No.767981
>>767979Amy smiles. "I'll take that. We haven't really known each other for that long. I mean, we met kinda a while ago at this point. But, I didn't really get to know you much at first."
"Shortyhorns was my first real connection. Before that, I was just sorta floating around helping people. Before that, I was alone in the woods with my thoughts. And, before that I was… well, kinda a monster."
"And that's just my Amy parts. The demon side of me… well… I can't remember anything from before Tartarus. So… yeah not a lot of people to bond with then, either," she laughs a sort of tragic laugh.
"It's been so… amazing getting to connect with people. It's made me so much more happy than when I was a monster. So much more happy than I could have ever imagined. Even here in Tartarus, I have people I like and people who like me that make it not feel… like Tartarus."
No.767982
>>767980Shorthorns perks her ears up, looking at Vizsla with renewed interest. "Aim to what?" She asks simply, hoping she doesn't need to pry too hard to get her to answer
[1d10] Roll for ???
Roll #1 10 = 10 No.767983
>Amy
Mudi seems to eventually realize how strange her metaphor sounded, and the more you speak in such sincere ways, the more she cringes at her phrasing.
Eventually the agony of social faux pas passes, and Mudi gets back to thinking. "I could say a lot of the same about my own time on the surface," she says. "Always on the run from one place to another… only being able to steal, no matter what it was. Food, water, supplies… talents, lifespan, power, souls… it brought me all to the very limits of what a mortal could achieve. Now here I am… trying to escape mortality, as so many others have… only in a way that those others couldn't have… retaining my freedom as a mortal, yet bolstering my power beyond anyone's… whether mortal, demon, angel or god…"
She looks upward.
"I suppose, unlike you… I don't have a point where I could say, 'I was a monster."
>Shorthorned
As Vizsla responds, a sudden wave of weariness envelops you…
And, just as a swimmer may float, with one half above the surface of the water, and another half below, you perceive two scenes.
The first, wherein Vizsla tells you of such idle affairs as she has taken for hobbies. Studies into alpine plant life. Ice carvings for seasonal competitions. Snowboarding, and the craft of serving shaved ice in exotic flavors.
The second, wherein one of your students laments to you, Professor ###### of ##### Academy, how precious little time there is afforded to students, between studying for midterms, training body and soul for the semester's end battle royale, and for rescuing one's companions from the grasp of the #### of ####, whether he be in the labyrinth Backstage, or elsewhere…
The sensation fades. Gone is your tweed jacket, returned for your traditional tribal poncho. Vizsla's in the middle of telling you just how to get the syrup of shaved ice distributed perfectly for a consistent flavor.
No.767984
>>767983Amy pauses for a while, lingering on Mudi's final words. At first, Amy thought Mudi was saying that she was never a monster. Then, Amy realizes that Mudi was saying that she still IS a monster.
Amy sighs, she leaves that last part alone for now. "A lot of that is why I wanted to spend time with you and Vizzy and the other witches. Even with all the connections I've made, none of them are because of anything in common."
"I mean, that's special in its own way, of course. Having people who you connect with because of who you are - not WHAT you are - is really nice. But… I've never had a like… place I belong."
"It's so hard to put into words. Like a family, I guess. People who you have a connection to just because you were born from and with them. When I found out I'm a witch, I got so excited. It was like I finally had that kind of person! Someone I could just have that sort of bond with. We've been through similar things even though we weren't together. So, I was really hoping to get to spend some more time with you and get to be your friend."
No.767985
>Amy
Mudi stops dead in her tracks, face screwed up in frenzied pain, as you describe the Witch's curse as a form of connection. Her countenance falls, and shadows cover her face. She mouths words, and yet they are unintelligible, perhaps even to herself.
You recall what you learned of the Witches of Gehenna from Regina. Four orphan fillies, for the crime of being born as Witches, were driven from their homeland, the Country of Red Thunder… hounded and pursued across land and sea and air by witch-hunters… chased into the cold, cold arms of GEHENNA. Regina, made into the sacrifice for the other three, fuel for their banquet of power, wrought of treachery…
Yet, Mudi's grimace eventually loosens. "That's… one way to think of it."
She frowns at you. "I sensed… her… magical signature upon you, just before we entered Tartarus… Regina's magic…"
Her eyes fall back down. "I hope you know what happens to my 'friends.'"
No.767986
>>767985Amy frowns and furrows her brow in thought for a moment. She looks up at the empty void 'above' them. "I think that it's BECAUSE of those things that there's a connection. People look toward each other for help when times are sad. The world has every taught me that these past few years. Yeah, a lot of sucky stuff happened, but look at what's happening here. So many people we never thought could work together are here now BECAUSE so much bad has happened to them. I know, I know, they all have their own reasons. But, that's how all things like that start. People wouldn't do anything if they didn't have reasons for doing it."
"But, even though their time together was for their own reasons, eventually that time together makes them happy…"
Amy looks again at Mudi with a compassionate expression. "I want you to answer a question for me, Moody."
No.767987
>>767983Shorthorns winces as she suddenly feels herself falling out of space and time, her perception of reality suddenly in flux as she's stuck wondering what Vizsla just said about her winter past-times, and wondering if her team is ready for their upcoming chemistry finals… as if she even knew what 'chemistry' was!
She shakes her head clear of distraction, looking around and re-grasping the here and now just as Vizsla tells her of how to get shaved ice JUST right as she stammers, "D-did you feel that…?" She asks, wondering if she was the only one who just had such an odd experience. "Was I the only one…?"
No.767988
>>767986Mudi looks over the remnants of her faction, and the others, as you speak, silently considering your words. You can sense her gloomy objections just waiting beyond the dim surface of her eyes… yet they remain locked away there, kept silent as you offer another outlook.
Mudi thinks about your request for some time.
"I swear, if you say updog…"
>>767987Vizsla raises an eyebrow at you. "I didn't think my description was so vivid as to make you daydream for it. I don't do free samples, but… I suppose I can cut you a discount. Want one? Three Bits."
Vizsla's expression is unlike anything you have ever seen on her face– no hint of condescension or irony or contempt, just a hobbyist's pure interest.
No.767990
>>767988Shorthorns takes that answer as a clear 'no', that she indeed was the only one to experience that bizarre 'shift' in her perspective, to which she shakes her head trying to focus.
"Uh…Yeah, actually, that would be interesting. I don't think I've had what you're describing before, this 'shaved ice'. Is it like ice cream?"
No.767991
>Amyhttps://www.youtube.com/watch?v=l0p2k5eSJUUA million angry rebuttals crash against one another, storming just beyond the dim surface of her eyes. Yet… she stows them, with a practiced restraint… cultivated by centuries of taking Vizsla's provocations.
"No."
>Shorthorned"Not in the slightest!" Vizsla declares. "It's a completely different artistic medium, one for a subtler and more refined palate!"
Digging into her food supplies, Vizsla produces a matrix of exotic fruits preserved by magic, and floats out a number of chemical and alchemical implements… which, for now, feel quite familiar to you. Getting to work, she whips up a singular bowl of multicolored shaved ice, at the low price of three bits.
No.767992
>>767991Amy lets out a long sigh. She visibly shakes slightly. "I want to help you, Moody. I don't want you to feel that way."
"But, you're right. I know what happened to you. I'm not mad about it. I don't blame you. But, I know a lot about you. I can't talk about how to help you as you are now…"
Amy reaches into the hammerspace that is her unseen pockets and pulls out 4 attunement stones. The very exact amount she pulled out is clearly meant as a message. Amy looks Mudi in the face with a somber expression as she holds them out to her.
No.767993
>Amy
Mudi looks at the four attunement stones… she looks at them, and keeps looking at them, and for a time and time again, she looks at them, to the point that she, and you, and you, my dear reader, and I, even I, cannot help but lose track of how long she looks at them, in the depths of her longing.
"Amy…" Mudi says.
No.767994
>>767993"If you like me at all, you'll give me a chance to help you," Amy says in an almost pleading tone.
No.767995
>>767991Shorthorns watches with rapt attention, her mind suddenly abuzz with knowledge unfamiliar to her regarding chemical reactions and how the syrup is formed from a delicate balance of heat and sugar… and Shorthorns tries to ignore HOW she knows that as she delivers the three bits Vizsla asked of.
She looks over the shaved ice with the creamy, sugary syrup seeping between every crystalline flake of ice, and she licks her lips in anticipation as she takes a small bite out of it, savoring her first taste. Her eyes open wide as she lets the ice melt in her mouth, and with it the delicious, fruity flavors spread across her tongue. "Mmmmm!" She says in approval
No.767996
>Vizsla
"Ohoho," Vizsla says. "Save your applause for the end, my dear taster. Syrup distribution isn't just a matter of making every single bite a burst of flavor. There has to be a rhythm, a buildup, and a grand finale, for the shaved ice to have truly been a work of… art…"
Without warning, Vizsla trots ahead of you, her expression jolting and jumping between different extremes.
Frustration. Disgust. Contempt. Mockery in preparation for some cruel joke. Nausea. Regret. Pain.
You recall the especial curse of Betrayal, to which Vizsla bound herself at the behest of GEHENNA… the same as Mudi, and Azawakh.
Did Vizsla, a moment ago, perhaps consider you to be more than a mere asset… to be a friend?
No.767997
>>767996Shorthorns continues taking slow bites of her shaved ice, lapping up every drop of sweet, melty goodness (but moving at a steady pace lest it melt before she finishes), following behind Viszla and watching her twisting emotions as she skips ahead. She wishes she knew more to help Vizsla, knowing how complex the emotions she must be feeling right now, how much it must hurt to have something akin to a friend for one such as her… but Shorthorns finds often enough the simplest approach is best, and rather than overthink things, she moves up to keep pace with her, and simply smiles in gratitude.
"It's REALLY good Vizsla, thank you. I wish I knew how to make something this tasty, Climbing Fire Clan could make spicy food with the best of them but frozen treats are something I had no experience with before meeting you all."
No.767998
>Shorthorned"You…" Vizsla growls through gritted teeth. The hair on the back of your neck rises, for the hideous sound of Vizsla's hateful voice sounds to be a threat.
"…Like it?" Vizsla continues. The question is genuine, not merely as a confirmation of the taste, but as a question of reality from someone who finds reality to not be so reliable.
"Oh, um…" another voice says.
You see Busta, having sidled up near you. And, the cheeky bug-ger has produced a spoon to taste a little of the shaved ice!
"Yeah, it's good," Busta says. "It's really good."
"I'm–" Vizsla snaps… but she restrains her snarl. "…glad… you like it."
Busta opens his mouth to say more, but Vizsla then presses on ahead, picking up the pace to get away from you and him. Busta's face sinks into immediate regret as he watches her go. "Urgh…" he sighs. "Sorry, Shorthorned…"
>Both"You know… Amy…" Mudi says, looking ahead of you.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JZEiCvTK_fYBeyond you, upon the horizon, you see the great helios of a most peculiar Anchor. Where most Anchors you have passed so far have been crushed, blasted, ruined, annihilated by the War of LIMBO, this one hangs in the air, a twilight coin, a warm and rounded spark of fading evening sunlight. A glimpse of the surface you left behind… held here now by a singular wish from the ancient days–
Say to the moment, Stay, thou art so beautiful… and then…Within the great halo of autumnal sunset light, you see a worn path, flanked on either side by lavendar and sage brush, by basalt and granite, by pine and cedar and juniper and aspen and spruce. The path winds up through the rocks and the plants, beneath the echoes of wild birds, eternally casting their shade upon the tiny cosmos frozen in time. The path moseys up across switchbacks, comprised of dirt and stone, a cairn or two to mark where the path has faded, a token of goodwill from those who have beheld it before. The path carves its way up from the base of a hill, up toward a saddle between two great ridges of a mountain range. You see auburn clouds, and the white-capped peaks of far-off violet arches, just a bit beyond where the path curves beyond your sight…
This, then… to be the Soterio Field; and the Momentary Lake, hidden just beyond the impenetrable defenses of the Field.
"…I'm starting to think it's too late," Mudi says.
No.767999
>>767998Amy sees the anchor fade into existence and feels the urgency.
"I WILL help you, Mudi," she says it like a threat. "I won't let you spend all of eternity miserable. You can either listen to me now or not, but either way I'm saving you from this."
Amy thrusts her hoof-paw holding out the attunement stones one last time.
>[1d10] DC-4 persuasionRoll #1 2 = 2 No.768000
>>767998Shorthorns looks at Vizsla as she moves on ahead, nodding her head in confirmation that she does indeed truly like her shaved ice as Busta comes up besides her. Shorthorns shakes her head, "You didn't do anything wrong, Busta. I can only imagine how hard it is for her, learning how to deal with her emotions. We can just try our best to be honest and let her sort through them on her own."
>Though, she watches Vizsla to make sure she doesn't go to Mudi, assuming Amy still needs time to talk to the other WitchAs they arrive upon the great plains of the Soterio Field, Shorthorns takes a moment to breathe in the un-naturally earthy beauty of this slice of Tartarus, the plants and stone beneath her hooves making her feel more at home than she has been since she first entered this realm.
"It's beautiful, huh?" She asks Busta, marveling at the sights around her. "Hard to believe something so calming could precede something so tumultuous."
No.768001
>Shorthorned
Busta hangs his head as Vizsla goes on.
"Didn't I…?" Busta mumbles. "…I've spent quite some time with the two of them… actually, even with the three of them, when Azawakh was still around. I got into the habit of sticking up for the other two whenever Vizsla got into her moods… yelling at her when she yelled at them… fighting her when she fought them…. but… was that the right choice?"
>Amy
Mudi casts one last look over the attunement stones.
"…hang onto those. They're useful. Don't waste them before the moment is right."
>Both
The Saviors, the Light Brigade, the Spiders, the Ecclesians, and the Witches of Gehenna… what remains of these travelers stop at the boundary of the Soterio Field, pausing there.
"A mere impenetrable boundary is all that stands between us and world peace," Gegenschein declares. "Well, local regional peace, anyway. Hoohoohoo. Quite a small matter considering what we've just survived."
Hope grunts. "As for how we cross it…"
Buiwong produces the Anathema Scripture. "Luckily for us, I remembered to bring the ol' blueprints."
"We should run some tests," Chorazin says. "Before we attempt to pass it ourselves."
"Right," Mudi says. "I suppose it'll be us, then… Everyone else, stand back. Wouldn't want to put anyone at unnecessary risk here."
The others hold their silence in dread and anticipation.
No.768003
>>768001"Is the effect supposed to be permanent?" Amy asks as she contemplates just taking a little dip in the flowers to see what it feels like.
No.768004
>>768001Shorthorns nods her head to Busta. "It was. Sometimes friends need you to stand up to them, to keep them from going down the wrong path. You did right by her for calling her out when she got too mean, and deep down I'm sure she appreciates you more for it than if you just stood by and did nothing."
Shorthorns looks around the great fields, before looking to the others, "I need a reminder, what makes this place so impenetrable? It just looks like a big open field, what's the trick?"
No.768005
>Shorthorned
"Right…" Busta says. "But, I'm starting to wonder… if I was there as much for Vizsla, as I tried to be for Mudi and Azawakh. Friends might need someone to stand up to them… but they also need someone to stand up for them, too."
>Both
As the leaders of the factions approach the boundary of the Soterio Field, they begin to conduct a number of tests upon the barest edge of the Field's energy, cross-referencing their results with the esoteric text of the Anathema Scripture. Their nervous caution in their experiments suggests you still have a little time here…
Desert lamp looks your way. "Apparently, the Field obliterates the will of those who enter it. And anyone who succumbs to the influence of the Field… well, just look."
She gestures to a spot up in the mountains governed by the Soterio Field. You see many mighty Umbrals there, laying this way or that, as if they'd suddenly dropped to an impromptu nap in the middle of whatever they had been doing. The color of their bodies and clothes is gone, replaced by the honeyed aura of the Field– conveying their eternal embrasure by the Field. Some appear to be recent additions – runaway scraps from whatever was left of each Layer's army. Others appear to be from distant times and places, judging by their foreign garb and weaponry. Some even appear to be mortal… victims from the time when the Momentary Lake was still upon the surface of your world, some thousands and thousands of years ago.
No.768006
>>768005"I'm sure you tried to be there for all of them as they needed it. Vizsla isn't the most outwardly friendly witch I've ever met, if you tried TOO hard you might have just pushed her away even further. I think you did the best you could have."
As the others point out the true danger of the Soterio Field, pointing out to the sleeping, lumbering Umbras who attempted to walk through and had all their vigor and drive sapped from them as they're doomed to an eternal rest, Shorthorns winces and tries to consider a way to avoid meeting a similar fate. "Hmmm… does it suck the will of inanimate objects? Things that had no will to begin with?"
She attempts to construct a buffalo golem, a statue to wander into the Field and see what happens.
[1d10]
Roll #1 3 = 3 No.768007
>>768005"But, is it permanent?" Amy asks again.
No.768008
>Shorthorned
You construct a very small buffalo golem and send it forth toward the Field. Unfortunately, the buffalo is just a little bit too small. Mudi walks to and fro during the experiments, and fails to notice the golem walking nearby. She accidentally kicks it beyond the edge of the Field, and as it falls over, it wiggles its legs desperately, but just can't get itself upright. Mudi gasps and reflexively reaches out to the golem to help it, but Hope catches her by the shoulder, pulling her back before she herself can cross the boundary and fall into an eternal slumber.
The buffalo golem stops moving, despite its lack of consciousness. The power of the Field does not seem to be psychological in nature.
>Amy
"You're asking the wrong gal," Desert Lamp shrugs. "I design fashion. Impermanence is the name of my game."
Supper of Crows shakes her head. "I don't think anybody knows. You'd have to rescue someone trapped in the Field to find out, but that's too risky to attempt."
>Both
Eventually, the faction leaders come back, having concluded their tests.
"Looks like we have a way through," Hope says.
"Indeed," Gegenschein concurs. "The Field does NOT wash over the will through a direct attack upon the mind… but rather, through the unstoppable attrition… of Time."
Buiwong flips his mane. "Lucky for us, we've got quite a few who have the power to command Time, don't we?"
Mudi sighs. "Hurricanrana did…"
"So did Hafaza," Blessings adds. "…And Box."
Holy Hours looks a little miffed that nobody calls on him.
No.768009
>>768008Shorthorns winces as she sees her poor little buffalo kicks (inadvertently) by Mudi, wandering almost too closely to the edge of the field as well as she witnesses the small, wiggling golem take its ultimate rest.
"Not even stone and earth is immune to its effects… incredible."
As the others point out the weakness of the fields being the flow of time itself, she turns and looks to the others, mourning internally for the loss of those names just listed. "What sort of abilities do we speak of? Stopping time, slowing time?"
No.768010
>>768008Amy looks out at the field to see where the closest person is to the edge of the field. She starts walking along the perimeter to see if she can spot anyone closer.
>[1d10] to find a fallen individual close to the edgeRoll #1 5 = 5 No.768011
>Amy
Some distance "east" along the slope of the hill, you see an Umbral slumped back against a smooth plate of slickrock, asleep. They're about 20 feet or so from the edge of the boundary. A fair distance…
>Both
Holy Hours clears his throat to speak up–
"The ability to stop time is the most effective," Gegenschein says. "Although we couldn't construct a definitive hierarchy of which ability is the most effective, the general rule seems to be that, the more dramatic the effect you can inflict on Time, the more useful it will be in piercing the boundary of the Soterio Field. For example…"
Holy Hours grumbles.
Desert Lamp flicks her head in his direction. "Question in the back."
"Well, go on," Gegenschein hoots, clearly having enjoyed tormenting his introverted colleague. "Let's keep track of time here."
Stowing his annoyance, Holy Hours holds up a deep purple cord, the same shade as his hair. "These charms of mine will share the benefits of all temporal manipulation between everyone who touches them. Myself, Leather Cloak, and Sir Gegenschein possess the ability to stop time, among other powers."
"As do I," Volkama says.
"I can't stop time," Blessings says. "But I can slow it or speed it up."
"Very well," Holy Hours says. "Gentlecolts, I propose that each of us stagger our time stopping abilities in sequence, as we move in a close group to the Momentary Lake. Lady Blessings, use your abilities after each of us stops time so we can get the most out of each temporal pause."
"Understood," Blessings affirms.
No.768012
>>768011Amy points out the umbral slumped against the rock. "Surely someone knows how to lasso, right?" she asks everyone around.
No.768013
>Amy
Anzu sighs. "Lion and Fox did…"
Evil's Judgment steps over to you, brings out a coil of rope, and untangles it a little into a lasso. "I always liked being able to capture bounties like this."
She spins the rope about to warm up a bit, then flings it at the Umbral.
[1d10+6]
Roll #1 10 + 6 = 16
No.768014
>>768011"That seems like a good idea - everyone take turns casting their spells to slow down time so we can make sure there is never a window where it's NOT stopped, even for a moment."
>>768012>>768011As Amy suggests using a lasso, Shorthorns nods her head. "That's a good idea too… just in case something goes wrong, someone back here with a rope could pull us back in case we fell asleep, as a precaution."
No.768015
>>768013"Hey! Good job!" Amy says as she raises her hoof-paw for a congratulatory high… five?
No.768016
>Amy
EJ lassos the fella in one toss, pulling the lasso tight with a tug. After returning your gesture, she and Anzu drag the Umbral out of the Field. Once he's beyond the barrier, they step back, and keep their eye on him. The Umbral remains asleep upon the cold stone, not moving, not even breathing, seemingly still held by the eternity of the Field. The portion of the lasso which entered the field also remains honey-colored, despite how briefly it was inside the Field.
Evil's Judgment gulps. "…Well, permanent or not, it definitely doesn't wear off quickly."
>Both
"Yeah…" says the Dragon. "Hey, that's an idea! Maybe not a lasso, but– a lot of us can control Space. Would that help?"
"Yes, in the event of an emergency," Holy Hours says. "It would be too risky to rend shortcuts through space on our entry through the Field. But, should any of us fail to manipulate Time, those of you capable of commanding Space must remain on standby to retrieve us all from the Field."
Those in your party who boast great command over Space nod solemnly.
"With all of that said," Mudi continues. "…I think it should be as simple as that. Once we're all ready… the trailhead's right there."
No.768017
>>768016Shorthorns nods her head in affirmation of the plan. "Alright. I volunteer to take the lead," She says, moving her way up to the front of the group. "Casters will stay at staggered points, casting their spells in a way that the next one starts ALWAYS before the previous one ends. No openings what so ever."
No.768018
>>768016"Hmm…" Amy contemplates. "What happens if I…?"
>Jhana of Uprooting Poison on the 'sleeping' umbral No.768019
>Amy
It requires an immense portion of your strength, and leaves you not a little dizzy after the fact, but you manage… well, not to 'cure' the effect. Instead, you manage to 'push' the influence of the Field a short distance back, until it leaves the body of the Umbral. The Umbral stretches and yawns, and while he's still half-asleep, EJ slips the lasso off of him.
The Umbral rolls over and grunts, clearly intent on continuing his nap… but through his own volition, not the influence of the Field. Its remnant energy lingers just behind him, where you pushed it. Eternity is not so easily escaped, it seems.
Supper of Crows comes over and gives you a little pat on the head, which abates the exhaustion of your effort.
>Both
Holy Hours starts passing out more cords of his hair, which your allies use to bond themselves to one another in a way that won't impede movement overmuch. Perhaps feeling a little self-conscious, Hours assures everyone of his regular shampoo use and the skill by which his wife made these hair-charms. But, the mood is too nervous among your allies to banter much with him.
No.768020
>>768019Once everyone is connected via Holy Hours' hair, Shorthorns also gets the idea to bring out Shei's chains - perhaps a double-edged sword, as if one person falls asleep it might spread to everyone else connected by it, but on the other, it might also serve to keep those who unintentionally pass OUT of their time-dilation field to keep the effects of the time-dilation and protect them from the fields' effect.
[1d10] To expand out Shei's chain and pass it along to others to hold on to
Roll #1 6 = 6 No.768021
>>768019"Thank you," Amy says to Supper with a wag of her tail at the head pat.
"So, that kinda hurts my plan. I was thinking like… what if we just threw someone over to the lake…?"
No.768022
>Both
Your allies wordlessly accept the black chain, the remnant of Shei's power, despite the risks. Perhaps they feel now a little nostalgia for the presence of Shei.
As Amy suggests launching someone toward the Lake, the notion goes over like a lead balloon with your allies.
"Yes, regrettably," Galton says. "The Soterio Field is a dome. You'd not be able to send someone over and restore them from afar, I'm afraid."
"Bit like the Firmament, eh?" Buiwong jokes.
Some of the Ecclesians glower at his flippancy… but at the very least, it broke the nervous atmosphere.
"Pending any other suggestions for alternatives… are we all ready?" Holy Hours asks.
No.768023
>>768022As the others take hold of Shei's links, Shorthorns gripping on to hers tightly in her cloven hoof, she looks to Holy Hours and nods.
"No time like the present. Let's move on."
No.768024
>>768022"Look at us, all working together," Amy says with a wag of her tail as she takes a chain.
>[1d10] for a little encouragementRoll #1 4 = 4 No.768026
>BothAmy's remark gives everyone some pause. Indeed, not so very long ago, each of the four factions surrounding you could never have dreamed of receiving one another's aid… nor of giving it to the others. Even though Mudi had been the one to propose this alliance to enter Tartarus together, there is little doubt that the Mudi of yesteryear could not have unified these factions… not the way she was back then. It was through the work of the Saviors that this alliance, however tenuous, came together, and holds together even now…
After one last moment, Shorthorned rallies the troops to face onward.
"Indeed," Holy Hours says. "The present is all we have– for time has stopped!"
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TTQZlijIVo8The Shorthorned Dragon leads a great stampede, matching her determination and vigor with the pace of all the others. A deep dread falls upon your allies as they hustle, with the weight of the Soterio Field looming all about them. Not a word is spoken, not even a grunt or a gasp when someone's hoof catches on a rock, or when one person bumps into another. The only voices are those of Holy Hours, Blessings, Volkama, Leather Cloak and Gegenschein. Each calls out when they're manipulating time, and when their power is near to running out. It's all anybody can concentrate on, lest fear overwhelm their overworked bravery.
Still…
As this march goes on, the overwhelming horror of the Soterio Field cannot help but be lessened as its novelty wears off. The five time-manipulators settle into a smooth rhythm, as each calls out a bit of time-centric wordplay with each of their powers. Your allies quickly learn the pace of those ahead and those behind them. It's not long before they stop bumping into one another or giving each other flat tires with a misstep after a tricky section of trail.
No.768027
>>768026Amy contemplates how many have made it this far. She looks around to see how many unconscious demons still surround them.
>[1d10] to look around>[1d10] to keep in rhythm with the others if necessaryRoll #1 2 = 2 /
Roll #2 5 = 5 No.768028
>>768026Shorthorns looks behind her as she leads the charge, finding herself at the head of her very own stampede. As a child… as a younger child, at any rate… she would often dream of fulfilling this role one day. Becoming the head of a great stampede as her forebears had before her, being the first buffalo at the front of a mighty collective of stomping hooves bounding across the plains. As she looks back and sees all those with her, from every organization, she can't help but imagine this is the single WEIRDEST herd any buffalo has ever lead, a veritable random assortment of creatures from every corner of the globe all racing together.
And she couldn't be more proud. She lets out a triumphant MOOOOOO to keep spirits up, not so loud as to overtake the voices of the critical time-manipulators, but enough to share her pride with her clansmates.
No.768029
>AmyIndeed, there are many– it's too tough to keep track of them all. Not merely for their number, or for the density of the forest all about you, where they lay forever caught… it's for the glimpses *between*.
>Bothhttps://www.youtube.com/watch?v=69DQZFobMNUAmid the rocks and the trees, the brush and the grasses, rays of glimmering evening sunlight flit, held fast where they shine. In each ray of frozen light, like a stained glass mural, you see– yourself. Your allies. Snippets of these lives, from all across time. Quests undertaken long ago; past explorations; dinners eaten with families; vistas of homelands, now long abandoned…
A stir passes through some of your allies as they no doubt behold these glimmering fragments of the past. But then, Shorthorned bellows, and the deep rumble of her ancestral call brings them back to the present, and they press on with one mind, one body…
As the march continues, Cloak, Hours, Blessings, Volkama, and Gegenschein check in with one another, and each one rotates in to help Blessings, lest she be brought to early exhaustion. Those surrounding them cast quick powers of restoration, easing their fatigue. And, with Shei's chain connecting everyone, those healing powers come to you as well, keeping your legs and hooves from pain as you hike onward and onward…
No.768030
>>768029Shorthorns keeps a straight eye ahead, her only goal being leading her herd to their destination, the Momentary Lake and her great stampede arriving at it being her only thought. She does not ignore the serene, eerie beauty of her surroundings, nor the echoes of the past emanating from both within her herd and from those who've fallen to the Fields' slumber. But she keeps herself focused, intent on being the one to keep everyone else in line and striding in one direction: forwards.
No.768031
>Bothhttps://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BmOR6DmmlAYThe trail continues, ascending and descending, curving and straightening, rocky and worn here, smooth and level there, further and further into the hidden depths of the mountains which enshrine the Lake. It's all anyone among your allies can do to keep their eyes as straight as Shorthorned's. Yet on all sides, above and below, the frozen light remains a window to the past. Good memories… as well as bad ones. Poor choices of words, misunderstandings becoming mistakes, accidents becoming disasters… and yet also, the victories large and small, the successful rescues, the hard-won battles… and the rumors of war yet to come. Regret and triumph. Many memories which the bearers long wished that nobody else would find out… All they have witnessed, all they have suffered, all they have done, all they have failed to do… whether for evil, or for good…
But, what else is there to do? Whatever your allies come to think of those ahead of them, and those behind them, there is nothing they can do more now but follow the trail unto their destination, and aid one another in doing so. The time manipulators keep up their rotation, sneaking what little sips of water they can take between their call-outs and their labored breathing. The powers of healing continue just the same, as does the interminable road…
