ꙮ A train ride away from Queenstown, there’s another outpost not unlike the one that you took to get to the Travelers’ valley; it looks like it’s out in the middle of nondescript nowhere. Aurelius and Luĉja can recall, though, that it’s a frequent hunting spot, on account of a nearby entrance to the Deepforge; the actual precise location of that entrance is only known to a few people. Luckily, Annarr was one of those people, and so is Saranzaya – your next destination in mind, you set out on another voyage across the Beast’s sere red landscape, and now you’re here - there’s a path marked by subtle signs, leading into the hills. Who’s taking the lead? 🙧
No song playing
Up next: 0 songs
1 listening
- Yazhn Ravhi, the Hierophant
Scene Archives
← Active ScenesThe Cathedral
#full cast session
#chapter 4: the beast
is armored in his silvery scale mail, great Matamata shell anchored to his shoulder, eyes steeled against the dark red dust that rolls from the hills, gently dissuading the travelers that would tread lightly.
has their shield at the ready, Kurat at their side, keeping two watchful eyes out, leading Clan Emberlight toward the tunnels that they walked out of one hundred and twenty years ago.
is happy to take the rear, his head on a swivel as he takes in his surroundings. “So, this is the place?”
is just ahead of Archie, naginata in hand–eyes scanning, and more importantly, ears listening, as they begin to go into the depths. “It would seem so?”
: “The entrance to the place, yeah. Got a ways to go once we’re in the tunnels. though.”
ꙮ Luĉja wouldn’t even need the trail markings, to be honest - they could always find his way back here from anywhere on the Beast (and then some, as it turns out, given their extraplanar adventures), and they and Kurat lead the party to a cavernous maw nestled in between the hills, with stalactites and stalagmites for gnashing teeth. There’s a path in the stone, this early in, worn smooth by fiend-feet. (And the occasional human visitor performing amateur remote cartography or hunting in the outer Forge.)
frowns a bit at the teeth-like stalactites and stalagmites. “Luĉja, do all the entrances look like … er … mouths?”
is wearing the Mask, at least for this part. She’s walking in the middle of the group, careful to observe as many things as possible.
: “I do not know if all entrances look like mouths, for I cannot be certain that I have traveled to every entrance. It is a reasonably common rock formation for caves on the Beast. Some entrances that habitually eject Behemoths and larger fiends have fewer of the ‘teeth’ though.”
: “The Beast DOES bite,” Wolf murmurs.
ꙮ Probably ‘cause the fiends knocked ‘em loose clambering their way out towards the moonlight.
: “Its eat or be vomited out on the Beast.”
: “Exactly.” They say, both to Wolf and to the Narrator.
: “Yes, well, she also likes her consistent animalistic imagery.”
ꙮ Wolf hears it first, but there’s a slow, steady, rhythmic drumbeat, from the cavern walls, from the air itself, from the depths uncharted. It’s not exactly audible - it’s something you feel, you know, rather than something you hear, but you’ve all heard reports of the Deepforge Drum, so it’s not like this one’s a just-you-six thing.
: “Nominative determinism is a thing!” he says, puffing out his chest, patting nonexistent dust off of his Prince title.
unwraps their now-glowing sword from its cloth carrying case. What was once stone, crystal, is now bright irrica, with a razor-sharp crystalline edge. Reddish white light glows out.
raises her eyebrows at the sword. “Doing gnosis experiments, Luĉja?”
finds his footsteps trying to fall in time with those drumbeats, and looks distinctly uncomfortable at the temptation.
stares in awe at the new weapon. “Hey… that’s pretty incredible! What’d you do to give it that sheen, Lucja?”
: “I had not intended to, but…yes. I was sent a gift, by my Mother. My sword now contains flourishing, pellucid, and burning gnosis. And a a little extra on top.”
peers at it in interest. “How did she manage to use more types of gnosis than burning, I wonder?”
: “The stable triad,” Wolf says. “That seems…a-purpose.”
: “A cousin of mine was sent to me, to give me their heart-fire. I was unconvinced that it was his time. He walks with me, now.” They point to the ruby, set in their blade.
: “Even if a plane is primarily saturated in one energy, there’s still smaller amounts of the others about.”
ꙮ The ruby in the blade blinks, contentedly, like a cat might.
: “And incidentally it looks like irrica. Just like when I wove pellucid, burning, and flourishing together.”
: “The flourishing and pellucid were imbued in Almachadta and Samudra, respectively. My original plan was to add the burning here. My Mother and my cousin thought it best I do so beforehand, apparently.”
frowns at the blade. “So it was crystal when it was flourishing and pellucid? That is … the crystal bait-sword, right?”
ꙮ In any event, you’re not in the depths uncharted, you’re in the depths charted - Aurelius found a map, which Annarr made, painstakingly. There are many entrances to the Deepforge, and labyrinthine caves that give way to– well, you’ll see, shortly, and they all converge on one point; you’ve got what should be the quickest route to that point figured out for you already, a surprise gift from the past to the now.
: “Yes. It was originally merely just a ploy to protect all of your weapons from the Scorpion Queen. Unfortunately, after 120 years, she has apparently become wise to my, admittedly, very limited bag of tricks.”
: “I think you understate your own cleverness, friend.”
: “That’s why you always pack a sucker-punch, too.” He nods sagely.
: “Your ‘diversion’ saved the academy–and may yet have a part to play in further mysteries and adventures, my friend. I would not discount it.”
: “I am clever. But I am not very good at being sneaky.”
: “Is anyone on this plane good at being sneaky?”
ꙮ Duškomira is good at being sneaky! Does she count?
shudders a little. “The land-sharks?”
: “Yes! There are many hunters that use stealth as their primary method of engaging with the enemy!”
ꙮ Oh, I like that answer better.
: “There’s an entire role dedicated to scouting, Salme…”
flicks a little bit of chicken breading straight into one of Aury’s ears.
rolls his eyes.
chuckles, ducking his head to hide it, as the missile strikes true.
ꙮ It’s amazing how good she is at that.
: “At least she’s stopped biting.” Said sotto voce.
pulls off the Mask long enough to gnash her teeth at Wolf.
: “You’d think that…”
blushes furiously and immediately shoves the Mask back on.
flushes a little, but grins–almost cheekily–at Aurelius. “She’s putting it to better use, at least.”
snickers openly while progressing upon the path, idly tracing arrows that point towards the last path they took. He’ll probably forget he drew them after a while.
: “I’m not sure -“ He starts, considers, then abruptly stops after shrugging in Awa’s direction.
ꙮ The caves are winding, twisting - there’s points where you could swear that you were going in circles, doubling back on yourself, but Aurelius and Luĉja are very good at what they do, and they lead you true. Eventually, it starts to feel less like a natural cave and more… it’s hard to say. The walls are smoother, like they were bored by something, deliberately. It’s hotter, the deeper you go, which - for anyone who spent any time on Almachadta, at least, certainly violates the intuitions concerning how a cave ought to behave. (And it’s pitch black, too - no glowing rocks, no glowing moss everywhere. Just Luĉja’s sword, unless one of you has another light source.)
ꙮ Through it all, the gentle beat of the world-drum.
: “Only one of them is really into biting when we fuck, Wolf, and I’ll leave you to guess which one.”
informs everyone, helpfully. During this critical mission.
laughs a little to himself at the chaos.
snaps his fingers a few times, each time sending off sparks of burning gnosis, but eventually lights a dark, violet flame that illuminates like a torch, but a blacklight. It floats just above his hand.
ꙮ Fancy!
, for his part, runs his finger along the back of his naginata’s blade–and it wreathes in gentle flame, like a torch.
glides a hand on the smooth stone, feeling for any hint of tool identations or other hints of what could have formed the tunnels.
- Archie invoked their 🔵pellucid gnosis [d12] -> 2.
- Archie has gained 1 Arete, and now has 6.
ꙮ No earthly idea - but that, itself, is information, in a way. It doesn’t feel like anything you’re familiar with - could have been gnosis, could have been a tunneling-fiend, born to gnaw rock smooth. Could have even been both?
ꙮ No hint of tooling, though; even Xilai’s expert stonework betrayed - somewhat deliberately - a person’s touch.
ꙮ The heat rises and rises as you continue, and in the distance, there’s a faint light, and a smell like hot metal.
ꙮ (And a sound, like a roaring waterfall - but it couldn’t be, not here.)
: “Catwalks soon, I think…”
: “Smells like fresh-forged. Like home.”
wrinkles his nose a little bit–after Almachadta’s forest-scent, and Samudra’s sea-salt, he finds the acrid smell a bit off-putting.
pulls some thin, black gloves over his hands. It’d be terrible to immediately burn his hand on something unexpectedly hot.
is mostly glad her clothing is so lightweight. She doesn’t dislike the heat, but she probably would if she was wearing her heavy Almachadtan cloak.
is similarly glad for the relative openness of his outfit as he begins to sweat in the heat.
ꙮ The tunnel opens out onto a cavern complex dotted with enormous stone pillars rising out of a sea of seething, black-crusted molten rock. Metal pathways connect the cavern entrances - for there are several, all feeding into this one complex - with the pillars of rock, which are hollow and rough on the inside, easily climbable. You’d think that the convection would just… roast you outright, but there’s some kind of gnosis blanketing the environment, keeping it carefully under control.
would be grinning ear to ear. Finally, an acceptable level of warmth.
: “… are we climbing down one of those hollow pillars?”
ꙮ Luckily, “easy for fiends to climb” more or less also means it’s easy for people to climb.
ꙮ There’s a particular path - this catwalk, then down the pillar, then that catwalk, then the other at a jaunty angle - and you can see the destination, the convergence of the paths, even from where you’re standing - a cleft in the rock wall like a scar in the earth, paved with black stone.
cracks his knuckles. “Anyone bring rope? No?”
: “I brought a hand cannon.”
raises an eyebrow at Lucxja. “Do we intend to shoot ourselves down?”
: “Might still help, how’s your aim?”
ꙮ I’d say don’t give the Prince ideas, but it might be too late for that…
: “I wanted to try something, actually.” He produces from his bag a slate tablet used for creation magics on Samudra. Invoking his personal gnosis rather than relying on environmental Pellucid, he snaps it, thinking of a generous length of rope.
: “Pretty good, for having acquired this only just before our Glass Shark Hunt.”
- Archie invoked their 🔵pellucid gnosis [d12] -> 7.
: “I can help, if anyone is lacking confidence in their ability to climb.”
ꙮ Archie - you invoke your own gnosis, and it pulls some out of the environment - the rope is interestingly rough-textured, not quite the way you imagined it - but it works, and the roughness might actually be ideal for this scenario!
examines it curiously, then chuckles to himself. “Textured rope like this is often referred to as toothy. Fitting. Well, we have rope now!”
: “Lets maybe try walking like normal people before we start doing cannon based acrobatics.”
ꙮ With this particular pillar, you almost don’t even need the rope - it’s full of rocks that almost act as a staircase, that some enterprising fiend or another must have rolled into place - but the rope definitely helps!
: “Very well. I will head down first to test the walkways for durability.” Like they were here yesterday, Luĉja is across the first catwalk and down the first spire. Being closer to fiend-sized has its perks.
: “It’s the orb that’d fly, but I suppose we can be on the lookout for anything left behind on the way.”
follows quickly after Lucja.
ꙮ The walkways don’t LOOK durable, but they’re incredibly sturdy. Little holes in their surface to stick your claws into for stability, except that none of you have claws. :( Design flaw.
follows, tying off the rope for the extra security of having something to hold on to.
follows easily, unconcerned with balancing or climbing.
ꙮ Even with that in mind, they’re not that precarious - they’re wider than they look, and there’s a weird weight to them; your feet want to stay on them. And then it’s down the pillar, and over another bridge, and another… and you stand in front of yawning darkness once more.
ꙮ There’s a black stone pathway that starts a bit outside the cleft in the rock, wide enough for a couple behemoth-fiends to trundle along it side by side, if they were so inclined.
looks carefully at the stone, his hand hovering over his spectacles - does it resemble the stone of the Obsidian Road?
- Archie invoked their 🔵pellucid gnosis [d12] -> 9.
ꙮ It does not - basalt, not obsidian.
: “So does the Beast produce more of large things, or the same amount of things just larger things?”
(Cousin, please light our way home) After a moment, Luĉja’s blade burns brighter, attempting to beat back a little more of the darkness before they start moving forward.
: “I have no idea how you’d go about answering that.”
ꙮ It winds through the stone for quite some time - pitch black, again, for a little while - before opening up again onto what appears at first to be a cavern full of fire; the path opens out into a basalt ledge overlooking bright hot molten rock. The path arcs out over the molten rock, jutting out in a long promontory - and if there are walls of the cavern they’re nowhere to be seen, because the entire ledge and pathway are surrounded at some distance by walls of flame, swirling gouts and torrents of flame reaching up as far as the eye can see. There’s an oppressive heat in the air; it howls with rampant burning gnosis. You have a sense of being watched - pareidolia of eyes in the fire. And there is no way forward, that you can discern - this must have been where Annarr’s drone-fiends stopped.
: “Ah, yeah, I suppose this would be a good stopping point.”
: “With decades of note-taking, but–“ He clicks his tongue as the heat intensifies, instinctively pulling on tenebrous gnosis to cut the air around him.
peers very hesitantly at the small sea of molten rock, wiping his brow with his sleeve. “Goddess bright.”
tries to stare back at the pareidolia of eyes in the fire, but probably only ends up hurting her own eyes.
pulls out a blue stone, then hurls it at the floor. As it shatters, a burst of cool air surrounds the group.
remembers his trick of invoking burning gnosis to stay warm in the Septetrione and wonders if the same trick might serve him in reverse.
turns around, confused, “Oh. That’s right. It must be uncomfortable here for you.”
ꙮ It’s nice and cozy, isn’t it?
does his best to will himself colder.
: “You’d think extreme heat would be bad for metal people too, but.”
: “This is what home feels like.”
looks more intently into the fire, and then offers one, two, three reassuring slow blinks while also reaching out with a small thread of herself.
ꙮ Your gnosis does work here, despite all the Burning heavy in the air.
takes a step onto the pathway, gently testing its strength.
ꙮ It’s solid.
grabs Salme by the hand and tugs her along as he follows Lucja.
laughs a little, letting herself be tugged.
looks aghast. “Oh by all the little gods, you can’t be serious.”
: “It’s fine, just don’t stray from the path.”
: “My memories begin to grow hazy at this point. Likely due to the recency of my creation at the time. But this is the path I left. The fire I walked out of.”
falls in line silently, one foot following the other.
: “I mean… unless there’s something behind the waterfall of fire–“ and Lucja says what they said, and Awoken begins to smile.
: “And we don’t have to do anything extra? No gnosis invocations or anything?”
ꙮ Luĉja’s sword glows a little brighter as they step out onto the pathway.
: “Unsure. I am not made of the same materials you are. I am attempting to assess.”
walks up to the curtain of fire, trying to figure out how to safely help their clan pass.
: “I mean, I’m confident in my tools, but if you not, an extra layer of protection or cooling wouldn’t hurt.”
: “Your sword seems to have some opinions?”
nodding to the glowing blade.
though Luĉja can’t see her, because she’s behind them.
ꙮ The path cuts out before it hits the wall of fire - but as you step close to the edge, the sword glows brighter, and shimmering ruby outlines sketch the path that would continue into the flame, over the sea of magma.
tests to see if the path is there, or if it must be made.
ꙮ When you step out onto thin air, it’s met with resistance, shimmering ruby light, as sturdy as the stone.
makes a very unhappy sound in the back of his throat.
turns behind them. “We have a path. A faint one. Follow me, carefully. Look for the glowing red light.” They reach out and offer a hand, just to make sure they can grab whoever comes next if the path doesn’t hold for them.
invokes not his gnosis but his eidesis, humming a little to himself as he prepares to step out onto the invisible path.
doesn’t seem too bothered by the idea of an invisible path, stepping confidently in Lucja’s footsteps.
intensifies the tenebrous gnosis around him, it now taking the form of a rippling sheen. He confidently strides forward, but isn’t trying to maneuver around anyone.
also confidently follows along, probably still holding Aurelius’ hand unless he’s let go. She’s mostly staring, fascinated, at the semi-transparent ground beneath her feet and at the fire sheeting around her.
ꙮ Best stick close - the path’s less ‘invisible’ and more ‘only exists as Luĉja is walking it’. But you’d probably be sticking close, anyways, under the circumstances…
is working very hard not to look down, and visibly steels himself before stepping out onto the path. “I must cast out fear…”
hums a little louder, turning the tune in Wolf’s direction, the melody becoming sparser and ready for another to join, the line lilting up like an invitation.
walks up to the curtain of fire. (Thank you Cousin, for bringing me the path.) As they start channeling their gnosis, they begin to hum.
grabs on to the melody like a lifeline, weaving himself into it–shakily at first, but with a steady increase in confidence, his steps steadying as his humming does.
listens to Luĉja and adjusts, the melody becoming harmony, making space for his song.
adjusts in turn–finding himself gesturing at the hidden Song that Lucxja holds.
A reddish glow rises off their shell, through their sword, onto the path, solidifying its existence for the rest of the party. Lifting one arm up and over, it forms a canopy through the fire-fall, diverting the flames off to either side.
pushes their arm forward, and in a warm, gentle wave, the path continues, and widens, so that the rest of the Clan can continue past them. Hexagonal tiles, perfectly interlocked, form the way forward.
: “A bridge, then.” Luĉja says, to no one, in particular.
ꙮ From the walls of fire, you could swear you hear voices humming with you, a susurrus within the fire, a suggestion of accompaniment.
ꙮ And then,
- You hear — and your Star hears — a song, echoing from the stillness: Estas la Ponto
raises an eyebrow at Lucja.
The red light continues to swirl. “The path exists while I walk it. Go now, first. I will follow.”
ꙮ Light and fire radiate from Luĉja and form the path; the fire parts. Behind it, a corridor of brass, decorated with rubies and red enamel, leads deeper into the Forge, where no human has yet stepped.
nods, slipping past Lucja.
grins wildly. His steps quicken- they’re smaller, but definitively precise, cutting across the ruby path with a light gait and spicy, turning maneuvers.
walks brisky, first, then accelerates into a jog as he proceeds forward.
pauses as she walks past Luĉja to meet their eyes. “You belong with us. And your time will not come on this journey into the Deepforge,” and then she’s following behind the others.
gratefully sets foot on the less-ephemeral path, giving the Endjinn a gentle pat on the chest as he passes.
: “My time is not now, Friend-Salme. We have not yet won.”
Once everyone has passed, Luĉja walks the path home, the red light evaporating behind them, and pouring back into their frame and sword.
keeps Luĉja’s words close to her heart.
ꙮ The light rejoins the sword, and seems a little brighter than before. There’s a skittering-scampering just out of sight. You have absolutely none of the sense you get when a Rite is about to get sprung on you by something, though - and you can’t see anything - so down the hallway it is, into a large antechamber - it WAS a cavern, once, and over time, became more and more decorated with brass and precious stone. ⁂
ꙮ There is an arch-fiend, hulking in the centre of the room; bulbous and asymmetrical, with a gigantic metallic blue shell and one huge pincer wagging chidingly in the air. It’s got tank treads curled up underneath it like legs might be - maybe it was taking a nap and hasn’t properly gotten up yet? It does not move, but it looks towards you, with so many eyes, and bobs its pincer, levelling it towards you– less ‘menacing’ than ‘curious’.
: “Hello, Cousin. We seek Mother.”
: “Hey there, uh…” He asides to Lucja. “(Does your cousin have a name?)”
(I have no idea)
ꙮ It looks over Luĉja, and his companions, and asks with a voice like metal on old stone, “Revenantoj?” And then a pause… and it waggles its pincer from side to side. “No. Not revenantoj.”
nods… and then shakes his head when it waggles the pincer.
ꙮ ”Peace?” It locks eyes with Luĉja.
: “Always.”
ꙮ ”Hn.” It bobs its pincer, pleasantly. “Peace.”
is not drawing any weapons, but probably is letting go of Salme’s hand at this point.
smiles a little despite himself, watching the exchange.
ꙮ ”Why have you come here, if not to Return?”
ꙮ You can kind of hear the capital letter.
concedes that is the sensible thing to do and also stands with a bit more tension herself.
: “We seek to heal this world and other worlds beyond it. We would speak with Mother, and find out if from here, there might be a way to help and to continue the path.”
ꙮ It gets up, then, lumberingly unfolding its tank-treads and shaking itself out a bit, ponderously slow, and then it scoots closer to the party to get a closer look at everyone, curiosity finally winning out once the declaration of peace has been made.
(To the party) “They mean us no harm. We have declared peace. Be at ease.”
strikes a pose of ‘one hand on hip, the other giving a two fingered salute.’ “My name is The Awoken Prince!” he declares, as the eyes come to witness him.
ꙮ It addresses the party. “Humans?”
ꙮ You can all hear it.
ꙮ It’s… unclear where its mouth is.
: “One. … ish.”
bows to it, respectfully–without ever taking his eyes off it. “Aye, sir.”
nods. “Or close enough. My name is Archie.” He nods in respect.
gives an elegant curtsy but keeps her eyes locked on the Arch-Fiend through the Mask, though more curious than anything else.
ꙮ ”Oh.” It trundles closer to you, then, wiggling every single one of its little maxillipeds, tasting the air more than getting a good look. “Oh.”
: “Have you ever met a human before?”
ꙮ ”No.” Its voice is - for all that it’s creaky and ancient-sounding - full of something much like wonder.
slips her Mask off and smiles. “I don’t think any of us save for Luĉja has ever met someone quite like you before. It’s sort of amazing, isn’t it?”
: “First thing to know about humans-“ He holds up a finger. “-they don’t eat rocks.”
blinks, then smiles suddenly–and his hesitation disappears in a wash of delight. “May I ask, sir, if you have a name?”
: “First thing to know about Kushtaka-“ He holds up a different finger. “-they don’t eat rocks either.“
: “Exception: salt.”
nods enthusiastically.
ꙮ Towards Luĉja: “Thank you, Cousin.”
ꙮ ”I am… a revenanto. One of many.”
: “Are all of you related?”
ꙮ ”All fiends are cousins.”
mumbles to himself, “(Kinda far from Valais…)”
ꙮ It pauses, for several moments, like it’s building something word by word before saying it, then: “We, the revenantoj. Those who Returned. Those who wait with Her, the Whisperer, the Mourning-Mother, the Desolation. Ever-watchful, she yearns for Her own end. We are those fiends who turned back around, and returned to Her, to give Her comfort in Her last hours.”
ꙮ ”You have come to pay Her your respects as well. I did not know humans… could. I did not expect to see a human in my life.” It tastes the air, again.
: “Wait–why can you speak, when so many others cannot?” Wolf tilts his head at the fiend.
ꙮ It rumbles. “I am borrowing the words.” It bobs its pincer, graciously, to Luĉja.
ꙮ ”A fiend… travelling with humans. Humans, visiting Her temple. There are such wonders.” And it sinks back a little onto its tank treads.
: “I mean… there’s a whole lot goin’ on.”
: “More than any of us could have imagined, Cousin.”
: “I don’t suppose you know anything about moons, do you?”
raises an eyebrow at the word temple.
also raises an eyebrow at the word–though the other eyebrow.
raises both eyebrows, to be safe.
continues to not have eyebrows
ꙮ It then slooooowly turns, and wiggles a pincer in a ‘follow me’ motion, and starts rolling in the direction of one of the corridors leading out from the antechamber. “I know Her time is coming. Her song, more intent. I wish that She would speak to us. Perhaps She will speak to you. Please. Let me show you. Where we wait with Her.”
tilts his head slightly, and then follows, obediently.
: “Thank you Cousin. I, too, hope She will speak with us.” They follow their Cousin, motioning for Clan Emberlight to follow
follows, but can’t help asking, “Why does She yearn for Her own end?”
ꙮ It leads you down that corridor, into a much, much larger cavern that’s absolutely full of fiends - strange fiends, misshapen fiends, odd ones out of the batch. Fiends that evoke death - an enormous glistening metal centipede with an unwieldy radio antenna apparatus sprouting out of its head clambers along the ceiling, turns to observe the lot of you curiously. Other fiends lurk in the shadows, although you see some of their eyes tracking you - glowing in the dim. Some of the fiends are weeping, singing along with the same melody from the cavern of fire, the song radiating out from the depths of the Deepforge.
softly, part in wonder and part in deep sorrow. “They’re…mourning.”
ꙮ ”Yes.”
meets the eyes of any fiend that looks at them and offers more slow blinks.
ꙮ A couple of them blink back, even if all you can see is their eyes from the shadows.
ꙮ ”She does not wish to be.”
does stare, he can’t help but stare, spread around to the multitudes gathered.
: “She loves her family. She loves the Beast. But she is Desolation. The Beast’s time draws short with hers, it seems.”
ꙮ ”We fight, and die, because She cannot. We are an unmet need. And yet. Some of us.” It wiggles a pincer at Luĉja. “Learn to speak. And set forth. And live with the humans. So, we think, she must want that, also. And some of us.” And it gestures to the cavern. “Some of us Return, and mourn Her. And so, we think, she must also want that. And so.”
ꙮ Towards the back of the cavern, there’s an ornamental gate, carved into the wall and inlaid, like the antechamber, with brass and enamel.
: “So She wishes for the end, because She—doesn’t want to destroy everything? But She must?”
ꙮ It wiggles its pincer. “Is that why She cries out? It is not given to us to know Her mind. Just Her sorrow.”
: “Fair enough. Thank you, for explaining what you could.”
nods sympathetically, looking out over the scene.
ꙮ ”Beyond that gate. A leap of faith. If you wish to meet her.” It pauses. “For us… we do not return. But things may be different. For you.”
: “Thank you, Cousin.”
looks to the fiend out of the corner of his eye. “Have faith in us. I think– I believe, that it’ll help.”
: “Our work is not yet done. Our faith is that we will finish it still.”
ꙮ ”If nothing else. I met a human. Before the end.” It bows its pincer, reverentially.
opens the door and looks inside.
(Cousin. Will you come with me, or shall I leave you with our family, on this side of the door?)
ꙮ It’s another passageway - this one just large enough that the largest fiend you’ve seen could get through, if it kind of scrunched itself all the way up. To Luĉja: (I will not make the final Return. Not today. Go in peace, Cousin.)
ꙮ There’s a smaller cavern, past that passageway. In the centre of this cave, there is a hole with unusually smooth, steep sides; it looks like some terrifying force punched straight through the cavern floor, somehow, melting the rock into a green and glassy surface.
glances back over his shoulder at Awa. “You have an orb in a saner location on this plane already, right?” Then steps inside.
follows Aurelius in through the doors.
follows as well, though once they see the smaller cavern she has to more carefully modulate her breath.
: “Nah, I figured this was gonna be a one way trip.”
examines the room. On a scale of No to Yes, how much does this look like an Omniclast hole?
: “I mean, yeah. But I figured you’d want fast travel points set. … Unless there’s an orb limit?”
ꙮ It doesn’t, really. Planes are lousy with things punching holes in the floor, I guess?
ꙮ You have the sense that whatever did this is capable of tremendous, unthinkable destruction, though; the hair on the back of your neck goes up, a little.
: “They get used up as I go to them, so that, too, is a bunch of one-way trips. I’m working on refining it, though!”
: “That implies that it hasn’t been up since we got here…” Wolf says, with a glance at the ceiling.
: “I can go first though if you want, leave you holdin’ an orb.”
: “Naw. Comin’ down!”
hops into the hole.
stares after Aurelius.
immediately runs after him and jumps into the hole.
ꙮ Aurelius and Salme fall down the hole and out of sight. Wheeeeeee!
lowers themself down, and drops through - as far as they can from where it looks like everyone already jumped.
: “Oh, how dare you–!!” He leaps into the hole!
: “Oh for the love of…” Wolf glances at Archie. “We’re really doing this?”
nods back. “It would appear so,” he says, before jumping down to join the others.
rubs his temples briefly–then screws his courage to the sticking place and leaps!
ꙮ You take the leap of faith. You fall for a very long time, long enough that it feels more like flying towards a destination - you lose track of which direction ‘down’ originally even was, for a moment, and then there is a force which catches you; your fall slows, and smooths, and you land on something pleasantly soft yet unpleasantly wet, that pulses underneath your feet with the beat of the drum that you’ve been hearing the whole time you’ve been in the Deepforge. You get your bearings… ⁂
ꙮ You are standing in the narthex of a cathedral of metal, and meat, and blood. Smooth columns of metal that look like they were grown rather than forged form elaborate cross-patterned catenaries, curvilinear and branching supports bearing some incredible weight. In between the metal ribs of the cathedral are arched walls made of smooth muscle; many of them contain what is unmistakably a mouth, closed for the time being. The path down the nave is lined with mouths. ⁂
ꙮ At the apse, there is a curved window made of something which is not glass, yet shares the transparency of glass; behind that window there is an eye so enormous that you can only even see part of it - a rainbow-colored iris, shimmering and unbelievably lovely, and a pupil that’s black as night. It’s looking straight at you. Underneath it is a door, profoundly and firmly locked. There’s a small platform at the crossing, shimmering with gnosis. 🙧
: “‘Closed, for the time being.’ thanks for the warning, I guess?”
looks like–between the fall-flight, and the surroundings he finds himself in, that it’s not just the hair on his neck that’s standing up–it’s the hair on his entire body. “Gods above and below.”
: “It always felt like a heart…I did not assume it would be a fleshy one, though.”
: “Hmm.”
does stalk forward and grabs Aurelius’ hand. “(Some warning would have been nice!)”
ꙮ The cathedral smells like metal. Like iron, particularly. Not like blood– but not unlike blood, and not unlike a forge in mid-operation.
: “How did you think we were going to get past a leap of faith?”
kneels and removes a glove, touching the wet ground with an ungloved hand.
: “I figured we were going to make a leap of faith. I didn’t think I was going to have to watch you do it with zero deliberation. That’s Awa’s job!”
ꙮ Somewhat less moist than the inside of a cheek.
: “Yeah, cause there was nothing to deliberate.”
looks at his palm. Any colorized wetness, or is it akin to a natural spring rich in iron?
: “And you all tease me for being rash.” He sounds like he’s grumbling to distract himself from being creeped out.
ꙮ Your hand doesn’t come away stained with blood, if that’s what you’re asking.
stares up at the eye. The eye they saw, when they saw the Dream-Whales. “Mother?”
: “They said it was fine, had no reason to doubt ‘em.”
ꙮ The eye saccades very slightly to focus on Luĉja.
ꙮ (It is weeping. Behind the glass, you don’t know how you know this, you couldn’t possibly know this- but the eye is soaked in tears.)
was asking that, yeah. He ungloves the other hand, pocketing them both before standing and proceeding further in.
looks, briefly, like she might try strangling Aurelius, but then shakes her head and just walks forward, looking around the cathedral, drawn almost inexorably toward the apse. She does not cross the transept where gnosis shimmers, though.
ꙮ Does the Awoken walk that close?
: does walk that close, yeah.
: “Thank you for your gift, Mother. It brought my friends and I here safely.” They walk closer, towards, but not up to the door & transept, “These…are my friends. I am sorry. I have not yet finished my task.”
ꙮ At the crossing of this cathedral, there is nothing that meets the eye, nothing visible - but there is that conflux of gnosis, and you know before you even approach it that you can attune to the Beast, here, and can now open a [Kinder, Gentler Path]. As you approach, though, the mouths along the walls of the cathedral open, nearly simultaneously, and they begin to sing.
- You hear — and your Star hears — a song, echoing from the stillness: Πότε ἐπελεύσεται τελείως?
: “- Oh, that could have been worse.”
sees the Awoken Prince approach unharmed and follows him, listening closely to the song.
: “Hey wait why isn’t that translating?”
jogs after his dubious highness to grab his hand and walk forward with him.
: “Oh right, Ancient.”
does wait as he senses her approach, taking her hand. He’s stopped approaching as the song reverberates through the sinewed, steeled hall.
stands transfixed–eyes going misty and wet from the sheer beauty of the song.
ꙮ The mouths close. The eye briefly looks from one of you, to the other, then back to Luĉja.
: “So… this would be a really, really, really radical way to introduce world travelers to the Beast. But.”
: “Out of consideration for those less-of-heart,”
: “At some point in the future,”
: “We should place another gate somewhere else. But for us, for here, for now?”
: “Yeah. Obviously.”
: “I can’t imagine any place better.”
nods grimly. “Works for me. At least we’ll never have to worry about forgetting what’s at stake. Though, do we have a way back out of the hole?”
: “Fall up.”
: “Make more rope.”
: “Fire an orb up there and I’ll drop some down.”
: “But… well…”
turns to look at the eye. “Who knows what will be when we return…”
looks at Luĉja, as the eye is looking at Luĉja. “Do you see anything different, friend?”
ꙮ She meets the Awoken’s gaze, solemnly.
: “I’m really hoping and betting at this point that the timeframe of all of this relative to the pace of our progress will put us with Enough Time, But Just Barely.”
kneels, silently, and places his hand on the floor, and…says a silent prayer, in sympathy.
: “She…weeps…”
: “Does she talk, though?”
ꙮ Suddenly – by pure, utter coincidence – the entire cathedral shifts - not quite enough to knock you off your feet but definitely enough to put you off balance; the eye rolls in its socket, and the mouths– they don’t scream, but the soft, desperate cacophony of sobs and whimpers they let out is enough to make you wish that they had.
covers his ears, hunching, eyes squeezing shut.
puts a hand over an ear. “Ah, yeah, of course.”
steadies himself, hands almost covering his ears but more wanting to brace his head for thoughts.
unconsciously reaches for a pocket, and pulls out the Traveler’s Map, opens it, and stares.
: “…lost another one.”
: “How many, left, now?”
: “Four.”
: “So it is something we can feel if we’re close enough.”
: “Huh.”
ꙮ You could swear that, in the wordless noise, the mouths are whispering, ‘I’m sorry’. Or your brain just really wants to pick that out of the noise, as it dies down.
spends a long moment just breathing, and gathering himself, before he stands. There are tear-tracks down his face, which he wipes away with the back of his hand. “We should not tarry, then.”
finds a less… wet… portion of ground to construct a new [KGP] door on.
: “Really wish we were building this anywhere else at all but oh well…”
decides, out of an abundance of empathy and the knowledge he can get it cleaned again soon enough, to lay his Academy jacket on the wet ground like a blanket and sit on it, but not before retrieving from a deep waterproofed pocket a certain purple scarf, which he places on his lap and lets his hands drift over as he begins a comforting, soothing song.
Archie wants to try Circling with it, or as close as can be managed
ꙮ Most of the floor of the cathedral itself isn’t Fleshy and Moist, actually, just the part you had a nice soft landing on. It’s…. well, it’s unclear what it’s made out of, but it’s stable and dry it crumbles away like quarry stone or island dirt when you raise the Kinder, Gentler Path.
ꙮ Archie - almost as soon as you reach out to it, you’re flooded with the song you heard, and for a split second before your mind immediately breaks the Circle out of instinctive Irós training you’ve still got and couldn’t get rid of if you tried, it’s so overwhelming that you can barely even recall your own name. It’s just– that song, overwhelming as the deep sea far from shore.
: “Mother…who did this to you?”
squeezes the Awoken’s hand before dropping it and going over to Luĉja. “Do you want … me to try to link you with her? As we linked once before? I probably won’t … accomplish anything, but. You were made to communicate, right?”
gives her shoulder a quick squeeze. “If you’re going to try, be careful. It’s… not pleasant.”
: “As much as I wish to know, I do not think she will be able to speak to me. We have four moons left to save the world. To save Her. We have been given a door. We must continue.”
goes to inspect the locked door - does it look like the one in the Sword-Saint’s Shrine?
nods and follows Luĉja over to the locked door—she’s curious about that herself.
ꙮ It looks strangely mechanical - more of something you’d find in a bank vault or a munitions factory than a cathedral - and has a multi-ringed combination-style lock lined with what look to be letters and sigils in the Ancient language.
trails behind Salme, tilting his head at the door–and its lock. “More Ancient. A language I’m starting to wish I understood much better.”
laughs a little wryly. “Yeah. Same.” She looks at Luĉja. “Can you … sense anything on the other side of that door?” Then she looks over her shoulder at Aurelius. “Or … you can sense void stuff, right?”
shakes his head. “A feeling I know all too well, Wolf. In truth, though I may be one of its biggest scholars, my knowledge of it is imperfect at best.”
: “What makes you think a void would be on the other side of a sealed ancient vault?”
: “Nothing, really. Just seemed like worth ruling out?”
pushes off from the Gate he’d been leaning against and goes to inspect the lock, though.
What's the D/C to crack it open?
shrugs and steps back though.
shakes their head. “I cannot sense through the door.”
ꙮ Taking a look at the number of letters and glyphs on each ring… you could be here for a very, very, very long time. If you’re thinking about more destructive measures… it looks very, very sturdy. Would probably stand up to a blast from Luĉja’s hand cannon, honestly, with room to spare.
was thinking about non-explosive methods of safe cracking, yes.
knocks on the door a few times- one, to see if anyone opens it from the other end, but two, also subtly trying to ascertain the density of the door.
ꙮ No response, shockingly, but it seems very thick. Blast door, vault door thick.
: “Hmm. Yup, pretty complicated vault door.”
ꙮ Sure seems like it.
: “Anyway if that’s everything -“
moves back to the KGP and opens it up.
: “Yeah… will have to crack open this ventricle later.”
looks around the cathedral. “Seems like it is, yeah.”
ꙮ Her eye follows you, as you approach the door.
ꙮ It opens, as they always do, onto the train platform Between, with its classy, elegant geometries.
walks on through.
turns back one last time to make eye contact with the iris before stepping onto the platform.
: “Goodbye, mother-in-law. May we meet again before the end, and may the end not find purchase.”
ꙮ (She would blink, you think. She would blink in acknowledgement, you think, were She able to.)
: “What?”
just bows to that great eye, fist over his heart–and then steps through the gate.
ꙮ The Liminal Express is waiting for you. It’s much cooler on this side of the gate, too. (Which is pleasant for five of you, at least.)
pauses in the doorway, and looks into the eye. “I’m supposed to face the end of all things, and if I survive, I’m supposed to come back. I hope I get to.” She curtsies, and then walks through the gate.
looks up at their Mother’s eye. “Mi revenos. Sed ne nun.” They walk through the gate.
heads through the gate, dispelling his tenebrous cooling shroud.
ꙮ The conductor-golem looks happy to see all of you! And you didn’t track anything weird in from the cathedral, so that’s good. Making yourselves comfortable on the train, then?
greets the conductor brightly and takes what’s become his habitual seat.
is all spread out on a seat already!
deeply exhales, bending forward slightly, hand on his knees.
: “Wheeeeeeeeeew! Heavy!”
sits down and stares out the window back at the gate, looking just…kind of pensive.
takes a seat by herself, drawing her knees up to her chest and … being a little bit rude, getting her shoes on the upholstery like that.
sits, quietly, thinking
hustles inside of the traincar, having a seat somewhat spread out.
pauses for a second, running back to the gate and dropping a little pamphlet titled “MORSE CODE” through the gate to where the giant eye can see it, then returns to the train.
ꙮ Somehow, no matter what, the Liminal Express is always spotless even if you got your shoes everywhere. It’s useful to have a magic train!
concedes that’s true, but it’s sort of the principle of the thing.
keeps her knees drawn up and feet on the seat, though.
ꙮ Once you’re settled in, the conductor rings the bell, and–
Wings unfurl from the silvered egg atop the engine-car, glassy and colorful, in a spray of flower petals; each wing stretches itself out, carefully, and then they beat, once, twice, and the train begins to move through silvered moonlight rails, towards its destination.
starts to relax as the ride begins. “There’s a comforting feeling with the iron and axled train, but for smoothness, nothing beats this.”
ꙮ Arcing through the Void, circling in closer and closer to the Ziggurat and the station on the Obsidian Road. There’s a few more buildings, now - or, rather, the suggestion of buildings, shadowy blocks of obsidian that are vaguely the shape of buildings that do not, yet, exist.
: “It’s a good train.”
: “That’s true.”
nods. “No offense to Beast, but this train’s my favorite.”
ꙮ The ziggurat is adorned with metal, now - there’s a beacon, up at the top, a warm, bright, eternal flame to guide you in towards your destination. (Which is a bit strange, since the train is on rails, but.)
: “The realm here is expanding…” He squints at the building-ghosts, trying to glean the shape of them.
: “It’s been doing that each time its had a new type of gnosis poured into it, yeah. Though it does look like it’s growing a bit more this time.”
ꙮ It also looks like… the -structure- of the ziggurat is more complex, somehow. Like it’s become a puzzlebox with well-concealed hinges - but not concealed enough, you can see where there’s support and bracing that’s been added.
: “Well, yes. But it hadn’t added the starts of new buildings before…”
ꙮ The train pulls into the station.
: “The platform station, actually, but I guess that’s small enough to not think too hard about.”
disembarks from the train, giving the conductor a cheerful, thankful nod. “Ember’s going to have one heck of a penthouse before it’s all done.”
flips the conductor a lucre as he climbs out.
: “As they deserve,” Archie chuckles, approvingly.
ꙮ Speaking of whom, Ember is waiting, kind of… near the train station, rather than right under the lamppost. Like they were waiting for you guys. Brightly-shimmering red eyes peek out from the depths of its form. And they sing for you, again, a recollection of the gnosis you’ve brought with you to their home.
- You hear — and your Star hears — a song, echoing from the stillness: Solitude ~ She, Who Cannot Lose
: “Man, you moved the pile all the way over here…? That must’ve been annoying, and I guess you must’ve been excited.”
steps off the train, and blinks in surprise seeing Ember. “Oh, hello.”
gently rests a hand on the pile. “We missed you too!”
: “Hello, little one!”
smiles at Ember, his dark thoughts forgotten, at least for the moment. “Ah, did you come out to meet us?”
ꙮ They can’t answer, of course. But there’s a playfulness, to their rendition this time, that suggests that maybe that’s so - and as you approach the Ziggurat, they actually follow you, moving slowly, to be sure, but trundling along on their own power at a visible speed.
: “It’s filling out nicely, yeah?”
: “We’re certainly getting there!”
looks thoughtful. “One wonders what happens when we get all…six? Five?”
looks more closely at the ziggurat. “Obvious architectural clarity aside, I wonder what else has changed about this place.”
ꙮ Only one way to find out, I suppose?
: “I would assume that this would be the sixth world. It seems like the home of Liminal gnosis. Though who can say? There may be even stranger places to discover.”
: “Let’s have a closer look!” He picks up the pace to enter the ziggurat. Maybe there’s actual beds inside?
nods. “I agree, my bet is that this is the sixth world, but time will tell.” Archie’s also definitely hoping for beds.
follows The Awoken Prince, continually looking back to check on Ember.
, before she catches up with the others, crouches down to say to Ember, “You know. We finally chose a Clan name. It’s Emberlight.” And then she trots after the others after giving Ember a quick pat.
follows along behind the others, after giving Ember a gentle pet–as much as he can. He smiles at Salme’s words.
ꙮ So, the first thing that you notice is that there’s a large foyer in the ziggurat, now, and a huge ramp leading down, directly from that foyer, into… the basement? The middle of the structure? There are corridors leading off on either side, and, yes, gloriously, they contain actual ROOMS with actual BEDS, now. It’s lovely.
ꙮ Ember very slowly and happily blinks their eyes.
notices Wolf trailing along behind everyone and drops back to grab his hand and give it a squeeze.
: “Thank you, little one.”
sprints into one of the rooms and hurls himself full speed on a bed with a joyful squeak!
ꙮ But there’s that ramp, going down.
: “WE GOT BEDS!” he calls out, but the call of the ramp compels him to delve deeper.
continues down the ramp. Beds, while exciting, are at least 50% less exciting, considering how much they sleep.
blinks into the bedrooms–then follows down the ramp, also curious.
is with Lucja.
bounces back off the mattress to rejoin the others in exploring the new hallways.
is also headed rampward.
ꙮ Luĉja and the Awoken get there first - the middle of the ziggurat is taken up by what is, somehow unmistakably, an airship docking bay; there’s a little panel on a pedestal that has a button for extending and retracting a pier, and… another big, green button that’s not labeled.
looks around the room.
turns back to look at Ember.
immediately pushes the green button.
: “…Why is the airship dock in the basement, buddy…?”
: “Turn the chessboard around, Aury!”
: “Fascinating.”
ꙮ There’s a loud, slow warning klaxon that sounds…
: “We’re actually in the sky right now.”
: “Why do—yeah, I feel like we’re about to lose the ground.” Looks into the room but stays on the ramp, thanks.
covers an ear as the klaxon sounds. “Thank you for making that deeply unpleasant sound…”
ꙮ And then the entire top of the structure where there aren’t bedrooms and such unfolds and splays out on hinges, unfurling like a flower.
: “IT IS RATHER LOUD, PERHAPS WE SHOULD ENGAGE THE KLAXOFF”
: “NO WAY, IT’S ANNOUNCING THE FLIGHT!”
: “I feel like asking my question again, but with more intensity at that…”
: “What in the good green earth…?” Now both hands are over his ears.
has never before realized how useful it would be to have ears to plug.
ꙮ The klaxon really only was, like, a one-blast “hey the ziggurat is about to open up”, now you’re all just shouting for no reason.
is shouting because he’s excited, really.
ꙮ Valid, honestly.
laughs in amazement, watching it transform.
is glad the ground is still here, at least, but. “Okay, well Aurelius’ points are even more well-made now.”
: “Why the basement when the top of the thing unfolds?”
ꙮ Presumably, so your airship doesn’t get rained on?
ꙮ Ignore that there’s no rain in the void between worlds.
: “Wait, what happened to the flame at the top of the Ziggurat?”
ꙮ Not yet, anyways.
Or airships.
ꙮ There’s also that.
: “Well, there is rain in the void between worlds when Awa does … something.” She remembers their little cookout.
: “You need a hangar to perform maintenance, and to unload cargo, and to hide it from aerial reconnaissance…”
: “Plus it’s the ultimate bug-out transport- if we’re sleeping in the ziggy rooms and six billion fiends come knocking? Aerial escape time!”
: “Why is there an airship dock when there’s no airship?” He looks even more bemused. “And since when do ships fly?”
: “Feels like it would have been easier to just make a normal hanger out in that giant empty expanse, but, fair I guess.”
: “D’y’not have airships in your memeories of the pre-sundered world, Wolf?”
ꙮ …anyways, hitting the button again makes the ziggurat close up, again, neatly and politely folding itself back together. You can also tell that you could activate it remotely via gnosis, if you’re coming in for a landing.
ꙮ Hypothetically. On an airship that does not exist. Just in case, I guess?
: “There are definitely things that float in those images, and creatures that fly, but not…ships that fly.”
gives a big, oversized wink to the narrator.
: “Well. Zaed’s airship exists. It just doesn’t fly. Or have a power source.”
: “So I guess how do you define exists?”
: “Ah, he did, didn’t he?” Wolf looks a little sheepish. “I got rather distracted, that day.”
: “All the pieces can be assembled. I know it.”
: “Oh. Well, yeah, it’s one of the four basic types of ships: waterships, sandships, skyships, and spaceships.”
: “Basic.”
: “Space…ships?”
: “Yeah.”
perks up. “Wait. Though. Tell me more about spaceships.”
: “Don’t all ships have space in them?”
: “No, ships for traveling through space. Outside of planets.”
gives Aurelius the look of a man who, until very recently, lived inside a planet.
: “Yeah. I mean. It’d be a really long distance to walk.”
“Then…would this not be a spaceship dock?*”
: “You could definitely make the argument, though there’s probably a lot of weird nuance to be had for landing on airship in particular.”
: “No stars, not space. It’s a liminal space, but not space.”
: “I’m just saying, if a spaceship is a basic kind of ship, then we should be able to build one.”
briefly almost bluescreens when he starts wondering if a magic elevator counts as a spaceship, but shakes it off.
: “Are we sure this isn’t space? Liminal refers to the space between, it’s entirely possible given our current model of the shape of the cosmos that liminal space and outer space are synonymous.”
slowly turns his head towards Archie, and smiles equally as slowly.
: “I’m glad you asked!”
: “I mean we could build a really shitty one that wouldn’t be good for travel if you really want, but we lack the infrastructure for a good one.”
just rubs one temple as he tries to parse the conversation.
kicks at a rock that doesn’t exist on the ground. “Just seems like if it’s a basic kind of ship, if we’re gonna get an airship we should also get a spaceship.”
has given up on understanding. There is space for a ship, but not a spaceship, and that seems to be enough for now.
: “Take it up with Glory.”
: “Glory’s not the one telling me everything is impossible all of the time!”
: “There’s no reason it can’t be both.”
ꙮ Well, you have a Liminal Train. Maybe this is a dock for a Liminal Space-ship. I don’t know. If the airship dock doesn’t suit you, at least there’s private rooms with very comfy beds, now?
thinks the airship dock is very nice and has made the Awoken extremely happy. She just also would like a chance to go to space.
looks at the ceiling and says, rather plaintively: “You know, I learned to enjoy walking…”
thinks about a glass-ship that can operate on the Z-axis. Perhaps a thought worth exploring, if only on Samudra.
: “Walking is also nice.” She turns to Wolf and smiles, warmly. “Speaking of wish, I heard you made a recent addition to the annex to allow for precisely such a thing! We really should talk, heart-brother.”
: “Walking is for dungeon exploration and chumps that didn’t unlock faster travel methods.”
has the grace to look chagrined. “Yes, well, we should. Forgive me, I didn’t realize I was going to make an addition…”
: “You … you realize that. Makes me more concerned, not less?”
rubs the back of his head. “I think it turned out quite well, all told…”
: “Accidentally made an expansion, eh?”
: “I wasn’t being rash, I swear–something happened.”
: “The annex belongs to you just as much as it belongs to any of us. I’m just—well. I guess I accidentally unlocked? Attached the annex in the first place so.” She reaches up very tall on her tiptoes and attempts to ruffles his hair. She probably mostly just messes with his ear.
: “So belay what I was going to say about being concerned about accidentally creating a room.”
chuckles, and obediently bends so that she can ruffle his hair–which is really getting quite shaggy. “I do quite wish to show it to you. It’s rather extraordinary.”
: “Yeah real pot and kettle bit right there.“
: “Well. Then. I suppose we have our venue for when we next talk.” She ruffles his shaggy hair vigorously, while making a rude gesture in Jorule’s direction with her other hand.
ꙮ Until then, time to rest for a while, in this strange spot between worlds.