Liu, without any fancy magic to speak of, was satisfied with the performance of his group. Hopefully they got the picture -- he was much more for utility than battle -- and didn't think too poorly of it. Resorting to crudeness once more, he let go of the dog with one arm and dropped the sharp of his elbow upon its head and body three times to hopefully break the form down. Hopefully they didn't think too poorly of it either. Nothing shimmered, no light gathered upon his limbs, it was mere violence. Sap and juice began to cover his limbs and clothing. Very much unlike the good doctor and pretty much everyone else in the party, he was very rapidly becoming covered in forest filth.
No abilities or items used, strength is B. Natural Armor A (or B) is in his repertoire.
Liu was all but prepared to shove the creature's attack off with some combination of natural fortitude and pedestrian antics but the opportunity never arose. Mercifully the doctor shielded the group from their herbal assault and he was ready to jump in. Lowering his stance, he draped his arms down and bent his elbows a little, widening his stance even further. Crouched down, he rapidly dashed to the side of the beast and surged into its flank, attempting to scoop it up and linebacker run it into the center dog, and if he could get away with it, into the leftmost after that. He wanted to pile these unruly weeds into one heap on top of the leftmost dog, and whatever spiritual magnetism held his body together strained against the weight.
Through peculiar occult sense, he was able to enhance his own fortitude, hoping to protect himself from the beasts' immediate counterattacks in that way.
Actions: 1. Move [Fast E] 2. Bulldoze dog 1 3. Bulldoze dog 2
effectiveness: of 'bulldoze' is 5 -- no abilities or items used, strength is B. Natural Armor A (or B) is in his repertoire.
"Well... artist," he corrected Esther gently. A soft spot he volunteered to the group, perhaps the first one.
Though the expectation of ambush was there, he still walked into it. While his group mobilized, drawing their wondrous power to their defense, Liu carefully walked to place himself chiefly between the nearest plant and the young dragon. Crackling leaves were swallowed up in the strange sounds coming from the beasts. His right foot pushed outward a little bit. The wider stance would help with traction when inevitably he would have to speed to someone's aid, or move to absorb a blow. He was thankful that the group found his intelligence gathering capabilities acceptable because his combat ability would almost certainly come up lacking compared to the rest.
This fact became settled when light surged from the young master's weapon. No incantations, glitz or arcane might, he raised his arms up to cover both sides of his face, the stance of a boxer -- although he had nothing there in particular to protect. It was a matter of habit from his days when daily combat was an expectation from him. He had not yet learned the dullness and indifference inevitable for the undead.
"When we can move, out of their circle," he suggested sharply, waiting for those creatures to make the first move, and looking for any more in hiding. He knew wolves to employ disturbingly clever tactics, and there is no telling (for him) how intelligent a creature in this world is at a glance.
Actions: 1. Search for wolves not hanging out in the open. 2. Attempt to recall how many signatures he felt in the ping.
At this point he elected to take out the remote viewing orb. Not by accident, he contrived this moment to punctuate his skills (maybe they would hire him again). Walking forward to the front of the group, he gently requested of them, "give me just a few moments and I will represent the major details of the area in front of us. Be. Vigilant. I will be useless while I conduct this work."
It took a great deal of meditation during the long nights his quick companions slept for him to realize that his vision was no longer the same. It was a gradual realization followed by a rapid development: he has no eyes therefore no reason to "look" anywhere. He had no words to describe the way his sense of sight first retreated and curled in on itself, and in its place some occult radiation became his source of sensory information, and no other sense could penetrate this fog. The sound of a deep inhale could be heart emanating from him, and then a short 'hng' as though some invisible diaphragm were bucking against the rest of his empty body, which began rattling as though buffeted by a strong wind, or shaken by an earthquake unfelt by the rest of the group.
The situation from his perspective was singular. His sense of the world shot out of him and smeared, becoming a thing beside, and crawled over the landscape without ego and without intention, a spirit upon the air swelling over all places for a fleeting moment like a sheet or tide and shrank down to impress itself upon the land and trees, and creatures between them before all at once gathering within him again. His upright body swayed for a moment and from his waist down, the clattering of bones could be heard upon the soil, his upper torso collapsed to the ground without resistance. He was without animation for but a moment before his head and arm twitched. Without getting up, he gathered from his bag and unfolded a simple contraption. A little square easel comprised of incredibly thin strips of wood and dowels, and thinly braided linen cord, unfolded and held some kind of waxy vellum-like substance taut by lacing through its outer edges. Its surface was clouded with the residue of past drawing. He produced a smoothed and shaped stick of some kind of black artistic material, perhaps a pastel or charcoal, and began rendering general features of the landscape and forest around them with practiced and careful hand.
He could feel for those few moments every tree in the wood, every musty holt, every waving bush and sleeping fern, every ravine cut into the land, every bog slumping away from firm ground, every body of water in pooled repose against the rough flesh of the earth. For a few moments, every creature moving, every horror marching, every terror hiding in wait had its fine outer shape, distance, speed, and direction beamed into his head at once. Against the paper, his arm seemed to move mechanically, the rigid wooden device braced in his right hand and against the bony crook of his elbow while his left hand rendered the information in the form of lines, textures, markings, and short codes of numbers and letters pertaining to tiny, tiny marks of arrows extending from dots notated in the aforementioned manner -- some kind of profession shorthand, standard or invented, just to try to hold grasp of this enormous wealth of information. Luckily for him he was only interested in the hemisphere of the forest stretching before them and his mind was apt for the task.
While the deed was done he remained on the ground, occasionally scrubbing the side of the black pencil against the canvas to sharpen it before continuing. His left hand was a blur in the low light. In shockingly little time, a readable map of the terrain sweeping out in front of them for a mile took shape and he did his best to capture each thing he could recognize as a creature noted as though the still image of a radar scan. However, in a ghastly wood like this, some creatures should be easily recognizable, but he was inescapably bewildered by a great deal of alien habitation. In this context he didn't bother to distinguish between flora and fauna. Once the sketch was finished, he laid there for a moment, his mind raw for just a short while due to the download. Without saying anything, his legs gradually reassembled, each fragment tugged as though by magnetism to their rightful places which allowed him to rise again at length. He turned the easel toward the group and presented the information, still somewhat unsteady on his legs, his long black buttoned shirt with a cut robe front attached now dirtied by forest debris.
Abilities used: [Minimap A: Visual Arts A, Supersense Spatial Awareness (shape, texture, speed, distance, direction) C (1 mile), Navigation D, Fast A]
Stats:
Strength B Precision A Intelligence A Vitality B Speed A
Liu's form folded into the carriage lithely. With his feet planted on the ground his knees were above his waist by a couple inches, such was his height. Carriage travel was weirdly uncomfortable as a skeleton. Vehicles are designed to carry skeletons -- wrapped in protein and filled with water. A skeleton on its own weighs risibly little in comparison and that difference manifests in his head bouncing hollowly off the carriage roof once due to what must have been a merely noticeable bump to the rest of of the group. Shortly afterward a shallow dip on his side of the carriage sent his body clattering against the wall. He 'cleared his throat' and braced his form against the roof and the door for the remainder of the ride.
To say the least his company was trustworthy back home. A powerful group capable of a great deal, whom he respected and trusted... where possible. Esther posed an innocent question on the surface but Liu, holding back a laugh, remembered a time when he would have volunteered the information. He was thankful for his uncovered bone form, for his poker face was implicit. To her question, he responded apologetically, "discretion, madame, will not allow me to say. I am afraid that in this type of world, that sort of information can deliver one's life into the hands of another in a moment. You understand, as a Fey, what a name can do, for example. You hear my name only because I am bound to another already."
"I apologize if this discretion has been misconstrued as apathy by the... honorable second son, the auspicious great dragon Griselda, the professor, our newcomer, or you. I will volunteer that you should speak as though an enemy is in the room unless you are certain of the contrary," he concluded eventually, spealking precisely and gently, though his voice was not quiet. He tried to say it isotropically but the more perceptible of the group could likely guess who among them he thought to be his greatest threat.
He did indeed step out promptly and allow the others to follow. His 'eyes' scanned around looking for immediate danger but found his focus drawn to the 'breath' surging to and fro. Tredipation began crawling up his neck. How intense.
Liu was struck by how rapidly Penny became overwhelmed. He's seen it before, usually in recruits before their training, although by the time he set foot in real training there was already so much bitterness that the look was a rarity. He noted that, he noted the dragon, and he noted Esther's adnission that she had never been in combat before. Liu was mostly defensive, although a hardness of body allowed him to act aggressively; losing any of these three on his watch would be a problem, and a personal one, at that. He dare not let himself think about who to prioritize. Not yet anyway. Rather than allow his mind to wander, the voids of his eyes locked onto the automatic carriage.
Strategically, he should be sitting by a door -- is the assessment he made. On account of this he began ensuring this operational requirement by reaching the carriage first. To the outside perspective, his gait had every appearance of walking. It wasn't any faster or more frantic. However, he was covering an astonishing and of course inhuman amount of ground. Each time he switched leading foot in his 'walk' his body seemed to sail over the ground and cover a few meters at once. One might assume he was hovering if unable to see his feet touching the ground. It was this way that he demonstrated at the very least that he is [Fast], at least [Fast C], if not [Fast B], and precise enough to flow through any foot traffic effortlessly with an ingrained sense of [Precision] and [Spatial Awareness]. He intended to be the first one at the door and open it for everyone else once they neared the device.
A bony hand slipped back and scooped one for himself and the melancholy faded. Standing straight with his missing backbone, he made for the door. It seemed to him that cooler weather made cooler heads. Something about heat sends the living wild. Somehow this dragon kid's personality made a great deal more sense to Liu, indulging a moment in fallacy. All this talk about courts and jesters threatened to make him laugh. Rather than activate any functionality on the orb, he would make a move to stow it in his small bag for safekeeping. They likely had no use for observing the trip out of town.
"A jester? He does you credit. The jester tells the regent when they are wrong. Between his opalescent minder and you, he shall have no excuse for rashness," Liu noted to Esther with a quiet, resonant tone.
It was no wonder this newcomer mistook him for a decoration. With his back to the rest of them, he froze on the spot at the sight of this interloper (having assumed their party was complete before). He could presume no mischief; who could carry out ill intent while holding a bagel? He remained still for just long enough to affirm the misidentification before slowly turning toward the rest of the group to gauge their reactions, before turning back to ask, "ah... are you lost?"
Fei Liu Sisyphus Happy Relationship status: not interested Sex: it Racial Trees: monster (undead) Crafter: yes, Visual Arts Factions: (The Coven of Iberis Odhir Max Standing: unsure/ (n/a) Points earned:353 Combatant: yes? Combat Effectiveness: B Post frequency: 1-2 days Preferred rp genre(s): not romance Rp or character goals: trying to get settled and understand the world Anything else relevant and handy at a glance: is a skeleton
Liu held silent for this instance. The talking would come later. He had no hope of detecting anyone's assumptions about his origins, had no interest in defending Iberis, and had no trouble suppressing his desire to make fun of Hasufer (since he met the evil lord in a state of destitution and ignominy). Introductions were done and the lovely proctor was angling toward the end of the meeting, an end to which he and her were aligned. Truthfully, he hated this duchy. The sliding doors, the levitating things, the weird lights, the upsettingly intricate public 'conveniences.' He was made to be a rube, a perfectly polite rube at least, and that irked him more than any dismissal. What is wrong with opening the door with ones own hand?
His silent agreement to having no further questions was him rising from his seat again. This scenario was one of the few he was familiar with. Encountering enormous primordial beings and negotiating the oddities of the See numbered among the frightfully few things he involved himself with in this world and these bare, preliminary details hinted toward that domain, not that he felt reassured.
Liu leaned forward and scooped an orb carefully with both hands. The life of a noble, he felt, is not so easy. A peasant may be plagued by disease and starvation in bad times, but in peaceful times the connection to the land and the work with their hands sustains them and exceeds their rest; the land may love them gently in their toil when they dress its loam yearly for victory over dearth, and the seasons drag them by the arms and dance them until panting and glowing all their years. A noble is plagued whereas, by competition and plots, their grand halls a boulder to roll uphill, their severe ancestors glower at them from shrewdly rendered paintings that line their halls, always bigger, and better, or else. Accompanied by the friends of their parents, or possible suitors, or competitors to dominate before their time, or employees. The second son has it worst, he pitied silently. The 'plan B,' on edge always. Required to be excellent but only tossed the leftovers, only expected to rise up without shame if the dear eldest dies. Or, if the mother is a jealous one, executed upon the primogenitus' glorious rise, and relegated to the footnotes after all that work. Liu was too busy feeling sad to be offended.
Silently and promptly, he turned leaned forward and presented the orb to Vetreus, his face and shoulders bowed a little, his height stubbornly salient.
Strength B
Precision A
Intelligence A
Vitality B
Speed A
Natural Armor A Super sense C (Spatial Awareness) Darkvision F (racial) (7) Poison Resistance F (racial) (7)
Careful attention was the silent respect Liu paid to Dr. Vaust. An eyeless stare probed for the reason that this gentleman, placid and pallid, could emanate such an unsettling feeling. Robust though Liu is, and mercifully unaffected by the aura of menace, in this place without obvious danger it was distracting. Liu was ignorant and nubile despite his energy. It took him months to find a permanent place, being what he is, he had no way to employ his skills independently. There was no opportunity for him to experience this unsettling aura before, and Iberis, his master, had not told him about such an effect -- to his recollection. Eerie feelings had to wait, however, since he had no intention to waste time in introductions by wallowing in cluelessness.
Standing with an unmistakable military air, his entire form was revealed. Astonishingly tall at over 6 and a half feet, he wore a simple garb and a small bag. It was a simple black gauze garment with long sleeves which clung to his torso with buttons and fell to his ankles without them, open in the front to reveal trousers of the same material. Without ostentation and without any interesting ornaments. His shining skull (those in the 'business' of having undead might notice that it is indeed polished and thinly waxes) was audaciously uncovered. He introduced himself with a gentle and precise tone of refinement, "with humility, Fei Liu, familiar of necromancer Iberis Odhir. I am merely a material instrument and a wall, and would be honored, of course, to stand between you and danger, doctor Vaust" and sat back down. From the moment Vaust entered the room, Liu's skull faced the wall between him and the delightfully severe Valeriana to keep them both 'in view.' He was only half lying. Despite his -- to be honest, annoyance -- at the doctor's irritating aura, he knew his job, and he know where he stood when compared to those present.
The skeleton sat back down, relinquishing the spotlight at last.
Titles: [Unbroken] [Magic-touched] [Familiar of Iberis Odhir] [Undead] Goal: Information related to the art of necromancy or magic in general to return to his master.
Not a Sayan
Fetzen
SkyeOfStars