[center][img]https://img.roleplayerguild.com/prod/users/0198b54e-ab2e-74fa-825f-dc6351dd29bf.webp[/img] [color=2cc785]"Names are objectively better when they include an umlaut."[/color] [color=888888] -Salbjörg of the Deep[/color] [/center] Sal awoke. Before assessing her surroundings, the first thing she did was stand up. It wasn’t until Sal was on her feet that she realized that she had no recollection of where she was. That wasn't to say she was ignorant about her surroundings. They were underground, that red spinning thing was a crystal, and that long piece of parchment was a scroll. But other than that she was lost. She couldn’t remember going to sleep, or really anything before waking up here. It was possible that this was her first time standing up, as unlikely as it seemed. She lifted her hands up in front of her face. Even with her situation being unclear to her, what she saw looked familiar. The dress was tattered towards the back, and she understood that came with age. When she looked further down her body, she didn’t find anything that surprised her. Everything felt strangely natural, even though she wasn’t intimately acquainted with it all yet. Her otherwise revealing dress came with a single pauldron. By reaching under it, she could feel some hidden compartments, but wasn’t aware of why she had them, or even why she would have bothered checking. For all she didn’t know, she at least had an understanding of what she was. Moreover, she seemed to understand the line of monsters she was standing with, and that she was superior to all of them somehow. There was an Illithid at one end of the line. It had a lanky appearance that its fine clothes couldn’t hide. It was also bald. Deep eyes though. Five out of ten. There was a ghost. It was difficult to make out the shape of their body, but their profile left a bit to be desired. What was with that nose? Even better eyes though. Judgement pending, but four out of ten for now. Rats. Just a pile of rats. Nothing but vermin. Kind of cute though. Three out of ten. A goblin. Short and easy to punt. Hmm, but that nose. There’s not a single wart to be seen. Nine out of ten among goblins, but a four out of ten on her scale. Another goblin. What’s with this one? She’s so disfigured, but that face? Ten out of ten face, two out of ten with everything. And… She didn’t know what to call this one. It looked like a headless human suspended in an abyss of stars. Very unnatural. Not sure how to feel. Rating pending. There looked to be room at the far end of the line for someone else, but it was empty. Even though she could remember nothing of this room, she could almost make out what should have been there. A Barghest? No. An Ogre Berzerker? No. A succubus? No. Maybe a heavy centaur? Maybe, but then why weren't they there? Sal couldn’t rate something that didn’t exist, and this random thought was soon put out of her mind. A skeleton wearing robes. Possibly a lich? Didn’t seem to be moving. No point in rating. As soon as Sal finished her assessment, a noise caught everyone’s attention. She turned her head, [i]then[/i] her eyes towards the distraction as it made its appearance. It half mumbled, half explained things with the assistance of a chalk drawing on the wall. It was a rather pitiful presentation, and one that she felt she could have done better. But it was helpful to know why they were here, even if she didn’t understand the [i]how[/i] yet. There were a lot of questions that Sal wanted to ask, but it seemed like everyone was supposed to introduce themselves. The Illithid wasted no time going first, even going as far as mentioning his occupation. Dungeon development team? It sounded familiar to Sal somehow, in the same sense that she knew she belonged in her body. What seemed less natural was the request to be paid in human brains. Was that something that was freely traded? Were they preferred to elf brains or beast man brains? And those names for the dungeon spirit were just… Once the Illithid was done. Sal cleared her throat. [color=2cc785]"My name issssssss…"[/color] Alright, let’s try that again. [color=2cc785]"My name issssssss…"[/color] Okay, this could be a problem. Again, Sal’s speech impediment felt like a natural part of her, even if she only learned of it now. Something else she was becoming aware of was how humiliating this felt. She couldn’t say her own name? Really? How was she supposed to maintain respect this way? Fortunately, she had a plan. But it felt less like a plan and more like some practiced motion she suddenly remembered to execute. Sal put out her hand and a long placard appeared in it. It was pale and ivory, and had her name carved into it. She pointed at the letters and sounded them out. [color=2cc785]"Ssssal, bbbbbyorg."[/color] She pronounced it slowly. [color=2cc785]"That will be what you call me."[/color] Crisis averted. Majesty maintained, probably. [color=2cc785]"Now for your name…"[/color] The dungeon spirit had asked what it should be called. It didn’t sound like it wanted a unanimous decision, but just wanted to hear suggestions. As such, there was no need to limit herself to what Muste wanted to call it, nor would he even need to be debated before presenting her own choice. A name needed to fit the subject but complement the owner. And given that this creature seemed to be subservient to them, given that they were dungeon masters, it made sense that its name should complement them. She flipped the placard around, and a new name was on the back that read "Bóthildur." [color=2cc785]"We will call you Bbboh-thhhil-dddoor."[/color] She sounded it out like she had with her own name. Perhaps calling the dungeon spirit "battle-helper" was a little on the nose, and not too far from what Muste was going for. But this was so much better. Perhaps too good for a seven out of ten creature.