Skip navigation
Library

The Dusk Era

98 replies [Last post]
YH
YH's picture
Offline
Joined: 06/28/2010

 

 

 

 

The sky shed a shining tear, which screamed down its dusky cheek to perch atop the black mount with a sound of thunder. The tear, a seamless orb of unblemished brass, hovered exactly a cubit above the bowl-shaped well it had struck into the ebony stone. The smell of ozone wafted from its surface, which crackled with static arcs that, serpent-like, licked the surrounding air.

Like the exquisite object d'art of a master thief's magnum opus, the bronze sphere waited there to be discovered.

♦ ♦ ♦

In a darkness beyond mere mortal lack of light not far away, a small figure sat hunched, cross-legged in a translucent dome of shadow that whispered between four great black pillars. From time to time red lightnings jumped with sharp snaps and faded into the walls around him. His bone-white skin was drawn, dirty and haggard; laced with black tattoos that pulsed crimson in time with the discharge. His clothing was all tatters of once-fine silks of black and red.

The Oldest of Old worked a consistent look, he thought to himself idly. There wasn't much left to think. He snapped his fingers tunelessly and tittered. A mildly irritated smirk played across his face. His lips were stone-grey and pocked with old marks from when he was first learning his own power. Had he been one for piercings, he would have placed iron bolts there when they happened. He seemed to recall the Paravant favoring that look upon a time, or was it her lover Mor?

When the single clap of the impact rang through the cave, the hollow grunted. Leon jumped to his feet, his brain sizzling to life far slower than it once would have. The lightnings grew weaker but more regular as he vented the power that tore at him.

"What comes?"

Something has bitten my tail, said the mountain in a mind-voice only he could hear. No one I have allowed to pass.

"We're both slipping in our old age," Leon said, shrugging. "Well, I can put the call out to some of the people we knew from back when, but there's no telling who else might pick it up."

What will they do, if something that can pass my ward is hostile? the mountain asked.

"Well, probably die. Or talk their way out of it. Or maybe something else. If they're half as resourceful as the ones from the old eras, then bugger if anyone knows what'll happen."

Very well. I will allow anyone with the touch of your mind to pass. Hurry, I will put the barrier down for a moment.

"I hate this part—" Leon said, and the shadows passed. Immediately the coils upon coils of serpentine body were illuminated by a scarlet glow and Leon fell to his hands and knees as his own power began to tear at his body. The scream of a woman who was not there echoed through the shelter of the leather wings as he cast his thoughts down. My friends, come up, come up to me.

The claws closed around him again and the light was sucked away into them, and the darkness ruled again as Leon lay bleeding and panting on the ground.

♦ ♦ ♦

Rufo lay on the slanted mirror surface of a soulgem dispensary, soaking in the last rays of the setting sun. His tail hung over the edge of the roof where one of his cousins, still a kitten, jumped at it and tried to catch it like a rope.

The Ohmes-raht's clothes were new. His eyes were closed, his almost-human face the picture of relaxation. Sky-chariots flung overhead, flying by magic from one end of the metropolis to another, casting rainbows through the streets from the prisms on their bellies.

When the shadows started creeping, he opened his eyes. The sun passing behind the mountain was always a sight to see. Like no other mountain in the world, it bent the light backwards as the sun passed, casting a shadow where there was nothing to cast one. In Midtown, the massive white obelisk reflected the shapes in shadow-dramas that drew people from all corners of the world nightly. The play of shadows and rainbows began, and he pulled his tail up and scratched his nose with it.

He thought nothing of the thunder on the mountain at first. Just a bolt from the blue, he figured. But the shadows changed soon after, a claw unraveling to show a man.

The next thing he knew, it was dawn and he had a splitting headache. There was only one word he could remember from the blast of energy that had thrust into his mind: Come.

Laria's picture
Offline
Joined: 06/28/2010

Ivy woke and sat up in bed, stirred by something she could not name. She knew who it came from, though, and knew it could not be ignored. Lifting her arms above her head, she comfortably stretched, allowing herself to wake up slowly. The night before had been long, as usual, but it did not bother her. It was a habit she picked up as a child, after she had quickly learned the night was not something to fear.

Beside her, still cozy under the covers, an orange ball started to move.

"Sorry to wake you," the blond half-Elf said softly as she stretched again.

Not your doing, the ball answered as it lifted its furry head to look at her. It's fluffy tail swept back and forward. It has been nicely quiet for so long. When you finally think the whole mess has passed, he shows up.

She smiled. It had always been clear to her Brasil liked Leon more than he wanted to admit. She, however, loved him more than anything.

"Well, I'm going, if that is what he wants. Will you join me?"

No way, not ever, Brasil answered and shook his head so vividly it made her chuckle. I'll return to your mother and stay clear from this one. At least with her I know what to expect.

"And she cooks for you, too."

Brasil scoffed and turned to lay down again. You'll see, when this is over, you'll be wishing you never went.

She chuckled again and planted a kiss on the cat's forehead, before stepping out of bed and letting the magic gently lower her down to the floor.

 

♦ ♦ ♦

 

A figure with a black cowl pulled over his head sat at the far end of the bar and downed his glass. With a nod, he shoved it towards the bartender and asked for another one.

"Not to bother you, sir," the man whispered nervously as he poured in a dark red liquid, "but we do not have a lot of this stuff. If you just--"

A growl interrupted him and the man backed away with a startle. No one else in the tavern reacted, either not being interested or too smart to be. "If you don't want me to go get it somewhere else, mortal, you keep serving."

The man nodded and quickly moved towards another customer, pretending to be busy.

Olaf picked up his glass again. He had been wasting two days in this town already and still no sign of the bastard. One more day, then the reward was no longer worth it. His hand stopped in mid-air as a strange sensation suddenly overwhelmed him. Around him the room grew dark and he felt someone pull on the corner of his mind, demanding his attention. It was over in a few seconds and it took him several more before he understood what had happened. Another, more frustrated growl escaped his lips and he continued his drink in an ever worse mood than before.

After all those years he had been searching, after he had long given up the chase, now he had found him.

Fugu23's picture
Offline
Joined: 06/28/2010

"Not quite what you envisioned, is it?" Jeres lifted his visor up from his skullhole and turned about at the disturbance. A stout brown man with the beard of a Breton was staring at him out the bottom of a tassled cap.

 

"I would say fairly accurate, considering I didn't know what to expect." The implement hovering over his face clamped back into its magnification mode as he moved his fingers delicately along the rotted slabs of mottled brass, sparking the metal out existence in a waterfall of magma whose chroma covered regions of time and space he couldn't describe.. As dumb and technical as the task seemed, precise and indeterminable movement was required to successfully perform the operation. Factors like the gush of a door being opened and the shift of the Aetherian braise had to be taken into account. It was the reason his arms and face were currently engulfed in a contraption as intricate and artefactual as the one he was mauling.

 

He could tell the Breton was smiling under his tan. He always was. Words left more often through his nose than between those wired jaws. "They were smart, weren't they?" He seemed to pause for thought. "The Dwemer, I mean."

 

"Yes, but elves are still elves," Jeres mumbled as he made two more incisions about a round, grooved plate forged over a gearbox. "Their brains will be ever smaller than their ambition."

 

The fat man chuckled as he walked out, taking it as some kind of joke for which the click of the latch was his only reply. For Jeres, words were never spoken if they didn't have a reason to be heard. He wondered, then, why he had even responded to the Breton. Perhaps it was because he was his boss. Or maybe he had grown a perverse fondness for knowing the man would never understand anything of what he worked for.

 

A tremor dusted his incisor into the edge of a warped cog. The Redguard cussed loudly and tore the mask off his face, inspecting the smoking damage. That was irreparable and very subject to reprimand. He rubbed his eyes and decided to break. Cracking open a bottle of sujamma over a sooty tunic he sat down. In front of him the dimly glowing assembly was all there was to be seen, dark and red, haunted.

 

Soon.

Bibliophael's picture
Offline
Joined: 01/03/2011

 

Grey waves gnawed the rocky shore. The bearded man sat cross-legged, his muscles cramped from his long imprisonment. For a time, he had screamed and yelled and torn at his chains, but as the years wore on his voice grew hoarse and the cold metal rings at his ankles and wrists left deep red scores in his dark skin. Now he sat in silence, his bonds draped heavily across his chest and knees, and stared out at the restless ocean. There was no horizon, only the imperceptible border between grey water and grey sky.

In his mind there was no room for coherent thought. He was consumed utterly by the despair and horror of his situation. Everything he had ever loved, everything he had ever stood for, everything he ever was had been taken from him. He had been mighty, once, but the long, cold years of isolation and deprivation had robbed him of his wits, his memory and his name. All he knew now was that he hated himself, he hated this beach and he hated the ocean before him.

He sat there and stared, mind lost in a turmoil of unutterable madness. There was no sound beside the hiss of surf. Then he heard the voice. Its signal rang beautiful and clear within the static roar of his confused thoughts. It offered an invitation. Blinded though he was by doubt and fear, he grabbed hold of it and rose, up from the hard earth, out of the cold chains, away from the dark ocean. The world dissolved around him and everything went dark.

The bearded man awoke. He was lying on his back beneath a blue sky. He sat up and laughed. He had no idea where he was, who he was or what was happening, but he was free. At long last.

 

The darkness should have felt like home. She supposed that was deliberate. The whole situation reeked of irony, but in this case it failed to amuse her.

Mentiri skulked through the winding paths of the void. When the Web-Spinner took her, she had fought and scratched and bit but without the power of the old bones she had been as helpless as the others. She had tried to win through guile what she had lost to strength, but Mephala was no fool and wove webs faster and more subtly than she could cut the strands. The game had gone on for a long time now, but her patience was legendary for a reason. The two continued to battle, hiding in the shadows, striking in subtle and crafty ways at the designs of the other. It was with some irritation, then, that she felt the voice, but as its words resonated against her mind she paused in her pursuit and smiled. A loophole. She seized the invitation and knotting it around her waist let it carry her into nothingness and out the other side, laughing at the outraged face of the spider below.

 

The pain was indescribable. Jagged teeth of black stone pierced his flesh and suspended him above a pit of roaring flames. The laughter of demons echoed around him. His screams had long since given way to pitiful moans and his thoughts were slow and difficult. Even the rage, the hatred by which he had been known, was subsiding. He no longer knew who he was, he no longer understood why he was being subjected to this torment, he only wished, vaguely and hopelessly, to escape.

The flames danced across his twitching skin and the spikes upon which he was impaled were twisted sharply, sending his crippled limbs jerking in unnatural directions. He gritted his teeth for a moment before his strength gave way and his jaw slumped back. There was no fight left.

The voice stirred in his thoughts with startling clarity. So desperate was his need to be free that he barely noticed as his mind latched onto its tug of invitation. Suddenly, he felt his ruined body sliding free of the barbed hooks that they had buried in his flesh and he dissolved into darkness, confused and uncertain.

When he woke he was lying on a flat surface. The scars of his trial remained etched across his bare flesh, but the pain was gone. He didn't know how he was alive or by what power he had been brought here, but breathing deeply, he felt a familiar warmth return to his heart and he grinned into the blue before passing out once again.

Jeroic's picture
Offline
Joined: 06/28/2010

"Ah, smeg." Leon said out loud as he fell to his back and stared at the interminable blackness of the ceiling. He could see in the dark, make out every pit and scar on the ancient surface, and the dark comforted him as the shadows wrapped around his limbs. "I think I did more than I should have."

It was your decision, for good or ill.

Leon sensed the familiar pull as his energy was dragged off into the shadow and the mountain continued its slow climb. He sighed and slept as the shadows drank deep of him.

#####

Rufo clawed into the bark of a tree to mark his path, and for... whoever that had been meant for. Something deep in his heart told him the message to come had not been for his ears, but something else deep down compelled him, pulled his feet through the wood that stretched the five miles between city and mountain. 

The forest was not thick, and had little undergrowth, but to his urban eyes everything looked the same. He had a Locator, but the device, a small green crystal with a hollow holding a red needle, had stopped pointing East as soon as he stepped out of the city and popped it's needle onto the ground. He checked his timekeeper and saw that it had stopped as well. He pulled the red bag from his back and took out his gel-speaker. The blue slime had melted off and left a nasty stain. He left the bag on the rocky dirt. It seemed like the rumors of the mountain somehow interfering with magic the closer it came were true.

Through the trees, though, he could still see the immense mountain dark as the void ahead, a single massive fang pointed skyward. 

He came to the base of it well before noon. Somehow, he wasn't surprised when the stones shifted and formed a path in front of him, smooth, winding and inviting. He began to climb.

Laria's picture
Offline
Joined: 06/28/2010

Ivy walked calmly on the road, taking her time to look at everything around her. Growing up in the shadow of the mountain made that she knew it well, even though she never had been up to it. It had always felt like an old guardian watching over them, although the people in town might not agree. As she went on, she softly hummed a song which she remembered from her childhood, a long time ago. She knew the words, but did not know their meaning. It was old; older than her.

As she past a tree, she looked at the mark carved into it briefly, faintly recognising it, not knowing how. She felt as if she did not need guidance, however. She just followed her own feet while listening to the song in her head and the voice who accompanied it.

She reached the end of the path and the start of another one, which seemed to be formed right before her eyes. A low pounding as of a heartbeat filled her ears and then her whole body, and she stopped for a moment to close her eyes. With a smile, she sent out a mental greeting to the stone; a simple ritual she had inherited from her mother.

Then she continued, content and peaceful. Ready for whatever--or whoever--she would find.

Bibliophael's picture
Offline
Joined: 01/03/2011

The bearded man got to his feet and looked around. He stood on a flat shelf of dark rock about halfway up an enormous mountain. Below, the slope was an empty expanse of black stone. Rock. Mountain. Slope. He knew the words. They leapt joyfully to mind like fish from a stream. It was a delight to articulate such clear, shining thoughts after the foggy isolation of the grey shore. There was a name, as well. Anaak. His name.

Anaak rubbed his head. Beyond that, there was nothing. No...something. Before the shore, before the chains...the last thing he remembered was the sight of the laughing man. Who...? Before that...explosions, the collapse of something mighty, a long fall into the light below. What, where, why? When?

He looked up to the distant peak and smiled, worthless ruminations pushed to the side. What use was the past? He was free, he was strong and there was a mountain to conquer. He began to climb.

 

Mentiri knew who she was. She had never forgotten. She emerged beneath the toppled fragments of an enormous boulder and stood still, savoring the freedom and strength of the bone-plane. Oh, how she had missed it in Mephala's web. It had been foolish to seek the Daedra's aid after the Day of Dust. This time would be different.

Mentiri sniffed the air. It was thick with a strange magic unlike anything she had felt before. Something rich and heady. Something worth taking. Worth destroying. She grinned like a troll in an orphanage. Yes. This time would be very different.

She examined her surroundings. The cave in which she had appeared was a narrow crevice on the side of a desolate mountain. No trees or undergrowth dusted the slope and no noise disturbed the quiet.

Taking a cross-legged seat on the floor of her cave, Mentiri held up a hand and examined its skin. Ash. A parting gift of the Web-Spinner's, perhaps, or maybe the effect of a more subtle influence. It mattered little. She would find a way to turn it to her advantage.

She closed her eyes and slowed her breathing to a stop. Turning her mind this way and that, she probed at the world around her, testing its seams and edges. The magic was powerful here, and strange. Palean might have recognized it, but he was probably dead by now, the wise fool. She could feel a mind within the mountain, as well, pulsing slowly beneath the surface. A wary, strong mind, and old, perhaps even as old as she. It's relative strength was yet to be determined.

After some time, she looked up to see a mortal climbing the slope below. Some kind of Khajiit, it seemed. Well, that was just fine. Mentiri stood and after a brief struggle against the background thaumic interference wove herself a silk robe of blue and green from the sun's waning light. Then she stepped out of the shadows and descended to meet the young Khajiit, a pleasant smile warming her face.

Jeroic's picture
Offline
Joined: 06/28/2010

The ground didn't really feel like ground, Rufo thought as he made his way up the path.It was too smooth, and had a bit of give to it like fine leather. Whatever had called him had "primed" him. The fact that stones were sucked down into the ground or pulled aside to make the easiest passage possible did not trouble him. He just felt pressured at each step to take the next. 

After he had climbed for some time he saw a human-shaped figure in silk coming towards him, stark and out-of-place against the unbroken black of the mountain. "Did you feel it too?" he shouted up, not stopping his stride. 

Fugu23's picture
Offline
Joined: 06/28/2010

Over the course of several months Jeres had slowly and categorically eviscerated the beast upon his table. The golden-hued alloy was starting to seem like a ruse, as he neared the object of such meticulous, eternal precision. Each cog, spring and five-sided bearing seemed to have it's own hue and texture — some were warm to the touch, and others coated in prickles of foul-smelling glass that melted on contact. Each layer in the mechanical torso seemed built to a different purpose, part of a different machine stratified over the same spot. According to the textbooks, it was the final layer. A metal unlike the others, engraved with dwarven lettering as if it was a cornerstone and polished so smooth he could watch the sweat bead along his nose as he lowered down an iron-clad hand to remove it.

 

Large tubes pulsed under the force of the jettisoning blast of hot steam, but the plate seemed dismissive of the hot-mouthed conversation his fingers blurted out. For a moment, the Redguard was stunned, the frightening drops of sweat pooling on his chin lapped up in a confused resolution. The gears in his arm whirred as he tilted his hands sidelong to the surface and fired. The immense force ripped the steel from its fuselage, tattered and bent along the floor, its once-proud stature whimpering somewhere unseen. The misdirected steam knocked over a table full of labeled parts beside him, the violent clash of screaming dense mass deafening him.

 

But the fat man and his guild could go to hell. Inside the vessel, underneath that mirror sheen and that petillant grease a form more beautiful than any woman or sweet-scaped vista, a machine of such simple complexity that he had no fathoms as to how it had remained untouched for so long. Like an adventurer stepping into a tomb sealed with the must of milennia, his movements were slow and cautious, the dimly glowing chasm like the far end of a tunnel.

Laria's picture
Offline
Joined: 06/28/2010

Ivy moved on further and further, feeling how the bare mountain seemed to breathe under her feet. She kept humming, one song after the other, as many as she still remembered. It made the journey seem faster, and on top of that, it was plain fun.

♦♦♦

As slow as he could go, the mercenary followed the trail of stone, branch and grass. He could not see the people he was following, but their scent was everywhere and he knew well which signs to read. He prefered to keep his distance, hoping that if he had to meet them, it would be at the last moment, so he had not to go through the bother of introducing himself.

Something in the back of his mind told him this was a mistake, that he should simply turn around, leave and not look back. His curiosity was too strong, though, and he felt a small spark inside him which forced him to continue. He had to find out what the hell was going on and why it had to happen now.

As he came at the foot of the mountain, he stopped. It was black. Not gray and white, but black. Olaf felt strange, as if something could jump out of the shadows and drag him in forever. He should never have come, he knew, this would definitely never be worth it.

Bibliophael's picture
Offline
Joined: 01/03/2011

Anaak gritted his teeth as he scrambled over another boulder. There was something strange about the mountain. He could feel it somewhere in his bones. A discordant hum deep inside his core. It troubled him, but he continued to climb.

After a time, he noticed the slope begin to decline. He quickened his pace. The scattered deposits of heavy, black stone thinned out and the smooth surface of the mountain was laid bare. Quelling his misgivings, Anaak clambered over one last ledge and pulled himself onto the windswept summit. He looked around...

 

The Khajiit had noticed her. Looking up from his path, he called out "Did you feel it too?" Mentiri suppressed a grimace. It was always difficult talking to mortals. Forcing her expression to remain benevolent, she waved in response and yelled "The call? Yes. Where do you think it came from?" The Khajiit's accent and clothing belonged to no culture she was familiar with. How long have I been out?

Fugu23's picture
Offline
Joined: 06/28/2010

It was as if he had glimpsed air under the earth, the breath of Kyne where none could breathe, a lung entrapped in what is cold and dead. Beauty was not a word for it, natural did not come to mind. The piece seemed as though it was, as though it had always been, but in his head he knew it was not. Outstretched, his metalled fingers waved their way through the opening, grasping at the finality of an era-long scope. Blood spouted from out his throat, a sudden gush, and his limp body fell away from his long work completed.

 

The Dwemer's sleeve let him loose, and the Redguard made a soft, heavy noise as he met the floor. Drips of dark satin slipped off the tip of a shaken blade, pattering gently the face and it's environs. "Good."

A gilded boot tapped gently against the corpse's side. "Dispose of it quickly."

As soon mentioned, coated hands gripped Jeres' arms, and dragged him back into the darkness. The Altmer stood alone in the heat-glow, his face cast in a violent, proud painting of a moment in history.

He spread his arms wide and began his incantations. A thud shot through Stros M'Kai. The Thalmor's finger trembled, waiting for the right moment to press the button. The chrome plate rattled against the floor as the stone began to shiver. Another thud jolted the fortress. Inside the beast, the strings began to tug, wailing bright tunes though they were of pain. The thud came once more, settled itself, and played a rythmn like a million distant footsteps all at once. Lights exploded across a bronzed surface as bright as the Sundered Seat, spiraling upwards into the cavernous reaches without end. The rolling beads and gyrating pistons threw their motions, animating the husk in false tendons and bones. The rattling plate ceased its spewing, and shot sparked onto where it had come, the steel remaking itself, Jeres' long work undone. All the dense heads and balls and splines and pinions rose from the fallen table and clicked back into their place. It was then that the raucous steel stood, its purpose glinting deep within what called as its cap.

The tremors ceased, as the twin little stars focused their blaze on Caelindir; who smiled quietly, contentedly, while he was infabricated.

Jeroic's picture
Offline
Joined: 06/28/2010

Rufo kept his pace even as the path cleared itself. "It definitely came from near the top of the mountain," he called. "I couldn't say who or what sent it. I think... I think it was a human. We can walk up together, I think."

#####

We have a problem, the mountain said. It seems your little call has touched quite a number of people.

"About how many?" Leon asked, sitting up. The shadows billowed around him as he discharged again. His magics had returned to levels that did not feel like thousands of knives bursting from his skin. 

Let's say it's enough that it would be easier on me to just drop the ward than to focus on holding it open in so many different places.

"That bad?" Leon asked, scratching his chin. He draped his arms over his crossed legs and sighed. "Very well then, let's just-"

There was a ringing in Leon's ears, a tiny distraction, then a scream across the fabric of reality. His aura burst crimson around him in flashes before being devoured by the shadows, and the mountain itself shuddered once. Leon ground his teeth as he cast his thoughts across the sea towards the thought-beacon. 

"That might be a bigger problem than I figured for, make a mental note." He muttered. far away in Hammerfell, something harsh and unnatural stirred. 

Laria's picture
Offline
Joined: 06/28/2010

Ivy stopped as she felt a shudder go deep into her core. Cold. All of a sudden she seemed outside during winter with heavy snow coming down on her. It passed  in a few seconds, but instinctively her hands started glowing to warm herself up.

She quickened her pace. It was clear something had happened and now she wished to be at her destination as soon as possible. Someone had some explaining to do.

♦♦♦

Olaf cussed and put his feet firm on the ground, in an attempt not to lose his balance. The mountain had trembled. An earthquake? Unlikely. He looked up at the peak of the giant and calculated the distance. Behind everyone else, but almost there.

"What did you get yourself into this time?" he muttered angrily as he moved on.

Fugu23's picture
Offline
Joined: 06/28/2010

A final sputtering of stone rolled off the angular curves of the dwemer machination. The entirety of Stros M'kai bulged screaming off its carapace and burst into the ocean. The unchained stream of Akatosh's Ocean bubbled up and chewed on the grit of a thousand islands, but the air was silent and still. It seemed to pause a moment as it stood, a tower unaffixed to the soil. Grinding and humming and chirring, its head snapped to direction. Innumerable Jills took to their pens and wrote to the Head words that made him warm and soft and malleable and grafted into his very soul a love for creation unlike any that could have been seen before.

So strong was his love that his feet moved on heedless, sloshing the ocean about as if it were a puddle, bridled with steam-water and baked-on blood clots from bleeding dragons.

Base One.

The ending of the numbers is [NUMINIT].

It is impossible to start when your system is inadequate — necessary but not sufficient, impossible to derive into and integrate out of. We're stuck. Stuck with nothing else to do. It's so boring, so incomplete, when the problem comes close to being solved and the variables themselves change the moment you take off your glance. Like a text that reads differently every time it's cracked.

So what are we to do but this? Painful, I know, but love is often painful. And messy. Sometimes it can even be... violent. But we're sure you won't mind.

Not that that matters.

With all my devotion,

 ̴̨̨̬̺̗̤͓͓͈̱̗̪͍͖ ̶̢̣̳͍͓̻̩͚̤̜̝̜̙ͅͅ ̵̢̨̡̻͔͓̻̞̪͇̺̪͇ ̵̡̞̗̲͈̙̦͙͇͖̹̘̩ ̸̢̢̮̭̯̗̦͍͔̹͙̬̫͓̻ ̵̢̤̤̫̺̺̖̜̲͈̫̣̳͜͜ ̶̨͎̯̰̹͕͉̣͇̥͙̯̟̠͜ ̸̡̨̫̘̺̜̭̣̯͓͖͕̜͙͎ ̸̢̲̦͍̳̫̗͎̞̰̟̙̳̳ ̴̧͙̖̖̥̦͓̠̹͖̫̗̩̘͜ ̷̢̦̺̼̤̼̺̬͉̮̝̤͕̪͜  ̶̨̨̨̮̹̖͎̰̮̫̤̱̫̩ͅ ̷̡͈̦͙̺̭̬̱̥̙̰͜ͅ ̷̢͎̜̭̖̭͓̞̭͖͔̺̦ͅͅ ̵̨̧̨̦͍̩̰͉̼̲̻̞̼͙ ̸̧͔̫͖͉̙͉͕̜͙̗̖͜ͅ ̵̨̧̺͕͉̖̫͎͚̫̼̱̺͙ ̵̡̨͍̳͉̦͉̯͎͔͚͓̜͎ ̶̨̢̧̨̟̠͎̹͚̪̙̭͙̮͜ ̸̧̪͈͈͓̪̪̼̳̬͍͍̯
̴̡̧̢͇͈̙̼̻̞͔̪̙͉͜ͅ ̸͉̼̖̰͔̭̻̭̙̣͕̣ͅ ̶̡̦̰̮̬̞̗̟̹̝̲̪̲͈͜ ̷͉̜̬̝̺͖̭̘͚̯̰̖̠̟ͅ ̴̢̡̡̜̲̦̜̻͔̦̗̟̤͖͜ ̸̧̩̫̩͈͍̥̗̜̯̻̱͓̮͎ ̵̢̨̻͈͎̲̜͓̫̘̙͖̹̜ ̷̺̫̮̺̫͔̖͙̫̺͕̞̬̰ ̵̡̨̧͚͚̗̪̰̞̬̺̙̯̱̞Ç̸̢̳̙̯̭̻̖͍̹̻̰͜ͅ  ̶̳̰͖̮̦͍̟̦̤̜͉̝ͅͅ  ̵̟̲͖̞̗͉̺̻̰̺̤͜͜ͅ ̶̡̬̭̤̹̮̻͖̲̘͉͍̰ͅͅ  ̶͓̼̦̞͕̲͇̣͎̥ͅͅͅ ̷̡̨̫̮̪̲̥̤̮͎̠̪̘̹ͅ ̵̢̡̰̩̲̝̝̞̺̫͎͜ͅ ̸̡͓̝̰͖̻͉̫̪̯̯̘̖ͅ ̸̧̰̥̭͕̻̥̼̬͈͚̜ͅͅ ̷̧̜͍̯̝͓̖̪͎̦̦̦ͅ
̶̦̳̯̳̖̹̘͕̩̪̝̼̹ ̵̢̗͎̭͎͈̗̳͔̹̘̬͖̮͜ ̶̻̘̱̣̫̦͕̤̜̙̘̺͉̱̳ H̴̨̧̭͓̫̰̘͍̳͎̹͓͙ͅ ̶̺̳̲̖͕̱̳̖̮͈͇̲ͅͅ ̸̨̰͇͍͇̺͈̞͔̦̩̤ ̵̫̞̞̯̬̹̙̰̬̗̬̰̗͚ ̷͎̭̮͎͕̹̻̤̹̤̬͎̭̻͈ ̶̧̨̯͉̙̱͚̝̩̹̝̺͜ ̶̧̨͔̤̩̭͇͙̬̻̞̺͍̳   ̸̧̢̡̧͔̦̮͚̹̣̘ ̵̖͕͇̣̝̥̼͙̞̳̪͕̞͈̯  ̴̢̬̯̖͖̻͖͎̳̮̪̻̟ ̶̡̡͇̮̖̰͚̤̳̗͔̯̳̜͈ ̴̧̧̢͇̘̙͇̩͉̯̼͕̗ ̴͚̖̯̩̦͙͇͈̼͇̘̫͍̘ ̸̨̼̥̠͙͎͓̘̼̣̦̬̳̯̙ ̶̫͍̖̣͎̻͖̞̬͍̩͎͚̖̺ ̸̢̤͇̱͖̹̲͉̟̥̜͖̮ ̸̢̮̟̲̦̫̬̙̗̺̻̖̺̣̱ ̵̧̨̨̞̙̟̯̙̣̤͈̤͜ ̶̩̟̫̤̰͚̪̬͎̪̫͎̞
̶̡̨͎̞̳̞͔̮̻̯̟͚̜̱ ̵̨̥̦͎̙̭͇͔̖̰͙̗̭͙͜ ̵̝̲̭̜̜̝̦̫̮͚̣̱͚ͅͅ ̴̨̢͕̹͇͕̲̗̠̟̮̥̤͖͜ ̵̨̧̺̻͍͍͕̝̤͈̘̪̖ ̶̨̢̨̤͖̺̹͈͈͍̹̤̱̮ ̷̧̮̫̟̭̺̜̤̜̩͎̙̣͜ ̸̯̖̘̙̟̬͉̦͈̻̹͎͓ͅ    ̷͖̥̘̱̬̜̖̞̜̘͉̣͜͜  ̴̢̢̝̖͙͓̫̯͖̖͉͇̳̭ ̶̨̱̼̩͓͚̖̱͔͓̺̤̺̭ͅ  ̷̡̧̰̤͔̳̘͈̖̺̖ͅ ̸̧͔̤̝͈͇̦͎͉̮͉͜ ̴̢̹͙̺̥̮̞̮͈̤̤̙̺̞ ̶̯̜̼̫̼̘̱̥͍̻̻̖͈̳ ̷̨̢̡͙͚͓͉̪͕̝̮͕̱̬͜ ̷̨̢̢͉͉͔̟͔̞͕͜͜͜͜ͅ ̴̧͖̠̫̫̞̲̥͍͕̼͓͈̗̦I̴̩̥͓̹̳̳̳̠͎͚̭̹̝̣
̵̢̧̧̮̺̦͔̞̼̠̩̗̘̗͎ ̷̢͚͈̮̦̖̮̼̦̩̙͇̣̹ ̶̣̹̼͚̭͈̺̪̰͎̞̜ͅ ̷̧̡̤͚̯̲̟̙̱̼͕̜͕̯M̵̧̤̺̰̮̱͓̺̬̳͚̙̘̲͕ ̶̧͔̻̖̼̤̟͓̻̣͙̥̻ ̷̧̢̡͚̟̰͈̖̜̼̹̰̞̖͇ ̵̢̧͉̻̘̥̗̹̺̝̝̼͜͜  ̶̩̦͕͈̹͍̜̝͕͙̖̮̜̮ͅ ̷̡͙̟̰̞̪̳͓͎̺̤͕ ̴͎̭̦͉̼̞̫̭̗̟̬̻ͅ ̵͍̩̞̦̺͓͇̭̠̫̱̟̥̯̘  ̶̜̭̹̹̟̪͕̖̳̩̯̖͓ ̵̧̹̭̙̯͙̗̱͓̣̤̳̜̗̰ ̵̡̻̳̥̫̺̥͇̱̙̬̤͔̹  ̶͕̲̱͎̘̱̤̮̘̰̪͈͖̥̮ ̵̝̖͙̞̮̮̬͎͍̖̦̺̤̰ ̸̧̢̦͙͎͙̝̙̲̱̯̠͖͕ ̴̢̢̰͍̜̪̮͎̤͔̣̼̲̰ͅ ̴̡͉̟͚͎̙̖̱̦͔͉͙̤͓̩
̴̬͈̘̼̦̮̰̹͉͓͇͔̩̜͍ ̵̨̡̬͈̝͈͇̤̥̪͙̼͖̤̻ ̵̡̫̗̙̱̱͉̻̳̖͔̻͚̗̙ ̵̧̧̡̰̠̮̘̟͉̯̭̣̻̼̜ ̶̤̬̦͍͕̹̜̞̞̙̳̙ͅ ̵̡̡̫͖͔̞̹̘̫̫̠̭̟͜ ̵̢̙̭̣̣̣̮͍̰̘͎̜͜ͅͅ  ̶̧͍͚͔̭͈̳̼͕̝̟̟̯͜ͅ ̶͙͕͙̭͙̳̬̩̠̪̪̻̲̖͕ ̵̢̨̨̫͙̯͉̳̰̙̲͙̣͕̜ ̶̢̻͙̫̝͇͉̱͚̥̹̞̙̬N ̶̨̥̤̼̰̖̙̙̙̺̘̫͜ ̴̨̯͇̥̮̫͈̙͕̗̪̳͓̬ ̸̢̲̫̟̹̩̭̗͉̲̟͔͈̙̯ ̵̨̨͈̱̩͔͇̩̩̖̣͙̝̖ ̴̫̤̼͇͕̮̣͓̞̺̬̝̗̠̙ ̴̡̨̞͇̘̺̻̫̳͔͉͈̺̳̰ ̴͉̮͉̹̜̲̗̥̪͔̦͙̹ͅ ̷̢̨̻̹̜͔͇̥̥̩̩͇͖̗̩
̶̡̧̻̜̻̝̫̜̟̩̲̝̻̝ͅ ̶̧͈̜͖̝͓͇̳͔̺̫͙͕͚ͅ ̷̨̧̢̩̟̗͉̥̯͙͇͉͔̠͜ ̵̯̫̝̰͇̤͇͚͍̤̲͍̹͜ ̷̡̖̬̣̩̟̬̰̹̥̪͎̦ͅU ̷̧̘̼͚̬̭̼̘̙̮͇̘̗ͅͅ ̶͍͓̳͙̩͎͙̲̭͈͎̫͓ͅ ̴͍̩̤̜̞̮̲̱̺̩̫͉͔̠ͅ ̸̢̧̺͔̟̞̞̫͇̥̩̱̭͜ ̵̢̰̼̝͉̩̥̗̺̗̼̪̺ ̷̧̨̨̣̱͕͉͎͙̦͖͉̖ ̴̨͈͖͔̺̭͓̼̦̻̖̗͈͔M ̴̶̡̱̣̘͕̜͕̙̦̰̩͉̙̺̜̜̟̦͎͈̙͔̙̖̞̦̘̦͔I ̵̢̢͈̝̼͇̞̫̭̱̭̗͜ ̶̨̧͔̖̣̫͚̜̪̫̪̦̜̩

̷̨̢̧̧̳͙̞͔͙̝̞̖̩̘ ̶̧̥̳̟̤͖̗͙̜̪̼̪̫͕̫N ̸̡̱͖̹͈̣̪̣̭̫̺̫͓̟ ̴̢̼̮̲̰͉͍͉̳̣͚͔͖̰͜ ̷̧̨̰͙̜̙̺͎̪̝͓̠̮͙̘ ̸̨͚̪̣̞̗͉̯̼̟͇͍̣ ̸̧̢̢̥͎̝̳̯̲͔͎̣͕̫̘
̵̨̡̨̻̜̮̪̰̤͎̜̫̻͚͓ ̵̡̫̺̹̞̰̤̭͕̤͔̼͉̻͎ ̵̡̡̻̲̜̥̦̠̪̟̳͔̜ͅI ̶̡̫̲̹̤̺͈̟̼͙͓̟͈̪ͅ ̴̧̡̨̦̺̪̩̠̬͔̫̪͍͜ ̸̟̜̩̗͇͓̥̤͎̬̗͕̥ ̴̢̠̜͇̦͍̬̪̤̪͙͖͈͜ͅ ̴̖̥̥̟̱̗̭̯̖̺͇̰̳͓͓
T

YH
YH's picture
Offline
Joined: 06/28/2010

The sundered soil and sea rang to the tip top of the peak, where the brass egg ceased rolling in its invisible electric basin. A score slowly formed on the outside of the perfectly smooth face, and from it a sliver of golden light slid, tracing squared spirals across the surface in all directions until the orb pulsed with light in the subtle, slow rhythm of awakening. The sound washed down the slopes in sheets like gentle rain.

DOOM                    DOOM     DOOM                    DOOM     DOOM                    DOOM     DOOM

Bibliophael's picture
Offline
Joined: 01/03/2011

Human. What in all the wheels is that? Human. Hu-man. Mentiri didn't ask, just nodded and kept smiling. "I would like that very much," she said. She took up pace beside the Khajiit and watched as the path formed beneath his feet. She was about to ask about this peculiar phenomenon when the earth shook and something like a scream echoed across her mind. From the east. Mentiri clutched her head and cast out with all her senses. The voice was strange, but laced with a familiar echo. Doubts surged through her mind, bringing with them impossible considerations. Who else had survived?

 

Anaak grinned triumphantly at his discovery. The enormous metal orb rotated gently in unseen eddies of magickal force. It was made of some bright metal, and across its perfectly polished surface there arced looping sparks of white-blue energy. The explorer walked a wide circle around the artifact, delighted. Another forgotten word came to mind. Dwarf. But that wasn't right. It was the word, but a wrong word, somehow. If only he could remember.

The mountain quaked and Anaak fell to his knees. Something was wrong. A blaze of darkness momentarily blinded his thoughts and he grimaced. Something was terribly wrong. He stood, shakily distributing his balance across his feet, and saw a thin line of golden light slice through the surface of the orb. Expanding, it traced angular patterns across the gleaming plate as an awful pulse stirred within the core. Something was truly terribly wrong.

 

The third escapee woke to find the ground beneath him shaking. Clambering to his feet, he heard a muted cry and turned to find the source. There was nothing but black rock and sky. Turning away, he saw the mountain, a dark horn of strange rock etched against the horizon. It seemed as good a place to start as any. He climbed.

Jeroic's picture
Offline
Joined: 06/28/2010

Some distance up the mountain, Rufo could not say exactly how far he was from the ground or how long he had been climbing, the path leveled off and opened out into a large basin. On the far side of the bowl yawned a cave as black as night. Deep in the darkness, Rufo saw occasional flickers of red lights. 

"That's it," he said, and quickened his pace, not seeing if his half-noticed companion kept up or not. As soon as he passed into the cavern and the darkness sealed his eyes, full knowledge hit him like a fist. 

"Wha, why am I up here? Why did I just climb that huge mountain with none of my stuff and not say anything to- oh man, I'm such an ass."

"Oh, please tell me you aren't the only ones here," a small voice called from the dark. With a grunt, the crimson light, laced with pink, rose and held steady inside what looked like a thin dome of smoke. "I done fucked your brain up, it looks like."

The man in the dome was unlike any Rufo had ever seen. Short, wire-thin and bone white in his hollow face laced with black tattoos, and with eyes that flickered red, green, blue, grey, pink, orange. His clothes were torn and worn, but black and shiny with enchantment. On the far side of the cave sat a row of gold urns. 

"Oh, and you back there. My friend knows that isn't what you look like. No need to transform to your real shape, it makes no matter. I need to ask a favor of you, since the people I was actually calling haven't arrived yet. Nak, make them some chairs so they can catch their breath."

At his word, the floor of the cave twisted and churned like water a few feet before Rufo, and two leathery black nubs sprouted from the ground and began to shape themselves into seats. The small man's thin white hand stretched out, and Rufo took the seat, curling his tail into his lap. 

"First things first," the small man said, "my name is Leon Neleus, and I am really fucking old."

Laria's picture
Offline
Joined: 06/28/2010

An invisible shield was the only thing which kept Ivy from hitting the ground as her nose was only an inch away from it. She hovered above it quietly, staring at the black in front of her eyes. Her hands she held before her, as if she was pushing against a wall. Then she frowned and pushed harder, until she was fully up and on her feet again. She looked over her shoulder, into the distance, her gaze finding nothing more than open water. This had taken long enough, now was the time to move.

Focusing on the energy within, she lifted her feet off the soil, until she was no longer on it. Something around her resisted and the deep drum returned to her ears. "Who or what does not want me to use the full strength I have?" she asked out loud to no one.

As she looked down, her hands moved with her and like roots, they reached down, into the stone. In a few seconds she had pulled them back, shocked at what she found. There was no stone.

Eyes wide open turned to a smile just as big. "You devil!" she laughed as she looked at the giant towering above her. "Trying to fool me, are you now?"

Her mind broadened and with all her heart, she sent out the strongest love she could imagine.

I am welcome! Take me up!

Jeroic's picture
Offline
Joined: 06/28/2010

Ah, Small One, the mountain said. Until you sent that message, I could not tell which itch was you.

Underneath Ivy, the ground roiled and churned. A long, serpentine tail with a diamond-shaped spade at it's end sprouted from the black and grew. The spade spread out underneath Ivy and began to ascend. 

I must warn you now, Small One, the mountain said, concern lacing its voice as he drew her up to Leon's cave, Ancient's condition has not improved. In fact, were you to enter the shadow dome I have around him you would almost certainly die. As for she who shares his head...

The mountain used no more words, instead sending imprints of hopelessness, fear, despair, rage. The great black spike made it abundantly clear that the spirit inhabiting Leon's mind, in his not particularly humble opinion, was beyond saving no matter what Leon himself thought.

Laria's picture
Offline
Joined: 06/28/2010

Olaf's sharp eyes spotted something moving up with high speed (or at least faster than he was going). When he focused on it fully, he was able to see what it was. With a growl of disgust he looked at the soil beneath him. This thing is alive?

The mercenary muttered something under his breath as he continued his climb. No point in turning back now.

He hissed angrily. "Gonna rip his damn liver out if this ends bad."

♦♦♦

Ivy listened silently to what the mountain had to say, and watch carefully to every image that flashed before her mental eye. There was something familiar about the voice, something soothing. It took her a few seconds to realise what it was: it resembled Brasil's energy. Her parents had never told her about a spirit in the mountain. She smiled as she immediately understood why. If she had known, nothing would have stopped her to come and take a look. And if it was true that it might have killed her, then she was only grateful for their silence.

She enjoyed the presence of the giant. As she came into reach of the cavern, she slowly pushed the images and words to the back of her mind. There they would be safely hidden away, but not forgotten.

Brushing her long blond hair out of her face, she stepped off the spade. "Thank you", she smiled and nodded a greeting to the dark. As she entered the dome, she could hear voices and her heart fluttered when she heard Leon's.

Bibliophael's picture
Offline
Joined: 01/03/2011

Mentiri stepped forward, concealing her vexation. Knows that isn't what you look like. Bah. Very well. An advantage lost, but not a significant one. She smiled and gave a light laugh. "You know how it is. The shape has its advantages, and it does set the mortals at ease." She winked at Rufo. "So. Leon Neleus. You can call me Mentiri. I guess it's no use trying to convince you that's my real name, eh? Ah, well. I guess you're the one who invited us here. I suppose I should thank you. I confess, I was in a bit of  bind from which your signal proved the perfect escape." As she spoke she let her senses waft across the withered man's frame. White skin with black tattoos. Or was it black skin with white tattoos? He felt strong, clever and old. But there was another presence poorly concealed behind his mind. Rage, horror, despair. Someone very angry was trapped inside his head. Well, she could use that. "I would guess again that your friend is the mountain itself? If that even is a mountain. Can it sense how many others answered the call?"

Jeroic's picture
Offline
Joined: 06/28/2010

"No, he can't," Leon said, scratching his forehead with his pinky. "He can tell where people are on him, but he's not good at the whole counting thing. And for the record, there is a mountain under him somewhere, and he's sort of grown around it."

Leon cast his gaze outside the cave mouth as Rufo fidgeted uncomfortably, unsure what to say or do. He finally managed to squeak out, "why did my stuff stop working when I got close?"

"Oh, my friend eats magic, see also this dome. And it looks like another friend is finally here."

Laria's picture
Offline
Joined: 06/28/2010

Her eyes needed a few seconds to adjust to the dark, but as she moved on, she saw it was not simply pitch black. There were soft colors mixed within, although hard to see, as if they were not really there. Ivy wondered if she was actually seeing them, or that her mind was perhaps playing tricks on her.

People came into sight and she let her gaze go over them slowly. There was a Khajiit she vaguely recognised from seeing in town one day. And a woman who she did not know at all, but who had something strange about her. Something magical.

Then she spotted the man, paler and much more thin than she remembered, but still the same. His eyes had not changed. Hers lit up like a flame trying to survive the wind and without thinking, her pace quickened. Somewhere between walking and running, her feet carried her closer, until she was so close it seemed as if she would run him over. As her feet stopped right at the last second before bumping in to him, everything else about her moved. Her arms wrapped tightly, but somehow still gently, around his shoulders and her lips pressed a big kiss on his cheek. She completely ignored the pink and red energy crackling from his skin.

"Poppie!" her voice sang.

Jeroic's picture
Offline
Joined: 06/28/2010

"Okay seriously, what!?" Leon said, rolling his eyes, then winced. The glow from his body dimmed and halted. "You really need to be more careful around the old, small one. Now I would step back, it hurts to bottle this energy up, kind of a -hegagergerk."

As gently as he could manage, Leon pushed Ivy a few steps back and the shadow dome wrapped back around him. A fit of hacking coughs leaped from him as the red lightnings arced back into the shadows. His hands shook and he crouched. 

"Well, at least you're here," he croaked hoarsely when the coughing stopped. "Anyway, do any of you know anything about what's gone and bit Nak's tail?"

Laria's picture
Offline
Joined: 06/28/2010

That was not the reaction she had expected. She knew there was a risk, but how long had it been since she had seen him? She had hoped to get at least a smile out of him. She was certain he knew that if she had known of his presence on Yokuda, not even the mountain could have stopped her from visiting him.

Ivy stared silently at Leon as he recovered from-- something. Then, as he turned his attention to the small group again, she took another step away and moved to sit down. A black chair appeared underneath her. She listened, then spoke. Her disappointment got pushed to the back of her mind with everything else.

"I have no idea what it is, but there was something in the sky, moving down. So apparantly it landed here."

Jeroic's picture
Offline
Joined: 06/28/2010

"All right," Leon said, as his shoulders eased. "And don't think I'm not happy to see you small one, but when a magical dragon three times the size of the mountain he's roosting on tells you to do something, most people would obey first, then wonder about it."

"Wait, we're on a what!?" Rufo asked, jumping out of the chair. "And we're in a what!?"

"Oh, I forget you aren't used to this sort of business," Leon sighed. "Yes, we're in the folds of a dragon so large he can't move who'se been eating my magic to keep me from exploding."

Leon closed his eyes and allowed himself to give off a little more light, and the "cave" came into greater focus: the leathery roof, the jagged spines along the floor, and the ridged scales that made up the lower walls.

Bibliophael's picture
Offline
Joined: 01/03/2011

A dragon! How pathetic to see what must have once been a magnificent creature reduced to sedentary parasitism, feeding off the stray magic of a mortal aberration. Mentiri laughed. "A dragon! How marvelous to imagine that I tread upon the scales of a mighty Dovah. You are a fascinating person, Leon Neleus. But why have you summoned us here? That was quite a loud invitation you sent, just to deal with a thorn in the side of a friend. What's going on?"

Fugu23's picture
Offline
Joined: 06/28/2010

Hello. It's me again.

I feel uncomfortable asking you this. I feel like you won't understand what I'm saying, like it will be the first time you've ever heard someone really speak through all that noise. Stop listening.

Words words words words words words. After a time meaning becomes lost like a giant led astray. Meaning starts walking into walls, tripping over their neighbors and hoarsely trying to apologize but nothing gets heard. I'm very sorry if my words won't get heard. The noises seem inadequate, they feel like nothing coming from my throat. Like I've driven a nail through my bread and spilled my wine. I'm sorry. I am coming. I take my steps even as you don't hear this, and I will be there when it's done with. I'm sorry. You've caused a castrophony so immense for so long that the fractures that are there from the start have begun to scream along with you and you can't even hear them. You can't even hear your gods die.

I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make so much noise. You can start listening again. Things will be sweet and silent soon enough. Be patient, and don't make a sound.

I'll take care of you. Don't worry.

Jeroic's picture
Offline
Joined: 06/28/2010

Leon rubbed his head. The psychic noise off to the east grew louder by the second- whatever or whoever it was. It was irritating her. He would have to send them off soon, so he could calm her down as best could still be done.

"Not a dovah, not exactly. He's... something else," Leon mumbled. "It's just easiest to call him by the form he chose to take," he said, louder. "Anyway, I did call you all here for a reason, and that reason is the dome you see around me. I can't leave it easily, or for long. You two will have to be adequate company for the little one to see what's- ah, I've skipped ahead.

"You see, this mountain has been warded for a long-ass time, since I came here a few centuries ago, to safeguard these." Leon swept his hand back to a row of simple urns laying in a jumble at the back of the cave, mostly hidden among mounds of dragonflesh. "A courtesy only, but they were my friends from eras long past, and the location is convenient for obvious reasons. But something was powerful or plain ballsy enough to ignore the ward and land pretty well near the top of him. I called little one- Ivy- all of my friends still living if they were near enough to hear, and apparently most of Yokuda.

"I need someone to take a look at what's landed up on him, bring it back here for a chat if it's friendly and do whatever seems most reasonable to you all if it's not. Any other questions, I've been doing this sort of thing for a few thousand years and it all bleeds together after a while."

Laria's picture
Offline
Joined: 06/28/2010

Ivy was resting with her head on her hand as she listened to the conversation.

Her mood had changed once again, this time to the calm, content feeling from before. It amused her that Leon still called her small one, and now she understood why the mountain had called her the same. To him, she was still the child from long ago and she loved every bit of it.

Almost subconciously, she brushed with her free hand over the side of her chair. She now understood why the mountain seemed so familiar. She decided to ask Brasil about it some time.

"What if it can not be moved down by us?" she asked, "As far as I know, it did not show any humanoid characteristics yet, it might be just a machine and nothing more."