[X] Tentatively accept. Elda seems confident that you won't bring trouble to her establishment, you'll learn the local currency from what patrons pay, and you might have managed to turn your new magic into a viable weapon by then.
I'm just hoping the personal connection to a location would help us in Tapping it later. Being limited to our own natural regen is a pretty annoying impediment.
[X] Tentatively accept. Elda seems confident that you won't bring trouble to her establishment, you'll learn the local currency from what patrons pay, and you might have managed to turn your new magic into a viable weapon by then.
-[X] Ask if Elda can provide you with any resources for learning the local language. Being illiterate is awful.
At this point, Blake really needs even just a little time to think, plan, learn, and gather some basic supplies. Elba appears to be benevolent, and if she isn't, well then we're going to have to just planeswalk randomly in a panic anyway. We have not guarantee whatsoever that the roads are safe for a lone traveller, or that the next city will have someone willing to cut us a decent deal. Better to be safe than sorry.
[X] Tentatively accept. Elda seems confident that you won't bring trouble to her establishment, you'll learn the local currency from what patrons pay, and you might have managed to turn your new magic into a viable weapon by then.
-[X] Ask if Elda can provide you with any resources for learning the local language. Being illiterate is awful.
"Before I answer either way," Blake began slowly. "Could you tell me how you knew about the crossbow bolts? Are they unusually loud, have the Briars kidnapped so many people that it's become common knowledge, or…?"
Elda's mouth tilted upward at one end.
"Hardly. I'm a co-owner of a reasonably popular inn, and I have friends. Use your imagination."
Blake obeyed and promptly pictured Elda casually chatting with the earlier pursuer. It was a paranoid thought and the Faunus knew it, but at least Elda didn't seem to take whatever she saw on Blake's face personally; the innkeeper let out a little laugh and elaborated.
"No, I don't think they've abducted that many people. They used to use similar bolts to down entire flocks of Whitewings to the north and it wasn't hard to put the pieces together after screeches started being heard in town. Since Lord Battalia isn't paying for hunts anymore, I suppose a few of them decided they needed another source of income. It's not like all of the Briars turned bad, though; I've heard over half the Guild left in the months since they went Dark, and some of the others say they're staying just to convince their friends to pull out.
"Frankly, I'm not too surprised you were chased. You stand out like a caltrop. But if you're worried about them coming in here, you shouldn't be—there's an ocean between tolerating attacks on outsiders until Lord Battalia regains control, and attacking people indoors. I expect you'll be fine provided that you don't go out."
The former White Fang member found herself breathing a bit easier at that. Huntsmen and Huntresses were known to occasionally wreck businesses that irked them. It wasn't uncommon for the prestige of Grimm-hunting to far outweigh whatever the public thought about such an assault against civilians, and most media sources did their utmost to maintain that state of affairs. Couldn't have humanity doubting their protectors, could they? So why not dig up every little citation and possible criminal suspicion in order to retroactively justify the attack? More than one bewildered business had found themselves blamed and their name dragged through the mud, further exacerbating whatever damage the Huntsman or Huntress had already inflicted. And of course humans hardly cared that Faunus-owned businesses were the most frequent victims; the racist bastards even used it as a talking point to claim that Faunus were criminal scum! Overall, Blake was relieved to hear that such leeway wouldn't be granted to the local Dark Guild and hoped legal Guilds would be subject to that same scrutiny.
Still, wasting a whole week? Blake had gone through far longer periods of accomplishing little, true, but at least she'd been training or reading during that time.
"You really should sit down," Elda commented, and moved to poke her head around one of the room dividers. "Cinzia, mind the counter, would you? I'll be busy for a few."
"'Kay!" a cheerful voice called back.
The innkeeper turned back around and gestured for Blake to follow her further into the inn. Blake revised her estimates of the number of staff and customers—another four waitresses and fifty-plus customers—as Elda led her through another two dividers and into a stone-floored back room. Judging by all the extra chairs and shelves of dishware, Blake was guessing it was meant to both act as a place for employees to eat and as storage for possible item replacements.
Blake sank into the polished wood seat offered by Elda before the woman left the room. The offer sounded both generous and sensible, Blake had to admit. The Faunus had gotten overconfident and assumed that her Aura and Semblance would grant significant advantages over the average Wizard. She hadn't really considered the fact that they also presented an outside-context problem for her, and Blake had been on the verge of being kidnapped because of it. At least Elda didn't let her stew for very long. The innkeeper returned with a modest chunk of bread, a bowl of what looked like beef-onion soup, and a mug of what Blake guessed was cider.
You didn't see her preparing it. Any one of them could be drugged.
Blake ignored her own paranoia and gratefully accepted both food and drink. She was pretty sure soup didn't qualify as drippings, but supposed Elda was just being generous or trying to coax her toward extended employment. The Innkeeper even sat across from her; if Elda really wanted to hurt Blake, it seemed sensible to sit further away than that. Besides, Blake was already hosed if Elda couldn't be trusted.
"Does your advice change at all if I say I'm far faster than a normal traveler?" Blake asked. "If the town to the west—Belonde?—is within four or five days of travel for a normal person, then I think I could reach it within one. I don't think I would need a bedroll at that point, would I?"
Elda leaned back and silently stared at Blake. It took a pointed look at the food for Blake to understand the delay and sheepishly begin eating.
"One," began Elda, holding up a finger for each point. "You're then in a far smaller township with no money, no Guild to drive out any Briars members who might have wandered over, and in a place that's already used to not having Wizards on hand to solve their problems. You'll repeat this whole mess with someone who might be more willing to exploit a vulnerable young lady for personal gain. Frankly, I'm being generous. Most employers only let their waitresses keep one in two of the coins from tips, and the items you're seeking aren't cheap. You're lucky I have extras laying around.
"Two, those ears with your clothes still mark you as a blatant Wizard and outsider. The ears alone might be from some small magical proficiency, a Magic Tool, or a Lost Magic accident, and your clothes alone would have people expecting protectors nearby—or thinking that you were a suitable target for ransom, actually, so never mind that second one. Point is that you still don't fit in.
"Three, there's no guarantee that you won't encounter delays on the road. It isn't all that uncommon for monsters to wander onto the road and sunbathe on the stone. They'll generally wander off again after a few hours, but trying to inch around them just isn't safe. Rain or even just delays at the gate—unlike here, they charge a small toll for entry—might slow you down yet further.
"Fourth and finally, anyone who looks for any amount of time is going to realize you've been sheltered. No scars, no blemishes, barely any calluses, and no hair below your head," concluded Elda, waving at herself to emphasize the contrast.
Blake blinked rapidly and glanced at her own hands. She hadn't really thought of it as at all abnormal, but she supposed Elda had a point. The locals displayed patches of mildly discolored skin, tan lines, freckles, bodily hair, and other oddities that weren't half as common among Remnant's general public and were almost extinct among those with unlocked Aura. Perhaps there were more differences between their populations than Blake had first realized.
The lack of scarring was another story, but one that she could take pride in rather than be puzzled by. It meant she hadn't sustained any significant wounds while her Aura was depleted. If there was one thing her Semblance was good for, it was avoiding personal injury.
"Finish your meal; I still intend to put you to work tonight," Elda instructed, and waited for Blake to resume eating. "It shouldn't be a problem while you're here, although I'd be careful when it comes time to leave; you shouldn't tell anyone else when you're leaving, and you shouldn't follow anyone out of the inn no matter what they offer. You have my permission to lie about a future free day if anyone asks; that should encourage anyone malicious to wait until then rather than lurk outside the inn."
The innkeeper leaned forward and propped up her chin with both hands.
"I don't need to tell you where children come from, do I?"
White Fang members had previously joked about seeing if Blake could cough up hairballs. That experience proved valuable in keeping her from inhaling her own food. It was harder to conceal the ice-pick Elda's question had jammed into her chest. Blake had resigned herself to breaking up with Adam days before the train her last mission, but even the man he'd become didn't stop her from loving the person he'd once been. She imagined her apparent death at SDC hands would only further fan the flames of his growing anti-human loathing.
"No," Blake flatly replied. "No, you most definitely do not."
A flash of what might be mischief crossed Elda's features. It was gone before Blake could be sure.
"Do I need to explain loving relationships that can't produce children?"
I would be a hypocrite if you did. Blake had yet to pursue any other women, although according to one of her friends—okay, the only non-romantic friendship Blake still maintained before she left—"At least you still have eyes!" A stab of guilt reminded Blake that she hadn't even warned Ilia of the planned departure or left the chameleon girl with any sort of contact information. Blake hoped Ilia wasn't taking the mission's results too hard; Ilia had been a little too comfortable with the White Fang's shift toward violence, but she was still a good person who wore her feelings on her sleeve. And her legs. And her skin. Really, changing eye and skin color with emotional shifts made it almost impossible for Ilia's mood to be anything less than infectious.
Stop dwelling on the past before it slows you down. Now is not the time!
"What happens between two consenting adults is none of my business," Blake briskly summarized, and shifted to a more relevant subject. "If you really think it would make that much of a difference, then… I want to say I'll stay the whole week? That's contingent on the job not being awful, though. I won't let people manhandle me."
Elda's budding smile was immediately overtaken by a look of horror.
"Oh, heavens forbid, no! When I said to alert me of anyone getting grabby, I didn't mean to just stand there and take it! No, no, I'm not sure if you've had enough exposure to notice yet, but Wizards tend to shrug off blows that would permanently cripple anybody else. Casual violence just doesn't mean the same thing to them. Hurt them a little if you need to; just please try to avoid leaving them with anything that won't heal in a day or two. They don't deserve destitution from one mistake."
Then they should keep their hands to themselves, Blake didn't say aloud. Even then, however, she would admit the reminder was well-placed. Mild annoyance frequently convinced other members of the White Fang to bodily throw each other across the room, and such displays were reportedly common even among professional Huntresses and Huntsmen. Attacks against Aura-users just didn't mean the same thing.
"I can do that much," Blake acknowledged, and sniffed at the mug she'd been given.
Definitely alcoholic.
Blake hadn't quite registered that Elda had promised three mugs of alcoholic cider per day, but she supposed other sources of clean water weren't as common in this time. Could Blake manually purify liquids with Black? It would certainly save her a great deal of work down the line.
It can kill, but not cleanse, her instincts seemed to whisper. A variant on the White cup-cleaning enchantment would be better.
"Good." Elda stood up. "Gioia should have left you a bag of clothes in the furthest upstairs washroom. Leave your own inside and I'll come stow them for you. Cinzia should be able to answer any questions. Do try to start as soon as you can; the dinner rush isn't getting any less frantic, and I'd prefer not to make you work the night before you leave."
"Ah—" Blake started, and hesitated. "Is there anything you can do or recommend to help me learn the local script? I can't read or write in it and that's made matters a great deal more difficult."
Elda stopped, closed her eyes, and sighed.
"If you ever see them again, do be sure to thank whoever taught you to speak Lyrian. Your accent is barely noticeable at all. I can at least teach you your numbers, and we can discuss more if you do a good enough job."
Learning the local pricing made Blake want to shake sense into whomever was responsible for it. Eight silver pieces made up the larger spit, and there were six spits to the weighty grasp. They drifted to something vaguely resembling sanity with a hundred grasp to a mina, and promptly tossed that out via sixty minae to a Lyrian talent. Intellectually, Blake understood that the relative values were due to the respective values of precious metals, but really! Would it kill them to resize the coins for consistent conversions? No, it did not help that the minae and talents were units instead of an actual currency! Blake was relieved that she only needed to remember the 8:1 conversion rate for pieces to spits.
The slightly scratchy fabric of Blake's borrowed clothes wasn't the most comfortable, although her Aura protected her from any abrasions or other harm. The brown gown and grey tunic certainly weren't a combination Blake would have picked for herself, but—well, she didn't really care. Even with her ears visible, people were far more willing to acknowledge she existed without stretching into staring long enough to make her uncomfortable. Oh, a number of the customers complimented her "cute ears," but they truly seemed to mean it and even the better-dressed weren't forward enough to harass her. They might ask her about herself and her ears, but a few vague deflections were generally enough for them to leave her alone.
(She had never been so glad to learn that romance novels had lied to her.)
It took Blake a few hours to notice how few tankards and mugs she was delivering compared to the other sections. It seemed she'd been assigned to the easy one; Elda really was intent on coddling her. Blake also pretended not to notice how blatantly the other waitress in the section, Cinzia, wished to cuddle her. It would be demeaning and invasive to pet Blake's ears back on Remnant, but Cinzia didn't know any of that and Blake figured the ignorant innocence earned some leeway. Plus, it was hilarious to see the cheerful waitress trying not to squee where she thought Blake could hear the sound.
Totals generally came out to roughly one spit per person per meal with an occasional silver piece as a tip, and nobody tried to haggle. Watching for when someone might want something kept her just attentive enough to avoid mind-numbing boredom without extending into stressful hypervigilance, and she found herself gradually relaxing after the first hour. She could even practice knowing when nearby Colored impressions entered or exited her range. Currently unreliable or not, that extra sense was practically a Semblance unto itself.
She expected something to spoil her mood sooner than later—a rude customer, uncomfortable ogling, seeing someone with a Burning Briars mark, something. None of that manifested. By the time it was time for her to go to the room she shared with Cinzia, Blake found herself feeling safe and content for the first time since she arrived.
…Mostly. Blake gave a level look to her far-too-energetic roommate.
"Please don't try to pet my head while I'm asleep," the Faunus requested in her best deadpan.
Cinzia let out an audible eep! and stared at Blake with wide eyes. The Faunus turned away to conceal her bubbling laughter and stretched out as far as possible. The bed might be somewhat stiff, but at least it was a bed. She made a mental note to learn how expensive a magically heated blanket or bedpad might be; that would definitely be one of her first purchases as soon as she had more disposable income.
Does that mean, if you have a piece of cake with mold, cleaning would make it perfectly edible, while using black to kill the mold would retain the metabolite, and you might get food poisoning when eating it?
Does that mean, if you have a piece of cake with mold, cleaning would make it perfectly edible, while using black to kill the mold would retain the metabolite, and you might get food poisoning when eating it?
Blake is a bit fuzzy (heh) on that front. She does know that White could remove both mud and germs from water, while Black would just annihilate the germs. If biochemical compounds are one of the targets to be destroyed by Black, then it might become safe; otherwise, yes, something like food poisoning might still be a risk.
She'd be pretty leery of eating once-spoiled food either way, though. On top of normal disgust, she feels like Black might do other unpleasant things to it. Water feels more stable.
EDIT: Fixed "remove water and germs from water," lol.
Out of curiosity, were these explanatory details given (regarding travel times, the township and so on) always planned to be given there, or were they born from the in-thread discussion?
They do provide good in-character reasons for the choice, but they also hit a number of discussion beats the thread had.
Learning the local pricing made Blake want to shake sense into whomever was responsible for it. Eight silver pieces made up the larger spit, and there were six spits to the weighty grasp. They drifted to something vaguely resembling sanity with a hundred grasp to a mina, and promptly tossed that out via sixty minae to a Lyrian talent.
...
Blake was relieved that she only needed to remember the 8:1 conversion rate for pieces to spits.
This actually brings up a good point regarding Aura regen. All these little things you'd normally build up over life would presumably heal over time. What does Blake know about Aura regeneration?
Does it just speed up the natural healing of injuries and make sure they get fixed right, or is it a more supernatural healing that'll make sure to even heal stuff that would normally scar as long as you have some active Aura? Is it effective against illnesses and aging or just a combat buff?
Edit: Never mind the spellcheck that was here, my mind finally processed the sentence.
Out of curiosity, were these explanatory details given (regarding travel times, the township and so on) always planned to be given there, or were they born from the in-thread discussion?
They do provide good in-character reasons for the choice, but they also hit a number of discussion beats the thread had.
Does it just speed up the natural healing of injuries and make sure they get fixed right, or is it a more supernatural healing that'll make sure to even heal stuff that would normally scar as long as you have some active Aura?
Yes, having unlocked Aura passively speeds up healing from injuries. "Heal stuff that would normally scar as long as you have some active Aura" is an oxymoron — if you run out of Aura, you can sustain hits that will scar; otherwise, you're largely pretty safe.
Partially (higher resistance, lower recovery time) and Blake isn't sure, respectively. There are plenty of examples of reasonably well-preserved Huntsmen and Huntresses, but it isn't exactly a career that lends itself to reliable retirement. She's leaning toward thinking they don't live too much longer, at least; they might just look better doing it.
Yes I turned RWBY's animation quirks/limitations into a plot point and you can't stop me
She made a mental note to learn how expensive a magically heated blanket or bedpad might be; that would definitely be one of her first purchases as soon as she had more disposable income.
Magic items are probably expensive. A spell may be better. Straight up heating would likely be Red, but temperature regulation is probably Blue (and different utility).
She expected something to spoil her mood sooner than later—a rude customer, uncomfortable oogling, seeing someone with a Burning Briars mark, something.
Yes, having unlocked Aura passively speeds up healing from injuries. "Heal stuff that would normally scar as long as you have some active Aura" is an oxymoron — if you run out of Aura, you can sustain hits that will scar; otherwise, you're largely pretty safe
While I can't speak for anyone else, it looks to me like you misunderstood somewhat; I think they meant essentially that, once reactived, aura might heal the wound and the resulting scar kind of like the difference in d&d between fast healing and (a very limited version of) regenerate.
I mean, society functions because people are usually fairly decent so it's not that outlandish. The average person may not be an exemplary paragon but they're probably not really a bad person either.
Find me the right target, and sky's the limit.
Realisticly though, i could see Blake getting into some sacrifices through animals or plants.
how much life force does a tree have? A field of grass? a cow?
Could you still eat a cow once it is drained? I suspect no, but not 100% sure.
I assumed such, but good to have confirmation. I must say I quite like this style; actively encourages discussion and lessens the disconnect between players and character.
While I can't speak for anyone else, it looks to me like you misunderstood somewhat; I think they meant essentially that, once reactived, aura might heal the wound and the resulting scar kind of like the difference in d&d between fast healing and (a very limited version of) regenerate.
Nah, Alivaril understood my question right. I was simply wondering if Aura would heal someone who sustained a scarring injury while it was still active. Turns out it just can't happen in the first place.
Whether or not it'll remove scars after reactivation is actually already answered through this line:
It meant she hadn't sustained any significant wounds while her Aura was depleted.
Does it just speed up the natural healing of injuries and make sure they get fixed right, or is it a more supernatural healing that'll make sure to even heal stuff that would normally scar as long as you have some active Aura? Is it effective against illnesses and agin
All three universes are at least somewhat AU, but in canon Blake herself is an example of the fact that a serious wound will still leave a scar behind once Aura is back up and healing.
She gets stabbed through the stomach, with the sword coming out her back, and thanks to Aura is at least fighting fit literally the next day, but the scar is still there.
Self-improvement isn't actually all that common in MtG, period. In most formats that I know of (admittely, it's been years since I played), the player is an entirely passive target with no personal combat ability beyond their spells, and there aren't a whole heck of a lot of Enchantment spells that target players. Many of the ones that Black has are, admittedly, negative. But so are the vast majority of such cards. Almost every card with "Enchant Player", in all five colors, has the subtype "Curse". I found a grand total of twothat weren't, neither of which are recent.
Black does, however have plentyofspellsthatimprove creatures. I found all five of those without going past "C" in the search results. It does often seem to involve becoming slightly vampiric, demonic, or undead, but I think I spotted a few that don't when I was digging for Enchant Player cards (that search term threw up a lot of false results of "enchant XYZ, player controling that XYZ [insert effect here]"). None of them are especially recent, but many of them post-date my time with the game. There are also multiple pureBlackPlaneswalkercards that can improve creatures, and even more multicolored ones I won't link. Sorin Markov seems particularly prone to being given empowering effects. None, admittedly, that improve themselves, but again, Planeswalker cards generally don't get to fight themselves, unless they can make themselves into a creature temporarily. I vaguely recall something of the sort being a thing, but I think that's more a Green or White mechanic.
Point is, given the differences between the gameplay of MtG, which treats Planeswalkers as unique entities which can't be affected by spells that target creatures, and this game, where we're treated as no different from the people around us, with regards to spell targeting: yeah, we probably can empower ourselves, and not necessarily just by stealing life force from others. It might involve Demonic Take Over magic or something similarly form altering, but it probably can be done. Cards may not necessarily be indicators of how things in this setting work, but they are just about the only baseline we have, barring WoG.
I would argue that that is an artifact of the frame story of the game (or at least the old frame story. Dunno what the new one is, or if they bothered with one). Namely: players were planeswalkers conducting proxy battles as demonstrations of skill and power.
Yawgmoth was that master of self-improvement. You would be 'compleated', whether you wanted it or not. He turned himself into an artificial god at the center of his own artificial plane centered on black mana like Serra's was on white mana. Without being a planeswalker. It took a set of oldwalkers armed with dragon engines, nine?, to beard him in his den. The end result was a series of events that screwed Dominaria so hard that there have been at least 4 complete storylines as Magic sets/blocks dealing with the incident and its continuing aftermath.
So I can definitely see self-improvement being used as a break the mold/think outside of the box type of thing for Blake. Mainly I think the fact Fairy Tail has a Mirror World is a big opportunity for black shenanigans if she gets to that without planeswalking elsewhere.
Partially (higher resistance, lower recovery time) and Blake isn't sure, respectively. There are plenty of examples of reasonably well-preserved Huntsmen and Huntresses, but it isn't exactly a career that lends itself to reliable retirement. She's leaning toward thinking they don't live too much longer, at least; they might just look better doing it.
Yes I turned RWBY's animation quirks/limitations into a plot point and you can't stop me
If Qrow is any indication, aura also grants a high resistance to poison.
He was exposed to a poison that ate through stone, and fought it off better than a normal human fighting off normal scorpion venom.
According to a quick search, signs of scorpion poisoning normally show up within a few minutes and reaches peak severity within 5 hours, so his symptoms were heavily delayed.
.
