It is a fine madness you weave, but a fine madness is my new name, my new purpose. "Abnaki was never abducted by inquisitors friends. That is your trauma, not my own. I have no history with Ky La, except for his death."
Hey! Sorry about the delay in getting back to you. I've had the flu these past few weeks, and things have been a bit... rough. I'm still hopped up on Dayquil most days, and the really lucid moments have been few and far between, but I'm starting to feel a bit better now. I'll see what I can do to catch up, and I'm so sorry about my absence! Abnaki's greatest fear at this point? Probably something inane. That or being forgotten.
"I like crows," Abnaki says, as if that settles the matter. "Fighting something on it's own turf... now where have won that before? We shall pluck this pesky bee from our minds, lay the nightmare bare, and parade it through the town to be mocked. Once they see how powerless it is, they will never have cause to fear of it again. Or-" he adds brightly, "If it's not powerless, it's another stepping stone towards carving a kingdom of dreams for ourselves." Abnaki turns to address the crowd. "Be not afraid citizens! You are all under our protection. We have faced far deadlier foes than a dream too cowardly to show it's face, and we're still here to tell the tales of it! In fact," he continues, "This reminds me of the time that Samen, Gabriel, and myself faced down a being that dealt only in comprehension through vivisection. Do you know how we defeated it? Well first we invited it to have a cup of tea..." Abnaki finishes his tale about meeting the Observer, making sure to emphasize the funnier parts, and skim over the very real danger of being burned to death he was in.
"A hassle to my beloved dreamers, eh?" Abnaki huffs heartily. "Well now, we can't have then. Samen, would you help me... exercise this spirit? I'm going to call to it when I go to sleep tonight, much as I once did the Dream Crow, and together we will catch and kill it."
I don't think I meant to do that, Abnaki thinks to himself. Unless I did? And he gives it no further thought.
"It's true you know," Abnaki says in mock grave tones, "I have to be very careful what I say, less it come true!" He pretends to think. "A story you say! I've got a good one for you. It's about how me and my friends helped save Hearth!" Abnaki makes little illusions to accompany his storytelling, but makes sure to cut down on some of the visceral details to less scary ones, like removing the Els that had their flesh bubble away in a great fire.
"... and after that, the Declarative herself couldn't focus on making our arrows go astray. It was teamwork that took her down, me distracting, Samen casting, and Gabriel with his fists of fury!" I got lost in dreams for a while after that, but don't worry children! Your pal Abnaki told himself a story of a path back to his own body out of dreams! He followed that path, and came back to help fight against the Gems! Rumor has it that the path I left behind is still there, as long as you go looking for it! So if you start having a scary dream, just remember to look for Abnaki's path, and you can find your way out a nightmare! I made sure to leave it there for all the good little boys and girls, so that they can always find their way out of a scary dream! Just repeat after me, "Abnaki's Avenue Allows Absolute Access Across Apparition And Actuality." It sounds a bit better in Sylvan, but let me hear you repeat it back!" After coaching them through it a couple more times, Abnaki adds, "Now you've got a nice way to walk through the scary dreams if you need an escape. Just remember it my little friends, and it'll keep you safe when the bad thoughts come in!" He gives each of them a kiss on the forehead to show to any else that walk on the road that they are under the Thrice Slain's protection.
I'm back! Things have been a bit hectic as of late, but I should be much more in line with my old posting schedule. Thank you for the patience!
What good is money when one is a living god? /s
"We have been humbled Samen." Abnaki says quietly. "We have died. I have suffered ego death. Abnaki was hubristic to think that he could martial such powers and remain as he was. Abnaki was an optimist, and so am I. I genuinely don't believe that entropy is the nature of divinity. I genuinely believe that we can lead our people through this time into a better one. And I genuinely believe that most of the current gods would stand in our way to preserve their own place in this world. To be divine is to have the power of creation. We can make this world a better place. But don't follow my path Samen." Abnaki looks very sad, "We must all stand tall in different ways to play our parts in the days to come. Mine is to be a cement pillar, a foundation that all can rest on, made of the ground remains of limestone and clay. I am the pillar, but I am also the clay. The Declarative was Limestone. I am an aggregate. Be yourself Samen. If I am to be a foundation that new buildings is to be placed upon, they will need a master architect." He sighs deeply. "I must be glib. I must be larger than life. I must be Divine. It's tiring Samen, for I am burning the candle that was Abnaki at both ends. Don't be fooled by the smiles and jokes." He pats his friend on the shoulder, and straightens his back, loudly proclaiming, "Even a God must need rest sometimes! Do you think Volcano ever tires in protecting this land from the Dark?"
"They said dies. They said weakens. But they are afeared of us Samen. I do not believe divinity is lost. It merely changes hands. And the Old Gods are jealous, senile, old things that resent the changing of the new order. They resent other divinities other than themselves. The Dead Witch was not always dead, killed by a jealous other. And as moon weakens, I grow in strength. Perhaps not to the same degree, not yet, but I do not see a zenith in sight yet, dear Samen. I think the Gods themselves are afraid of each other, yes, but also afraid of us. Entropy has not won yet."
"You carry the herald of an older god in your Tea Kettle. Ask it what happened to Sun. Ask where it's power went, if it was lost to the void, or if it became part of something else. And ask it if Sun might live again. I will be something new. You do not have to worship me, but you will learn to recognize me."
It takes Wamblee a moment to take in your glib summary of world-changing events. He simply says, "Besides the salamanders, you mean? Well, my son is due to be born in two months. I hope to show him a better world than the one we have at present." "Oh how wonderful! There's a magic I could never hope to achieve." He ponders to himself for a moment. "Or perhaps I could? I have heard stories of gods giving birth to six legged horses... Best not to dwell on it."
"Thanks to us, not as bad as they could have been. Thanks to me specifically, Wamblee made it." Abnaki ignores the crack about godhood, or at least seems to. [b]"Ky-La is dead and dusted, most likely for good this time, and Samen got some new spectacles out of it. Gabe's a human now, whatever that means, we unmade another of Moon's great servitors, and the Sun-Lord that lives in the kettle learned a little humility. So what's new with you?"
Abnaki nods. "As you say, so it shall be."
"This was a foolish and impudent action. Spend some time to reflect on your mistake." Abnaki moves and then casts through his persistent metamagic rod Persistent Torture Boosted Barrier.
Abnaki looks pleased with himself.
Greater Angelic Aspect... Holy s#&#, I want one!
"If you want to repay us," Abnaki says to a librarian, "Try and look up how to pull a soul out of dreams for my friend over there. I'm sure we'll be back to pick it up some time."
"Always tell us a story Abnaki," he laments, "And what do I get out of it? I give and give parts of myself, and what do I get in return?" He brightens. "That's the story I shall tell! That of The Eldest Tree and the First Five Words! The way I'm going to tell it to you now though is not the way I learned it, so long ago. But it is true." He begins to intone. "A very long time ago, when the ground was still new, and the sky still shone, there was an Oread. Now this Oread was also a tree, because in those days lots of people were also different things. Or perhaps more precisely lots of different things were also people. And this Oread was filled with love, for all of Elenity, and he sang that love to the other spirits like him, like birdsong, and it was good. "One day, he realized that although the Els listened to his song, they did not know what he meant. This made the Oread very sad, and so he might reach the people, and be able to share his love and knowledge with them, he decided he would give meaning to the grunts that they made, so that they might be able to ask him for things, and he might be able to give advice." "The Oread wandered amongst the people to see what they needed the most. He saw that the races were divided, and it saddened him to see the little children fight amongst themselves. So he brought them to a place where sky, mountain, fire, and water met, and taught them the first word: Compassion. He came forth with a giant blade, and his wrath was so mighty and terrible, that the Els cowered before him. He rent sea and sky asunder with his fury, and just when the Els thought they would surely be destroyed, he stopped, and gave each of them a piece of food instead. In that manner, the Els saw themselves reflected in the wrath of the Oread, and resolved to change their ways." "It helped, for a time, the Els had a word to describe their feelings of love towards each other. It didn't stop all the fighting, but there was an understanding that every race had a role to play, a great part in the cosmic order. And it was good." The Oread decided to walk amongst the Els again, to see what they needed, and what he saw dismayed them. Although they were now less violently inclined towards each other, they still had no organization. Every El merely did as they pleased, without thought for the future. And so he gave them a second word: Wisdom. He played a great fool, darting about with not a care in the world, often injuring himself or others in the process. His injuries brought him to the verge of death, and when winter came, it was trying for him to survive. The Els saw their ignorance and guilelessness reflected in the face of the Oread, and once again resolved to change their ways." "It helped, for a time. The Els had a word to describe learning, growth brought of age, and started to form little groups around leaders. There was still foolishness of course, there always will be. But they began to stockpile during the harvest for the winter, instead of feasting right then and there." "The Oread had given his compassion to the Els, yet he still loved them. He had given his wisdom to them, sacrificed his dignity, but he still was wise. Still, the toll that it had taken upon him was why he did what he did next." "Then the Oread noticed that the Els identities had begun to melt. He had given them good words, it was true, but their compassion, and interest in philosophy had begun to subsume them, sapping their individuality. The Oread did not want this. And so he gave them the third word: Self. He took off his own skin, and cut it into ribbons, to wrap around the Els and to separate their insides from everyone else's." "It helped, for a time. The Els were less close than they had been, but they were more whole, capable of acting without others. There were still those of course, who needed the perception of others to feel whole, but they were less." "The Oread, on the other hand, was suffering greatly. He had given his skin, and now he could not feel anything but the biting cold wind on his exposed flesh, and the love he still had for Els. They were so much more than they had been, and yet he was so much less. And he still wasn't done." "This time, the Els came to him. They were wise, and compassionate, and had a sense of self, but they still needed more. They needed his fourth word to quench the burning fires that still lasted within them, they needed Knowledge. And so the Oread took out his brain, and mixed it with a powder formed from his dreams, and turned it to a poultice that the Els could put on their burning need to know, and might then be satisfied." "It helped, for a time. The Els were able to imagine mechanisms to further aid their wisdoms. They were able to teach themselves magics to aid even further. They were able to dream of fantastical and wonderful things that would one day allow Elenity to become the greatest, most versatile, most enduring." "The Oread on the other hand, had nothing left but his love for the Els, burning bright and hot where his dreams used to be, filling the empty chasm of his mind. He was cold, and foolish, and wasn't even sure exactly who he was anymore. He could feel nothing but the twin dichotomous agony-ecstasies of the cold-hot in body-mind." "It is then that he taught the Els the final word. In this state, The Oread loved them dearly. It is a matter of debate what the final word was. Common consensus is that he brought the word Death to the Els. This is not true. Dear listener, I will tell you know what the fifth and final word that he brought to the Els was. It was Fear. The Oread, although it was not right to call him the Oread any longer, for he had shed that form to reveal his true skinless mindless self, brought with him a great terror to the Els, for his love for them had consumed him, and left nothing left. And where he went, he left trails of nothing in his wake and the Els were rightfully afeared. Those who saw him and were not taken were left with a slightly different word. Awe." "It helped, for a time. The Els were brought together, under the fear and awe that the Oread brought with him. They huddled together for warmth, and wailed, and prayed, and reveled. But time makes fools of us all, and over time the impact of the words he had given the Els were forgotten. They began to squabble more, think less. They began to attempt to break down the barriers governing self, and seek knowledge at the cost of their compassion. Perhaps worst of all, some forgot the meaning of fear and awe, whereas others were devoured by it." "And what of the Oread? The Skinless, Mindless, God still loves Els. It loves me, and you, and all the little children. And where it walks, devastation follows in it's wake." Abnaki lowers his arms, which had been frantically animate throughout the story. "A metaphor for my condition? Life imatating art? Echoes of a Not-Quite-Dead-God? I don't know. Nor do I want to." He allows himself a single tear to fall down his cheek. "I do still love Els very much. I want to help them. In fact that's all I can feel anymore.
"I... I do not know. I know that I love you all, and I even remember our adventures together, but it's more... the memory of an emotion? Things have seemed so strange lately." Abnaki sags as he speaks, no longer holding himself high. "We've been through so much together, haven't we? I would see it through to the end. And... I think I would see you happy at the end of it all, were it in my power." There is a quiet moment, maybe two, before he straightens, readjusting the circlet upon his head. He smiles, but it is the grin of a cat who has gotten into the cream. "We'll do our job. And then we'll go back and put things right. Perhaps after this chapter. Do you think she'll recognize you? No one would recognize me, not even-" He cuts himself off, and then looks confused, "Like who? You're the only one of us who ever had a romantic entanglement of any kind, right? Oh this will bother me all day now! Was it Osna? Or perhaps Gabe? It's like a bee in my head. Like a song! Ugh, how irritating. Let's just go bring those librarians back to life, and maybe I can forget about that itch..."
"So!" Abnaki says chipperly as he rises out of the floor next to Samen, "While we're here, shall we try and make right the mistakes you made of yesteryear? Poor Abbygailwy, cut tragically short, beyond even your reach as you are now... But not beyond the two of us together. Time flows differently in Dreams, and if we search far enough in them, we may find enough of her soul to draw the rest of it back to the new form you craft for her." He examines his fingernails idly. "It is as you say, changing balance of desires. For me, I just want to see if we could do it. For you, it would be undoing one of your earliest evils." He leans in close to Samen. "Don't you want to be fully cleansed? If ever there was a time to try, it would be now, in this place of knowledge and locus of power..."
"I merely meant to say that I think Samen could solve the issue of the dead librarians. Our Cleansed friend here is well on the way to actually bringing back his dead lady love, although I suspect it'll take more than what he can do alone. With my aid though, who knows? Would you be interested in trying?" Thinking more on Serv's words he sits in front of the strange creature. "Everyone is a character, Serv. Everyone dances on strings. Even me. Especially me. Slaves to our own passions. Slaves to our desires, and whims. Slaves to emotion. Those are your new puppet-masters little construct, and in time you may find them to be far more damning than your old ones." Abnaki stands, not even bothering to think a single thought about when he was something other than what he is now. "Now in regards to whose book it is," he says brightly, and in stark contrast to his previously morose tone, "If it has to be someone's, why shouldn't it be mine? If you'd have preferred it to be Ky-La's, the time to say so has passed."
Abnaki gives Samen a sly, knowing look. "Also fixable, no?"
My goodness! I had not realized we were part of something so monumental. Let me congratulate you on such a well constructed narrative, and thank you for the opportunity to play in it! Abnaki is one of my most entertaining characters to play, and certainly my favorite in the PbP format! I was very lucky to be called in as a replacement! :)
"Stylish," Abnaki remarks dryly. He brings a hand to his mouth as he yawns loudly. The yawn sticks to his hand, and flies off as he shakes his appendage, like one might shake droplets of water off. The yawn flies off of him in a 60ft line that deals sonic damage, DC 18 fort save for half, if save is failed staggered for 1rd, that hits the bigger Gabe clone and the mirror. He will then spend his move action to lounge excessively.
I miss Phon Voss...
"Idiots. We feed you, and this is how you repay us? No more healing potions." Abnaki starts his performance as a move action , and as a standard action casts Simple Order on the undamaged Salamander, "H̷̳͎̘͋̇́a̴̱̥̅̌l̸̜͍̫̀͠t̶͖̩̜̄͠!"
Once again just here to support Miner Cotren as the best GM I've had the pleasure of working with! If it wouldn't be too greedy of me to take a second spot in one of their campaigns I'd totally apply here too!
"I will have you know," Abnaki states with mock offended airs, "That I have never looted anything in my life. Taken rightful spoils perhaps, but looted? Nothing so crass." He crosses his arms, "No, we are here on a mission of liberation!" He blinks for a second, "Did you say more parasites?"
Oop, did Abnaki talk a herald into killing itself? That was not my intention...
"I claim this land on behalf of the fey kingdom that I represent. My banner that I hold in my hand flies highest, higher than any other standard in this region. And as the leader of my own kingdom, and thusforth the ruler of this land, I give right of passage, unobstructed and unseen to any enemies that may tresspass on my domain." Abnaki lifts his banner high, then plants it into the ground. "There. That's done." He picks it back up again, and continues along the path.
Dotting in!
Looms ominously...
Letter to Gethis:
"Dear Ms. Cheme, I do not know the exact nature of the relationship that we once had. I can suspect, or infer, but considering the delicateness of my own mind right now... well best left unsaid. What I do know is that something about you is distracting to myself. I strain to remember something, anything, and yet I still end with nothing. The Abnaki that you knew is gone. Dead really. I am but a figment of an insane mind, dreaming that it is sane. Once these letters are written, I suspect I shall wink out entirely. I beg of you, stay clear of the thing that wears my name. It is far more capricious than I ever was, and far more likely to bend minds for it's own gain or amusement. From what I have re-gathered, you are a formidable warrior and thinker in your own right. I suspect that this warning will only serve to irritate. Please do not bring yourself to this trickster's notice, at least overtly. The me that is not quite me can be very persuasive and insidious. It has already carved out a kingdom for itself in the fey, and seeks to do the same in the land of dreams. Once I wished to do the same. I suspect I would have liked to bring you with me. Do NOT go with me if I invite you. Please take care of yourself. Samen and Ozna told me you were good people. Stay that way if you can. Sincerely, -- A dream of a ghost. Abnaki v'Cardi" Letter to Abnaki's Parents:
"Dearest Mother and Father, If this note should find you, I have unfortunately passed away. I wrote this letter before Moonfall occurred so that I might speak with you one more time. I have a plan to rescue a good many Els from the clutches of Moon, but it will take a lot out of me. Thank you for always being there for me, encouraging me to learn magic, encouraging my stories as a child. They have brought countless others peace in this unending war. We will walk together again someday, in a place where no troubles will come to us. Tell Rost v'Dtrani that I thought of him. Love, your son, -- Abnaki" Letter to Samen: "Samen, You are perhaps my closest and only friend at this point. You who have gone through as many and as dramatic of changes as I have. Yours have been for the better however, whereas I am afraid many of mine have been for the worse. I am losing myself, and plan on surrendering. Being a distraction in the back of my own mind only slows me down in crucial situations, and I suspect I can still provide a good bit of assistance before... well I'll get to that, but I can still be of aid to the team. To help, I need to be at top form, and to be at top form I need to let myself go. Thank you for everything you have done for me my friend. I am sorry to put this on you, but I have a last few favors to ask of you. If you see Ozna again, tell him what became of me. That is first and least important. The second is that if I ever stop being more helpful than harmful you have to put me down. As I lose Elenity, I can see the viewpoint of Moon looming in my own horizon. People are not just useful tools, minds should not be violated just for fun. If- when I go down that path, please put my soul to rest. I know you can do it. Thank you again for everything my friend. I was always proud to serve beside you. You were always too hard on your old self, try to take care of your new self. -- The Conscience of Abnaki v'Cardi."
Abnaki starts to take a look at the book that was presented, but the mycos runs off too quickly. He shrugs, and the thought is lost. After a few minutes, he sniffs the air, and states to anyone within earshot, "It smells like sadness in here. And the stagnant dreams of dead people. Not a nice smell." To alleviate this phantom scent that seems to be troubling him, he begins to tell himself a story about a hero who sacrificed their self for the power to save others, but for whatever reason that doesn't rinse the smell away. "Hmm. What good is being a Lord if you have to make unpleasant odors go away yourself?" he remarks to the air. Then that thought gone too, replaced by a passing bird, or maybe it was a leaf, or perhaps just the memory of a leaf that had dreamed it was a bird that had passed by this area 100 years ago, or... what had he been thinking of again? Something about a leaf and a smell? Tea? He'd seen Samen carrying a kettle around. Perhaps he'd borrow it to make himself some tea.
First the dust starts to roll towards a center point. Then sand. It starts slowly, then builds up in speed. A hand made of debris reaches out of the ground, and starts to haul the rest of itself out of the solid earth. A flower rips from a hanging vine, and by the time it lands on the hand, it is flesh. A sweet scent fills the clearing. Abnaki rises from the earth, made of dust, and sand, and madness, and dreams, holding a chest left on the ground in one hand. He smiles, and takes a seat on the ground opening the chest. "Hello everyone," he says as he begins taking things out of the chest, "How long was I gone this time?"
I'm back! My goodness what a long and exciting summer! Barely had wifi for large parts of it. I look forward to catching up on these posts. Hopefully you guys'll take me back!
Ah, it's not that bad. It's basically a LARP/STEM themed summer camp, so I get to have fun. Looking to get into teaching myself actually, fingers crossed on the masters programs I applied to!
"Always time for a bit of fun," Jack concedes. "Tell me, what did you have in mind?" Jack says with a rakish grin. Obviously Calliope was testing him on how he usually hunted. No disciplines to help out in the initiation phase. "If you're thinking what I'm thinking, there's no need for lots of words, is there?" He takes a hand in his own from both Drew and Christie, before whispering, "Lot's of quiet spaces in places like this. Hidden spots where no one pays that much attention. It adds some extra thrill to the whole experiance, being in public. You game?"
He knows he's been charming here. Getting to his feet, but still holding their hands, he gestures at Katy-lliope. "Katy here as well as I would love to get to know you more intimately. Follow me."
"You've done well Arrius. Now let me take your place so that you might heal up." Targis charges, drawing his halberd, and firing off a mighty overhead chop.
Edge alignment? Perfect. Berserker drugs? Operating at peak capacity. Bisection? Imminent.
Abnaki suddenly wishes he was blind again...
"Ah Mr. Opal, which of us tried to catch the sun in our hands? You're certainly the one glittering brightest now, and I have no intention of letting you go." Abnaki is smug, confident, and barely the same El that had gone to visit the Quiet Elder all that time ago. Still, he remembers the threat vividly, and wouldn't miss the opportunity to rub some salt in the wound. "It's funny," he muses, "If you weren't such a slimy S.O.B., we might have actually tried to find a two state solution. But after the threats and half-truths... no this is the correct path."
"Hm. Well I can see again. Not that I ever couldn't see, but better now." He almost sounds like he believes what he is saying. "Great Sunlord, we have come to destroy these hated Gems ourselves. Now that we know that you still live, we shall free you, and together we can send the gems back into the earth which I was reborn from once more."
"I merely ask of you that you lessen your heat, for I am gravely injured from my journey to you, and your light sears my already bloodied flesh."
"My word Samen, what fine sounds your friends make." Abnaki quips. "I cannot hear Wamblee, and I am injured myself. Has anyone seen him recently?" Remembering what he had in one of his pockets, he pulls out his wand of CLW. He may no longer remember how to use it, but he knows magics respond well to orders from a strong force of will. In fact, he cannot fail to activate the wand as he is now.
He waits to hear if Wamblee needs his aid or not before putting it back in his pocket(?) In fact, he's not entirely sure where he drew it from, now that his clothes have melded into him since the mycos rebirth. Best not to dwell on it too hard.
Turning to face in the general direction of the large, blinding object, Abnaki says "Well, let's carry on then. Shall we send the giants in first?"
Abnaki stops performing his inspire competence, and changes to using inspire courage instead! By using 2 rounds of performance to start, he enhances it to be a fey performance, meaning it spreads 60ft from him instead of 30. He waves his banner. Then he casts a burst discordant note dealing and requiring a DC 18 fort save or be staggered for 1 round in a 10ft radius
"An emissary called Julian Opal threatened me once long ago. I am glad I will live long enough to see him regret it." Abnaki muses to himself.
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