[center] [h1][color=yellow][b][u]Karamir[/u][/b][/color][/h1] [/center] [hr] [i]Kalmar, Arae, Roog, and Li’Kalla created you. You are the Vallamir.[/i] Karamir jolted awake. Within a second, he was on his feet, and within another second, the Weapon was out and had taken the form of a sword. He swivelled in place, scanning his surroundings, yet there were no threats to be seen. Strange. He could have sworn someone had just spoken, and he wasn’t quite sure what it was supposed to mean. Kalmar was the only name Karamir recognized - as far as he knew, ‘Arae’, ‘Roog’, and ‘Li’Kalla’ had nothing to do with him. And the name Vallamir… he had never heard that before in his life. He glanced up at the Lustrous Garden. It was well into the night; day would soon follow. Yawning, he took the time to wipe his eyes… and then paused as a strand of hair appeared at the top of his vision. It was white. Something had happened, after all. But what? Another glance around. No sign of anything, or anyone. He took flight, and circled the area surrounding the Stone Book. Again, he found nothing. [color=yellow]”How strange…”[/color] he muttered to himself. Talking to himself had become something of a habit, now. Not since his time on Kalgrun had he gone this long without somebody to converse with. He did not go back to sleep. With weapon in hand he awaited the morning, continuing to practice his magic in the meantime. When the sun finally rose, he took flight and found the nearest clear body of water. A quick glance of his reflection revealed that his hair had in fact changed colour… but only a small portion. The front was now white, but the rest remained the same light brown. [color=yellow]”What happened?”[/color] he wondered aloud. Could it have been an effect of what Abanoc did to him? Doubtful. The encounter had been over a year ago, so why would such a change only come about now? Was it a result of his proximity to the Stone Book, or some belated side-effect of one of the many things that had been done to him in the past? It was impossible to be sure. The most likely possibility was that Kalmar had finally gotten around to creating a species modelled after him: Vallamir was the name of the species, while the gods Li’Kalla, Roog, and Arae all helped create it. [color=yellow]”Karamir… first of the Vallamir…”[/color] he spoke aloud, testing it out. He rose to his feet. If there truly were others like him, then it was time to get moving. He still needed to seek out the other mortal species, and the other gods. And once he had learned from them, he could share that knowledge with other people - including his own. He had remained near the Stone Book to continue practicing mana, but there was no real reason he couldn’t practice as he travelled. Being able to use mana while flying would be a useful skill anyway. And so, on that note, he took flight and began a journey west, practicing his manipulation of the winds as he flew. [hr] Eventually he reached the coast, of course, and he did not fancy another journey over the open ocean just yet. So instead he turned southwest. In the meantime, while he wasn’t attempting to summon gusts of wind mid-flight, he had contacted Kalmar, who confirmed much of what he had theorized. Though apparently a few changes had been made to the species, one of which led to the partially white hair that Karamir now had. At some point he flew over a rather eerie looking forest, and a dense fog gradually enveloped him. He was no stranger to fog, but this felt rather sudden. Still, he couldn’t rightly call it unnatural, since he had never been to this area before. And after what he had seen in the Palace, Tendlepog, the Infinite Maze, and the Observatory, a bit of fog was hardly the strangest thing he could encounter. He lowered himself to the ground, passing through the forest canopy until he landed on the ground before. It was rather eerie; like something out of one of Diana’s nightmares. He drew his dagger, and willed it to become a staff. It wasn’t the most deadly weapon, but it felt comfortable to carry. He began to walk through the forest on foot, stopping occasionally to inspect plants or insects, every now and then glancing up at the forest canopy. Unable to see the sun, he once again found himself in the concerning position of not knowing the passage of time. He wasn’t sure how much had passed, but after quite a bit of wandering and inspecting, he eventually came across a rough trail. No animal could have made this - or at least, no animal he had seen before. [color=yellow]”Are there mortals nearby?”[/color] he wondered. No, Abanoc’s book had not informed him of any within this region. [color=yellow]”The work of a god?”[/color] Or was it yet another oddity that had no clear explanation. Anyway, he decided to follow the trail. [color=yellow]”Surely it leads [i]somewhere[/i]...”[/color] Time continued to pass, but it was not long before he came across another oddity - this one much larger than the insects he had grown accustomed to. A large tentacled slug, almost the size of a direwolf. It did not seem to possess any eyes; could it see him? Karamir circled around it, yet it did not react. He prodded it with the butt of his staff, and it lazily flicked a tentacle to ward off his pestering. It didn’t seem to be hostile, and he didn’t even know if it was edible, so there was little point in disturbing it. He briefly wondered what its purpose was, but it wasn’t like he could ask. Instead he carried on, leaving the beast to drag itself along the trail. On and on he walked. His cloak was spoiling him, he realized; he had almost grown unused to trekking vast distances on foot. He would have to take walks more frequently, instead of simply relying on the cloak to get anywhere. There may be come a time when he might find himself without it. [color=yellow]”Seems like the perfect place to get used to long walks…”[/color] he muttered to himself. Eventually, the trail lead him to a clearing, and while that would not have been unusual, what was inside it [i]was[/i]. A table, mostly stocked with plates of food, and one of the slug beasts from before was there, hungrily shoving food into its mouth with its tentacles. Karamir was quite hungry himself, come to think of it. He walked around the side of the table opposite the creature, and noted that the foods the creature was eating included meat. It didn’t seem to notice him, but it could see the food in front of well enough. How did it perceive the world, he wondered? Karamir closed his eyes and focused. It had been a long time since he had needed to call upon the Hunter’s Sight granted to him by Kalmar, but the power had not left him. He slipped into the creature’s perspective, and found that it [i]could[/i] in fact see… everything except for him. Because as Karamir gazed through the creature’s eyes, he was looking at the very spot where his actual body should be standing… and there was nothing there. He slipped back into his own perspective to confirm that he had not moved or been transported in any way. If the creatures could not see him… that was a remarkably easy weakness to exploit. He glanced back down at the table. His better judgement told him not to touch it, that this food had been left out here for a reason… and then his stomach growled. It had been too long since his last meal. So, he grabbed a rather large loaf of bread from one of the plates, turned, and continued onward. The oversized slug didn’t even notice. He took bites as he walked, until eventually he had eaten it all. At some point he decided it was time to take a break. He fell back into practicing his mana; using the loose yet controlled movements required to manipulate the air around him. He then looked down at his robe, which had grown increasingly worn and frayed. Thankfully he had taught himself another spell for this. Concentrating deeply, he drew upon the raw mana in the air around him. Raw mana was dangerous, and volatile, yet the result of this particular spell would hardly be catastrophic if it somehow went out of control. Slowly, the small tears, holes, and loose strands in his robe began to repair themselves, threads reattaching back together. He was sweating by the time he was done, but the clothes had been repaired in the end. [color=yellow]”Still dirty, though…”[/color] but there was little he could do about that until he found water. He sat against a nearby tree, and breathed in the foggy air. He was not concerned; he could leave at any time he wanted. All he had to do was fly above the forest canopy, pick a random direction, and commit to it until he made it out. As far as he knew, he was still on Galbar, and so this forest must have an end. Even if he had somehow ended up in another sphere… even the Infinite Maze came to an end at some point, despite its name. As far as he could tell, he was in no danger. He was here by his own choice and his own curiosity. He rested there for some time, until he saw an odd light in the corner of his eye, steadily coming closer. Warily, he rose to his feet and readied his weapon, only to see a rather strange sight emerge from the smoke: A lantern walking on a four-legged pedestal. It came near to him, close enough that he could feel its warmth, and then suddenly it retreated, only to stop and then inch closer. Karamir took a step forward, and again the lantern began to fall back… only to start shaking itself in what appeared to be frustration, as Karamir had not moved beyond that single step. [color=yellow]”You want me to follow?”[/color] Karamir questioned with a raised eyebrow. The lantern tilted itself slightly, in what Karamir assumed was meant to be a nod. [color=yellow]”Why not…”[/color] Karamir shrugged. If this was some sort of trap, he could easily get away. If it wasn’t, then it likely led to something interesting. So, he followed it. Time continued to pass, and Karamir continued to walk. Eventually, however, his eyes began to droop, and it was getting darker. He needed to sleep. So, he stepped off the path, laid down near a tree, and allowed himself to drift off to sleep. [hr] Karamir awoke to something wrapping around his leg. Just as it began to drag him, however, his cloak slipped out from underneath him and suddenly began to drag him in the opposite direction, as he floated an inch off the ground. He craned his head to look at his mysterious attacker, but saw nothing save a faint, blurry outline. He kicked at it, but it did not relent. All the while, the unknown assailant and his cloak continued to play a tug-of-war over his body. His hand closed around the Multi-Weapon which lay next to him, and it morphed into a glaive. He swung wildly, severing an unseen appendage, and then he was free. His cloak dragged him over the dirt for several feet until he willed it to stop, and rose to his feet. He could see the blurry outline of the creature, but it was practically invisible, and it was heading toward him. Despite its obscurity, he realized its size and shape was comparable to the beasts he had seen earlier. Quickly, he used his hunter’s sight to slip into the creature’s perspective, and realized that this time, they could see him. It wasn’t particularly fast, however, so it was a simple enough matter to hold out his staff. A nearly-invisible tentacle wrapped around it, and then suddenly the glaive became a sword, and Karamir pulled it back, cutting through the creature’s flesh with ease. It recoiled in pain, and then the sword was a spear, and Karamir plunged it through where he assumed the monster’s brain would be. It collapsed. He prodded the transparent corpse with the butt of his spear (transforming it back into a staff as he did so) and drew in a deep breath. Did these things become transparent at night? Or had eating the food affected him in some way? Either way, it seemed unwise to stay here. A quick look around, and he saw a light in the distance. The lantern from before. Or at least, he assumed it was. It began to rapidly shake, as if urging him to follow, and so he did. [hr] For three days Karamir followed the lantern. It led him off the trail, onto new trails, and even to food shrines. He realized that the creatures remained invisible even during the day, so therefore it had to have been the food that resulted in this change… somehow. Or maybe it was simply the result of being in this forest for a certain amount of time. [color=yellow]”If only I had some way to record all these thoughts…”[/color] he wondered aloud. A quick experiment revealed that the food was indeed the cause. He ate some of the food in front of the creatures, and soon enough it went blurry and transparent to almost completely invisible. It might have been a good idea to stop, but… he needed to eat [i]something[/i]. The creatures were already invisible, the food was available, and it wasn’t like they were completely undetectable anyway - he could see faint imprints in the dirt and grass, marking where they stood, and he had his Hunter’s Sight ability anyway. In the night he flew up into the trees, used his cloak to tie himself to a branch, and allowed himself to drift off. He marked trees to ensure that the lantern was not leading him in circles, but that didn’t address the concern that it might not be leading him anywhere at all. [color=yellow]”One more day of this,”[/color] he decided as he went to sleep that night. One more day with no results, and he would simply leave this place. But around noon of the fourth day, he finally reached the pagoda. It was five storeys tall, now, and disappeared far into the foggy sky. The giant wooden treadmill-crane standing on scorched ground beside it was the only sign that, somewhere far above, construction was ongoing. What was finished was already painted, plastered, and paved, and dozens of huge circular kites flew from its windows on long strings. They turned to look at him as he emerged from the jungle, displaying vivid irises. At the edge of the forest, a curious being with a heavy green parrot on his shoulder turned to him. It had a peaked copper lantern for a head, and wore a heavy robe, a slender cane emerging from its sleeve to tap at the moist earth between them. Saith the parrot, [colour=olivedrab][i]“By the feathers of my beard: A stranger? A danger? A deep-forest ranger, seeking for yon places weird.”[/i][/colour] [color=yellow]”I am Karamir, of Kalgrun,”[/color] Karamir declared to the stranger. [color=yellow]”Who are you?”[/color] A delicate pair of pliers emerged from the creature’s other sleeve, and tapped its chest, where a simple glyph was woven into the fabric, gold on black. It made a harsh whirring noise, the light in its lantern flashing unevenly as it did so, as if a shower of metal sparks had burst inside it. Then it bowed. [colour=olivedrab][i]“Better luck, o traveller, Cannot be found speaking with her. The lantern heads don’t speak, or blink. This one’s X4B, I think.”[/i][/colour] Lanternhead X4B shook gently, tapping the earth with its cane. She was laughing. After a moment she raised her head and motioned towards Karamir with the plier-hand. A look of befuddlement briefly flashed across his face. [color=yellow]”What is this place?”[/color] he asked, taking a step forward. Lanternhead X4B paused momentarily, then walked- or maybe glided- back to the edge of the forest, where she had left a small basket filled with leaves. This she retrieved, hanging it on a wrist hidden under her sleeve, and with the plier-hand cracked off two slender twigs of even length. These she handed to Karamir before turning and ambulating back towards the great temple. The parrot looked back at him from her shoulder. [colour=olivedrab][i]“Hmm, well, err, um. It’s called the ABACADARIUM. And while we’re out for names to give, For the record, mine is Liv.[/i][/colour] [color=yellow]”I see,”[/color] Karamir said, studying the twigs in his hand and having absolutely no clue what to do with them. [color=yellow]”Is there anyone else here?”[/color] [colour=olivedrab][i]“You’ll just have to come and see,”[/i][/colour] said Liv, her voice barely audible as X4B crossed a bridge over a tile-bound stream running through the foundations of the temple. [colour=olivedrab][i]“For certain, not just you and me.”[/i][/colour] Someone high up on Abacadarium’s youngest floors split the air with a yell, blasting apart the sound-eating fog to reveal a swarm of bright lights spiralling around the worksite. The greyness soon crept back in. Karamir glanced up at the sudden yell, and grasped his weapon, but with no sign of immediate danger he let go. He did a quick scan of his foggy surroundings, and then followed X4B in silence. The pagoda was about as big on the inside as it was on the outside, which, while not a supernatural feat by any means, was still a feat. Part of the stream had been channeled into shallow grooves around the edges of the enormous ground floor, and the rest was all pillars and mats and stairways and vast open space, floor after floor after floor. Lanternheads stood here and there, often in circles or rows, flying kites from the windows, tallying things in bundles or under lenses or trickling through hourglasses. Some of them seemed to be fighting, in a slow, turn-taking kind of way. They lit up the floor of each successive storey, and chirruping clusters of flying paper-lanterns lit up its ceiling, twirling their streamers and fluttering around Karamir, who resisted the urge to swat them away. They emerged onto the ceiling of the fifth storey, the floor of the unfinished sixth. There a goddess sat crosslegged with her back to the newcomers amidst a pile of scorched butterfly nets of enormous size, sulking. She seemed important. He needed to think of something to say. Something that wasn’t too vague, but also wasn’t too bloated with explanation. But where to begin? So instead, all he offered was a rather lame [color=yellow]”Hello?”[/color] [colour=wheat]“Ah fuck what now,”[/colour] said Chopstick Eyes, waving her hand in the air without looking back. His eyebrows raised. That was not the response he expected. Certainly different from the parrot’s rhymes, or X4B who didn’t speak at all. [color=yellow]”I am Karamir, from Kalgrun,”[/color] he answered. [color=yellow]”I was exploring this forest, when one of the walking lights led me to this place.”[/color] Chopstick turned her stitched-up head and focused her sticks on Karamir for the first time, and her eyebrows untangled. [colour=wheat]“Oh, hey, dude, that’s a [i]dope[/i] cloak,”[/colour] she said. [colour=wheat]“Hold up, hold it right there.”[/colour] She scrabbled to her feet and closed the gap between them in two fast steps, pressing her body into the Cloak of Red Feathers and smelling it deeply, then sniffing her way up to his face. He winced slightly as the chopsticks jabbed him through the cloak. [colour=wheat]“Damn, you smell like… Ten gods.”[/colour] Karamir allowed this only because he knew who she was. The eyes gave it away. [color=yellow]”I have met a lot of gods,”[/color] he confirmed. [color=yellow]”The first was Kalmar, my creator. Then Phystene. Then K’nell’s Avatar. Then K’nell himself. Then Kalmar’s Avatar. Then Abanoc. And now you. I think your name is… Chopstick Eyes?”[/color] [colour=wheat]“Well, I do have them,”[/colour] said the god who had chopstick eyes. She looked up. [colour=wheat]“K’nell. The dreamboat. Is he an asshole?”[/colour] Karamir frowned. [color=yellow]”He was friendly enough, at first, when I visited his sphere. But it seemed like I didn’t fit there, so I left, and then he decided to send me out of his lands as well. His avatar, on the other hand, is a living nightmare who takes fun in tormenting people - myself included. That’s my experience with him.”[/color] [colour=wheat]“HRRRMMMMM. Hmm.”[/colour] Chopstick took another deep breath of Karamir and detached herself. [colour=wheat]“Hmm hm hm. Here. Take this net. You’re Kalmar’s boy, so I figure he’s taught you at least something about catching things.”[/colour] X4B made a grinding noise, which Chopstick ignored, scrabbling around for a net for herself. [colour=wheat]“He has, hasn’t he? I hope he has. Make yourself useful. You too, sparky.”[/colour] Lanternhead X4B stooped laboriously to the floor and picked up the closest, smallest, most beaten-up butterfly net within reach, and held it limp-wristedly, turning her head briefly towards Karamir. Karamir accepted the net, and looked at it with a quizzical expression. [color=yellow]”What am I supposed to catch?”[/color] he asked. [colour=wheat]“The, fuckin’. The flying… You’ll see,”[/colour] said Chopstick. [colour=wheat]“You can catch things, r-”[/colour] Strange lights flashed in on a misty wind and Chopstick screamed. Karamir drew his dagger, which suddenly became a sword. There were some three dozen of them and each one was everything the Lanternheads were not: organic and random and wildly nimble, tumbling and turning and kicking and leaping. Their shapes were fantastic, their colours lurid, blazoned on wings and flaps and tails and jets stitched together with curious textiles and wire, like hot air balloons that had studied the fish and the squid. Their fireball hearts blazed free and airy under their skin, blasting them along through tubular vents. Oh. So this was what he was supposed to catch. He glanced down at the small, battered net, and scowled. Some use that would be. Then he looked at his sword, and he had an idea. He cast the battered net aside, and suddenly the blade of his sword began to shift. Instead of a sword, it became a net itself - only with metal where there had previously been rope, and the rim being wider and larger. Then, in a blur of red, he shot forward and upward, flying himself into their midst. With his metallic net he swung rapidly, catching as many as could fit, before darting back down just as quickly as he went up. [color=orange]”Where should I put these?”[/color] he asked Choppy, as he willed the opening of the net to seal itself. Chopstick watched her fire-spirit scorch its way out from under her net in a flurry of sparks and spiral off whistling into the fog before standing and turning to check. After a moment of absorbing the scene, her sticks rolled widely and she snapped her net over her knee. [colour=wheat]“Aw GUT ME. Why didn’t you think of that, huh? Huh, sparky?”[/colour] Lanternhead X4B tossed her unused net aside without moving much. Chopstick sighed and strode over to Karamir’s catch, which was snickering like a mechanical horse. [colour=wheat]“A metal [i]fucking[/i] net...”[/colour] There were two of the strange creatures in the Weapon, though one was curiously bifurcated. They weren’t much larger than pigeons, and substantially lighter. [colour=wheat]“Sparky, what are they saying?”[/colour] Lanternhead X4B whirred and scraped. [colour=wheat]“Olivia, what’s [i]she[/i] saying?”[/colour] [colour=olivedrab][i]“She wasn’t talking to you,”[/i][/colour] said the melancholy parrot. Chopstick smiled broadly and touched the sides of her head as if they were about to explode. [colour=wheat]“Do [i]they[/i] understand her?”[/colour] [colour=olivedrab][i]“No.”[/i][/colour] Chopstick turned to Karamir with sticks splintering audibly before her face and said, through gritted grinning teeth, [colour=wheat]“I’m gonna [i]fucking lose it.[/i] Who sold you that net?”[/colour] [color=yellow]”Kalmar gave it to me,”[/color] Karamir replied, taking a cautious step back. [color=yellow]”Why?”[/color] Chopstick stared at him with no smile for a moment. Then she deflated. She combed her hair with her fingers. [colour=wheat]“...I’m sorry. You didn’t deserve this,”[/colour] she said, looking out into one of the eye kites. [colour=wheat]“I don’t even know why you’re here. Let’s go inside. Sparky, bring me a coat. I’ll explain everything.”[/colour] X4B stamped her cane on the ground once in affirmation. They disappeared back down into the pagoda, closing a trapdoor behind them, and at Chopstick’s request released the spirits into one of the storeys once all exits had been sealed. They bumbled around merrily with the flying-lanterns, teasing them. Chopstick spoke as they worked. [colour=wheat]“I’m the god with the chopstick eyes. The Market Lord. This was meant to be my office, and it’s gonna be. These people are my staff. I made them to keep track of my things. And things generally. Hey, gourdface, hey, hatboy.”[/colour] Two Lanternheads, one a pumpkin, the other with a wide-brimmed hexagonal lid, greeted them, already illustrating the fire kites on broad easels. [colour=wheat]“I tried to make them last for a long time, but that didn’t work. They’ll wear out in a few decades. So I’ll have to make more. But concentrating enough soul ash for these guys was a… slog. So, I went back to the magic lanterns I made them from, took a few of those, made them halfway into lantern heads so that their souls would fit, then mixed them together with wild kites… You might not know what that is. It’s what it sounds like. The kites can make babies, anyway, so I’ll never run out of new fires. And then I amped up their souls a whole lot.”[/colour] She watched as one of the spirits alighted on ‘hatboy’s hook-hand, her scarred lips tight. [colour=wheat]“Lanternheads are nice- and they work hard- but they’re very… Patient. I was hoping that if I did all that with the new batch of souls, they’d be kind of less passive. Well… turns out they’re still kind of passive, but at ten times the speed. I call them Spitfires.”[/colour] She sighed. [colour=wheat]“Guess I’ll have to take the least ditzy of them to make new Lanternheads. Anyway. That’s where I’ve been at. I wanted to have this building finished ages ago, but these guys took so long to make that I couldn’t, and I don’t even really know how they work. ...Sorry if I snapped at you.”[/colour] Karamir had to admit: this was all somewhat fascinating, but there was a troubling concern nagging him from the back of his mind. [color=yellow]”Just to clarify…”[/color] he said, glancing back and forth across the room. [color=yellow]”We’re still on Galbar, right?”[/color] Chopstick shrugged with several spare shoulders. [colour=wheat]“I mean I’d hope so,”[/colour] she said. Karamir breathed a mild sigh of relief. [color=yellow]”Sorry, it’s just that I’ve only ever seen things this… strange… when I was in a god’s sphere. This is all very interesting though: how long do you think it will take to be completed?”[/color] [colour=wheat]“‘Nother few years.”[/colour] Chopstick dug around in the pockets of the big wool coat X4B had brought her and pulled out some wire and fabric, which she deftly worked together into a kite. [colour=wheat]“I… get you, though. This is kind of a special place. It’s a very me type of place, and I’ve been cooped up here a long time. You probably feel like you’re snooping in someone else’s messy bedroom.”[/colour] She threw the little glider into the room, where one of the spitfires pounced on it, feasting on it midair in a flurry of sparks and smoke. [colour=wheat]“You’re welcome to stay, though. Did you come looking for something? I can totally set you up.”[/colour] Karamir glanced up at the ceiling. Ideas were beginning to take shape inside his head. [color=yellow]”I’m not looking for anything specific,”[/color] he admitted, [color=yellow]”...but since I’m here, is there anything I can do to help you build this place?”[/color] [colour=wheat]“Probably not. If you could tell me how that net of yours works, though, that’d be super cool. Or your cloak. You can fly with that, right? And besides, I owe you one for helping out.”[/colour] He nodded, and held up the net. [color=yellow]”It’s not really a net,”[/color] he said, and with that it morphed back into a dagger. [color=yellow]”It can be whatever weapon I imagine, with some limitations… but apparently tools count, so that’s how I did that. As for the cloak… yes, it lets me fly.”[/color] He returned the dagger to its sheathe before Chopstick got a chance to reveal her own blade and compare sizes. [color=yellow]”If I can’t help, I’d still like to stay, for a time. It’d be useful to have a place where I can practice mana without worrying about the weather, and it will be good to see how a place like this can be built.”[/color] He shrugged. [color=yellow]”I like to learn things.”[/color] [colour=wheat]“Well, in that case, maybe you could start with these!”[/colour] Chopstick flipped the top of a nearby box, almost tipping it over, and pulled out two books, one bright and one plain. The bright one was titled [i]‘You Are A Moron: Pictographic Calculus for the Completely Illiterate’[/i]. The other was written in a braille, its cover embossed with [i]‘Advanced Watercolour Painting for the Blind’[/i]. [colour=wheat]“I don’t know what they’re about, but I gave them to the lanternheads and apparently they learned a lot,”[/colour] said Chopstick Eyes, grinning ear to ear. [colour=wheat]“They’re real good at this whole counting and painting thing. They even use paintbrushes.”[/colour] Karamir glanced at the titles and squinted. [color=yellow]”Pictograph… Calculus? Watercolours? What do those even mean?”[/color] [colour=wheat]“Is that what they say?”[/colour] Chopstick smiled blankly, flicking through the mathematics textbook. [colour=wheat]“I know watercolour is paint with water as a fluid medium for the pigment, instead of like, oil, or acrylic. That’s not what Hatboy and Gourdface are using right now, but I know the others are keen on it.”[/colour] She tossed the book over her shoulder, where ‘sparky’ caught it without looking, then looked at it curiously for a moment and returned it to the box. [colour=wheat]“I can show you that pretty easily. The rest, you’ll probably have to get the lampnoggins. Ask around! They’re pretty helpful, just not when you need them to talk.”[/colour] [color=yellow]”I see…”[/color] he said slowly. [color=yellow]”I’ll have to get on that. Another question: you don’t mind if I practice mana here, do you?”[/color] [colour=wheat]“Don’t know what that is. Is it explosive?”[/colour] [color=yellow]”Uh… it can be,”[/color] Karamir answered reluctantly. [color=yellow]”Abanoc told me about it. It’s this energy that can be found all around the world. Mortals can use it to do things they can’t normally do.”[/color] he held out a hand and a small flame flickered from his finger, before sputtering out. [colour=wheat]“Oh, so that’s what [i]this[/i] stuff is,”[/colour] said Chopstick, rummaging in her coat pockets until she found a crisp dollar bill. She folded it neatly into a paper man and tapped it, whereupon it morphed into a crude clay figurine, wriggling weakly. [colour=wheat][i]“Leverage.”[/i][/colour] Karamir raised his eyebrows, but he was unsure if she actually used mana, or if she simply used her divine powers. Best not to question it, he decided. [color=yellow]”Yes… but I was told it’s called mana. Can any of your ‘lampnoggins’ use it?”[/color] [colour=wheat]“Nah, they’re paid in art supplies,”[/colour] said Chopstick, squashing the figure. [color=yellow]”Well then…”[/color] Karamir said. [color=yellow]”If there’s nothing else, I’ll be going back outside. Let me know if you need help catching any more of those… things.”[/color] [colour=wheat]“Figure I can manage, now that I’ve got these to practice on. Hmm.”[/colour] She stretched. [colour=wheat]“You pay the air to fly, right? Something like that.”[/colour] [color=yellow]”Uh… no,”[/color] answered Karamir, who had already been in the process of turning to leave, and now had to look back. [color=yellow]”The cloak allows me to fly at no cost to myself. I don’t know if mana could be used to fly without it. I haven’t tried.”[/color] [colour=wheat]“Give it a shot if you’re practicing on my grounds,”[/colour] saith the Lord. [colour=wheat]“I can push you out of a high window if you want. Or if you’d rather do some, I dunno, botanical illustration, you’re free to stay and mess around with the candlemugs as long as you’re keen. I’ll leave it up to you!”[/colour] [color=yellow]”I... will keep that in mind.”[/color] [hr] Time passed. Bricks were made and baked and raised, and there came a moment when, all of a sudden, the Abacadarium stood complete. Clouds streamed over it and off its edges, like water, and kites floated from it like the distant leaves of a branchless tree. Chopstick kicked apart the gargantuan treadmill-crane with great mirth, and set it on fire thereafter. When the ash was cleared and the grounds were paved and gardened, they soon sprouted into a maze of finished charcoals and watercolours, hung to dry or to display, depicting things the Lanternheads had seen or been brought. Some of them depicted Karamir. Chopstick pranced daydreamy through the paper and canvas, a shoal of Spitfires whining at her, tugging her silk shirt this way and that, each begging to lead her away and show her some trinket or other. She played with a bundle of steel wool from a steel sheep, tossing fragments of nutritious wire for the spirits to swarm over. [colour=wheat]“I guess you’re not staying much longer, huh?”[/colour] Karamir was seated in an empty space of grass that was clear of flowers or drawings. A fire had been built, and somewhere he had found a grate which he used to construct a makeshift grill. His multi-weapon had been converted into a spatula, which he used to flip a sizzling fish. He leaned forward to inspect it more closely, sniffed, and then looked up at Chopstick. [color=yellow]”Probably not. It was interesting to see this place built, but there’s more out there for me to see,”[/color] he admitted. He wasn’t sure how much use what he had witnessed could be - for example, how could he possibly replicate something like that crane? He had, however, made ample use of his time, by honing his understanding of mana. In addition to advancing his skill over winds, he had also begun to practice the manipulation of water, finding that it required a similar move and mindset. There was a stream that flowed through the pagoda, at which he had practiced at almost every day. [color=yellow]”Thanks for letting me stay,”[/color] he nodded. [colour=wheat]“No problem. You’re a cool kid,”[/colour] said Chopstick, sticking a marshmallow on a stiff wire and setting it on fire under the grill. [colour=wheat]“Tell Kalmar I said hi, if you catch him again. Or anyone else, really.”[/colour] [color=yellow]”I will,”[/color] Karamir nodded, as the spatula became a fork and he speared the fish. [hr] [hider=Post Summary] Karamir wakes up receiving the message that his species has created. His appearance has changed slightly. He decides to explore the Kick in greater detail, so he does. He finds the Feasting Forest and has some encounters with the local wildlife. Then he stumbles across Choppy's pagoda, which is under construction. There is a weird lantern-headed creature with a talking parrot on its shoulder. It takes him to meet Chopstick Eyes, who sets him to the task of capturing some escaped defective lantern fire spirit things. I dunno. She gives him a wooden net which Karamir realizes will be useless, so he shifts his Multi-Weapon into a metal one which is far more effective. Chopstick is frustrated by this, and wants to know where he got it. He tells her. She calms down, and he asks her some questions about the pagoda. He asks if there is any way he can help with the building process or if Chopstick's followers can be taught mana (and then has to explain what mana is), but the answer to both questions is no. In the end he decides he'll stay at the pagoda anyway, because he's interested to see just how such a colossal structure can be built. Years pass, and Karamir spends most of that time on the pagoda, watching it be built and finding quiet places to practice his mana. Eventually the building is completed, and it's time to leave, so he does. He exchanges a goodbye with Choppy and goes on his way. [/hider] [hider=Prestige Summary] [u]Karamir[/u] [b]Beginning Prestige:[/b] 14 +1 for minor role. +1 for major role. +1 for collab. -2 to claim the title “First of the Vallamir.” -2 to claim the title “Mend Clothes.” A spell which allows him to repair clothing (it does not create new material, however.) -2 to claim the title: "Rushing Water," allowing Karamir to use mana to manipulate liquid water. [b]Ending Prestige:[/b] 11 [hider=Titles] First of the Vallamir. The Wizard. Violent Winds. Rushing Water. Mend Clothes. [/hider] [/hider] [hider=Choppy Receipt] Oh god, this one’s a mess. Choppy needs to get her finances in order after all those audits. AFAIK she has 16 MP and 12 FP to throw around this turn. 10 belated Might is spend building the Abacadarium, Chopstick’s official pagoda. This is a Holy Site staffed by Lanternheads, as detailed earlier. 4 Might is spent creating the Spitfires, a kite/hot air balloon/lantern spirit kind of deal. These are a sapient race in their own right, to be detailed a little more later. They’re a bit like Lanternhead tadpoles. Delicious. True to their nature as lanterns, they like showing people things and leading them places, so I’m gonna call that Might spent towards Lanterns. 2 Age of Lords Might are spent teaching Lanternheads to how take precise measurements of the natural world and how to make accurate illustrations thereof, respectively. Important for accounting! I THINK THAT’S IT IDK [b]Chopstick Eyes | Butterwort in Midsummer 2 Might (Native) 10 Might (Age of Lords) Markets | Knives Kites (5/5) Lanterns (5/5) Cuisine (5/5)[/b] Lanternheads gain +1 Prestige for a minor-ish role and +1 for collabing. I think they still have 1 Prestige from their introduction post too, they had a very minor role, but eh, it [i]was[/i] a collab. [b]Lantern Heads Knife-Eyed 3 Prestige[/b] [/hider]