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Post by Lord Hochrescal of Helsreach on Sept 7, 2021 7:06:41 GMT -5
The guards left. She felt the closing of the grand door in her bones. For the better or the worse, there would be no witnesses. Like an insect lost in a cave the traveler felt, and clung on her customary impudence. Sure, here was a king who had ruled for probably longer than any civilization she’d encountered, but she was the proud Travelling Painter, Walker Upon the Ground. Nina clenched her fists. “I am the heir of the Clocktower.” She admitted. “Its magic is woven in my veins.” Her careful, drawled speech was a sign of how difficult this was for her. “The man who put it there is in a coma.” There was a cold spark in her eyes. Almost…anger. “So, the Clocktower has become my responsibility. That mechanism which has been fueled by so many lives. I need to understand it. Its history.” Nina gestured at herself. “So I can ensure it doesn’t hurt people anymore.” Turns out that when power is so intricately connected to knowledge, people will try to keep their power by making knowledge more difficult to reach. And so the history she had to work with was an assembly of holes, misinterpretations and lies. “You can empathize with that, can’t you?” She tilted her head. “Your majesty?” The king stood up from his seat, and began to walk down the dais, seemingly shrinking as he did so. The tendrils behind his chair went limp, calmly falling to the ground, whole the flames dimmed a bit to a more natural level By the time he had reached the bottom, he had reached his normal height. While still quite tall at about 9 feet, not nearly as imposing.
"As a matter of fact I can." He said, putting an armored hand on her shoulder. "I will show you to the vault where it is kept. Truth be told, I'd rather be rid of it, it's been a difficulty to cart around."
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Nina
Dedicated
Roleplay posts: 290
Registered: Apr 4, 2021 10:46:08 GMT -5
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Post by Nina on Sept 11, 2021 13:17:06 GMT -5
Nina’s knees bent under the weight of the monarch’s hand on her shoulder. He was so tall, that he’d barely had to lift his arm from the elbow, and his hand was large enough to overhang by a bit. She’d considered running, in that maddening silence interspersed by the king’s steps, but had decided to stand by her words. When he spoke, it felt like the crackle of a cozy fireplace behind an iron grate. It got tiring to bend her neck so far back, and so she found herself nearly face-to-face with a chestpiece decoration that looked as if it was ready to leap out of the metal and bite her nose off.
“Erm…ah’m…” It boggled the mind how to respond. “Thank you,” Nina whispered in shock. Then: “I’d appreciate if you would consider continuing to care for the artifact, at least for the moment. To be honest, this magic is awfully tangled.” She folded her hands, distressed, and felt like the king’s openness pulled more out of her than she was initially willing to share. “People built magic on top of older magic, and like with buildings, it’s hard to tell what lies beneath until part of it collapses.” Right. And now she was dealing with things which, Gray had claimed, may be built upon each other in more than three dimensions, whatever that meant. “Some artifacts are stable for hundreds of years, largely harmless,” she mused, and thought back of the white stone snake guarding the wizard’s castle. This could be a similar case. “But I would be most grateful to see it, if you’ll allow me. If you could tell me more about it.” Who knew what side-effects bringing it in the same world as the rest of the Clocktower could have? It might even be what had pulled Gray into unbreakable sleep. “Do you remember how it got in your possession?”
Nina sneaked her gaze towards the glow that marked the king’s face.
“And…Aren’t you concerned that I might be lying for personal gain?”
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Post by Lord Hochrescal of Helsreach on Sept 11, 2021 13:31:13 GMT -5
Nina’s knees bent under the weight of the monarch’s hand on her shoulder. He was so tall, that he’d barely had to lift his arm from the elbow, and his hand was large enough to overhang by a bit. She’d considered running, in that maddening silence interspersed by the king’s steps, but had decided to stand by her words. When he spoke, it felt like the crackle of a cozy fireplace behind an iron grate. It got tiring to bend her neck so far back, and so she found herself nearly face-to-face with a chestpiece decoration that looked as if it was ready to leap out of the metal and bite her nose off. “Erm…ah’m…” It boggled the mind how to respond. “Thank you,” Nina whispered in shock. Then: “I’d appreciate if you would consider continuing to care for the artifact, at least for the moment. To be honest, this magic is awfully tangled.” She folded her hands, distressed, and felt like the king’s openness pulled more out of her than she was initially willing to share. “People built magic on top of older magic, and like with buildings, it’s hard to tell what lies beneath until part of it collapses.” Right. And now she was dealing with things which, Gray had claimed, may be built upon each other in more than three dimensions, whatever that meant. “Some artifacts are stable for hundreds of years, largely harmless,” she mused, and thought back of the white stone snake guarding the wizard’s castle. This could be a similar case. “But I would be most grateful to see it, if you’ll allow me. If you could tell me more about it.” Who knew what side-effects bringing it in the same world as the rest of the Clocktower could have? It might even be what had pulled Gray into unbreakable sleep. “Do you remember how it got in your possession?” Nina sneaked her gaze towards the glow that marked the king’s face. “And…Aren’t you concerned that I might be lying for personal gain?” "No, I'm not particularly. For one, it's worthless to me, just a piece of junk lying in storage taking up space. Second, even if you were lying, I would beat you senseless for trying. Now, for the rest, I'll tell you along the way." He said, guiding her with his big hand to a side door that lead to a staircase down. "It came into my possession through my father, who acquired it during a raiding party from it's mortal owners, I'm unsure who possessed it before then. I was aware about the layers of magic upon it, I have not added to it however, I have much better things to do than to fiddle with clock-tower pieces. However, may I ask your interest in it? What about it compels you so?"
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Nina
Dedicated
Roleplay posts: 290
Registered: Apr 4, 2021 10:46:08 GMT -5
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Post by Nina on Sept 13, 2021 11:22:05 GMT -5
Nina clung on to the wall (no handrails here either, she noted), and fell to her knees. Laughing. She laughed so much that she couldn’t breathe enough to stay upright.
“I’m sorry…I thought you knew…” She clung on to a spike protruding from the king’s knee and picked herself up, continuing downstairs after a freezing moment of realization. She shook her head in disbelief. “A fragment of one of the most dangerous things in my world, kept as some sort of paperweight…”
It wasn’t one of the small things, either. She could feel the ticking brush against her wrists, even through all these walls. The traveler tried to remember if there was anything in the Archipelago legends that mentioned devils attacking, and without meaning foreigners. She kept walking down the stairs painted with red hexagons, and felt the weight of the fiendstuff and the magic continuing to build around her, until she had to narrow her eyes just to make her senses manageable. Sound passed her ears as if through water.
“I’d appreciate if you kept this to yourself. Your majesty. In short.” Was it this added stress that forced the words out of her, or the sensation that, as the artifact’s custodian, the king should know the truth? That she should be told, in the way that she never was. “It all starts with this assassin. Legends say he wasn’t fully real.” Nina’s hand clung tighter onto the wall as she leaned forward for a moment, almost like a wing. The seemingly endless spiral downwards reminded her of the turning of a clock. “He crafts these intricate devices, and weaves them together. His successors follow suit and expand on the magic. I don’t know what those early devices did – if they were in any way similar to those I’ve heard of, many would absorb lives and channel them as fuel. Some are gears; many later ones are not.”
The staircase seemed to be spinning in her mind. Her hands were shaking.
“In every generation, one person is the Master of the Clocktower, one who has a special affinity for these constructs. This represents a tremendous amount of power. Enough to change the fate of countries.” Her voice is level though, as regular as her steps. “It is decided that only the strongest and craftiest, specifically the apprentice strong and crafty enough to kill the previous Master, should bear the title. And so it is done.” A chill passes down her palms. “Each Master builds further on the magic, adding new artifacts to the system, and re-arranging old ones. Sometimes a fragment gets old, or broken, or a piece gets unstable enough that it needs to be sent to the edge of the world. But it’s not concerning. Not yet. After all, if you rule over one of the strongest collections of artifacts in the world, you’re not scared of measly maintenance, are you?” A chuckle escapes her nose.
Her tone sinks, as they climb further down.
“It doesn’t matter that as time passes, no one knows what some artifacts do or even the languages they were written in. That you need to stuff lives into the cracks just to stop the cracks from spreading. That you need to build patches onto older patches for problems that you don’t even remember. That you need to do controlled collapses of parts of the magic, just to keep the whole thing from toppling, trading lives in the process. It’s not as if you can turn the whole system off and start anew.”
“My teacher had a name for it. ‘Legacy code’.”
She’d said enough. Enough to have herself killed several times over. Yet, the kindness with which she’d been treated today had broken her so thoroughly, that she couldn’t help but speak until their voice is shaking.
“And then time passes. And one realizes that the tower of magic they are standing on is growing quite unstable. And that if it falls, it will crush not only them, but, potentially, much of the world.”
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Post by Lord Hochrescal of Helsreach on Sept 13, 2021 11:41:41 GMT -5
Nina clung on to the wall (no handrails here either, she noted), and fell to her knees. Laughing. She laughed so much that she couldn’t breathe enough to stay upright. “I’m sorry…I thought you knew…” She clung on to a spike protruding from the king’s knee and picked herself up, continuing downstairs after a freezing moment of realization. She shook her head in disbelief. “A fragment of one of the most dangerous things in my world, kept as some sort of paperweight…” It wasn’t one of the small things, either. She could feel the ticking brush against her wrists, even through all these walls. The traveler tried to remember if there was anything in the Archipelago legends that mentioned devils attacking, and without meaning foreigners. She kept walking down the stairs painted with red hexagons, and felt the weight of the fiendstuff and the magic continuing to build around her, until she had to narrow her eyes just to make her senses manageable. Sound passed her ears as if through water. “I’d appreciate if you kept this to yourself. Your majesty. In short.” Was it this added stress that forced the words out of her, or the sensation that, as the artifact’s custodian, the king should know the truth? That she should be told, in the way that she never was. “It all starts with this assassin. Legends say he wasn’t fully real.” Nina’s hand clung tighter onto the wall as she leaned forward for a moment, almost like a wing. The seemingly endless spiral downwards reminded her of the turning of a clock. “He crafts these intricate devices, and weaves them together. His successors follow suit and expand on the magic. I don’t know what those early devices did – if they were in any way similar to those I’ve heard of, many would absorb lives and channel them as fuel. Some are gears; many later ones are not.” The staircase seemed to be spinning in her mind. Her hands were shaking. “In every generation, one person is the Master of the Clocktower, one who has a special affinity for these constructs. This represents a tremendous amount of power. Enough to change the fate of countries.” Her voice is level though, as regular as her steps. “It is decided that only the strongest and craftiest, specifically the apprentice strong and crafty enough to kill the previous Master, should bear the title. And so it is done.” A chill passes down her palms. “Each Master builds further on the magic, adding new artifacts to the system, and re-arranging old ones. Sometimes a fragment gets old, or broken, or a piece gets unstable enough that it needs to be sent to the edge of the world. But it’s not concerning. Not yet. After all, if you rule over one of the strongest collections of artifacts in the world, you’re not scared of measly maintenance, are you?” A chuckle escapes her nose. Her tone sinks, as they climb further down. “It doesn’t matter that as time passes, no one knows what some artifacts do or even the languages they were written in. That you need to stuff lives into the cracks just to stop the cracks from spreading. That you need to build patches onto older patches for problems that you don’t even remember. That you need to do controlled collapses of parts of the magic, just to keep the whole thing from toppling, trading lives in the process. It’s not as if you can turn the whole system off and start anew.” “My teacher had a name for it. ‘ Legacy code’.” She’d said enough. Enough to have herself killed several times over. Yet, the kindness with which she’d been treated today had broken her so thoroughly, that she couldn’t help but speak until their voice is shaking. “And then time passes. And one realizes that the tower of magic they are standing on is growing quite unstable. And that if it falls, it will crush not only them, but, potentially, much of the world.” The king was increasingly concerned as she told her story. It was... an impressive feat, to say the least. "And the piece in my vault? May I ask what it does, and how stable it is?"
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Nina
Dedicated
Roleplay posts: 290
Registered: Apr 4, 2021 10:46:08 GMT -5
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Post by Nina on Sept 16, 2021 10:13:55 GMT -5
“I don’t know.” As they spun deeper into the earth, Nina’s voice grew weaker.
She walked hesitantly now, trying to step mostly on the hexagons that were bare rock, as opposed to fiendstuff.
“It shouldn’t be too bad.” She expanded. Her left arm basically hugged the wall for support. Even though she rationally knew that the stair had to accommodate much larger people, it felt thread-thin. “How long ago was it when you father, uhm, took it?” She asked. Pondered. “If it’s been stable for that long it’s unlikely to start breaking down right now.”Perhaps she was being paranoid, the traveler thought. Maybe she’d spent so long looking for skeletons in closets, that she’d forgotten that wasn’t their usual place. After all, no one wrote about magical artifacts harmlessly fizzling out. “Much of what gave the Tower power was left behind when it got carried into this new world. Even if it breaks, there’s a chance that it simply won’t have the energy to do more.” She mused.
Could she risk it, though? Have the blood on her hands? But on the other hand, what if her very presence there destroyed what would have been a fragile balance?
“I simply…don’t know.” Nina said.
The effort of speaking made the steps blur in front of her eyes. She saw a mass of crimson hexagons, and stepped wrongly.
Nina started to fall.
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Post by Lord Hochrescal of Helsreach on Sept 16, 2021 15:17:23 GMT -5
“I don’t know.” As they spun deeper into the earth, Nina’s voice grew weaker. She walked hesitantly now, trying to step mostly on the hexagons that were bare rock, as opposed to fiendstuff. “It shouldn’t be too bad.” She expanded. Her left arm basically hugged the wall for support. Even though she rationally knew that the stair had to accommodate much larger people, it felt thread-thin. “How long ago was it when you father, uhm, took it?” She asked. Pondered. “If it’s been stable for that long it’s unlikely to start breaking down right now.”Perhaps she was being paranoid, the traveler thought. Maybe she’d spent so long looking for skeletons in closets, that she’d forgotten that wasn’t their usual place. After all, no one wrote about magical artifacts harmlessly fizzling out. “Much of what gave the Tower power was left behind when it got carried into this new world. Even if it breaks, there’s a chance that it simply won’t have the energy to do more.” She mused. Could she risk it, though? Have the blood on her hands? But on the other hand, what if her very presence there destroyed what would have been a fragile balance? “I simply…don’t know.” Nina said. The effort of speaking made the steps blur in front of her eyes. She saw a mass of crimson hexagons, and stepped wrongly. Nina started to fall. Lord Hochrescal was swift, his armored gauntlet reaching out and grabbing Nina's arm before she could fall off down the center of the spiral staircase. His grip was hot, not uncomfortably so, but much more than warm, and iron strong. If he wanted to hold her off and drop her she wouldn't be able to stop him. Luckily for her, he pulled her back in and steadied her against himself, pulling her close. His chest against her front was as hot as his gauntlet, almost like a hug from a parent. "Careful, don't want to fall. I need to put in some sort of railings."
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Nina
Dedicated
Roleplay posts: 290
Registered: Apr 4, 2021 10:46:08 GMT -5
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Post by Nina on Sept 17, 2021 14:48:54 GMT -5
It truly felt like she’d been pulled in front of a fireplace, or a forge. The armor felt ablaze with an inner fire, and given all that had transpired that day, it did not seem impossible for the king himself to be made of flames.
She nodded, as if to gesture that she was all right, although she wasn’t, and excused herself. Once she’d be let go, she’d go back to hugging the wall. She could feel magic radiating from downstairs, and it wasn’t only the Clocktower fragment. One step, then another. She focused on her breathing in order to bear it.
“I thought handrails were not in your culture.” Nina mumbled.
“Sorry.”
She added later, once she realized how ridiculous that sounded.
She’d keep walking carefully.
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Post by Lord Hochrescal of Helsreach on Sept 17, 2021 15:12:13 GMT -5
It truly felt like she’d been pulled in front of a fireplace, or a forge. The armor felt ablaze with an inner fire, and given all that had transpired that day, it did not seem impossible for the king himself to be made of flames. She nodded, as if to gesture that she was all right, although she wasn’t, and excused herself. Once she’d be let go, she’d go back to hugging the wall. She could feel magic radiating from downstairs, and it wasn’t only the Clocktower fragment. One step, then another. She focused on her breathing in order to bear it. “I thought handrails were not in your culture.” Nina mumbled. “Sorry.” She added later, once she realized how ridiculous that sounded. She’d keep walking carefully. He laughed deep at her comments. "To be fair, I cannot blame you. It's not something we bother with often. I'll need to grow some." From behind her the heat grew, and handrails grew out of the sides of the staircase. "There, that should be enough." His voice sounded clearer than before, and that seemed to be because he had removed his helmet.
(Ignore the horns, this is closest I could find that I want) He has ashen grey skin, with a strong jawline. He had gold, black, and white tattoo's on his face an neck, in various designs with no apparent meaning. As indicated by his helmet before, his horns were massive, spiraling upwards, the tops of which were capped with gold, as well as 3 silver bands down their length. They must be at least 2 feet long, giver or take a few inches. He then slid off the chainmail on his horns, attaching it to his helmet and hanging the helmet, chainmail, and horn plates off of a hook on his waist. He had an intense look to his eyes, but in a more... safe, way, for lack of a better term, as if he was constantly looking to protect those under his charge. He looked surprisingly young, his face belying his undoubtedly large age. He was mostly bald, though that seemed to be a natural feature, rather than a sign of age or other aspects. He did however had a slight row of greyish hair down the center of his head
"There, that's better." He said, running his hand along his scalp, as if to remove sweat. Did Fiends sweat? A question for later. He then followed her down.
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Nina
Dedicated
Roleplay posts: 290
Registered: Apr 4, 2021 10:46:08 GMT -5
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Post by Nina on Sept 18, 2021 14:38:29 GMT -5
The magic felt like a flame briefly breaking through the back of her skull. The traveler winced, and when she opened her eyes, fiendstuff was growing up into ruby-red balusters. It was old magic, deep magic, she felt. There was clinking of metal behind her, and she reflexively turned, to see the king looking much different. Where before stood the armor’s illusory glowing grin, wide enough to engulf her whole, now there was the face of a man with ashen skin not much different from Elegastus. Nina realized she was staring.
“Thank you.” She said, to cut the awkwardness.
She would turn back and continue walking. The additional support was helpful. They’d pass a few doorways to the side, but Nina could feel that what she sought was further down. Where the stairs ended, there was a door. She put her fingers on it, only to pull them back immediately. The fiendstuff arced in sharp angles, like cracks of broken glass radiating from outside in.
She wasn’t meant to be here.
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Post by Lord Hochrescal of Helsreach on Sept 19, 2021 14:53:02 GMT -5
The magic felt like a flame briefly breaking through the back of her skull. The traveler winced, and when she opened her eyes, fiendstuff was growing up into ruby-red balusters. It was old magic, deep magic, she felt. There was clinking of metal behind her, and she reflexively turned, to see the king looking much different. Where before stood the armor’s illusory glowing grin, wide enough to engulf her whole, now there was the face of a man with ashen skin not much different from Elegastus. Nina realized she was staring. “Thank you.” She said, to cut the awkwardness. She would turn back and continue walking. The additional support was helpful. They’d pass a few doorways to the side, but Nina could feel that what she sought was further down. Where the stairs ended, there was a door. She put her fingers on it, only to pull them back immediately. The fiendstuff arced in sharp angles, like cracks of broken glass radiating from outside in. She wasn’t meant to be here."Heskarlafght" The king muttered, and the feeling of denial would subside. In addition, one section of the fiendstuff would flow back, revealing an opening. "I apologize for the Fiendstuff, it's a bit aggressive, especially when I've told it to guard something." He led her though the opening into a room of hewn stone. The king snapped, and torches flared to life, revealing an incredible treasure trove. Heaps of gold and other such riches. Various magical items as well. In the back corner, underneath a pile of silver coin, the clocktower piece would be visible, sticking out from the pile.
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Nina
Dedicated
Roleplay posts: 290
Registered: Apr 4, 2021 10:46:08 GMT -5
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Post by Nina on Sept 21, 2021 10:23:56 GMT -5
Nina raised a hand in acknowledgement. She stumbled inside the treasury, eyes opened wide, took a few more steps, and promptly fell onto the biggest pile of gold coins nearby.
The larger the pile, the farther she could be from the floor and, especially from what lay beneath it.
“It’s the fiendstuff. The magic. I’m a bit…sensitive.” The girl managed to mumble to the side. After the room stopped spinning. “Out of practice.” She added. One was a weakness, the other understandable. She stared at the craggy field of gold stretching beyond her face, and took a few minutes to breathe.
“I’m sorry.”
The girl folded back onto the path like a blanket, remaining curled for a moment before standing back up. Walking towards the Clockwork piece, she felt like objects in her peripheral vision were losing color, while those close to it glowed in vivid detail. There were jewels and magic of so many shapes and tones that each would deserve its own story. The artifact itself seemed almost unremarkable, silly, a loop of metal on a stick, like a magnified version of a child’s toy for blowing soap bubbles. But then, the entire room looked somewhat quaint, since without strong trading networks, precious metals were simply souvenirs.
Nina stepped onto the pile of silvers, looking only slightly less silly as she spread her arms to balance herself, and then clawing at the shifting ground. Coins clinked past. Detail grew painfully sharp. This close, she could see the circular scratches on the metal loop, as if it used to be wrapped in rope that had since rotted away. Taking a deep breath, Nina reached for the handle.
The cold startled her. It felt like gears brushing against each other, not grasping together in the way she’d feared, not controlling, but brushing past in a ticklish, familiar manner. Auras flared. She could look down at the piece and feel that it was much larger than it seemed, in the manner of paper folded down to a thin edge. She felt powerful. Like it had happened before, the Clock fragment felt as natural for her to use as reaching for a brush in her painting kit.
Pulling the artifact from the silvers in one swoop and having it gleam in the torchlight would have been spectacular, but alas silver was heavy and Nina was still lacking upper-body strength, and so she resorted to shimmying the object out halfway. Not far under the hilt, the metal arched in an elegant, tendril-like filigree. It was a clock hand. Its cross-section, rather than being completely flat, resembled a diamond. A blade? It was sharp on both sides, which Nina noticed almost too late and which made her file ‘leaving unsecured weapons around’ under ‘yet another Fiend thing’.
A clock hand.
A blade.
The girl reached with her mind inside it, teasing its secrets. With a jolt, she realized that back in the Clocktower, some of the gears had cracks and runes that if aligned would fit-
“A key.” Nina whispered.
“Key of the Twilight.” She said, without knowing exactly where she took that name from, and that scared her.
Nina sat down near the cursed object, holding her head. The pile of treasure put her at about eye-level with the king. Several times she raised an index finger, as if about to speak, but what she’d found from the clock hand felt too big for words.
“Well, what am I supposed to do with a hundred souls?” She finally asked.
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Post by Lord Hochrescal of Helsreach on Sept 21, 2021 10:52:56 GMT -5
Nina raised a hand in acknowledgement. She stumbled inside the treasury, eyes opened wide, took a few more steps, and promptly fell onto the biggest pile of gold coins nearby. The larger the pile, the farther she could be from the floor and, especially from what lay beneath it. “It’s the fiendstuff. The magic. I’m a bit…sensitive.” The girl managed to mumble to the side. After the room stopped spinning. “Out of practice.” She added. One was a weakness, the other understandable. She stared at the craggy field of gold stretching beyond her face, and took a few minutes to breathe. “I’m sorry.” The girl folded back onto the path like a blanket, remaining curled for a moment before standing back up. Walking towards the Clockwork piece, she felt like objects in her peripheral vision were losing color, while those close to it glowed in vivid detail. There were jewels and magic of so many shapes and tones that each would deserve its own story. The artifact itself seemed almost unremarkable, silly, a loop of metal on a stick, like a magnified version of a child’s toy for blowing soap bubbles. But then, the entire room looked somewhat quaint, since without strong trading networks, precious metals were simply souvenirs. Nina stepped onto the pile of silvers, looking only slightly less silly as she spread her arms to balance herself, and then clawing at the shifting ground. Coins clinked past. Detail grew painfully sharp. This close, she could see the circular scratches on the metal loop, as if it used to be wrapped in rope that had since rotted away. Taking a deep breath, Nina reached for the handle. The cold startled her. It felt like gears brushing against each other, not grasping together in the way she’d feared, not controlling, but brushing past in a ticklish, familiar manner. Auras flared. She could look down at the piece and feel that it was much larger than it seemed, in the manner of paper folded down to a thin edge. She felt powerful. Like it had happened before, the Clock fragment felt as natural for her to use as reaching for a brush in her painting kit. Pulling the artifact from the silvers in one swoop and having it gleam in the torchlight would have been spectacular, but alas silver was heavy and Nina was still lacking upper-body strength, and so she resorted to shimmying the object out halfway. Not far under the hilt, the metal arched in an elegant, tendril-like filigree. It was a clock hand. Its cross-section, rather than being completely flat, resembled a diamond. A blade? It was sharp on both sides, which Nina noticed almost too late and which made her file ‘leaving unsecured weapons around’ under ‘yet another Fiend thing’. A clock hand. A blade. The girl reached with her mind inside it, teasing its secrets. With a jolt, she realized that back in the Clocktower, some of the gears had cracks and runes that if aligned would fit- “A key.” Nina whispered. “Key of the Twilight.” She said, without knowing exactly where she took that name from, and that scared her. Nina sat down near the cursed object, holding her head. The pile of treasure put her at about eye-level with the king. Several times she raised an index finger, as if about to speak, but what she’d found from the clock hand felt too big for words. “Well, what am I supposed to do with a hundred souls?” She finally asked. The king chuckled when she fell into the gold. Mortals and their money.
When she asked the question, he was silent for a long moment. "It all depends on the souls in question. The souls of killers and monsters could be dangerous, doubly so if something is binding them here, while those of the common mortal could be let loose to lay at rest. However, it is not my decision to make, it is yours. I cannot take that sort of responsibility from you."
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Nina
Dedicated
Roleplay posts: 290
Registered: Apr 4, 2021 10:46:08 GMT -5
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Post by Nina on Sept 29, 2021 13:38:37 GMT -5
Nina brushed her fingers over the swirls of the large clock hand. Occasionally, her fingertips seemed to go right through the metal. Her eyes narrowed, and she saw threads of blinding white crisscross in front of her.
“If I let them free, would they know where to go?” Her hand pulled back, picking a glowing piece of haze along with it. For a moment it illuminated her palm in a strange light that had no shadow. “If they are simply erased, would that be the right path to take?” She spoke calmly, as if she wasn’t considering mass murder. She stroked the soul, and watched it be gently be pulled back in the spaces between the metal. “They feel smooth like the stones under a waterfall, worn out by time…time…time.” Her voice drawled like the terrifying infinity she felt trickling. How long does it take for personality to be smoothed down to the point one might not be a person anymore? To the point where they might not even be alive? “Most human. A few, fiend. Taken by force, or coercion, or lies, or a trust so blinding that it lingered beyond death.”
A few memories remained, like inclusions of harder rock standing out from river stone. Nina felt the dizzying warmth that one soul held for the one to whom they’d offered their life. She pulled her hand back as if burnt.
“Your majesty. I’m grateful for being shown this-” Nina tried to bow her head, but the motion nearly made her collapse forward. “I need more time to decide. Learn.”
The girl closed her eyes.
“The key ‘tself…” She waved towards the fragment, and just missed it. “It might be able to fix and/or ruin everything.” Her eyelids flickered open, but in the end the effort proved too much. The magic had taken everything out of her. “’m not askin’ to trust me enough to offer it. But…May I return to…?” The traveler gestured.
After a few moments, her mind stumbled back upon the concern that the king likely had had all along.
“It feels stable.” She whispered.
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Post by Lord Hochrescal of Helsreach on Sept 29, 2021 14:12:08 GMT -5
Nina brushed her fingers over the swirls of the large clock hand. Occasionally, her fingertips seemed to go right through the metal. Her eyes narrowed, and she saw threads of blinding white crisscross in front of her. “If I let them free, would they know where to go?” Her hand pulled back, picking a glowing piece of haze along with it. For a moment it illuminated her palm in a strange light that had no shadow. “If they are simply erased, would that be the right path to take?” She spoke calmly, as if she wasn’t considering mass murder. She stroked the soul, and watched it be gently be pulled back in the spaces between the metal. “They feel smooth like the stones under a waterfall, worn out by time…time…time.” Her voice drawled like the terrifying infinity she felt trickling. How long does it take for personality to be smoothed down to the point one might not be a person anymore? To the point where they might not even be alive? “Most human. A few, fiend. Taken by force, or coercion, or lies, or a trust so blinding that it lingered beyond death.” A few memories remained, like inclusions of harder rock standing out from river stone. Nina felt the dizzying warmth that one soul held for the one to whom they’d offered their life. She pulled her hand back as if burnt. “Your majesty. I’m grateful for being shown this-” Nina tried to bow her head, but the motion nearly made her collapse forward. “I need more time to decide. Learn.” The girl closed her eyes. “The key ‘tself…” She waved towards the fragment, and just missed it. “It might be able to fix and/or ruin everything.” Her eyelids flickered open, but in the end the effort proved too much. The magic had taken everything out of her. “’m not askin’ to trust me enough to offer it. But…May I return to…?” The traveler gestured. After a few moments, her mind stumbled back upon the concern that the king likely had had all along. “It feels stable.” She whispered. "You may take it, it is your responsibility to care for it." The king said, putting a hand on her shoulder, just in case she needed help. "You have a lot to worry about, don't let me be another thing to add to that list."
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