"Why would that be, Giralt?", the Unfettered Prince asks, perhaps a moment too late for it to matter.
[dice=Perception]1d20 + 10
[dice=Will Save]1d20 + 15
** spoiler omitted **
The Unfettered Prince detects nothing awry.
The Unfettered Prince feels a powerful entity enter into his body...
"Why would that be, Giralt?", the Unfettered Prince asks, perhaps a moment too late for it to matter.
[dice=Perception]1d20 + 10
[dice=Will Save]1d20 + 15
** spoiler omitted **
The loquacious blonde boy virtually clucks his reply, "Cause' the neewowbees and gumpabas'll get cha'."
1. Does the Unfettered Prince still have access to his various magics?
2. Does he still have control of his body?
Because if either or both are the case, there are things I could try to expel the intruder.
If not, are there any other options open to him?
** spoiler omitted **
The Unfettered Prince stands, with a growing sense of annoyance, then simply says:
"Begone, spirit."
The Unfettered Prince stands, with a growing sense of annoyance, then simply says:
"Begone, spirit."
A threatening telepathic communication suddenly appears in the mind of the amnesiac fey,
::::"Foolish little sprite! You may in no kind so easily dislodge the attentions of the Serpents of the Shadows. For we are old and wise and strong in spirit. Those who built this place could not do so, and neither shall you!"::::
Eirikur feels a strange sensation come over him as he touches one of the pillars.
Eirikur feels a strange sensation come over him as he touches one of the pillars.
[dice=Will Save] 1d20 + 8
Eirikur feels a supernal presence fill his body, a sensation something akin to a ray of sunlight suffusing every limb to its outermost extremities.
Cal woke to the sensation of something softly bumping into him. As he blinked away, a grey beach stretched before him to both his left and right. Looking back, he saw he lay on a beach half in the water, although he felt neither wet nor cold. "Hello?" he called out, but he stopped from speaking as his voice sounded distorted, echoing out of attunement. He moved to sit and noticed something rigid sitting on his back.
Reaching back, he instinctively drew a blade, a longsword he mentally corrected himself, which appeared to glow with inner light.
He sat the sword on the beach and rolled over into a sitting position, in time to see an odd group arrive on a wooden platfrom - dock he corrected himself - and move further inland.
He had not seen the platform beforehand.
With no other options, he sheathed his sword and stood, walking towards the dock. Glancing towards the water, he saw that it was not as he seemed to remember water: instead, it was more like a moving opaque pane of glass; moving to look at his reflection, he saw that he cast none.
Shrugging, Cal turned and followed the group, which contained a winged man, a massive winged li...Dragon, and a humanoid of some kind walking into town, which seemed to distress the small humanoid population, sending the scattering before this odd collection of individuals.
Cal followed along and watched them interact with an oddly dressed Humanoid, although anything they said came across more as waves of sound than cogent words. Cal tried calling out to them, but no one responded to his words. He tried touching the non-winged man, but Cal's hand passed right through him.
Wherever he was, it was clear that he could only observe, not interact.
After a while of standing around speaking, the new arrivals followed the Human into a large building on a hill. Inside they continued to eat and talk, and as before Cal could not make out what they were saying.
Leaning against the wall, he realized that, watching them eat, he was neither hungry nor thirsty.
After their meal, Cal followed them into another location, this time a place that lead into the ground with strange glowing symbols on the floor, the likes of which he had never seen. The others continued on, but as Cal tried to step over one of the runes to follow, he found himself unable to move or speak.
Interesting came a thought unbidden into his mind, though it was clear that it was not his own. This one appears to be stuck.
Indeed came a different voice in response to the first. Well, we best give it a push; can't have it mucking about here doing DAMAGE." As the second voice spoke, Cal felt himself being shoved sideways, and found himself retching on a cold floor.
Looking around, he realized he could see color, and hear normal sounds.
"Hello?" he called out quietly, quite enjoying the sound of his voice. Is that what I sound like? he thought. Not too bad.
As he stood listening to the sound of his voice ring in his ears, he realized he had fallen behind the others. Stepping over his mess, he quickly walked after them. They were standing around a device, having a discussion.
Clearing his throat, Cal said "Hello? Can you hear me?"
The man who stands before you is, for lack of a better word, perfect. His collar-length black hair is just the right shade of black to set off his sapphire-colored eyes.
He stands just a shade over 6' tall and is clearly in good shape, but it's more the runner good shape than the bodybuilder type.
He wears a zipper hoodie with a wolf's head in profile, howling up at the sky, when the eyes and fangs a silver color; blue jeans and engineer's boots round out his clothing.
He wears stereo headphones around his neck, and the handle of a sword extends over his left shoulder. Finally, signet ring sits on the middle finger of his right hand.
"No, no treachery. I'm just very confused at what is going on here, and how I came to be here."
If the Unfettered Prince has seen the newcomers, he does not acknowledge their existence. It is clear, particularly to the other amnesiacs, that he is locked in some ferocious internal struggle.
He appears to be speaking, then roaring at some unseen presence.
"I..."
The horned figure begins to ripple, then...expand.
"...said..."
He now stands a full eight foot tall, with skin even more reminiscent of living marble, and a *presence* full of an air of inborn authority.
If the second dismissal doesn't work, can I use my newly-acquired 1/day Mythic Improved Iron Will? That would be a reroll versus the possession set at 20+will=60
Watcing the man transform into something akin to a stuatue, Cal says "Okay, then, I don't want to interrupt whatever that is, so if you could please point me in the direction of..." Cal paused for a moment, clearly straining to remember something, before saying "That's odd, why can't I remember the name of where I'm from?"
The look on Cal's face suggests that he is trying to remember something, which on him looks a bit like he's trying to scrape peanut butter off the roof of his mouth with his tongue.
|
Unsure what is happening, Arc moves to the door, putting himself between everyone and the exit. There is a significant menacing aura about him as he asks aloud of the humans, "What is happening?"
"I don't know either. I woke up on a beach not too long ago and followed your group up here. I tried talking to you all or shaking you to get your attention, but you could neither see nor hear me, and my hand passed right through you."
For his part, Cal seems unafraid the massive dragon before him. He looks him in the eye, and seems to be genuinely confused as to what is going on.
He came to himself, as he knew he often did, as he was walking. Nothing else was known at that moment -- not his shape, not his history, not even his name. But in the midst of a step, he was suddenly aware, walking from one place to another. Unknown his destination, unknown his origin, unknown his capabilities. A look down at himself informs him of what the most common physical form is; his body is always made to blend in, though he knew he would have advantages built into the form. After all, why pay the price of immortality if you cannot survive its rigors?
As always, there was something to hand; his head turned naturally to allow him to regard it. In this case, it was a staff of some sort, near equal to his own height, girded with three thick metal rings spaced a thumb's-width apart near the top of the staff. He knew instinctively that each of the metals were different from each other, and nothing so mundane as simple iron or steel, but could not say how he knew.
In the other hand was something as well -- or rather, cradled in his other arm. Nestled there (he saw, as his head turned to regard the wonder) was a small being the length of his forearm, which he had no doubt was bound to him, and he to it; there were wings of a translucent and fanciful nature, wrapped around what, yawning and stretching, seemed to him to be a tiny but otherwise perfect feminine form. She was in turn curled around a slender length of heavy steel, sheathed in what looked to be fine leather of some sort: a duelist's blade something more than two-thirds her own height. Smiling up at him, she gripped the sheath with one fine hand, then leaped out of the cradle of his arm to fly in a swirl around him as he walked, her wings a moment of musical song before she came to settle upon his shoulder.
"Good morning," she said.
"Good morning, Sy'ad," he replied, knowing without knowing how that that was her name. "Did you sleep well?"
"I do not remember," she answered, looking around at the surrounding buildings with obvious curiousity. "Where are we? When are we?"
"I have no idea," he admitted blithely, "but it's certain to be a learning experience."
"The infinite fool, you are," she responded, her tone both fond and mildly chiding.
He shrugged, eyeing those up to whom he finds himself walking, his clothing (sandals, loose pants, a simple calf-length robe, a belt of soft rope) comfortable but not remarkable -- very much like himself. Somewhat taller than the perfect black-haired Cal, he has none of the other human's perfection: brown skin darker than can be explained away by an excuse of 'field worker'; unexceptionally curly dark brown hair, clipped rather raggedly to a fingertip's length, clearly as poorly tended as his beard, which is in evident need of a shave. There is silver at his temples and lightly seeded throughout, including that stubble; a mole sits on the lower lid of his right eye, and other blemishes show themselves upon his arms as his sleeves shift to display them. Perhaps the only unusual element are his eyes, grey and steady.
The panel-winged miniature on his shoulder is as light as he is dark, pale skin and honey-blonde hair, though unlike the 'Infinite Fool', the latter's hair somehow tumbles to her waist without getting in the way of her wings. She is clad in tiny, tight-fitting trews and a simple tunic, and as her human conveys her, she carefully fits her scabbard into the frogs her belt holds ready to receive it.
Be at peace, the male instinctively projects to those before him. Are we not all travelers on the Way, seeking answers to questions we find ourselves asking? Let us put aside aggression and seek answers together.
I'm not sure what the save DC for Arc's Aura of Fear would be (not that the Infinite Fool is hostile), but I figured I'd roll anyhow.
If the Unfettered Prince has seen the newcomers, he does not acknowledge their existence. It is clear, particularly to the other amnesiacs, that he is locked in some ferocious internal struggle.
He appears to be speaking, then roaring at some unseen presence.
"I..."
The horned figure begins to ripple, then...expand.
"...said..."
He now stands a full eight foot tall, with skin even more reminiscent of living marble, and a *presence* full of an air of inborn authority.
** spoiler omitted **
The dark presence again resists the Unfettered Prince's furious attempt to dismiss it.
The eerie cadence of the presence's voice is heard again,
Your are not ssstrong enough to releassse yourssself from our power little sssprite:::
You can make another check -- even if you drive it out, it can try to possess you again.
Unsure what is happening, Arc moves to the door, putting himself between everyone and the exit. There is a significant menacing aura about him as he asks aloud of the humans, "What is happening?"
** spoiler omitted **
What's the DC on the save. Does the qualification about it not applying to creatures with higher HD mean that creatures with higher HD don't even need to roll, or they won't be subject to any condition even if they fail their check?
Cal turns to inspect the newcomer and asks "What 'Way' are you referring to?"
The Unfettered Prince thinkcasts out loud, a sudden spell of clarity upon him.
I think not, spirit.
The moment that he is able to, the Unfettered Prince removes his hand from the stone, breaking contact.
Your legendary clarity of thought allows you to resist nearly any mental attack.
Prerequisites: Improved Iron Will, Iron Will, Mythic Great Iron Will.
Benefit(s): Once per day, when you fail a Will save, you may choose to replace your saving throw result with 20 + your total Will save bonus (as if you had rolled a 20 on the d20 roll for your Will save, though this does not count as an automatic success). You must make this decision immediately after discovering your initial Will save failed. This benefit is in addition to (does not replace) the normal benefit of Improved Iron Will.
The Splinter World of Kyoonshar'ah, as suggested by the information gleaned from the words of the local Aeon Priest Brother Ismin and the loquacious blonde-haired youth Giralt, is a strange pocket dimension which occasionally opens within the foyer of the building known to the residents of Halfstar as 'the Conjugatorium', but which serves essentially as a local library and archives.
The two carved wooden posts which decorate either side of the main door of the Conjugatorium which opens onto the town's main thoroughfare depict serpentine entities locked in combat.
The mysterious figure known as Hadrama'aldramaan or Cigar Thane was the first to open the doors to this neglected half-world when he visited the town several generations past. Though renowned as a hunter and trapper, it is also rumored that Cigar Thane may have been a renegade from an early incarnation of the Order of Truth, the sodality of Aeon Priests who, under the guidance of the Amber Pope in Qi, direct the attention of the inhabitants of the Ninth World in their study of the numenera scavenged from previous civilizations.
His most significant discovery, undoubtedly, was the 'firefly veil', a powerful numenera which is still used to protect the settlement of Halfstar from intruders.
The presence of this and other numenera within the vicinity of the town offers powerful evidence to the general consensus among its population that the settlement was founded in a time previous to, and served an important function within, the modern era of only a few centuries that is marked by the rise of the Amber Papacy and the nations of the Steadfast.
The Splinter World of Kyoonshar'ah was first entered by this enigmatic 'Thane', but has been occasionally reached by others, including the aunt of the youth named Giralt, a local healer named Shelane Cebadi.
The legends that have grown up around the strange dimension have increased over time.
It is said that Thane encountered 'serpents of light and shadow', or at least that is what it is reported that he related of his time within Kyoonshar'ah. The children of the town have adopted this story into their local legends, and refer to the entities as the
"neewowbees" and "gumpabas", the former being the 'serpents of light' and the latter being those of darkness. It is said that these 'serpents' will join one's shadow or aura.
It is not know if these are variations of the same species, or different organisms, only that both appear to be incorporeal possessing entities that can enter travelers who journey within Kyoonshar'ah.
Some of the locals, including Mejani Traithe of the Laughing Goose Inn, have preserved a legend that Thane returned from his excursion within the half-world possessed by one of the entities, though which one varies with the narrator, and this presence does not seem to have prevented him from exercising and out-sized influence on the town's future development.
Thane claimed the neewowbees had expressed to him that the named of the half-world was Kyoonshar'ah, and that it had been built by these same 'serpents of light', but the serpents of darkness had invaded and defiled its ritual grounds. It was constructed by these entities as a means to communicate with other dimensions, something like a combination of a window, a musical instrument, a translation device, and a ritual cordon. The serpents of light employed Kyoonshar'ah as a means to engage with and communicate to inhabitants of other dimensions, but the serpents of darkness attempted to exploit this bridge to other worlds as well, and encroached on the creation of their light counterparts.
The 'Splinter World' is some four hundred and fifty paces in length, and roughly three hundred in width, though the sides of the large, cavern-like space are not even. The floor is composed of elaborately carved wooden tiles that undulate along the highly variable floor level of the strange space. The basic impression one receives is of a large sanctuary carved within some kind of rock made of wood, or a tree composed partly of tone, since the sides of the vast chamber appear to be composed of a rock-like material, while the other portions are apparently made of wood.
Though the 'perfect human' with the peculiar accoutrements speaks, the Infinite Fool cannot understand his words ... but the little one on his shoulder is a different matter. The dark-skinned man tilts his head to one side and says something to her in his own language, whatever that is, and the little winged warrior-woman replies; her words are understandable by all*. "He asked, 'What 'Way' are you referring to?'"
Giving an understanding nod, he looks at the other and conveys to him (and the others) by way of their shared thought-domain, You ask what 'Way'. I mean that of life and living, of course, the path upon which we all walk our own pattern, and the landmarks of which are different for each of us, but which we, now and then, share with others. It would seem that for some reason, we are to accompany each other on some portion of our particular journey along the Way.
He shrugs, and moves past the black-haired man, in through the entrance hall and into the fracture's housing. Lifting his staff to carry it over the shoulder opposite Sy'ad -- and with the air of someone of whom this is a common occurrence -- he treads lightly upon the peculiar intermeshed 'tiles' of the floor, examining them for a moment before speaking again to the small fluttering-winged woman.
"[What do you make of this, Sy'ad? Intermeshed, and the great muscular one seems to be at odds with some thing or another.]"
The tiny one seems to consider and analyze for a few moments, then replies to him.
The language inside the [] is meant to indicate the long-forgotten language that the Infinite Fool and Sy'ad share. I am strongly considering making it an blend of song, expression, and gesture, extremely information-dense as every element is information or modifies the information contained in another element -- kind of like the native language of Pilot in Farscape.
Sy'ad knows a considerable amount about, well, everything -- but she has to be consulted, even in such a general way as TIF does above; she never immediately volunteers information. (Think of it as needing to actually ask your computer to look it up.) That said, she does have a significant depth of knowledge about pretty much everything -- +56 to +58 on every knowledge skill, +1d6 from inspiration. I'm not sure which KSs would be useful/required -- from the viewpoint of the character, she simply knows what she knows, and doesn't have to consider which pigeonhole it might slot into -- it seemed from previous posts that defining which skill you're rolling for is preferred, so I'll just go ahead and roll all of them.
I personally have no doubt that with a general minimum of 58-60, Sy'ad will be able to give the Fool the information in the GM post above, so I'm going to work with that assumption -- though granted, I'm not going to do anything just /yet/.
The response of the little one makes the human pause for some time, considering options -- and potential consequences.
The rock-like walls of the Splinter World extend up into a vault which is lost in shadow, though it is a darkness that seems to undulate slightly as if a living thing... if one were to examine it long enough from a perch, far, far below, on the 'floor' of the enormous extra dimensional chamber.
Kyoonsha'rah is some four hundred and fifty feet in length, and approximately three hundred and fifty feet in width at its widest point, though the walls of the 'west' and 'east', or 'left' and 'right' of the chamber decrease and increase in separation as the space unfolds outwards from its entrance at the main door of the Halfstar Conjugatorium.
The 'bottom' of the space opens onto what appears to be some kind of roughly-hued throne which arises, in an organic fashion, from the 'floor' of the Splinter World.
The floor itself seems to be made out of some kind of wood or, more specifically, bark, that, upon closer inspection, appears to be made out of artificially constructed cubes of a tree-like material that faintly glow with an inner illumination.
In a curious fashion, the small, regularly sized cubes combine to create, overall, an impression of an organically produced space, the intense symmetry of its building blocks somehow disappearing into the larger architectural composition.
Proceeding around each side of the roughly-hewn 'throne', the main level of the Splinter World rises in somewhat subjectively defined tiers which might be numbered between seven and nine. The height of the highest tier is a considerable distance above the entrance zone, and in fact appears higher than it should be when one looks back from the 'northernmost' point of this dimension. The uttermost 'north' is a kind of balcony that veers off into what appears to be an endless darkness.
The tier above the 'throne' contains what appears to be a kind of recess that might have a ritual purpose, as well as a pair of deep channels in the curious wooden plane.
Further 'upward', the next tier is dominated, one the 'right' and 'left' hand side by two large statues of serpentine entities.
At the far end of this pavilion is the ascent to the balcony that drops off into utter darkness at the far end of the Splinter World. A staircase ascends on either side of another apparent altar or ritual instillation to the overlook.
Though the 'perfect human' with the peculiar accoutrements speaks, the Infinite Fool cannot understand his words ... but the little one on his shoulder is a different matter. The dark-skinned man tilts his head to one side and says something to her in his own language, whatever that is, and the little winged warrior-woman replies; her words are understandable by all*. "He asked, 'What 'Way' are you referring to?'"
Giving an understanding nod, he looks at the other and conveys to him (and the others) by way of their shared thought-domain, You ask what 'Way'. I mean that of life and living, of course, the path upon which we all walk our own pattern, and the landmarks of which are different for each of us, but which we, now and then, share with others. It would seem that for some reason, we are to accompany each other on some portion of our particular journey along the Way.
He shrugs, and moves past the black-haired man, in through the entrance hall and into the fracture's housing. Lifting his staff to carry it over the shoulder opposite Sy'ad -- and with the air of someone of whom this is a common occurrence -- he treads lightly upon the peculiar intermeshed 'tiles' of the floor, examining them for a moment before speaking again to the small fluttering-winged woman.
"[What do you make of this, Sy'ad? Intermeshed, and the great muscular one seems to be at odds with some thing or another.]"
The tiny one seems to consider and analyze for a few moments, then replies to him.
** spoiler omitted **...
The serpentine entities known as the "neewowbees" and "gumpabas" by the local children of Halfstar were once members of one species that was called, among other names, the tehorumathalluamassamassa, who were a race of 'poets and thinkers' who journeyed in incorporeal forms throughout the various dimensions of the multiverse.
One faction of these 'seekers' began to enjoy possessing the natives of other dimensions, and became known as 'shadows', while another strove to maintain their original intent of mere exploration and non interference. The latter created this Splinter World as a means of communication between the incorporeal existence of the tehorumathalluamassamassa and bodied entities of other dimensions.
However, the 'shadows' seized control of the facilities and used them to possess several members of the settlement that preceded Halfstar, an event which was closely connected with the eventual virtual depopulation of the settlement prior to the arrival of Cigar Thane.
The entrance to the Splinter World opens when both the 'shadows' and the 'fireflies' agree in a common interest in inviting a new visitor that holds opportunities for both entities. They can observe the town through the devices embedded in the gate to the Conjugatorium.
Though the 'perfect human' with the peculiar accoutrements speaks, the Infinite Fool cannot understand his words ... but the little one on his shoulder is a different matter. The dark-skinned man tilts his head to one side and says something to her in his own language, whatever that is, and the little winged warrior-woman replies; her words are understandable by all*. "He asked, 'What 'Way' are you referring to?'"
Giving an understanding nod, he looks at the other and conveys to him (and the others) by way of their shared thought-domain, You ask what 'Way'. I mean that of life and living, of course, the path upon which we all walk our own pattern, and the landmarks of which are different for each of us, but which we, now and then, share with others. It would seem that for some reason, we are to accompany each other on some portion of our particular journey along the Way.
He shrugs, and moves past the black-haired man, in through the entrance hall and into the fracture's housing. Lifting his staff to carry it over the shoulder opposite Sy'ad -- and with the air of someone of whom this is a common occurrence -- he treads lightly upon the peculiar intermeshed 'tiles' of the floor, examining them for a moment before speaking again to the small fluttering-winged woman.
"[What do you make of this, Sy'ad? Intermeshed, and the great muscular one seems to be at odds with some thing or another.]"
The tiny one seems to consider and analyze for a few moments, then replies to him.
** spoiler omitted **...
The floor of the mid-section of the Splinter World known as Kyoonsha'rah by the 'fireflies', the subspecies of incorporeal 'serpents of light' which created this strange dimension, is embedded, upon closer inspection, with a strange sort of fossilized body.
This entity is known as the Song Spinner to the 'fireflies' and was already present within the strange extra-material matter they gathered up to create Kyoonsha'rah. They have used the mechanism of the 'wells of song' -- the epithet the 'fireflies' have given to some of the communicative functions of the Splinter World, to communicate with this Song Spinner, and refer to it as a 'She' or 'Her Majesty'.
'She' will only speak with either the 'shadows' or the 'fireflies' individually, but not at once, and will not tell either what she communicates to the other party. Both simultaneously crave her attention and are mistrustful of her intentions.
It is believed that the Song Spinner is a remnant of the dead world from whose fragments Kyoonsha'rah was created. Thus, she may be the last of her kind, or even her entire plane of existence. However, she has neither confirmed nor denied these theories, and evaded any attempt by the 'shadows' and the 'fireflies' to deduce her true nature.
Both the 'shadows' and the 'fireflies' believe she may have communicated a great secret or truth which they refer to as the Sovereign Key to the human known as Hadrama'aldramaan or Cigar Thane during his brief visit to the Splinter World some few centuries previous to the present day. They eagerly wish to deduce if this is the case, and, if so, find a means of extracting this information from another interlocutor of the Song Spinner.
The Unfettered Prince thinkcasts out loud, a sudden spell of clarity upon him.
I think not, spirit.
The moment that he is able to, the Unfettered Prince removes his hand from the stone, breaking contact.
** spoiler omitted **
The Unfettered Prince thinkcasts out loud, a sudden spell of clarity upon him.
I think not, spirit.
The moment that he is able to, the Unfettered Prince removes his hand from the stone, breaking contact.
** spoiler omitted **
The Unfettered Prince thinkcasts out loud, a sudden spell of clarity upon him.
I think not, spirit.
The moment that he is able to, the Unfettered Prince removes his hand from the stone, breaking contact.
** spoiler omitted **
The Unfettered Prince succeeds in breaking contact with the enigmatic monolith. It towers over the strange, upward-undulating space of the Splinter World some fifty feet or more, and is shaped out of some kind of wood like substance. It resembles a twisting, serpent like creature stacked in row upon row of coils, and surrounded by a cloud of darkness. From the diamond-shaped head of the entity, long whiskers stream out like the jet of some grotesque fountain.
The voice of the Aeon Priest Brother Ismin is heard again from the entrance to the Conjugatorium, over whose threshold he has not trespassed.
"I confess I agree with the youth -- laying hands unknowingly upon any of the numenera that exist in this dimension is highly inadvisable. It is said in own local legends that Cigar Thane was never the same after he had entered Kyoonsha'rah. Though I suppose, if one takes the legends at face value, he accomplished enough thereafter that the experience doesn't seem to have done him any harm... but there is nevertheless a high degree of uncertainty in any proposition or action involving this strange place."
The Unfettered Prince now stands eight feet tall, with sleek black hair reaching three feet down his back. The even more massive musculature upon his frame resembles tanned marble of a mobile statue, a smidgen greyer than it was moments ago. He wears only a loincloth, a leather strap across his huge chest, and an engraved helm which sports a pair of curled horns. Likely trophies of some ferocious battle though it is unclear whether the horns are attached to his helm or his flesh.
That the Prince's face is hidden is no impediment to gauging his moods, as he is immensely expressive and unconcerned with deceit. Self-assurance and a sense of authortity radiate from his figure.
He turns towards the newcomers and mindspeaks to the room:
"That *irritation* is done. A self-proclaimed "Serpent of the Shadows" infiltrated me and mocked my first efforts to dislodge. It seems that internal struggle fueled a change in my form. I know not whether this is a return to past strength, or power anew. It matters little - I have driven off that spirit completely."
"I would greet you properly, now that I am undistracted. I am the Unfettered Prince and I would know whom you are and what you intend."
The figure's mood is one of sheer confidence and now, curiosity.
"You can call me....Cal I guess. I know it's not my whole name, but it's about all I can remember. As for what I intend, I would like to go home, whereever that is."
It's clear that Cal is not a native telepath, as he tends to speak aloud as well as telepathically.
The Unfettered Prince now stands eight feet tall, with sleek black hair reaching three feet down his back. The even more massive musculature upon his frame resembles tanned marble of a mobile statue, a smidgen greyer than it was moments ago. He wears only a loincloth, a leather strap across his huge chest, and an engraved helm which sports a pair of curled horns. Likely trophies of some ferocious battle though it is unclear whether the horns are attached to his helm or his flesh.
That the Prince's face is hidden is no impediment to gauging his moods, as he is immensely expressive and unconcerned with deceit. Self-assurance and a sense of authortity radiate from his figure.
He turns towards the newcomers and mindspeaks to the room:
"That *irritation* is done. A self-proclaimed "Serpent of the Shadows" infiltrated me and mocked my first efforts to dislodge. It seems that internal struggle fueled a change in my form. I know not whether this is a return to past strength, or power anew. It matters little - I have driven off that spirit completely."
"I would greet you properly, now that I am undistracted. I am the Unfettered Prince and I would know whom you are and what you intend."
The figure's mood is one of sheer confidence and now, curiosity.
The blonde haired, blue-eyed youth named Giralt giggles maniacally from his position beside Brother Ismin at the entrance of the Conjugatorium.
"Gumpabas gotcha, didn't they? Gonna getcha again maybe."
It never ceases to amaze me, the imperfect man muses 'aloud', no matter how advanced beings get, that the preferred methodology of discovery almost always starts out with their version of 'let's give it a poke and see what happens'. And not always with a stick. His head turns towards the eight-foot colossus, his body turning as well as he must in order to take them all in at once. I've no name yet in this time, in this place; Sy'ad, he 'states', the fourteen-inch-tall golden blonde duelist on his shoulder standing up straight and giving a courtly bow, likes to call me an infinite fool, so let's go with that -- the Infinite Fool. And why am I here?
He smiles, both impish and cheerful. I'm here to poke things with sticks.
Pacing thoughtfully across the floor, he seems to be examining it for something in particular as he walks; a few murmured/sung words, accompanied by gestures with his hands and almost dance-like positioning of his body, send his tiny companion into the air, her wings beating firmly as she rises and spirals above him, apparently on the look-out for whatever he is looking to find.
What the Fool is looking for is that 'strange sort of fossilized body' -- basically, Her Majesty the Song Spinner -- so that he can essentially address her directly. (Well, you'll see. Still working on the post, though.) If you care to adjust my place on the map, that'd be perfect.
** spoiler omitted **
The fossilized form of the Spinner of Song extends across the middle of the 'mezzanine' region in the middle of the Splinter World. 'She' appears to have possessed the form of something like an enormous water bug, with four long, spindle-like appendages.
The Infinite Fool stands near what appear to have been Her head. It seems strangely minute in comparison with the enormous scale of the rest of Her form.
The Unfettered Prince nods respectfully at the two new figures in turn, ignoring the jibes of the human.
"Cal."
"The...Infinite Fool."
Seemingly satisfied with the introductions for now, the horned figure now takes the time to look around him.
How much of the above detail would the Unfettered Prince know from a K. Planes roll? And would any other skill rolls help?
"So I take it then that none of you know who I am or where my home is then?" Cal asked, clearly hoping that he was wrong.
When he the answer came back as a negative, he said "Very well then." He then turned towards the priest and said "what was that proper noun you just used? Numaria?"
The Unfettered Prince nods respectfully at the two new figures in turn, ignoring the jibes of the human.
"Cal."
"The...Infinite Fool."
Seemingly satisfied with the introductions for now, the horned figure now takes the time to look around him.
** spoiler omitted **