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From Out of a Dream [Quest]

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  • Wine.... So tempting.....

    But no, our mission is more important. The fate of the Sun Children's souls is more important. Jump over the wall and avoid temptation.


    I write things.

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    • Take the bowl, drink a little, and join the calvacade...so as not to be swept away or seen as defying. But revel slowly, falling to the back, and only then get back to work.


      Like my Avatar? Courtesy of Jen! : Anybody want their characters to be experimented on ? post 98
      An Exalt is never unarmed.

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      • You look up at the sky and raise your bowl to catch the rain. Thick, heavy drops come down in an increasingly thick, heavy downpour. You open your mouth and the red liquid passes over your tongue. It is cool, sweet, and very heady. Wine, unmistakably, but of a flavor and strength unlike anything you ever had before. Soon, the bowl is full. You lower it to your lips and take several deep swallows.

        "{Praise be Caasi Noid!}" is the phrase on everyones' lips. You find yourself shouting it too as you raise your bowl for the heavens to fill along with scores of others. From somewhere comes the sounds of music - strings twanging, horns piping, drums pounding.

        Red rain runs down the ramp, washing scattered flower petals along. The crowd below roars and surges up. The cavalcade above blows their horns and gently rides down. Both engulf you in the middle, a morass of revelry that overwhelms all your senses. The music grows louder as the cavalcade shuffles through the revelers. Many around you start to jig. You find yourself being pushed this way and that until you start dancing too. The whole throng has its own rhythm, and once you learn to match it you are swept away.

        For an indefinite time you drink and dance while the music plays. All manner of creatures stamp around you - humanoids, beasts, and spirits that defy description. The commotion of music, singing, and shouting merges with the overpowering taste and smell of wine along with the sheer heat of the crowd. On some level, you are aware that you are becoming delirious. Your consciousness fades in and out, but you find yourself too ecstatic to care.

        One moment, you are standing on the rocky shoulders of a man who resembles a mountain, struggling to keep your balance as you try to snatch glowing sparks from the air.

        The next, a bald, bat-winged woman - nude from the waist up, with an enormous snake-tail from the waist down - is clutching you tightly, chewing on your beard.

        Then, you find yourself in what you think must be the heart of the whole parade, climbing up onto the side of a silver chariot so wide that it takes ten horses to pull it. An enormously fat man with goat legs sits there in a pile of grapes, laughing and grinning at everything around him. He beckons you to his side, then slaps you on the back so hard you fall right off. His laughter follows you as you hit the ground and roll.

        Later, you are running alongside a creature like an antelope whose horns burn with golden fire. Curious fist-sized spheres with strings are gathered in your arms. When you thrust a string into the burning horns, it catches fire with much sizzling, sparking, and popping. Then you hurl the orb skywards, where it bursts seconds later with an explosion of color and a thunderous boom.

        The last thing you remember is falling from a great height.

        Cold water shocks you awake when you land in it belly-first. Water fills yoour mouth, nose, and eyes. At first, you flail around wildly, trying to push yourself up without any sense of where you are or what your limbs are doing. A few painful seconds later, you regain enough self-awareness to turn your body upwards.
        Then you push with your legs, pull with your arms, and your head bursts from the surface of the water. You choke, cough, splutter, then finally succeed in taking a few breaths.

        You raise your left arm to brush your soaked braids out of your face and realize you are clutching a small wooden box.Something inside it shakes when you move it about.

        You look around, taking stock of the situation. It is now night, although the moon - unnaturally large, or perhaps unnatually close - hanging above provides ample light. You are treading water in an artificial lake, situated on the edge of of a park covered with flowering trees.

        On the other side of the lake, on the shore nearest to you, is a godly palace of ivory, topped with golden minarets. The palace is on fire - smoke and a red-orange glow emanate from its upper windows, and you can hear the roar of the flames carrying over the water.

        Your head aches terribly. Now what?
        • Flee the scene. Whether you started that fire or not, you don't want to be near it.
        • Investigate. You don't know what happened or how you got here, but you won't learn by sitting still or running away.
        • Wait and see what happens. Above all else, you need to regather yourself. Swim to shore, sit for a while, and watch.
        • Something else?
        Last edited by semicasual; 07-22-2016, 08:53 PM.


        On the frontier of the Wild South, there's only one woman with the grit to take on its most dangerous outlaws and bring them Back Alive, or Maybe Dead.

        Avatar by K.S. Brenowitz

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        • Let's investigate, it will keep our mind off our hangover.


          I write things.

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          • What's in the bowl?


            Like my Avatar? Courtesy of Jen! : Anybody want their characters to be experimented on ? post 98
            An Exalt is never unarmed.

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            • Originally posted by L'het'esh View Post
              What's in the bowl?
              You lost the bowl somewhere.

              (Unless you meant the box. We can get into that next post. And while I'm fielding questions from you...)

              Originally posted by L'het'esh View Post
              So, you do what's right by your family and you are blotted out and forgotten?

              Sort of disagrees with the end of the last chapter, where the records say Father left and never returned. It's in the records. nyah nyah, so there, and other childish refutations....
              (I only meant that the internal records of the Bureau are locked up. Can you imagine that the Sidereals really have the time to go around and erase all written records of a person, everywhere, in all Creation and its adjoining worlds? That'd be pretty hardcore. )


              On the frontier of the Wild South, there's only one woman with the grit to take on its most dangerous outlaws and bring them Back Alive, or Maybe Dead.

              Avatar by K.S. Brenowitz

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              • er, what's in the box?


                Like my Avatar? Courtesy of Jen! : Anybody want their characters to be experimented on ? post 98
                An Exalt is never unarmed.

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                • I post Artifacts in this thread. How I make them is in this thread.
                  I have made many tools and other things for 3rd Edition. I now host all of my creations on my Google site: The Vault of the Unsung Hero

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                  • (Do you need to know what is in the box to decide what to do about the burning building?)


                    On the frontier of the Wild South, there's only one woman with the grit to take on its most dangerous outlaws and bring them Back Alive, or Maybe Dead.

                    Avatar by K.S. Brenowitz

                    Comment


                    • My inclination is to Investigate the burning building, even though I'm certain it's a terrible idea (or possibly even because it's a terrible idea). If the box is easy enough to open, however, it might yield something more interesting or urgent.


                      I post Artifacts in this thread. How I make them is in this thread.
                      I have made many tools and other things for 3rd Edition. I now host all of my creations on my Google site: The Vault of the Unsung Hero

                      Comment


                      • (after you get out of the lake) You open the box and find it contains a clear, ovoid crystal about the size of your thumb, resting in a shaped bed of velvet padding. One end of the ovoid has been sharpened to a point, followed by a keen edge. The crystal glows with a strange light that seems painfully bright when you look directly at it, but is tolerably soft when you look slightly away. You touch the stone and feel warmth through your gloves, along with a faint tingling sensation. The feeling is familiar to you, although you do not know from where.

                        (I will copy this into the next post)


                        On the frontier of the Wild South, there's only one woman with the grit to take on its most dangerous outlaws and bring them Back Alive, or Maybe Dead.

                        Avatar by K.S. Brenowitz

                        Comment


                        • Ok, I stick with Investigate.


                          I post Artifacts in this thread. How I make them is in this thread.
                          I have made many tools and other things for 3rd Edition. I now host all of my creations on my Google site: The Vault of the Unsung Hero

                          Comment


                          • With a past like Nergui's, it is likely that the box is stolen from the burning building which was set on fire to cover an escape/hinder pursuit. Paddle away, take inventory to see what has been lost, and move along.


                            Like my Avatar? Courtesy of Jen! : Anybody want their characters to be experimented on ? post 98
                            An Exalt is never unarmed.

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                            • Investigate I guess. Thus is a tough spot but what a party!

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                              • You slowly paddle your way to the near shore, drag yourself up out of the reeds, and spend a few moments retching. When you feel well enough to straighten up, you take stock of yourself.

                                You feel a lot of bruises, especially on your back and arms, but no bleeding wounds or broken bones. You also still have all your equipment, surprisingly1. Everything is soaked, of course, and despite the bath you just had your leathers and hair still smell of heavenly wine. The odor exacerbates your nausea.

                                You open the box and find that it contains a clear, ovoid crystal about the size of your thumb, resting in a shaped bed of velvet padding. One end of the ovoid has been sharpened to a point, followed by a keen edge. The crystal glows with a strange light that seems painfully bright when you look directly at it, but is tolerably soft when you look slightly away. You touch the stone and feel warmth through your gloves along with a faint tingling sensation. The feeling is familiar to you, although you do not know from where.

                                With a sigh, you close the box and start trudging towards the palace.

                                1
                                Every other time you remember getting so drunk was in your nameless years. When you passed out, others would rob you blind. The ensuing rampage for recovering property and revenge usually meant the end of your time in a given township.




                                A large courtyard in front of the palace separates it from the city proper, and a tall hedgerow separates the grassy park from the courtyard. The bushes give you ample cover to approach the entrance to the palace unnoticed. It is unlikely you would be noticed anyway, given the commotion out in front.

                                People, evidently some manner of servant, are running in and out of the building. Those going in carry buckets of water. Those coming out carry pieces of furniture, artworks, or bags that you assume contain valuables. The latter stack their pile their goods onto a growing mound in the middle of the courtyard.

                                A red-skinned giant man sits cross-legged next to the heap - twenty feet tall when standing, you would guess, and crimson as a tomato. He is dressed in elaborate blue, gold, and white robes. Thick, black, curly hair surrounds his face, which has a stormy expression. He is literally fuming - smoke as black as his beard is pouring out of his ears.

                                He is shouting at a much smaller woman in a blue jacket and trousers. She is gripping a sheaf of papers and marking on them with a stylus. She has greying brown hair and a worn face with a wearied expression.

                                "{...A thousand years of sacrifices, turned to ash!}" roars the giant. "{The perfidy of Caasi Noid cannot be endured!}"

                                "{It is known that Caasi Noid did not create the blaze,}" answers the woman, much more quietly. She glances at a servant throwing something onto the saved-goods pile and makes a note on her papers.

                                "{He, or his dipsomaniac followers!}" Sparks fly from the giant's mouth in place of spittle. "{What matters the difference?}"

                                "{What matters the separation of the guilty from the innocent?}" she retorts, moving her hands to her side and looking up at the giant. "{Thou mayest not care for such distinctions, house-fire god, but I would not see the courts of heaven punish one for the actions of another.}"

                                The giant grumbles and huffs. A great burst of steam blows from his nostrils.

                                Movement from the upper levels of the palace catches your eye. A black silhouette is visible through the smoke in one of the windows. Then a figure falls form the window, trailing smoke and fire, and lands with an audible thump on the stones of the courtyard. You recognize the body, wreathed in flame though it is - clad in black, with that unmistakable mask. The creature came down in plain view of the running servants and the arguing officials, but they do not acknowledge it.
                                • Flee the scene. You've seen enough - now you should get out of here before anyone notices you.
                                • Break cover, run to aid the black-clad one. Everyone else is ignoring them - only you can help.
                                • Break cover, approach the arguing pair. Those two would seem to know the most about what happened.
                                • Something else?


                                On the frontier of the Wild South, there's only one woman with the grit to take on its most dangerous outlaws and bring them Back Alive, or Maybe Dead.

                                Avatar by K.S. Brenowitz

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