The event, when it occurs, seems to happen in an instant. But it is really unknowable how long the darkness lasts -- it is certainly possible that the displaced consciousnesses of the inhabitants of Earth are displaced in the void for a geological age, or sent hurtling back many uncountable eons, before they find purchase, once again, through their awakening to this strange, new reality.
The darkness descends in a moment, and then lifts just as quickly, revealing a shaped, stone corridor whose floor and ceiling are made up of volcanic rock. The rock steams slightly, releasing a caustic exhaust into the subterranean air. The walls appear to be made of some other variety of stone -- and appears harder and more expertly-shaped, as if it had been transported into the tunnels once the initial passage through the volcanic massif had been made, at whatever undetermined time.
The bodies of the transportees are all laid flat upon the volcanic stone that forms the floor of the tunnel, and are surrounded by half a dozen humanoids -- two are anthromorphic mustelids, probably otters, one is a human with yellow lemon skin and spiky, violet hair and emerald eyes, and the three figures are diminutive humanoids with hairy feet and epicanthic eyes.
One of the mustelids announces in a distinctly feminine voice,
"Mother of mercies -- I think they're waking up again. Everyone, back up again give them some space -- remember what happened last time. They're going to need a second to process the transportation."
He looked up into a rough stone ceiling that was very defined, despite the darkness. This bring felt the hard stone floor under his back and shot upright. Several things were immediately wrong. He wasn't fat anymore, his signature gut was replaced by a 'small six-pack'; a term he heard said by others but never referred to him.
"Where are I?" A stranger's voice came out of his mouth, and immediately covered it out of shock. He wordlessly looked around as he sat, still holding his non-existent belly.
He looked up into a rough stone ceiling that was very defined, despite the darkness. This bring felt the hard stone floor under his back and shot upright. Several things were immediately wrong. He wasn't fat anymore, his signature gut was replaced by a 'small six-pack'; a term he heard said by others but never referred to him.
"Where are I?" A stranger's voice came out of his mouth, and immediately covered it out of shock. He wordlessly looked around as he sat, still holding his non-existent belly.
The, apparently female, mustelid speaks again, her shimmering garment of azure shells clicking slightly in the underground breeze that now rushes down the tunnel,
Don't overexert yourself. Past experience has taught us that the process of transference is extremely taxing on the mind and spirit. Not to ignore your question, we're in some kind of ruin off the coast of the Island of Raztaca, but that won't mean much to you at the moment, I'm afraid.
He just nods at the talking otter and continues to glance around, trying to control his breathing.
Jennifers' head pounded. Was it last night at the club, the drinking, the private dance, No that hadn't stopped her before so what was it. It was a strange feeling as if something was talking in her head?
Master or Mistress you must wake the event has stopped and we must well acclimate to the new status quo' the voice said in a very deliberate almost Meticulous sort of way. It was odd hearing a masculine voice that was precise to a fault. It had an accent she couldn't place though and she had worked near an Airport.
" I'm up, I'm up" came a rich baritone voice into the void. Jennifer blinked. Was that her!? It couldn't have been, she had a very feminine voice, a light and airy soprano with no gruffness like that voice had
"Was that me" was uttered and shock set in. The body of a middle-aged man of the desert sat up dressed in dark-colored traveling robes of the desert peoples. A Turban rested on her head ad something seemed to dig into her forehead.
"I'm a man! How, what..." came the stunned mind of Jennifer. It was strange here with all the various people or beings. What were these things? Her (or was it his?) mind raced as imagery and things filtered through. The disembodied voice began to guide her in her head.
'They are a race of people indigenous people here. It will take time, but I will guide you' the voice said still meticulous and precise.
And speaking of overexerting oneself, as soon as the light hit the sharp, trained eyes of the martial artist, she jolted awake, immediately putting her own six-pack to work in order to sit up in a rush. A movement that quickly brought Skylar, the new mind occupying that body, to feel dizzy and disoriented, placing a hand upon her hair to center herself again.
"Dang man, really outdoing myself with these dreams lately. So, what's on the menu for tonight?" She asked with a grin, the very concept of this new life escaping her thoughts completely. Recovering from the daze as swiftly as she got into it, Skylar was the first to take initiative and try to stand up, springing to life even if it momentarily costed her balance.
And speaking of overexerting oneself, as soon as the light hit the sharp, trained eyes of the martial artist, she jolted awake, immediately putting her own six-pack to work in order to sit up in a rush. A movement that quickly brought Skylar, the new mind occupying that body, to feel dizzy and disoriented, placing a hand upon her hair to center herself again.
"Dang man, really outdoing myself with these dreams lately. So, what's on the menu for tonight?" She asked with a grin, the very concept of this new life escaping her thoughts completely. Recovering from the daze as swiftly as she got into it, Skylar was the first to take initiative and try to stand up, springing to life even if it momentarily costed her balance.
The two diminutive figures, one clad in a bright blue robe, the other in a yellow robe, the former emblazoned with swirling designs of black and silver, the latter with gold and orange, rush forward to steady Xestris.
The feminine musetelid humanoid speaks again as she notices Xestris' attempt to rise,
"Steady, my dear, the transference is taxing, and I you'll need a moment to accommodate yourself. We should be safe for the moment, it's still several hours until sunset, as long as we can find our way back to the ship."
Jennifers' head pounded. Was it last night at the club, the drinking, the private dance, No that hadn't stopped her before so what was it. It was a strange feeling as if something was talking in her head?
Master or Mistress you must wake the event has stopped and we must well acclimate to the new status quo' the voice said in a very deliberate almost Meticulous sort of way. It was odd hearing a masculine voice that was precise to a fault. It had an accent she couldn't place though and she had worked near an Airport.
" I'm up, I'm up" came a rich baritone voice into the void. Jennifer blinked. Was that her!? It couldn't have been, she had a very feminine voice, a light and airy soprano with no gruffness like that voice had
"Was that me" was uttered and shock set in. The body of a middle-aged man of the desert sat up dressed in dark-colored traveling robes of the desert peoples. A Turban rested on her head ad something seemed to dig into her forehead.
"I'm a man! How, what..." came the stunned mind of Jennifer. It was strange here with all the various people or beings. What were these things? Her (or was it his?) mind raced as imagery and things filtered through. The disembodied voice began to guide her in her head.
'They are a race of people indigenous people here. It will take time, but I will guide you' the voice said still meticulous and precise.
The feminine mustelid speaks again, this time apparently to herself,
"Hmmm... and this one must have been a female on Earth. That's always more difficult..."
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She laid on the cold floor with the world spinning a bit and said in a long slow slur I object, defense is leading and then after a long moment she swung her legs and sprung up at incredible speed and tripped and fell forward not used to such speed and power in her body her hands extending and the skin ebony and she screamed a bit and then clamped a hand over her mouth staring at everyone else for the first time.
She laid on the cold floor with the world spinning a bit and said in a long slow slur I object, defense is leading and then after a long moment she swung her legs and sprung up at incredible speed and tripped and fell forward not used to such speed and power in her body her hands extending and the skin ebony and she screamed a bit and then clamped a hand over her mouth staring at everyone else for the first time.
"Mother of Mercies, there were never so many at the same time before!" the same female voice exclaims.
She turns to the yellow-skinned, purple-haired, green-eyed humanoid beside her, "Master Urtsin, where do you think we are in the shrine now, and how long do we have before sundown?"
Her interlocutor seems to grimace slightly, his pink lips closing tightly before he bites his teeth slightly, concentrating intently as he looks up, and then up and down the tunnel. He then pulls out a scroll, which he unrolls. The scroll contains several sketches of winding corridors -- probably visual notes he made while this company was exploring the complex
"Mistress Eftichia, I confess I am less than completely certain -- but I believe we are somewhere in the shrine poised halfway between the Caulosian monolith and the exist to the surface ruins of the ancient beacon. I believe we have about 6 hours until sunset left."
"Eftichia", that was apparently the name of the female mustelid, nods in recognition, then exudes a weary breath before replying, "And we've already been in here since first light -- those are unencouraging prospects for our return before sundown. Perhaps we can find a suitably illuminated chamber within the shrine if we fail to make the surface -- we passed several offering rooms with lava pools on our descent; if we stay in the middle of the offering room, and somehow seal the doors, we may just survive... but I'd prefer not to be forced to that extremity, we would be much better off in the aura of the everlantern aboard our vessel, even if it's currently immobile. That's a certain quantity."
She sighs again,
"Mother of Mercies, why did I volunteer for this expedition?"
The yellow-skinned man, whose name is apparently Urstin, chuckles,
"As if we could have kept you away Efti!"
He slowly rose from the floor and stumbled as his center of gravity had shifted from when he knew it.
"Oh! Oh. Sorry." He stood, feeling he was at least near the same height we formerly was. "Why is it important that we get to the surface before dark?"
He slowly rose from the floor and stumbled as his center of gravity had shifted from when he knew it.
"Oh! Oh. Sorry." He stood, feeling he was at least near the same height we formerly was. "Why is it important that we get to the surface before dark?"
Eftichia turns towards Azanoril,
"Well, Lord Silkenleaf --- I guess I should clarify that, first, that's the name I know you by, before.... well, whatever happened. I know that Lord Silkenleafs body has the mind and soul of someone from another planet called Earth, and I imagine you have or had another name there, so you'll forgive me if I don't know exactly how to address you at the present moment, but I'm sure you'll clarify the matter for me and the rest of our party once you've gotten your bearings."
She takes a deep breath,
"As for nightfall -- oh, it's hard to know where exactly to begin, but the pertinent fact is that there's something.... dangerous that comes with the night. No one has ever seen it, at least any that survived. We haven't had consistent contact with the continents north and south of us since the end of Kralizec, the Typhoon Struggle... but that's getting ahead of things, and that's so much to explain. What you should know now is that I am a kind of spiritual figure on an isolated island of this world, which is known as Sutra'ra -- among its many names. A great war war fought against the Sanguine Storm -- an alliance of malign powers that take the shape of dragons, but are not dragons, and that emanate from the various dimensions of the false elements -- the twisted copies of the True Elemental Strongholds of Earth, Air, Fire, and Water, and which include flame, stone, breeze, and many tens, or hundreds, or thousands of other such parodies. In any event, this war isolated the Island of Rasoom from the rest of our world, and your bodies, before the displacement, were members of an expedition from our island to explore the surrounding archipelago. We crashed our vessel into a reef, and were exploring ruins on this isolated atol."
"The night has brought with it, since the end of the conflict with the Sanguine Storm, a mysterious, dark presence, which moves only in shadow. All of our settlements on the Island of Rasoom are sheltered by the illumination of the everlanterns -- artifacts believed to have been the final gift of the departed divine creator of my people, the swift-footed deity Mercury. The last message of Mercury to his sybil warned our people and the other inhabitants of the island to take shelter within the everlanterns when the night came. Those that did not heed the warning were -- consumed. We found only eviscerated corpses in outlying farmsteads that had not received the divine missive, or had failed to heed the summons of the town crier. And so it has been for many years... "
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you didn't bring the magic lantern with you to keep you safe and the only way to get back is to run for our lives and we most likely won't make it?! What are we doing blabbing here. Tell me on the way sweetie. I don't want to be ripped apart by a mystery
T'karra (Naomi) stands back up and looks around and then covers her mouth again and says there is something whispering in my head
Skylar listens on to the explanation with focused eyes, only because she's trying hard to discern just how much of it is true and how much is b+*~!!!* her mind is making up to fill the gaps. By the time Eftichia was done, it seemed like no time at all had passed to the bulky martial artist, only because the details flew out of her head with all the adjacent thinking she was doing.
And this fleeting sense of time only further convinced her this was all a dream of some kind, right along with all the weird sights, people, and words she did not understand and assumed were made up.
"WOW, now that was one hell of a tale!" Skylar evaluated honestly, clapping to the discourse given to her by the weird people. "So what's our next step in this whole night shebang? We wait till sun sets, find whatever the hell this monster thing is and piledrive it into the ground?" Asks Skylar, naturally leaning towards just going along for the ride this dream takes her.
Alice listens as the others talk, her mind noting details of diction and tone. She's always enjoyed waking slowly to the sounds of the telly, trying to piece together what her girlfriend is watching, but something is off. This is the weirdest anime she's ever heard, and more importantly Thomas, her cat, isn't yowling her awake. She stretches, her hands roving above her head looking for the pillow. Finding cold stone instead, she freezes, then slowly tries to push herself upright. The complicated robes tangle in her hands, the weight of the armor unnoticed till now, and she freezes. Her body is wrong, taller, fitter, younger, oddly proportioned to what she expects.
"I.."
The voice is the final bit of wrongness, light and sweet. She is a child again, and now the words won't come, her mind overwhelmed by the rushing feelings, an eternity of grief and strangeness warring within the moment. Eventually, she breathes in slowly and evenly, and then out.
"I would appreciate some answers, and assistance. What, no why, am I wearing this...dancewear, regalia, armor?" She gestures to her accoutrements with some concern and looks up. As she looks around her words trail off again, and she gawks. A minute passes thus and finally she continues, softly.
"We're far from home, aren't we?"
you didn't bring the magic lantern with you to keep you safe and the only way to get back is to run for our lives and we most likely won't make it?! What are we doing blabbing here. Tell me on the way sweetie. I don't want to be ripped apart by a mystery
T'karra (Naomi) stands back up and looks around and then covers her mouth again and says there is something whispering in my head
Efti nods at Naomi, "Mistress T'karra, or whatever I should call you now -- the everlanterns aren't exactly easily portable. Each weighs over a ton -- the vessel in which we arrived at these ruins, the Dawnlight's Glistening, was built around an everlantern. The artifact is the central structural element of the ship, and is as large as a small house."
Skylar listens on to the explanation with focused eyes, only because she's trying hard to discern just how much of it is true and how much is b~+&@!%$ her mind is making up to fill the gaps. By the time Eftichia was done, it seemed like no time at all had passed to the bulky martial artist, only because the details flew out of her head with all the adjacent thinking she was doing.
And this fleeting sense of time only further convinced her this was all a dream of some kind, right along with all the weird sights, people, and words she did not understand and assumed were made up.
"WOW, now that was one hell of a tale!" Skylar evaluated honestly, clapping to the discourse given to her by the weird people. "So what's our next step in this whole night shebang? We wait till sun sets, find whatever the hell this monster thing is and piledrive it into the ground?" Asks Skylar, naturally leaning towards just going along for the ride this dream takes her.
Efti turns to Skylar, "Mistress Xestris -- or whatever your name on Earth was -- as I was just conferring with Master Ustrin, we have two paths before us. Either we find our way out of the shrine and back to the safety of the Dawnlight's Glistening, or we can try to find a safe campsite within the shrine. Luckily, unlike the darkened obelisk far below the shrine, the offering rooms of this complex are blessed with a continuous source of illumination from their lava pools. The night terrors, whatever they are, are driven off by light -- as long as we can stay within the embrace of a light source of some sort, we will be safe. The issue is ensuring the continuity of a light source -- which the everlanterns of swift-footed Mercury are exceptional if offering -- they can be adjusted to several hundred or even thousands of feet in diameter. They are how we maintain safe settlments on the Island of Rassom in the wake of the Typhoon Struggle."
Alice listens as the others talk, her mind noting details of diction and tone. She's always enjoyed waking slowly to the sounds of the telly, trying to piece together what her girlfriend is watching, but something is off. This is the weirdest anime she's ever heard, and more importantly Thomas, her cat, isn't yowling her awake. She stretches, her hands roving above her head looking for the pillow. Finding cold stone instead, she freezes, then slowly tries to push herself upright. The complicated robes tangle in her hands, the weight of the armor unnoticed till now, and she freezes. Her body is wrong, taller, fitter, younger, oddly proportioned to what she expects.
"I.."
The voice is the final bit of wrongness, light and sweet. She is a child again, and now the words won't come, her mind overwhelmed by the rushing feelings, an eternity of grief and strangeness warring within the moment. Eventually, she breathes in slowly and evenly, and then out.
"I would appreciate some answers, and assistance. What, no why, am I wearing this...dancewear, regalia, armor?" She gestures to her accoutrements with some concern and looks up. As she looks around her words trail off again, and she gawks. A minute passes thus and finally she continues, softly.
"We're far from home, aren't we?"
Efti turns towards Alice, "Mistress Lasciel, or whatever your name on Earth was, I am sure you shall inform me shortly, you are wearing the garments of Lasciel en Alassandra di Marat when she was overwhelmed by the mysterious phenomenon of transposition which seems to occur in the vicinity of monoliths similar to that which descends deep into the earth below us, and which I believe to be a product of the ancient species known as the Caulosians. The gentle Lasciel en Alassandra di Marat was a member of our expedition before your present displacement into her form."
Skylar nods, only getting two things out of what was said: light drives the night terrors away, and they have to find ligh somehow. Fine by her, if anything that just means she got to do some dream-wrestling and beat up whatever nightmare is coming their way!
She did sense the distress coming from Lasciel's voice, and while she didn't exactly think it was warranted given how this would all end when she woke up, Skylar realized that dream constructs probably didn't really know that they were dreams. Kind of like how computers are clever and do all sorts of math, but don't really know that they're computers like people do.
...At least, Skylar hoped so. Terminator was a scary, scary movie.
"C'mon gal, lighten up. I know you're feeling all weird and stuff, but ya gotta think on the upsides: maybe that dress is gaudy, but you got the bod to wear it! Own it up, cheer up, and let's go on a bit of an adventure together!" Skylar said, with a naive but nevertheless genuine attempt to help a fellow party member get settled. The large, muscular woman had a pep in her step, a jovial measure in the way she shook shoulders, danced in place a bit, oblivious to the true nature of their predicament.
Bless her, the fool.
"For the record! Xestris is fine and dandy, but you can just call me Skylar. Whoever was here before ain't here anymore, so we're gonna be rebranding a bit even if the looks are the same!" Gleefully introducing herself to everyone, Skylar even shot a finger gun here, a flex there, flairs to make sure she tested out her dream body some. Presentation and a warm-up, tied into one.
Lord Silkenleak looked at himself while the other discussed the next course of action. he was wearing the finest robes and cloth he's ever seen! He reached up to feel his face with his now slender fingers.
Wow! So thin! Lord Silkenleaf thought, feeling his face. Oof! Is that? Wow! You could cut a steak with that jawline.
The noble reached further the sides of his face..to realize his ears didn't stop where they normally stop. I-I'm an elf. I must be, Lord Silkenleaf thought.
Looking over to the others, the noble thought, I must be. There's a drow right there. Hmm. Not bad looking either. Most of my fellow..what, travelers are beautiful women. Damn. 'Dear Penthouse'..
"Well then", Lord Silkenleaf spoke up out of his reverie. "It appears Time is of the Essence. I think we should all get moving and find that defensable location. Agreed?"
"Yes no matter where we are the priorities are the same. Thank you for the reminder. Safety, fresh air, shelter, water, food, then finally questions. Panic can happen later, once we're safe. This is just like a camping trip, somewhere with lava and friendly otterfolk."
Alice doesn't sound too convinced, but she's trying. She stands taller, and then trips over the backpack before standing up again and looking it over.
"I suppose I should carry this then." She lifts the pack, surprised at the ease at which it comes to hand, and shifts herself about a bit, finding the hood of her cloak, she tucks it up and over her elaborately pinned hair and smooths her fingers along the fabric, marveling at how soft it is.
"I don't think I'll be settled until I know how we're going home, but I can walk. Which way?"
"So I'm a Man, who has something that talks to him telepathically. I was mentally transported into this body with what seems to be strange powers and strange" Jennifer paused as she(he) took in the others. She was older and could feel it. Not quite middle-aged but close.
" Strange peoples. I assume you all have other things. Like Magic? Are we magical? I assume I might be with the whole talking voice in my head?" Almost on queue the pinky-length crystal that sat on the Turban began to move like a spider carrying to rest on Azerwals' shoulder.
[I]"I am more than a disembodied voice, I am your Psicrystal. A foci and companion you embued with a sliver of your consciousness. As for the magic, you are close, our set is more mental manipulation of well energies which we then use to make a variety of wonderful and strange powers. If you would like I can assist you in any other sort of knowledge.I was once apart of you"[/l] The crystal said as its' lavender hue shone in the light.
"Well that is something else, a Walking, talking crystal...I think I need to lie down again" Azrwal said the gruff voice seemingly speaking what should be the inflections of a college woman not a Middle Aged man with face tattoos.
"Yes no matter where we are the priorities are the same. Thank you for the reminder. Safety, fresh air, shelter, water, food, then finally questions. Panic can happen later, once we're safe. This is just like a camping trip, somewhere with lava and friendly otterfolk."
Alice doesn't sound too convinced, but she's trying. She stands taller, and then trips over the backpack before standing up again and looking it over.
"I suppose I should carry this then." She lifts the pack, surprised at the ease at which it comes to hand, and shifts herself about a bit, finding the hood of her cloak, she tucks it up and over her elaborately pinned hair and smooths her fingers along the fabric, marveling at how soft it is.
"I don't think I'll be settled until I know how we're going home, but I can walk. Which way?"
Efti frowns,
"Well, Mistress Lasciel, that's precisely our predicament -- as I was just conferring with Master Ustrin."
She points one direction, which seems to lead up, and another down,
"It's one of these two ways, but I'm not sure which one -- we got rather turned around during our exploration of the complex."
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it seems I have a telepathic thing taking to me as well that is none to happy to be taki to me instead of T'karra and doesn't like this one bit. Since I can feel this both physically and mentally and I don't want to know I being ripped apart will hurt the other me I would like to be moving the best we can.T'karra says
it seems I have a telepathic thing taking to me as well that is none to happy to be taki to me instead of T'karra and doesn't like this one bit. Since I can feel this both physically and mentally and I don't want to know I being ripped apart will hurt the other me I would like to be moving the best we can.T'karra says
As T'Karra finishes speaking, the ground begins to shudder noticeably,
"Mother of Mercies," exclaims Efti, "that's been happening intermittently all day I'm afraid, and it's been only been getting more frequent and intense."
She turns again towards the yellow-skinned man she calls "Master Urstin,'
"So, which way do we go then? Up or down?"
Urstin frowns with deep concentration, looking again up and down the corridor. After a pregnant moment, he nods and points downwards,
"I'm almost certain that's the way, come along."
"Still not sure why this happened but if I have to I will fight to see me either returned home in my body or see this body transformed into what my old one resembled" Awerzal says as instinct made the body grip the spear and push himself up to stand.
Strangely the weight was incredibly dense despite the layers of robes. As Jennifer combed the mind of her predecessor she found this body had various blades hidden on there person.
Alice, no Lasciel, walks along smoothly. This body, her body, is a marvel of fitness. It does not tire, nor does it struggle to carry the pack, every stride is graceful and practiced. The motion precise, it is unnerving, at first but she adjusts quickly enough. After all, talking otters are very convincing. Truthfully, everything seems almost too light, almost uncomfortably breezy, but Alice, Lasciel, is determinedly not thinking about that either.
”Please, while we walk, if we might learn more of who we were, are? We, I, obviously have roles within the expedition, and knowing more of what is expected might help distract, I mean, center our new selves. I hate, I suppose hated, team building as much as anyone, but clearly we were, are, a team.”
The speech is stumbling but earnest.
Lord Azanoril Silkenleaf (Oof. That's a mouth-full.) pick up the finely-made backpack at his feet, then slipping it on; adjusting to the change in gravity. The elf found underneath the backpack a finely made wooden cane with a metal handle. The nobleman instinctively twists the handle, where it releases from the rest of the cane to become a sword.
Huh. A sword cane. Very pimp.
"Sounds about right, Well I am in a man of his middling years, hard bodied, grizzled and apparently good at manipulation energy with my mind, to so the little Telepathic Crystal spider tells me anyway." Jennifer Says as she seemed to feel herself comfortable standing gripping the spear.
"Oh and apparently a fan of blades, this outfit hides more then what is shown." he says gesturing to the many hilts that can be seen.
"Not sure what that means, and until I get a mirror I can't tell you weather I am handsome or not. I doubt it though, probably one of the regulars who never tipped kinda face" was all she said the last as an obvious afterthought.
"Still not sure why this happened but if I have to I will fight to see me either returned home in my body or see this body transformed into what my old one resembled" Awerzal says as instinct made the body grip the spear and push himself up to stand.
Strangely the weight was incredibly dense despite the layers of robes. As Jennifer combed the mind of her predecessor she found this body had various blades hidden on there person.
Alice, no Lasciel, walks along smoothly. This body, her body, is a marvel of fitness. It does not tire, nor does it struggle to carry the pack, every stride is graceful and practiced. The motion precise, it is unnerving, at first but she adjusts quickly enough. After all, talking otters are very convincing. Truthfully, everything seems almost too light, almost uncomfortably breezy, but Alice, Lasciel, is determinedly not thinking about that either.
”Please, while we walk, if we might learn more of who we were, are? We, I, obviously have roles within the expedition, and knowing more of what is expected might help distract, I mean, center our new selves. I hate, I suppose hated, team building as much as anyone, but clearly we were, are, a team.”
The speech is stumbling but earnest.
Efti takes a deep breath, almost like a sigh,
"Well, where shall I begin? The Typhoon Struggle concluded a little less than a generation ago -- the malign powers of the Sanguine Storm were confined to their degenerate mirrors of the True Elemental Strongholds by the sacrifice of many gods to erect the divine shield known as the Shroud between our world and the worlds of the gods and goddesses. This also severed the inhabitants of this world -- which is known as Suta'ra, among other names, from the afterlife. The Island of Rasoom is a small atol in a vast ocean between the continent of Seradina, which lies to the north, and that of Ibassuron, which lies to the south. We rarely receive visitors anymore, and even the outlying settlements on the shore are infrequently contacted - this expedition was composed of the inhabitants of the village of Amelitkayek, which lies within the protective embrace of an encircling mountain chain; however, we recently received a delegation of travelers from the outside world that managed to ford the dangers of the tunnels that connect Amelitkayek with the coastal settlements of Tastin and Shorpurh. All of the bodies that have been exposed to the transference were foreigners to us that agreed to join the expedition to scout the surrounding islands -- they were all, from what I understand, explorers from their respective lands."
"Sounds about right, Well I am in a man of his middling years, hard bodied, grizzled and apparently good at manipulation energy with my mind, to so the little Telepathic Crystal spider tells me anyway." Jennifer Says as she seemed to feel herself comfortable standing gripping the spear.
"Oh and apparently a fan of blades, this outfit hides more then what is shown." he says gesturing to the many hilts that can be seen.
"Not sure what that means, and until I get a mirror I can't tell you weather I am handsome or not. I doubt it though, probably one of the regulars who never tipped kinda face" was all she said the last as an obvious afterthought.
Efti points at Jennifer,
"The name of your body was Azerawl, and I am aware that you were a native of the southern continent of Ibassuron. No natives of the Island of Rasoom have visited this locale in many hundreds of years. It was a site of major conflict during the millennia of the Typhoon Struggle, and, from what I understood from the mind that once inhabited this body, was occupied by a number of gods of the Sanguine Storm. You recall I mentioned that the Sanguine Storm was made up of dragonic deities from the false elemental strongholds. However, they are not dragons in truth -- we refer to them as the Tarragon or the Tarrasques. They in most respects resemble true dragons, but are flightless reptilians with many legs the tails of scorpions, horns, and an armored carapace. However, they are filled with the fearsome powers of the false elements, and their lords, for they are a race of such entities, are the gods of the Sanguine Storm. The Tarragon Lords of Flame, Dust, Sand, Ash, Lava, and other false elements conquered the south of Ibassuron, and oppressed the native Azer, Fire Newts, and the human tribes of the wastes, among other peoples. Their rule was ended by the imposition of the Shroud, but the servants of the Tarragon, the flame wizards known as the Maguseans, have persisted beyond the banishment of their masters. I believe Azerwal had been sent by his tribe to seek the truth of an ancient legend about a force that could squelch the Black Flame that provides the Maguseans with their continued powers, and which may in time provide the means of their summoning their dark gods once again to Surta'ra."
Lord Azanoril Silkenleaf (Oof. That's a mouth-full.) pick up the finely-made backpack at his feet, then slipping it on; adjusting to the change in gravity. The elf found underneath the backpack a finely made wooden cane with a metal handle. The nobleman instinctively twists the handle, where it releases from the rest of the cane to become a sword.
Huh. A sword cane. Very pimp.
Efti points at the elf lord,
"Your body was that of Azanoril Silkenleaf, an elven lord from the lands of Seradina, far to the north of the Island of Rasoom. From what he conveyed to me, Lord Silkenleaf was a lord of an elven kingdom that had been conquered during Kralizec, the Typhoon Struggle, by a Tarragon Lord of Thorn, and their forest home was still despoiled by the remnant of this evil deity's works when the goddess was banished by the imposition of the Shroud by the sacrifice of many gods, including swift-footed Mercury, the maker of my people. Lord Silkenleaf sought the means to lift the Curse of Thorns which had been placed upon his once resplendent forest home."
Alice, no Lasciel, walks along smoothly. This body, her body, is a marvel of fitness. It does not tire, nor does it struggle to carry the pack, every stride is graceful and practiced. The motion precise, it is unnerving, at first but she adjusts quickly enough. After all, talking otters are very convincing. Truthfully, everything seems almost too light, almost uncomfortably breezy, but Alice, Lasciel, is determinedly not thinking about that either.
”Please, while we walk, if we might learn more of who we were, are? We, I, obviously have roles within the expedition, and knowing more of what is expected might help distract, I mean, center our new selves. I hate, I suppose hated, team building as much as anyone, but clearly we were, are, a team.”
The speech is stumbling but earnest.
Efti points at Alice,
"Your body was formerly the dwelling place of Lasciel en Alassandra di Marat, a priestess from the southern climes of Ibassuron -- her peoples were city-dwellers, while Azerwal's were nomads of the plateaus of the Red Desert, which lies in the heart of the continent. The Lady Lasciel was a priestess of the Divine Trinity of Isis, Osiris, Horus, gods of the Duat who survived the Typhoon Struggle and continue to provide guidance and powers to their worshippers, even though Anubis can no longer guide them to the realm beyond as long as the divine barrier of the Shroud stands, protecting Surta'ra from the predations of the Tarragons and their infinite hordes of corrupted elementals."
"The Lady Lasciel told me that she came from a port city known as Ahmun-Khaas, and was driven hither by a vision she received from her divine patrons. This vision also led her to join with Azerwal on their journey northward, across the seas."
Alice stops abruptly.
"Wait, I know those names. Isis, Osiris, Horus, Anubis. They were worshiped thousands of years ago on earth." She looks around then walks quickly to catch up, spacing her questions widely as she muses on what's been said. The walk, continues.
"Goddess and dragons are real? What else? Was there also a carp and a water gate? Or perhaps a lotus bloom and phoenix? If so, our Earthen Mythology is apparently going to become very relevant quite soon. When we reach a likely camp I suspect we might want to spend some time taking notes. I barely remember what our scholars had learned of the rites of the Egyptian trinity. Most of what we had was funereal, although I do recall their antagonist who I shall not name."
Alice stops abruptly.
"Wait, I know those names. Isis, Osiris, Horus, Anubis. They were worshiped thousands of years ago on earth." She looks around then walks quickly to catch up, spacing her questions widely as she muses on what's been said. The walk, continues.
"Goddess and dragons are real? What else? Was there also a carp and a water gate? Or perhaps a lotus bloom and phoenix? If so, our Earthen Mythology is apparently going to become very relevant quite soon. When we reach a likely camp I suspect we might want to spend some time taking notes. I barely remember what our scholars had learned of the rites of the Egyptian trinity. Most of what we had was funereal, although I do recall their antagonist who I shall not name."
Efti nods, "So I have deduced from other individuals from our world who have been subjected to... well, whatever it is that happened to you. The gods of the land that you know as 'Egypt' or 'Khemit' are known in Surta'ra as the Gods of the Duat, and are one of the few pantheons to have survived the Typhoon Struggle. They are most prominent among the lands of which we presently have knowledge in the southern regions of Ibassuron, as well as the a desert realm known as the Pharaharmium of Sulgriss, but they have spread their influence since the imposition of the Shroud. The mysteries of the Duat, including the Mysteries of Isis and Osiris, compete for the same worshippers as the Cabals of the Gnostics -- sects of contemplatives who have learned to channel divine magic without the aid of the gods that arose in the wake of the death of most of our worlds deities."
tell me what you knew of T'karra then? Naomi says with the much more alto voice then her own.
Efti frowns in concentration -- "Well, the dark elves are an interesting case. Since an ancient age, long since past, most of their number have become an aquatic species. Before the Typhoon Struggle, they were servants of the deities Pluto and Persephone and Hecate, as well as many titans such as Scylla and Charybdis, and the herald of the underworld -- Cerberus, which some theologians understood as an aspect of Anubis. They were isolated in their struggle against the immense forces of the Tarragons during the Kralizec. Several of their arcologies held back tides of invaders for generations, but most succumbed and transformed into tarrasquespawn, mutated slaves of the Tarragons. However, a small number did not descend into the depths during their ancient was with the Solar Elves. These continued to live in isolated settlements in the underrealms of the continent of Seradina, which, as I have mentioned in my comments to Lord Azanoril, lies to the north of the Island of Rasoom. There, they struggled against the villainous deep gnomes, servants of a blind mole god known as Urdlen, who are amongst the most powerful nations of the deep earth. The dark elves of whom I am aware are servants of ancient deities in the shape of bats and scorpions and snakes -- T'Karra was wary of disclosing much about the nature of her community, but I believe she may have been sent to explore the outside world, or on an important mission of some sort. She posed as a simple herbalist and alchemical merchant, though I believe there may have been more to her mission, which we may yet, with the availing grace of the Fates that Guide All, uncover in good time."
Alice's fingers itch to go through her new body's belongings, but for now she just catalogues what she is wearing, slowly as she muses on the entire idea of multiple universes, transferring consciousness, and a pantheon of gods that in winning...lost. Eventually she replies to Efti.
"I admit I'm somewhat taken aback at the Struggle as you describe it. This Shroud, you speak as if it were both a physical and a magical thing, cutting a world off from others. Did your people travel the stars then? Is there a barrier now? Our earth posited many things about the Universe that we could observe only indirectly, and I admit the gods were one of them. We had no test we could devise to verify their existence. Yet you speak as if they were solid real things, their works made manifest upon demand. How can this be?"
Meanwhile, her body glides along, almost dancing. Every step is precisely in line with the last, her balance unbroken at any moment, her head turning to peer this way and that in a habitual pattern now fueled by otherworldly curiosity.
"Oh if only I had my phone. So many things to see and record. You never miss it until suddenly it is gone, the convenient magics of a modern age." She looks at her companions, strange though they may be. "
Can you imagine how fast a tok from here would trend? Or how useful wikipedia would be?
Alice's fingers itch to go through her new body's belongings, but for now she just catalogues what she is wearing, slowly as she muses on the entire idea of multiple universes, transferring consciousness, and a pantheon of gods that in winning...lost. Eventually she replies to Efti.
"I admit I'm somewhat taken aback at the Struggle as you describe it. This Shroud, you speak as if it were both a physical and a magical thing, cutting a world off from others. Did your people travel the stars then? Is there a barrier now? Our earth posited many things about the Universe that we could observe only indirectly, and I admit the gods were one of them. We had no test we could devise to verify their existence. Yet you speak as if they were solid real things, their works made manifest upon demand. How can this be?"
Meanwhile, her body glides along, almost dancing. Every step is precisely in line with the last, her balance unbroken at any moment, her head turning to peer this way and that in a habitual pattern now fueled by otherworldly curiosity.
"Oh if only I had my phone. So many things to see and record. You never miss it until suddenly it is gone, the convenient magics of a modern age." She looks at her companions, strange though they may be. "
Can you imagine how fast a tok from here would trend? Or how useful wikipedia would be?
Efti continues with her steam of explication,
"Did we travel the stars? That's another good question -- not recently at any rate. There was an extremely distant age known as the Golden Age of Technology, of which many legends are told, including those that describe the travel of inhabitants of this world to other planets, as well as dimensions. It is difficult to know the accuracy of these claims -- this was many hundreds of thousands, even perhaps many millions of years ago. There are also stories that the first dragons came from the stars, or from a red planet."
"As to the existence of the gods -- from what I have understood of your Earth, they do not directly manifest in the same fashion as they do in our lives. Verily, I have seen and spoken with the swift-footed one before his death in the Typhoon Struggle, and many of the emissaries of the other members of the Heavenly Hosts could make a similar claim. Perhaps your world is somehow more remote from the realms of the gods, or perhaps a barrier similar to the Shroud was imposed long ago on your world -- I cannot say."
Arriving at a larger room, Alice takes a moment to look it over before responding to T'Karra.
"This is something, although what it might be we do not yet know. What did you do, in the Before?"
As she waits for the others to enter the room, she nods towards the lava.
"That is clearly constructed. Natural magma pools don't stay open like this, nor as comfortable. Something special in the materials perhaps, or just 'Magic' I suppose."
Azerwol moves on towards the lava flow and shakes his head.
"I hate this already. Let us move on, the faster we get through this the faster I can get out of this body!" Azerwal says holding onto his spear.
Seriously why this Old man. I was only 25! I was getting my life back on track, I was gonna go back to school and now some...Wait, did he get in my body! OH GOD!
Azerwal growled and the Crystal on his shoulder began to hop about and swivel its body as if looking around.
' Master I would advise caution and checking your surroundings. Reckless advancement can spell disaster'The Crystal says in Awerzal/Jennifer's mind. It wasn't a bad Idea. She would need this body whole t get back.
"Fair point" Awerzal says out loud.
Turning to the group."Anyone here skilled in scouting? Something in my mind, and I think experience or Awerzals', experience says that someone should scout ahead. SOmeone observant and capable of disarming traps."
as a famous singer from my world says a few less words and a lot more action
Naomi asks the familiar if it knows the way back to the surface in her mind.
The voice of the elemental squeaks as it replies -- there is no question that the sound is highly irritating. It reminds Naomi of a higher pitcher version of Mickey Mouse or Donald Duck,
"Hmmm... yes, Mistress, I made a rhyme to remember the way because you asked me..." the voice whimpers slightly and then launches into an astoundingly off-key rendition of its recently-imagined diddly, "this is your left, left, this is your right, left -- the right, left is left, friend. This is your left, left, the right way is left, this is your right, left, the left, right, that's you do it. This is your left, left. Now you're getting it. Left, right, left, right! Right way is left!"
Arriving at a larger room, Alice takes a moment to look it over before responding to T'Karra.
"This is something, although what it might be we do not yet know. What did you do, in the Before?"
As she waits for the others to enter the room, she nods towards the lava.
"That is clearly constructed. Natural magma pools don't stay open like this, nor as comfortable. Something special in the materials perhaps, or just 'Magic' I suppose."
Efti inhales noticeably as the group enter the room,
"Ah, see this, is what I was referring to -- this is one of the offering rooms of the shrine, where the acolytes of the Tarragon Lord Cendis-Xirgit gathered to sacrifice elementals from the Strongholds of the Pure Elements, as well as those of elemental blood from these untainted regions of the Inner Planes. There are records in the archives of my order on the Island of Rasoom about battles with the armies of this entity during the Typhoon Struggle -- I suppose this complex was one of their forward posts by which they hoped to extend their power over the Manawell on the island -- but that doesn't entirely explain the complex below this one -- did they discover it, or explore it, or want to seal it, or what....?"
Urstin interjects,
"There are no records of any sort of collusion between the armies of the Sanguine Storm and the Caulosians -- and that's even assuming the common identification of these structures is correct. They've never actually directly confirmed whether their race is responsible for them the few times anyone has had the opportunity to ask, though I admit I don't have any other likely candidates I'd like to propose. The earliest records mention them, though they shed no additional insight on the matter -- their construction, purpose, origins, exact dating. None of it, still as much a mystery to the explorers from a million or more years ago as they are to us now."
"So this is an altar, of a sorts?"
Alice steps forward, curious, but her body stops naturally and she peers at it without realizing she's stopped.
"It certainly seems to be something." She continues speaking slowly, feet rooted, turning her head sideways, glancing at the altar this way and that trying to understand. "Almost like soot? Or smoke? And cold. A cold mist?"
She takes a step back and shudders.
"This, thing, isn't right, although how I know I couldn't explain. There is" She trails off, uncomfortable.
"What do you mean? Its just Lava? It's just Lava Right?"Awerzal says. As she looks about at the other's hands to shift to tighten on the spear and shift into some sort of combative stance.
"If you wish Mastress, We can look into the various avenues of knowledge. First and foremost I suggest you concentrate and probe the area for psionic residue. Just concentrate. I shall guide you through it and hopefully, the imbedded memories will bring it up for you"
"I see okay I shall do just that" Jennifer opens up the mind of Azerwal and focuses the mind as the Crystal intrusts. Instinct seems to grasp onto it with minimal effort.
"What do you mean? Its just Lava? It's just Lava Right?"Awerzal says. As she looks about at the other's hands to shift to tighten on the spear and shift into some sort of combative stance.
"If you wish Mastress, We can look into the various avenues of knowledge. First and foremost I suggest you concentrate and probe the area for psionic residue. Just concentrate. I shall guide you through it and hopefully, the imbedded memories will bring it up for you"
"I see okay I shall do just that" Jennifer opens up the mind of Azerwal and focuses the mind as the Crystal intrusts. Instinct seems to grasp onto it with minimal effort.