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AJ_Impy
Jun 17, 2007

SWORD OF SMATTAS. CAN YOU NOT HEAR A WORLD CRY OUT FOR JUSTICE? WHEN WILL YOU DELIVER IT?
Yam Slacker
Allegra
Turn 25


quote:

2d6k1 = (4+6) = 6
I reach unknown land 25: A gentle, sandy shoreline (growth)

First it is the smell: A salty tang in the air, clean and sharp. Then the sound, a gentle, constant sussuration pulsing pleasantly through the air. Finally, I crest a dune strewn with hardy plantlife to behold an endless body of water, crystal-clear blue waters washing up against a vast, golden expanse of sand, endlessly built up in the wash.

What past has this place put behind itself?

Grains of sand, each of them once part of something bigger. Vast swathes of them, glittering in the dappled sunlight. Each too small to be individually perceived, but each one calling out, 'I was once a mountain'.

What do you remember of this place?

I have never been here before, never been anywhere truly like this, used to the silty waterways and rocky coasts of the city so far away. It earns a place in my memory anew, should ever I venture to similar coasts.

Name: Allegra
Selves: an identical twin, a renowned duelling fencer, a concerned family-supportive woman, Inviolate Representative of the Prince
Possessions: an embroidered sash made and gifted by my twin.
Growth: 2
Decay: 2
Severance: 2
Renewal: 2
Illusion: 1
Clarity: 1

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UnCO3
Feb 11, 2010

Ye gods!

College Slice
bumping to keep a hibernating thread out of the archives

UnCO3
Feb 11, 2010

Ye gods!

College Slice
bumping again; this thread will be active soon

Tyrannosaurus
Apr 12, 2006
Cicalone
Turn 25

quote:

DiceBot Today at 12:32 PM
@Tyrannosaurus: 2d6k1 = (4+ 2 ) = 4
I arrive at an ancient architectural wonder...

As I approach the Godsbridge, I am spotted and saluted by a guard in shiny, ceremonial armor. I've never seen guards posted here like this. Polished and straight not bored and slouching. As my horse gallops across the massive structure, I see another set of guards at attention evenly spaced every hundred yards. Above me hang brightly colored banners bearing the standard of the City. When I stop by the Inn, even it seems... brighter. Cleaner.

I dream of Allegra.

quote:

DiceBotToday at 12:36 PM
@Tyrannosaurus: 3d6k2 = (6+6+ 5 ) = 6
An increase in renewal
--

Name: Cicalone
Selves: veteran of the wars, accomplished swordsman, concerned uncle, hopeless stutterer
Possessions: a multibloom corsage, an order from the prince

Growth: 2
Decay: 2
Severance: 1
Renewal: 3
Illusion: 2
Clarity: 1

Tyrannosaurus
Apr 12, 2006
Cicalone
Turn 26

quote:

DiceBot 07/11/2020
@UnCO3:  2d6k1 cicalone = ( 4 +6) = 6
I arrive at the city.

I take the prince's order to not my cathedral but to the cathedral, the head of the church, the capital of the faith. And it is... ostentatious. High vaulted ceilings. Magnificent multicolored stained glass. Towering statues. Gold. Silver. Pearl. I have never visited before. I have never felt worthy. Yet as I walk through the great wooden doors I can not help but feel that it is not worthy. Not worthy of God. I've traveled up mountains, down valleys, over rivers, through forests, watched sunrises and sunsets, witnessed beauties sundry and myriad and compared to those awesome creations of God this monument of man is nothing more than a cheap facsimile of power irreplicable. 

The cardinals sit and bicker like birds. They wag fingers heavy laden with golden rings. Their towering hats wobble with every bob of the head. They huff and they puff and they argue over the "subtle nuances" of the prince's message. Personally, I find the it simple and succinct:

I REQUIRE THE MONK, NOBERTO

Yet those five words elicit five hours of debate. They wonder as to the prince's motivations. They argue whether or not this is an infringement of the royal family on the holy church. They question if this is the potential beginning of a new age of spiritual enlightenment. They postulate that perhaps one of them, one of the holy leaders, should venture out to the prince in the stead of a lowly monk barely past his novitiate. I stand, silent and solemn and still, throughout the whole thing. 

Eventually, Noberto is released to me. But not before he is draped in fine robes, jewelry, religious iconography. Misted in fine-smelling perfumes. He is, after all, to be "the church's representative to the prince." 

He looks ridiculous and absolutely bewildered. 

I am excited to show him God as I have learned Him. As He truly is.

quote:

DiceBot Today at 11:37 AM
@Tyrannosaurus:  3d6k2  = ( 6 +6+ 2 ) = 6
A tie is broken by Renewal

While we will leave first thing in the morning, tonight we dine with his parents. His father, my brother, is relieved that Noberto is free of the church's shackles. My sister-in-law cries that she has traded one prison for another. She won't see her son either way, she reasons. I reassure her that this is different, better. That he will travel the world, that he will become a man, that he might one day fall in love, who knows... The future is frightening but at least there is one. And he'll be able to make the choice for himself. It will be his choice. Whatever it is. Whatever his future is. 

She touches my arm as we talk. And that's all it is. A touch. It is not a spark. I do not long for her. Not anymore. Nor do I curse her, my brother, my family. Not anymore. Before we leave, I am handed a small collection of gifts and notes from Allegra. I smile. My heart is somewhere out there on the road. In the morning, I will be a step closer to her. The morning can not come soon enough! I pen a letter to her, for her, for when she returns here and that night I find it hard to sleep. 

quote:

My bitter bond is broken.
--

Name: Cicalone
Selves: veteran of the wars, accomplished swordsman, concerned uncle, hopeless stutterer
Possessions: a multibloom corsage, Noberto

Growth: 2
Decay: 2
Severance: 1
Renewal: 0
Illusion: 2
Clarity: 1

AJ_Impy
Jun 17, 2007

SWORD OF SMATTAS. CAN YOU NOT HEAR A WORLD CRY OUT FOR JUSTICE? WHEN WILL YOU DELIVER IT?
Yam Slacker
Allegra
Turn 26


quote:

2d6k1 allegra = (6+ 5 ) = 6
I reach the Caravan

The ride gets ever longer, but the reunions ever more joyful. Colourful plumes of alchemical smoke rising high into the air greet me on the horizon and rise high into the air, and that alone is enough to bring a smile to my face as my thoughts turn to the Prince's alchemist, as staunch a partisan as we who brave the roads, and those who guard the caravan. Speaking of the guards, Dorigo and Esteban are keeping watch on the cityward approach, or at least Esteban is. Dorigo is in heated but good-hearted debate with Vitaliano the quartermaster. I raise my hand in salute to all three as I go past, my princely credential clear for them to do their duty. The bright sunlight glints from the fittings on the Prince's massive wagon, taking the breath away even after having seen such sights in my time of service. I secure my horse as per usual, and come aboard.

I report on the response to the order he gave as my boon, and the consequences thereof. He seems pleased, in a slightly absent way, but interrupts me as is his prerogative to declaim,

UnCO3 as the Prince posted:

"Bury a city for me. Any will do."

Confounded by the magnitude of the task, I simply voice my assent and continue. I hand over the remainder of the correspondence, and something makes him frown slightly. He states,

Tyrannosaurus as the Prince posted:

"I require one of your dreams."

I ponder this for a moment and reply,

"Immediately, my liege. I have long dreamed of mastering the Orichalcum Blade Tournament, triumphing over all-comers through my skill with a blade. Fantasies of it entertain me in moments of rest, imagining the fights against the champions and challengers, considering how it might feel to win the prize, the faces of my kin in the city... Of, and I say this with chagrin for it sounds like fluff and flattery but is true to my dream, dedicating the win to you, my Lord, that the glory won might shine on your good name."

This seems to satisfy him. I attend as he adds a couple of fresh missives to the burden it is my privilege to convey, before being sent on my way, heading for the commissary once I have secured everything.

How in all the world am I going to bury a city for him?

Name: Allegra
Selves: an identical twin, a renowned duelling fencer, a concerned family-supportive woman, Inviolate Representative of the Prince
Possessions: an embroidered sash made and gifted by my twin.
Growth: 2
Decay: 2
Severance: 2
Renewal: 2
Illusion: 1
Clarity: 1

UnCO3
Feb 11, 2010

Ye gods!

College Slice
Corriere
Turn 26

quote:

DiceBotBOT
@UnCO3: 2d6k1 = (3+4) = 4
I arrive at the twenty-third Unknown Land, a bloated, whistling bog.
The heavy scent of rot clings to my horse and slows our pace through this bog. It doesn’t help that the soil itself heaves and belches unsteadily as whatever’s dead underneath churns in the earth’s guts. Eventually I resort to guiding my horse by foot, hand on the reins, gingerly helping them through.

A solitary eel-picker winds through the waters, whistling in tune with the belches of the land. With the dead. We pay each other little mind.

What does this place need?

A road. By God, it needs a road.

Who owns this place?

I pass a tower on the mire—in the mire, really. Leeches coil round the base and slugs climb up the side. In one of the windows I can just about make out the glint of sunlight on spectacles as someone watches me struggle through. Then I hear the clack of a crossbow—I waste no time straddling my horse and jabbing my spurs in. Bolts thwish into the stinking water behind us an a snobbish cackle nips at our heels as we make our staggering escape.

It’s quite some time before I find somewhere safe and firm to rest for the night.

-

Name: Corriere
Selves: skilled chess player, dutiful elder brother, bitter shadow of the City, distant admirer of blades
Possessions: A rough-hewn stone chess knight; A rough-hewn volcanic rock chess knight

Growth: 1
Decay: 2
Severance: 1
Renewal: 1
Illusion: 1
Clarity: 5

Tyrannosaurus
Apr 12, 2006
Cicalone
Turn 27

quote:

DiceBot BOT
07/31/2020
@UnCO3: 2d6k1 Cicalone = ( 1 +3) = 3
I arrive at a windswept hilltop observatory

Noberto slows me down quite considerably. He is a competent enough rider. Especially given how long it has been since he sat atop a horse. But his presence, his uncomfortableness riding, his speed (or lackthereof), makes me realize how long I have been living in my saddle. How natural is has become for me. How normal.

Will I die in my saddle?

I point at the distance hilltop, at the multicolored observatory perched upon it, and he nods. A place for rest. It is understood. I think about how different two sets of horse hooves sound different than one.

As we approach, I see a large collection of peasants. They are casually blocking the road. Yet despite their humble clothes, their rags, it is their scars, muscles, collective wary demeanor that betrays them to be more simple farmers. Two stand close to an out-of-place haycart. Weapons, no doubt, hidden within. Slowly, subtly, I reach for my sword. I worry that Noberto will freeze when we should flee. If that should happen...

Perhaps I'll learn about that death of mine after all.

With my free hand, I reveal the seal of the prince. There is a glance between men, a nod, and we are let through. I breath a sigh of relief. Soldiers. Not bandits.

But why are they so far from the city? And why in such numbers?

quote:

What here is out of space or time?

As we approach the building itself, I notice actual soldiers, soldiers in uniform, stationed along the edges of the great domed room. And when we enter, I understand why.

The princess.

Dressed in ornate and beautiful garbs almost as spectacular as the stars this building is used to observe. She steps away from the telescope and greets me personally. Noberto seems awestruck. I will have to explain that we are not friends. She is merely familiar with me as a messenger for her brother. Still. She is friendly. And she seems to remember my talents for speech, leaving me with simple questions to answer.

Is this a passionate hobby of hers? A passing interest? A reason to escape the confines of the city? I do not ask. She does not tell. Still. She is friendly. Gracious. Feeds us from her personal stores. And I am left touched by our gentle communion.

--

Name: Cicalone
Selves: veteran of the wars, accomplished swordsman, concerned uncle, hopeless stutterer
Possessions: a multibloom corsage, Noberto

Growth: 2
Decay: 2
Severance: 1
Renewal: 0
Illusion: 2
Clarity: 2

UnCO3
Feb 11, 2010

Ye gods!

College Slice
Corriere
Turn 27

quote:

DiceBotBOT
@UnCO3: 2d6k1 = (4+5) = 5
I arrive at the eighteenth Land, the remains of an abandoned village.
I make mercifully swift progress after leaving the bog. It doesn’t quite make up for being shot at, but it’s something. Then, just when I need shelter, I stumble across…

quote:

DiceBotBOT
@UnCO3: 5d6k1 = (2+6+4+6+1) = 6
A transformation of Clarity… the remains of an abandoned village become wind-scoured subterranean stoneworks.
Some kind of ruins, surrounded by newly-chopped stumps of trees. Someone’s wrecked this place, and without the blanket of trees, the wind’s come in and blown away the earth, grass, pebbles, and all. Everything underground is now open to the air. Firepits, food stores, barrows, all opened up, all holding together even though the stones on the surface are scattered. It won’t be long before the wind starts to erode these bits too, though.

What needs to be restored here?

If the trees could regrow, then the grass could regrow, then the earth could bury this all over again and keep it safe from the wind. Is being forgotten better than being destroyed?

What here is impossible?

There’s a row of… graves? Perhaps? That’s what I assume the line of eight pure-black stone pillars are. One of them’s been knocked over, though. All the others are capped with moss and lichen; it’s easy to see what was once buried, now exhumed by the wind.

Eight of them in a row… surely not.

I hear the echoes of flutes and harps.

-

Name: Corriere
Selves: skilled chess player, dutiful elder brother, bitter shadow of the City, distant admirer of blades
Possessions: A rough-hewn stone chess knight; A rough-hewn volcanic rock chess knight

Growth: 1
Decay: 2
Severance: 1
Renewal: 2
Illusion: 1
Clarity: 5

UnCO3 fucked around with this message at 14:53 on Aug 7, 2020

AJ_Impy
Jun 17, 2007

SWORD OF SMATTAS. CAN YOU NOT HEAR A WORLD CRY OUT FOR JUSTICE? WHEN WILL YOU DELIVER IT?
Yam Slacker
Allegra
Turn 27


quote:

2d6k1 Allegra = (6+ 1 ) = 6
I arrive at the 22nd unknown land, a Wavering Desert Mirage.

The heat from above is intense, and all around me is the hazy shimmer of it reflecting from the ground. It is as if I am adrift upon a vasty sea, nothing real, everything ephemeral. I imagine I see the city, the caravan, my family, all of it just trickery, reflections of my mind radiating out where I can make no sense of what lies around.

What is the most beautiful thing here?

There is much that my imagination paints upon the shimmer. My Prince, whose visage fills me with pride. My family, who warm me far more gently than the baking rays from above. The city, home and origin. The caravan, where fellow-travellers reside. My fellow riders, my comrades, and perhaps so much more. In my mind's eye I see Nevio called Cicalone, and my soul basks in delight.

Who embodies this place?

The one passing through these refractions of the mind. The source of the imagined figures in the shimmer. The one who lends bodies of memory to reflected heat distortions. I do, at least for my passage through.

Name: Allegra
Selves: an identical twin, a renowned duelling fencer, a concerned family-supportive woman, Inviolate Representative of the Prince
Possessions: an embroidered sash made and gifted by my twin.
Growth: 2
Decay: 2
Severance: 2
Renewal: 2
Illusion: 2
Clarity: 1

Tyrannosaurus
Apr 12, 2006
Cicalone
Turn 28

quote:

DiceBot
@UnCO3: 2d6k1 Cicalone = ( 3 +4) = 4
I arrive at a mossy ruined fort

We rest at the remnants of an old fort. The battle fought here, either through distance or time, is unknown to me. But I take Noberto across the fallen walls and destroyed towers, pointing out what was cannon, what was fire, pitch, oil. Here and there, half or mostly buried, we discover tidbits of war. Sabers. Armor. All ruined. One day to be nothing more than dust. Forgotten.

There are flowers, too. Everywhere. Climbing up the remains like scaling attackers. Smothering the horrors of war with tranquility and beauty.

I recognize them. I have one on my corsage. Allegra was here. Once. I don't tell Noberto this. Of his aunt. Some things are too personal.

quote:

DiceBot
@Tyrannosaurus: 3d6k1 = (1+3+4) = 4
An increase in Decay.

--

Name: Cicalone
Selves: veteran of the wars, accomplished swordsman, concerned uncle, hopeless stutterer
Possessions: a multibloom corsage, Noberto

Growth: 2
Decay: 3
Severance: 1
Renewal: 0
Illusion: 2
Clarity: 2

AJ_Impy
Jun 17, 2007

SWORD OF SMATTAS. CAN YOU NOT HEAR A WORLD CRY OUT FOR JUSTICE? WHEN WILL YOU DELIVER IT?
Yam Slacker
Allegra
Turn 28


quote:

2d6k1 Allegra = ( 6 +6) = 6
I arrive at a carnivorous causeway of volcanic teeth

The refreshing ocean breeze, even carrying with it the pungent scent of fish, is a pleasant enough respite in my travels. I approach the edge of a cliff and see a vista of basalt, tended by bell-jangling fishers plucking the bounty of the sea washed up on the hexagonal pillars. I raise a hand in friendly greeting, and back away from the cliff, content to leave the locals to their task. I have victuals enough to tide me over without sharing of their livelihood.

quote:

1d6 clarity = (2) = 2
What does this place need?

I contemplate the edge of the cliff. A different, softer sort of rock in contrast to the tessellating spectacle below. Would a guard rail be of use along the top lest the careless traveller risk a fall? Probably, probably. But I take my musing with me as I depart on the morrow, unshared.

Name: Allegra
Selves: an identical twin, a renowned duelling fencer, a concerned family-supportive woman, Inviolate Representative of the Prince
Possessions: an embroidered sash made and gifted by my twin.
Growth: 2
Decay: 3
Severance: 2
Renewal: 2
Illusion: 2
Clarity: 1

UnCO3
Feb 11, 2010

Ye gods!

College Slice
Corriere
Turn 28

quote:

DiceBotBOT
@UnCO3: 2d6k1 = (1+6) = 6
I arrive at the twelfth Land, a sea of grass.
This sea again—but now the silver-topped grass is dying away in patchy chunks, like hair dropping out of a plague victim. I knew there was a poison in this place: vanity.

quote:

DiceBotBOT
@UnCO3: 5d6k1 = (6+4+6+3+3) = 6
A transformation of Clarity… the sea of grass becomes the barren ruins of a hated City.
Silver grass to black earth. Now the whole thing’s laid bare: acres of ruins, flattened by wind and time and now exposed to the sun. Walls, foundations, mosaics, shingles, shattered keystones of arches that couldn’t stand under the weight of vanity any more. drat this place! It’s full of the symbols of power and the vice-like grip this city’s kings and emperors had on their people. Statues of tall and beautiful royalty looked up to with adoration by children in rags. Wide boulevards and char-marked alleyways. The whips and chariots and marching armies I saw before. I spend a bit of time, marvelling, hating.

What protects this place?

The little tall grass left still hides plenty of statues and reliefs and icons. I get in some good practice shattering and defacing the ones the grass doesn’t hide, though.

How is this place divided?

By the wall. Inside, there are the crumbling remains of plazas, atria, towers… outside are scrap pile remnants of lean-tos rotted to half to dust.

No glory without cost—and those who paid the ‘cost’ made others pay the price.

-

Name: Corriere
Selves: skilled chess player, dutiful elder brother, bitter shadow of the City, distant admirer of blades
Possessions: A rough-hewn stone chess knight; A rough-hewn volcanic rock chess knight

Growth: 2
Decay: 2
Severance: 1
Renewal: 2
Illusion: 1
Clarity: 5

UnCO3 fucked around with this message at 14:53 on Aug 7, 2020

AJ_Impy
Jun 17, 2007

SWORD OF SMATTAS. CAN YOU NOT HEAR A WORLD CRY OUT FOR JUSTICE? WHEN WILL YOU DELIVER IT?
Yam Slacker
Allegra
Turn 29


quote:

2d6k1 Allegra = ( 1 +4) = 4
I arrive at the Twelfth land, the barren ruins of a hated city
2d6k1 Severance = (5+ 2 ) = 5
A significant change

I swear, sometimes our great prince is prescient. A long-lost, long-abandoned city, devoid of people, devoid of life. Dead, the husk, the shell of a civilisation. Some vandal was here recently, time-worn sculptures showing the ruination of a callous hand, new clefts in the stone stark against the timeworn surrounds. What brute could take pleasure in such a thing, or commit the time to the act?

It is clear that some bitter soul weighed a brief, personal war here, assaulting the defenceless civic corpse, defiling, desecrating. So, I go about the ruins, gather up a slab, a pillar, and assemble a memorial stele by where the gate once stood. I spend hours carving a few words into it, a paean to those that lived here once. Some would have been good, some ill, for that is the way of all people. I laid them all to rest with my words, hallowed and consecrated the remnants of their dwelling-place. I spake lamentations for them, and sprinkled a handful of black loam atop the memorial I had made.

I could now tell my Prince I had buried a city for him.

As an Inviolate Representative of the Prince, I change this land, hated to hallowed.

Name: Allegra
Selves: an identical twin, a renowned duelling fencer, a concerned family-supportive woman, Inviolate Representative of the Prince
Possessions: an embroidered sash made and gifted by my twin.
Growth: 2
Decay: 3
Severance: 2
Renewal: 2
Illusion: 2
Clarity: 2

Tyrannosaurus
Apr 12, 2006
Cicalone
Turn 29

quote:

DiceBot
@UnCO3:  2d6k1 Cicalone = (3+ 1 ) = 3
I arrive at a field of flowers

I stop us before we reach the field and I fashion an impromptu mask from a scavenged ox horn. I fill it with sweet things. Tie it around my face with a lashing of leather. I bade Noberto do the same. 

He refuses.

"The evil of man is far fouler than any creation of God's," he responds.

What witness did he bear back in the city?

I do not press the matter and instead lead us into the field. Even through my mask, the stench of this place is pervasive. I glance over my shoulder and see that Noberto is covering his nose with his shirt. His eyes are watering. 

Only one way to learn, I suppose. 

We pass the remains of a dead cow, half buried by the flowers. What little of it I can still see wriggles and writhes, every inch of decaying flesh now home to hundreds of hungry larvae. I wonder if the creature died here. Or if it fell victim to the insects. Of all the ways I've ever imagined I might die, devoured alive is perhaps the worst. I hope that was not the beast's fate. I hope it will never be mine own. 

I stir my horse to greater speed, the sooner we leave this place the better, and my foresight is immediately rewarded for no sooner do we start off does a great host of stinging flies emerge behind us. They give chase, a threatening storm cloud of venom, but are no match for the swiftness of our horses. 

Still.

I don't remember the insects being so aggressive before. Is it seasonal? Is it a sign?

As we ride, we stir up several more groups. It is a dangerous ride.

quote:

DiceBot
@Tyrannosaurus:  3d6k1  = (6+ 2 + 2 ) = 6
An increase in Decay.

It is nightfall when we are finally free of the field, I remove my mask and breathe deep the fresh air. Noberto practically falls off his horse and begins dry heaving next to it. 

Domino, called Corriere, passes by us and into the field. I have only a moment to muster my warning: "Fly!" 

--

Name: Cicalone
Selves: veteran of the wars, accomplished swordsman, concerned uncle, hopeless stutterer
Possessions: a multibloom corsage, Noberto

Growth: 2
Decay: 4
Severance: 1
Renewal: 0
Illusion: 2
Clarity: 2

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UnCO3
Feb 11, 2010

Ye gods!

College Slice
Corriere
Turn 29

quote:

DiceBotBOT
@UnCO3: 2d6k1 = (6+3) = 6
I arrive at the sixth Land, a row of timeworn obelisks.
"Fly"? Yes, I think I will 'fly' back ho— back to the City on my horse, fleet of hoof. Oh, one hated City for another. "Fortune!" I cry in turn to the noble messenger.

quote:

DiceBotBOT
@UnCO3: 6d6k1 = (5+1+3+6+1+4) = 6
A Change of Clarity.
I arrive in the late night time when ordinary people are asleep and scholars are at work, but all the lights are dark in the settlement. Then I catch sight of light barely slipping through the seams of one of the canvas towers surrounding an obelisk—and is that people inside? A crowd paying rapt attention?—so I hold open a flap and peek inside.

A man, squat and bearded like a copper kettle under a cosy, stands on a barrel in the centre of the tent-like chamber with the obelisk a wall behind him, surrounded by unmoving figures that don’t quite register in the light.

‘the divine murder!’

He reads patches from the notes to the crowd of spellbound colleagues with trembling finger and gleaming eye.

‘games beyond games’

All the light in the room sticks to him like tar.

‘not for a fisherman’s loaves’

‘commemorate the dead season’

‘higher than the birds!’

Then the canvas slips back down with a ssvff. They all notice me and the spell is broken, the book is snapped shut, the lamplight turns fluid again and washes out the ‘room’. The leader promises room and board over the rising din of the scholars filing out and debating the new ideas this translation brings.

-

Name: Corriere
Selves: skilled chess player, dutiful elder brother, bitter shadow of the City, distant admirer of blades
Possessions: A rough-hewn stone chess knight; A rough-hewn volcanic rock chess knight

Growth: 2
Decay: 2
Severance: 1
Renewal: 2
Illusion: 1
Clarity: 6

UnCO3 fucked around with this message at 11:20 on Aug 10, 2020

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