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TEST DRIVE MEME #8
Welcome to the eighth test drive meme for Abraxas! This meme is run a little bit differently than most in that you'll be asked to choose one of the three different arrival scenarios below for your character to take. If you have any questions about this mechanic or anything else related to the TDM, please take a look at the questions below or ask one of your own under the Questions header below. For general game questions please still use the FAQ.
Our Setting pages are full of information on the world of Abraxas, and an overview of the story so far can be found on our Game History page! Anything on that page - including information about the Horizon and the Singularity - can be assumed to be told to newcomers after they arrive, no matter which faction they are received in. For more information on Ambrose and the apprentice mages, Marlo, and Rowan, please see our NPCs page.
You can also find answers to questions asked on previous TDMs in their respective questions threads.
◎ Rumor has it that two emissaries - a werewolf and a vampire - visited from Nocwich in early July. With them came some wares distributed to shops throughout each faction. A few sparse items may remain for purchase, such as glowing flowers or fine ales, but much of it has now been sold.
◎ New arrivals in THE FREE CITIES may hear a bit of chatter around Cadens about art, politics, and recent performances involving its sister city, Libertas. It's all standard fare - the kind of topics spoken about over a beer or in line at the market - but there's a small stir in the air.
◎ Lately, locals in SOLVUNN have begun to approach the Summoned with a sort of awe and respect. New arrivals will find themselves treated much the same way and may be asked for advice or given gifts that seem like offerings such as wine, harvest bounties, or some delicious goat cheese. Your character is free to turn these down and should they turn down enough people, they will not be bothered further as no one wishes to offend them.
You awaken suspended in the abyss, silent darkness stretching out in all directions. If you try to yell, you'll find that the sound doesn't carry. If you try to move, you'll find it's impossible to tell whether or not you're actually getting anywhere. If you reach for an item you were carrying last time you remember being awake, your hand will only touch bare skin.
You're naked and floating helplessly through the void, and what little air you have in your lungs is running out.
There's a pinprick of light that almost looks like a faraway star but as it grows it becomes clear that it's actually quite close. Through the opening you can see a bright room, but it's hard to make out any individual objects, as if you're looking from beneath rippling water.
A hand plunges through and you realize water is just what it is. Whether you take hold of the hand or not it will grab you and yank you up through the surface, lifting you out until you're sprawled on solid ground. Once you catch your breath, you can get a better look at the surroundings: tall trees and even taller stone pillars surround the platform you're laying on. Behind you is an ornate fountain, the base of which is so deep and so dark you might be compelled to scramble away from it lest it suck you back in to that endless abyss. Ahead of you are the walls of a large castle with several tall towers reaching up towards the sky.
If you had any powers, they feel unusually weak. Attempts to use magic or enhanced strength or powers of any sort fizzle out without any effect, but they don't feel completely gone, either.
Set into an indent on a marble slab behind the fountain is a card bearing the image of one of the arcana.
An apprentice mage - the one whose hand lifted you out of the fountain - brushes the water off on their robes and runs back to join a group of three others, who all stare intently at a mage with highly decorated robes and a large, heavy book. He peers up at you for a moment and starts flipping through the book.
"One moment," he says, not bothering to look up from the tome. He looks tired. "I am Ambrose Rhett, the High Mage of the Kingdom of Thorne. We’ll explain everything in a moment, but for now, please calm down. You’re completely fine."
Regardless of your response, he keeps flipping through the pages, until he stops on one specific passage, stares at it for a moment, and then sighs with relief:
"Finally!"
Ambrose's expression brightens, relief visible across his features. He waves one of the apprentices over with a fine silk tunic, pants, and some basic sandals and with a wave of his hand they reshape to fit you perfectly.
"Oh, thank heavens," he says, closing the book and approaching you with a sort of worn-out relief. “I was beginning to believe we’d never get it exactly right.”
Now that he's not hunching over the book, he doesn't seem quite so stuffy and inapproachable. The apprentices all seem to visibly relax, and the one that handed you the tunic stops to take the tarot card down from the marble slab. If you show any curiosity about the card, they'll let you take a longer look, but won't let you touch it.
"Please, come with me," he says, motioning for you to follow him towards the castle. "As promised, my pupils will explain your current situation. And, ah - if you had any magic of your own, or other special abilities you can't access right now, fear not, they'll return within the week. The summoning takes a lot out of you."
One of the apprentices steps forward and rattles on and on about the castle, Thorne itself, the names of a bunch of royals and nobles, and of course, your reason for being here. The Kingdom and the world itself is in great peril, and tales of your exploits have reached far and wide across universes. If asked about these exploits, the apprentice will simply smile and shrug. The High Mage was happy to see you and that's good enough.
Once inside the castle you're taken to the North Wing, which has been set up as living quarters for you and your fellow newcomers. There are four people to a room, but each generously-sized bed has opaque curtains that can be drawn around it. You can meet your roommates here and discuss your shared situation (those who were previously brought in may have a great deal of information to tell you), or you can wander around and meet the others.
There's also a dining hall stocked with a rotating 24/7 buffet in celebration of the new honored guests. Somehow, your very favorite food is part of the rotation (or at least an attempted recreation of it given the limited technology available to the Thorneans). The town surrounding the castle is all abuzz as well, with most shops and services willing to give free samples of their wares to the new arrivals.
You may also notice that your sign is embroidered on your tunic: the same image you saw on the card from before with the name of the sign itself beneath it. If you ask the castle residents, they'll tell you a little bit about your sign (and will mostly stick to the positives, although some might point out the negatives).
Last (and, if you ask anyone else in the castle, least) there is a worn stone staircase leading underground to the dungeon. You can go there, if you wish, but all powers are restricted in the dungeons and most of the cells stand empty.
You find yourself pulled from the water by a pair of strong hands. Dry warmth hits you at once as you're set on a warm hard floor. As your senses return you realize you're on dull ruddy stone and surrounded by strangers. Men and women in unfamiliar uniforms of brown and red leather stand in a semi-circle around a small pool of water. The very pool you were just pulled from. The water is still now, rimmed in pale gold tiles with odd symbols etched into them. Across it on the far side is a raised pedestal with a card propped on it. The card bears an arcana symbol.
You feel weak. Drained. Any abilities or magical powers you have seem far away and impossible to access. You're in what looks like a cave lit by dozens and dozens of torches set into the wall. There's no furniture or decoration to be seen besides the pool. It's almost uncomfortably warm and there's the sound of rushing wind somewhere in the distance. Flickering shadows obscure the faces of the guards. A robed woman stands off to the side, looking at you anxiously and then to the authoritative woman standing before you. She's grinning, dressed in a fancier uniform than the others. There's a sword at her hip. A guard covers you with a blanket and returns to their place in the semi-circle.
The woman with the sword gives a nod of approval and smiles warmly.
"Sorry about the circumstances."
She gives you a good hard look before standing again.
"Take a minute, catch your breath, you've had quite a shock. Take it nice and easy. I'm Prime Minister Marlo Reiner and you're in The Free Cities. That nice lady over there will explain everything to you and get you settled." A nod to the robed woman off to the side.
Marlo Reiner steps back and the robed mage approaches to help you up.
"Come with me, please." She brings you out of the cave through a corridor that angles upwards until you emerge in what looks like some kind of storage facility. Shelves of wooden boxes and cloth bags line them, unidentifiable parts of what might be machines are tucked into corners and propped against shelving units. "This is one of the Free Cities' outposts," the mage explains as she leads you. "We're honored to have you with us, I'm sure you have many questions but please save them. You need to recover!"
You'll learn you're in the Cadens Desert Outpost 003, a military outpost on the outskirts of Cadens city. You're brought to a room in the barracks that's been prepared. Each barracks room is rather sparse and utilitarian. Six simple beds set against the wall, three on each side of the room, each with a trunk at the foot of it. You're told the world is in a delicate and dangerous times and you're needed to help. You're important, you're told, and they're very grateful you're here.
You're asked to stay close for the time being, but to make yourself at home. The outpost is more a proper military base than the name implies, with full facilities. The barracks have a communal bathing room at the end of the hall, with curtains that can be pulled around the individual raised round tubs for privacy. There's a mess hall that has food available from sun up till a few hours after sundown. You're even encouraged to make use of the training grounds, if you'd like, with non-lethal training weapons available for use and obstacle courses set up. And the city of Cadens is only a couple of hours away by wagon - though you're asked initially to please be back at the outpost within a few hours of the sun going down.
For your own safety.
The feeling of floating is the first sense that comes to you as the edges of unconsciousness start to ebb. Sunlight filters through the rippling water as you open your eyes, making you squint. Before you have the chance to panic and inhale, firm hands grasp your arms and pull you to the surface of the water. Moments later, soft warmth is wrapped around your shoulders as you're guided on unsteady legs out of a pool of water. You're lowered to the soft grass. Men and women in simple garments with lavish embroidery stand by, waiting with bated breath, glancing seriously at an old man in an ornate robe. He holds an old leather-bound book in one hand and in the other is a card bearing an arcana symbol. His eyes move quickly over the page, and he mumbles idly to himself.
Any strength you may have possessed feels as though it has slipped through your fingers. Any abilities or magical powers you have don't come to the surface no matter how hard you try. You're in a grassy clearing in the midst of a circle of large stone slabs stacked to look like doorways. In the middle is the same glimmering pool you were just pulled from. A gentle breeze blows through, carrying the scent of flowers and herbs from an ornately decorated altar set off in front of one of the stone doorways. The mage closes his book and steps out of the water, addressing a matronly old woman. Behind her are two younger people, a rough-looking man, and a meek young girl, both of whom are also watching the mage.
“I detect no ill will from the gods, it seems we've been blessed with success.” Those that had gathered all breathe a sigh of relief and now seem pleased.
The old woman smiles and steps forward, offering to take your hands and help you stand. “Any gift the gods give us is one we will happily take. I'm certain you have many questions, and they will all be answered in time. For now, rest and know you will be taken care of.”
She pats the top of your hand and steps away with a serene smile, letting one of the others come forward with some clothes that seem to fit you perfectly. Once you're dressed, someone approaches to drape a delicate-looking charm depicting a long-horned creature with large wings on a thin chain over your neck. Ask around later, and you may find that it is a symbol of Vielehauffe, the God of the Herd.
The rough-looking man from before steps forward once you're decent and motions with his head outside of the stone circle. His speech is informal, his consonants harsh.
“Hold your horses, I can see all those questions coming about! Rowan March, at your service. I'm one of the council members of Solvunn. There's a lot to discuss, but it's best talked about over a hot meal.” He leads you to a horse-drawn carriage and helps you up into the back. He talks the entire ride to the settlement.
You find out you are in the Primary Settlement, the first of three that make up Solvunn's great territory. The settlement is situated between two lakes and is humming with life. You're brought to the center of town and escorted to an apartment above one of the establishments in town. Rowan explains that the living conditions are temporary if you'd like them to be, that local families would also be happy to host you in their home. That there are others like you who have also taken up residence within the three settlements. You're told that the world hangs upon the brink of disaster and that there are those in this world that are happy to see it fall to ruin with their meddling.
You're important. The gods have graced them with your presence. They're delighted you're here. Welcome to Solvunn.
Everything you need has been provided in this humble apartment, and if it hasn't, there are shops that line the streets and a marketplace in the center of town. Owners of some establishments or stalls are more than happy to give out samples or barter with your time for their goods. Babysitting can be a very lucrative business. You're told of the other settlements, that they'd like you to stay here for now, but if you can find a family to host you, the secondary and tertiary settlements are best to get to with an escort.
There are tales of travelers visiting the secondary settlement without invitation disappearing without a trace. The gods are as hungry as they are protective, young traveler.
You’ll find that there are more than enough activities to throw yourself into to better settle into your new life in Solvunn. Work is done in the first part of the day so that families can spend the rest of it together in leisure and work on their crafts - whatever those may be. For those children who are not of school age, they need nannies or storytellers, and there’s always a gaggle of them running about unsupervised. Families with livestock can always take a spare hand, especially since farms are so spread out, they have a tendency to wander. Whatever skills you may possess can always be of use to the community or to honor the gods.
If any of these options are no good for your lifestyle, the main roads between settlements can always use a bit of monster clean-up… just make sure you don’t go alone.
How many slots are open?
Please check the Taken page for how many player, franchise, and canon slots are available. Activity check will be processed before applications open, so the count may change between now and then. Existing players can apply for a second character without restriction.
How do I choose a scenario for my character?
Pick whichever situation appeals to you most. Which faction your character is drawn into has nothing to do with their personal morality, beliefs, or how highly they regard themselves and their own accomplishments. Anyone can be put into any one of the situations.
Can I try out more than one scenario?
You can! But please keep in mind that only the one you eventually choose can be game canon, if you decide to keep any of your TDM threads.
What happens if my character refuses to comply with the NPCs?
They will be forgiven for their moment of panic or anger if they have one, and the faction leaders will try to calm them and persuade them further. If they put up too much of a fight and/or start actively attacking anyone, they will be warned once that everyone is willing to put them back in the well where they came from (see below), and if they continue to fight they will make good on that promise.
My character intends on causing a lot of trouble (destroying parts of the cities, murdering the NPCs, etc.), what would happen to them?
Characters who make too much trouble for the mages and other NPCs would be thrown back in the well (which will mean drowning in the void, not returning home). Brawling with other PCs and causing minor damage is fine and will be greeted with a cranky attitude and intervention from various NPC guards, and there will be plenty of opportunity for destruction and murder later, but for now the Abraxans have no desire to keep huge liabilities around.
I want to wildcard a prompt or use one of the prompts from an earlier TDM that isn't on this one (eg. the library), can I do that?
Yes, in terms of the settings. As Thorne is no longer imprisoning any newcomers, that option is no longer applicable.
Is the power loss for characters permanent?
No, but it does take a week or so for their powers to be back in full, and certain powers (determined on a case-by-case basis) may require nerfs. If your character has world-breaking powers, please discuss with the mods what modifications may be necessary.
Can my character leave the bounds of the faction?
In Thorne, characters can leave the castle but not the city. In Cadens, they can take a trip from the outpost to the city. In Solvunn, they can explore the entirety of the Primary Settlement.
Can my character eventually change factions?
Yes. While the faction borders are currently closed, there will opportunities in the future for characters to relocate. For the time being, they are stuck where they are.
How much will my choice of scenario affect my character's plot later on?
This choice will determine where your character initially lives as well as the bias of the information they receive from NPCs (although other PCs can and most likely will give it to them a bit more straight). This decision - and every other major decision you make in game! - will also be used to flavor some mod surprises that will be coming down the line.
Don't get too anxious about this choice, though; this is just one choice you'll get to make in a game that has a lot of them, and every character in every scenario can work their way towards many, many individual goals and outcomes. You're not locking yourself out of anything in the future via the choice you made on the TDM. It will primarily impact the immediate future with the far-reaching effects being up to each player.
Are TDM threads mandatory for my application?
No, you may use other samples, but we encourage you to post to the TDM and get a feel for this game and its mechanics before you join. If you do not have a TDM thread you will still need to choose one of the three scenarios on your application.
What if I haven't settled on a sign yet?
You can ignore sign-related prompts if you're undecided (or try out different signs in different threads).
Can my character go to the Horizon?
First time visitors to the Horizon must be taken there by other characters, through either shared meditation or a physical journey to the Singularity, and all first-timers experience memory loss. For the purposes of the TDM, we suggest against using the Horizon.
What about making use of the network?
Much like Horizon they would need to be introduced to it by another PC, as no NPCs would be aware of the network or be able to access it. Because of this we would advise against using this mechanic for TDM top-levels.
Urianger Augurelt — FFXIV — Death — Thorne
north wing / communal bathing.
the dragon's keep.
the winking cauldron.
ooc.
north wing
That's...that's really the important part. He's got a lot of baths to make up for, okay?
That being said, Dante's newfound propensity for relaxing baths is often coupled with the nigh irresistible urge to nap during it. Which he often does for sometimes hours on end. An unfortunate sight for many other castle-dwellers to stumble in upon. But not for this Elezen, oh no.
That's because Dante has inexplicably slipped beneath the water's surface in his doze. The fact that he hasn't drowned or cooked alive is truly a miracle. As is the fact that his body suddenly registers that it hasn't been breathing properly for god knows how long and Dante suddenly sucks in a choked breath and bursts through the water's surface like Jaws in slow motion. ]
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( There was so much Urianger had tried to prepare himself for.
The possibility of being seen in the pool, for example, is something with which he's vaguely managed to make peace, for all he's doing his best to sink as low as possible and keep himself largely covered. The idea that he might slip and fall? Also taken into consideration, alongside the possibility of his clothes getting wet, his clothes getting stolen—
But nothing could have prepared him for a deep-sea Dante attack. )
Twelve forfend—!
( His kneejerk reaction is to jump to his feet and stagger backwards away from the potential threat — at which point he realises he's risen well above the waterline, every ilm of him visible from the mid-tight upwards, at which point he primotly drops back down with a graceless splash that sends water sloshing over the sides. Perhaps it's the heat of the water, his increased heart-rate, or simply the shock of being taken by surprise, but where he'd been a little pink with water?
There's now a deep, spreading flush making its way up his chest to his cheeks. )
Thou wert—
( But he has to take a moment to pinch the bridge of his nose between forefinger and thumb, because there's some severe headrush knocking around him and he's feeling suddenly dizzy with it all. When he looks up again there's a look of irritable incredulity pinching his brows above golden eyes: )
Thou wert lying in wait beneath the water?
( Just ... just give him a second, okay? Urianger quite suddenly crosses his arms over his chest as though remembering the reality of their situation, and draws his legs in closer towards himself beneath the water. )
I must assume thy goal was to liberate an innocent party not only of their wits, but of ten years of their life — in which case it will please thee to learn thy mission was a resounding success.
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--oh, hey. There's another guy here.
Who is, uh, looking like he's not sure where to sit his naked ass, apparently. Dante watches the man flit about like a bird trapped in a room as he catches his breath, unceremoniously digging his pinky into his left ear to try and remove some of the water and wax that has married without his blessing. ]
Calm down there, Hamlet. "Lying in wait" is a little presumptuous, don't you think?
[ Despite how chaotic his entrance is, Dante is remarkably calm standing there in the water, barely covering things that would send anyone with eyes running should he take a false step up. ]
There's no crime in catching a few Zs. Which, by the way, what time is it?
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( Hamlet? Presumptuous? Urianger watches with incredulity as the man settles into a comfortable stance and begins digging he water out of his ear, lobster-pink and soaked through as he is from his nap beneath the water. That he seems so at home in such a state of chaos is disconcerting, to say the least, and Urianger knows all too well that such men can prove themselves more resistant to reason than most.
It's an assumption, of course, and one about which he hopes to be proven wrong, but he nevertheless closes his eyes for an exasperated moment before releasing a wearied sigh. )
I cannot say for certain, however it was past the tenth bell of evening when I didst make my foray to these baths.
( Said dryly, as Urianger averts his gaze to a spot on the wall. He does, however, glance back after a moment to see that the man is showing no signs of covering himself up, and so he uncurls just enough to reach out and try and snag his towel against the tips of his fingers. )
Let me offer thee my towel, I prithee. 'Twould be most unfortunate for any misjudgement in thy gait to expose thy most private regions to all.
( "To all" only there's no-one else here, Urianger — however it becomes pretty obvious after a moment of fruitless grasping that the towel is just beyond his reach. This is not going well. )
north wing
Granted, when they're being cooped up like this, new topics of conversation are quick to run dry. Thancred and the other Summoned at least have the Horizon on hand to spice things up when needed, but for everyone else who lives here, he can't say he's surprised that they subsist on gossip.
Naturally he's curious to see who else has been brought in, but he suspects that he'll encounter most of them over the next few days, whether in the dining hall or the section of rooms dedicated to the Summoned.
Thancred certainly isn't suspecting to encounter anyone in the baths, especially not this late into the night. He steps inside with light footsteps, divested of all his clothing and with a towel neatly wrapped around his waist. He pauses when he realizes there's someone else here already, not at all bothered — he knows that these baths are meant to be shared. Yet as he steps closer and gets a proper look at the back of the person's head, or more accurately notices those ears, he stops in his tracks.
Could it be? Did he simply wander in on Urianger in the Castle Thorne baths? ]
Urianger?
[ Thancred presses forward then, bare feet moving over stone with every intention of joining his fellow Scion for a soak. Urianger might find the setting for a reunion to be an awkward one, but Thancred doesn't particularly want to wait for him to finish up. As the shock wears off, he's quick to shift back to his usual quipping ways. ]
Well. Fancy finding you here.
[ He's just missed Y'shtola. Almost as if one were swapped out for the other. But why? ]
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( There's a hint of movement in those pointed ears as Urianger registers his own name — just he barest lift, like some cornered creature who realises he's been discovered. What's even more startling than being recognised is the fact that he knows that voice; his stomach clenches tight with hope as he turns to towards the source, his brows high and his expression slack with surprise. )
... Thancred?
( Urianger finds himself beginning to rise from the water in his need to greet his dear friend — but he manages to catch himself before he gets too far. There's an awkward moment in which he hovers with one hand gripping the side of the stone tub, his torso half submerged beneath the water, and when he finally sinks back down it's with a hum of consideration. )
So, then. It appears that I am not alone in my travels — nor in mine other travails. Full glad am I to find mineself in thy company, my friend, albeit under circumstances one could only deem less than ideal.
( Whether he's talking about the fact that they've both been displaced from the Source (again) or the fact that they're essentially naked in a communal bathroom (first time) remains to be seen. Urianger gingerly moves around the edge of the tub in an effort to put as much distance between himself and Thancred as possible; he looks a little pinched around the mouth as he folds his arms over his chest and crosses one long leg over the other, evidently doing his very best to keep his unmentionables unmentionable.
... Perhaps the most ridiculous (or indeed, the most 'Urianger') part is that through it all, the Elezen is doing his very best to maintain an expression of solemn thought as he sits there covering his nips and looking anywhere but at Thancred's bare skin. )
Prithee, tell me, for how long hast thou come to reside in this place? I knew not of thy absence on Eorzea before mine own summons, nor did I dare to imagine that fortune might deposit me with my companions a second time.
( Not that it had been "fortune" last time, but they've already had that conversation (and received many profuse and heart-felt apologies) for the Exarch's bungled plan. )
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He doesn't hide his amused smile, however, as he gives a small shake of his head. Not that he should expect much different from a man who'd hidden under a hooded set of robes for so long.
While he suspects that Urianger has last seen him only recently, for Thancred it has been half a year. Which is nothing like the multiple years he'd spent in Norvrandt before the other Scions had trickled in, but it is nice to see such a good friend here. How many times has he wished for Urianger's presence, when it comes to researching magick and the like? Better not let on to that.
Thancred is kind enough to half turn away as he unwraps the towel, sets it down, and then steps into the warm bath. A small sigh escapes him as he settles down and he shuts his eyes for a moment — though when he opens them to see Urianger clear on the other side of the baths, awkwardly covering himself, he doesn't hold back a laugh. ]
I don't bite, you know. And here I thought you'd be relieved to see a good friend. [ Urianger has already said as much, but Thancred can't help the tease. ] I've been here for some six moons now. Even if time passes here, it does not pass on Etheirys. Himeka and I have sorted out that much.
[ Yes, she is also here, if not exactly here. There is much to explain, but at least they can be somewhere comfortable whilst he does so. Comfortable for him, in any case. ]
no subject
( Urianger opts not to deign Thancred's comment about biting worthy of a response as he looks away, instead choosing to focus on the revelation that he's apparently been in this place for six moons without his notice. While it doesn't yet compare to the time they spent on the First, it's enough that Urianger is surprised, but fortunately the man seems to have an explanation for that in the apparent lack of the passage of time.
... Something he's been able to figure out with Himeka.
Himeka. )
She is here?
( He seems to sit up a little straighter at that, as though half expecting her to walk through the door to the baths in need of his reserves of arcane knowledge. )
I see. And yet, thy languid posture and unconcerned visage would suggest that this is not the work of enemies we have known before and can move against — unless I am mistaken in mine interpretation of thy comfort?
( Thancred doesn't look stressed enough for this to be something he thinks might be intrinsically tied to Etheirys, its reflections, or their Warrior of Light. In truth? He's not sure what to do with the fact that he seems content to lounge in the tub after dropping such information on him — but then there's always the possibility that even though the circumstances are different, returning to their home will prove itself equally (or indeed, more) difficult.
A frown creases Urianger's brow as he leans back agains the edge of the bath, his posture loosening a little as thoughts of protecting his modesty are eclipsed by the whirr of other puzzles. )
Forgive me — there are many questions I would ask thee in relation to this place, and I know not where might prove the optimal starting point.
( A beat, as he taps his temple with a fingertip. )
... And yet start somewhere I must. Let us begin thus: mere moments ago thou didst claim that the passage of time in this place will not be felt upon Etheirys. How is it that Himeka and thyself were able to reach such a conclusion?
no subject
She is here, but not here. Within the castle, or even within this nation's borders. I do not know how much has been explained to you thus far, but there are two other nations who also perform these summonings.
[ If he knows Urianger at all, then there's a great deal he will have already learned in this short period of time. He is never one to stop working or to rest when there is a question tugging at his mind. And perhaps he doesn't mean anything by it — in fact, Thancred is almost certain that he doesn't — yet Urianger's remarks about his casual nature has him sitting up as well, posture straightening into something more alert despite the relaxing nature of their surroundings.
Yes, six moons have passed. Long enough for him to almost become comfortable here, and yet despite his demeanor, that is hardly the case. He is not in Thorne because he wants to be, though they'll get to that. The implication, unintended as it might be, that he should be more vigilant leaves him on edge. ]
This is not like aught we've dealt with before, no.
[ That terse response is all that comes out at first, though he does need to explain that they are not yet free of the Ascians either. Urianger asks a pertinent question, and true, they must start somewhere.
Thancred draws one knees up and clasps his hands around the front of it. ]
Because she remembers far less of recent events from home than I do. She hasn't yet experienced them. Y'shtola was... also here for a time, though she's recently vanished. You only just missed her. Worry not, as far as we understand she's been returned home. In any case, she had experienced slightly more than what I myself can recall.
[ Which leaves the question, asked silently as Thancred eyes him from across the baths. What is Urianger's last memory? ]
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( Urianger doesn't flinch from Thancred's abrupt response — he knows that tone well enough, after all — but it's does chastise him somewhat from letting his thoughts run away with themselves before he can word them with the most sensitivity. Perhaps he'll understand enough to chalk it up to the distruption of finding himself here: Urianger is yet to change gears, so to speak, and he might need a day or two to get caught up with himself again. )
'Twas not mine intent to cause thee any offence, Thancred. Pray accept my most sincere apologies for the carelessness of my words — 'tis no excuse for such poor behaviour, yet I must concede that this day hath been unusually trying in nature.
( His tone is softer this time, and warmed through in a way it hasn't been since his arrival. In a show of real contrition Urianger takes a moment to give the space between them a vaguely constipated look, before sliding along the stone of the seat until he's a little closer to where Thancred is sitting. If Himeka is here but not here — physically or temporally — and Y'shtola was here but left him to puzzle out Thorne alone ...
Well. Chances are his friend isn't feeling especially good at the moment, either. A little patience with one another might go a long way. )
I see. That is ... most concerning, if I am to speak plainly.
( And something around which he should tread carefully, lest he reveal more than he should about a future that has yet to come to pass for his friends. That unspoken question hangs heavy between tham as Urianger contemplates his words, before finally glancing up so that he might seek Thancred's gaze with his own. )
Doth thou hast any recognition of the name 'Meteion?'
( His expression is a picture-perfect portrayal of scholarly curiosity, skilled as he is in the art of decieving those nearest and dearest to him. While something in him shudders at the memory of waking on the Ragnarok with Thancred nowhere to be seen — unmade, by Meteion — he ensures none of that pain makes its way into his face. If Thancred doesn't yet know of his almost-fate, then Urianger will shield him from it as best he can. )
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There are many factors to consider in what they discuss, as well. Thancred will not be entirely open about the state of things in Thorne unless they are in the Horizon, understanding that it is far too easy for eavesdropping to take place here.
It is kind of Urianger to shift closer despite his discomfort. Thancred eases some of the tension out of his shoulders, a fond smile returning before long. Any tetchiness aside, he is extremely relieved to have such a good friend here.
Urianger makes the first move when it comes to comparing their memories, and of course he would choose that name, as the source of their most recent woes. A small, relieved breath escapes Thancred as he nods. ]
I do, though Himeka has not yet lived through the Final Days. I have told her some of what will come to pass, but not all. [ There's a pause and then he lowers his gaze, studying the gentle ripples in the water. ] The last I could recall was us reaching Ultima Thule, only for Meteion to appear aboard the Ragnaork to snatch the very air away from us. After I lost consciousness, I was here.
[ How disconcerting that had been, to not know whether or not he'd breathed his last. To not know for certain if they'd triumphed, though he'd believed in Himeka. Thankfully, that has been cleared up now. ]
When Y'shtola arrived, she did assure me that we were able to put a stop to her in the end.
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( Thancred isn't the only one who breathes a sigh of relief as recognition moves actoss his features, and Urianger finds himself suddenly, utterly relieved that they haven't found themselves here with too large a gap between them. Memories of the First — by the Gods, of Ryne — should be a warm, intact weight in both their hearts, and he can't bite back a small, curling smile as he nods his acknowledgement. )
Full glad am I to hear it. 'Tis distressing indeed to imagine thy memory unfurnished with recollections of dear Ryne, nor of the full gamut of adventures we hath together undertaken.
( It's a small victory, but a victory nonetheless, for all he's confirmed that his memories are indeed a little out of sync with Urianger's own. In many ways he's quite glad that Y'shtola has already brought him up to speed: not with everything, he imagines, but with the overall outcome of their time on Ultima Thule, and his own shoulers sag minutely as they're lifted of the weight of that particular responsibility. )
Aye, Y'shtola has the right of it. All is well in hand.
( It's all he's going to volunteer for the time being. Perhaps they'll cross the bridge of what happened when Thancred passed out at a later date, but to recount the moment he'd considered his dearest friend to be lost to him forever? Well. They should both be in their smalls for that, at the very least. )
Mine own final recollection is of a pledge to join thee on thy further explorations of the realm—
( Urianger lifts a hand from the water to make a vague gesture towards the baths, his lips curving into a wry smile. )
—yet it seemeth fate saw fit to intervene ere we came to an agreement as to our first destination.
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Himeka also has memories of Ryne. Of everything that took place on the First. As far as she can recall, we had been preparing for our trip to Sharlayan. Her first trip there, that is.
[ And a homecoming for the rest of them. That should grant Urianger a decent idea of what Himeka does and doesn't know.
Just as Y'shtola did not grant Thancred overly much in the way of details about their victory, Urianger is similarly vague. It almost makes him suspicious, but he also knows that there is far more they need to cover. They can come back to it.
When Urianger reveals his final memory, Thancred blinks in a brief moment of surprise. He does recall them making these plans back at The Last Stand, during that final meal before boarding the Ragnarok. Urianger seems to be offering confirmation that they will not be reneging on said plans. ]
Yes, it seems the mages of Thorne had something quite different in store for us. As you may have already gathered, they are not too eager to let us explore the lands as we please. [ His tone lowers into something more grim as he lets out a sigh, then draws a hand up to slide back through his hair. ] The borders around town have become even more closely guarded, as of late.
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( The shift of Thancred's body language is subtle enough that it imght go unnoticed by most, but Urianger is well-versed in his friend's subtle tells. He feels another pang of shame for the careless way he'd spoken to him earlier: it's now more than evident that he's ... tired, for wont of a better word, and working hard to make sense of his time in this place, and very possibly expending more of his energy than he rightly should be in order to make it work.
Urianger sighs. That has ever been Thancred's way, hasn't it? He makes a mental note to return the library before he retires for the evening; his powers may have waned since his arrival, yes, but there are natural recipes and remedies for teas that might invigorate the spirit, and Urianger would offer him whatever little comfort he can.
More immediately pressing to their conversation is the matter of Thorne's ... restrictions. Urianger's brow pinches into a frown as he considers that little sliver of information: he'd already considered their relative lack of freedom suspicious, but to know that the guard presence around the borders is on the increase is concerning to say the last. )
Aye, their restrictions hath not gone unnoticed.
( He replies, his gaze one of glazed contemplation. )
Dost thou hast any inclination as to why this might be? I hath yet to form an opinion of our ever-gracious hosts, but if it should come to light that we are akin to captives ...
( His focus sharpens again as he looks at Thancred. )
'Twould be a grave development indeed.
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Yet he understands there would be little point in spitting in the face of Ambrose and the other mages, if he wants to survive here. He needs to play his cards carefully — even if that is primarily Urianger's job.
When Urianger uses that word, captives, Thancred responds with a wry smile. They may as well be, and yet he knows that it could be worse. ]
We are at least granted comfort. When the summonings were first performed here in Thorne, some were deemed errors and tossed into the dungeons. [ His tone and expression are one of distaste, as he gaze shifts downward for a moment, indicating that the cells are somewhere below them. ] This was Himeka's fate, until certain benefactors saw fit to free those who'd been gaoled and grant them the choice of traveling to one of the two other factions: Solvunn, or the Free Cities. Himeka opted for the former.
[ Granted, that does not entirely answer Urianger's question. Thancred swishes one hand through the warm water and then lifts it up, allow droplets to trickle down his wrist and forearm. After a pause he glances over, staring unblinking into Urianger's awaiting eyes. ]
It seems more and more likely that Thorne and the Free Cities will soon enough be at war, and so the tightening of the border is in response to that as well. They would not be ill-prepared.
[ It is almost as if they anticipate a siege, and while it's possible that they are simply being abundantly cautious, Thancred will prepare for the worst. ]
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( A deep frown creases Urianger's brow as he considers the implication of Thancred's words: Himeka had been a captive in a place that would now beg their help and support, and it sits ill indeed to consider lending his aid to those who would drive her away. Still, the fact that Thancred has chosen to remain here instead of stealing away in the dead of night is certainly telling: either he can't, or he sees some benefit in stating within the walls of Thorne, and Urianger is glad to have found him before any impending chaos. )
And to think, mine attentions hath been occupied with the city's storied past. 'Twould do me well to learn of more recent events, that I might gain a better understanding of this impending conflict.
( Something for tomorrow, he thinks. It's possible Thancred already has an idea of where he might visit to best gauge the situation within Thorn; legitimate avenues, certainly, as well as slightly more underhand methods. Urianger knows well enough that there's something to be said for tavern gossip, and there are worse places he might begin such a search. )
I must also prioritise the practice of mine arcane arts, weakened as they are. I hath no love of war, as well thee know, yet I would not leave mineself unable to offer succor and aid to those in need.
( He lifts a hand of his own as he speaks, demonstrating the faint shimmer at his fingertips that speaks of what he could do had he his strength, his cards, and a planisphere. The connection is still there he just feels ... tired, as though he doesn't quite have the mental fortitude to weave even the most simple of spells, but if what the mages say is true the he should expect the return of his abilities relatively soon.
By the Gods, he hopes it is true.
There's a moment of comfortable silence before he speaks again: )
Art thou a fellow ward of Castle Thorne, or hast thou settled upon lodgings elsewhere? ( A beat. ) Assuming we are permitted to reside outside the castle should we chose to do so.
( Urianger is beginning to have his doubts. )
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[ Though even as Thancred says the words, he sends Urianger a knowing look. It won't be enough for Urianger to hear of it from them; he will want to track down every shred of information that he can find from every available source. This is simply his way, and it's not as if Thancred hasn't wished for it in the past moons. Research has never been his forte, and yet he has had little choice but to pick up the slack, as well as ally himself with Stephen and Yennefer.
Urianger will need to meet them as well, but all in due time.
Much like any mage who arrives here without their full set of spellwork at their fingertips, Urianger is perturbed by this predicament. There is plenty for them to concern themselves with here, but that thankfully needs not be one of them. ]
Worry not. [ Thancred gives a brief shake of his head. ] When they told you that your power would return in time, they did not lie. You will be able to manipulate aether ere long. [ There may be a few minor limitations, but Urianger's healing magick should all remain intact, and that is naturally his first priority.
The next question is an interesting one, and Thancred suspects that Urianger would like to relocate to a more private spot to continue their conversation. That is going to be a tad more complicated, however. ] All Summoned are provided with quarters within the castle at no cost, and so I have chosen to remain here for now. That being said, I am hardly opposed to the idea of moving into the castle town for a touch more privacy, once you are more settled.
[ Is that too bold? He thinks not. The two of them had discussed undertaking a lengthy trip together, and would have had to make do with any sleeping arrangements that were available to them. Thancred also spent more than a few nights at the Bookman's Shelves with Ryne in tow, when it had been necessary. If anything, finding a place together feels quite natural. ]
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The Winking Cauldron
He is dressed in casual clothing in shades of blue, nothing that marks him as unique by any means, the only real detail being the High Priestess symbol on his clothes. Tall and dark-haired, his eyes are an unusual shade of blue, standing out strongly against his light brown skin. He actually was still lingering in the bookstore when he saw Urianger leave, and when he spotted the sharp pointed ears, well, he couldn't help being intrigued.
After getting two history books, he heads out into the rain and while Istredd would hesitate to say he is following anyone, it is not exactly a coincidence when he finds himself in it. It's raining outside so the idea of having tea is well worth the visit, and when he sees Urianger quietly reading. He spots him across the room, it's busy in there, and he's never been a shy man.
Istredd holds his books close to his chest as he approaches the only empty seat which happens to be across from the man that got his attention.)
May I join you? I believe I've seen you in the castle.
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( Urianger is in half-way through a page of notes titled simply Death when a voice pulls him from his research, golden eyes lifting to the presence stood beside his secluded table. The books held in the man's arms suggest he's here on research himself, and for a moment Urianger finds himself transported back to his Sharlayan days, when scholars would wedge themselves into cafes alongside other strangers for the sake of a flat surface upon which to write.
These circumstances are markedly different, to be sure, but Urianger has never been one to begrudge a fellow researcher some space to do their work. )
Of course, if thou couldst give me but a moment—
( He pulls his book a little closer towards himself, then maneuveres his tea set so as to make a swathe of room for the man at the other side of the table. It's actually a relatively good opportunity to top up his tea again, and Urianger delicately holds the lid atop the pot as he pours into his cup. )
Thou hast noticed my presence in the castle?
( Curious. Unfortunately it's yet to occur to Urianger that standing at 6'7" with long, pointed ears might make him visually intriguing to some, nor that dressing in floor-length black and gold only adds to the potentially unusual look. )
The symbol of the High Priestess speaketh of Thorne's claim to thee. Mine arrival here was but recent; art thou a native of this land, or doth the circumstance of thy presence hold similarity to mine own?
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He waits patiently for Urianger to arrange his space to something more comfortable to him. While he has seen the very tall and unique-looking man before, he hasn't heard him talk, so Istredd is a little startled by that form of dialogue. He thinks the only time he has heard thees and thous is sometimes within literature or theater, so it takes a moment to adjust. Sometimes royalty does lean into the formal speech, so he wonders for a moment if that is what this man is, royalty.)
Your height does make you stand out. I haven't had a lot of experience with being towered over.
( He smiles faintly to go with that dry comment. Not that they have stood next to each other to have that towering, it's more that if they were to stand side to side, that would be the case. At 6'3, Istredd is not used to looking up to most people. He settles into a chair across from Urianger with his own tea, setting the books on his lap as he is not about to put them on the floor.)
I am one of the Summoned, I also just arrived. We must have done so around the same time. Depending on the amount of power it takes to successfully pull off the spell, it would make sense they cannot do it every day but in segments.
( Istredd has learned that they come in handfuls occasionally, and it makes sense. He is a mage himself; they create portals easily, but this requires far more than a portal to pull off.)
I'm Istredd.
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( That gets a soft huff of amusement from Urianger: )
In which case I shalt endeavour to keep any such towering to a minimum.
( But, moving on to the discussion of spellcraft. He seems interested by the fact that the man has slipped so easily into speculating about the power behind the magicks: it suggests he might have some background in the arcane arts, or at the very least that he's familiar enough with the concept that it isn't startling. Appropriate enough to chime in with a little rumination of his own, at the very least. )
Indeed. That Ambrose performeth his summonings with such regularity is a feat beyond mine imagining, to be sure, and one that it would be most valuable to study.
( Monthly is impressive enough, considering the number of people from the number of realms (not to mention the temporal displacement!) he's been drawing into Thorne. He sets the teapot down again as he meets those ice-blue eyes, bright enough that they almost seem to have a glow about them. )
Urianger Augurelt. 'Tis a pleasure to make thine acquaintance, Istredd.
( His gaze lowers to the man's book, and he gestures towards it with an elegant wave of the hand before reaching for his teacup. )
Might I enquire as to the nature of thy reading?
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( Istredd has only recently become aware of the fact their monoliths are conduits, and the portals between realms require the type of power no natural mage he knows of can do. For the man to do it frequently and with multiple people is somewhat alarming (and intriguing). He knows very little of Ambrose so far, and power such as that can be very dangerous in the hands of a stranger. )
I am skeptical he will allow us to study it, the risk would be high if any of us could duplicate it or attempt to.
( Needless to say, that is how Istredd would see it, if the positions were reversed. He was raised in the world of magic, while they all shared their knowledge and power, there were forbidden subjects like necromancy, something considered too powerful by many. Istredd is quick to keep secrets when it comes to listening to his gut. He suspects Ambrose is the same in that. )
A pleasure to meet you as well, Urianger.
( He shifts them in his lap and shows them, both historical texts, one of Thorne and one of Abraxas in general.)
I went for the history books. There are plenty in the official library, but sometimes you find inconsistencies when comparing multiple texts.
( He is something of an expert at finding inconsistencies and getting at the truths within historical context. Something that is usually appreciated by his mentor Stregobor, or bitterly despised when used against him. Istredd can tell he is in the presence of another academic, they have a way about them that is familiar. )
I am a historian and archaeologist in my world. Being a mage is almost secondary to those passions.
( Being a mage gives him the power and also the very long life that will help him reach his goals. So he appreciates his magic, it just is not his primary focus. )
What have you found of the arcana?
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( Urangier nods pensively. It would appear they have similar experiences regarding the movement of people across one's realm: Istredd speaks of portals the way Urianger would speak of teleportation, although whether his star is also heavily steeped in aether remains to be seen. What's telling, though, is the fact that this is a man who finds the idea of moving between worlds as serious as he does: a feat achieved only by the Ascian's incomparable power and the Crystal Exarch's imperfect spell-craft.
... And yet, it may be achievable. Whether Y'shtola's research into the matter bears fruit remains to be seen — Emet-Selch had seemed exasperated by the fact that none of them had plans to visit other worlds in the immediate future, and his encouragement of Himeka suggests that, by his understanding, it's something they could achieve with the proper knowledge. )
'Tis a manner of spellwork I hath witnessed but rarely ere my arrival in Castle Thorne, and in each case it required power the likes of which I hath yet to see replicated.
( Urianger sips at his tea, his brow lightly pinched in contemplation. )
... Yet I imagine thou hast the right of it. 'Twould be folly indeed for Ambrose and his associates to teach us the very means by which we might leave this place.
( Of course, that isn't enough to stop Urianger. All it means is that he'll have to work on that particular project alone, and that he'll have to resign himself to putting his skills at deception to use once more. Still, that line of thought is shelved when Istredd reveals himself to be both a historian and archaeologist — and a thorough one, at that. )
Ah, mine own interest lieth within the scholarly study of prophecy and divination magicks. The arcana of this place differs much from that of mine own star, yet there are practical similarities that may prove to be of great benefit to my work.
( He offers a thin smile. )
However, I must confess that mine immediate research pertaineth directly to myself. Thorne hath marked me under the arcanum of Death, and I am ... doubtful, that I hath been made privy to the full picture of its auspices.
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A less skilled mage could rip apart time and space in an effort to go home or bring others here if they prefer this world. They say the other factions found the same spell, it must be possible. I think it unwise to look for it, there are too many unknown variables.
( Istredd may be a skilled mage but he is not qualified enough to do this one, of that he is positive. He knows the dangers of magic users attempting spells over their heads and has seen the consequences. This is not his priority. He is a very level-headed man, not prone to making big choices without considering every angle first. If only he could say the same of others he knew. )
Divination, I see. And astromancy, I gather, from the reference to the star?
( It is always a relief to be able to talk in somewhat of a shorthand with people who know the same subjects, so it is as if jumping through faster hoops. Another magic user with similar skills and interests, it is far easier than trying to explain it piece by piece with someone else. Istredd is a fairly good teacher though, he is not impatient with others, but he likes talking with other scholars. It is not a frequent option; his brethren rarely follows his path.
Divination is something frequently taunt and experienced in the academy, although it was not his greatest strength. Istredd has not attempted to use it here, he wonders if it would translate. It took time to get back his strength, so he has been hesitant to push it. His eyebrows go up at that and he sips his tea thoughtfully.)
I suppose that could be an unnerving title at face value, but death is not always something to be feared. Perhaps it speaks more to thoughts on death as an inevitability and the pathway one takes to get there.
( It is somewhat easy to say for someone who is long-lived, who is still considered young in his 90s, but slow aging is not the same thing as immortality. He considers his mortality a natural endpoint, whenever it comes.)