Solarious said:
Pish! You are simply unable to encompass your mind around the grand plan that is shilsen. Your madness is proof of your inability to comprehend his benevolent grace that he bestows upon you. Be comforted in your lack of sanity, and tremble in fear at shilsen's terrible mercy.
That's pretty much what the grading policy section on my syllabi says
I wonder what they would say if they knew how much of a geek you are. Of course, you're an English professor, so a degree of geekness is expected, but we are talking about DnD here, the writing of a storyhour, and the subsequent posting of it. It's quite a different order of magnitude, I'm sure you'll agree.
Actually, my students know exactly how much of a geek I am. When I introduce myself on the first day and tell them a little about myself, I mention that I'm a card-carrying geek whose idea of interacting with society is running a D&D game. And if that doesn't convince them, I actually carry my D&D dice in my briefcase and use it in class when I am randomly picking students for certain things. Incidentally, the students seem to love the various dice and argue with each other for the right to roll.
I am Geek. Hear me roar!
Same here. I wonder exactly how many people have been affected by Sep's fabulous writing, his fabulous world/campaign creation, and his equally fabulous players. I'm a fan of Nwm, personally. Considering the number of druids present, I guess some of you guys are too. Especially considering Luna is like a Mirror Universe equivilent of Nwm.
As Rackhir mentioned above, interestingly enough Nwm has absolutely no effect on the druids in this game. But Mostin makes up for it by living with us in Nameless. Speaking of whom...
* * * * * * * * * *
The Return of Nameless
Having searched the rooms around the central area, the Angels discuss what they should do next. Korm mentions uneasily that he is not feeling particularly well, and Luna says the same. “This entire place must be tainted by whatever diseases he had,” says the Gatekeeper, pointing at Cainan’s corpse, “And whatever he was culturing in those boxes and jars. We need to destroy them.”
“But,” protests Gareth, “They’re quite valuable. These are Dhakaani, right?” Luna nods.
“Probably,” shrugs Korm, beginning to collect the various items, “But it doesn’t matter. They will retain the taint. We need to destroy them all.”
One of the group’s regular arguments occurs, with Gareth wishing to clean out the various receptacles, and maybe even take some samples of the contents to show the Archierophant, with some support from Luna, while Korm is equally adamant that absolutely nothing should be removed from these chambers, with support from Six.
“Come on, Gareth!” says Korm, exasperated. “This bastard already created a plague and he’s got better at it, according to those notes and scrawlings. If we carry them with us, we run the risk of infecting Sharn all over again.”
“Well,” begins Luna a trifle grumpily, “There
are a lot of people in the city…,” causing Six to emit a metallic laugh. “This is why people say you are insane, Luna.”
Korm ignores her and continues, “Seriously, Gareth – what are you thinking? You’ve been trained to know about mundane and magical diseases, right?” Gareth says nothing to the mostly rhetorical question and then mutters, “Not really.”
“Come again?”
“I haven’t actually been
trained regarding diseases.”
“Aargh!” Korm slaps his forehead in exasperation. “You and your damn home schooling!” He points at Luna. “Come on – at least you know better. Admit it. Wouldn’t we be very likely to infect the city? Even if we
remove disease, carrying those jars and things, even without their contents, would very likely do so. Right?” Luna scowls but finally mutters an agreement.
“See? Then it’s settled.” Korm spends the next few minutes throwing all of the jars into one of the now-empty pools, with Six’s aid. Having done so, he collects the two magical nodules from Gareth – after another, thankfully shorter, argument – and crushes them and throws the pieces in. Then he turns and looks at the four individuals, the pair each of humans and bugbears, who are still alive. “We need to dispose of them too.”
“We can take them back to the Archierophant and see if she can help them,” suggests Gareth, leaving Korm shaking his head. “What part of disease … carry … infect … plague … double plus ungood … do you
not get, Gareth?” he asks. Then he walks over and points to one of the bugbears, who hangs, unconscious and unaware of everything that has occurred around him, in his cocoon. “Look at this.”
The glutinous strands of the thick webbing that forms the cocoon have extended into the flesh of the bugbear within it, Wherever they enter and emerge, the flesh around them has turned soft and green, ranging in texture from that of soft, rotten meat to a jellylike consistency which matches that found on many of the Angels’ late opponents. “And who knows how far it’s gone?” continues Korm, indicating the bottom half of the creature, which is completely hidden within the lower, thicker, part of the cocoon. “It’s too late for them. All we can do is release them from this torment – and do so before they awake into it.”
None of the others have any real argument, as Korm draws his sword. He waits for a moment and then swiftly decapitates the bugbear. The body twitches for a moment, a mixture of blood mixed with slime gushing from the stump of its neck, and then falls quiescent. One by one, Korm does the same to the others.
Then, with the others, he removes the cocoons, discovering that he was right about the process being further advanced in the hidden sections of their bodies, some of the creatures’ extremities having been partly through the process of being turned into tentacles. The Angels place the corpses in the pool along with the other items, and then Korm douses everything within liberally with oil, before he and Luna
flame strike them repeatedly and incinerate everything. “Good.” Korm says, “We’re going to have to stay here till tomorrow, when we can all have a
remove disease cast on us, and then head back.”
The night passes uneventfully, and next morning, the Angels leave the caves. Once they are outside, Luna summons a pair of large earth elementals and instructs them to carefully collapse the entire area within. As the elementals rumble their agreement and begin to move off, Six says, “Umm – you’d better tell them to be careful to just fill in those tunnels and not damage the cliffs. After all…..” He points upwards at the top of the cliff thousands of feet above, where the towers of Sharn stand. Luna hurriedly calls the elementals back and adds some instructions.
Having ensured that they will not run any risk of collapsing part of Sharn, the Angels proceed back to the Gray House, stopping only to accept the fervent thanks of the indigents that live around the Mud Caves.
* * * * * *
A few hours later, the Angels are gathered around Nameless’ corpse, carefully laid out in the chamber they have set aside for spellcasting in the Gray House. Next to it lie a collection of rare and costly components, mingled with moss, leaves and branches to form a roughly humanoid shape a foot long.
“All right,” says Luna, with an expression of slightly unhealthy anticipation. “Let’s do this.” As she is about to begin casting the dweomer, Korm interrupts. “Umm, actually, I should be the one casting it.”
“Huh? Why?”
“Well, Nameless did say that he’d rather I be the one to try and
reincarnate him if he was killed, remember?”
“What? I don’t remember that! And even if he did, we’ve said lots of things at different times.”
Six reaches into one of his many pouches and pulls out a scroll. He unrolls and looks at it, and then says, “Korm’s right. Nameless did say that. I noted down what everyone said at various points, and even got everyone to sign it to ensure they were certain about it.”
“What?!” Luna jumps up and grabs the scroll from Six, partly tearing it in the process. “I never signed this crap!”
“True, but that’s because when I asked you to do so, you told me I’m crazy if I think anything will ever be able to kill you.”
“Which is true!”
“I wouldn’t be that sure,” says Gareth, who’s been grinning from ear to ear at the exchange. “You get beat down a lot!”
“That’s because I’m trying to save all your asses!” Luna’s attention snaps back to the scroll, which she waves around wildly. “This is just stupid. Why would Nameless want Korm to cast the spell?”
Korm, who’s also grinning broadly by this point, says, “Maybe he thinks you’re a little … unreliable?” He points, and this time there’s a little edge to the smile. “You do wear those symbionts, which doesn’t say much for your judgment.”
“Symbionts? Nameless eats freaking tentacles! What the hell’s wrong with my symbionts?!” Before Korm can reply, Luna continues with her rant, no longer addressing anyone else, seemingly rather shouting at the missing soul of Nameless and his, to her, horribly misplaced taste in druids. “Why Korm? It’s not as if he’s a better spellcaster than me. And I beat his ass in the arena!”
“What does that have to do with casting
reincarnate?” asks Six.
“Nothing! But I’m just saying!” Luna throws down the scroll in disgust, stalks over to the wall and kicks an unoffending desk halfway across the room. “Fine! You morons can do what you want! I’ll sit here and be useless and save you all if something goes wrong.” She wildshapes into a bear and sits down with a growl.
The other Angels, fighting to keep from rolling over with laughter, sit down too. Korm prepares himself and begins to cast the spell. Throughout the spellcasting, Luna mutters to herself under her breath and sighs loudly, once in a while gesturing at the scene before her. Since the muttering and sighing is from an 8,000 lb bear, it’s significantly distracting, but Korm ignores it, focusing on the task at hand. As he goes through the various gestures and incantations, over the course of the next ten minutes, the pile of vegetation begins to expand and take on a roughly humanoid shape, stretching till its over six feet long. Part detaches and forms into what seems to be a tail, another three feet in length. Slowly, skin begins to form over the surface. At the same time, Nameless’ corpse begins to fall in on itself and decay, gradually forming an unrecognizable and steadily shrinking mass.
“Six,” Gareth says quietly, “Those are scales, right? Are you thinking what I am?”
“Yes,” agrees Six. “Definitely scales. I think he is coming back as a lizardman.”
Luna grunts and makes an expressive series of gesture, which indicates that nothing like this would have happened if they had allowed her to cast the spell, that Nameless is an idiot, and that there are certain issues with Korm’s parentage.
Finally, Korm ends the spell. As he does so, with a wordless sighing of air, the last fragments of Nameless’ original form fade away into nothingness. Next to the space they occupied now lies the complete form of a lizardman, clawed hands interlaced over his broadly muscled chest, a thick tail stretching away to the left. As Korm pronounces the last syllable and makes the final gesture, the lizardman’s chest rises with an indrawn breath. A second later, his eyes open and look into those of Luna, who, despite her irritation, has risen and lumbered forward to look down at it. As a look of confusion swims into his eyes, Luna wonders to herself how Nameless will adapt to this new body and what his reaction will be.
The answer is instantly forthcoming. The lizardman opens his mouth, screams, and then arches his back, convulsing and thrashing as if in excruciating pain. Splits appear in the skin all across his body and blood streams out, as he rolls back and forth.
* * * * * *
Nameless opens his eyes, but all he sees is darkness. Everything around him is pitch-black, and he realizes that something surrounds him. He feels something warm and slick in contact with every inch of his body, but cannot see what it is. More importantly, whatever it is happens to also be pressed tight against his mouth and nostrils, allowing him to space to breathe. Reflexively, the alienist opens his mouth to try and
teleport himself away, and a lump of what feels like meat, covered in what is certainly blood, slides into his mouth, filling it completely. Nameless begins to choke and suffocate at once, his body thrashing in a desperate attempt to break free.
* * * * * *
While the other Angels, surprised and horrified, try to rise and rush forward, Luna quickly leans over and extends a huge paw to both try and hold the lizardman down and cast a healing spell. Her eyes look into his for a moment, as they bulge in pained terror from their sockets. And then they hit her. As they, and the rest of his face, leap off his body, as does the rest of his skin, and everything underneath it. Flesh, blood, bones and viscera spray across the room as the lizardman explodes.
And emerging from within the body is the naked, bloodied form of Nameless, convulsing as the lizardman had. His eyes, still bearing the blue glow of the permanencied
arcane sight roll back and forth at his shocked friends, and, after dragging in a breath, he sits up.
Once their first surprise has passed, the rest of the Angels note that not everything is the same about the alienist. The skin of his chest rises in multiple places into greenish-yellow protuberances, each about two inches tall and an inch thick, forming a roughly shaped ring that stretches nearly a foot in length and half that in width. A bigger change lies at the end of his left arm. Nameless’ entire forearm is missing. Instead, starting just above the now missing elbow, there grows a flexible tentacle, approximately as long as his forearm had been. It is flat and has a clear top and bottom, the former a bright green, with darker shades forming whorls and patterns on it, while the underside is a much lighter gray. A row of thick suckers runs up the middle of the underside, and as the tentacle flexes, almost as if it had a life of its own, the suckers open and close with a soft, but nauseatingly, slurping sound.
Noticing the change, Nameless looks down at the arm and raises it. Though it takes a couple of seconds, he quickly finds himself able to control the movements of the prehensile limb. A pleased smile crosses his face. The rest of his companions, however, are not smiling. “Are you okay?” asks Korm. Luna, quickly having changed back to shifter form, interrupts. “You!” she says, pointing accusingly at the Gatekeeper, “This is all your fault! You brought him back wrong!”
Before Korm can respond, she turns to Nameless. “And you! You know how reliable I am, but would you let me
reincarnate you?” She shakes her head violently and puts on a strange, squeaky voice, “Nooooo! You just had to have your girlfriend Korm bring you back! And now you’re all screwed up! Bah!”
Nameless stares at her and then says, “What the hell are you talking about? And I’m not screwed up, thank you.” He looks at his tentacle and smiles again. “I feel a little weak, but that’s to be expected. I’m fine. Better than fine.”
After giving Nameless a blanket to wrap around himself and getting him to a seat, the others quickly begin to ask questions about what happened. “How was Dolurrh?” asks Korm. “I’ve heard it’s extremely depressing.”
“No clue,” says Nameless, with a proud smirk. “I never went there.”
“Huh? Where’d you go?”
“Xoriat.”
“Come again? Nobody can get to Xoriat. And definitely not when they’re dead.”
“That’s true. For most people.”
“O-kay. What did you see there?”
“I don’t think I could put it into words you, any of you, will understand,” says Nameless dismissively. “It’s a little beyond your reality. And utterly fascinating!” As he is speaking, Nameless looks down at himself and his
arcane sight picks up an aura that he never had on him before. It is right in the middle of his chest, and actually emanates from deep within him. “That’s odd,” he mutters, touching the spot.
“What?” says Gareth, looking at the same spot. As he does so, he feels a gentle warmth within himself and suddenly realizes that his ability to
detect evil has returned to him – and switched on, even though he wasn’t trying to. And he
detects a moderate evil aura from the area in the center of Nameless’ chest, though not from the alienist himself. Gareth points accusingly. “That’s evil.”
“Nameless?” asks Korm, surprised.
“No, not Nameless,” says Gareth, just a little reluctantly, “That spot in the middle of his chest.”
“It’s nice to see your blinkered, short-sighted, narrow-minded outlook on things hasn’t changed, Gareth,” says Nameless sweetly. “I don’t know – or care – about that, but it’s a strong magical aura. Conjuration. I’ll check what it is when I can cast an
analyze dweomer.”
“I’d say that I could try to
dispel it,” says the still grousing Luna, half to herself, “But he probably just wants
Korm to do it.”
“Oh, come on!” says Korm, smacking his head, “Just let it go, Luna!”
“What’s going on between you two?” asks Nameless, but Six interrupts. “Excuse me. I’m not a spellcaster like you folks, but I did see Luna
reincarnate Saala in the Marches. I don’t think these should still be here, right?”
The others look where he is pointing and see, right where the lizardman’s body – and then Nameless – had appeared, a collection of objects sitting on the floor. They are the various oils, unguents and other material components that had been used for the
reincarnate spell. Or should have been used. Korm walks over and confirms what the Angels can already see. All of the components are completely intact, only slightly more scattered than they’d originally been, as if they had never been used at all. “Okay,” he says quietly, “So we
reincarnated Nameless to bring him back from the dead, but didn’t actually use the spell to do so? This can’t be good.”
Luna, who has headed to the door, turns around and says triumphantly, “Of course! That’s because
you cast the damn spell!”
Is he a gnome yet?
![:]](http://www.enworld.org/forum/images/smilies/devious.png "Devious :]")
