by Wrenmae on July 28th, 2011, 1:59 am
Life in the forest was much like life in the mountains, save with a more ready abundance of materials. Wrenmae had been hiking in the wildlands for days now...since the small house, he had found ample reason to survive off the land...of course necessity called him to hunt, to lay the traps he still had with him and struggle with the immense amount of gear he still carried.
The horse would have been helpful, but Weaver was long gone...back in Alvadas with Seidaku. Even the welcome company of the kitten would have helped. As it stood, the hypnotist walked alone. The forest pushed around him, rough branches catching at the sides of his pack and clothes, birds winging over with cries of chortling nonsense.
Pausing beneath an oak, Wrenmae slid to the ground. In order to continue he must purge his thoughts of such unnecessary distractions. Sighing, he pulled up that image of nothing Seidaku had taught him so long ago. Pulling the portal of Void into Mizahar was difficult work. To a tired magicer, the process was compounded by the life around him. Every noise dug into his consciousness and tried to disrupt or otherwise pervert his thought. Wrenmae concentrated, pulling a tiny point of nothing into Mizahar. I calmed him, at least he could still manipulate to his full extent. A man was helpless in such an hostile place, but if he still had heart he might persevere. Admittedly Wrenmae had no idea where he was. He might be walking in circles, round and round a forest on some forsaken island.
Holding the portal for a moment, picturing the nothingness, holding the nothingness, peering into that infinite blackness, he let it drop and swirl away to nothing.
He shook his head, groaning to his feet. Forcing Djed into his legs, he concentrated on the musculature of his horse, Weaver, on the way his flank had felt, the corded way horse muscles moved in motion. All he wanted was to boost his step a bit. His muscles tightened, shifted, warping with the same slow feeling he had grown used to. Although he now walked a bit lopsided, his legs easily a bit larger than they should be, he felt a little less tired.
He maintained it till his bones were weary, tired of supporting an incomplete morph.
Dismissing the change with slow, careful care, Wrenmae muttered curses and stepped up an incline, still ringed by trees staring down at him.
It wasn't until after the peak of the suns passage that he heard something, a rustle and deliberate step. Forgoing danger entirely, the Hypnotist pushed through the undergrowth like a crashing bear. The idea that someone was here, that there were people, it completely erased the exhaustion growing at the edges of his vision.
"Oy! Oy!" He called out, breaking the treeline and descending on Bob with a frenzied wave. The man was alone, but it meant nothing to the socially deprived storyteller. Laughing, almost giddily, he allowed exhaustion to catch his legs and send him tumbling to the path in front of the gambler, still laughing amidst the pain.
"Oh gods," he said between chuckles, "You don't know how glad I am to see you, someone, anyone out here!"
This PC has the Blight gnosis. As such, you as a player need to be aware of what that consists of. Wrenmae has an invisible aura that amplifies sickness and disease. Wounds may become infected, small sneezes may become coughing, and a slight fever may become more serious. A nuit's body will also break down faster in the presence of the Blight. These effects may not be immediate, but within the few days following your encounter, the symptoms will manifest. Some sooner than others. I cannot control your character, so creativity will be left up to you. Best wishes and stay healthy!
Special shoutout to
Fallon for my new CS
