Kahuna Burger
First Post
Julian: it was during the busy trade season of the fall when a man you had become friends with during your time in his town asked you for a favor. His daughter wanted to travel to the capital city of the adjoining kingdom to seek admittance to the mage school there, and he was concerned about her safety traveling on the riverboat which would be her best route. Without a clear plan of where you needed to go next, you were willing to undertake the journey.
The daughter, Ella, turned out to be a quiet and studious traveling companion, and you were able to spend much of your time observing the varied passengers and learning new things. It was during a chance conversation with one of the sailors who was discussing his many tattoos and the damage it caused when he gained any weight, that you showed him the one on your palm and as a result looked at it clearly yourself for the first time in a while. You were not surprised to see that some of the dots had changed position again, as that was something you had grown accustomed to. What did cause you to catch your breath was realizing that what you thought of as the 'main' dot - the one with connections to all the others - was the one which had changed most significantly and as a result was closer to another dot than it had ever been.
As the boat continued its swift journey, the main dot did as well, seeming to be moving almost straight towards the other dot. When you reached Ella's destination, you bid her farewell and continued on the river for three more days until you came to a port where you looked at your hand and saw the two dots almost merged into one.
Leaving the ship, you were at a loss of what to do. You felt very clearly that there was some destiny here for you, but did not know how to pursue it. Luckily, you found a place in need of your help - a pantheistic temple of healing and charity which was sadly understaffed and in disrepair due to the competitive nature of the religions in the area. You spent several days there lending your talents before making a radical decision. If your tattoo had brought you here, perhaps there was someone who would recognize your destiny if you advertised it more. You made up rough scetches of the dots and lines in their current configuration and placed them amoung the symbols onthe temple doors, as well as on the public notice boards where you wre rooming. Then you went back to the work at hand, which was hard but fullfilling, and hoped...
Orillian: Long ago in the mage college, you had tried to tell an elder friend that you had a magical tattoo, which slowly moved. He used one of the most simple magics that you had been taught and determined with a laugh that there was no 'aura' to it - it wasn't magical in the slightest. You confirmed this for yourself and suffered a time of doubt and confusion. A mundane tattoo could not move, and a magical one could be detected. It was much later in your studies that you learned that some items of great and ancient magic had no magical aura, but your tattoo did nothing that could be construed as deificly powerful - it just moved occasionally and very slowly and didn't go away. It was a mystery you found strangly easy to just accept and move on from, and you questioned it little during the rest of your schooling and adventures.
Some people say they know something like the backs of their hands, and perhaps its a good analogy, for in your administrative work, you found yourself often looking at you hand backs as they shuffled paper or filled in forms. Your palms you naturally saw much less frequently, and it was in the course of trimming your nails that you happened to notice the latest change in your tattoo. One of the dots had moved quite close to what you considered the 'hub'; the one dot attached to all others. It was very odd, you had never seen any two come so close to each other before. You took to glancing at your palm regularly after that, and within a week, the hub and the moved dot were practically one. While you had put the mystery of the tattoo out of your mind for many years, you felt instinctivly that this was of great significance and began doing what research you could, even pointing the new configuration out to Bollo and tellinghim to keep his eyes open. This last was something of a empty gesture, you thought, for Bollo was not going to be reading magical texts for you, but the results were surprising. Two weeks later, in the early morning, you were poked awake by a granite finger and a sheet of paper was pushed in your face. On it was a crude but accutate drawing of your tattoo's new design.
The daughter, Ella, turned out to be a quiet and studious traveling companion, and you were able to spend much of your time observing the varied passengers and learning new things. It was during a chance conversation with one of the sailors who was discussing his many tattoos and the damage it caused when he gained any weight, that you showed him the one on your palm and as a result looked at it clearly yourself for the first time in a while. You were not surprised to see that some of the dots had changed position again, as that was something you had grown accustomed to. What did cause you to catch your breath was realizing that what you thought of as the 'main' dot - the one with connections to all the others - was the one which had changed most significantly and as a result was closer to another dot than it had ever been.
As the boat continued its swift journey, the main dot did as well, seeming to be moving almost straight towards the other dot. When you reached Ella's destination, you bid her farewell and continued on the river for three more days until you came to a port where you looked at your hand and saw the two dots almost merged into one.
Leaving the ship, you were at a loss of what to do. You felt very clearly that there was some destiny here for you, but did not know how to pursue it. Luckily, you found a place in need of your help - a pantheistic temple of healing and charity which was sadly understaffed and in disrepair due to the competitive nature of the religions in the area. You spent several days there lending your talents before making a radical decision. If your tattoo had brought you here, perhaps there was someone who would recognize your destiny if you advertised it more. You made up rough scetches of the dots and lines in their current configuration and placed them amoung the symbols onthe temple doors, as well as on the public notice boards where you wre rooming. Then you went back to the work at hand, which was hard but fullfilling, and hoped...
Orillian: Long ago in the mage college, you had tried to tell an elder friend that you had a magical tattoo, which slowly moved. He used one of the most simple magics that you had been taught and determined with a laugh that there was no 'aura' to it - it wasn't magical in the slightest. You confirmed this for yourself and suffered a time of doubt and confusion. A mundane tattoo could not move, and a magical one could be detected. It was much later in your studies that you learned that some items of great and ancient magic had no magical aura, but your tattoo did nothing that could be construed as deificly powerful - it just moved occasionally and very slowly and didn't go away. It was a mystery you found strangly easy to just accept and move on from, and you questioned it little during the rest of your schooling and adventures.
Some people say they know something like the backs of their hands, and perhaps its a good analogy, for in your administrative work, you found yourself often looking at you hand backs as they shuffled paper or filled in forms. Your palms you naturally saw much less frequently, and it was in the course of trimming your nails that you happened to notice the latest change in your tattoo. One of the dots had moved quite close to what you considered the 'hub'; the one dot attached to all others. It was very odd, you had never seen any two come so close to each other before. You took to glancing at your palm regularly after that, and within a week, the hub and the moved dot were practically one. While you had put the mystery of the tattoo out of your mind for many years, you felt instinctivly that this was of great significance and began doing what research you could, even pointing the new configuration out to Bollo and tellinghim to keep his eyes open. This last was something of a empty gesture, you thought, for Bollo was not going to be reading magical texts for you, but the results were surprising. Two weeks later, in the early morning, you were poked awake by a granite finger and a sheet of paper was pushed in your face. On it was a crude but accutate drawing of your tattoo's new design.
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