Are there still enough plants caused by the recent wyld-storm flowering to claim some places that are usually not wood enough (possibly reinforcing them and preventing them from withering up)? Or do those plants not count since they're very temporary?
[Exalted] The Dragon's Spite
- Thread starter EarthScorpion
- Start date
- Mature Fantasy
- Location
- Spain
[X] Weeping Branches Technique - Channelling her essence into her garb and hair, they moves around Rena like a living thing. Deadly blows that think they found her will often turn out to merely have hit a flowing sleeve or passed harmlessly through her hair. Loose flowing garments and the use of implements such as ribbons or fans will accentuate this effect. Even if not dressed suitably, when she calls on her anima it serves to protect her.
People wanted to build up defenses, let's take the one actual defensive charm
The peacock charms are all good, so honestly i don't care much but
[X] Hidden Talons Methodology - Rena has an incredible talent for making use of improvised weapons without any of the drawbacks from their nature. A chopstick is a dagger; a scarf is a garotte; a playing card is a thrown knife. This can only be used for weapons within the theme of Peacock Style.
I like this one just a tiny bit more
People wanted to build up defenses, let's take the one actual defensive charm
The peacock charms are all good, so honestly i don't care much but
[X] Hidden Talons Methodology - Rena has an incredible talent for making use of improvised weapons without any of the drawbacks from their nature. A chopstick is a dagger; a scarf is a garotte; a playing card is a thrown knife. This can only be used for weapons within the theme of Peacock Style.
I like this one just a tiny bit more
[X] Weeping Branches Technique - Channelling her essence into her garb and hair, they moves around Rena like a living thing. Deadly blows that think they found her will often turn out to merely have hit a flowing sleeve or passed harmlessly through her hair. Loose flowing garments and the use of implements such as ribbons or fans will accentuate this effect. Even if not dressed suitably, when she calls on her anima it serves to protect her.
[X] Hidden Talons Methodology - Rena has an incredible talent for making use of improvised weapons without any of the drawbacks from their nature. A chopstick is a dagger; a scarf is a garotte; a playing card is a thrown knife. This can only be used for weapons within the theme of Peacock Style.
[X] Hidden Talons Methodology - Rena has an incredible talent for making use of improvised weapons without any of the drawbacks from their nature. A chopstick is a dagger; a scarf is a garotte; a playing card is a thrown knife. This can only be used for weapons within the theme of Peacock Style.
- Location
- Vermont
[X] Garden Meditation Reflection - By meditating or otherwise relaxing within a place aligned with the element of Wood, she and the location harmonise. Rena swiftly regains stamina and her healing rate increases. Meanwhile, the garden grows and strengthens its aspect, becoming healthier and fortifying itself against its environment. This can over time rid the area of outside influences, such as demonic taint or the touch of the underworld.
[X] Polychromatic Eyes Practice - When performing this technique, iridescent blue-green images trail behind her limbs and flicker around her and her projectiles. They only sometimes follow her actual motion. Those without keen senses will struggle to track her movements, making it harder to tell feints from real blows or where she's aiming.
[X] Polychromatic Eyes Practice - When performing this technique, iridescent blue-green images trail behind her limbs and flicker around her and her projectiles. They only sometimes follow her actual motion. Those without keen senses will struggle to track her movements, making it harder to tell feints from real blows or where she's aiming.
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Amused Bystander
Herald of 'She who Umu's' Be Brave!
- Location
- Philippines
[X] Weeping Branches Technique - Channelling her essence into her garb and hair, they moves around Rena like a living thing. Deadly blows that think they found her will often turn out to merely have hit a flowing sleeve or passed harmlessly through her hair. Loose flowing garments and the use of implements such as ribbons or fans will accentuate this effect. Even if not dressed suitably, when she calls on her anima it serves to protect her.
[X] Hidden Talons Methodology - Rena has an incredible talent for making use of improvised weapons without any of the drawbacks from their nature. A chopstick is a dagger; a scarf is a garotte; a playing card is a thrown knife. This can only be used for weapons within the theme of Peacock Style.
[X] Hidden Talons Methodology - Rena has an incredible talent for making use of improvised weapons without any of the drawbacks from their nature. A chopstick is a dagger; a scarf is a garotte; a playing card is a thrown knife. This can only be used for weapons within the theme of Peacock Style.
boo600
Ego sum egredietur tempestas.
- Location
- Texas
- Pronouns
- He/Him/Hungry
Bleh. I was supposed to type peacock. Peacock! The one we noted as being rusty, the difference between votes.
Sorry for the... mix-up. Eugh. I really do regret that. I feel... dirty.
I swear, I'm going to be fired any day now. I'm going to go take a nap, since I'm clearly behind on sleep.
But first!
In the Age of Sorrows, DBs are, if connected to their dynasties, fully kitted out. Besides teamwork (a DB specialty, where solars just work well, and do so together) and higher essence, it's part of what keeps them relevant when the Jade Prison is broken. They get a lot of artifact dots.
I know Rena isn't connected, but again, this is about standards. She's getting connected, and this is what DBs do. It may not be best for Rena to do, but it does mean that "gets injured by a mortal, without artifacts, when the mortal is stronger/faster" is not a statement of truly extreme deficiency. Mortals get in hits sometimes. What matters is that they still go squish.
Oh, and before my nap: On to the moves!
This is defensive, and what the plan is focused on. Since it uses hair, it would have worked in the last fight. Plus, anima helps. A solid 8/10 for aligning with the plan.
Useful debuff, of the story-kind, and not normally of the "my enemies did this" kind... but in a place of nature super-soldiers... It's a good advantage, and helps offensively/defensively, but against a single foe. 8/10- wait, exhales a cloud of allergenic pollen in the face? Seriously? It's an attack, like blowing smoke in their face! Ugh.
Which means living somewhere other than a hotel. Can't cultivate a garden to grant favors with if we don't own the land.
Rena has raised Peacock Style to Disciple, and reacquired her first Charm for it:
Yay? 6/10, but...
Machine gun throw! Funsies!
Wait. Rena doesn't have that many blades, and her funds are limited. Even combined with Hidden Talons Methodology...
Blur effect! Ahahaha! And it's 'free'! (No physical materials, just motes) And a debuff to all attackers, period!
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- Location
- PA
[X] Garden Meditation Reflection - By meditating or otherwise relaxing within a place aligned with the element of Wood, she and the location harmonise. Rena swiftly regains stamina and her healing rate increases. Meanwhile, the garden grows and strengthens its aspect, becoming healthier and fortifying itself against its environment. This can over time rid the area of outside influences, such as demonic taint or the touch of the underworld.
Nice little scheme to cover for our Fae Prince! And more importantly...It's a place of value, of resource if leveraged correctly, and I'm pretty sure Rena can indeed leverage it, into more wealth, and perhaps into favors that can double as power in it's own right. And if the Kinzara seek to partake of more then just the fruits...Perhaps we can find some of the Jansi interested in the idea of making the fat-bellies actually WORK for their next meal?
[X] Polychromatic Eyes Practice - When performing this technique, iridescent blue-green images trail behind her limbs and flicker around her and her projectiles. They only sometimes follow her actual motion. Those without keen senses will struggle to track her movements, making it harder to tell feints from real blows or where she's aiming.
Playing with Reality was fun for Rena before she heard the call of the Wyld.
Nice little scheme to cover for our Fae Prince! And more importantly...It's a place of value, of resource if leveraged correctly, and I'm pretty sure Rena can indeed leverage it, into more wealth, and perhaps into favors that can double as power in it's own right. And if the Kinzara seek to partake of more then just the fruits...Perhaps we can find some of the Jansi interested in the idea of making the fat-bellies actually WORK for their next meal?
[X] Polychromatic Eyes Practice - When performing this technique, iridescent blue-green images trail behind her limbs and flicker around her and her projectiles. They only sometimes follow her actual motion. Those without keen senses will struggle to track her movements, making it harder to tell feints from real blows or where she's aiming.
Playing with Reality was fun for Rena before she heard the call of the Wyld.
Vocalist
Verdant Maiden in Violet
- Location
- By a Cedar Tree
[X] Weeping Branches Technique - Channelling her essence into her garb and hair, they moves around Rena like a living thing. Deadly blows that think they found her will often turn out to merely have hit a flowing sleeve or passed harmlessly through her hair. Loose flowing garments and the use of implements such as ribbons or fans will accentuate this effect. Even if not dressed suitably, when she calls on her anima it serves to protect her.
The garden meditation charm is tempting, but I don't think it would be too useful right now. Its purpose is to build up planty sanctuaries; we are currently a) in a desert and b) without a home base. Maybe later. While the hay fever one...I'll be honest, making opponents sneeze themselves to defeat is just too silly for me.
[X] Hidden Talons Methodology - Rena has an incredible talent for making use of improvised weapons without any of the drawbacks from their nature. A chopstick is a dagger; a scarf is a garotte; a playing card is a thrown knife. This can only be used for weapons within the theme of Peacock Style.
Oh no I am just a helpless maiden I have no way of defending myself from - SURPRISE! Stabbed with a fork!
The garden meditation charm is tempting, but I don't think it would be too useful right now. Its purpose is to build up planty sanctuaries; we are currently a) in a desert and b) without a home base. Maybe later. While the hay fever one...I'll be honest, making opponents sneeze themselves to defeat is just too silly for me.
[X] Hidden Talons Methodology - Rena has an incredible talent for making use of improvised weapons without any of the drawbacks from their nature. A chopstick is a dagger; a scarf is a garotte; a playing card is a thrown knife. This can only be used for weapons within the theme of Peacock Style.
Oh no I am just a helpless maiden I have no way of defending myself from - SURPRISE! Stabbed with a fork!
[X] Garden Meditation Reflection - By meditating or otherwise relaxing within a place aligned with the element of Wood, she and the location harmonise. Rena swiftly regains stamina and her healing rate increases. Meanwhile, the garden grows and strengthens its aspect, becoming healthier and fortifying itself against its environment. This can over time rid the area of outside influences, such as demonic taint or the touch of the underworld.
[X] Polychromatic Eyes Practice - When performing this technique, iridescent blue-green images trail behind her limbs and flicker around her and her projectiles. They only sometimes follow her actual motion. Those without keen senses will struggle to track her movements, making it harder to tell feints from real blows or where she's aiming.
Now would be a good time to know Garden Meditation, since the storm had just passed and theres SOME greenery everywhere, so if we start meditating at one of those places we have our pokemon center(and fuck cranny).
[X] Polychromatic Eyes Practice - When performing this technique, iridescent blue-green images trail behind her limbs and flicker around her and her projectiles. They only sometimes follow her actual motion. Those without keen senses will struggle to track her movements, making it harder to tell feints from real blows or where she's aiming.
Now would be a good time to know Garden Meditation, since the storm had just passed and theres SOME greenery everywhere, so if we start meditating at one of those places we have our pokemon center(and fuck cranny).
[X] Weeping Branches Technique - Channelling her essence into her garb and hair, they moves around Rena like a living thing. Deadly blows that think they found her will often turn out to merely have hit a flowing sleeve or passed harmlessly through her hair. Loose flowing garments and the use of implements such as ribbons or fans will accentuate this effect. Even if not dressed suitably, when she calls on her anima it serves to protect her.
[X] Hidden Talons Methodology - Rena has an incredible talent for making use of improvised weapons without any of the drawbacks from their nature. A chopstick is a dagger; a scarf is a garotte; a playing card is a thrown knife. This can only be used for weapons within the theme of Peacock Style.
[X] Hidden Talons Methodology - Rena has an incredible talent for making use of improvised weapons without any of the drawbacks from their nature. A chopstick is a dagger; a scarf is a garotte; a playing card is a thrown knife. This can only be used for weapons within the theme of Peacock Style.
- Pronouns
- They/Them
[x] Weeping Branches Technique - Channelling her essence into her garb and hair, they moves around Rena like a living thing. Deadly blows that think they found her will often turn out to merely have hit a flowing sleeve or passed harmlessly through her hair. Loose flowing garments and the use of implements such as ribbons or fans will accentuate this effect. Even if not dressed suitably, when she calls on her anima it serves to protect her.
[x] Polychromatic Eyes Practice - When performing this technique, iridescent blue-green images trail behind her limbs and flicker around her and her projectiles. They only sometimes follow her actual motion. Those without keen senses will struggle to track her movements, making it harder to tell feints from real blows or where she's aiming.
Can't touch this (without permission) double-combo!
[x] Polychromatic Eyes Practice - When performing this technique, iridescent blue-green images trail behind her limbs and flicker around her and her projectiles. They only sometimes follow her actual motion. Those without keen senses will struggle to track her movements, making it harder to tell feints from real blows or where she's aiming.
Can't touch this (without permission) double-combo!
A reminder; charms purchases are rare, and often you lose access at the next rank up if your personal theme has been changed by your previous purchase. Any logic along the lines of "we can just buy X Charm later" is flawed. This isn't canon Exalted; you can't just "buy a charm later". Each charm is a manifestation of your development of the Style. And there's a finite number of ranks, and higher up the ranks, the XP costs increase precipitously.
Your choices matter and you can't just rely on "getting to buy it later".
Likewise, Charms are not the be-all and end-all in the system used here. They're more like a speciality on top of the core Style. So just by increasing Graceful Willow Style, Rena has gotten better at avoiding damage and escaping grabs and so on. So the idea that she "has" to get Weeping Branches Technique to be better at defence isn't true. It will enhance her defence, yes, but she has improved that just by raising the skill.
Weeping Branches Technique is something to pick if you want to improve her capacity to evade damage on top of that, particularly if she's dressed in loose flowing things. But Flower Season Sickness is a debuff that's particularly useful against a single target that's better than it if it lands. And Garden Meditation Reflection isn't playing the same game as the other two and comes with its own benefits.
Also, just to clarify, no - Polychromatic Eyes Practice is not a significant/notable dodge enhancer. It's offensively focussed. Trying to stack it with Weeping Branches Technique to become very difficult to hit won't work, because that's not what it does. It's more about making it harder to tell when you're feinting and where your thrown knives are going, like it says.
Its purpose is the self-care; the rest and healing. The plant growth is a secondary thing on top of that. Magical healing is rare, without a character who's either specced in either medical styles or sheer toughness. Having seen how it got in Number None, trust me; there's going to be nothing like NN's High Speed Regeneration here for Rena, who doesn't have those "doctor-y" or "tough" picks.
And I'm not sure why pepper spray thinly dressed as magic is so silly.
Yes. They're still plants, even if they're tainted - the plant thing might be a minor bonus, but in somewhere like Cahzor, it matters more because it allows you to strengthen those brief flourishings. It's the desert biome - brief plant growth when there's rain, which in Cahzor is often heavily associated with wyldstorms.
Your choices matter and you can't just rely on "getting to buy it later".
Likewise, Charms are not the be-all and end-all in the system used here. They're more like a speciality on top of the core Style. So just by increasing Graceful Willow Style, Rena has gotten better at avoiding damage and escaping grabs and so on. So the idea that she "has" to get Weeping Branches Technique to be better at defence isn't true. It will enhance her defence, yes, but she has improved that just by raising the skill.
Weeping Branches Technique is something to pick if you want to improve her capacity to evade damage on top of that, particularly if she's dressed in loose flowing things. But Flower Season Sickness is a debuff that's particularly useful against a single target that's better than it if it lands. And Garden Meditation Reflection isn't playing the same game as the other two and comes with its own benefits.
Also, just to clarify, no - Polychromatic Eyes Practice is not a significant/notable dodge enhancer. It's offensively focussed. Trying to stack it with Weeping Branches Technique to become very difficult to hit won't work, because that's not what it does. It's more about making it harder to tell when you're feinting and where your thrown knives are going, like it says.
Its purpose is the self-care; the rest and healing. The plant growth is a secondary thing on top of that. Magical healing is rare, without a character who's either specced in either medical styles or sheer toughness. Having seen how it got in Number None, trust me; there's going to be nothing like NN's High Speed Regeneration here for Rena, who doesn't have those "doctor-y" or "tough" picks.
And I'm not sure why pepper spray thinly dressed as magic is so silly.
Yes. They're still plants, even if they're tainted - the plant thing might be a minor bonus, but in somewhere like Cahzor, it matters more because it allows you to strengthen those brief flourishings. It's the desert biome - brief plant growth when there's rain, which in Cahzor is often heavily associated with wyldstorms.
[X] Garden Meditation Reflection - By meditating or otherwise relaxing within a place aligned with the element of Wood, she and the location harmonise. Rena swiftly regains stamina and her healing rate increases. Meanwhile, the garden grows and strengthens its aspect, becoming healthier and fortifying itself against its environment. This can over time rid the area of outside influences, such as demonic taint or the touch of the underworld.
Unsure on the other vote so far, but definitely want this one.
Unsure on the other vote so far, but definitely want this one.
ThatGazzer
Minds Eye Bind
- Location
- PNW
- Pronouns
- They/Them
[X] Garden Meditation Reflection - By meditating or otherwise relaxing within a place aligned with the element of Wood, she and the location harmonise. Rena swiftly regains stamina and her healing rate increases. Meanwhile, the garden grows and strengthens its aspect, becoming healthier and fortifying itself against its environment. This can over time rid the area of outside influences, such as demonic taint or the touch of the underworld.
[X] Polychromatic Eyes Practice - When performing this technique, iridescent blue-green images trail behind her limbs and flicker around her and her projectiles. They only sometimes follow her actual motion. Those without keen senses will struggle to track her movements, making it harder to tell feints from real blows or where she's aiming.
[X] Polychromatic Eyes Practice - When performing this technique, iridescent blue-green images trail behind her limbs and flicker around her and her projectiles. They only sometimes follow her actual motion. Those without keen senses will struggle to track her movements, making it harder to tell feints from real blows or where she's aiming.
Hmm, when Viper hit Disciple there was a choice between a combat/fear path and a utility/digestion path after the first charm choice focused on venom and pain. That may have been the source of thinking that charms could be taken later is not chosen now, because the charm choices for Disciple were the charms not chosen at Initiate.
Graceful Willow is focused on physical fitness, avoiding hits, and non-direct fighting techniques. I think Weeping Branch Technique is the 'avoiding hits' tree and may lead to more combat utility. Garden Meditation Reflection is the 'physical fitness' tree and may lead to Rena staying healthy with more out-of-combat recovery techniques. Flower Season Sickness is the 'non-direct fighting techniques' tree, and may lead to more plant-based debuffs.
Of the three, I prefer Weeping Branch Technique because it plays well with Viper and Peacock and because Rena likely has an increased aversion to being hit after that woman hit her with that pressure point technique. However, I'll be perfectly happy if Garden Meditation Reflection wins.
Peacock is focused on being tricking the eye with hands that seem empty of weapons, throwing fans of knives, and distraction/misdirection. Hidden Talon Methodology is the 'empty hand' tree because it makes it easier to have weapons on hand and may lead to more concealed weapon fun. Hundred Feather Stance is the 'fans of knives' tree and may lead to more fast attack fun. Polychromatic Eyes Practice is the 'distraction' tree, and may lead to more elaborate types of distraction.
Of the three, the distraction tree seems like the most fun and plays well with Viper, so I'm happy with my choice.
Graceful Willow is focused on physical fitness, avoiding hits, and non-direct fighting techniques. I think Weeping Branch Technique is the 'avoiding hits' tree and may lead to more combat utility. Garden Meditation Reflection is the 'physical fitness' tree and may lead to Rena staying healthy with more out-of-combat recovery techniques. Flower Season Sickness is the 'non-direct fighting techniques' tree, and may lead to more plant-based debuffs.
Of the three, I prefer Weeping Branch Technique because it plays well with Viper and Peacock and because Rena likely has an increased aversion to being hit after that woman hit her with that pressure point technique. However, I'll be perfectly happy if Garden Meditation Reflection wins.
Peacock is focused on being tricking the eye with hands that seem empty of weapons, throwing fans of knives, and distraction/misdirection. Hidden Talon Methodology is the 'empty hand' tree because it makes it easier to have weapons on hand and may lead to more concealed weapon fun. Hundred Feather Stance is the 'fans of knives' tree and may lead to more fast attack fun. Polychromatic Eyes Practice is the 'distraction' tree, and may lead to more elaborate types of distraction.
Of the three, the distraction tree seems like the most fun and plays well with Viper, so I'm happy with my choice.
[X] Garden Meditation Reflection - By meditating or otherwise relaxing within a place aligned with the element of Wood, she and the location harmonise. Rena swiftly regains stamina and her healing rate increases. Meanwhile, the garden grows and strengthens its aspect, becoming healthier and fortifying itself against its environment. This can over time rid the area of outside influences, such as demonic taint or the touch of the underworld.
- Pronouns
- They/Them
[X] Garden Meditation Reflection - By meditating or otherwise relaxing within a place aligned with the element of Wood, she and the location harmonise. Rena swiftly regains stamina and her healing rate increases. Meanwhile, the garden grows and strengthens its aspect, becoming healthier and fortifying itself against its environment. This can over time rid the area of outside influences, such as demonic taint or the touch of the underworld.
[X] Polychromatic Eyes Practice - When performing this technique, iridescent blue-green images trail behind her limbs and flicker around her and her projectiles. They only sometimes follow her actual motion. Those without keen senses will struggle to track her movements, making it harder to tell feints from real blows or where she's aiming.
[X] Polychromatic Eyes Practice - When performing this technique, iridescent blue-green images trail behind her limbs and flicker around her and her projectiles. They only sometimes follow her actual motion. Those without keen senses will struggle to track her movements, making it harder to tell feints from real blows or where she's aiming.
boo600
Ego sum egredietur tempestas.
- Location
- Texas
- Pronouns
- He/Him/Hungry
[X] Garden Meditation Reflection - By meditating or otherwise relaxing within a place aligned with the element of Wood, she and the location harmonise. Rena swiftly regains stamina and her healing rate increases. Meanwhile, the garden grows and strengthens its aspect, becoming healthier and fortifying itself against its environment. This can over time rid the area of outside influences, such as demonic taint or the touch of the underworld.
[X] Polychromatic Eyes Practice - When performing this technique, iridescent blue-green images trail behind her limbs and flicker around her and her projectiles. They only sometimes follow her actual motion. Those without keen senses will struggle to track her movements, making it harder to tell feints from real blows or where she's aiming.
Switching to the Veekie vote. I really, really want the healing; I was just worried that it wouldn't work (too situational) since we have no sanctum. As mentioned, however, at present we have the gift of the change-rain, the power of chaos. Might as well take advantage of the guaranteed short-term investment.
And polychromatic eyes, even if there's no defense, still works on everyone watching (where will she fire next), still has no "ammo" limit, and is just too damn awesome to let it pass us by.
[X] Polychromatic Eyes Practice - When performing this technique, iridescent blue-green images trail behind her limbs and flicker around her and her projectiles. They only sometimes follow her actual motion. Those without keen senses will struggle to track her movements, making it harder to tell feints from real blows or where she's aiming.
Switching to the Veekie vote. I really, really want the healing; I was just worried that it wouldn't work (too situational) since we have no sanctum. As mentioned, however, at present we have the gift of the change-rain, the power of chaos. Might as well take advantage of the guaranteed short-term investment.
And polychromatic eyes, even if there's no defense, still works on everyone watching (where will she fire next), still has no "ammo" limit, and is just too damn awesome to let it pass us by.
- Location
- Canada
[X] Garden Meditation Reflection - By meditating or otherwise relaxing within a place aligned with the element of Wood, she and the location harmonise. Rena swiftly regains stamina and her healing rate increases. Meanwhile, the garden grows and strengthens its aspect, becoming healthier and fortifying itself against its environment. This can over time rid the area of outside influences, such as demonic taint or the touch of the underworld.
[X] Hundred Feathers Stance - Rena's hands blur as she throws out a hail of blades and darts. Her speed is such that she can ready new weapons in nearly the blink of an eye. This murderous barrage is exceptionally hard to defend against, particularly if the opponent lacks a shield. This stance is physically exhausting, and is limited by ammunition.
[X] Hundred Feathers Stance - Rena's hands blur as she throws out a hail of blades and darts. Her speed is such that she can ready new weapons in nearly the blink of an eye. This murderous barrage is exceptionally hard to defend against, particularly if the opponent lacks a shield. This stance is physically exhausting, and is limited by ammunition.
Vocalist
Verdant Maiden in Violet
- Location
- By a Cedar Tree
After considering the advice from the QM, I think I'll stick with my current choices. If Garden Meditation is about healing and recovery, Weeping Branches is about not getting hit in the first place. And I still think it synergizes really well with the Hidden Talons Methodology.
[X] Garden Meditation Reflection - By meditating or otherwise relaxing within a place aligned with the element of Wood, she and the location harmonise. Rena swiftly regains stamina and her healing rate increases. Meanwhile, the garden grows and strengthens its aspect, becoming healthier and fortifying itself against its environment. This can over time rid the area of outside influences, such as demonic taint or the touch of the underworld.
[X] Polychromatic Eyes Practice - When performing this technique, iridescent blue-green images trail behind her limbs and flicker around her and her projectiles. They only sometimes follow her actual motion. Those without keen senses will struggle to track her movements, making it harder to tell feints from real blows or where she's aiming.
[X] Polychromatic Eyes Practice - When performing this technique, iridescent blue-green images trail behind her limbs and flicker around her and her projectiles. They only sometimes follow her actual motion. Those without keen senses will struggle to track her movements, making it harder to tell feints from real blows or where she's aiming.
Okay, with that, I'm closing the vote.
Rena has re-acquired Polychromatic Eyes Practice and Garden Meditation Reflection. And don't worry, I haven't forgotten about the spell. It will be offered this update. Which I am starting work on now.
Rena has re-acquired Polychromatic Eyes Practice and Garden Meditation Reflection. And don't worry, I haven't forgotten about the spell. It will be offered this update. Which I am starting work on now.
Arc 3: XXXII. The City’s Corpse
XXXII. The City's Corpse
You remember very few things when you wake, and that's for the best. You lived through those experiences already; you don't need to see them in your dreams. But ah, it's other senses that cling to you.
The cold. The thick, clammy mud that soaked through your layers. The ache of your muscles; the hot warmth of the blood in your hair from the shallow cut to your scalp. And the coppery smell everywhere.
The way your eyes burned from tears.
You don't cry out. You don't.
Kicking, thrashing, you fight to free yourself from your sheets and groan. Your room is dimly lit, with just a hint of pinkish light creeping in past the curtains and the blue gauze veiling your bed. The black-and-white tiles of the ceiling meet your bleary eyes.
Some utter bastard has had a party in your throat without inviting you. That's your first thought when you wake to the sound of temple bells, which make their way even through the walls and crystal-glass windows of the Cerulean Lotus. It's been about a week since you got back from the Kinzira estate, and you thought you'd been living more cleanly. And cheaply. Money might be starting to press on your mind as a worry. Just a bit.
Last night's memories remind you of what happened. Okay. Maybe it was past-you that had the party, but she's a selfish bitch who drank too much. The taste in the back of your throat and the pounding just behind your eyeballs is reminding you of that.
You are alone in your bed, and you can't remember why. Your nightmares usually leave you alone when you have someone warm to snuggle up to. Maybe that's why you sought companionship in a bottle instead. You remember your two boys bickering over something unimportant. You don't remember what exactly, but… bleargh.
Perhaps in your nostalgia for those times when you had plenty of handsome young men to wait on you hand and foot, you may have somewhat brushed over how prone to drama men can be. And of course, your princes thrive off drama. It's their meat and bread.
But, seriously, you cannot deal with it sometimes.
Swinging your legs out of bed, you gracefully lurch to the window and yank the curtains open wide. The sudden rush of blood to your head from rising too quickly leaves the world spinning, so you lean against the glass. It's cool against your brow and forearms, thankfully, but it'll be heating up soon enough. Just before dawn is often the coolest time in Cahzor.
The great ruin lies down below. In the pink pre-dawn light, the domes and spires of the temples that are probably making all that racket catch your eyes. For once, there is greenery. Long-dormant seeds sprout from the broken stones of the dusty roads and the accumulated dirt on rooftops. There is water in the river, though it does not make its way all the way down its old bank before the thirsty ink drinks it up. A few days ago, you saw a waterfall from one of the faceless mile-high statues that loom over the valley. It was almost like it was weeping.
It is not just the plants which are experiencing a brief flourishing, you think with a wry smile. Cahzor itself has come to life in the aftermath of the change rain. You have seen more sandship sails down in the ruin as hunters and desperate men try to harvest the bounty of chaos. Water prices are cheaper up here, and the souks of the city are selling strange mutated creatures and plants.
The souks…
Yes. That's right. There's no way you're getting back to sleep. You don't want to get back to sleep. Not if it means more nightmares. So you might as well start the day early. You can nap during the hottest hours of the day, perhaps after a romp with one of the boys if they feel like kissing and making up. That sounds like a sound plan.
You idly rub your thumb against the raw patches of skin on your hands and fingertips. Maybe there might be some aloe leaves in the souks, too. Or at least some oil infused with such leaves. That would be good for skin rubbed red by your personal training with Blue. Your darling has been such a use for helping you get back into shape. Maybe you should get him something nice.
Stepping away from the window, you begin the bleary hunt for your dressing-gown. You feel cold and clammy; you probably reek of fear-sweat from the damnable nightmares. There's no way you're going out like this. So what you will do is get your maid, whose name you might even remember one of these days, and head down to the bathhouse. You want to get as much done before the day heats up.
Listen to the sound of the wind cresting over the rim of the dam and blowing through the narrow buildings. Such a melancholy sound, no? It is almost musical. It sounds like those wailing pipes from those towns up near the top of the Fire Mountains.
But you left those behind a month and more ago. No, now you are in Cahzor-upon-Dam – or Zorpondam, as you have started to call it, just like the locals do – and it is unmistakable. You couldn't believe that you are anywhere else. It's the smell of the wretched Little Nam, you see. It's quite unforgettable, though you wish you could. You might have gotten slightly inured to it, but then again that might have just been the rainfall diluting down that foetid cesspool.
Even if it wasn't for that awful, nose-ruining scent, you'd still know where you are. There are many souks in Zorpondam, but you have little interest in the little ones on rooftops that only sell the strange, squirming crustaceans from the Little Nam, coarse flour, or ration-measures of water. No, what you are more interested in is the markets that might accumulate things from the city below.
That is why you have come to the creaking edifice of the Tahrib, which sits in an ancient arcade which grows out from the side of the dam like a cyst. Its roof is canvas and sheets of plundered metal, its walls shake when the wind howls, and cables as thick as your waist anchor it to man-sized pitons sunk into the stone. It is not, technically, part of the city on the dam, because it does not sit on it. It is a tributary, ruled over by its own petty warlord. His men and women stand around, each one wearing a crimson turban wrapped around their helmets and a brass ring in their noses. You've already seen them viciously beat a suspected thief - and threaten to toss her over the edge.
But no one could control this souk. There are many people in here, locals and travellers alike, and the raised voices of the vendors with the bright head scarves and lurid market paintings overload the ear and the eye alike. Each seller seeks to drown out the others - or perhaps it's in their interest that no one can hear themselves think. Blue smoke swirls in the air from the market vendors and their hash and tobacco. Polished mirrors diffuse light around the spaces inside, cutting god-like rays through the haze. At least it is cooler here than it should be with all these bodies around. Clunking mechanisms take the strength of the wind that blows over the edge of the dam, and turn great fans that look like they were once the propellers of Shogunate ships.
It is Jupiterday today, and that means that the Tahrib has the paper-merchants and the books-sellers here. If anyone asks why you are here, it is simply you need some finer writing-paper - and you certainly do! You have letters to exchange with some of the people you met at the Kinzira party. But that is not the whole truth.
Anyone who knew you - and no one in this city does, apart from Sei - would know you like books. You like them a lot. And Zia had mentioned at the party that the Tahrib often had books for sale, found in the city below. But when you had been planning this day's excursion, you hadn't fully appreciated that just because the book-sellers were here it didn't mean that everyone else left. Instead, it feels like everyone else has just crammed in tighter.
And so you wander through this trove of scrap and plunder and waste, taken from the remains of Cahzor. There, a merchant sells cutlery and plates, the ancient metal polished to shine until you could use it as a mirror. There, someone is doing just as the Chiaroscuroans do and is selling weapons made from shards of the crystal-glass from the towers that gleam down in the heat haze. Over there, a seller of cloth and garments plundered from long-forgotten wardrobes; there, a showman who boasts about the wyldfruits he's selling, "Freshly plucked after the change rain, oh yes!", and their many marvelous medicinal properties.
A puff of flame draws many eyes, not least because it is tinged green. It casts long wavering shadows through the smoke, and for a moment strange creatures seem to dance on the walls.
"Come one, come all, and see the mighty demonic curiosities of Wazir the Wise!" calls out the man at the front of the store; his hair elegantly swept back, his goatee neatly trimmed, his fingers bedecked with rings. Prize among them is something that is either a sizable emerald or a good fake. "Power beyond question, wonders beyond understanding, and all for the right price."
He gestures to the strangely shaped brass statue before him, and another jet of greenish flame erupts from its mouth.
"Ladies and gentlemen, for just a small payment one can initiate into the masteries! Books! Books! Books of hidden secrets, for the learned!"
You laugh. Oh, you're no demonologist, but you have known those who were - and alchemists too. And as a result, you can say for a fact that that puff of green flame was copper-green, not the strange fire of Hell that casts no shadows.
This showman is a con-artist, nothing more; a man with a knowledge of a little alchemy and just enough knowledge of Hell to fake the green flame. Still, he has the con-artist's patter down. You linger by his stall, for the amusement if nothing else.
"You, beautiful lady," he calls out, with a florid flick of his long sleeves. You're wearing a thin veil like many of the locals, but there's no way you can pass as one of them to someone who pays attention. "Come to seek power from my trinkets and magical accoutrements? Safeguard your fortune, hide your valuables, perhaps even acquire a potent familiar spirit?"
"What would you recommend?" you ask him, smiling. You want to see how he works.
His eyes greedily look you up and down. With a flick of his hand, he has a hardwood box sitting in his palm. It would be more convincing as magic if he wasn't wearing such long sleeves. "Come closer," he says. You play along, as he pops open the catch and reveals… a dried frog. "This here is the demonic spawn of one of the demons known as the amfelisiae," he says furtively. "You look like the kind of powerful lady who has enemies. Yes? Something a good luck charm such as this would fend away."
"A what?" you ask, draping yourself in an ingenue air. Yes. As you thought. He knows just enough for the patter.
"These demons have the appearance of frogs," he says. "And this is an infant one. See how it has six legs?" It does, but in your professional expertise as a wyldworker that frog has been exposed to chaos and twisted. "It is because it is the child of a demon. Something like this would be a powerful protective thing, emplaced above your heart or hidden under your bed."
"Maybe later," you say, shaking your head. Powerful women look for protection, so that's what he recommends you? You're almost disappointed. You had hoped he'd at least try to lure you with a forged book of demonology or perhaps a statue of a demon. It might have been an amusing trinket, or something which could have been planted in the hands of a rival. A dried frog is just… boring.
Still, he isn't just relying on the interested travellers. You keep an eye on him, and more than a few Cahzori stop at his stall. None of them seem to take anything from him, but you see the handing-over of what you suspect is a promissory note.
Shaking your head at the foolishness of the locals, you resume your exploration of the souk. There are things to be found here you can make use of. For example, a roll of pink chiffon salvaged from a sand-choked warehouse nearly gets you to buy it, but the cost is just too much for you to consider it worth it.
Loud-mouthed High Realm manages to catch your attention through the clamour and you tense up. Cold fear churns in your gut. No, they can't be here for you. It's probably just traders. Just two tall traders, a man whose hair is coal black and speckled with embers, and a woman whose skin is porcelain-smooth and whose hair is marble-white. Well dressed. She has a two-handed axe with a black jadesteel blade on her back; he carries a sheathed sword on his hip. You don't need to see his fire lilies and her sprouting grain to see that they're dragon-children too.
Fuck. Dynasts. And they're coming your way.
"Oh look!" the man booms and your heart skips a beat. "Look at these weavings! They're so quaint."
"And overpriced. Look at this trash. You'd think these dust-mouthed peasants would think to cut their prices so we'd actually buy something. Maybe they're just waiting to go home to their stinking huts down by that disgusting lake. They probably relieve themselves in there, you know."
"Listen, Rani, you can't just say that in public, even if it's right."
"Why? These savages can't understand us."
A gemstone seller serves as a cover, and his rows of agates and moonstones look tolerable, polished to a shine by the pair of grubby children who squat in front of his stall. You square your back, preventing passers-by from getting a look at your face.
"Are these from the city?" you ask, trying to mimic the local accent as best you can. They're right behind you. Right behind you. Need to stay calm.
"No," he says, the look in his eyes telling you that you might not be succeeding. "They're bought from traders from Gem. Best quality, I tell you."
"Well, I suppose I can take a look."
After some bartering, you take a trio of moonstones off his hands for a fair price. Notably fairer for you than perhaps for him, but his first offer was really insultingly high. If he hadn't had such a presumption to ask that much of you on the assumption that you were an easy mark, you wouldn't have had to put actual effort into kicking his feet out from under him.
If there are two dynasts here - well, it would certainly benefit you to make yourself scarce from the city. You were planning that anyway, but this is definitely putting more pressure on you. Hopefully they're just travelling along the trade routes and will be gone after a day or two of rest.
Dragons, please let them not be here for you.
At least they're loud-mouthed and making no effort at all to blend in. Even through the clamour, you can hear them as they amble down the packed aisles. Just to be sure, though, you head for the nearest stairs to get away from them. You can't look like you're rushing, so you make sure to browse the stalls.
And it's at one paper merchant that you find what you were looking for. Well, no. Not looking for. Hoping against hope that you would find something.
Because as you sort through the samples of paper on the stall, you recognise something. The symbols on one sheet are done in the notation of Queen Tszalir, called by some Zaleer or Siluru. The ancient witch-queen, who ruled before the dragon-children cast her and her kind down; a great and terrible sorceress whose wicked deeds were only matched by her brilliance. Many spirits still use her notation to describe works of magic, and so you were forced to learn it.
Maybe this is just some scam. Some trick where someone is copying mystical symbols onto ancient paper to get people to pay above the odds. You almost hope this is the case. It hurts to feel such desperate desire pulsing in your chest.
The young man behind the stall, one side of his face scarred by pox, missing both his front teeth catches your eyes. "Milady, how about you? Fine quality papers for your household! Ancient is always better! The ink'll wash off, no problem!
These fools! These fools! Oh, you can see how this… this wretched city does it. In the dry, the ancient paper will be well-preserved – and it's not like there's the plants or reeds growing in the area that would allow them to make their own paper. So they plunder the archives and libraries down in the city below, tear the leaves out of books or cut up scrolls, and erase the ink. Just to jot down their… their family accounts or write insipid letters or whatever idiots do with paper.
How much priceless knowledge has been destroyed?
Some of your towering rage must have shown on your face, because the young man flinches and swallows. "Not that I meant any offence," he begins.
"No, no. It's nothing. It's alright." You try to relax your jaw so you're not speaking through clenched teeth. "This does look like particularly fine paper. I haven't seen much like it in a while." You call your dragon-blood to the fore, breathing out the scent of pines and mountain flowers. He might not know what you are, but he will know he's your inferior. He will know to obey you. "I will take it all. Even if it isn't as fine as that, my servants will have a use for it."
His eyes light up. "Yes, milady! And…"
Interrupting him, you raise one finger. "But there is something else." You brush your fingertips over your eyelids.
"Yes?" he asks eagerly.
You mouth Sei's true name, and his face goes slack as his mind falls into your eyes. "You agreed to tell me where this paper came from. And you have sworn not to tell anyone about this." You smile sweetly. The light from your eyes plays over his features. "You can wake up now, darling."
Elation turns so swift to rage. You retreat back to your rooms with your purchase - and a hired porter or four to carry it - and scatter it across the floor of your bedroom. You get to work sorting through the papers, simply trying to isolate the book that the Tszaliran symbols come from.
Blue enters without asking, perhaps drawn by the fact you might have been exploring the limits of your vocabulary a teeny weeny bit as you sought to vocally express your dissatisfaction with the document-handling of the Cahzori.
"Who must I kill, fair lady?" he announces. The air shimmers around him, like stars seen through winter cloud.
"How did this moron even get hold of something worth this much? Couldn't this simpleton have recognised it as something beyond his tiny understanding?" you yell at him.
"Huh?"
"He's probably sold most of the pages already! All I have are these scraps! Fuck all paper sellers who tear pages out of books!"
"It shall be done, lady! This I vo-"
"No no no no," you manage to get out before this can go very, very wrong. "I'm furious, Blue, but don't vow to go kill anyone!" You thump the nearest pile of paper, scattering pages. "Argh!"
"Huh?"
"Blue, I love you, darling, but I just can't deal with you right now. Go be stupid and adorable elsewhere." You take a deep breath. "Just stop saying 'huh' and go find other ways to amuse yourself."
He sweeps in, resting a shiny black hand on your shoulder. "But lady, what if I want to make you happy?"
"Blue?"
"Mmm?" He gazes into your eyes soulfully. There is distinctly an air of smouldering going on, and a pout on his lips.
"You are standing on my papers." You jab a finger on him. "And I'm trying to sort them! Out!"
"But…"
"I mean it! Shoo!"
You don't feel much better having banished him, and not just because he knocked over one of your piles that now you need to sort all over again. There's a little voice in your head that considers whether maybe what you need is some attention from him, but you trample that voice down and kick it into the recesses of your mind. Blue can't think he's being rewarded for this. And this is power! Dregs of power, from the book of some long-lost sorcerer of Cahzor past, but you were never one of those elitist, 'properly-trained' snobs from the Heptagram. You taught yourself, and that meant that you had to learn to get power where you could find it.
Even from scraps like this. Like a feral dog, scavenging from the bins. Except even now you really are scavenging, not just drawing knowledge from sources that those bastards with a 'proper' education disdain.
Argh! You can't work like this! You need a proper workroom for your sorcery. Somewhere no one can enter without your permission, somewhere with a proper filing system and space to do things and… not trying to do things in the bedroom of a hotel room! And you need books and proper shrines and reference materials and everything you don't have.
"This old paper," you mutter to yourself. "So dusty."
You blot your eyes on your robe's sleeve, and get back to sorting through the leaves. And by the evening, when the day is starting to cool down, you know more about the desperately few pages of interest.
The individual who wrote them was a priest-lord, who channeled the power of the Cahzori gods and the minor spirits of the world. But they were much less foolish than their descendants. You might not know the name of this long-dead sorcerer, but their personality seeps out through their work. And this one is someone who was some kind of Immaculate, or at least some kind of post-Immaculate heresy. One whose worship was - as proper worship is - a social phenomenon, an offering to powerful beings to win their favour in the grand designs of Heaven.
One needs the authority of the gods to use their magic, but a dragon-child has many ways to get it.
There is one spell that's nearly intact in all these papers, and fragments of others. You can use this. Oh yes, certainly you can use this.
You leave a note for Amigere, and then head out to clear your thoughts.
Night has fallen by the time he finds you. You await him cross-legged in the greenhouses of the Blue Lotus, sat under the boughs of the fruit trees. A few of the lights of antiquity still work here, casting a dim light over the space. The air here is humid; overhead, you can see unripe mangoes. They grow them under glass not for heat, but because it allows them to stop the water escaping. Cracking open an eye, you watch him look nervously over the flowers that lean in towards you.
"Meira?" he calls out.
"Oh, there you are, darling!" you say, pretending to only just have noticed him. You pat the earth in front of you. "Come, sit with me."
"Why the note?"
A hissing overhead and a faint shower of mist marks what this greenhouse has for rain.
"I needed to meditate." Yes, and with your growing conditioning and increasing health, you have regained your connection to your wood-blood. Meditation here, in this place of your element, has strengthened you; rested you; healed your minor aches and pains. It's a little trick you learned as a young noblewoman, because a graceful willow shows not weariness nor pain - but your own decline and your injuries meant you could not use it when you most needed it.
"Oh." He brushes his hands along the trees, but wipes the moisture off before he sits in front of you. "Are you feeling better?"
You smile at him. "Somewhat. Now, you know we are looking to launch an expeditiation down into the valley?"
"Yes, but as I said, we have to wait until the chaos-taint burns off."
"Mmm." You look at him. "We need to move the timetable forwards. If nothing else, I want to see what it is like in person. We might need to launch a smaller expedition than planned, or else attach ourselves to one that's heading the right way, but I think we can't delay any longer."
"Why?"
Because there are Dynasts here, you don't say. "Financial concerns, darling," you say. "The longer we stay up here, the more it drains my money. Even if this place is paid up, it's going to likely take several attempts before we find something, so we need to get started soon. And something else. I may have a clue about something which may lead to profit. Tell me, the gods of Cahzor - do you know anything of them?"
"Not much. Why?" Amigere runs his fingers through the feathers on his head, grooming out the moisture. You could tell him it's all for nothing. You've been sitting here long enough that you are quite soaked - and your light shift is distinctly see-through. He hasn't noticed yet in the low light, but that's all right. You'll spring it on him if you need to persuade him.
"I found some papers in one of the souks which hint at something - but I need the favour of the gods for it. I was hoping you knew about their temples."
"Ah." As you knew was coming, the misters spray again. "Well, the greatest temples of Cahzor aren't here."
"They aren't?"
He shakes his head. "No. No space, for one. And remember; once this city was mighty. They built grand temples for their gods. The city died, but some of the priests still hold on to their former domains. The way I hear, there are temples the size of small towns down there that have become towns, ruled by the priest-lords. The ones that aren't abandoned, at least."
"Mmm." They could be useful. The jansi have their own circles of power, but so will the priests. Especially when they have this secular power. Some people might hold out hope that the priest-lords are more morally upstanding than the other aristocrats, but you're not a naive child so you won't. The jansi… there's a thought. Of course, if you wanted to perhaps make a deal with one of the families you met, they have gods too. Not the Kinzira, though. You didn't like the look of their gods.
And then there's the abandoned temples. Oh, there's potential there. A desperate god is one who won't have much choice. But will need more doing for them. There's something to be said for an ally who's strong enough that you won't have to do everything yourself.
But regardless of what you choose, it's a way to get out of Zorpondam. A way to make yourself scarce. And then - oh yes - power. The very thought makes you pleasantly warm inside.
"What did you find? Because you're thinking of something," says Amigere, rudely disturbing you from your thoughts.
"I am, darling. I am." You lean in, and kiss him on the beak so he doesn't ask any inconvenient questions. From the way his eyes widen, he didn't expect it. Neither did he realise how clinging your wet clothes are. "And that's why you're going to help me. Aren't you?"
"I thought you'd have your new lover."
You laugh at that. "Amigere, darling, my love. Blue is a moron. I wouldn't trust him with a sheet of paper. When I met him, it was a small mercy he wasn't bright enough to know I was tricking him. Oh, he's handsome - and you had fun with him too, didn't you?" His neck pinkens, and you smile.
"You knew?"
"Darling, of course I knew. You two made enough noise. But I'm not a jealous woman." Blue is a moron, but he's a very sexy moron. And for someone like Amigere… well, you wonder how many people turn him down just because he has a bird head. That's not something a prince of chaos would do. "Now, I just want you to be safe. He's very deadly, but he has barely more mental capacity than his horse."
"He has a horse?" He relaxes slightly.
"Sometimes." You kiss him again, rising to your knees. Overhead, the stars glitter and gleam in the cloudless night's sky. "He's useful, but you're more than that. I need you, darling. I love you."
"D-do you mean that?"
"Of course," you lie. "Now, help me out of my shift. I don't want it to get muddy."
You remember very few things when you wake, and that's for the best. You lived through those experiences already; you don't need to see them in your dreams. But ah, it's other senses that cling to you.
The cold. The thick, clammy mud that soaked through your layers. The ache of your muscles; the hot warmth of the blood in your hair from the shallow cut to your scalp. And the coppery smell everywhere.
The way your eyes burned from tears.
You don't cry out. You don't.
Kicking, thrashing, you fight to free yourself from your sheets and groan. Your room is dimly lit, with just a hint of pinkish light creeping in past the curtains and the blue gauze veiling your bed. The black-and-white tiles of the ceiling meet your bleary eyes.
Some utter bastard has had a party in your throat without inviting you. That's your first thought when you wake to the sound of temple bells, which make their way even through the walls and crystal-glass windows of the Cerulean Lotus. It's been about a week since you got back from the Kinzira estate, and you thought you'd been living more cleanly. And cheaply. Money might be starting to press on your mind as a worry. Just a bit.
Last night's memories remind you of what happened. Okay. Maybe it was past-you that had the party, but she's a selfish bitch who drank too much. The taste in the back of your throat and the pounding just behind your eyeballs is reminding you of that.
You are alone in your bed, and you can't remember why. Your nightmares usually leave you alone when you have someone warm to snuggle up to. Maybe that's why you sought companionship in a bottle instead. You remember your two boys bickering over something unimportant. You don't remember what exactly, but… bleargh.
Perhaps in your nostalgia for those times when you had plenty of handsome young men to wait on you hand and foot, you may have somewhat brushed over how prone to drama men can be. And of course, your princes thrive off drama. It's their meat and bread.
But, seriously, you cannot deal with it sometimes.
Swinging your legs out of bed, you gracefully lurch to the window and yank the curtains open wide. The sudden rush of blood to your head from rising too quickly leaves the world spinning, so you lean against the glass. It's cool against your brow and forearms, thankfully, but it'll be heating up soon enough. Just before dawn is often the coolest time in Cahzor.
The great ruin lies down below. In the pink pre-dawn light, the domes and spires of the temples that are probably making all that racket catch your eyes. For once, there is greenery. Long-dormant seeds sprout from the broken stones of the dusty roads and the accumulated dirt on rooftops. There is water in the river, though it does not make its way all the way down its old bank before the thirsty ink drinks it up. A few days ago, you saw a waterfall from one of the faceless mile-high statues that loom over the valley. It was almost like it was weeping.
It is not just the plants which are experiencing a brief flourishing, you think with a wry smile. Cahzor itself has come to life in the aftermath of the change rain. You have seen more sandship sails down in the ruin as hunters and desperate men try to harvest the bounty of chaos. Water prices are cheaper up here, and the souks of the city are selling strange mutated creatures and plants.
The souks…
Yes. That's right. There's no way you're getting back to sleep. You don't want to get back to sleep. Not if it means more nightmares. So you might as well start the day early. You can nap during the hottest hours of the day, perhaps after a romp with one of the boys if they feel like kissing and making up. That sounds like a sound plan.
You idly rub your thumb against the raw patches of skin on your hands and fingertips. Maybe there might be some aloe leaves in the souks, too. Or at least some oil infused with such leaves. That would be good for skin rubbed red by your personal training with Blue. Your darling has been such a use for helping you get back into shape. Maybe you should get him something nice.
Stepping away from the window, you begin the bleary hunt for your dressing-gown. You feel cold and clammy; you probably reek of fear-sweat from the damnable nightmares. There's no way you're going out like this. So what you will do is get your maid, whose name you might even remember one of these days, and head down to the bathhouse. You want to get as much done before the day heats up.
Listen to the sound of the wind cresting over the rim of the dam and blowing through the narrow buildings. Such a melancholy sound, no? It is almost musical. It sounds like those wailing pipes from those towns up near the top of the Fire Mountains.
But you left those behind a month and more ago. No, now you are in Cahzor-upon-Dam – or Zorpondam, as you have started to call it, just like the locals do – and it is unmistakable. You couldn't believe that you are anywhere else. It's the smell of the wretched Little Nam, you see. It's quite unforgettable, though you wish you could. You might have gotten slightly inured to it, but then again that might have just been the rainfall diluting down that foetid cesspool.
Even if it wasn't for that awful, nose-ruining scent, you'd still know where you are. There are many souks in Zorpondam, but you have little interest in the little ones on rooftops that only sell the strange, squirming crustaceans from the Little Nam, coarse flour, or ration-measures of water. No, what you are more interested in is the markets that might accumulate things from the city below.
That is why you have come to the creaking edifice of the Tahrib, which sits in an ancient arcade which grows out from the side of the dam like a cyst. Its roof is canvas and sheets of plundered metal, its walls shake when the wind howls, and cables as thick as your waist anchor it to man-sized pitons sunk into the stone. It is not, technically, part of the city on the dam, because it does not sit on it. It is a tributary, ruled over by its own petty warlord. His men and women stand around, each one wearing a crimson turban wrapped around their helmets and a brass ring in their noses. You've already seen them viciously beat a suspected thief - and threaten to toss her over the edge.
But no one could control this souk. There are many people in here, locals and travellers alike, and the raised voices of the vendors with the bright head scarves and lurid market paintings overload the ear and the eye alike. Each seller seeks to drown out the others - or perhaps it's in their interest that no one can hear themselves think. Blue smoke swirls in the air from the market vendors and their hash and tobacco. Polished mirrors diffuse light around the spaces inside, cutting god-like rays through the haze. At least it is cooler here than it should be with all these bodies around. Clunking mechanisms take the strength of the wind that blows over the edge of the dam, and turn great fans that look like they were once the propellers of Shogunate ships.
It is Jupiterday today, and that means that the Tahrib has the paper-merchants and the books-sellers here. If anyone asks why you are here, it is simply you need some finer writing-paper - and you certainly do! You have letters to exchange with some of the people you met at the Kinzira party. But that is not the whole truth.
Anyone who knew you - and no one in this city does, apart from Sei - would know you like books. You like them a lot. And Zia had mentioned at the party that the Tahrib often had books for sale, found in the city below. But when you had been planning this day's excursion, you hadn't fully appreciated that just because the book-sellers were here it didn't mean that everyone else left. Instead, it feels like everyone else has just crammed in tighter.
And so you wander through this trove of scrap and plunder and waste, taken from the remains of Cahzor. There, a merchant sells cutlery and plates, the ancient metal polished to shine until you could use it as a mirror. There, someone is doing just as the Chiaroscuroans do and is selling weapons made from shards of the crystal-glass from the towers that gleam down in the heat haze. Over there, a seller of cloth and garments plundered from long-forgotten wardrobes; there, a showman who boasts about the wyldfruits he's selling, "Freshly plucked after the change rain, oh yes!", and their many marvelous medicinal properties.
A puff of flame draws many eyes, not least because it is tinged green. It casts long wavering shadows through the smoke, and for a moment strange creatures seem to dance on the walls.
"Come one, come all, and see the mighty demonic curiosities of Wazir the Wise!" calls out the man at the front of the store; his hair elegantly swept back, his goatee neatly trimmed, his fingers bedecked with rings. Prize among them is something that is either a sizable emerald or a good fake. "Power beyond question, wonders beyond understanding, and all for the right price."
He gestures to the strangely shaped brass statue before him, and another jet of greenish flame erupts from its mouth.
"Ladies and gentlemen, for just a small payment one can initiate into the masteries! Books! Books! Books of hidden secrets, for the learned!"
You laugh. Oh, you're no demonologist, but you have known those who were - and alchemists too. And as a result, you can say for a fact that that puff of green flame was copper-green, not the strange fire of Hell that casts no shadows.
This showman is a con-artist, nothing more; a man with a knowledge of a little alchemy and just enough knowledge of Hell to fake the green flame. Still, he has the con-artist's patter down. You linger by his stall, for the amusement if nothing else.
"You, beautiful lady," he calls out, with a florid flick of his long sleeves. You're wearing a thin veil like many of the locals, but there's no way you can pass as one of them to someone who pays attention. "Come to seek power from my trinkets and magical accoutrements? Safeguard your fortune, hide your valuables, perhaps even acquire a potent familiar spirit?"
"What would you recommend?" you ask him, smiling. You want to see how he works.
His eyes greedily look you up and down. With a flick of his hand, he has a hardwood box sitting in his palm. It would be more convincing as magic if he wasn't wearing such long sleeves. "Come closer," he says. You play along, as he pops open the catch and reveals… a dried frog. "This here is the demonic spawn of one of the demons known as the amfelisiae," he says furtively. "You look like the kind of powerful lady who has enemies. Yes? Something a good luck charm such as this would fend away."
"A what?" you ask, draping yourself in an ingenue air. Yes. As you thought. He knows just enough for the patter.
"These demons have the appearance of frogs," he says. "And this is an infant one. See how it has six legs?" It does, but in your professional expertise as a wyldworker that frog has been exposed to chaos and twisted. "It is because it is the child of a demon. Something like this would be a powerful protective thing, emplaced above your heart or hidden under your bed."
"Maybe later," you say, shaking your head. Powerful women look for protection, so that's what he recommends you? You're almost disappointed. You had hoped he'd at least try to lure you with a forged book of demonology or perhaps a statue of a demon. It might have been an amusing trinket, or something which could have been planted in the hands of a rival. A dried frog is just… boring.
Still, he isn't just relying on the interested travellers. You keep an eye on him, and more than a few Cahzori stop at his stall. None of them seem to take anything from him, but you see the handing-over of what you suspect is a promissory note.
Shaking your head at the foolishness of the locals, you resume your exploration of the souk. There are things to be found here you can make use of. For example, a roll of pink chiffon salvaged from a sand-choked warehouse nearly gets you to buy it, but the cost is just too much for you to consider it worth it.
Loud-mouthed High Realm manages to catch your attention through the clamour and you tense up. Cold fear churns in your gut. No, they can't be here for you. It's probably just traders. Just two tall traders, a man whose hair is coal black and speckled with embers, and a woman whose skin is porcelain-smooth and whose hair is marble-white. Well dressed. She has a two-handed axe with a black jadesteel blade on her back; he carries a sheathed sword on his hip. You don't need to see his fire lilies and her sprouting grain to see that they're dragon-children too.
Fuck. Dynasts. And they're coming your way.
"Oh look!" the man booms and your heart skips a beat. "Look at these weavings! They're so quaint."
"And overpriced. Look at this trash. You'd think these dust-mouthed peasants would think to cut their prices so we'd actually buy something. Maybe they're just waiting to go home to their stinking huts down by that disgusting lake. They probably relieve themselves in there, you know."
"Listen, Rani, you can't just say that in public, even if it's right."
"Why? These savages can't understand us."
A gemstone seller serves as a cover, and his rows of agates and moonstones look tolerable, polished to a shine by the pair of grubby children who squat in front of his stall. You square your back, preventing passers-by from getting a look at your face.
"Are these from the city?" you ask, trying to mimic the local accent as best you can. They're right behind you. Right behind you. Need to stay calm.
"No," he says, the look in his eyes telling you that you might not be succeeding. "They're bought from traders from Gem. Best quality, I tell you."
"Well, I suppose I can take a look."
After some bartering, you take a trio of moonstones off his hands for a fair price. Notably fairer for you than perhaps for him, but his first offer was really insultingly high. If he hadn't had such a presumption to ask that much of you on the assumption that you were an easy mark, you wouldn't have had to put actual effort into kicking his feet out from under him.
If there are two dynasts here - well, it would certainly benefit you to make yourself scarce from the city. You were planning that anyway, but this is definitely putting more pressure on you. Hopefully they're just travelling along the trade routes and will be gone after a day or two of rest.
Dragons, please let them not be here for you.
At least they're loud-mouthed and making no effort at all to blend in. Even through the clamour, you can hear them as they amble down the packed aisles. Just to be sure, though, you head for the nearest stairs to get away from them. You can't look like you're rushing, so you make sure to browse the stalls.
And it's at one paper merchant that you find what you were looking for. Well, no. Not looking for. Hoping against hope that you would find something.
Because as you sort through the samples of paper on the stall, you recognise something. The symbols on one sheet are done in the notation of Queen Tszalir, called by some Zaleer or Siluru. The ancient witch-queen, who ruled before the dragon-children cast her and her kind down; a great and terrible sorceress whose wicked deeds were only matched by her brilliance. Many spirits still use her notation to describe works of magic, and so you were forced to learn it.
Maybe this is just some scam. Some trick where someone is copying mystical symbols onto ancient paper to get people to pay above the odds. You almost hope this is the case. It hurts to feel such desperate desire pulsing in your chest.
The young man behind the stall, one side of his face scarred by pox, missing both his front teeth catches your eyes. "Milady, how about you? Fine quality papers for your household! Ancient is always better! The ink'll wash off, no problem!
These fools! These fools! Oh, you can see how this… this wretched city does it. In the dry, the ancient paper will be well-preserved – and it's not like there's the plants or reeds growing in the area that would allow them to make their own paper. So they plunder the archives and libraries down in the city below, tear the leaves out of books or cut up scrolls, and erase the ink. Just to jot down their… their family accounts or write insipid letters or whatever idiots do with paper.
How much priceless knowledge has been destroyed?
Some of your towering rage must have shown on your face, because the young man flinches and swallows. "Not that I meant any offence," he begins.
"No, no. It's nothing. It's alright." You try to relax your jaw so you're not speaking through clenched teeth. "This does look like particularly fine paper. I haven't seen much like it in a while." You call your dragon-blood to the fore, breathing out the scent of pines and mountain flowers. He might not know what you are, but he will know he's your inferior. He will know to obey you. "I will take it all. Even if it isn't as fine as that, my servants will have a use for it."
His eyes light up. "Yes, milady! And…"
Interrupting him, you raise one finger. "But there is something else." You brush your fingertips over your eyelids.
"Yes?" he asks eagerly.
You mouth Sei's true name, and his face goes slack as his mind falls into your eyes. "You agreed to tell me where this paper came from. And you have sworn not to tell anyone about this." You smile sweetly. The light from your eyes plays over his features. "You can wake up now, darling."
Elation turns so swift to rage. You retreat back to your rooms with your purchase - and a hired porter or four to carry it - and scatter it across the floor of your bedroom. You get to work sorting through the papers, simply trying to isolate the book that the Tszaliran symbols come from.
Blue enters without asking, perhaps drawn by the fact you might have been exploring the limits of your vocabulary a teeny weeny bit as you sought to vocally express your dissatisfaction with the document-handling of the Cahzori.
"Who must I kill, fair lady?" he announces. The air shimmers around him, like stars seen through winter cloud.
"How did this moron even get hold of something worth this much? Couldn't this simpleton have recognised it as something beyond his tiny understanding?" you yell at him.
"Huh?"
"He's probably sold most of the pages already! All I have are these scraps! Fuck all paper sellers who tear pages out of books!"
"It shall be done, lady! This I vo-"
"No no no no," you manage to get out before this can go very, very wrong. "I'm furious, Blue, but don't vow to go kill anyone!" You thump the nearest pile of paper, scattering pages. "Argh!"
"Huh?"
"Blue, I love you, darling, but I just can't deal with you right now. Go be stupid and adorable elsewhere." You take a deep breath. "Just stop saying 'huh' and go find other ways to amuse yourself."
He sweeps in, resting a shiny black hand on your shoulder. "But lady, what if I want to make you happy?"
"Blue?"
"Mmm?" He gazes into your eyes soulfully. There is distinctly an air of smouldering going on, and a pout on his lips.
"You are standing on my papers." You jab a finger on him. "And I'm trying to sort them! Out!"
"But…"
"I mean it! Shoo!"
You don't feel much better having banished him, and not just because he knocked over one of your piles that now you need to sort all over again. There's a little voice in your head that considers whether maybe what you need is some attention from him, but you trample that voice down and kick it into the recesses of your mind. Blue can't think he's being rewarded for this. And this is power! Dregs of power, from the book of some long-lost sorcerer of Cahzor past, but you were never one of those elitist, 'properly-trained' snobs from the Heptagram. You taught yourself, and that meant that you had to learn to get power where you could find it.
Even from scraps like this. Like a feral dog, scavenging from the bins. Except even now you really are scavenging, not just drawing knowledge from sources that those bastards with a 'proper' education disdain.
Argh! You can't work like this! You need a proper workroom for your sorcery. Somewhere no one can enter without your permission, somewhere with a proper filing system and space to do things and… not trying to do things in the bedroom of a hotel room! And you need books and proper shrines and reference materials and everything you don't have.
"This old paper," you mutter to yourself. "So dusty."
You blot your eyes on your robe's sleeve, and get back to sorting through the leaves. And by the evening, when the day is starting to cool down, you know more about the desperately few pages of interest.
The individual who wrote them was a priest-lord, who channeled the power of the Cahzori gods and the minor spirits of the world. But they were much less foolish than their descendants. You might not know the name of this long-dead sorcerer, but their personality seeps out through their work. And this one is someone who was some kind of Immaculate, or at least some kind of post-Immaculate heresy. One whose worship was - as proper worship is - a social phenomenon, an offering to powerful beings to win their favour in the grand designs of Heaven.
One needs the authority of the gods to use their magic, but a dragon-child has many ways to get it.
There is one spell that's nearly intact in all these papers, and fragments of others. You can use this. Oh yes, certainly you can use this.
You leave a note for Amigere, and then head out to clear your thoughts.
Night has fallen by the time he finds you. You await him cross-legged in the greenhouses of the Blue Lotus, sat under the boughs of the fruit trees. A few of the lights of antiquity still work here, casting a dim light over the space. The air here is humid; overhead, you can see unripe mangoes. They grow them under glass not for heat, but because it allows them to stop the water escaping. Cracking open an eye, you watch him look nervously over the flowers that lean in towards you.
"Meira?" he calls out.
"Oh, there you are, darling!" you say, pretending to only just have noticed him. You pat the earth in front of you. "Come, sit with me."
"Why the note?"
A hissing overhead and a faint shower of mist marks what this greenhouse has for rain.
"I needed to meditate." Yes, and with your growing conditioning and increasing health, you have regained your connection to your wood-blood. Meditation here, in this place of your element, has strengthened you; rested you; healed your minor aches and pains. It's a little trick you learned as a young noblewoman, because a graceful willow shows not weariness nor pain - but your own decline and your injuries meant you could not use it when you most needed it.
"Oh." He brushes his hands along the trees, but wipes the moisture off before he sits in front of you. "Are you feeling better?"
You smile at him. "Somewhat. Now, you know we are looking to launch an expeditiation down into the valley?"
"Yes, but as I said, we have to wait until the chaos-taint burns off."
"Mmm." You look at him. "We need to move the timetable forwards. If nothing else, I want to see what it is like in person. We might need to launch a smaller expedition than planned, or else attach ourselves to one that's heading the right way, but I think we can't delay any longer."
"Why?"
Because there are Dynasts here, you don't say. "Financial concerns, darling," you say. "The longer we stay up here, the more it drains my money. Even if this place is paid up, it's going to likely take several attempts before we find something, so we need to get started soon. And something else. I may have a clue about something which may lead to profit. Tell me, the gods of Cahzor - do you know anything of them?"
"Not much. Why?" Amigere runs his fingers through the feathers on his head, grooming out the moisture. You could tell him it's all for nothing. You've been sitting here long enough that you are quite soaked - and your light shift is distinctly see-through. He hasn't noticed yet in the low light, but that's all right. You'll spring it on him if you need to persuade him.
"I found some papers in one of the souks which hint at something - but I need the favour of the gods for it. I was hoping you knew about their temples."
"Ah." As you knew was coming, the misters spray again. "Well, the greatest temples of Cahzor aren't here."
"They aren't?"
He shakes his head. "No. No space, for one. And remember; once this city was mighty. They built grand temples for their gods. The city died, but some of the priests still hold on to their former domains. The way I hear, there are temples the size of small towns down there that have become towns, ruled by the priest-lords. The ones that aren't abandoned, at least."
"Mmm." They could be useful. The jansi have their own circles of power, but so will the priests. Especially when they have this secular power. Some people might hold out hope that the priest-lords are more morally upstanding than the other aristocrats, but you're not a naive child so you won't. The jansi… there's a thought. Of course, if you wanted to perhaps make a deal with one of the families you met, they have gods too. Not the Kinzira, though. You didn't like the look of their gods.
And then there's the abandoned temples. Oh, there's potential there. A desperate god is one who won't have much choice. But will need more doing for them. There's something to be said for an ally who's strong enough that you won't have to do everything yourself.
But regardless of what you choose, it's a way to get out of Zorpondam. A way to make yourself scarce. And then - oh yes - power. The very thought makes you pleasantly warm inside.
"What did you find? Because you're thinking of something," says Amigere, rudely disturbing you from your thoughts.
"I am, darling. I am." You lean in, and kiss him on the beak so he doesn't ask any inconvenient questions. From the way his eyes widen, he didn't expect it. Neither did he realise how clinging your wet clothes are. "And that's why you're going to help me. Aren't you?"
"I thought you'd have your new lover."
You laugh at that. "Amigere, darling, my love. Blue is a moron. I wouldn't trust him with a sheet of paper. When I met him, it was a small mercy he wasn't bright enough to know I was tricking him. Oh, he's handsome - and you had fun with him too, didn't you?" His neck pinkens, and you smile.
"You knew?"
"Darling, of course I knew. You two made enough noise. But I'm not a jealous woman." Blue is a moron, but he's a very sexy moron. And for someone like Amigere… well, you wonder how many people turn him down just because he has a bird head. That's not something a prince of chaos would do. "Now, I just want you to be safe. He's very deadly, but he has barely more mental capacity than his horse."
"He has a horse?" He relaxes slightly.
"Sometimes." You kiss him again, rising to your knees. Overhead, the stars glitter and gleam in the cloudless night's sky. "He's useful, but you're more than that. I need you, darling. I love you."
"D-do you mean that?"
"Of course," you lie. "Now, help me out of my shift. I don't want it to get muddy."
Article: Rena has found a new, intact spell in these books - but can't use it yet, because she needs divine patronage.
Which new spell did Rena discover within the tattered book?
[ ] Amal's Gemstone Disc - Calling on ancient contracts with the gods, the sorcerer creates a flying, bladed disk made of precious stones which obeys her thoughts and which she can stand on. It can freely ascend up to around a mile or so above the ground, and travels faster than a galloping horse. In combat it can be ridden, or directed as a murder-frisbee.
[ ] Plague-Ridden Yas's Curse - On casting on food or drink that is then fed to a target, they will over the next few days sicken with a great number of illnesses known to the tallymen of Heaven. The target is non-infectious, and can be treated conventionally, although most mortals will perish even with treatment. The sorcerer can release the target from their illnesses by casting it in reverse. The notes also indicate that it can be cured by "true love's kiss".
[ ] The Lulling Mist of Ragiba - A rather amusing mis-use of the peace granted to the servants of the great goddess Venus, this spell creates obviously unnatural and faintly sparkling lavender mist that drugs any who inhale it (apart from the sorceress). Those with strong constitutions may be able to remain functional, but most will fall asleep where they stand under its influence. The mist obscures visibility, and moves at around walking pace when commanded by the sorceress's will.
Article: What type of god will Rena look to negotiate with?
[ ] The Strong. There are gods who have adapted to this state of affairs, who lord over temple-towns and whose worship has spread far and wide. Rena will plan to travel to one such temple-town, and make an arrangement with their priest-lords. Oh, it's more Cahzori politics, but it's a political arrangement independent of the jansi.
[ ] The gods of the Jansi. Rena made contacts with the jansi at the party. She'll visit the home estates of certain of her new friends, and make an arrangement with one of them - perhaps for services rendered - for the backing of their family gods. It'll tie her to that family, but that has both advantages and disadvantages.
[ ] The Decayed. And then there are the gods who have not adapted, whose empty temples only hear the grinding of sand. Weak gods, who were once strong. Rena will look to seek out one of those gods, and make such a deal. She'll have to do more for such an arrangement of power, but they'll be dependent on her. Oh, and some exploration of ruined temples might be involved. There may be giant rolling boulders triggered by pressure plates.
- Location
- France
[X] The Decayed. And then there are the gods who have not adapted, whose empty temples only hear the grinding of sand. Weak gods, who were once strong. Rena will look to seek out one of those gods, and make such a deal. She'll have to do more for such an arrangement of power, but they'll be dependent on her. Oh, and some exploration of ruined temples might be involved. There may be giant rolling boulders triggered by pressure plates.
Having leverage over a divinity would be pretty sweet. Plus more temple exploration! It's only positives in my book. Now I'm not sure about the spell but I think the disc solve several problems
[X] Amal's Gemstone Disc - Calling on ancient contracts with the gods, the sorcerer creates a flying, bladed disk made of precious stones which obeys her thoughts and which she can stand on. It can freely ascend up to around a mile or so above the ground, and travels faster than a galloping horse. In combat it can be ridden, or directed as a murder-frisbee.
1-It provides much needed mobility: we can rush somewhere and do a dramatic entry or escape into the sky like an anime villain. It's faster than a horse without it's limitations for terrain and that isn't nothing.
2- I can be used as a single target attack spell, which Rena doesn't have. Plus it can surprise the enemy if they don't expect the transport disc to turn into a murder freesby.
3- So many villain style points gained with a flying platform. So many.
Having leverage over a divinity would be pretty sweet. Plus more temple exploration! It's only positives in my book. Now I'm not sure about the spell but I think the disc solve several problems
[X] Amal's Gemstone Disc - Calling on ancient contracts with the gods, the sorcerer creates a flying, bladed disk made of precious stones which obeys her thoughts and which she can stand on. It can freely ascend up to around a mile or so above the ground, and travels faster than a galloping horse. In combat it can be ridden, or directed as a murder-frisbee.
1-It provides much needed mobility: we can rush somewhere and do a dramatic entry or escape into the sky like an anime villain. It's faster than a horse without it's limitations for terrain and that isn't nothing.
2- I can be used as a single target attack spell, which Rena doesn't have. Plus it can surprise the enemy if they don't expect the transport disc to turn into a murder freesby.
3- So many villain style points gained with a flying platform. So many.
Last edited:
- Location
- PA
Hrrm...
So I must say, did anyone else hear the 'HOW DARE YOU!' in Rena's voice when she mentioned scalping that one trader for his moonstones?
[] The Decayed. And then there are the gods who have not adapted, whose empty temples only hear the grinding of sand. Weak gods, who were once strong. Rena will look to seek out one of those gods, and make such a deal. She'll have to do more for such an arrangement of power, but they'll be dependent on her. Oh, and some exploration of ruined temples might be involved. There may be giant rolling boulders triggered by pressure plates.
Tempting. Highly tempting, even if these guys might recognize our armbands.
[X] Amal's Gemstone Disc - Calling on ancient contracts with the gods, the sorcerer creates a flying, bladed disk made of precious stones which obeys her thoughts and which she can stand on. It can freely ascend up to around a mile or so above the ground, and travels faster than a galloping horse. In combat it can be ridden, or directed as a murder-frisbee.
This just sounds awesome, a blinging gem platform, because being on a pesdastal is exactly what Rena's ego needs to start inflating itself uncontrollably once again!
I just hope there's not too many people sappy enough to go for that 'true love's kiss' spell. I don't care how much it's a staple! European hacks are only respected because of the strength of their arms-*rant rant rant*
So I must say, did anyone else hear the 'HOW DARE YOU!' in Rena's voice when she mentioned scalping that one trader for his moonstones?
[] The Decayed. And then there are the gods who have not adapted, whose empty temples only hear the grinding of sand. Weak gods, who were once strong. Rena will look to seek out one of those gods, and make such a deal. She'll have to do more for such an arrangement of power, but they'll be dependent on her. Oh, and some exploration of ruined temples might be involved. There may be giant rolling boulders triggered by pressure plates.
Tempting. Highly tempting, even if these guys might recognize our armbands.
[X] Amal's Gemstone Disc - Calling on ancient contracts with the gods, the sorcerer creates a flying, bladed disk made of precious stones which obeys her thoughts and which she can stand on. It can freely ascend up to around a mile or so above the ground, and travels faster than a galloping horse. In combat it can be ridden, or directed as a murder-frisbee.
This just sounds awesome, a blinging gem platform, because being on a pesdastal is exactly what Rena's ego needs to start inflating itself uncontrollably once again!
I just hope there's not too many people sappy enough to go for that 'true love's kiss' spell. I don't care how much it's a staple! European hacks are only respected because of the strength of their arms-*rant rant rant*