“I thought you might say that,” answered Noble, straightening himself back up, “but can’t blame one for trying. Hopefully the Lord will know what to do about your friend.”
“The Sage’s associate may know something,” piped Smart, both the artisans pushing firmly past any discussion of the prior, “She also came here recently, and is one of his kind.”
“We don’t know that,” said Noble, almost laughing.
Smart gave him a curious look, a look Willow would have recognized from Clever, Noble corrected himself, “But you have rarely been wrong before.”
“Willow, how did you feel on the way over?” asked Smart, her analyzing look on the Allomancer now, “I had my suspicion that this was all Noble had to talk about, but I wanted to ensure you were feeling well enough to go to the tower. It is roughly half a mile, which, based on your physique, doesn’t appear to be a normal challenge, but you were convalescing for two weeks. I wouldn’t want you to collapse. I would not be able to carry you to the meeting.”
The centaur’s back straightened even more.
“Smart, you’re going to the meeting?”
“Yes.”
“Attending it?”
“Yes.”
“Your sister does not miss any of the meetings.”
Smart nodded, before looking at Willow with a smile, “I am counting on it. Now. Metal-eater. Are you well?”
[The Dorms] A Perilous Acquaintance
Re: [The Dorms] A Perilous Acquaintance
With her health called into question, Willow answered by doing a few pistol squats. Not one to be deterred by clothing or modesty she did need to hike up the hem of her robe so she could properly extend her elevated leg. After a couple rounds for the sake of demonstration Willow stood back up and straightened the robe.
“Hale and hearty. Been on me duff for two weeks, can’t have that. I’m good to go whenever ya’ll are. Just lead the way, and I’ll rub elbows with any politician ya need me to,” Willow gave a thumbs up.
“Hale and hearty. Been on me duff for two weeks, can’t have that. I’m good to go whenever ya’ll are. Just lead the way, and I’ll rub elbows with any politician ya need me to,” Willow gave a thumbs up.
Re: [The Dorms] A Perilous Acquaintance
“I will meet the two of you there, I still need to finish my breakfast,” added Noble, before he went back to his meal, “Not to mention, the ceremonial plate takes a minute strap on.”
Smart grinned, and shook her head. The two seemed a little uneasy, but now their candor was back to normal. With that, she led Willow back out through the doorway into the main lot, and sighed.
“I am sorry if we’ve made you uneasy,” the four-armed artisan chimed as she cut across the green, “We don’t get visitors, and even if we did, it’s hard to say who’s a stranger and who’s just from another part of the realm we’ve yet to see.”
Willow enjoyed a unique privilege of height in this world, Navipolis was tall and reaching, but it was designed to house thousands of smallfolk. Much like the houses on the beach in Jotungard, the businesses and homes that lined the streets were meant for the likes of Bjorn, who was still asleep and trailing after them. The Allomancer would need to occasionally duck under lines of laundry that spanned the narrower streets, and the wade carefully through tight market stalls. All the while, she could more easily see the span of the marble city. As she climbed up towards its center, she saw that it sat on a particularly large island in the Floating Isles.
Despite the extensive use of marble, the white was accented with many colors. There was art almost everywhere, banners, murals and statues. Wherever Willow went there was more being made. Spriggans cultivated little gardens of green. Golems assembled works of light and stone. The canidaer, Noble’s dog-centaur people, as Smart called them, kept order and tidiness. The constructs, called wisps, seemed to be in an endless task of hauling ribbon, robes and lines to decorate the walls. Bjorn’s people painted and gave color to anything they could.
“Creation,” explained Smart, who had been charging Willow with a great deal of information as they walked. The artisan seemed keen on familiarizing her with everything she could. “Creation is the core tenant of our world. The Sage was the first, and he commanded us to make. To shape. So we create. Noble builds cities. I gather lore and studies. Creative creates art and stories. Clever creates machines and tools. And Diligence… he makes…”
They had come to the tower at the center of the city, rounded by limestone. It was monolithic, and raised over a wide disc that sat at its base. Smart looked like she was going to finish that thought, but once she stepped on the disc she vanished in a glimmer of light. Not one to give people time to prepare themselves, one of her porcelain hands reappeared and guided, or, if necessary, pulled Willow through.
When they appeared on the other side, they were standing just off center of a rounded balcony that opened into a large chamber. Inside, Willow could see five chairs, and one broken, arrayed in a circle around a pair of creatures.
One stood slightly taller than the other, and appeared to be a man who glowed with an arcane fire from the waist up. The other was like the other, but her fire was blue.
“Willow?” said the girl wreathed in fire, a pair of glowing eyes looked at her intensely.
“Fairburn,” came a grim drone from the other being. Their voices were distinctly familiar.
Familiar, until the flames peeled back on the girl, revealing Manon.
“What are you doing here?” asked Manon, wrapped in white fool’s clothes, now that her flames were gone, “Non, don’t tell me, the side of the dorms were not challenging enough. So you decided… a monolithic tower?”
Smart grinned, and shook her head. The two seemed a little uneasy, but now their candor was back to normal. With that, she led Willow back out through the doorway into the main lot, and sighed.
“I am sorry if we’ve made you uneasy,” the four-armed artisan chimed as she cut across the green, “We don’t get visitors, and even if we did, it’s hard to say who’s a stranger and who’s just from another part of the realm we’ve yet to see.”
Willow enjoyed a unique privilege of height in this world, Navipolis was tall and reaching, but it was designed to house thousands of smallfolk. Much like the houses on the beach in Jotungard, the businesses and homes that lined the streets were meant for the likes of Bjorn, who was still asleep and trailing after them. The Allomancer would need to occasionally duck under lines of laundry that spanned the narrower streets, and the wade carefully through tight market stalls. All the while, she could more easily see the span of the marble city. As she climbed up towards its center, she saw that it sat on a particularly large island in the Floating Isles.
Despite the extensive use of marble, the white was accented with many colors. There was art almost everywhere, banners, murals and statues. Wherever Willow went there was more being made. Spriggans cultivated little gardens of green. Golems assembled works of light and stone. The canidaer, Noble’s dog-centaur people, as Smart called them, kept order and tidiness. The constructs, called wisps, seemed to be in an endless task of hauling ribbon, robes and lines to decorate the walls. Bjorn’s people painted and gave color to anything they could.
“Creation,” explained Smart, who had been charging Willow with a great deal of information as they walked. The artisan seemed keen on familiarizing her with everything she could. “Creation is the core tenant of our world. The Sage was the first, and he commanded us to make. To shape. So we create. Noble builds cities. I gather lore and studies. Creative creates art and stories. Clever creates machines and tools. And Diligence… he makes…”
They had come to the tower at the center of the city, rounded by limestone. It was monolithic, and raised over a wide disc that sat at its base. Smart looked like she was going to finish that thought, but once she stepped on the disc she vanished in a glimmer of light. Not one to give people time to prepare themselves, one of her porcelain hands reappeared and guided, or, if necessary, pulled Willow through.
When they appeared on the other side, they were standing just off center of a rounded balcony that opened into a large chamber. Inside, Willow could see five chairs, and one broken, arrayed in a circle around a pair of creatures.
One stood slightly taller than the other, and appeared to be a man who glowed with an arcane fire from the waist up. The other was like the other, but her fire was blue.
“Willow?” said the girl wreathed in fire, a pair of glowing eyes looked at her intensely.
“Fairburn,” came a grim drone from the other being. Their voices were distinctly familiar.
Familiar, until the flames peeled back on the girl, revealing Manon.
“What are you doing here?” asked Manon, wrapped in white fool’s clothes, now that her flames were gone, “Non, don’t tell me, the side of the dorms were not challenging enough. So you decided… a monolithic tower?”
Last edited by Kokuten on Tue Aug 29, 2023 6:54 am, edited 1 time in total.
Re: [The Dorms] A Perilous Acquaintance
“Nope, uh huh,” Willow cut in quickly as Manon made a joke. “After everything I had to deal with to find you, not even mentioning the fact that I was comatose for two ding dang weeks because of the effort, we aren’t starting this off on a joke”
She quickly began looking around for any paper or small object she might be able to toss at the clown. So quickly the fanciful walk through the fantasy city had been overshadowed by the sudden appearance of her McGuffin.
“I…” Willow raised a finger in accusation. “Was prepared to throat punch a god thinking you’d been kidnapped, but instead I find you just hanging out. You didn’t even know I was unconscious just down the road for the last fortnight? And you!”
Willow’s finger panned to Smart, the Brit then shifted the finger back and forth pointing at herself and Manon.
“That right there is a human,” Willow said, her voice returning to a normal, if slightly strained tone.
She quickly began looking around for any paper or small object she might be able to toss at the clown. So quickly the fanciful walk through the fantasy city had been overshadowed by the sudden appearance of her McGuffin.
“I…” Willow raised a finger in accusation. “Was prepared to throat punch a god thinking you’d been kidnapped, but instead I find you just hanging out. You didn’t even know I was unconscious just down the road for the last fortnight? And you!”
Willow’s finger panned to Smart, the Brit then shifted the finger back and forth pointing at herself and Manon.
“That right there is a human,” Willow said, her voice returning to a normal, if slightly strained tone.
Re: [The Dorms] A Perilous Acquaintance
“Not in this context.”
The man at the center of the chamber spoke in a voice that filled the room, as if he were speaking from the walls itself. His fire burned green, and it rose high above his head. Bright, yellow eyes stared back at Willow through the flames.
“This… context?” asked Smart, thrown by this sudden change, “As in… the realm?”
“Manon is human in the middle-realm, but here,” said the man, just as Manon’s upper half reignited, “she is a font. She does not dream. Not here.”
With an intense moment of focus, Manon brought the flames down again.
“I…” started the Clown, holding her hands up, as if it would keep the flames from coming up again, “... am on time-out. Monsieur Casson; he caught me, and now I am here taking mandatory lessons. I have been in zis tower for ze last two weeks for the petty crimes of grand theft of sensitive property. You must believe me, I did not mean to cause you trouble. If I am being frank, which is easy because I am French, I thought you’d be happy to be rid of me.”
The man at the center of the chamber spoke in a voice that filled the room, as if he were speaking from the walls itself. His fire burned green, and it rose high above his head. Bright, yellow eyes stared back at Willow through the flames.
“This… context?” asked Smart, thrown by this sudden change, “As in… the realm?”
“Manon is human in the middle-realm, but here,” said the man, just as Manon’s upper half reignited, “she is a font. She does not dream. Not here.”
With an intense moment of focus, Manon brought the flames down again.
“I…” started the Clown, holding her hands up, as if it would keep the flames from coming up again, “... am on time-out. Monsieur Casson; he caught me, and now I am here taking mandatory lessons. I have been in zis tower for ze last two weeks for the petty crimes of grand theft of sensitive property. You must believe me, I did not mean to cause you trouble. If I am being frank, which is easy because I am French, I thought you’d be happy to be rid of me.”
Re: [The Dorms] A Perilous Acquaintance
Context schmontext, and dreaming be damned. Human is human no matter where she is and whatever subtext you add,” Willow stubbornly stated, if she was intimidated then she was combating it by being belligerent. Shifting her gaze back to Manon. “I thought you were kidnapped, and a spriggan threw a shoe at my face! Who’d be happy about that?”
With a huff Willow crossed her arms and scowled, but the tone of her voice seemed to mellow.
“Couldn’t have at least left a note rather than leaving me chasing spriggans into a wasp nest of wraiths?”
With a huff Willow crossed her arms and scowled, but the tone of her voice seemed to mellow.
“Couldn’t have at least left a note rather than leaving me chasing spriggans into a wasp nest of wraiths?”
Re: [The Dorms] A Perilous Acquaintance
"Not much of a choice in ze matter," grumbled Manon, "one moment I am opening ze door to go get something from ze common room, and ze next? I am here, in zis tower."
A pensive look spread on the clown's face, and the fires overtook her again. It took less time to push them back down and keep a normal countenance, "Willow, I am sorry I got you wrapped up in zis. If you like, I'd let you princess carry me out of here, if zat would help you feel better. That, and I hate to ask zis now, but… do you still have my folder?"
A pensive look spread on the clown's face, and the fires overtook her again. It took less time to push them back down and keep a normal countenance, "Willow, I am sorry I got you wrapped up in zis. If you like, I'd let you princess carry me out of here, if zat would help you feel better. That, and I hate to ask zis now, but… do you still have my folder?"
Re: [The Dorms] A Perilous Acquaintance
"Eh? Never had it to begin with," Willow's eyebrow cocked. "The spriggan that chucked a shoe at me face tore off with it. Thus my conclusion that you'd been napped in the night and they were cleaning house. 'sides, why, when beginning pursuit of a suspected kidnapper, would I take time to grab a manila? What's more, you're walking out of here on your own. I'm the one what's in a coma for two weeks while you's playing wit' fire."
The teen took a series of deep breaths as she calmed herself down.
"Regardless, I agreed to attend a meeting. Fate of the realm business and whatnot. You being here just means we can take an item off of the docket."
The teen took a series of deep breaths as she calmed herself down.
"Regardless, I agreed to attend a meeting. Fate of the realm business and whatnot. You being here just means we can take an item off of the docket."
Re: [The Dorms] A Perilous Acquaintance
“A–... a spriggan took it,” Manon’s character broke as a mixture of emotions more powerful than Willow had ever seen contort her soft features. “Willow. That folder it is… it is my life-- It is my past, the one I don’t know about it. Where is ze spriggan, where did he go? I will go– I have to find it, it’s mine–”
“It was stolen from she who stole it,” came the resonating voice again, and Manon hunched her shoulders, remembering where she was. The clown, unhinged, spun about on the man at the center of the room.
“My past does not belong to you!”
Smart, who rarely came to this place, appeared as uncomfortable as Willow had when the Allomancer sat through the spat between Noble and herself. The burning man considered Manon’s words, though, and did not give an immediate response, instead crooking what looked like his single arm under his chin.
“No. It does not.” the voice began again, dour and familiar, “It never did, but I became, unfortunately, responsible for it, and, fortunately, responsible for you. You are not ready. I am not ready.”
Whatever nuance defined Manon’s feelings was lost as she grit her teeth and the flame over her body grew dangerously large. She inhaled and with a wave of the man’s hand, she was gone. Out of the edge of Willow’s vision, she could see something shift color on what looked like one of three moons that circled this world. It started small, but from it a blue wildfire erupted, evident where she stood astronomically far away.
“Now, Fairburn,” Willow found herself subject to the man’s stare, faceless and ethereal, “Your journey ends here. I want you to gather your things, and prepare to return home.”
“It was stolen from she who stole it,” came the resonating voice again, and Manon hunched her shoulders, remembering where she was. The clown, unhinged, spun about on the man at the center of the room.
“My past does not belong to you!”
Smart, who rarely came to this place, appeared as uncomfortable as Willow had when the Allomancer sat through the spat between Noble and herself. The burning man considered Manon’s words, though, and did not give an immediate response, instead crooking what looked like his single arm under his chin.
“No. It does not.” the voice began again, dour and familiar, “It never did, but I became, unfortunately, responsible for it, and, fortunately, responsible for you. You are not ready. I am not ready.”
Whatever nuance defined Manon’s feelings was lost as she grit her teeth and the flame over her body grew dangerously large. She inhaled and with a wave of the man’s hand, she was gone. Out of the edge of Willow’s vision, she could see something shift color on what looked like one of three moons that circled this world. It started small, but from it a blue wildfire erupted, evident where she stood astronomically far away.
“Now, Fairburn,” Willow found herself subject to the man’s stare, faceless and ethereal, “Your journey ends here. I want you to gather your things, and prepare to return home.”
Re: [The Dorms] A Perilous Acquaintance
“I mean, yeah, I tried catching it, but between suddenly ending up in Wonderland, getting attacked by a Froggodile, and needing to extricate a thespian from beneath a tree; I kind of lost track of them,” Willow offered. It wasn’t much, but it was the truth; and while her main goal had been to find Manon, finding those spriggans and the file were part and parcel to the deal. As she stood and listened to the argument her stance shifted to clasping her hands behind her head in an aloof pose. This wasn’t her fight, so she had intended to stay out of it; right up until Duderonomy brought her into it by trying to take her out of it. It made sense. Hell, it was even pretty much her exact goal; having made sure the French girl was safe, and now being offered a way home. However, everything about it rubbed Willow the wrong way, and she could practically feel a defiant quip forcing its way out of her. Suddenly she realized; she wasn’t Frodo right now. She was Sam.
“Cocking Nora! The Hell with that, Mister I’m-Assuming-You’re-That-Lord-Fella. Ya know! I gots a real bone ta pick with you!” Willow had some vinegar and felt like she could hear a song from The Sex Pistols playing in her head . “In the day I’d been here I had been attacked by wraiths, settled squabbles, saved three of your artisans, seen dead civilians, and then knocked comatose. All of this while you’ve apparently been up here in an almost literal ivory tower playing with matches. Far as I’m concerned I am one of two people that has been actually doing anything about the fact that the realm you’re supposedly Lord of is suffering. If you think I’m packing my bags and just leaving then I have a few more choice words relating to how close your cap and your keister are apparently located.”
That… was probably a little much. Dungeons probably weren’t that bad, right?
“Cocking Nora! The Hell with that, Mister I’m-Assuming-You’re-That-Lord-Fella. Ya know! I gots a real bone ta pick with you!” Willow had some vinegar and felt like she could hear a song from The Sex Pistols playing in her head . “In the day I’d been here I had been attacked by wraiths, settled squabbles, saved three of your artisans, seen dead civilians, and then knocked comatose. All of this while you’ve apparently been up here in an almost literal ivory tower playing with matches. Far as I’m concerned I am one of two people that has been actually doing anything about the fact that the realm you’re supposedly Lord of is suffering. If you think I’m packing my bags and just leaving then I have a few more choice words relating to how close your cap and your keister are apparently located.”
That… was probably a little much. Dungeons probably weren’t that bad, right?