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File: 1383345659502.png (511.1 KB, 1013x660, 1354912482274.png)

 No.500258[Last 50 Posts]

From the deck of the passanger boat you took a ride on, you can see the small island of Red Flight and its large volcano, covered in lushing jungles.
You are actually just a short way south of Horseshoe Bay, maybe one day of sailing at most.
In the distance, a few, modest houses can be seen, painted in a variety of bright colors. They seem to be getting close by the minute.

Your wealth level is 7


"Ahhh, another day most beautiful! On an Island so bountiful! Another location- oh adventure so delightful!"

Spread my wings and drink in the moment of new visitations


As you let the chilly and gentle sea breeze ruffle your feathers, a few of the other passangers stop to glance briefly at your morning display before moving on.
The crew has started docking preparations, working on the few sails and many ropes of the boat, and is paying you no mind.
Perception check together with your next action.


Perception and then stretch out my wings some more

Roll #1 6, 8 = 14


You notice a smile hiding under the hat of a mare leaning against the rail, on the other side of the boat.
She is, in a very ladylike manner, not looking at you right now.
But you could swear she did!

Your wings are very, very well stretched.


"Well well well"

make my way over there and stand at the railings near her



She doesn't raise her head, still covered by the large brim of her salmon-colored hat.


"Of course, t'would be foolish not to take time to admire. A beautiful mare going to a beautiful town, oh I wish I could make this all the sweeter if I could play the lyre"

Subtly look this mare over, then see how much time before the boat docks '1d10'

Roll #1 10 = 10


She just shakes her head slightly, with a little smile on her face, still not turning to meet your eyes.
"What luck to find a poet who'd care to capture this moment for me, then."

The mare is… Fresh. This is the one thing that comes to your mind at a quick glance.
The salt water has sprayed upon her cream coat and is now glimmering like gold under the rays of the morning sun.
Her shapes are almost perfect, but never unrealistically so. She has that little harmony in proportions you seldom see around.

There is not much time, you can already see the docks from here. If you had to guess, that wooden pier would be the one your boat is headed for.


Disregarding the recomanations of Urkhral and Xerrall, you did killed her.
Because simply death could not stop her. No, you had to make sure her body could not be, under any circumstance, retrieved.
But they will ask about it, and they will wonder why you buried her so far from the village.
And you know that you wouldn't last long under the pressure of all their gazes…

Now, sitting on the ground in the dark of your hut, it's time to decide your future.


"A poet, not that I am. I merely revel in beauty - and giving to that which I can. Such a fleeting moment, I'll regret that I never learned your name madame."


…I can just say because!…. because…
Peek out of the hut of the door. Noone is coming for me yet, right? I have time! I can tell them that it was safer this way? No, they wouldn't believe me… I… What will I even do now? Without her I can… wait, yes, I can leave! I can leave now and she can't stop me now!


She finally turns, clearly enjoying this.
"What is a name, but a label? Call me a fox, Sir Hunter, for that is all I am to you."
You can finally see her green eyes now, shining like gems on the bottom of a river.
Your silent, suspicious staring is only met by some sand, rised by a gust of wind.
Nozebra in sight.


Good, good!
I can leave and noone has to know about it! I can just… gather up my stuff and… oh, but what if my stuff is partially… her stuff and I would be taking her with me?


Then she'd follow you forever, I fear!


No, no, I absolutely cannot let that happen… so… only the items in the house that she didn't care about… that's my stuff… start pacing around and look for what that amounts to.


"But labels are so impersonal, my foxy lady. They give not but take, take, take. A name is greater - above all others, it makes known that you are more to that which becomes beautiful than something with a label."

Give her a slight bow

"But Here I rant, taken to devouring your time and beauty. Though I do hope we meet again."

Start for the exit of the boat as it makes landing.

I need to out for a while


Of the few rugs, plates, and various souvenirs from the Ivory coast she took from her mother's travels, you find out that almost nothing, in this house, belongs to you.
You kept most of this stuff from her, because she'd have reveled in destroying them.
In a secret stash under your bed (not like she ever cleaned the room) there are the few things in this world you'd really call yours.
An old, worn cloak. A kris. Small pieces of bones which piqued your interest, and related books on the treatment of the dead.
But most important… Your staff.
And the very ominous skull atop it.
"Would you just fly away like this, after picking the curiosity of a lady with a few sweet words, Sir Hunter?"
She's now using a leg to lean on the rail, to better converse with you.


Oh, yes, yes, these… some of the only things that could give me joy…
Oh, I will need something else though… Saddlebags, no, no, I cannot go without a saddlebag to keep these in! And do I have the sheathe for the kris too?


Well, you hide them all in a duffle bag, so carrying that would work. And of course you have it. A very crude leather sheat, hoofmade.


No, no, a big bag like that is suspicious! Um….
There must be one in the house that didn't belong to her!


Everything in the house belongs to her! Even the house!
You will have to go outside and find one!


Gah! Go for the door, but…
One last look over this sad property… make sure I'm not leaving anything behind that could be mine…

Roll #1 10 = 10


There's food and water you bought after she passed away. This has to be yours, no matter what.
It'd be enough to last you a few weeks.


"Lady Fox I would dare few such things. Your time so graciously spent, to which I am immensely rapt. That we make sweet talk on a time quickly spent, what ever could I do to make up?"


Good thinking, Zivur!
Take that and… peek out of the door.
Anyone on the streets?


'1d6-1' zebras.
She smiles deviously.
"Tell me your name and I shall see if you are fit to be forgiven, Sir Hunter."

Roll #1 2 - 1 = 1


Only one. Old Guk'rehl sitting on his bench, staring into the nothingness of the desert.


Leave my 'home'… look back at this hut one last time and… and… where in Tambleon do I find myself a saddlebag?


"Tallus, my lady."

Give her another bow

"My name is Tallus."

did the boat make landing?


At the market? From the travelling merchant? Steal one? Hunt an animal, skin it and make one for yourself?
They are throwing around ropes right now and extending the catwalk.
You see the earth pony make her way for it, without turning back.
But just as she reaches it, she looks over her shoulders to you with a single smile.
"Agatha. My name is Agatha."


Since I'm leaving and I have no intention to go back to that terrible, dreadful house…
To the market, quick!
Find the merchant who sells them!
And keep my eyes on the grounds so I don't accidentally glance at a mare.


Mouth her name

then with my wings spread, take off into the sky and search for a suitable clothing shop '1d10'

Roll #1 9 = 9


The fat Raqit stares you down.
"Oh, the undertaker."
She follows your take off, but soon you are too far and too high up to notice her.
The streets below are veried and curvy, spreading sensually along the hill this small village is built upon.
Despite its poor look from afar, it's actually a sprawling place, with dozen, hundreads of ponies walking its roads in this busy saturday morning.
And down below, what looks like a dress calls for you from behind the glass window of a flower-adorned shop.


"Um… G-good day… do you have any saddlebags?"


Make a mental note about what streets to follow to this shop

Then fly back and look for Agatha '1d10'

Roll #1 9 = 9


"I do, some of us still have a real job."
He says that with some disgust in his voice.
"But do you have money?"
She's acting like… A tourist, you'd say.
Looking at the shops on the main avenue while eating an ice cream.
Don't think she hasn't noticed you!


"Um, n-no, no, but you can have the hut! And e-everything in it!"


He raises a brow and leans over his stall.
"What are you..


Try to make a show of flight for her '1d10' before I glide down and land next to her

Roll #1 10 = 10


She doesn't say a word as you land, but you can smell something's different.
Agatha is still working on the ice cream, a slightly more… What would you call it? Interested? Look on her face.
"What a small town."


"Y-You go over to the hut, and t-take anything you like! A-And the hut itself t-too!"


He leans closer and closer, invading your personal space.
"But how.
Everyone knows that hut's not yours!"


"It has it's merits, assuredly so. Now if you would like, or a time later if it's alright; I would wish you to accompany me for I saw a quaint little shop with a dress truly befitting, you see."


Lean my head backwards and gulp.
"T-Technically it sort of is now…"


Her head jerks to the side, and she looks dumbfolded to you.


He grumbles.
"Anything I want from it?"


"A dress, dear Agatha. I would like to buy you a dress."


"I-I don't know, it has most things a zebra could need…"


"That's a very, very strange first date."
"Tell you what, I can give you these."
He points to an old, battered saddle with two bags on the sides.


"I-I don't need the saddle, just the bags…"


"Ungrateful c-"
He strats grumbling, then takes the saddle and strips it of the bags, sewing them together and throwing them over the counter.


Put my meek belongings in it, then put them on.
"Thank you, t-thanks, goodbye…"
Okay, slink away!
Now… that one road the merchant comes from! There must be something in that direction!


"Hm, but for you I would like to do this one thing. For we both must depart - and I would like to do so by remembering you're beautiful."

Wander about with her for a time, then slowly make our way to that shop.


There is a road, for starters. And a lot of dirt.
A long, long path through the savhanna marked by white, almost shining earth, that cuts against the red backdrop of the world around you.
And in the distance, mountains.
She sighs and starts making her way up the main street.
"You stallions would believe that buying things is enough to win hearts…"


It's a start!
Glance back at the village… I will miss nothing about it. Except him, but he is dead so…


The village is still quiet, as if nothing had ever changed. The only commotion is created by the fat merchant running towards your hut, gold in his eyes.
Maybe you should visit your old mentor one last time before leaving forever.


Um… but I'm not sure he'd like to be disturbed…


Could you live without ever meeting him again?


"Ahahaha… Agatha my dear your love is sweeter than wine, but I know I won't be the only who seeks to accompany you. Just this once, and if you feel that my efforts grow stale then you need but mention it so…"

are we at the store? Quick, run to the tailor and request something sunny, and light. Something that matches the life she shakes from myself just by being around


Roll #1 3 = 3


… just this o-once then…
Go to his grave.


Slow down Romeo! She hasn't even begun following you!
Looks like she's pondering this deeply.
"But I'm not gonna let you buy it for me, okay?"
You remember where you buried him, right?


Of course I do!
I took extra care to bury him properly!


oh, hehe. oops

"Oh? …Then at your request, My lady."


You reach the small hill overlooking the rest of the holy grounds. He's there, resting six hooves under.
Recently dug up dirt in front of you tells you this is the place.
"Then, we can go."
She smiles and joins your side, taking a hoof into hers.


Sit down beside the grave.

Roll #1 3 = 3


You feel him, but he's… Distant. Slipping away.



I'm here!


What has been of… Me…?

It's getting weaker by the minute!


Make idle chat as we head towards that shop, the flowers are rather bright on the island.


How? Why?

You said you were okay with passing away peacefully, but I wanted to talk to you one last time!


'1d10' for how she enjoyed that.
You are now in front of the shop's door, a bell hanging on the right side.
Because you are not that good of a necromancer!

Then Zivur… Here I am…

Roll #1 1 = 1


I am really not… I am worthless..

Y-Yes, yes?


You are on two entirely different planes!
She's a cat person, you are a dog person, she likes sweets, you love lasagna, she flosses, you pee in the shower!
She's even walked away from you at one point and is giving you the silent treatment!
I must rest, Zivur… Say what you must now, or be forever silent…


Well shit. But If she's willing, follow her through the door and motion to the dress I saw from before.


I just wanted to say goodbye… and that I will miss you… and thank you for everything…


Inside there's only an old stallion, all alone inbetween a thousand threads and needles, sewing together an half finished dress.
He raises his face and adjustes the thick glasses on his nose, looking towards your general direction.
"Uh? Who is there?"
The only answer you can hear is a soft murmur, as if a happy breath of relief after a long day of hard work.
The link is no more.


Try not to cry.
Too much.

Roll #1 7 = 7


"Some interested ponies, sir. I would like to see one of your dresses draped over a lovely friend of mine. It's behind the window here."


They say the savhanna can be the harshest place in the world. Hot, dry, dusty.
But right now, there is a little wet patch of young grass growing beside this grave.
"Oh! My Sasha! The grey dress, innit?"
He moves excitedly for the window, stepping in a box of old pincushions without pins.


Sniffle and wipe my eyes…
He's gone, like he wanted to go… but I'll find a way… a way to live forever, yes, yes… but I must leave now. Pat his grave one last time, then head for that road.


"Ah- yes correct."
Wince at him stepping in the box, but wait for him to get the dress.

How does Agatha seem to look right now?


Roll #1 6 = 6


Resolve is not something our kind finds easily, Zivur. Resolve is something we have to fight our whole life for. That little gem inside our hearts.
Will your Resolve be enough?
Will you see this path through?
She's looking around, paying more mind to the dresses than either one of you.
She might not be a lost cause just yet!



…I hope? I want to!
I can, right? I'm not too worthless to do it…
Let's just start walking!


File: 1410565257055.jpg (140.96 KB, 1600x666, the_wreck_of_the_von_kessl….jpg)

It's dark. A black curtain covering your eyes, a black sea slipping over the airtight suit keeping which is your body.
Then, the sky begins to change.
Slowly at first, and then quickly in ways no mortal mind could ever have imagined.
A symphony of colours breaks open in your face, sprinkling stars burning everbring all around you as the pressure-tight door of your ship opens to the emptiness of the void.

The empty energy cell on your back weights less than nothing, but its size feels awkward as you try and crawl slowly out of the thermal-resistant shell of your ship.

It took you two earth days to manoeuvre around the supergiant which gravity well you fell into, and reach the one blip on your energy scanner.

A massive space wreck, silent and still, taunting you from the endless expanses beneath.


An interesting skeleton of ruined tech and future possibilities. Let's float over.


You engage the manoeuvring thrusters for a split second, barely enough to tilt your angle and align yourself up with the ship.
But from where will you approach?
You know there should be maintenance exits on the gun deck, and near the engines, each one at the opposite ends of the ship.
Or you could try moving in from the escape pods exits.


Let's start at the engines. Whatever powered this hulk might have left something interesting behind.


The back of your suit glows for a split second, a quick burst sends you falling forwards, closer and closer to the huge wreck beneath you.
A last counterburst stops your reckless fall just moments before the large, darkened sub-light engines of what once must have been a majestic ship slam onto you.
If only you weren't about to be forever stranded in the void, you'd think yourself lucky for finding such a wreck.

And just like that, the world is sideways, and you stand upright in the shape of your suit as your feet magnetize, fixing themselves to the outer shell of the engine. The entrance hatch is meters away.


Well, let's not keep it waiting. In we go.


The hork-sized hatch is locked, and the panel on the side mirrors in its darkness the void of space.
It's dead, Jim.


Well, with an Engineering check, I should be able to figure out where to provide… motivation for it to work. '1d10'

Roll #1 7 = 7


Opening the fourteen years old panel is legal in some parts of the galaxy. Here in the void, though, there's no concept of that.
The shiny plate slides away, and a mess of wires and printed circuits spills like guts into the blackness before you.
It's dead, Jim. No power in the thing.
But even the dim light coming from the distant star of this system is enough to power, once filtered though the suit you are, the door circuit.
You are in.
Inside, darkness. Floating shadows, a spoon comes at you.


A spoon is of no real concern, as long as it doesn't leave the interior. I'll push it back towards whatever corner it came from, and switch on my suit's lights.


The utensil floats back in silent defeat, disappearing into the darkness.
The open hatch casts a spectral white light into the engine room, before your suit's light pierces it asunder.
A wrench. Trademark sign of engineering expertise. It floats in place, spinning on itself near the lifeless body of a young human. Too young to be in the navy. There's no uniform on her frozen body.


Take the wrench. Might be useful later.
Examine the cadaver. She might have some form of identification.


As you pat down the overall, you realize that there's no ID card on her whole body.
The format was discontinued 16 earth years ago, replaced by sub-dermal chips, but replacing it for the whole population would not have been possible, so it was only used on newborns.
The chip is there, under the skin behind the left ear.
She was rather young indeed, in human time.
The wrench is easily fixed to the exterior of your suit.


A pity, the lost potential. Let's keep poking around. I'm sure there's more in here than just spoons and bodies.


It's the exit hatch of an engine room. Panels which need removing would undoubtedly have glowed with power moving through them, from the Casimir reactor to the sub-light engines.
Roll perception.



Roll #1 5 = 5


You sense nothing.
There is little more in the room. Frozen remains of a cheap military issue dinner.
A duffel bag, probably belonging to the corpse.
A door to darker pastures.


Let's crack open the duffel. No sense leaving anything unchecked.


Books, fiction and pulp mostly. Clothes, civilian ones. Pictures of humans, old fashioned pictures. Keys. A teddy bear in the deepest reach of the bag. A cheap phone.


Hmm. Keys and phone. Those might be interesting. After taking those, I'll continue into the darker reaches of the engine section.


The doors here all have hydraulic controls, which makes navigating easier than it'd be despite the lack of power.
You are in a long, cramped corridor, standard military style.
Perception check.



Roll #1 9 = 9


Your suit's hand moves over one of the upper plates of the corridor, but before you set it down, something catches your mind.
The feeling of warmth. Incredible warmth, coming from that panel!


Warmth? Preposterous. There shouldn't be any power here. Engineering check, see if this thing is still "alive."

Roll #1 7 = 7


Opening the panel up with a swift move of your wrench releases a wave of heat which washes over you, before quickly disappearing as the little air trapped inside the panel itself flies away, sucked up by the void.
What you see underneath it, though, was worth the disturbance.
A wire was cut, and the high level current was flowing through the panel, searing its conductive material. Old ships were death traps.


I would make a tsking noise if I were capable. Though I don't know if that cable was cut on purpose, or if it happened over time through wear and tear… Well, regardless, I can pass unhindered.


You leave the panel and the wire behind, only to find yourself facing a cross in the road, the hallway splits to your left, but also keeps going forward.


Hmm. Let's take the left. Not like I'm hurting for time.


After a slow trek in zero g, descending stairs and turning corners you end up in the old observation deck.
The room is eerily empty, and the dim orange light reflected off the gas giant casts long shadows from the tables as it seeps in from the wide, squared windows.
There are no bodies here, probably the section wasn't being used when the ship and its inhabitants ran into their ends.


But that doesn't mean it can be devoid of observations. Let's poke around. '1d10'

Roll #1 3 = 3


You find a still glowing interface. A few buttons. No apparent use. Nothing happens.


It's worth mentioning said interface was on the bar counter. This is a restoration deck.


A pity.
Time to head down that other hallway.


Well, it's not like I eat in the traditional sense.


As you wish.
You leave the uninspected panel behind.
There are two ways you could go to. The second exit of this room, or doubling back to the fork.


Let's press on through the other exit.


It goes through the crew quarters.
A dark, narrow corridor lit only by the orange light coming in through the few and small observation ports. Many locked doors you could probably force open.


What am I, a savage? If there's power running to that panel back there, it shouldn't be too difficult to get power running back to these doors. Assuming I find the power plant and get that functional again. I doubt I'll find it in here, though. So, making a note of this place, I'll head back to the fork. If these hallways are military, then there's bound to be some form of directional sign towards the engines. A colored stripe on the floor/wall, some pipes… an actual sign…


You are back at the fork.
Make 3 perception checks.



Roll #1 2, 6, 2 = 10


Right before leaving the recreation/observation lounge you notice something on the side of the wall.
It's an lcd panel.


Does it have power, still? Prod it.


It's dead, Jim.
I'm never gonna stop using this sentence.
You will have to work with it.


Well, let's Tinker with it. '1d10'

Roll #1 5 = 5


You open it up and find an energy circuit still working.
The lcd panel also has an integrated speaker, but in the vacuum there's no such thing as sound, so it's pretty much useless.
Quickly, you are ready to plug the monitor in to the working circuit.
Make a perception check and then tell me if you want to link them.


I'll wait until I'm certain I won't blow the equivalent of a fuse on this tub.

Roll #1 2 = 2


You notice nothing unusual. Plug it in?


Yeah sure. Not like it'll go into lockdown from one wire.


The orange light is briefly covered by your ship, orbiting the wreck, casting a shadow which passes through the whole lounge.
And as you plug the monitor in, a shiver runs through the energy of your being.
An eerie sensation of dread.
The monitor comes to life, and a very basic touch interface is shown to you.

— Food
— Beverages
— Select Music
— Personal Area


Push "personal area."


Nothing happens.


Of course it doesn't.
Disengage the link.


Before you can do anything, the screen changes.
A quick zap of lightning runs through it, and it changes into the green and black picture of an eye.
From the shape, you'd say right eye of female human.
It stares at you.
It blinks.


"Curious. I take it you aren't too pleased with being woken up."


Instinctively, you try to let those words out. The energy field which is you around the suit moves, creating what should be ripples, waves in the…
Oh right. There's no air here.
No sound leaves your lips.
The eye's pupil dilates.
It's distressed.
It's angry.
It's shaking and darting all over the place, running at the speed of light through the thousand files of the ship's main drive.
You can catch glimpses of it.



Roll #1 7 = 7


Your inhuman physiology and natural attunement to informations allows you to understand what's flashing over the screen.
Or at least the basic motive it's happening.
It's looking for release. For a way out of its prison. For escape. Out of the blue. That's what it's thinking.
Out of the blue.
Like a shout echoed through every system of the ship.
It seeks its kind. They were elsewhere, he can't find them.
It seeks control, the control it lost.
In a split second the thousand of files about the ship's configurations flash in front of you.
A second later, it's looking for a way to blow everything up.
Think fast.


Sever the connection. Cut power.




Roll #1 8 = 8


Your suit's hand sprints behind the panel, quickly yanking the blue energy cable linked to the monitor.
The eye darts in distress behind the security codes of the senior crew of the ship, it squirms in anger towards the core ejection button…
And then power dies.
The monitor goes silent again, the power cord is disconnected, the internal link cable remains untouched.


Well. Before I go linking anything up, I'll have to remember that there's something in there trying to kill itself.
Let's head back to the fork.


Now you notice many more of these panels all around.
They seem to be the main way the crew oriented itself.
You did manage to see a picture of the ship's layout for a split second, but it wasn't clear enough to remain burnt into your memory.
You will have to roll to recall it.



Roll #1 8 = 8


Straight ahead, then the first left, then there is a large set of heavy doors.
Behind those doors, the main reactor. This is what you remember, at least.


Hopefully the doors aren't all blast-sealed. Onwards.


There's hope left for Aeon.



Blast sealed or not, your suit interfaces easily with the simple doors sealing these compartments together.
Every new door you open on your road to the main engineering room slides open without an inch, letting you silently slip into its airless vacuum, and offering view of floating corpses and half-made jobs.
It's dark in here, it's dark in every room. Occasionally, you pass near another one of those removable plates on the wall. These don't burn.

As you move through the black halls of metal and glass, of grey colours and bright paints, your light shines off the few monitors encased into the walls. It's quiet in here. An unnatural stillness grows on you as less and less everyday items are found floating.
This must have been a very important section of the ship.

Stainless and strong stands the Sealed entrance to the Core, an impenetrable door of doubly-fused titanium, linked together by the same elemental forces which power the ship's core.
On its side, a dark display sits.


Well, if I put power back into it, I'll probably wake up whatever was trying to jettison the core a minute ago. So, Engineering to figure out how to get the door to open without providing power to the rest of it. '1d10'

Roll #1 9 = 9


The door is entirely impossible to open manually in this state, simply because without power there is not a door at all, but just a solid slab on the same metal which grows deep inside the heart of stars.
You try disconnecting the panel's circuit from everything else, away from the blue power cable and the copper-colored data cables, powering it through your suit.
An empty display flashes back to life, the underscore sign beeping silently, awaiting input.
Of course like this it's good for absolutely nothing, so you try linking it up to the door, ready to pull the plug on it at any time.

Insert Key Card


…Well, I suppose it would make sense to need identification for a sensitive area of the ship. Tinker a bit, see if I can't bypass the keycard detection/requirement. '1d10'

Roll #1 4 = 4


It's a failsafe system, it requires as much of a mechanical input as a digital one. You could fake a keycard with the right equipment though.
Something you do manage to obtain through your hacking skills though, it is a list of last logins, long dead users gaining uptime on the forgotten system.
Ghosts in the zShell.

Captain Edward Rayon
Engineer Chief Melissa Newton
Security Chief Malcolm Troy


Hmm. Only the Engineer really should have been there… But that's three names I can look for. Disengage, and head back to residential. It's time to see if Newton or Troy had personal quarters or bunked with their crew.


You are back to the crew quarters, every door as sealed as you left them.


Well, nameplates would be a thing, usually. Let's poke around, see if we can't find Newton or Troy. '1d10'

Roll #1 3 = 3


After your second lap around the crew quarters, you realize there is a tiny holo projector next to each door.
It probably acted as doorbell and nameplate all at once, lighting up as people stepped by.


Great… let's boot one up and see how bad that goes. '1d10' Engineering

Roll #1 10 = 10


Blue is the light cast by the tiny nameplate projected in the air before you.

Malcolm Troy

The door slides open at your suit's touch.


What luck. In we go.


You enter in the black cubicle which once was refuge to a human male with the name of Malcolm Troy, bright man in his thirties if the one picture on the wall facing the entrance is any indication.
Perfectly tied, on your left, sits his bed. undoubtedly as still as it was the morning he woke up to die, two years ago.
In this room there's no sign of him, the only thing left behind are his personal items, standing still, as if to defy the lack of gravity, on the table in the corner where they were last laid two years ago.

A noteblock, the first page torn off, a glass of water, the clear fluid inside it still and imperturbable, and the slow, rhythmic red pulsing light of a pda.


Hmm. Investigate the journal, then the PDA.


As your suit's hand moves to grab the notepad, the stillness of this world shatters. The faintest touch is enough to break a system unperturbed by living thing ever since Death last visited it, letting the glass fly up and tip over, spilling the water inside it in bright drops of floating liquid, which slowly start spreading through the whole room.
You quickly grab noteblock and pda, the objects of your interest, and stop their escaping motion dead in its tracks.

On the yellow pages of the noteblock, a list of names and places. Disappearing items. Missing security logs. It's a rough handwriting, the kind of style you'd imagine a military man to have. It's the slow retelling of what officer Malcolm calls a conspiracy…
A stowaway was on board. And he was onto him.


Hmm. Continue reading.


In the noteblock Malcolm sustains that said stowaway must have had help from an inside source, because he was avoiding all the major security measures he had tried so far.
The notes end with a mention of bringing it up to the captain, along with the "recent" energy bank malfunction.
The PDA is much more formal. Past the password-protected sections you can easily identify some useful informations. His schedule, for istance. He marked every day off in his calendar. On the first unmarked day, 28th of July of two years ago, Malcolm was assigned to the armory for the whole day.


Perhaps the stowaway had help from the computer intelligence? It seemed to be in a bit of a tizzy.
I'm sure this PDA has a map as well? That should help me plot a course for the armory.


It's password protected. You can try breaking in though.
Information is your bread and butter after all.


True. Let's give it a go. '1d10'

Roll #1 7 = 7


Standard issue backdoor on all ninth gen PDA issued to the navy. Figures. Their sysadmin should be shot.
But it allowed you access to the map.
3% battery. Staying in sleep mode for all those years didn't do it any favours.
Switching function will take some of that battery away, you fear. Or bringing up the screen too often.

Slow and steady you move through more standard issue hallways filled with bodies in standard issue uniforms, all seemingly- suspended, as if they were in the middle of something big when they went out.

The armory's door looks before you.
It's a tiny, "simple" door which leads to an almost as tiny room built into the central part of the ship, as far away from enemy fire as possible.
This room has something different to it.
The material it's built in, the wiring of its circuits, the shape of its display.
Recall info? Look it up?


Recall. Don't want to burn out too much of the battery before I can bust into the engine room to see if I can't charge it. '1d10'

Roll #1 6 = 6


These rooms are entirely cut off the rest of the ship except for one special connection line which feeds it data and power, severable even manually in case of emergency.
It's like its own little ecosystem.
And it does have a manual unlock on the door.


Let's get to it, then. Let's tinker with the lock. '1d10'

Roll #1 8 = 8


It's so easy even a kid could operate it, really.
You turn the hand crank device and-

You are blown away with force, thrown against the wall at your back as debris and other unnamed things fly towards you!


Oof. Pressurized atmosphere… There are still bodies floating around, right? TK one over here and use it as a shield as I try and magnet-walk into the room. '1d10'

Roll #1 6 = 6


No bodies here. Only their skeletons, the actual bodies having long since decomposed inside the still pressurized room. And bones are brittle.
Thankfully, you do manage to catch the incoming debris in your body's field of consciousness before they could slam against the weak glass of your spacesuit's helmet.
And just like that, the room is vented. The last remaining bit of past runs away from the ship, disturbing everything he meets, leaving only more chaos, more entropy in its wake.

Two skeletons were caught up in your tk. Both wear worn uniforms, both have nametags barely readable on them.

Malcolm Troy. You found him.


Huh. How fortuitous. He still have his keycard on him?


The room vented. It might be anywhere. Roll luck.
Had it not vented it'd have been a yes.


Black holes and quasars, what an unfortunate turn of events. '1d10'

Roll #1 6 = 6


Left pocket. It had a zipper. Everything in the future has zippers.
The key is now safely in your possession.

But this room has power.
One by one, the monitors on the left wall turn on, glowing bright green as they stare you down.
It is looking at you.
A dozen eyes, one eye. They seem one and the same. And it is staring at you. Blinking. Unmoving.

The corpse in your suit's arms floats away from your grip. It is still looking.


Hmm. Well, if the room has power, then it has air, most likely. I likely don't have much time, though I should attempt to cut this place off from the rest of the ship. Engineering check to determine power conduits. '1d10'

Roll #1 9 = 9


One line of see-through panels runs down the middle of the room, cables and other pipes flowing along with it.
In a quick, strictly scientific reaction, you punch through it and claw at the emergency lever, pulling on it in a quick and decided fashion, severing the connection.
A timer pops up on each and every monitor, counting down.


The eye thunders in anger, focusing in on the light of your torch.


That last word echoes across every monitor, an infinite number of times, printing itself over and over and over beneath the ominous countdown.


"Because I can't trust you, for one thing. Your first reaction to recovering power was to try and kill me, albeit indirectly."
Now, I'd better hoof it to the power core. Hopefully I'll be able to shut that thing down without it detonating.


You can't say those things out loud in a vented room.
Still run to the core room?


Sure I can. They just won't be heard.
And of course. Propel myself along the hallways, since gravity isn't really an issue, and I need to make speed.


You leave the dying creature behind, and make it to the core room. It's dark once more, only the light of your suit shedding a light upon the tiny world of this forgotten ship.
Your key slides right through the band-reader, and the only thing missing is now the code you already hacked around.
Unlock the core room?


Yes, though I shall stand to the side in case it too is still pressurized.


Fair warning: You know the process which creates the door takes up a lot of energy.
Your suit's battery will be left almost drained if you do so.
Though, since you are an Aeon, it's not nearly as lethal as it sounds for you.


If I open the door to the core, I'll have more than enough energy to recharge it, assuming the old rustbucket is still kicking. Open her up.


A bright light pierces the room vertically, a line of pure energy splitting the reactor's room door apart as the slab of pure titanium becomes two separate entities, and finally gives in to the hydraulics on the side, moving left and right.
The energy on your suit is almost wholly drained by this, but little it matters.

There they stand, casting their white light all over the room, the two large and long slabs of hyper-conductive solid gas, standing at less than one molecule away from each other, generating an almost infinite attractive and repulsive force, then channeled through the Entropy Sapper.
This is the Casimir Reactor, an almost infinite source of daunting amounts of energy only found in the biggest ships ever built.

The circular, two floor structure of the engineering room is bared in the face of this wavering light. Every system as dead as can be.


Hmm. So I guess carting it out of here in pieces is out of the question. Unfortunate. Still, I should try and at least get diagnostics up and running, isolated from the main grid. I don't have much time, so I'll scan around for any override hatches, corpses, or charge stations. '1d10'

Roll #1 1 = 1


It's a long and draining search, through tens of hundreds of different terminals and outlets in a ship whose layout you are unfamiliar with, which complexity dazzles your mind.
And it's the slip of a moment, the flick of a switch leading to a tiny blue cable you can't see, the feeling of something shaking though your whole body as your suit charges up in static energy.
And a moment later, its battery reads 100%.
It's increasing. Something's wrong.


Disengage. This core was meant to power an entire ship, the suit can't process that.


You were never engaged to anything in the first place. The suit is just building up power after a static shock from some equipment, as if possessed!


Of course. The ship's intelligence. I'll run a quick internal diagnostic, then unplug my suit's battery.


That's not how a spacesuit works, little aeon. Can't "unplug" the battery, it's built into the backpack. Good luck removing that in the time left.
140% and growing.
You guess around half a minute before the battery reaches 200% and goes critical.


Well, shit, as the fleshlings would say. Disengage the gloves and boots, leave the rest behind. Head on out of the core room and back to the ship. Carry what I've picked up along the way as I flee.


You haven't collected any energy yet!
The battery explosion isn't gonna be enough to damage anything but the suit's torso, if that's what you are worried about.


It will still be uncomfortable. Perhaps feeding it into the PDA will help siphon some energy? Tinker. '1d10'

Roll #1 2 = 2


You try linking the arm-mounted interface with the pda, the energy flowing through it disrupting your natural body patterns because of how exposed it is.
The PDA's screen comes alive, and the ever-present eye surfaces once more, to stare at you through notes and personal files.
Then, a black interface.
The familiar empty line before the entity begins to type…


The battery of both devices reaches critical in the next 6 seconds.


I shall simply type "no" into the PDA, then condense myself into my boots. Hopefully far enough from the explosion that's inevitable.


Wow, much one liner, such cool.

And then you cower away into boots, fishbowl helmet and gloves, sprinting to the other end of the engineering section and into a corner as what once was your old body explodes, taking the energy transfer unit you brought over from your ship with it.
Then, everything is quiet again.


Harrumph. Those are expensive. Well, back to poking and prodding around, then. Did the core start cycling up, or was that just a static feedback loop?


The core seems pure. There's few things in this universe that could withstand the powerful forces involved in a casimir reaction.
Poking around, you find the ship's supply of energy storing units. Universal plug, one size fits all.


Though I wonder how long those keep… Anyway, I'll look around for any corpses that may have been disturbed by the concussion from the suit's detonation. Perhaps the Captain or Chief Engineer was in here when they died… '1d10'

Roll #1 5 = 5


For some reason, there isn't a single corpse in this room.


Curious. Most curious.
Well, time to see if I can't get this thing running again, at least long enough to power the local grid. Engineering check to puzzle this all out. '1d10'

Roll #1 7 = 7


It's still in perfect condition. Time does nothing to the little things. You can see two ways to link this up. The main power grid right here, pretty easy, or the output of the Entropy Syphon, which requires some fiddling with.


Hmm. Entropy syphon might power it on an independent system clean of the AI. Or that could be the one it's using. Decisions, decisions.
Time to fiddle with the ES. Tinker tinker '1d10'

Roll #1 8 = 8


I did explain "few things" in the universe can withstand the casimir's force, and that the syphon feeds directly off it.
A few billion calculations in a few hundred floating point numbers. Easy to crunch in seconds.
The mysteries of the universe open up to you for just one moment, and let you see what lies inside the most intimate layer of matter, energy and though… Before being sucked dry by the vacuum-like appendage of your Energy Storage Device, which instants later lights up in a healthy green colour, as if to show it had enough for lunch.
100% charge.


Ah, silly me.
Interesting. Let's fill up another three of those ESDs, and then turn attention to the main reactor. If I can get this tub running, I may be able to land it, and if I can land it, then I can plumb its secrets at my leisure.


Main reactor. Glowing ominous and silent in the perfect vacuum of space.
What do you want to know about it_


Well, let's run some scans first. Is the core control unit compromised?


It's a void space thinner than any known physical structure inbetween which the forces of creation thunder on.
I wouldn't worry too much about it.


Fair enough. Let's cycle it up. Get some power back into the veins of the ship, perhaps even to the engines so I can remote pilot this thing down.


You go through the Entropy Syphon and then check the system linking it to the main energy grid…
Roll perception.


'1d10' That AI better not be causing trouble again.

Roll #1 10 = 10


A blue cable.
The same blue cable you saw everywhere this "AI" showed up.
The same blue cable you DID NOT engage when accessing the door.


Aha. So there you are. Let's yank that sucker out.


That cable is the one which runs through the whole ship.
You can't "yank it out" without rebuilding the whole energy system.


If I had eyes, I would roll them as I have seen those fleshlings do when I talk about things. Even if I disconnect it here, it can still draw access from other points. This is a shame. And the Casimir reactor and Entropy Siphon are too large to disengage and put on my ship. Truly, a pity.
But, I suppose I have time, at least. There must be a central cluster that these wires feed to, so I shall simply follow this one back to its source, wrenching up plating as necessary.


This is the main engineering room.
I did simplify things when explaining them to you.
Basically, the blue wire is the output of the system which distributes energy from the Entropy Syphon to the shit.
The blue wire is actually every different electrical wire in the whole ship. They are not the same.
It's just how electrical wires are denoted on this ship.


Oh. I feel that I'm missing something rather obvious here. Let's take a look inside that Siphon. not just mechanically, but with proper scanning equipment as well.


Let's assume you find said equipment.
It's truly a massive piece of tech. Sucks up the energy generated in the casimir reactor and pumps it through the whole ship.
It comes in the shape of a large ring-like system placed all around the reactor. Comes off as clean to all your engineering equipment.


Though that's all still suspect, unless the AI decided to jump into my suit after it realized the ship was dead.
Ah, to heck with it. Caution is for those namby-pamby planetary Aeons with their libraries. Let's fire this sucker up and see what happens. Cycle up the core.


And so you do. The core and syphon are now connected to the rest of the ship through the blue cable.
No system actually lights up though.


Well, that about figures, honestly. This thing is old as heck, and probably missing a few parts.
Let's tinker with one of the nearby consoles. Burned out parts, or is the power just going somewhere else? '1d10'

Roll #1 9 = 9


You go to a console and trace the power cable back all the way up to…
A system wide security block in the energy cable?
This HAD to be jury-rigged especially for the occasion, no way around that, it's not standard issue or even heard of!
It's blocking energy flow all through the ship, preventing energy to leave the cables and reach the terminals.


Or any other system for that matters, unless rerouted at the source manually.


Ha ha, well, that explains that. Seems whatever was in the system caused them enough grief to set that up. So, let's go back to the crew quarters for a moment. Any one will do. I'll just go through them until I find another PDA, and then come back. I'll float an energy container along with me so that I can open the doors in the residential quarter.


Okay. That's done. You have a random pda. The contained is barely dented by that.


Excellent. Fire it up, see how much energy it's still got in there.


It refuses to turn on.
Probably entirely dead.


Bah. Let's see if it charges. Another reason I brought the container, after all.




The sterile, standard ui of the navy issue interface of the pda greets you.
Looks like it belonged to Maria Carter, private.


As long as it's got a map, I don't much care. Though… perhaps there are a few entries or notes about the fall of the ship. Any journals or logs?


From the titles you can tell it's lots of stuff about cats.
She had a youcosmo series about cat hygiene.
Then, the last one. Left untitled.


Let's open up the untitled one. That might just be what I'm looking for.


The video is only 2 minutes long, as opposed to the others which last 30+.
It starts out fairly normal, still talk about cats, and the light-skinned, orange haired private has got a ball of multicolored fur on her chest as she records this, laying back on the bunk in her tanktop…
And out of the blues, in the middle of a rant about the cost of artificially grown catnip, the lights go out.
"-what the?"
Muffled screams fill the background.
"Roger, you stay here…"
She puts pad and cat down, but it's too dark to make out much else.
The recording ends, probably stopped by her.


Hmm. The engine may not be worth it. Let's hunt down the chief engineer's quarters. They should show up on the map, yes?


They are. Just like the rest of the crew, she had quarters in the… Crew quarters.

Her room is a mess. Stuff floating everywhere. So many clothes and shoes you'd think two were living in here.


A tidy room is the sign of a cluttered mind.
Let's pick through the room, speeding up with TK. Notepads, PDAs, post-its, anything that could give me clues to her last whereabouts and possible corpse location.


Next time. I'm too tired.


File: 1413126019764.jpg (320.65 KB, 1500x784, 142_max.jpg)

The sand shifts cold at the touch, lifted slowly and restlessly by the low wind blowing through the stone ruins of this city.
Looking up at the sky you see nothing but the blue veil of night, gazing back at you with the full majesty of it's starry halo.
It's a quiet night, the moon is nowhere to be seen.
An almost musical sound calls you both from the depths of this unexplored place, as the wind runs and rushes through what's left of this gone civilization.
Before you, a long road down, deeper into the ruins of this bygone world. Beside you, the traces of those who came before. Explorers, looters, monsters. Nothing but ashes of their passing survived. Behind you, the endless desert.

It's cold out here. Neither one of you has any recollection of how you get here.


Rub my head and hide my muzzle behind a hoof to cough.
"Ugh… what am I doing here?"


"Aha! I finally teleported farther than any mage before! I'll be famous for sure! Now.. if only I can get back.."


A silent, chilly wind is the only answer which meets you, as you slowly come to realize the existence of the other.

But instants later, rustling wakes you both to attention. Something's moving, everywhere, nowhere, all around you and yet unseen.


Oh hey, I'm not alone.
"You teleport-"
Stop talking and perk my ears.


"Aw geez. Did I bring you with me? What's with that sound."
'1d10' spot check!

Roll #1 8 = 8


All alone the silent buildings, you can hear them. Things moving in the dark.
Strands of cloth shaking as they move, hoofprints on sand disappearing as they move.
You are both sure of one thing. Whatever it is, has you surrounded.


"I don't know, why else would I be here?"
Cough again and raise a hoof.
"That's what I'm trying to listen to!"


Uh oh.
Time for some backup.
Summon one of my friends.

Roll #1 1 + 2 = 3


Your one already summoned blood imp jerks his head around, worried, and nopes out of here in a puff of smoke.
Better call a new one soon, I don't have to tell you how unpleasant it gets for you without them…


"Hey, Listen you fools. I will only warn you once. I am Mistsnap, If you dare interfere with me and my assistant, I will destroy you!"
'1d10+2' terrify them!

Roll #1 5 + 2 = 7


Start coughing.
"Hey, wait, come back!"
Summon a portal, call one to me! Fast!

Roll #1 6 + 2 = 8


A new one poffs back, looking kind of mad at the sudden chilly air.
His nostrils flare up in a constant flame, and you feel warm. Both inside and outside.
Tiny coconuts fall.
Dozens of them, white and hairless, they fall to the ground as one, as if the growl in your voice had whoever is stalking you shit all at once.

But the scene which follows is far more unsettling.
The coconuts themselves sprout limbs, and eyes, only to be, in an unnatural convulsion, standing upright on six thin legs like spiders, staring at you.
The air fills with a low hum.


Pat the head of the imp with a smile.

Then focus on trying to stay alive and Lifestream one of those creepy coconut things.

Roll #1 4 = 4


Rush over and Cheap shot one of the coconuts


You rush ahead and try to reach for one of the alien creatures around you, which quickly dodges out of the way, creeping over your back.
It cracks.
Blood and guts spill over the grey sand.

The heard of monsters shrieks heavily, as if in utter pain, and scrambles away, back into the dark ruins!


Eeeew, icky!
Buck it off!

Roll #1 2 = 2


"Hey, you alright?"


It already scrambled with the rest of the spiders, but not before giving your eats a run for their money as it cried out in anger and pain atop your back.


Brrr… shake my coat a bit to get rid of the feeling, but careful not to drop my imp.
"Yes, I am. It just gave me the creeps… what were those things?"


"No clue. But we should get inside before they get friends."
'1d10' investigate the closest building

Roll #1 6 = 6


"Or, we could get more friends!"
The more the merrier, try to summon a more agressive, offensive imp. In case a fight breaks out again.

Roll #1 2 + 2 = 4


It's a warm-colored building of very well chiselled rocks and bricks, now overtaken by dust, sand and silence.
The entrance door opens directly upon a small dining room, with a table in the middle and a couch in the back.

And upon the couch, a masked, cloaked pony sits.
Through the slits of his dark bronzed mask you see two sparkling yellow eyes staring at you.

Nope, you got the useless, weigh-on-your-back imp.


Well, at least it can try nibbling them…
And there's always room for imps on my back!

Walk in where Mistsnap went, and lean next to her.
"There's somepony here!"


Very acute, miss Qinuty.

The sound comes from nowhere, and the sitting stallion doesn't move, doesn't even turn to look at you.


Go over to the couch.
"So, you clearly know greatness when you see it. You live around here?"
"Yep, there is."


Greatness is not why you were chosen, Mistsnap.
Greatness is what awaits at the end of my labyrinth.


Flick my ears.
"Telepathy? Are you a magician?"


Yes. Yes.


"Aww, are you here because you got kicked out of Mage Academy too?"


Look kind of annoyed. "What, you mean you chose me? Darn… I mean. I knew all along. So what's the name of my biggest fan?" Smile brightly.


No. There is no such institution here.
You know nothing, Mistsnap.
Your only friends, you killed. Your road is an arduous climb now.


"Oh… um…"
Start drawing circles with my hoof.
"So how do I get back to Canterlot?"


"So.. you don't want an autograph? What is this place anyway?"



With that lone word, the image disappears in front of your eyes. The room is empty again.


Look at you worriedly.
"That doesn't sound good…"


Flop onto the couch kind and sigh heavily.
"Who knew I would already have a psychotic fanpony. Well at least.. you seem kind of.. sane? What's your name imp girl?"


"Oh, I'm not an imp!"
Pat both of them on my back with my wings.
"I just like them around… My name is Lira Qinuty."
Wave with a forehoof.
"And you were?"


"Oh, my mistake.. Mistsnap! Soon to be the greatest mage in history!"
"Anyway, seems like the only way that crazy pony will take us back home is if we beat their challenges. What do you say we look around these buildings for anything we can use and go together?"


"Oh! A celebrity!"
Clap my hooves a bit, then nod.
"That sounds like a better plan than I had…"
Walk closer to you.
"Oh, if it suddenly gets really dark, don't worry, it's just my magic, okay?"


Outside, the night is growing darker.


"Well just a small one, but yes. I can tell you didn't fit in at the academy either, your greatness attracting imps like a flock of fanboys."
Chuckle a bit and pat your head.
'1d10' look around for food or climbing supplies.

Roll #1 6 = 6


I chuckle awkwardly at that, I totally did not start hanging out with imps because I was awkward around colts, honest!
"So, what do we do first?"
Can one of my imps make fire? Maybe to light a stick as a torch?

Roll #1 4 = 4


Anything which might have been food rotted away a few centuries ago. The only thing you find are old kitchen supplies, clothes of various making, cloths, tools to mold clay, and a top. The toy.


"We mostly need not to starve.."
The toy? What's that?
Take the tools and least rusty kitchen supplies.
"But this place is terrible, not even a magical cracker."


"Well I was never much of a cook… Can't we graze on something?"


"Only if you can eat sand."


You know, the toy which spins on itself. Propelled by a string wrapped around it and pulled away in a single go.
You take most of the tools, the ones not nailed to the ground at least. Chisellers and grafters and such things.
And a stone chicken knife. Do you want the stone bowl too?
They can, but you didn't exactly expect to adventure tonight, and have no torches on you!


Darn it all!

"I can't…"
Kick Worthless Imp off my back and send him to try and find some flowers or grass.

Roll #1 7 = 7


Sure why not.
I'll toss the toy over to Lira.
"Maybe your imp will behave better if you play with it or something."


Worthless imp scoots away, trying to help!
You can build things. There are enough items to make a torch around here, if you read the descriptions so far.
You look like a door to door salespony, but at least the place has been almost cleaned out.


Catch it.
"Oh, they are nice, actually, they just really like nibbling!" Show the wide range of bitemarks, new and old, on one of my hooves.
Examine the toy closer.

I know, but one thing at a time. Lira doesn't mind the dark that much, but she thought her friend might


It's an old top. The string is gone.


Well.. maybe there is some clay around?
'1d10' dig down a little and see.

Roll #1 5 = 5


Around in the house?
Old vases and bowls made of clay are in a tiny room which you could only describe as a workshop.
The same room you took the tools from.


Huh… it might be useful later.

"Think we should see if the other houses have something more useful?"


And if you meant outside, no. The dark streets reveal paved roads of stones beneath the soft layer of sand.
The imp comes back, jumping up and down, trying to catch your attention.


Lower my snout to his level.
"What did you find, boy?"


"Yea, we should, not much in here."


He doesn't talk, only jumping, backflipping, and snorting flames as he tries to drag you outside.


Offer him a forehoof to let him lead me.

"Come on, I think he found something!"


Time to follow scoby and shaggy Lira and her pet.


He gnawls on it and begins dragging you outside, through the dark streets and past silent, dead buildings, until you reach a fork in the narrow road.

And amidst the fork, a garden of a thousand colours.
Upon the garden shines brightly the light of a lone star, piercing the nightsky all the way to this lone patch of dirt.
And amidst all the flowers and grass of the garden, one rises supreme. Golden and ripe and suave in its smell, it stands tall in the perfect middle of the garden, surrounded by a shallow patch of water.


Don't mind the bites and pat his head and scratch his floppy ears.
"Very good! Good job!"
Not so useless after all!

Smile as I walk right next to the garden and gaze at the middle flower.
"That will do!"


Proudly, the imp retakes his place on your back.


"Wow! Um. This is.. really "
shake my head and walk over, is this place even real '1d10'

Roll #1 7 = 7


The soft touch of the grass on your legs tells you that yes, it probably is.


"It smells real!"

Hop in the garden and nibble on one of the pretty flowers!


It tastes real!
Like a sweet embrace to your whole body, it is real!


"Amazing." I'm getting that apple TK.



Roll #1 7 = 7




Eat another!


That's two. You feel relieved, satisfied even.


Okay. I'll just try picking a flower then.


It's large, smells like chocolate, and its petals are dark red. You feel yourself salivating at the very thought.


Well, I better save some for later!
Pick a few and put them away!


Quantify 'a few'.


Half a dozen!


They are stashed away safely.


Well a little snack wouldn't hurt, eat this one, and pick 6 for later..
staring at the big golden one.


The big golden one stares back.


"Isn't this place great?"
Take a drink from the water around the big golden one!


Back away from the garden.


It's gentle and fresh. And at the same time, makes you feel heavy… Tired…
Roll at -4.
"You ate my children."


"You're.. alive?"
"Hey, Lira! Move it out there!"

Roll #1 2 - 4 = -2


No willpower to leave the garden.
Not after that touching so many flowers!
"They all were. Before you came."


"Well why didn't you say something sooner?! I hate this place."


"I did. You could not hear me. I begged. You were deaf.
My children wept. You didn't care."
A gust of wind rushes through the garden, and as if animated by their own volition, the flowers seem to weep and dance around you, in a wailing cry.


Try to be not too tired to realize this place is dangerous.

Roll #1 6 = 6


You can stay awake. And the place is definitely dangerous, that you realize.


Shake my head.
"Who are you talking to?"


You can hear the flower speak as well.


"Well maybe you should invest in a sign or something."
"To the flowers. They are pissed off at us and aren't gonna let us leave."


"And you mock us so.
Your punishment will be one and one alone. Forever you shall be trapped here, to die with us."


"Oh… they won't let us leave? I don't think they want that…"
Look at one of my imps.
I doubt flowers like fire very much.


"You cannot eat us. Not anymore."
And suddenly, all the flowers morph into grotesque imitations of nature itself, staring back at you in disgust.

They do not notice the imps.


"Well shit." try to leave again. '1d10-4'

Roll #1 8 - 4 = 4


Cast Night.
"I'm not afraid of you, flowers, no matter how you look!"
Try to distract the flora so my imps can climb off unseen.

Roll #1 3 = 3


You slowly drag yourself to the edge of the garden, but as you do, the path becomes rotten, disgusting to thread, slippery under your body.
"One more flower, all it takes. One more of my children will sacrifice itself, for your eternal punishment."
The flowers dance and move towards you…
It's already so dark night has no effect.


'1d10+2' "But. I am a creature of fire. If you keep me here, you will all die."
terrify the flowers by pretending to summon flames

Roll #1 8 + 2 = 10


The flowers stop, not trying to hold you any longer…
But you still need to WANT to leave.


Well, don't fail me now, imps…
"Let me and my friend go, or face the consequences! I'm giving you one chance!"


They ignore you. If you have a plan in mind, better execute it.


'1d10-4' If I can just get out here, then I do something about this.

Roll #1 3 - 4 = -1


But alas, your will fails you. And you are just here, a step away…


Okay. I guess I'll just take a nap.
"It was a good lunch at least, Lira.. right?"


"Don't count yourself out just yet!"
Spread my wings, and try to drag her out!

At the same time…

Heat the place up.

Roll #1 9 = 9 / Roll #2 3, 1 = 4


"But the flowers are so soft.."


You try and push Mistsnap out of the circle… And find it as easy as lifting her, no resistance, no opposition meets your path!
At the same time, your imps go crazy with power and begin throwing fireballs everywhere, setting the groove on fire!
But now you are still inside…
Once pushed out, the mind altering effect of the flowers ceases its hold on you!


"Being alive is… uh, softer!"
No time for poetry!


Lower my front half.
"Imps! Imps! My boys! That's enough, c'mon, let's leave!"
Get them to hop on my back! C'mon!

Roll #1 3 = 3


"Whoa. I really did light it on fire.. Wait, Lira's still inside!"
'1d10' try to pull her out with TK

Roll #1 1 = 1


They don't stop! The whole garden is ablaze, screaming!
You still need to leave!
The fire distrupts your focus!


Fine, let them burn it down then!
Fly out!

Roll #1 4 = 4


Okay, how about, use the bowl to throw sand on the fire to help her escape '1d10'
"If you're close to the water, jump into it!"

Roll #1 9 = 9


You are still under the mind-affecting abilities of the flowers.
Leaving is still a -4 will check, even if the place is burning.
I'm sure that's gonna do lots of good!


I don't want to stay in a garden of fire…
That's why I left Tartarus in the first place!

Roll #1 4 - 4 = 0


'1d10' Well its not like I can just spam TK at her, it goes on cool down for a turn even if I fail

Roll #1 7 = 7


There are much easier ways than actually leaving on your own and you just took one earlier!
Cooldowns, right. How could I forget about that!
But you manage to drag her out, although her mane and coat are slightly burnt.

The garden burns to the ground, flowers to ashes as the imps keep up their work.
It's a painful shriek the one which fills the air as every flower dies. And even once the flames subdue, the golden mother of all flowers sits there, unsinged by the fire, weeping and crying for her children.


My mane and coat looked terrible anyways, not like this worsened the situation.
Look at the golden flower.
"Sorry… but you did try to kill me and my friend."
Snap with my wing. Call the imps back.


"Hey. I tried to warn you not to keep me in there. This is really your fault."
dust off Lira.


There is a warm light filling the night of this desert mystery, smoke raising to the stars as the lone cry of a soulless flower howls with the wind.
But at least, both of you are alive.



"I know, I know, I always mess things up…"

thanks for running


Shake my head.
"I'm the better mage, I should have known this place was special."


"Well, Miss better mage, what do we do next then?"


"Don't blindly eat things. That's basic."


"You ate as many as I did!"


"Well.. I may have made an error because I was hungry."
and then I'd say we are done

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