Voting window will be 15 minutes long, and writing will take somewhere around 15-20.

>>2016092
>You’ll clean up the mess you’ve made; you need to be proper.

Writing

“Clean up,” you say.

Pyri lets out something that resembles a sigh. “Let me help.” They fly over to one of the fallen books, awkwardly trying to grapple something that’s two-thirds the size of them. The attempt fails, to no one’s surprise.

“It’s fine, I’ll be quick.” You look at the book in front of your desk—the third volume of Ryletley’s Journals—and you quickly pick it up carefully, eternally thankful that you didn’t drool on it. “...I folded one of the pages!” you cry.

“It could be worse.”

“No it can’t!” You desperately try to somehow erase the crease. “...I’ll have to use a spell to undo this.” While you put it off to the side, you start sliding various tomes into your small shelf, arranging it alphabetically until it’s almost filled.

The handful that are left, you decide, should be brought back.

You grab the satchel hanging off your chair and bring it over your head, letting it settle on your left shoulder. You open the door and leave with your books, stepping foot onto the balcony. The open sky greets you first, and past the ornate wooden railing, a long stretch of green canopy extends endlessly in all directions. Living in a giant tree does have its perks.

“...Circe.”

You stop and turn your head. “What is it?”

“I’ll go check the post.”

“Why?” It’s an hour’s flight away, and it hasn’t been a week. Why would Pyri... oh. You try to fight the sly smile appearing on your face. “Okay. Safe travels.”

They chirp, and take off, slowly disappearing while you get on the rectangular platform at one end of the balcony. On one of the sides of the railing, a large device composed of two intersecting circles awaits—half a spell circle on one and completing multiple halves on the other. The latter is spun, and the ground beneath you starts to lower. Underneath the platform, the twisting wood recedes back into the tree and earth, bringing you to your destination.

[1/2]

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>>2016198
Far off in the distance, the forest shakes. Countless birds fly off from there, fleeing.

It looks like it’s close to where Bassy lives.

You pay no heed to it. In all likelihood, she’s probably playing around. Or she caught someone. But if she caught someone, that would probably mean they’re already dead.

You frown, noting that you are not in the mood for any dead bodies today. Today will be a body-free day, you declare! If there’s a dead body, the animals can have it!

The lowering platform eventually stops, letting you onto yet another balcony, this one leading to the library. It’s a very, very long, slightly curved room with books packed on either wall, all neatly and categorially organized to perfection!

You take a deep breath, and you start putting the books back.

Until there’s another shudder.

Freeing your hands, you set down what you were carrying onto a table.

...Does Bassy have a present for you too?

You smile at the idea that she could remember your birthday, or know what a birthday is.

>Check up on Bassy.
>Draw up a very important spell circle to un-crease your book.
>Go to the observatory.
>Write-in.

>>2016234
>>Draw up a very important spell circle to un-crease your book.

>>2016234
>Draw up a very important spell circle to un-crease your book.
VERY IMPORTANT

>>2016234
>>Check up on Bassy.

Writing

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In all likelihood, there is no present waiting for you. Withdrawing back into the library, you are welcomed by the warm world of ink, paper, and sap.

You have a very important spell circle to draw. Searching around, you find a blank spell sheet lying on a table in the study, a smaller room deeper in the library. It’s simply a blank sheet, made with the wood of the great tree—that you humbly thank for its blessings—and grab a quill and a bottle of ink.

Lines and curves arc across the paper, trails of ink laid down and forming the circle. The language of the Eidola is beautiful; each black stain on the canvas is a letter, each stroke is a sentence, and each spell is a story. Atop it, you lower the Journal. Through the lightly imbued aether in the spell sheet, you call upon the gods above to grant you a miracle to end all miracles.

Please unfold the page of this book.

The ink glows brightly for a fraction of a second, the aether inside disappearing as the Journal flies open to the folded page. Slowly, it unfolds itself, the crease line disappearing as if it never happened. As soon as it’s done, you quickly tear the spell sheet, interrupting the spell before the book turns into a tree. That would be a tragedy in its own right.

You hug the now perfectly restored book. Oh how could you ever think of desecrating Ryletley’s beautiful scripts?

A sudden voice makes you jump. “Circe! Are you fine?” It’s Pyri.

“You’re back!” you try to calm down. “That was really fast.”

“I stopped and turned back when I almost got hit.” They ruffle their feathers. “If you’re okay, then that’s fine.”

“What’s going on?” you say. You hurriedly look around, grabbing a handful of blank spell sheets and stuffing them into your satchel.

“There’s an arcanist down there, throwing spells.”

You freeze. “...Say that again?”

“There’s an arcanist...”

Their voice fades out as you break into a cold sweat. Someone’s in the forest. You saw where canopy had shuddered. It was far away from the edge. How did they get past the edge in the first place? You clamp your teeth down while you try your best to not panic.

It does not work.

“They’re coming to eat me!”

“They’re not going to eat you.”

“Of course, they are, why else would they be coming here?”

“Do you honestly thing someone would walk in to eat you? There are plenty of humans outside.”

“I’m not human!” you cry out.

“Circe!” Pyri shouts.

You stop trembling. You bite down on your lip, trying to regain composure. “...Sorry.”

“...Take a break, okay? I’ll handle it.”

You uneasily look at the owl.

>"I can’t let you go alone. You might get hurt.”
>”I’ll go with you. Maybe we can talk.”
>”...Safe travels.”
>”Please don’t go. If they’re coming here, let them.”
>Write-in.

>>2016343
>>”I’ll go with you. Maybe we can talk.”

>>2016343
>I can’t let you go alone

>>2016343
>>”I’ll go with you. Maybe we can talk.”

>>2016343
>"I can’t let you go alone. You might get hurt.”

I don't think this was clear but >"I can’t let you go alone. You might get hurt.” implies fighting.
That was poor word choice on my part. I'll roll for tiebreaker in a few if there isn't last minute changes

Rolled 2 (1d2)

1=Talk
2=Talk with violence

Writing

>>2016425
Ah, I didn’t really interpret my choice that way. I’d rather avoid fighting.

"I can’t let you go alone. You might get hurt.”

“If that’s what you wish.” Pyri flaps their wings and lands back on your right shoulder.

You get on the elevator platform and switch the other half of the semicircle with the ground floor. As you descend, you feel your stomach twisting into knots. You’re not ready to talk to another person. You want to read about others in the safety of being behind a book. It’s been decades, but you’re still not ready. You will never be ready.

Nevertheless, you take a deep breath, and your face is washed of the nervousness. You need to be proper, even if you don’t feel that way. If someone has gone all the way to see you, then you need to greet them properly.

The forest top disappears, the world below now engulfing you. The platform stops, leading a path forward onto a carved staircase. Around you, humongous twisting roots rise and fall from the trunk of the tree like tsunamis, pushing back the terrain. A few trees rise up from gaps, desperate to cover ever last square inch of the ground.

You walk down, stopping at a large space where half of it consists of a large recess in the trunk, forming a space where a worn statue stands. In the center of it is someone standing still, their eyes widened at your appearance. Messy blond hair is hidden by a black hood, the rest of his body guarded by misfit plates of armor. He takes a step back.

You almost do the same, but you stay where you are.

“Welcome to my home. I’d like to inform you that you’re trespassing.” Is this right? How well did that go? Nervousness, anxiety, and a tinge of excitement fills you.

The trespasser awkwardly draws the sword on the left side of his hip with his left hand, making you notice that his right arm has been complete transformed into stone. “L...Let me pass. I need to find something.”

“Inside my home?”

“...You don’t live here, how can you live in a place like this?!”

“...” You’re shaking. That one cut deep.

“M-move!”

“No.”

He rushes forward, closing the distance.

Pyri takes off.

You’re shaking.

>Gale; blow him back.
>Firebomb; render him unable to fight.
>Freeze; stop him in his tracks.

>>2016465
>>Freeze; stop him in his tracks.

>>2016465
>Freeze; stop him in his tracks.

>>2016454
>>Freeze; stop him in his tracks.

>>2016465
>>Freeze; stop him in his tracks.

>>2016518
Roll 1d10
DC: 12

>Rolling will be done as a sum of 3. Different spells require different die and modifiers.
>Freeze gives you a +2 bonus to the total.
>Success is done an a sliding scale. DC is considered half success/fail.

Rolled 2 (1d10)

>>2016522

>>2016474
>>2016476
>>2016477
>>2016503

>>2016522
How did I fuck up this hard

Rolled 5 (1d10)

>>2016522

Rolled 1 (1d10)

>>2016522
Freeze, asshole!

Rolled 9 (1d10)

>>2016522
Rolling to freeze this dude

>>2016526
>>2016535
>>2016537
8 + 2 = 10
Light failure

Writing

>>2016546
How badly do we have to fuck up to get past light failure?

>>2016558
8 would have been plain failure, 5 would've been critical.

>>2016565
>>2016565
Okay cool. So would a sum of 16 be plain success, and 19 would be like a critical success? Seems like a neat system.

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You back away and reach inside your satchel, feeling for where the pin always is. With your left hand, you pull a spell sheet, and with your right hand, you jam your finger into the steel.

Blood dots the paper as you draw across, forcing your life into it. A circle and glyphs—you don’t know how create ice with a circle, but you can do it with a glyph.
Soon, it’s done! You raise the paper, and the spell calls.

The different sizes of the armor and the petrified arm slows down the young man, but it’s not enough. In a single thrust, the sword leaps through the paper and almost into an eye, but he stops at the last moment. With a quick swing, he tears it out of your hands and interrupts the spell.

You stagger back, fear in your eyes. Through the blond hair, you see the determination in his. He has something to die for. It’s just a moment that you think how cruel it was for you to die here. That the first person you’ve met again would be the one to do the deed, that the only thing that would save you from this loneliness—

Pyri sweeps down, knocking the trespasser back. He swings his sword in retaliation but only hits air.

“Circe!” Pyri says as he disappears behind the surrounding trees. You’re already running, heading to the elevator. Quickly, you spin the semicircle, heading for the highest point possible: the observatory.

The man catches up as you’re two stories above him, the distance growing further. He puts his sword down and reaches behind him, grappling for something on his belt. You quickly find out what.

He unravels the spell sheet. At this distance you can’t see it, but you didn’t need to. He shows you exactly what it does; the ground beneath him is sprayed with a breath of wind, the breeze swirling in a fierce tornado. It lifts him up into the air, and you reach into your bag in a panic. You pull out a single prepared sheet, a last-ditch measure that was meant to be used in the event the platform failed.

He drops onto the platform, a few paces away from you.

You say, “Don’t move. I’ll send us both down.” You raise the spell, so obfuscated that he wouldn’t possibly make it out even if he could read it.

“Please.” He’s panting, sweat running down his face from pain. He raises his single good hand. “Look, I left my sword down there.”

>Call for Pyri.
>Bring the platform back down.
>Use the spell anyways.
>Hear him out.
>Write-in.

>>2016623
>>Hear him out.

>>2016604
Pretty much.

>>2016623
>Hear him out.

Writing

The wind behind him dies, disappearing as fast as it arrived.

“I’ll hear you out,” you say, “Don’t think of doing anything.”

He stares at you, wincing. He sighs after a second. “Can you give me a second? You can have my weapons.” Grabbing his belt, he unbuckles it and shows it to you. A dagger, an elixir, and two more spell sheets are there. He lays it down on the ground and kicks it over to you. “There.”

From a distance, you see Pyri watching you two. After a long pause in consideration, you reach down and grab it. “...Why?”

“I have a good feeling I was screwed either way, so...” he says. His legs buckle, and he falls to the side onto the platform railing. “Solaria damned, we’re going really high.”

“...Yeah.” You turn around and stop the platform just as you reach at a floor; you’re not sure where else to go, but the recess and balcony here is massive. “Come, we can talk in here” you say, urging him in.

You guide him to the dining hall, helping him onto a seat when you realize he was having a hard time walking. The room is humble and small, perfect for two. When he gets to the chair, he drops down with all of his weight in an instant, almost breaking it.

He coughs. “Sorry.”

[1/2]

>>2016784
You stand from a small distance, arms crossed and waiting for his story. The desperation-sheet is still being squeezed in a hand. When he doesn’t say anything, you wonder if you made some kind of misstep.

When you had enough, “...I’m Circe.”

He looks at you, then he averts his eyes. After a moment, he answers, “I’m Aledt. Thanks for not killing me and all that. I’m looking for an artifact,” he says. He looks around the room. “But if you live here, then it means it’s probably yours. Guess I came all this way for nothing.” He grimaces.

“An artifact?” you say. What an incredibly vague word.

“I don’t know what I’m looking for,” he says, “I was told I’ll know it when I find it.”

You’re filled with incredulity; how in aether could someone make their way in a manner like this? Had someone led him in some wild chase? If you don’t know what he’s looking for... “Then, why are you looking for it?”

“To... save someone.”

“...What?” What is he saying? He came all this way to the middle of nowhere to save someone? Does he think he’s in some kind of wild tale? Then again, he might be actually telling the truth, seeing as how he’s right here. He’s here. You realize there is a person in front of you. In your home. Your heart quickly picks up in a panic, but you do your best to ignore it.

“The artifact is supposed to let me call Gaia. It’s the only way.”

Why does he need help calling an Eidolon? You have no idea what he is talking about. Rather than let him find out, you quickly redirect the conversation to something more important. “Before that, we need to worry about your arm.”

“Oh that? It’s nothing.”

You point to the belt that’s lying away from him. “Don’t you have something on you that can help with that?”

“I can’t. If I use the elixir now, I’ll be damned when I get poisoned.”

He says that as if that was guaranteed.

Vexed, you rub the bridge of your nose. Pyri is on the balcony afar, still keeping watch.

>Talk to Pyri.
>Ask Aledt something. (What?)
>Get him to down the elixir.
>Try to draw up a spell circle.
>Leave him be and talk about the "artifact."
>Write-in.

I'll be back in 15

>>2016788
>Leave him be and talk about the "artifact."

>>2016788
>Ask about the artifact

Writing

“Your problem doesn’t make any sense,” you say. Aether is the medium of communication with those watching above, and circles are glyphs are the words to send. “Having communication problems with just a single eidolon is impossible.”

“It’s not that. The miracle I need can only performed by Gaia. You know how you call on Gale specifically when you want a stronger wind?”

You say, “You need something only Gaia can do, but... the others answer you instead?” You trail off, unsure if such a thing was possible. You doubt eidola care enough to single out a person.

“Something like that.’ He groans as he shifts in the chair.

“And what do you want done?”

“...”

You eye Aledt suspiciously. One thing comes into mind when he says that. “...The sap.”

His head tilts up to face you. “Sap?”

“The sap from this tree. You can call Gaia specifically with it.”

“No, it’s not sap,” he says, shaking his head. “It’s an artifact; someone made it themselves. It’s not... natural.” He then does a double-take. “Wait, we’re in a tree?”

“The sap should be perfectly fine, unless...”

“How am I supposed to use it?”

You reply, “You draw with it.” Like blood, or ink. “In fact, there should be a direct line in the kitchen.”

He stares at you, suddenly alert. “Can I see it?”

“Follow me.” You walk off, careful not to leave him too far behind and not get too close. You grab his belt along the way, buckling it around your satchel.

A thick layer of dust covers everything. The glyphs on the stove has long disappeared, and the one on the faucet probably isn’t working either. However, on a wall besides the cupboards, there’s a small hole in the wall—one from a cooking accident—you thought about patching over but made a hatch instead. You raise it as Aledt stumbles in, revealing a slow stream of amber flowing down.

“I’m not good with alchemy,” you say, “But this should be fine, right?”

He absentmindedly looks at it, a dull gleam in his eyes. “I came all this way for sap?”

[1/2]

>>2016952
He lets out a hollow laugh. “Okay then.” He raises his hands for a moment and lets them fall after he shakes his head. “You have anything to catch it? I wasn’t prepared.”

“I can think of a few things.” Most of your containers are in the storage and house various things like suspicious mushrooms, things you can easily toss out.

“Nah, it’s okay.” Aledt leans against the cupboards and slowly slides down until he touches the ground.

And he simply sits there.

You pause, unsure of how to deal with him. Just as you’re scrambling for words, you feel Pyri land on your shoulder. They whisper, “Are you alright?”

You nod, and Aledt says to you, “Sorry about that. I almost hit your pet.”

You say, “Pyri’s not a pet.”

They’re silent. After a long moment, Aledt reaches to the side and gets some sap on his finger. He sticks it in his mouth. “This is awful.”

“Don’t taste it,” you say.

“Is this the flavor of Gaia?” he says, weakly laughing. “...Hey, your name is Circe, right?”

Aledt gives you an uneasy look. “...You said you live here, right?”

“What of it?” you turn away, mildly bitter. You pretend to tend to the faucet spell circle.

“...Is it just you?”

“...What of it?”

“Why?”

Because you can’t.

But you don’t want to tell him that.

It’ll make you too vulnerable.

>”Because, my home is here.”
>”Because, the forest is beautiful.”
>”Because, it’s quiet here.”
>”It’s none of your business.”
>Write-in.

>>2017038
>”It’s none of your business.”

>>2017038
>>”It’s none of your business.”

Writing

”It’s none of your business.”

He’s wearing an inscrutable expression. “It’s not. Sorry, forget I said anything.”

You feel sick. Whoever this person is, it wasn’t what you expected, whatever your expectations were in the first place. The more you talk with him, the more you want to hide in your room, to shut the door and close the curtains, to be alone, where nothing can hurt you.

At least you’re used to that kind of pain.

You unbuckle Aledt’s belt from your satchel and hand it back to him. “If you’re not getting the sap, then you should get going.”

“...’Kay.” He pulls himself up with the help of the cupboard, fastening all of his equipment. He squeezes his left hand through his glove, and starts walking.

When he passes you, Pyri whispers, “...Circe?”

You take another deep breath, flushing your mind clean. “I’m fine.”

After an extremely uncomfortable ride down below, you escort him through the ground floor, past the statue where you first met him and past a twin staircase with a waterfall in the center. A few steps behind him at all times, you follow Aledt out without a word, even when he picks his sword back up. The path leading to your home—what used to be a door with two pillars surrounded by a wall of branches—is now destroyed. Claw marks could be made out of the shattered wood and stone.

You mumble, “What happened here?”

Aledt answers, “Some big fae attacked me. My bad, but I wasn’t going to knock and wait.”

“...Are you really going to leave like this?” You feel unsteady. He had come all this way and almost struck you with a sword, only to leave empty-handed?

He thoughtfully hums. “No. I don’t think I’m a condition to leave.” He turns around for a second, “Hey, Circe, I don’t think you’re a liar.”

“...?”

He pulls the black hood over his head. “So that just means you just haven’t found it yet, right?” With that he runs off.

You mutter, “Find what?”

Pyri flies off of your shoulder and lands in on rubble beside you. “Do you want me to follow him?”

Pyri should...
>Follow Aledt.
>Accompany you.
>Check the post already.

You...
>Go after Aledt.
>Go back to your home.
>Check on Bassy.

>Write-in.

>>2017210
>Check the post already.
>Check on Bassy.

Writing

You say to Pyri, “Can you check the post?”

They hesitantly ask, “Are you sure?”

“I’ll be okay. Don’t you worry about me,” you say. “I just want some alone time right now.”

“Then, if you need anything, give me a shout.” Without another word, Pyri flies off and disappears.

“...I don’t think you could hear me.”

The forest is quiet. It’s as if it’s always is, and always should be. Only the soft sound of the fauna should be the only thing you hear, not other voices. You walk forward, noting the trail of destruction was more like a twisting line, one that went back and forth while trying to reach your home. You ignore it, making your way through shrubbery to where Bassy lives.

As you walk, you examine the puncture wound on your thumb, touching it to your mouth for a moment. The bleeding’s stopped by now. It hurts all the same every time, but at least you’re used to it.

Eventually, the trees let up just a little, giving way to a small clearing that most of the tree canopy still shades. Before you is a large overhang that covers a large nest made out of branches and leaves. It’s about the size of two arm spans, and there are two black-spotted eggs on there. Bassy’s not here. You briefly consider the idea that she didn’t come out of a fight with Aledt, and you quickly bite your lip.

You saw her claw marks on the door; she must be fine. You approach the nest, lightly touching it as you wish that someone else had made it through the forest, someone who didn’t leave behind a trail of destruction like this.

Wood crunches behind you, and you spin around to see a lizard that’s as tall as you and even more. It’s thick, black hide is covered in numerous scars and not a single wound as far as you can tell. It blinks, a thin film of flesh sliding horizontally to cover the yellow slit eye. Faintly, you can see lines in it—both a spell circle and proof that it’s a fae.

“Bassy!” you run up to her and give her a hug. She licks your cheek in response and nuzzles you. “Are you okay? Are you hurt?”

She replies by bumping you in the nose.

>Ride Bassy.
>Commence petting session.
>Double-check Bassy’s health, just to be sure.
>Scold her for leaving a mess.
>Write-in.

File: 1383326202254.png (216 KB, 500x500)

216 KB PNG

Need food, be back in around 30.

>>2017385
>>Commence petting session.
>Double-check Bassy’s health, just to be sure.

>>2017396
>Commence petting session

>>2017385
>Double-check Bassy’s health, just to be sure.

Writing

You should double-check Bassy’s health, just to be sure. In order to do this, you decide that the best method to accomplish this is by thoroughly petting her. While you stroke underneath her chin and scratching behind her ear, the basilisk lets out a guttural noise that’s a mix between a purr and growl.

Bassy’s hide is notoriously sturdy when it comes to magic, and from what you’ve seen, the fight with Aledt most likely consisted of him throwing out spells while desperate not to be turned into a statue. You’ve only seen a statue once before, but that was only moments before Bassy went up and took a huge bite into it.

After a long while, you stand happily in front of an incapacitated giant lizard. You petted extra hard today, in desperate need of letting out your stress. It’s flipped over, wriggling slightly as it tries to attack you with its snout. It’s then that you notice a piece of torn cloth caught underneath a foot and branches, one with a v-shaped pattern of gold, red, and white, like a torn flag.

It looks... familiar.

Bassy flops back over, brushing past you and climbing onto her nest. Only briefly, you feel a pang of compassion for anyone who’s had to fight such a ridiculous monster. Then it’s quickly subsided, as you think they probably deserved it since they were out to get you. You can be dinner another day.

You lie down on the ground, leaning on the nest as Bassy tends to her eggs. You wonder when is Bassy’s birthday? You’ve been around longer than her, but you hadn’t found her until she was large enough to keep guard at the edge.

You close your eyes. Today is a body-free day.

It would be nice if things were kept that way.

[1/2]

>>2017720
“Circe, wake up.”

Bright chirping brings you back, and when you open your eyes, you find Pyri a good distance away. A cloth-wrapped package is underneath their talons, a crossing string letting them get a good grip on it.

“Pyri, what’s that?” you say, getting up. Briefly waving goodbye to Bassy, you walk up to the owl, who takes the package and flies a few more feet away before you catch up.

“It’s a surprise. I don’t think you should open it up next to the basilisk, just a warning.” Pyri drops it onto your hands, and just as you’re about to lift it, the bird says, “Don’t shake it!”

You stop, surprised. “Oh.” You stare at the package in anticipation.

“Were you sleeping here the entire time?”

You look at Pyri. “I was.”

“The door was knocked down. Is this really okay?”

You think, for a moment, that it was completely fine. The animals don’t know how to operate the platform, and the ones that can fly can’t be stopped by a door. Then, you realize that Aledt was not a squirrel nor a giant lizard, and that he was probably well enough off to turn a circle around.

“He wouldn’t... right?”

Pyri says, “Not yet; the elevator hasn’t moved.”

“I see...”

>Go home, just in case.
>Open your present here.
>Go somewhere else. You don’t want to think about anything right now.
>Write-in.

>>2017736
>Go home, just in case.

>>2017757
>Go home, just in case

Writing

“Let’s go home, just in case,” you say. Pyri lands on your shoulder, and the two of you make the short way back, past the trees and past the destroyed doorway. Eventually, you settle for sitting on the steps of one of the twin staircases.

You stare at the fragile package that’s now on your lap. “What is it?” It’s about the size of your hand.

“Open it and find out,” Pyri chirps.

With two fingers, you gently tug on the string, undoing the knot. It falls off, and you note that underneath the cloth is something hard. You grab one edge and unravel it, revealing a box inside. You look at Pyri, wondering if there was another box inside this box. They only offer a blink, as if telling you to continue.

You look around it for an opening, feeling around until your fingers find what you were looking for. Noting that it’s too small to be a book, you open it to find...

Something.

Curiously, you peer around it, trying to make sense of what it is. It’s bright white and it looks like some ornate carving, except it was mostly stout and cylindrical. You give it a quick, embarrassed sniff, and all you come back with is that it’s probably food.

“...What is this?”

“It’s cake.”

“Huh?!” Your brow furrows as you tried to comprehend what exactly was in front of you. A mythical object only found in your stories. “Cakes are sculptures?”

“No, that’s—” Pyri says, stopping himself. “Try it out. There’s a fork in there somewhere.”

And sure enough, there was a small wooden one hidden in the cloth. With it, you lightly stab the cake and push all the way through, bisecting it. You raise it in the air, pleasantly surprised that it’s actually composed of something that looks like bread. You place it in your mouth, feeling the soft sweetness envelop you.

Ah, this is kind of like a dream. Even if you think eating is a pain, you won’t mind doing something unnecessary every once in a while if it was always like this.

You smile brightly, the fork still in your mouth. “Thank you, Pyri. It’s amazing.”

“Don’t talk when you’re chewing.” The owl flaps its wings and takes flight again, disappearing somewhere.

[1/2]

>>2017878
When you are done, you made sure to lock the hidden staircase.

The great ball of fire in the sky has long started falling, marking the second half of the day.

>Go to your observatory.
>Go to your library.
>Go investigate outside your home.
>Wander around.
>Write-in

>>2017887
>>Go investigate outside your home.

Writing

>>2017919
Aw shit. I missed the vote window by 17 seconds.

You gather yourself. Besides the package materials, in your satchel is a quill, a bottle of ink, a handful of spell sheets, and a small fleam, a small bloodletting tool. The blood from your thumb has long dried on it, and you wash it underneath the small waterfall pond. It’s only good for inflicting a small wound, but it’s not like you would require it for anything else.

After pulling the larger semicircle off of the elevator and safely storing it in your bag, you get going to checking around the exterior of the tree.

The doorway marked as a threshold of sorts. Before entering it, the roots of the tree itself were hidden. Instead, a separate plant grew in a peculiar fashion, forming a wall that runs from one pillar of the doorway all the way around the tree to the other side. It’s an enormous circle whose shape somehow remains consistent for such a ridiculous length, one that’s composed of interlocking lines of wood.

You walk along, urged on by what you were told. Some man-made artifact was hidden here, and somehow, for all the time you’ve spent here, you could not find it. Perhaps it was behind a hidden lock, or maybe it was underneath a fallen piece of land? Regardless, you have no idea where to look. Every shrub and every tree around was familiar, some of them bigger than when you’ve last seen them.

When you complete the full circle, you have little to show for it. Displeased, you decide to check again once more. Your fingers run on the wall as you pass by, eyeing every stone and every pattern, finding nothing even after you probe them. This time, however, you stop on a particular detail that was almost lost on you—there was not a single trace of Aledt anywhere.

Nothing. You stop and wonder where could he have possibly gone. The fae are hostile to everyone except you, so there would be no shelter. It’s a miracle that he even got past Bassy.

His disappearance makes you uneasy. One thing is for certain though: there are no secrets to be found outside.

>Try to find how Aledt came so far.
>Search inside your home.
>Check your observatory.
>Check somewhere else. (Where?)
>Write-in.

>>2017991
>Try to find how Aledt came so far.

>>2017991
>>Try to find how Aledt came so far.

Writing

How did he get so far?

It’s a fact you can’t wrap your head around. Unsettled, you being making your way to Bassy. Aledt must have walked in a straight line—anything else would be suicide. Drawing an imaginary line from the great tree to the nest, you extend it forth, all the way the edge of the forest, and you begin walking.

You walk through the curving trails of wreckage left by the fight, past Bassy’s nest, and further until you come across a curious space. The trees in a circle bow away from the center point, as if an explosion had blown them away. The fallen leaves seemed to have been pushed away, as if all of the air here had expanded abruptly. Lightly, you touch the torn bark on the trees, trying to find an answer.

Pyri’s voice surprises, “Everything is clear.” They must’ve finished their patrol.

“That’s not good, is it?” Pyri doesn’t say anything as the owl lands back onto your shoulder. “What do you think happened here?”

After a long second, they reply, “It looks like a void spell.”

It doesn’t tell you anything.

You continue walking, trying to find more clues, crossing over a small stream and heading toward the mountains. You walk and walk, your breathing growing heavier by the second.

You continue until Pyri says something. “This is far enough.”

Shaking your head, you answer, “It’s not. I need answers.” Your chest heaves with every step, every movement becoming heavier and slower. Your vision is starting to blur, but you can still stand. The space between expands, as if you were drifting. You can still—

Pyri suddenly pecks your ear.

“Ah!” you flinch. You feel your entire existence be reaffirmed once again, solidified within.

“Circe, this is far enough.”

“Huh?” You muddily stare at what’s ahead. If Aledt came from straight ahead, that would mean he climbed the mountain, or that there was some cave ahead, neither of which could explain anything. You turn on your heel, heading back.

You mumble, “This is far enough...”

[1/2]

>>2018061
Walking back, a soft ruefulness touches you.

When you fully regain your senses, Pyri says, “You should relax on your birthdays.”

“I relax every day,” you say.

A shrub behind you rustles, and you turn your head around. Nothing is there, as far as you can see. You pause, and when you start to move away, something half the size of you falls out. Three jointed black spheres with eight, spindly legs tumble and stop, splaying in front of you. The arachne’s body is split in the center, cutting completely through it. Deep purple slowly oozes out of it.

Your eyes widen. Something did this to it. Was it another fae? “Who’s there?” you shout. You whisper to Pyri, “Stay close.”

You hope it’s another fae. Probability says it’s another fae. The wound on the dead spider says otherwise. Nothing cuts like that except steel.

You take a step back, and another.

>Call Aledt’s name.
>Run for it.
>Prepare a Gale spell.
>Prepare a Freeze spell.
>Write-in.

>>2018092
>>Prepare a Gale spell.

File: 1481662966140.png (95 KB, 228x278)

95 KB PNG

That's all for today. Thanks for playing! I'll be back in about 16.5 hours from the time of this post.

File: PatchouliSquare045b.png (37 KB, 184x184)

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>>2018092
>Prepare a Freeze spell.

>>2018092
>>Prepare a Freeze spell.

Rolled 7 (1d10)

>>2018092
>Prepare a Freeze spell

>>2018092
>Prepare a Freeze spell.

>Character’s name is Aledt
>Aledt is an anagram for Delta
>Delta represents change or flux

I’m onto you Hopeless

Is this the right tripcode?
Anyways, I'm unexpectedly stuck in a lab hungry and tired, so I have to push the session back three hours.

>>2019688
If someone asks you how many kidneys you have, never tell them you still have both.

Running in an hour and then some
>>2019756
My kidneys are very safe, thank you very much

>>2018151
>>2018659
>>2018932
>>2018934
Warily, you slide a hand into your satchel, feeling for your belongings again. Previously prepared spell circles are dangerous; they can go off any moment, and there would be nothing you can do to stop it. All it would take is for an inked paper to slide into place, completing the circle or glyph. Gripping the strap on your bag with your other hand, you reopen the wound from before, careful not to dirty your bag.

>Premade spell circles have a +2 bonus to total rolls, but also a +4 to critical failure.

You don’t need a firebomb to incinerate the forest, nor a gale to sweep them away, but to freeze them still. You draw from muscle memory, careful not to malign anything. You leave one of the points of the six-pronged star out to leave it incomplete.

Pyri whispers, “Someone’s watching.”

Reassured by Pyri, you put on a face of determination. You call out, “Come out, I know you’re there.”

For the next few moments, you hold your breath, all the way until a figure steps out. “Yeah, yeah,” says a voice that sounds as if they swallowed fire. She covers her head with a familiar black hood. This one casts a deep, unnatural shadow on the upper half of her face, hiding her identity. She wears black leather and cloth armor, throwing daggers lined on her sides. “Is that really any way to thank someone who just saved your life?” Her lips visibly pull back into a smile. “My name’s Dox.

You glance at the slain arachne lying on the ground. The confusion never gets to set into your expression before it fades away. “...Thanks, I’m Circe. What are you doing here?”

“Huh? What about you? This is a place too dangerous for someone like you.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Uh, it’s a bit of a hellhole here.” Dox puts a hand on her hip and points to the fallen fae with her thumb. “Your guard was completely down, and your back was wide open. You only noticed when the big ass spider fell.”

Pyri whispers, “She’s not wrong.”

Shut it.

You never had any reason to be on your guard in the first place! You want to protest, but you shut it. You’re not ready to deal with another person right now. But before you can get in a word, the walking shade already starts walking away.

“I’m looking for a dirty little thief. Find me if you see anyone, yeah? You’ll probably know him when you see him.” She waves off. “Shouting’s a shit idea, though.”

>Freeze her.
>Let her walk away.
>Have Pyri tail her.
>Say something, (What?)

>>2020914
>>Have Pyri tail her.

>>2020914
>>Let her walk away.

>>2020914
>Let her walk away.

Writing

>>2020952
>>2020960
She vanishes in the forest, and you decide to leave her alone.

“...Sure,” you mutter to no one in particular. Then, you say to Pyri, “A thief?”

“Who cares? There’s a lot of thieves,” Pyri says, “I’ll give her a half an hour. Maybe 40 minutes if she’s lucky.”

“Was it always this easy to walk in? I thought there were giant snakes guarding the edge or something.”

Pyri tilts their head. “You read too many stories.”

“They aren’t stories, they’re real.”

You are absolutely baffled. If it was so easy to enter, why hasn’t someone already walked in, chopped down your home, and then threw you into a stew for dinner or something? You bet Ryletley would have something to say if he wrote a book about this. Yet, if he has managed to publish fourteen volumes of his adventures around the world without being turned into dinner once, then you have nothing to fear!

A great deal of time passes before you start moving again, having buried the fae. When you say buried, you actually mean moved slightly out of sight before the mother arachne comes to cannibalize it and that you moved quickly away from the scene when you heard scurrying. Instead, you go to a place that you find peace in. It doesn’t matter if what’s-her-face goes through the doorway; she can’t get anywhere since you’ve locked everything up.

You end up somewhere that’s not your home, and not a place quite as comfortable as your library, but somewhere tucked away. This is either the best time for this or the worst time. Greenery, earth, and dried sticks make way for grass as the thick trees open up for a clearing, a wide circle that consists of a single large patch of white flowers. There wasn’t a single landmark that could lead anyone hear but the touch of the aether itself. A soft stream drifts though, swirling around and carrying countless wishes.

You walk to the center of it, reflecting on the beautiful silence that the day needed so much more of. You crouch down, folding your robe behind your knees. With a single finger, you catch the stem of a whisperweed.

Pyri lands on the ground and, to your dismay, starts violently shredding one of them.

>Pick one up and carry it with you.
>Divine your fortune.
>Coax a story out of one.
>Write-in.

>>2021090
>>Pick one up and carry it with you.

Writing

>>2021144
And you rip it right out of the ground. It slides with a bit of red as it starts to wither away. You shake your head. This one is bad; if it can’t survive long out of the ground, then it was a poor choice in the first place. Still, you carry it with you for a little while, watching the glossy white glow as it absorbs the blinding light of the sun. You spin it by the stem.

“...Circe,” Pyri chirps quietly.

Before you can even ask what’s wrong, you notice something, off to the side. Someone is watching you. You don’t raise your head or look their way, but you don’t move either. You feel your privacy being trampled upon.

“Is that—"

“That girl, yes.”

Why is she following you? Conflicted between confronting her and letting this go on, you opt to stall for time by walking briskly ahead. Trying to hide behind the trees as quickly as possible, you try to go through multiple twists and turns, trying to put as many things between you and her. Pyri flies into the air ahead, landing atop a branch before turning around.

You try to get past as many turns and twists you can, and when you remember, to avoid any fae nearby. It would look suspicious it you’re too friendly with the, you think. Actually, you can’t think. You’re frantic, reaching into your satchel for the freeze spell, ready to use it at any time. Your pace remains constant, your breathing calmed by sheer force of will.

“Oh hey, I forgot to ask something.” Dox’s voice appears in front of you before you can see her. You stop your approach, on edge. “Hey hey, don’t look at me like that.”

“Are you following me?”

“What? Why would I follow you?” she waves the idea away. “But you look like you know your way around here.”

“...And what if I do?”

“Ahh, you mind guiding me along? You know how it is; it’s a scary place around here. I don’t wanna go walking around alone, you know?”

“...”

“I thought, what would be the first place a thief would look? Took me a second, but I got it. You know that giant, suspicious-looking tree in the middle? Think you can help me check it out?”

You can’t ever tell if the smile she wears reaches her eyes.

>Tell her to screw off.
>Play along.
>Freeze.
>Write-in.

>>2021272
>>Freeze.

>>2021272
>Write-in
>”What was stolen from you anyway?”

Rolled 2 (1d2)

1=chill out
2=question

Writing

>>2021362
Wait I can just combine these

File: freeze copy.png (14 KB, 154x175)

14 KB PNG

>>2021313
>>2021325
You ask, “What was stolen from you anyway?”

“Supplies and equipment. We lost some pretty valuable things, and I’m here to get them back. They’re probably all gone now, but it doesn’t hurt to check.”

“I can’t help you out if I don’t know what I’m looking for.”

Dox puts her hands on her hips. “You got a point. All I can say is that we lost some important spell scrolls, ones that no one should get their hands onto, especially not some thief. How’s that?”

“Enough, I guess,” you say, “We’re head toward the tree?” You make a motion with your hand, and she turns away from you for a moment, distracted by something in the distance. You rip out the spell sheet, squeezing your finger and letting the blood flow again.

The circle lights up just as Dox turns around, right in time for the air in front of the raised paper to chill in an instant.

>Roll 1d10 with +4 bonus to total.
>DC: 10
Feel free to roll more than once if we don't get three rolls.

Rolled 3 + 4 (1d10 + 4)

>>2021440

Rolled 5 (1d10)

>>2021440
Here goes something

Rolled 1 + 4 (1d10 + 4)

>>2021440
And here’s an extra roll in case we need it.

>>2021509
nice
I'm still unsure of how hard DC numbers are to reach

Writing

>>2021523
We’re getting +4 because we’re using premade spell sheets, right? It seems like a pretty lenient system so far, but I’m not sure how straightforward or difficult casting a spell is meant to be in this world.

>>2021547
+2 is premade, +2 from freeze.
As long as you have a source of aether, casting a spell is very, very simple. Still, that's a really big catch.

>>2021456
>>2021486
>>2021509
Dox notices at the last moment and throws up an arm to try and shield herself. The air snaps without delay; everything before the circle becomes frozen, blasted with a thick layer of frost. What was once a breathing person is now a popsicle. You’ll leave worrying about defrosting and all that to her, and instead you quickly get away.

A short distance later and you sigh in relief. That was too much all on its own. Without a sound, Pyri returns to you, dropping a small glass bottle into your hands. It’s rounded at one end and sealed with cork on the other. A deep, deep black solution rolls around as you stare at it.

“What is this?”

“No idea, but I got it off of her.”

“...This is stealing.”

Pyri tilts their head, as if they were about to say something, only to reconsider at the end. “Are you going to return it to her?”

“Never mind.”

The sun has travelled far, and soon it will sink past the tall mountains that serve as one of the borders to the forest. You reach home in no time, and there you find waiting for you is Aledt. When you blink, you hold your eyes closed for an extra second, hoping that it is all a dream.

“You’re back!”

It is not a dream.

You reply, “You’re back.” You also notice something else too. “Your arm—”

“I couldn’t leave it like that,” he replies, swinging it around and testing it. “I can’t be liability.”

Pyri shifts on your shoulder, muttering to themselves. “So reckless.”

Aledt grins. “You probably don’t trust me, right?”

You give an exasperated expression. “I didn’t say that.”

“Wait, just watch.” He grabs the glove on his right hand and pulls it off, revealing his hand underneath. He brings the back of it up into the air, and you can see that there’s a spell circle on there. You can’t make it out, because all of a sudden it starts glowing. “...Well?”

“...What?”

“What do you think?”

You stare at him, confused. “It’s neat?”

It takes him a second to process it, his face going from confused to baffled. He then puts his glove back on and shakes his head. “Let’s go search for the artifact already. I got some ideas.”

>”You can search for it. I’m not joining you.”
>”Please leave my house.”
>”...Fine, if that’ll make you leave sooner.”
>Tell him about Dox.
>Ask him something. (What?)

>>2021629
>>Tell him about Dox.

>>2021629
>Tel him about Dox

Writing

>>2021682
>>2021694
He starts heading somewhere.

Pyri whispers, “He has a familiar hood.”

“Aledt,” you call his name, catching his attention. “Do you know anyone named Dox?”

“I don’t think so. Why?”

“I think they could’ve been looking for you,” you offer. This could be completely wrong, but you doubt you’d lose anything by tossing it out there. “Her clothes were similar to yours, without the armor.”

His squints past you, as if he was searching for something that wasn’t there. “Uh, a lot of people are looking for me.”

“She said she was looking for a thief.”

“I’m not a thief,” he scoffs, “I wouldn’t steal from anyone.” When you look at him inquisitively, he adds another line, one that he punctuates by gritting his teeth. “It was just... I couldn’t to make it in time. I figured nobody needed it anymore. Hey, are you just going to stand there, or are you going to help find this thing? The faster we are, the faster I leave.”

You stand there, as if you were hurt at he would mean you didn’t want him around. That was true, but you didn’t mean it like that. Okay, maybe you did mean it like that. “You were the one that were looking for it, not me, and don’t even dare think about stepping inside.”

He continues, “Why would I look inside? If you haven’t found it already, that just means it’s somewhere you haven’t looked. So that either means...” He points up, to the countless branches that jut out of the enormous trunk. “It’s up there. “And then he points down, to the flowing roots of the tree. “Or down here.”

“...What? There’s nowhere to go.”

“I don’t know about you, but I blew my last flight spell this morning.”

“So much for being a liability,” you say, “And wait, when did I agree to help?”

“You better help,” he says, grinning, “This is for you too.”

“Me...?” Your brow furrows.

“Don’t think I can’t put two and two together,” he says, “I know what you are.”

And then he walks off, leaping over a railing and onto the roots, where he vaults over one to make it to the next.

Pyri takes off from your shoulder to another part of the railing. “I don’t like him at all.”

>Chase after Aledt.
>Check the top of the tree...somehow.
>Forget this, go back in your home.
>Write-in.

Ah sorry, going to stop here for today. I feel physically sick. Picking it back up tomorrow, 23:00 UTC. Thanks for playing.

>>2021795
Get well soon, or else!

>>2021790
>Chase after Aledt.
We need to firmly ask him to please go away and never return.

>>2021790
>Forget this, go back in your home.
Hurr durr, forgot to vote.

>>2021790
>>Forget this, go back in your home.

>>2021790
>Chase after Aledt.

>>2021790
>Chase after Aledt.

>>2022130
>>2023459
>>2023767
“We can’t leave him alone,” you say. You have no idea what he’s going to do, or what the artifact is. Just knowing another person is crawling around in your space is driving you insane, and that’s not even mentioning what he said. What the hell would he know about you? How was that circle proof of anything? You can’t leave this alone, which might exactly what he wanted from you. “Come on, Pyri.”

They flap their wings, flying away without a word to keep watch, not expressing a hint of approval or disapproval but simply acceptance.

You turn around against the railing separating the road and the roots of the tree and hop onto it with the help of both of your hands. Lifting your feet over and past it, you allow yourself to drop down onto the uneven ground below. You have doubts that anything could be hidden here; there isn’t anywhere to look. Every gap is filled with plant life one way or the other, meaning it was impossible for anything to be buried. You carefully make your way forward, your eyes drifting from the statue to the lift, and then past it.

Aledt is there, crouching and staring at a couple of bright red mushrooms.

You flatly say, “Don’t eat those.”

“I wasn’t thinking of it!” he says. As his eyes scan the area, you only opt to watch him carefully. When he looks down, he pushes away vines besides him that covered a gap between roots.

“Don’t touch those.”

The vines latch onto him, wrapping around his arm and tightening their grip. Aledt tries to stand up and fails when he realizes he can’t pull free. With his free hand, he quickly unsheathes out his sword and cuts through them in a swift motion. He frowns as he rubs his forearm where the vines struck. “Do they grab you too?”

“They don’t,” you reply, “Are you just going to poke everything until something bites back?”

“That’s not a bad plan,” he replies. He casually jumps from one root to the next, as you do the same, always a good while behind him. “People would guard their treasures with traps, right? So, the deadlier the things we run into, the closer we are to it.”

That’s the line of thinking a lunatic would have, one with a complete disregard for their own life.

>”What if it wasn’t something anyone thought to guard?”
>”I’ll help look if it means you leaving sooner and never coming back.”
>”What makes you so sure the artifact is even here in the first place?”
>”Even if you find it, it’s still mine.”
>Write-in.

>>2024440
>>”Even if you find it, it’s still mine.”

Writing

>>2024440
>”What makes you so sure the artifact is even here in the first place?”

>>2024446
“Even if you find it, it’s still mine.”

“You can have it. I just need it for one spell, and that’s it anyways,” he says. He glances at you and says, “That’s alright?”

“If it’s one of those one-use things...” you trail off.

“It’s not, don’t worry. Who would hide something like that when it can only be used once?”

You don’t say anything but watch as he goes around the area twice, finding nothing. You don’t check around for yourself, however, as you’re absolutely sure if there was anything around, you would have already seen it already. You almost feel a little insulted that he can suggest that you missed something all along.

Aledt eventually stops walking in circles and comes to a full stop at the lift, where he stares at it intensely. He points to it and asks you, “Where does this go?”

“It doesn’t go down,” you say. Reaching inside your satchel, you pull out the large piece of the controls and show it to him. “Look.”

He squints in focus, and then raises an eyebrow. “Uh, what am I supposed to be seeing?”

You point to the platform. “That’s a part of the tree—”

“What?!”

“—and provides a constant stream of aether, even if it’s a little,” you continue. His eyes widen in surprise. “I choose how the circle is completed, and the support underneath it grows or shrinks depending on what I picked.” If you were to tell the truth, you’re not sure if it was always part of the tree. All you know is that ever since you can remember, it just simply was. It clearly looks manmade, like much of the rest of your home, but you didn’t build it. Maybe there’s the faintest idea of who did, but the possibility of someone carving out an entire living space on the side of a tree and moving furniture in is absolutely ridiculous.

Aledt, on the other hand, nods in hesitant understanding as he finishes inspecting the wooden piece. “Oh, so that what it says.” He can’t read the circles? Or can he not read the glyphs? “Wait, so that means you’ve never tried.”

“...I’ve never tried?”

“Going down? Maybe there’s a place underground.” That sounds absurd, but still... “I can find out for you.”

You eye him suspiciously. “What are you thinking of?”

“Doing a bit of digging.” You stare at him angrily, and he brings his hands up. “Okay, okay! I can think of something else, but I can only go there myself, so you’ll just be left here.”

What kind of ideas does he even have?

>See if you can mess with the platform circles yourself.
>Take him up on his offer to dig through the roots.
>Let him go alone, however he does it.
>Write-in.

>>2024568
>>See if you can mess with the platform circles yourself.

>>2024608
Can I get a 1d10 roll?

Rolled 10 (1d10)

>>2024618
Uh oh.

>>2024622
Nice!

Writing

>>2024622
Damn, I'm glad you rolled

File: Grin.png (712 KB, 980x1294)

712 KB PNG

>>2024625
>>2024633

>>2024608
>>2024622
...Neither of those options sound appealing in the slightest. You sigh, finding it hard to believe that Aledt could be so good at not dying and yet at the same time have such terrible ideas. That means that this problem is left up to you; you’ll entertain this wild idea yourself, even if it may or may not be bothering you there’s a secret room possibly hidden underneath your very feet.

You tell him, “I’ll take care of it.”

“...You will?”

“I can draw a new circle for the platform so that it can try and go even further.” You flip over the wooden piece, trying to think of a plan. “...Okay, I think I can think of something.”

Carefully, you walk over to a particularly flat patch of footing and sit down. Taking off your satchel, you rummage through your bag to find the freeze spell sheet that you used on Dox. You kept it with you, because throwing it out would be a waste of paper. Next, you grab your quill and ink bottle, slowly lowering it besides your bag in hopes that it doesn’t tip over.

You need to draft a spell.

[1/2]

File: empty conditional.png (20 KB, 178x173)

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>>2024703
In the words of Ryletley, the first Gift of the eidola was the circle, and it was provided by Solaria. It descended from the heavens on a whim and without warning, choosing to leave behind a wall to call upon it and the all those above. In a way, it is a language; it’s purpose is to impart meaning, knowledge, and will upon another. But for all it was good for, it was not perfect.

The freeze spell consisted of two interlocking triangles as the border. Triangles because three points meant the aether in question would be found in reference to the circle or material itself, and there were two of them because you wanted an expansion and creation of something. If you were to use three of them, that would mean you wanted a reduction. All of the circles for the platform use four interlocking triangles, meaning it were to transmute or transform the material. This is the only way to have different semicircles without having different borders.

The problem is that transmutation is esoteric and garbled. The intent is muddy and would normally require more elements that you have time or patience for. You leave the existing conditional empty and opt to instead use something else.

The second Gift were the gylphs, completely bestowed by Luna. Filling the gaps that the circle had left behind, everything that could not be transcribed through Solaria’s will can be done through this. Direct transcription of any language was allowed, but the only catch was that glyphs could not form a spell in by itself.

Just like how you could not easily create ice exclusively with a circle, you replaced the center with glyphs instead, completing the freeze spell. In order to lower the platform, you would need to reduce the column of wood below it. Instead, you can only transform. The simplest conclusion you reach was to shrink it, pulling out the controls when you want it to stop. Returning it would be a matter of drawing up another circle to increase its size.

You place the messy and ruined spell sheet to the side as you copy it down to the back of the control platform. The ink on the quill sinks into the wood, dying it black with your strokes.

Aledt peers over, silent.

[2/3]

>>2024840
The last line is completed, and you stare at your handiwork. You can’t help but smile at how clean it is, which is impressive considering you’re drawing on something you can’t simply throw away and redo if you made a mistake.

“...You know how to make these?”

You stare at him, confused. “Yes?”

“That’s pretty amazing. You’re done, right? Let’s try it out!” With that, he takes off, sprinting over to the path and railing again.

Perched atop the strange interlocking wood wall surrounding your home is Pyri, whose gaze catches your eye. You thought for a moment they shook their head, as if saying you’re going to have to fix the control wheel and the lift later.

In no time at all, you manage to catch up to Aledt, who was waiting for you at the lift and trying to hide his excitement. You can’t help but feel annoyed in equal proportion to this. Taking your new semicircle, you slide it into the platform with bated breath.

The ground beneath you jerks, and you almost lose your footing. The lift descends, the pathway soon rising past above your head. You and Aledt are lowered further and further, approaching the very roots themselves. You realize a material could be never be transmuted into inexistence, but there’s a part of you that’s unsure. And that part of you grows more and more worried as you reach the roots—and keep going.

The first second is surprising, and the next few are stressful. As the descend continues and more and more of the tree’s base passes you by, you become more and more vexed.

Aledt, on the other hand, seems elated. “Hey, I was right after all!”

What does he mean he’s right?! This entire experience grows more and more puzzling and frustrating by the moment. Your circle worked, but a part of you wished it didn’t, because if there really is some underground room, that only means one thing: you were lied to.

“Circe, stop the thing!”

You snap out of it, pulling the semicircle out without paying any attention to what’s around you. The platform suddenly stops moving, and you stand there, dumbfounded. It’s sunken about a couple of feet into the new ground, and above you is a ceiling composed of the thick roots from the tree. The room you are in looks like a giant torus, as far as you can tell, and tiny amounts of sunlight poke through all of the wildlife. The walls and floor is stone, a fact you note when you climb out of the platform after Aledt.

>Split up.
>Aledt can lead the way. He’ll be fine.
>You lead the way.
>Write-in.

>Prepare a spell circle. (What?)

>>2024982
>Aledt can lead the way. He’ll be fine.
dafuq

Writing!

>>2025087
Aledt looks around, taking in as much as he can. What lines the walls are sizeable statues, similar to the on before the platform in your home. Their faces are nondescript, but they wear long, flowing robes that are sculpted to give the illusion of dragging across the ground. Their hands are on their chests as if reciting a player.

“They give me the chills,” he says, walking forward. He takes a peek behind him when he notices you’re lagging behind. “Alright, leave the rest to me!”

You sure will. You let him lead the way, as he slowly begins making his way around the torus-shape-room while his eyes dance all around, searching for something. Halfway, a recess in the wall appears, one that’s half the height of the room and gives way to something that looks like a shrine. There’s a large stone table with a bookrest atop it. Two melted candles are beside it, one on each side. What catches Aledt’s and your eyes is the book itself, its edges and corners encased in a twisting web of root and vine, holding it place.

“That’s more like it!” he says, “Now that’s an artifact.”

A mild bitterness overtakes you. There’s something bothering you for a while now, something that you can’t seem to get out of your head. “How did you know this was here in the first place?”

Aledt stops, hesitant. “It’s just that, there was an old legend.” He doesn’t continue, as if he was lost.

“...Keep going.”

“It’s really silly if I think about it, but since I ended up being right anyways...” he trails off, as if restarting. “It’s a bit of a tale, but here goes: there’s a centuries-old story of a great arcanist who defeated an entire rogue eidolon.” Your eyes widen, yourself wanting to interrupt this ridiculous notion. The idea that someone could wrought a god out of the aether— “Long story short, their last fight was in the center of the continent. Even though they won the battle, they lost the very thing used to stop it was lost somewhere.”

“...” You remain speechless, trying to accept what he’s telling you.

Aledt walks over to the pedestal. “Looks like I got lucky!” He grabs the roots and vines and tries to pull them away.

“Ah, don’t touch those,” you off-handedly say, distracted by his explanation as much as he was telling you it.

“Crap!” He tries to take a step back, but the vines wrap around both of his arms. This time, they pull back, dragging him above the pedestal. His armor scrapes across the stone and makes a harsh sound.

>Grab the artifact yourself.
>Take Aledt’s sword and cut through the vines.
>Try to pull him out of it.
>Write-in.

>Draw a spell circle. (What?)

>>2025221
>Grab the artifact yourself.
This kills the house, and probably stops the vines

>>2025261
I think. If these are just plants that aren't magical, try to cut him out

Writing

>>2025261
>>2025266
If you pull the artifact out, would it stop the vines? Would it topple the very tree that rests above you? Not even entertaining the idea that it was the tool that could bring down a force of nature, you refuse to let it make you spend more of your time worrying about silly fantasies. Instead, you pull out Aledt’s sword from his hips and raise it. It’s surprising weight almost makes you lose control and make it fall on your face, however.

“Oh you got my sword!” he calls, trying to wedge his foot between his body and the stone stand. “Cut me free?”

Holding the hilt with both hands, you opt to cautiously lie it past his hands, where the vines being to extend from. You bring it up, and you add a bit of your strength with the weight of the sword to help hack through the vines. Aledt then rips his arms free. He then tears the book away from the grip of the rest of the plants and puts it underneath an arm.

The walls shudder, as if there was an earthquake. Loose dirt and stone fall from the ceiling, and Aledt grabs your wrist. “Come on!” He pulls you along, and you drop the sword behind. Your footsteps on the stone floor are drowned out, the tremors growing louder and heavier by the second. Aledt lets go of you as he hops onto the platform, and you reach into your satchel for the semicircle.

Most of the light pouring into the room disappears. The two of you glance up, and Aledt’s eyes open wide. He leaps out of the way just in time as a huge mass of black falls down, completely crushing the railings of the platform along with the edges of the ground. It writhes and wriggles, crawling out on all four of its legs after a brief second. It’s yellow eyes blink, and it growls as streams of deep purple bleed out of multiple cuts.

“Bassy!” you cry out.

She doesn’t hear you. She dashes forward in a frenzy, trying to bite Aledt with a single snap of her jaw. He leaps to the side, falling into a roll before staggering back up. He starts grabbing his arm, fiddling with something. In response, Bassy’s eyes begin to glow brightly, and the air between her and Aledt erupts. Like a blasting wind, an invisible force smashes into him, sending him backwards. He crashes into a wall and recovers in a second, tossing away a petrified gauntlet.

Another shadow drops down. The figure that rises is missing a forearm and completely dressed in black. She’s covered in a blood that looks like a mix of her own and also Bassy’s. She gives you a faint, familiar smile, as if seeing something amusing. “Basilisks make great mounts.” How is she still alive?!

“Dox,” you say, “How did you—"

“That’s me. Let me pay you back.”

>Gale spell.
>Firebomb spell.
>Freeze spell.
>Run to Bassy and try to placate her.
>Run to Aledt’s help.

I think our house is ruined. Humans suck. I say once these ones are gone we make a new house and personally scare off or (lightly) maim every human who comes within a mile.

Rolled 3 (1d10)

>>2025406
>Freeze spell

It’s worked before

>>2025406
>Freeze spell
Knew it was coming

>>2025491
Might as well count this roll

>>2025503

Roll 1d10 with +2 bonus to total
DC: 11
Like before, feel free to roll more than once if we don't get three rolls.

Rolled 1 + 2 (1d10 + 2)

>>2025512

Rolled 2 + 2 (1d10 + 2)

>>2025512

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531 KB PNG

>>2025491
>>2025539
>>2025542
Uh, wow

Writing

>>2025548
fugg

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20 KB JPG

>>2025539
>>2025542
Mfw we still made the DC with these rolls

>>2025557
Oh wait, +2 to the total? Never mind, we’re fucked.

>>2025557
+2 to total, not individual rolls.

You rolled a 6+2, or an 8. This entire thread's worth of rolls has been pretty impressive so far.

Rolled 9 (1d10)

>>2025512
We're a really bad mage

>>2025568
>forgot the +2 and too late
Fugg

>>2025491
>>2025503
>>2025539
>>2025542
You curse yourself. You curse that you wanted to leave her body for the forest. You curse how for all the remains you’ve seen of unfortunate travelers and thieves, all of your pity has given you not a single iota of strength. With a disgusted anger, you reach for your satchel again.

Your right hand doesn’t reach it. A sharp pain fills it as it’s jerked backwards, a throwing knife speared straight through the center of your palm. You tremble in pain and horror as you look at the wound, and then you bring your attention back to Dox, who is reaching for a second knife. You feel something ugly, a well of hideous emotions bubbling forth. Today is supposed to be a special day, and everything is falling apart. You want to lash out at everything before. Yet, you don’t.

As she had once said, an arcanist must be proper. To lose yourself when things turn south is to lose the struggle. How can you appear before the eidola a shameful mess? One must be composed and steeled such that nothing can pierce your mind. You take a deep breath, and you take control.

The second throwing knife grazes your side as you run away from her, desperate to gain distance. Grabbing the knife that’s stuck in your hand, you take control again. You rip it out as fast as you can, gritting your teeth as your hand burns white hot. Digging into your satchel with your good hand, you try to look for a spell sheet.

Dox is already upon you. Her body casts a shadow so impenetrably deep, it’s as if her very essence bleeds into the walls and floors. With a raised dagger in the air, she plunges it down, sinking it into your arm—you had intercepted it out of sheer luck. But, she doesn’t wait. The blade leaves you as fast as it entered, and it comes down again.

In the very last moment, you pull out your one and only remaining prepared spell, letting the blood from the palm of your hand fall onto it, completing the circle. The length of her dagger stabs through your robe, but fails to pierce skin as she flies back. Surrounding you are trees, the stone flooring around it broken and torn apart. Like an explosion of wood, the landscape around you grows anew.

[1/2]

>>2025613
Dox’s body is sent flying to the ceiling of the room, pinning her body to the roots, the erupting spell circle blasting her away with ridiculous force. You wince as you stand up, your attention drifting away from her. You push down the pain. Compartmentalize it. Separate it from your body. It’s a feeling in your mind, and that is all that is. Your eyes start to regain focus, and before you are Bassy and Aldet fighting.

Fighting might be the wrong word to describe it. It’s more like Aledt is running while Bassy is chasing him, much like a cat and mouse. The blond had been intercepting every single one of Bassy’s petrification spells by taking off pieces of his armor, but he’s out of steel now. Running around with only a hood, he ducks behind the ball of trees that had suddenly grown around you.

“The book! I grabbed it, and it glowed—but when I opened it, it was empty,” Aledt says to you, “What the hell is this?”

“...?”

You don’t have time to think before something falls from the ceiling.

Dox shouts, “Catch me!” On her cue, Bassy turns around, lifting her tail and letting Dox break her fall. She slides on the basilisk’s back, stopping halfway on the basilisk’s body. Her armor’s torn and heavily dirtied. She isn’t smiling anymore; it’s more of a snarl now. She grumbles, “The Lady’s gonna be pissed.” Then, she gives Bassy a kick to the side as she shouts, “Get them!”

“Bassy, stop!” you shout. Her advance continues. You see the pupils on the giant lizard shrink.

“Move!” Aledt grabs your hand and pulls you aside, and you feel a soft wind hit the spot where you just were. At the corner of your eye, the patch of bark became stone.

You’re swung to the back of that spot instead, and Aledt forces the book onto your arms in the midst of your confusion. You mumble, “What...?”

“I’ll distract them,” he says. Through his messy blond hair, his eyes become charged with determination. “I’m relying on you, alright?”

“Me?—”

“You said if we found the artifact, it’ll belong to you, right? You’re the arcanist, so figure it out!” With that, he charges out, grabbing the dropped sword in a short distance. He shouts something, but the words are lost on you.

All you can focus on are is what he just handed to you.

[2/3]

File: cover.png (1.17 MB, 1000x1000)

1.17 MB PNG

>>2025688
It’s surging with aether. It was as if someone had cut down the tree that you had made your home and compressed it into a tiny book. The sheer energy from it is almost distorting what little runs through your own unnatural blood. It’s heavenly, yet so heavy. It smells of earth, sap, and ink—a microcosm of the forest.

You couldn’t get a good look at it before, but now you see. You brush the dust off of the cover with your unbloodied hand, and you see the glyphs on the book. You’re not sure what they say, your mind seemingly jumbled.

“Spell Diary.” A soft chirping tells you. Pyri’s behind you, watching. “Open it.”

...What? What is this? What kind of artifact is this?! While you hear sounds of Aledt draw attention away from you, you put the book on the floor and flip it open, afraid to stain it with your blood.

The first page has a symbol of a flower and the word “Gaia” underneath. The second page and every single one after that is completely empty. Pages and pages, all with not a single word inside.

“Pyri... what is this?”

“Draw in it.”

With your right hand as your pen and your blood as the ink, you can draw any circle, and no matter what it is, the eidola will hear you.

>Inundate.
>Purge.
>Stop.
>Decay.

>>2025710
>Stop
Why do i feel like we`re choosing our death?

>>2025710
>Stop

>>2025710
>Stop.

>>2025728
I think it's what we want, and what our eidoething will focus on.
Stop prolly means buffs n shit, purge is self explitory
Decay is like....poisoning?
I'm probably wrong though

Whoops, writing
Drawing the circle took longer than I expected

File: page 1.png (1.32 MB, 1000x1000)

1.32 MB PNG

>>2025728
>>2025734
>>2025735
Stop.

You want it to stop.

All of it.

Your blood pours down the page, stretching the circle to make it as big as you can. This page will always stay in this book for you to remember. Is this what a “Spell Diary” is? It doesn’t matter. Three interlocking triangles serve as the border, and an eight-pronged convex point star become the center—“Time.”

The last arc is finished, and you close your eyes. The world around you is a sweet silence, not a single sound to be heard. When you open your eyes again, you find a dreamlike sight. Aledt, with a petrified leg, is stumbling away. A throwing knife is stick to an arm. A tide of wind and magic is heading toward him, seen by the rippling air. Dox, atop Bassy, is reaching for another knife.

Your mind is blank, filled with an impenetrable haze that separates thought and action.

A minute passes, and the scene does not change. Not when you blink, breathe, or otherwise move forward. It doesn’t change when you grab Dox by the leg and pull her off Bassy. You drag her through the air, like pulling along a heavy kite along the wind. You push her in front of the wave of petrification, and parts of her become stone as she settles into stillness.

You turn to Bassy. She needs to sleep for now. You can tell, something has her blood boiling, and you want to make the pain all go away. If you free her now, you’re sure you’ll be hurt too.

You take Pyri and Aledt in turn, dragging him onto the lift. The control wheel is slid on properly, not backwards, and you spin it. You grip it tightly, such that it still moves even now. Slowly and surely, the platform starts to rise, growing as if it were to take you to the observatory.

The higher you go, the farther away you get from the room. The higher you go, the faster the platform moves. The higher you go, the louder the white fuzz in your mind becomes.

It grows until the sun disappears behind the ridges of the mountain. As nothingness overtakes you, you hear the sound of movement besides you.

Something else has also stopped.

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That'll be it for this thread. Thank you for playing! I'm trying something new, but I hope you had fun! Pacing's still a bit of a difficult thing that I'm working on.

This is kind of a big departure from my previous quests, but I think I'm slowly getting the hang of it.

I'm here for any comments, questions, or concerns. Criticism is very welcome too. Next thread will be... I have no idea. Soon, hopefully.

Twitter: https://twitter.com/hopelessQM

>>2025786
I had fun, don't worry, it's not too hopeless.

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I just wanted to make a couple of corrections
>>2016343
This spell circle is misdrawn. It should be pic related.

>>2017887
>ball of fire
Should be >ball of light
This seems weird, but it's an important distinction.

>>2025790
pls

By the way, you guys can "add" things to the Spell Diary, like recording useful or custom spells, or maybe other important things. It is called a diary after all.

>>2025786
Neat. I barely have any idea what's happening, but neat.

>>2025798
Same here, but we'll probably learn more when we have a chance to really examine this.
It just froze time, it has to be incredibly powerful.

>>2025786
Thanks for running!
Playing an ontological mystery is pumping up my curiosity. Also MC a cute.

>>2025793
Will it be like MAQ where players have to figure out how to draw spells and can draw their own?

>>2025793
Thanks for running! The new world and it’s rules are interesting, and I had fun as always.

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>>2025798
Things will slowly come into light with time! Or not, in the event continued incredibly bad rolls gets the MC killed before we get anywhere.

>>2025977
The cutest

>>2026276
I've only seen MAQ in passing, but that sounds about right. Failure to solve these puzzles will result in something from Uncomfortable Situation to Very Dire Consequences.
See: the lift control circle. If you guys had the full knowledge of transmuting and conditionals, which would've been impossible for me to explain in a single thread without intense infodumps, then I would have made you guys draw a circle in Circe's stead.

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>>2026455
>double-whammy of dice and puzzles

>>2026769
>RNG puzzlesolving
They'll be separate, so it's A-OK! Maybe!

Next thread:
>>2044149