writelite's 100 Themes

[writelite]

One Hundred Easy Pieces for PbP

This series showcases a certain type of game: one easy to set up and see through to the end, engaging - while demanding little of the players.

It uses randomness to relieve the DM from conceiving a story beyond its rough idea. The duration is given by the number of challenges. The characters are defined basically, with the option to reveal details as the story unfolds. Story development has priority over other things. A minimalist system is used, where common sense and a firm DM hand replace a need for numbers. Undecided situations are clarified by a dice roll.

 

Game Details Randomness in character definition and story stages is based on my world elements. Throughout, out-of-story insertions like [3d330 = 71, 185, 2: description...] indicate picks from the table and what was made of them. For story structure, i begin each time with only these notions: that the characters are assembled to pursue a goal, and that some challenges require unusual means - possibly implying detours. The chosen length of each episode is medium, with only three special challenges (and a few hurdles the characters can handle 'as they are'). If an episode's theme does not inspire the goal, game structure begins with defining one randomly. In that case, the theme will fit in the background of story events. After that, i use dice to sketch out the characters. Throughout, the DM can roll for hints on the story's continuation. Also, there will be points where the players are asked to react to something. Then too the dice can influence their decisions. In usual games, the characters are mainly defined by their approach to dealing with danger and obstacles. Brought down to basics, the approach can be: (a) forceful or subtle, (b) up close or from a distance, and (c) physical or magical (including Charisma skills). In some cases, more than one approach is possible. Popular examples are a bow based Ranger that also heals (forceful, from a distance, physical + subtle, up close, magical), a charming Rogue with daggers (subtle, up close or from a distance, physical or magical), a Wizard weaving a variety of spells (subtle or forceful). Besides that, we have flavor traits, a history, and motivation. In this series, the latter will be righting a wrong (even if on a comical note), or doing a good deed. History can be dispensed with, flavor can follow action. More important than anything, to my mind, is that a character participates in the story. Active involvement seems more important than intricate definition, and story development seems more important than personal details. There is no measuring against stats, no need for it. If the story is going in a certain direction, math will not change that. With focus on writing a good story, no player would attempt impossible things or make unreasonable claims. To decide a contest between hard to assess forces, a simple dice roll can be used; e.g. [1d6 = 3: description...], where 1 to 3 represent one contestant, and 4 to 6 represent the other. Similarly can be decided the failure or success of an unusual action.

If the ideas above interest you, there is room for dialogue on my world elements and game system threads. To experience them, perhaps Other Roleplaying Games is a good place.

It is appropriate to this forum that the episodes would look more like stories than games. But that may also result from a one-writer's-tendency to move the story forward in a unified way. When that takes place, the reader is invited to recognize game potential on their own. OOS (Out Of Story) blocks, otherwise suitable for dice rolls that influence great lengths of the story, can also host my attempts to support the reader's effort.

A striking difference from games is made by picking one character's point of view at a time - instead of presenting those of all characters, before advancing the story. Where necessary, i'll summarize what a character did before given story focus. In general, i will be using short descriptions for each character's part, method which makes possible to present in close succession everyone's point of view or reaction.

Of comments on writing, what to make... We all have our limitations, and i can not promise even attempts at improvements based on others' opinions; however well intended... Otherwise, the thread belongs to the site, and it seems natural to have it open to everyone here's input - be it about writing, alone. If a prolific debate is on the horizon, i may reply supporting my point of view. But one's comment can also be something just for the person who made it - to benefit from upon later reflection.

May i end this preface by wishing you pleasant reading and inspiration for your happy stories and games

[writelite]

 

 

OOS -- work in progress... As i wrote, it became apparent that, until it ends, the story would gain considerable size. To write here is to feel in contact with the world of RP and PbP, and for that i decided to return sooner - bringing a part of the story each time. To be consistent with this thread's idea, the first part needed to include a challenge. You will find it described in chapter three. By the end of the story, these have been the uses of randomness: - Adventure Motivation and general location of Challenges OOS_B - Characters: their means (skills/party-role) and expression (looks/behavior) OOS_B, CHAPTER_6 - Challenges in predefined locations OOS_E, OOS_G (system of challenges) - Locations, along with their Exits, Interactables, and the Challenge faced therein CHAPTER_5, CHAPTER_6, CHAPTER_7 - Combat CHAPTER_5, CHAPTER_6 - Success of Actions outside of Combat CHAPTER_7 - Unusual Means of solving a difficult situation CHAPTER_7

 

OOS -- Goal, Theme, and Characters Goal & Theme 3d300 = 56, 248, 197: hills, pocket, quilt (read quill by mistake!) An important item, a magical quill, was stolen and hidden in a dimensional pocket. The access point to that is unknown. There is a divination book that would have revealed it, but it's a mess of predictions - now that its introductory part was removed. That portion of the book was a story, a fairy tale. It focused on the passage through a dangerous labyrinth, which was set up on some hills in the wilderness. The team of adventurers will try their luck at rewriting that introduction with their own progress through the maze. More on 'Introduction' as Theme in the first OOS after Chapter 3. Characters 3d300 = 186, 106, 156: key, fruit, cylinder The first character: Rogue, locks specialist -- head reminding of red apple, ruddy complexion -- subtle, up close or from a distance, physical -- dagger and blowgun as weapons. 3d300 = 68, 32, 168: smoke, eddy, tower The second character: Wizard, odds evening expert -- tall, wearing a robe with pockets at different heights -- subtle or forceful, from a distance, magical -- empty hands. 3d300 = 67, 18, 95: spark, lightning, leaf The third character: Druid, channels electricity, heals with leaves -- leaves motif on clothing -- subtle or forceful, up close or from a distance, magical -- staff as weapon. 3d300 = 216, 28, 15: statue, geyser, wind The fourth character: Barbarian, tough guy, fast in combat -- commanding presence, outbursts of anger -- forceful, up close, physical -- great axe as weapon. Starting from these qualities, i further relied only on inspiration to give the characters some depth. It seemed like a good place to remind that random picks of world elements can be used instead.

 

OOS -- The Gathering The Gathering of the adventurers is a stage i skipped in this story. It would describe them before the story starts, as they are summoned to a meeting, or learn about a quest they can participate at. It is often the stage where a first description of the characters is given. I preferred to bring details about them gradually into focus, as seen through each other's eyes, during The Briefing. It also seemed better for the type of game proposed here to engage the players as early as possible in an event relevant to the story.

 

Chapter 1. The Briefing The tavern door squeaked wide open, letting a forest waft in. In the frame stood a cloaked figure, staff in hand, measuring the room. At the bar there was only this... big fellow, who took most of the space there. When she entered, he raised his eyes for a bored nod, then turned back to his pint. The place was rather empty. Someone sat smoking at a far corner table - she couldn't see clearly, and nearer, there was just this smiling gnome girl playing darts. Aster stepped in and took her hood off. Streams of her rich blonde hair flew out and settled on her shoulders. Calmly, she walked towards a chair from which she could have everyone else in sight. This must have been the right place, the message mentioned three others. Yet, they were all strangers... "I see you are all here, good, good... We can get started," a voice sounded, suddenly, though Aster could not tell where from. The smoke began to clear and she felt drawn to look that way. A tall, wiry old man with a wide brimmed hat was looking up through fading wisps. Everyone else was looking up actually... A loud crash! A bar-stool fell to pieces on the floor. To their surprise, the ceiling had vanished and... a large face, as of a giant, peered in. The fellow at the bar got over the surprise the fastest, it seemed, and threw a piece of furniture at the impromptu apparition. But... the stool just hit hard air and fell. "...There is no need for that, I assure you," continued the... person there, somewhat embarrassed. "We cannot hurt each other... I am very far from you, actually." "What's going on here?" asked the gnome girl, who had approached Aster unnoticed and stepped up on a chair, near her. The smile had changed into a light frown which gave her little round face a funny expression... as if it was unable to express anger - though she tried. "Well... It is I who called you all here. I apologize for the fright, but these are special circumstances. I had to meet you in a way that is... shall we say, hard to detect? Discretion is paramount. This..." - the voice switched to a whisper - "...assignment concerns the royal family." "Aah..." came from the old man. It was widely known that the palace dealt with strange magic, the kind the average spell-caster out there wouldn't dream to control. Brushing his grey beard slowly, he ventured: "We should perhaps talk in riddles, then?" It was the big fellow's turn to frown. The face up there smiled. "If we have to, I'll leave it to you to explain them to others. For now, we agree on the secrecy, yes?" - A moment of silence. - "Good. So... you would do the palace a favor, and there's a handsome reward waiting you at the end - should you succeed..." "So who do we have to kill?" cut in the fellow by the bar, obviously annoyed by the delay. "Ah, yes, danger can be expected in your quest, but... of what nature I can not say," came the answer. "You'll face the trials of the labyrinth hills - a treacherous place few have braved throughout time." "The labyrinth hills..." the old man let out, his eyes caught by a glimmer. "Labyrinth, eh?" said the gnome girl, sitting down on the table. It began to sound more like usual business. "What do we have to recover, then?" she asked. "Nothing. It does not work that way... You see:" - the voice continued in whisper - "Something is indeed missing - stolen and hidden... probably in a pocket between dimensions, since our spells failed to take its trace... It's an item of major importance, the pen our King signs decrees with - you know, the quill that can't allow wrong decisions? Our last hope was the Royal Compendium of Divination, but we found that a part of it was removed... The magical book is just a useless mess of predictions now!" The voice stopped, as if to assess how the four handled that information. Some brows were raised, some lowered, and the silence among them threatened to grow thick. "So..." tried Aster, "where do we fit in?!" "That part removed... the book's introduction." The big fellow's jaw dropped. "I'll explain:" the voice went on. "You see, it was magical, like the book, and it was a story, a fairy tale really... But it showed the passage through the labyrinth I mentioned. And now, someone has to rewrite it, by finding the way through the maze once more." Silence again - but one each adventurer took a share of now, as they weighed pros and cons. The big fellow bowed his bald head, eyes fixed on the great axe's blade which his rough hand slowly brushed. He seemed a dark mass of hides and thoughts, whence only the faint glimmer of steel broke out at times. The old man had lit his pipe again and leaned back to enjoy the smoke. His features soon became a puzzle on par with the prospects of the mission. Occasionally, the smoke gathered and took shapes only he would have understood. The gnome girl had let a dagger out of her sleeve and started scratching the table's surface, at random. Her dark, short trimmed hair, now framed a face sunk in shadow. Now and then her hand stopped, pinning a through. Aster stood back straight on her chair, her whole figure reminding something of an oak's majesty. Her clothes' leaves motif and her golden hair would further hint at the wisdom of ageless woods, bathed in sunlight. In the end, their attention returned to the room - as if on cue - one by one letting out under their breaths: "Arrr, unknown danger..." / "Riddles of old..." / "Handsome reward, huh..." / "Kingdom's fate..." Again smiling - this time to their apparent unity of reaction, the mouth up-ceiling continued: "So you would all give it a try! Excellent! The old spell found the right people... By the way, let me introduce you:" "Brik, the Barbarian, by the bar - the strong arm of the team." To that, the big fellow couldn't hold back a proud grin. "Pendan, the Wizard, in the smoke there - experienced in all things mysterious." The old man nodded and let out another puff. "Fann, the Rogue, on the table - a sure hand and quick mind at need." The gnome pressed her lips thin, spying left and right at everyone's expression. "And Aster, the Druid, our last arrival - a friend of nature, skilled in its ways." The woods lady raised her brow slightly, as if to expose fully her honest face. "As for myself, I am just a member of His Majesty's household. To say more seems unnecessary, and may be dangerous. The quill's thieves could be from the court as well... Enough to know the importance of your quest, and to have my word on a generous reward. Now - ladies, gentlemen - time is of the essence. It is best that you start right away on your journey. The hills are to the east." The courtier paused, as if searching his memory. "Ah, yes, you'll find a sack of provisions down at the dark end of the counter. They should last you for a few weeks. The way to the hills takes at least one... Purchases or, later, hunting may draw attention. I must insist on the mission's secrecy. And with that in mind, I must also ask that you go out on separate ways and meet later outside the city." Once more, a pause. "Good luck!" he then said, with a smile. "I trust the spell that brought you four together. The book will record your progress, and hopefully your success. Safe journey! I now bid you all fare well!" were the last words. The ceiling closed, looking like it has always been thus.

 

OOS -- The Journey The Journey is a stage that could have been greatly shortened in this story, since all real challenges await at the destination. From where they left the tavern to the labyrinth's entry, the characters' progress could have been briefly traced on an imaginary map. Here i experimented a bit. I tried to see what may be made of such circumstances that are not obstacles. Also, i wrote casually, without a plan, thinking it against the story's spirit for a DM to put effort in such a stage. It's complicated work for which there is no time in the type of game i propose. What i got out of my experiment mostly are some ideas for future stories: (1) One idea is to have the characters highlight their strengths - to achieve contrast with the time of challenges, when their (known) strengths would prove insufficient. (2) Another idea is to create room for characters to get to know each other better. Likes and dislikes, as well as expectations established here may be the ground for interactions when engaged in challenges. (3) A third idea is to announce the interest of external parties - like informers of a major adversary, which the character would eventually face. (4) A fourth idea is for the characters to perform deeds that seem of little importance at the time, but prove decisive at the time of challenges. For one thing, they can meet magical characters a small good deed towards whom gains them help in return. (5) A fifth idea is have NPCs meet and join the party, later to prove beneficial or the opposite. (6) Yet another idea is to create random events that have no real bearing on the story, but cause the characters to doubt the quest, themselves, or their team mates (even unreasonably). For a story, this stage works even in the absence of challenges - one way or another, it serves to connect the reader a bit to the characters. But in a game where the journey is not punctuated by challenges, it is something hard to pull out right. I think it best to keep the players engaged throughout, and content that is essential to the game's story seems most fit for that. Aware of the danger that chapter two can drag on, i summarized and skipped forward as felt comfortable. I also had as reference the extent of the first chapter; which in the end i managed to exceed...

 

Chapter 2. The Journey The adventurers looked at one another. Pendan dismissed the smoke around him with a hand wave and said: "It is about noon now. Plenty good hours to leave the city inconspicuously. Not far to the east lies a ruin, once a water mill. Just follow the stream and you'll find it. Let us meet there at dusk." With that, he went to the counter's end, found the sack, and moved some provisions from it into his bag. Waving his hand again, he headed towards the exit and stepped out into the street. Fann followed, after taking some time to pick out the goodies of the lot. On the way to the door, she suddenly remembered a dart still on her - threw it to the mark's center, smiled to the room, and shortly went out of sight. Aster approached the sack in a dignified manner, and chose only a few pieces which fitted the bag at her hip. She adjusted its shoulder strap to remove wrinkles and, with a short nod to Brik, she silently walked out the door. Throwing the sack on his back, the Barbarian emptied his pint and - with a few thumping steps - crossed the distance to the door frame. He had to stoop there to pass, also given his load, but the multitude on the streets soon swallowed him as easily as the others. One by one they all made it safely out of the city, and by sunset Fann and Brick had already reached the meeting place. The other two both saw fit to arrive some time later, as they could guide themselves easily by more than the sun. Aster was the last to join them, again. A small fire was burning in a sheltered area of the ruin. "Someone likes to be late at the party!" threw Fann, tilting her head and smiling playfully. She was poking the jar with a stick, bored by the waiting. Brik had just arrived with another armload of wood, and let it fall on the ground. "All here. Good," he said, and stared at Aster as if losing his thoughts in that direction. "Good evening," the druid spoke calmly, giving a look to the pile formed at Brik's feet. She then sat by the fire, allowing herself to enjoy the warmth, and added casually: "Are we planning to spend the night here?" Pendan chuckled to himself, coughing a few smoke rolls. Then replied: "We better not. We lost this day, and the night might be better for travel - at least until we are far enough in the wilderness." "Sounds safer," chirped Fann. "Any pursuers, I can hear better by night too!" "Still, a couple of hours of sleep each, at least, seems like a wise decision," insisted Aster. "We don't know what we might face by daylight." Brik shrugged. "Very well, Druid. We'll rest when we feel tired. I'll take the first watch with Brik, who wouldn't tire easily," Pendan summed it up, and they all agreed to the arrangement. They extinguished the fire, helped the Barbarian make a bundle of the firewood, and went out into the forest. Aster made sure it was all the wood he had gathered. The extra weight did not seem to bother Brik, and later Fann's bag on top of everything made little difference (...she did select a few too many goodies). The night passed without events. When it was time to rest, Aster touched several trees with her staff and whispered to them. Soon after, they began to move and ever so slowly gathered around her and Fann. Moss covered roots were raised for pillows and a soft cover of falling leaves was laid upon their bodies. To that, Brik rubbed his eyes a few times. Pendan just smiled. When it was the men's time to rest, Aster kept watch over the fire, while Fann whispered away about her greatest achievements (which weren't few, apparently). When she was done with that, she moved to hearsay and legends - wondering if they would encounter such dangers in the labyrinth. Through all that, Aster kept her calm, but come the time of breakfast she heaved a sigh - relieved that the gnome's mouth was too busy for words. Once they moved on, the Druid drew near Pendan, to consult him on the best path to follow. It was boring stuff, so the gnome girl sided up with Brik, and let him try some of her stories. The four had left the forest a little earlier, but the land was mostly flat, and in the distance only another forest could be guessed. Aster figured she knew the hills that lay in the direction they were heading. She never traveled there from the city, though, and neither did she lay foot on those "uncanny" grounds; as she put it. The Wizard, on the other side, had only seen the place on the land's map. And that area was only roughly sketched, towards an edge - the whole horizon being marked "There Be Dragons!" "The map did show a large body of water," remembered Pendan. "But it makes little sense to try and find a way around it, this early." After some thought, he continued: "We are walking away from farmland and roads, although this is not the true wilderness yet. There will be some rough terrain ahead, and dangerous beasts too - I expect... We may have to break up our journey into many small stages then! Perhaps send you ahead with Fann, to scout a little. But for a few days still, the sun and the stars will be enough to guide us - and our way straight." Aster agreed quietly and took distance from him. She needed the solitude. Slowly she drew in the scenery, the air's freshness, nature's scents and sounds. The Wizard's voice had sounded colder and more aloof the further he went - that besides the usual hoarseness tobacco bestowed it. Her soul felt burdened, stained even - one might say - by that... And she was washing it away now. They crossed the open ground and reached woods again shortly after the noon. As planned, they took another rest and a snack there. This time, the Druid argued that the obviously tired-most Fann should rest first, while also Brick has his break. He frowned to show he didn't need it, but wouldn't care to answer back. It was all the same to him. By the next evening, the gnome girl asked for a short stop in between, and the next day these halts increased in number. At noon, the Druid used a few leaves from her bag to make Fann a fortifying concoction - but there was only so little her short legs could be helped with... After a few protests from Pendan - to which the Rogue frowned and stuck her tongue out - the Barbarian just picked her up in one move, and pushed her to the top of his burden. Fann climbed up happily and the party resumed a decent rate of traveling. As they went on, Aster had the realization this was really the best thing to do: The Rogue would need all her strength in the labyrinth - especially if they would, by force, become separated. It was lucky they had that big Barbarian with them. There are so many aspects to a team she didn't had much chance to experience before... The Wizard on the other hand, who didn't even carry a cane or a staff, walked like a much younger man. Aster wondered - and the Barbarian had his indistinct doubts, also - if Pendan was indeed his age... or human. No features pointed to another race, but... well - and that was another tough point - he couldn't be that healthy smoking so much! ...could he? One time she felt the Wizard caught her thoughts in his smoke, and cast a whirl in their midst, messing her mind up. From then on, she was more careful what she pondered on - while near him. But Fann, she seemed to have full trust in her team mates. Nothing in her behavior betrayed the professional she was supposed to be... She seemed a child, all smiles again - now that she was carried, and talked about nothing and all things. All the while, Brik listened to her as tirelessly as he handled the team's luggage. (What was that man made of?!) When they saw water glimmering through the trees, Pendan thought best to stop - even if it was not time yet. It was the lake, and they would be more exposed by the shore. Fann, however, who felt restless - having just sat for quite a while now, insisted that she went down there and looked around. They had to let her, and Aster talked to her wooden friends again - this time to keep watch on the Rogue. Then, at some point, the Wizard joked that he wouldn't put past her to return carrying a bear cub. That worried Aster - animals she just kept a respectful distance from... The Barbarian gave her a quick look and, grunting something about a short swim, upped and went towards Fann. Half an hour or so later, a roar was heard which made their skin crawl - and then another roar, close after. They rushed in just in time to see an actual bear chased off into the forest by an unleashed Brik. Fann just stood on the shore, frozen. The true wilderness that Pendan announced - they had reached it. More than an hour passed before the Barbarian had rejoined them. The bear was long gone, but the rage had changed Brik. And for some reason the big guy felt like... his savage ways didn't befit such gentle company as he was in. So he waited to cool off first. At a look, Aster guessed it would take them a day (at least) to go round the lake - and it was so. That part of the road had its ups and downs: The mosquitoes forced them to stay at some distance from water. But a couple of trips at their supper time brought fresh fish to the menu. Brik had the opportunity to prove he could do more with his big hands than crush and carry. Since the bear event, Fann became more silent. And while Aster could only feel grateful for the change, it appeared to her that the moment of panic left the Rogue feeling ashamed. A compassionate smile bloomed on the blonde lady's face, but for a few seconds only. The thought the gnome girl might later need more assistance than first assumed demanded seriousness. Right then, her eyes somehow met Pendan's. He seemed worried too. At one stop, the Wizard took out a trinket from his bag and gave it to Fann. It was a small cube made of colored pieces. Slices of them could be rotated, the point being to have one color on each cube side. That took the gnome's mind from her failure - her conscious mind at least... Pendan looked pleased - he could see the Rogue in her once more. Animal signs increased as they advanced. Fann now awoke morose and sweaty. To raise her spirit, Aster engaged her in a search for good berries and mushrooms. That caught the gnome's interest - the hidden fruits in particular. They had to slow down somewhat, but it seemed for the better. Then weather changed, and Aster became too busy for anything else other than their safety. The Wizard noticed with interest how she seemed to enter a waking-dream state. Her lips moved, from time to time - as if she was in a continuous spell-of-a-dialogue with the trees. There were rains, but until they reached the woods' end no lightning struck anyway near their group. When it did not rain, the Druid had to sleep - a few more hours than usual. That and the difficulty of moist forest ground made the journey weigh on them all. Well, maybe not on Brik. Nothing seemed to bring down his mood. But Pendan noticed his meals became more consistent - and the pile Fann traveled on, visibly smaller. A day before the week's end, they reached barren land. The four were very exposed now, the rock formations scattered in front of them offering little shelter. When they stopped, Aster said something to her staff, then set it on the ground at some distance from their camp. A new point of amazement, the staff stood where she laid it - as if grown there. And what's more, not only did it catch lightning, but electricity did not seem to harm it one bit. Mornings and evenings were hazy, and Pendan added his skill to the safety effort, prolonging those mists with his pipe clouds. The smoke seemed quite effective against scorpions and other crawlers. One downside of thick fog was they ran often into larger beasts that saw no easier through it. Brik welcomed the opportunity to swing his axe a little. The others saved their strengths - they only had to chase away the animals. They told Fann to climb down - not why. She seemed amused at being cut off from the other's sight, up on the luggage. But they knew - there were beasts with wings as well... Eventually they stepped on grass again. Soon after, the fog cleared - slowly revealing in front of them the hills' slopes. It was a wide range of land curves and scarce vegetation, all quiet and... strange. They all had this feeling the hills were from another time, or world. The sky above was strange too - ever subtly changing from one shade of blue to another. They camped at the hills feet, for a good rest and to observe the hills for changes. But the land-folds seemed possessed by emptiness. Nothing betrayed the presence of a maze up there... All their vigilance was rewarded with was the spectacle the sky put on, at sunset.

 

OOS -- The First Challenge The Challenges are the place of the actual game: Adventurers working together to move past obstacles. It's also possible for each character to take the stage in succession - from one challenge to another - but i think it ideal that, even then, every character would have some contribution. In the next chapter, the characters will participate as they are, and with items mentioned or acceptable in their possession, on general grounds (e.g. a rope in a Rogue's inventory). This type of game however is open to situations where the characters must make a detour in order to procure an item, undergo a change, or cause an event in the world - which will then allow them to succeed at the challenge. Here, the challenges' location and limited time frame makes impossible detours that involve traveling. But being a chain of separate dimensions, practically, the labyrinth can take on the form of a puzzle: The characters can find something in one place to be used in another, so that their path forth clears. Once a challenge is known, i see two approaches possible for the players: either each to first describe the role their character can play in the team effort - then to be decided by agreement, or to present ideas one by one through dialogue between characters. Some sort of agreement, i feel, should be reached before actual action takes place. Intertwined story threads seem better than separate stories with just a theme in common. A challenge can vary slightly as the story advances. That is something the DM may like to insert for variety. An example is given in chapter three. Something else you will find there is a situation where the characters get stuck, potentially due to wrong decisions. The DM then can help the story move forward by means of an external element, which can be tied to something from earlier on in the story - or explained later. 3d330 = 162, 173, 101: platform, grating, tree After climbing a hill, the team looks down into a valley where a strange tree grows. Not on the ground, but floating in the air. Its roots are knitted together - as in a grating. When they engage the tree in conversation, they find out it's one of the labyrinth's gatekeepers (levitating). It challenges the team to unknit its roots, the only means to achieve that being through jumping from one invisible platform to another - up to the Tree's crown. Some platforms move when in contact with - rotating, changing inclination, angle. All in all a dangerous course! Once on the branches, the four would find a tunnel leading down through the tree's trunk, to some point inside the maze.

 

Chapter 3. The Gatekeeper Morning come, they climbed a first slope. It took them a few hours, and once at the top they all needed a longer break for rest. In the distance, they could see only undulations: green, grey, and ultimately black on the horizon. Fann had this funny feeling that they reached the end of the world, and it was actually this infinitely repeated one shape of landscape. She went a little green then, and Aster had to boil her another couple of leaves. Brik got up well before all others and went to look around. He returned to report something "strange". Reaching the sighting's place, they witnessed... a tree - floating yards above a valley's ground. That wasn't natural... Aster stared. They all did. And then the tree spoke, slowly: "You... ...Are ...you ...trying ...to ...distract ...me?" Aster shook off the stupor and stepped forth. Summoning up all her reverence for ancient woods, she saluted, apologized, and stated the team's business - all in one chant. The sound of wind on leaves in her tongue seemed to please the tree, who answered: "Aah... Friends... of... nature... Welcome..." Then it went silent, but Aster continued to hear the voice in her head - at a speed she was more accustomed to. And she thought back, certain the tree understood. Pendan noticed the change on her face, and silently bid the others to wait. After a while, she turned towards them and explained: It was a gatekeeper, the Tree of Wisdom - there levitating. The way inside the labyrinth - one of several - started in its trunk. But to get there - they had to undergo a challenge: to unknit the tree's root-legs. Brik puffed up his chest, in readiness. Aster smiled. That, apparently - she continued - was no task for physical strength. They instead had to navigate a series of platforms - invisible - leading from somewhere down in the valley up to the tree's crown. And that was all the strange guardian would let out. ...Invisible platforms - up through the air... That sounded dangerous, and it crossed Aster's mind that maybe they should look for another way in, then choose. But as if called out to play, Fann rushed down the slope, and all that came out of Aster's preventive attempt were a few words of warning thrown after the gnome. Brik followed shortly, and Aster some time later - reluctantly. Acrobatics were not her thing. Forgotten by all, Pendan - still on the hill top - sat and lit his pipe. Smoke wisps and rolls slightly gathered into small clouds, which then joined into a thin veil of fog. Blowing a few words towards it, the Wizard sent it over the tree and its surroundings. The sheet of mist then slowly descended, lingering on air shapes which no doubt hid platforms. The tree's short cough drew the others' attention, and they could guess the steps before the veil was scattered. "Mmmhhm..." went the tree, and that was the only sign of displeasure. Still, it seemed unwise to repeat the feat... Luckily, Pendan was confident he remembered the platforms' placement. He went down to join the others, who had been tapping air with little success. He stopped by a flat area of the ground, cleared it, and then let out the ash from his pipe and blew over - to scatter it into a sheet. Divided in two, the surface soon represented the platforms seen from above - in one half. Then Pendan quickly figured out a vertical arrangement, and sketched it with his pipe's stem on the other half. Gathered around him, they discussed a potential course. Then the Wizard took ink, pen and parchment from his pack and made a couple of copies. Equipped with one, he went ahead and reached the first platform. Brik helped Fann get on top of it, and the Rogue sought its edges. "From here - to here!" announced the gnome, raising arms in the air to be seen by all. Then the Barbarian assisted Pendan and Aster. "And the luggage?" Brik didn't give much thought to Aster's question. He grabbed the pack and seemed ready to throw it atop the platform, among the others. They all took a step back, raising their palms as if to prevent that. "No?" They talked, and it seemed like a good idea to attach a rope to the luggage pile - later to pull it from the tree. Fann had such an item in her inventory, a coil of thin but very sturdy string. The length may not have been enough to have another end reach ground - from the other side of a branch. So instead of a weight, they used another tool of the Rogue - a hook. The Barbarian swinged this a couple of loops and then threw it towards the tree's crown. It reached. The hook stuck itself onto wood. Brik pulled a few times. The others watched, worried the tree might react. Seconds... It didn't, and they returned to their course. The next platform was supposed to be higher and at some distance from them. Could... Fann dare let herself thrown in the general direction? The idea! Aster reached out with her staff, and - held back by Pendan so she wouldn't fall - managed to touch that next stairway step. Then Fann took out a shorter coil of string and, tied with it, flew from Brik's hands into the air. A roll, as she touched the slab. She was safe. It was the others' turn to be thrown - after again the gnome sized up the platform for them. At the end, Brik threw himself - in a spectacular leap - and, touching air-stone, he gathered into an immobile mass... Not rolling forward, he instead directed all that force through his body downwards. His arteries and muscles swelled, the platform trembled. All looked at him in wonder until it was done. He then just knelt forward to rest, across a few deep breaths. The next platform was to be reached similarly. But... "I can't find it!" said Aster, waving her staff through the air. Pendan frowned, checked his diagram, but saw just what he knew. "It's there, it can't be otherwise." Aster stopped, and - not wanting to allow doubt between them - offered him the staff: "Here, you try then." He did. She was right. Silence followed - all waiting for his decision. Finally, he said: "...Is it possible, that the platforms move around?" All looked down. Theirs wasn't... In that arrangement he saw, the platforms seemed of approximate size. And small differences in dimension were what made him decide their elevation. But what if that wasn't true... "Any more cord and hooks in your bag, Fann?" asked Pendan, ending the stalemate. There was, and a tool similar to what now connected luggage to tree was put together. Its target - the luggage pile, from which a log was extracted and pulled up to their place. At the old man's bidding, a small handaxe served to chop it into a few pieces, which the Barbarian then threw towards a would-be platform. The attempts covered a neighborhood of directions, but there was nothing. Then, in turn, the Wizard pointed everywhere the diagram might have indicated a stone step, at that level. Nothing was hit. He concluded his guess had been correct, and returned to the initial plan. They had to skip a platform. But could they? The old man sat and lit his pipe again. The others sat too. As smoke came out of it, he saw suddenly that - his memory challenged - he gave in to pride, ignoring the old, simple means of detection. He could, of course, use a small cloud to find platforms one by one. The tree wouldn't notice. Of course, that didn't solve the problem of reaching the next air-slab, but it sure helped to see their destination. The smoke went as the Wizard wished and surrounded the platform. They all contemplated their chances to land there safely. More than three yards lay in between them and that place... At Pendan's instruction, from cord and hooks two lines were assembled - then thrown all the way to the platform's edge opposite theirs. At their end, Brik held the two cords firmly, and Fann slowly crawled alongside them, like a spider. The others followed, with more difficulty - Aster almost dropped her staff, once. Brik, however, had to jump - and it looked like he might just barely make it. After pulling and packing the cord, the three already at destination lied down. Aster held Pendan by the middle, and Fann - Aster (for at least more weight). They hoped to offer Brik that little extra force he might need to pull himself unto the platform - should he arrive only as far as the edge. One step behind, knees and back bent - he gathered into a large ball. His muscles tightened... "Aaaarrrrr!" he roared, and launched himself forward. As anticipated, he reached with the upper part of his body - but not his legs. Weight pulled him down fast - his ribs, then his elbows knocked against the invisible stone. His chin was next. Pendan grabbed desperately. Short of falling until only his bare hands could have saved him, Brik tightened up as much as he could. Turning a shoulder, he laid a forearm on the platform. Slowly, he pressed on it and on the other hand. Suddenly, strength threatened to leave him - he roared. He pushed. Somehow, he raised himself enough that his upper body could now bend forward, balancing his legs' weight. Pendan - though dazed by that powerful voice - kept pulling him. Finally, Brik put a knee on the slab and reached the platform's middle. He stood there for a long time, like a wounded beast. Everyone felt exhausted. They were well in the afternoon, and none had eaten lunch. Also, they could not count on too many hours of light now. And that sky... Aster could not tell if it might rain or not. She hoped not... The next three platforms were easier to reach, but - Brik aside - all those close calls and hard landings took their toll on the team. It felt harder and harder to go through that routine. Then came another surprise. Having just landed on a new step, Fann found herself spinning. "It moves!" she cried. They were already as high as the trunk's middle. Was there a choice between a next platform and trying to climb the trunk? Brik proved himself an excellent thrower, but only him and Fann might have been up to the bear-squirrel job. Pendan thought the rotating platform was worth a try. Perhaps it got easier after... With time taken for concentration, the Barbarian managed two more feats of throwery. He landed well himself, and - like the others - fought a tendency to spin outwards. His muscles began to feel the effort - he could still tighten them to act, but felt the drop in vigor following. The step ahead must have moved too. This time not far, but farther from the tree - as the smoke showed. It took the simpler effort from before to get there. But the platform after... Just as Fann touched it, she felt it slipping from underneath her arms and legs. "Aaaaa!" - she yelled, dropping into thin air... The cord was short, and Brik pulled her up almost instantly. So strong was the jerking motion, that she flew up and landed over everyone - surprised and scared. The platform's motion had dispersed the smoke. But it's nature didn't escape Pendan - the thing revolved around an axis. And, well, that was nothing they could use... As diagram and smoke agreed, there was now no alternative to going back. From the spinning platform, they would try their luck with the tree's trunk. Jumping down to a step didn't seem to the others as difficult as their ascension so far - but Fann still did not recovered from shock. They decided she will sit on Brik's shoulders and hold tight. Aster and Pendan helped her climb, then jumped. The Barbarian stared at the platform's center for quite a while, after the two cleared the way. He landed perfectly, but his tired body leaned dangerously to a side - where Aster lay. The push and pull of the two magic-reliers' arms was of little help. It was unto Brik alone to straighten up. And it took him some effort... They gave their bodies time to rest. So that they won't get dizzy, Aster and Pendan leaned their backs onto Brik's. They stood like that more than half an hour. The ends of all cords Fann had were tied onto her. Then Brik got up on his feet, and - synchronizing with the slab's rotation - threw the gnome towards the tree. That hurt, but she soon started climbing which helped at ignoring the pain, a little. Once up the first branch, she tied all her ends of cord onto it. Aster, then Pendan followed - each tied with a few ends of string. They slipped, hurt their palms and fingers on the rough bark - clothes got torn too. But somehow that wonder-cord managed to keep them hanging. Eventually they reached the first branch themselves. One last cord brought the druidic staff back to its master. The big guy slipped and endured pain as well, when he jumped. But he saw how he could have gotten hurt much worse... At the Wizard advice, he had packed the hide which covered his upper body into thick protection for one sensitive part. He felt grateful now, as he was hugging the tree hard with his arms and legs. The lowest branch reached, Brik looked around for the others. "Where is Fann?" he asked. The two didn't notice her missing. "Fann! Fann?" they started to call her, but there was no answer. Brik would have started climbing further right then, but the Wizard thought best to recover their luggage first. This time he felt the string's pressure on his big hands, where superficial ditches had already been dug by previous exertion. Once up, he secured it among branches and resumed his calls, climbing ahead of the others. Why wasn't she answering... After a couple of dozen branches - Pendan had counted - he paused in contemplation. "Any sign?" asked Aster, arriving closely after. "No. Don't you find that odd? How big can this tree be?!" "Fann? Brik?!" From somewhere above they heard something which sounded like "Here...", in Brik's voice. It was indeed odd. After ten minutes it was more than obvious that the tree had changed in some way. Also obvious was that they'll never catch the Barbarian unless he stopped, and they could only hope Fann had just been climbing ahead of them as well... Brik kept grabbing and pushing branches on his way up, ignoring scratches and bough knocks. "Fann? Fann?" he kept shouting until, in an end, he heard her faint voice: "What?!" She had gotten tired, and was lying down along a branch, resting. When Brik reached her, she tried to get ahead of him again, but a firm big hand prevented it. Looking towards the Barbarian, she noticed that Aster and Pendan were nowhere in sight. "Oh, all right, let's wait for them," she said, and allowed Brik to place her on his shoulders. It took the other two a while to climb up there, also because they needed many breaks on the way. "This... tree is... not normal," Aster said panting, as she grabbed the branch Brik was standing on. That itself was another proof of the weird fact they weren't anywhere near the top by now - Pendan noticed. Leaving Fann in their care, Brik went back after the luggagge. He then rejoined them, and they all ate and drank a little. But it was hardly the place to linger in. That entry to the tree's trunk had yet to be reached. They must have been up in the tree for an hour now, when the sun began to set. But by their calculations, that was due a couple of hours later... The sky turned dark quite fast, and - as on cue - they began to feel sleepy. They tried to shake that off, but... it has been such a trying endeavor so far... They slowed down, more and more, feeling sleepier, sleepier... until they all fell asleep where they were. And then all had the same dream. They were down in the valley, now bright with a light reaching out from behind the tree. And the gatekeeper spoke to them, saying: "The... easy... way... does... not... lead... to... wisdom...". They felt pulled through the air, until they reached the tree's trunk, through the branches. Their bodies did not feel as in their power. Slowly, a sense of numbness took over, and they saw branches growing slowly through their clothes, outwards. They knew they were becoming wood. In vain - their attempts to struggle. "You... will... remain... here... with... me... and... meditate..." their half-shut consciousness perceived. And then the dream became stillness... Far, far away, in a dark library room, a man read at candlelight. The pages in front of him were mostly empty, but the few paragraphs there written held his attention greatly. Reaching for his pipe, he let out a stream of smoke towards the words. ...a shadow began to grow on the frozen brightness. With great effort, Aster and Pendan - still in their dreams - turned their mind's eye upwards. A cloud grew, as on the sky, in the distance. "...Lll ...Ligh... tnnning..." Aster thought, but lightning did not descended from above. "...Smoke?" Pendan guessed, without being able to give that flash of intuition word-form. And as his breath was not his, but the tree's now - he joined it and inhaled: that thought, that cloud image, that sky. Slowly, a thread descended, spiraling, down to his now wooden nostrils and deep, deeper than he could be aware of... "Phhhwaaa!" coughed the tree, shaking the sleeping four. "Rrrrhhhh - hwaaa! ...whhwhh..." it shook, and the cough grew with every new breath. Above, the sky was indeed taken by a large swirl of black smoke, and a stairway of spiraling noxious streams was converging down to the tree. Trembling with leaf and root, the tree kept coughing out ill air, while trying to breathe in freshness: "Hwaa - hwaa! Whhhhh..." So strong was the challenge, that the tree had to slowly let go of the four - who then remained hanging among branches, as they slept. The cough current forced them outwards, the inhale drew them closer - closer and upwards, where apparently the main nostrils were. One stubbornly hard inhale and the four got drawn up to the trunk's top, thereafter falling inside it as through a funnel. Far, far away, in a library room, a man followed contently the dance of candlelight on a now full page.

 

OOS -- Introduction as Theme By this time i became a bit worried: Did 'Introduction' just remain an idea at the story's beginning? Upon reflection, i realized it can still be called the Theme, albeit a less obvious one. It was established already that characters undergo what will become written story - the introductory part to a book of divination. What may be needed, to agree on Introduction as theme, is to see more evidence of connections between the introductory part and the rest of the book. Simply put, how can the story of navigating a labyrinth be related to divination? It can, if it shares in some qualities of the latter: A story made of elements found in mysterious relationship, with potential for different meanings which hint to wisdom. The book's introduction would offer it a mythological underlayer: It is the myth that symbolically connects divination means to deep Universal order. And the characters experience myth reality. It may be a stretch, but it makes sense. I'm happy with this solution.

 

OOS -- The Second Challenge The team awakes inside the labyrinth. They will try to find their way forward, but keep moving in circles. In order to break out of that, they will need to figure out some connection between parts of the labyrinth. This challenge will be a puzzle. I'll use randomness to determine the traits of ten zones, including the one the characters start in. It will be more DM work, as the rolls will all be made before the chapter starts - and the challenge structure will be determined in advance. It may take one a few days to determine acceptable meanings, especially when having a theme to comply with. Additionally, the randomness will be felt more in the story: a touch of chaos is hard to avoid, unless some elements* are given less importance in favor of others. (* I make a distinction between story elements and the words picked at random, three each time, which were called 'world elements'.) The previous challenge grew from only one d330 roll. Having ten rolls now does not mean story size times ten. Instead, i will give less story space to each roll and to the connections between their meanings. It is another experiment for me, by which i hope to improve awareness of what can be made with randomness - and at what costs. In the chapter after the next, i will draw closer to my game idea: building on a first roll, then on a second one, and continuing so - with the option of making backward and forward connections. Also, less importance will be given to the rolls. The use of randomness should then seem quite affordable. The Challenge Structure Suppose that every story element indicates an area to pass through and some sort of interaction. For the arrangement of these areas, one could use a classical labyrinth. Another idea is a series of pathways, branching from a main one, and leading back to it, to dead ends, or the exit. Here, i will use an arrangement inspired by the number of rolls and the movement towards a center, from the previous chapter. The arrangement will be the surface of a sphere, with the exit opening inwards: 02, 03, 04, | 02, 03, 04, 05, 01, 07, | 05, 06, 07, 08, 09, 10. | 08, 09, 10. Above, 01 is the point closest to the viewer, 06 - the farthest point. 01-07-06-05-01 is a circle. Circles are also: 01-09-06-03-01, 01-04-06-08-01, 01-02-06-10-01, and 02-03-04-07-10-09-08-05-02. I'll take 01 as the entry point, and 06 as the exit. A couple of d9 rolls could also have decided this. The challenge structure is made complete by establishing some connections between the areas' functions. That can be done before considering the random words' meanings, of after it. The former approach seems easier, the resulting structure considerably limiting the number of variables to work with at one time. Ten elements give five pairs, which i chose at random - with only the idea of an irregular pattern in mind: 02-07, 03-08, 04-10, 05-09, and 01-06 Once the team somehow establishes the functional connections, that will result in something taking place which facilitates their advance. Suppose that 02-07 and 03-08 will provide items or cause effects that will then serve as connectors for 04-10 and 05-09. And the combination of the latters' results will serve as a connector for 01-06, or just as an enabler for 06 - which has the exit point. I may not be able to follow this plan entirely, but it is something to start with. 01. 3d330 = 197, 220, 289: quilt, window, hammer 02. 3d330 = 141, 162, 111: joint, platform, vinegar 03. 3d330 = 296, 290, 306: poker, nail, broom 04. 3d330 = 096, 262, 025: vegetable, leather, droplet 05. 3d330 = 055, 196, 323: highlands, pillow, net 06. 3d330 = 162, 068, 280: platform, smoke, knife 07. 3d330 = 082, 222, 031: gem, curtain, lake 08. 3d330 = 177, 293, 149: pillar, hook, curve 09. 3d330 = 154, 015, 007: spiral, wind, ray 10. 3d330 = 117, 182, 015: paint, stairs, wind Eventually i came up with satisfactory meanings. Some elements were defined before others, some only partially at first. Also, the plan for functional connections got a bit altered: something of 04 got to influence the 02-07 pair. A useful tool in the process was a table where each random word was labeled either: EFFECT, OBJECT, Looks, Physical, or SYMBOL. 'Physical' stands for something of the environment. 'SYMBOL' represents something to act on. 'EFFECTS' can result from interactions. The table had two columns, one for each side of a pair of story elements. Below, you can see an example row:   02           07   joint platform vinegar       gem curtain lake EFFECT Physical OBJECT       SYMBOL Physical Looks The Challenge Plan resulted as follows: 01 - just a place - 'hammers' hanging from sky ropes offer sights of 'quill' covered hills, in between the swings - as through 'windows'; 06 - a lake of 'smoke' at the bottom of which is the exit; that can only be accessed by one able to wield the 'knife', which requires preparations; 02 - where a special bottle is found, which will eventually contain alchemical 'vinegar'; that will temporarily soften the 'joints' of one adventurer; 07 - a range of 'curtains' which represent a 'lake', in the middle of which is a half-liquid 'gem'; that is attracted by the prepared bottle from 02; 03 - an area littered with failed attempts at making 'nails', a small pile of iron bars (for 'pokers') at some point - a magical 'broom' keeps cleaning the place; 08 - a temple made of tall columns ('pillars') sustaining a roof, on the ceiling of which a stubborn cobweb (spider there with pincers like 'hooks', to fight) can only be removed by the 'broom' from 03; the removal causes a hot 'wind' to blow in 10; ropes with both ends set in the ceiling form a sort of trapeze stairs ('curves'); 04 - two areas: below, a cupboard containing various recipients, among them a tiny bottle with tincture ('vegetable' + 'droplet') - that will serve to prepare the special bottle from 02; above, a low cloud as a cave hosts a 'leather' scroll - the knowledge there prepares one for the lake crossing in 06; 10 - a range of fresh 'paint' stairways leading in all directions, one of them being the only means to access the floating cave in 04; for the paint to dry, a wise 'wind' must blow - the wind the cleaning in 08 can release; 05 - a field of flowers above ground level (for 'highlands'), which can also be accessed from 09; flocks of butterflies there can only be caught with a special 'net' - the 'broom' and 'cobweb' from before - to gather inside a 'pillow' case; sleeping on the 'pillow' prepares for the lake crossing in 06 (the 'leather' scroll would have to be read prior to this); 09 - a turbulent 'wind spiral' - which only the most nimble can brave (see 02) - leads upward, allowing access to a the end of a 'ray' which stops before reaching the ground; an invisible pathway there from leads to the suspended field of flowers in 05. More detail will be found in the story itself. It did not seem necessary to emphasize the mythical value of the adventure with hints to gods, giants, or other extraordinary beings. The interactions here allude to the attainment of wisdom. A few riddles will guide the characters.

 

Chapter 4. The Puzzle "Down, Druid! Lie down!" she heard, between whizzing sounds, while rising on an elbow. The Wizard's voice evoked peril, so she trusted him more than her sleepy eyes. Soon after, the blur was gone and she saw the shadows turning into large swinging hammers. They... hang from ropes, the other end of which... disappeared in the sky. And they were everywhere, it seemed. "To your right, about two feet... Can you crawl there?" The grass softened her slide. In the distance, she saw the same pattern of hills after hills... The place reached, she rose - with caution, until she could sit on the ground. Aster looked around. The others were scattered about, not far from her. She remembered the fall... Her body did not hurt. "Was it just a dream?" All around, the green sea touched the horizon. No sign of the rocky wasteland they arrived from... or the tree. She met Pendan's eyes and felt he was reading her thoughts again. Through smoke and whizzing, he said - as if answering: "Yes, I think we're inside the labyrinth, now." "When you get up, look there," he added, pointing in some direction. From where she sat, it was just the sight of swinging hammers over endless hills. Aware of a slight daze, she shook her head, and took out of her bag a little leaf to chew. Strengthened, she got up on her feet: "What did he..." Then, to her surprise, Aster also saw, in the distance - through intersecting ropes, as many windows - the hills turned to color and intricate patterns. It looked... as if a quilt had been laid on the ground, there. She turned, and in another direction saw a similar change of the green and grey - a different set of colors and designs each way. Some intersections showed nothing, though... As she was contemplating the sight, the others gradually drew towards her, running through hammer swings. "Where now?" sounded Fann's short warble, when they finally gathered. Her fresh voice reminded nothing of the trouble they've just been through. She smiled, and her red face suddenly awoke in Aster an appetite for apples. It was just then she began to notice how refreshed she herself felt - and hungry, as after a long sleep. Her belly seconded that with a soft growl. Brik had arrived last, carrying their luggage. Having detached his great axe from the pile, he now eyed one of the nearest ropes. But Pendan laid a hand on his arm, and said: "We better not. Who knows what this place really is?" A bit disappointed, the big guy gave in and turned towards Fann and Aster. They had opened the sack, and were already nibbling on some fruits. After having a bite himself, the Wizard lit his pipe again - but the smoke revealed nothing different of the landscape. So he bid Fann choose a colored destination and - after three small packs were refilled with refreshments - they navigated that way. She had picked pale tones bordering on white, which upon their arrival proved to be lines of stone blocks. Some shined in the light of a sun which could not be guessed above. Others were grey with shadow, and across most of them had passed the tarnish brush of time. A partial enclosure protected some... vestiges. Walking past a few steps, they reached the raised floor of what seemed to have been someone's home. Pots of various shapes, mostly broken, lay by the walls. Turning, they saw what must have been a ruined kiln, and... there was something inside it - a bottle, also of ceramic. It was intact, but other than being set aside there, it did not stand out in any way. Pendan picked it up for a closer look. He turned it around and, eventually, noticed something on the bottom - an etching. It seemed familiar... "Hm," he let out, after some minutes. "This is of alchemy. It means vinegar." The others blinked. Some pot pieces had markings on them, but they turned out to be only illegible scratches. It seemed there was nothing else to be done there, so the Wizard placed the bottle in his pack and led them further. Walking in the same direction, they reached a hill where a flight of steps started. It lead to a round platform which... somehow stood suspended over the next valley. Below, they could see only smoke - in clouds, or waves, thick - filling the land bowl. And through it, as through a lake, these... black shapes, reminding dangerously of sharks. They braved the steps to reach the platform, in the middle of which stood a stone table. On top of it - a dagger. They all thought: "altar". The dagger's hilt was covered in symbols, and Pendan took to pondering on their meaning. After what seemed like hours, he discreetly signaled the Druid to approach. "Can you make anything of this?" he said, passing the knife. Aster tried, and behind her closed eyes meanings did begin to appear... "It says... this is the dagger that cuts through the darkness. But only one who is pure of mind may wield it..." She then opened her eyes and looked at Pendan. "Well, that means there is something down there... something important," he answered - and they both gave the lake another long look. Back on the hill, Brik and Fann were playing dice - she was winning. "What took you so long?" came her trill. Ignoring the question, Pendan said: "We may have to return here later." Then, looking absorbed, he started a path around the smoke valley. "Pure of mind... pure of mind..." From afar, they saw glitter of many colors - then long shapes... structures of some sort, arching in all directions. A peculiar smell welcomed them. Close enough, they recognized stairways, and then found that the steps were covered in... fresh paint. In fact, the stairways seemed to be... made of it, and nothing else. As if an artist's fresh work, frozen in time... They continued forward, through loop shapes, roller-coasters, or gracious lines reaching for the sky - suddenly stopping, or losing themselves in the distance. Then they saw hammer pendulums once more... "It couldn't have been the same place from before, could it?" It seemed they had walked in one direction - but they did so without a constant reference, and quite a few hours had passed... Be it the same or a similar area, they decided to eat something and rest before they attempt to cross. So far, light had not changed in brightness. It was daytime, and - as they were to soon notice - that remained so. Thoughts of that also - leading to the hypothesis of a double nature of time - bothered Pendan, who was trying to piece together everything they had encountered. The region they crossed seemed vast, and they had no idea how much it would take them to see all. And at the same time, that must have been the maze - albeit one without walls - so there should be an exit, somewhere... Fann in front, they again found a route through deadly swings. Half a furlong or so in, keeping the direction, the ropes windows revealed to them the same pale tones and white of far stones. They all knew what that meant and agreed on trying another horizon. Aster chose far blue. Finally there, they found the sight of a water wall to be curtains - a wide range of them. Where they hanged from, it was too blurry to make out. They were covered in ripples and irregular patterns of blues and greens, with embroidered fish that actually swam! A curtain touched, and they rushed away - as if scared - or curiously circling the hand. The material was moist, and long enough held it escaped the hand, as water would. The first touch had also caused something else worthy of wonder - a thought unveiling like a scroll in their minds, reading: "How can a lake's water be taken out without harming the fish?" Pondering at, or playing with it, they advanced through until reaching a curtain which stood out. From a distance they had seen the change in color and occasional glimmer. Up close, it turned out to be a gem's representation - its colors rich and deep, its edges blending into the appearance of water. Try to grab it and nothing would come of that but a wet hand. They did try a few times, then gave up and continued towards the curtains' end. After, to their surprise, they encountered the smoke valley with the suspended altar again. Adding one and one, Pendan declared that was no coincidence. "We have not been walking in circles. This is... a sphere!" Then, as they went forward around the vale, he sketched a map of the whole region in his mind. The memory of in-between ropes sights suggested only a few more places left to visit. And then he will be able to work out a plan... ...Subtle strips of perfume wafted their way to the four, and thin waves of color welcomed their eyes. Above a wide hill, flowers grew at some distance in the air, and flocks of butterflies moved from one area to another. What land they grew from, that eyes could see through could not be guessed. They passed under the flower bed, feeding their eyes on that delicate sight until the hill ended. Then ropes and hammers, again. "Of course," let out the Wizard, and - lead by him - they went around the area this time. They headed then to what he remembered as the horizon of pink tall lines. He was right and they proved to be columns supporting a roof high above ground - so high they could not see the ceiling clearly. Ropes hanged from up there, with both ends, the bends at their lowest points as steps for whoever would dare to climb. The whole place impressed as a temple would. Fann volunteered to find out if anything was beyond their eyes' reach. With Aster's words to "be careful" behind her, she let Brik raise her to the lowest rope, and then climbed alongside it, stopping from time to time to rest. She had just became a blurry dot when they saw her descending rapidly, then jumping to Brik's catch. "Spider!" she cried, and from the expression on her face, it was a big one. The Barbarian smiled - he had missed the action. After letting the luggage down, he strapped the axe to his back and jumped to the first rope. Then, from rope to rope, swinging where distances required it, he reached the top. The others heard a muffled roar, then something - a body, fell towards them. It wasn't Brik, but a black monster with eight contorted legs - two partially chopped. At their ends, pincers like hooks, and the body... Fann felt like throwing up. Nausea leaves were administered. After a while, the big guy reached ground. He had been wounded, and by the looks of it endured some pain during his descent... Aster took time to treat him. That ditch in his arm looked poisoned, and she used most of her remaining leaves to patch it up. To that she added a strand of her golden hair. Later, unknown to all, she shared his suffering for a while. Treatment done, he reported grumbling that it all had been in vain - nothing up there but cob and web. They moved on, just Pendan wondering if there was more to the place. The smoke valley. Everyone had by now gotten used to the sphere idea. They went ahead, leaving behind the altar and thoughts of what sacrifice may eventually be expected of them. In the next area, floating under the sky was a small cloud - unusually low... Below, just standing there in the grass with nothing else around - a cupboard. Behind a glass door they could see many containers lined up on shelves. It had a lock - which the Rogue made little of. Then Pendan looked at the bottles more closely. Some were empty, although they had labels, and liquid traces indicated they must at one time have been full. Others had gas gathered right below the cork, in a dense mist, and the Wizard wondered if that had anything to do with the cloud above. One flask in particular drew his attention. It was tiny, hidden almost entirely in the shadow of neighboring vessels. He had to lit his pipe so the smoke would magnify the writing. It said: "Tincture", and that understanding of meaning echoed, for a moment, in and about him. "Strange..." Before continuing in the chosen direction, they walked around the cloud and found a cavity on one side. It seemed hardly probable that anything could be found inside it, and since there was no apparent way to reach the cloud, they gave up the thought - for the moment. Then - the hammers on ropes. Pendan remembered a sight of grey indistinct turmoil. Brik felt drawn to that and took the lead. A barren portion of land let out - through a crack, it seemed - a spiral of turbulent, violent wind which lead high into the air. The storm was so strong that even Brik felt held back while trying to reach it. No one could stop him from trying, and - after entering the flow - he was thrown away, after just a few feet of ascension. Then he lay there for a full minute, worrying everyone. "Are you hurt?!" asked Aster. The Barbarian got up slowly and sat, rubbing his arms and neck. He felt... odd, as if the wind had torn at his flesh. Done massaging, he got up and stretched. Cracks. "I'm... fine," he replied, not sounding convinced. High above, in the center of the whirlwind, there was something that seemed important - for its oddity: a beam of light stopping in the air, not touching the ground. But there was no way of reaching it, it seemed... They all looked at it for a while longer and then continued. None of them gave another thought to the smoke filled valley when they passed around it. After another series of land ups and downs, they reached a dale littered with... pieces of iron. A broom kept sweeping them into small piles, as more appeared out of thin air. To a side, there was another pile - of iron bars. The small pieces looked like attempts at forging nails, but none was good enough to use as such. Fann picked one up, and from the moment she touched the thing to when he raised it to eye level, a thought became clear to each of them: "How do you make a nail out of an iron bar, without blacksmith tools?" As the riddles before, this one also hang in their mind long enough to become solid memory. "Well, how do you?" said Fann, turning to the others. "Hm..." came Pendan's late reply. "Whatever it is, it must have something to do with that broom." Then, facing Aster, he asked: "It must be made of wood. Can you sense anything about it?" Aster tried, but... "I'm sorry... something is blocking my mind..." she replied, with a tinge of trouble on her face. The magical broom - they tried to catch, whatever the use they might find for it later, but failed. Always sweeping, it moved too fast for them. Certain they can achieve that, eventually, the Wizard asked that they postpone the chase. It seemed to him that what they needed first was a plan - now that they most likely had seen all there was to see. They agreed to make camp and figure out what was needed to progress. The solution to any of the riddles could have revealed a maze exit, but then it could also have been an intricate puzzle they faced... The Wizard pulled out more writing utensils from his pack, and laid down a map of his observations. He then placed the few sheets of parchment in their circle's middle, for everyone to see. Brik tried but each time ended scratching his head and looking at someone else for a clue. Fann sat thoughtful, her head resting on her palms - her face sunk in shadow once more. The smoke around Pendan again took on strange shapes. Aster meditated, eyes closed...

Chapter 4. The Puzzle (continued) Far, far away, on a book page, words had stopped appearing for quite some time now. Worried, the man reading at candlelight, gave it a little nudge of a fillip. A clink sounded faintly from Pendan's bag. Shape scattered out of the smoke, the Wizard turned his attention to it. "Critters?" There weren't, but his hand stopping on the 'vinegar' bottle, he was surprised by a sudden "what if?" The team listened to his idea. Brik shrugged, Fann frowned, and Aster agreed that his guess matched the strangeness of the place. Heading back to the lake of curtains, they again reached the gem embroidery. The bottle raised towards it, that half-liquid stone slowly let itself be drown out and flow in between the ceramic walls. They had just been 'drawing water out of the lake' it seemed, as the Wizard had a sudden flash of memory as next clue: "the Philosophers' Stone..." ...Which it was not yet alchemical 'vinegar'... His mind then flew to the cupboard with many bottles. They went back there, and the Wizard experimented with their contents. Each time one was opened, its small mist matter rose to join the low cloud above. A drop or two of the stone then and waiting. And each time, nothing happened... Well, he did make some gold and silver, among other things - but there was nothing that would suggest a puzzle solution... Lastly he remembered the tiny flask. "...Tincture - of course, that's vegetal!" he thought, and opened the container. He quickly reckoned the obvious fact that there was only one drop of the substance. "No room for experiments..." he observed, looking with regret at the empty glass bottles. And, nothing else to do, he let the drop of tincture onto the stone. By the time the others awoke from a short nap, something had grown in the 'vinegar' bottle. The smell had changed, impressing Aster - who had just approached hoping for news - with a delicate memory of the forest. Now, what to do with that... plant? The Druid tried to commune with it, but got nothing of it. "A baby tree," she said smiling, "that grew apart from others. It just babbles and it couldn't know anything." Feeling useless, Fann started playing with her dagger. Brik felt no better. He rummaged through the sack and took out a chunk of tough, preserved meat. Then he started to chew away the waiting. The meat smell reached Pendan's nostrils. The Wizard turned his head and then... he saw in his mind: "vinegar... tough meat... softening... ...storm?" - and the rest he inferred. Eyebrows rose to the notion that a potion would allow them, or one of them... to survive the storm. Then they could reach that beam of light that did not touch the earth and then... who knew where that might lead them? But the potion was not yet ready, the Wizard informed them, and they fell back to how they felt moments ago - bored and useless. Aster was out of place too, unable to feel nature around her - even if there were what looked like grass and sky. To obtain that alchemical concoction, the Wizard knew from the old books he now had to focus. He lit his pipe to relax the mind, and applied his gaze to the bottle. Time passed - an hour, two? Pendan had to interrupt his concentration a few times, to refuel the pipe. Did anything happen inside the bottle? The smoke revealed nothing... The Wizard called Aster and asked her to talk to the plant again. Minutes later, wonder took over the Druid's face. "It changed, it... grew older. Oh... it has lots of things to say now, it seems..." Aster revealed, and smiled. "Mostly youthful nonsense and dreams... It dreams of things it never saw, of other trees, of forest springs, of birds..." she added, her smile changed by a touch of regret. "...Well," Pendan grumbled, considering their options. "I am afraid there is no other way," he added, and then said - to Aster's surprise: "It should not die. We'll take it out of here with us, if possible, and plant it in a forest on our way back." She thought she sensed warmth behind that harsh sound his voice again grew to. And he continued to stare at the bottle. Once more Aster checked, this time to report - with bitterness - that the tree had become mature and was full of sadness: "...All the things it did not get to experience..." But their vinegar must by now have been ready. And one of them was to drink it, but whom... Brik volunteered - he had a score to settle with that storm. Now, there was of course the risk of serious damage to the body, so they decided to try just a few drops of the liquid. On the way to the wind spiral, the Wizard began to wonder also how long could the effect be expected to last. What if he had to get back in the same way... Spiral reached, Pendan took out a tiny cup from his bag and measured the drops inside it. Then Brik drank. A change was felt almost immediately - his body lighter and, with that, a sensation that air began to flow through him... Then he reached for his great axe and his arm twisted funny! It took a bit to get over the shock, but the Wizard assured him the change will keep him alive in the whirlwind. So he jumped in. As a swimmer moving with a wave, he plunged and turned with the current's whim. His body did not hurt, but it was hard work keeping it from twisting too much - as well as following the wind's motion. Eventually, the spiral took him in one piece to the ray's level, and then he made a faith leap. Unexpectedly, he landed on a stone slab - invisible - as those around the gatekeeper, before. The others followed everything with bated breath. "There is a path!" he shouted, and to his embarrassment the changed vocal cords made that sound funny. "Well, see where it leads!" cried out the Wizard, and they followed him on the ground. It lead to the suspended flowerbeds. The Barbarian had found his way little by little, tapping invisible stone with his foot. Now the flowers showed him where to step, and he tried not to step on them... It was an odd sight for the team - the big guy tiptoeing, butterflies about him. At an end, he shouted again: "There's nothing else here!" and his voice was beginning to sound normal. "Hurry back!" urged him the Wizard. "The potion's effect begins to wear off!" Brik remembered the pain from before, but how to hurry back... He stepped on a few flowers, almost fell twice on the invisible path, then - lastly - jumped down into the spiral. It shook him somewhat, and it was hard work to jump out of the current to a lower level... He reached the ground safe but exhausted. Pendan was worried, but not for him. "There must be something up there... Flowers? Butterflies?" - He had no idea what to make of that. The Barbarian opened his fist to reveal a captive insect. It flew out of there and sat on Fann's head. That tickled. Aster felt something about it - both fresh and old, magical, as of primordial nature. But then the little thing took off in the flowers' direction... Pendan counted the areas they had not achieved anything in, so far. Of all, the broom's valley seemed the most promising destination: "That broom must be playing some role in all this!" This time they tried to surround it. Stretching lengths of Fann's cord they approached the broom from different directions. The magical thing seemed to stop, at one moment, and look at them. It then knocked the Rogue on the head and slid past their barrier. Then they went and scattered the refuse piles. The broom saw that - no doubt, but wouldn't approach to clean. They pretended to step away, and it came. But jumping towards it lead to nothing - except Pendan's hat flying off. Frustrated, Brik kicked the pile of iron bars, Fann sat on the ground arms crossed, while the Druid began using her staff as a hockey stick. Pendan pulled her sleeve - the broom had noticed the gentle strokes. And... what do you know! It came straight towards Aster - intent on punishing her, it seemed. One knock! Another knock! Aster defended as well she could, but that territorial broom wouldn't let her go easily. One over the fingers was too much though. Her blonde hair puffing with rage, the Druid stroke as hard she could. But in a blink the broom rotated and caught the staff in between the straws. Then a quick swing was to throw Aster to the ground, when - out of nowhere - Brik's large hand took hold of the magical thing. The broom had to declare itself defeated. Now what to do with it? To... clean something? But what? Aster tried, but the stubborn thing refused to talk - clouding her vision as before... Then Brik had an idea (!) and the Wizard felt like patting the big guy on the back: There still was a spider's web high on the temple's ceiling. Quite a few minutes after he reached the top, the others sensed a change in the air. A warm wind had begun to flow from the temple, leading... somewhere in the distance. When the Barbarian touched ground, he presented a broom with a clump of web chunks at one end. "Sticky," he said and gave it to the Wizard; let him figure out what to do with it! The wind was the main attraction then, and they followed it. Reaching the storm spiral, they saw how gentle it had become... But the warm wind blew farther, all the way to the fresh paint stairways. And there the color had started to dry. In something less than an hour, all stairways were ready for adventurer feet. There were a few leading far into the distance, and Pendan bid them choose one. Then, as it was found to end into thin air, they returned and tried another, and one other - until, eventually, steps brought them before the sight of the low cloud with a cupboard far under. As they approached, the cavity looked more and more like a cave. And they walked in as inside walls of rock to find - spread on a cloud shelf - a leather scroll. Pendan approached it with eager eyes, but again he found his knowledge baffled. The markings resembled those on the dagger's hilt, so he let Aster take over. At her touch, the letters shined dimly. She felt like closing her eyes and soon seemed to have entered a trance of sorts. Her face looked serene and peaceful, and when she came out of that state, a discreet smile had flowered on her lips. "What does it say?" asked Pendan. But how to answer that... "Many things... all at once... it's... hard to put into words..." was all she could say. But the Wizard saw what she meant: The scroll had passed her an understanding of some kind. He wondered... did the scroll set her mind to that state the dagger inscription called 'pure'? Aster broke his thought line: "Should we take it with us?" She reached for it, but at her touch the leather surface let letters fly like small butterflies of light. One made a detour to Fann's head top before disappearing. "It seems there is something else before us, until the end, and it involves those butterflies," said Pendan. "And they chose Fann... for some reason." The Rogue gave him a look. Back they went to the wind spiral, which now softly pushed their bodies upwards - and they all flew up to invisible ground. At the flowers, Aster took the cobwebbed broom like she was supposed to - but by the look on her face she had no idea what for. It felt like a stretch of imagination, but... "a butterflies net?" wondered Pendan. Well, they tried to use it as such, in turn, and failed - the little beings would not get anywhere near it! Then Fann took hold of it and - to everyone's surprise - the broom revealed its magic again by turning into the net they had guessed. "Oh good, that web made me itch something terrible!" heard Aster in her mind. And she had this impression of eagerness to play. Pulling Fann after it, the web started to chase butterflies - and to everyone's large eyes the gnome... flew over the flowers, her small feet touching the petals as lightly as the wings she followed. Butterflies caught, what next? They should gather them somewhere - they thought. Pendan took out a silk handkerchief from a pocket, spoke over it, then - holding it by a corner - shook it to reveal a broad sack. The little things flew in and he closed it. Then again, and once more, and more - until the sack got filled. It looked... well it looked like a pillow now. "Hmm... pillow..." went Aster and lost her balance. Brik caught her - she looked sleepy, and grew heavy in his arms. Following through with the strange obvious, they laid her down the flower bed, the sack under her head. The plants welcomed her weight, entwining with the leaves lines on her vestment. Soon her eyes started to move under closed lids, and her face smiled - revealing a beauty she usually kept hidden from the world. It evoked in everyone's mind images of serene, enchanting landscapes, and a sensation of calm and rest surrounded their bodies. How long her sleep had lasted, they lost measure of. When she awoke, she said: "I saw the lake's bottom. There is a portal... I returned to take us all through it." Brik helped her get up and they went back to the wind spiral, which now conveniently had changed direction towards the ground. Then they reached the smoke valley. Aster took the knife from the altar and gave the staff hand to Pendan. He took Fann's in his other, and Brik caught the little gnome hand between two fingers. Together like that, they jumped. The descent was slowed by something, although all they sensed around was thin smoke. The black things accompanied them, but from afar. And harm had come to none, as they approached a dim light - which grew, and grew to look like a wide mirror, then a window to some other place. They touched it, they passed through. Smoke alone remained on this side of the portal. Far, far away, in a library room, the reader let out another smoke puff and turned the page.

 

OOS -- The Third Challenge In the following chapter, the story will be developed little by little. The DM will roll for traits of a new area, define it, and then the characters will interact with it. Sometimes the random words may be used to define passages to next areas. Other times, they can be taken to indicate changes forced upon the characters. Different meanings of one word can lead to different story paths; which here may remind of the versatile interpretations in divination. I plan to demonstrate all these, but will depend on inspiration to achieve it. Also, there will be at least one fighting scene, where a simple use of the six-sided dice will be exemplified. The end of the chapter will be reached after i feel that enough has happened. The Challenge Structure will be a series of areas, some of which can be crossroads, others - dead ends. The decision to reach a dead end depends on the potential of a previous area to open another path. A special notation will mark the moment of reaching an area. The format will be: 'A' followed by the number and the list of other connected areas, in round brackets. The list may increase with new opened pathways. For example, A19(2, 8, 16) means that area 19 was reached, from which connecting passages to areas 2, 8, and 16 are known to exist.

 

Chapter 5. The Labyrinth [ A1( - ), 3d330 = 270, 103, 224: saddle, sap, grill ] Heat. Each got up as fast they could. Afraid their feet would soon hurt, they started to raise one, then the other... They had to move out of there. Were they still in a valley? It seemed that way, as far as the night allowed them to guess. Past some trees, slopes rose and became lost in the darkness. Above, a distant sky let out the glow of only a few stars. Red was the hue the earth's breath cast on their legs. Red and hot. The Barbarian helped Fann find refuge on his shoulders again. Then he walked or jumped towards a hill side. Aster followed Pendan to another. Brik tried to climb, but slipped. He pulled his axe out and stuck it in the earth wall. Then heaved and landed a foot on the edge-less side. He grabbed earth, he pushed. Then the axe went out as if thrown and landed on the ground. The big guy soon followed. He turned towards the others. They did not have more luck. With little respite to consider their situation, Pendan looked up at what seemed unfinished hills. Then the trees called Aster. Or so it seemed to her, as she instinctively turned towards them for assistance. She went to one. "Did she imagine that?" All that feet tapping was too distracting. One hand on the bark and a branch was lowered. She hopped on it and was raised from the searing ground. The others followed her example, Brik needing the joined effort of a few neighboring branches. "It was not a way out, but what else could they do?" Their thoughts soon mixed with the sense of a fresh and pungent aroma. Their clothes, rubbing against trunks, had been smudged by... "tree sap?" Pendan took a small blade out of one pocket and tried to scrape it off. And right then... he disappeared! "Where did he go?!" threw Fann, visibly panicked. "The sap..." replied Aster, applying her staff to the glue. And 'puff' she went! The Rogue and the Barbarian left the scene right after. [ A2(1), 3d300 = 287, 73, 220: vise, marble, window ] Darkness. Hands reaching forward grabbed something... curtains. Pulled aside, these revealed a large hall dressed in marble, velvet, and elegant woodwork. Tall windows let light in abundantly. It looked... like a castle's ball room, with only ornamental furniture lining the walls. They started to advance, at random, towards the room's center. A few steps in, they heard a muffled groan, the floor and chandeliers trembled lightly, and... they saw the wall opposite to the windows move! It advanced slowly and ominously, with the harsh sound of stone scraping on stone. As one they started to run to the other side of the hall, where a door could be seen. The wall must have advanced a yard in when they reached it, and then it suddenly stopped. Brik took the handle and pulled hard. That threw him back a few feet, the handle still in his hand. The wall started to move again. "Back!" shouted Pendan, and when the Barbarian once more stood against the door wall, like the others, he showed him: "See? It moves only when we step out from the hall's perimeter." But they had to try the door again, so Brik took a step back and kicked. Then he tried hitting with his great axe. Nothing. The door just would not let them get out! "The windows?!" - Pendan pointed towards them, and they started to advance - backs to the wall - past statues and benches. First window. Fann tried, but she could not reach the latch. Then the Barbarian felt like just smashing it with the axe. His great weapon got thrown back just like at the door. More stone scraping. Aster bid Brik help her climb his back, and she proved tall enough for the lock. But it wouldn't budge... Nor did it offer any visible way to temper with it - Fann would have tried. "Were they stuck there?!" They went to the next window. This time, the latch gave to the lightest touch and - panes pulled aside - a current of fresh mountain air reached their nostrils. But, looking down, Aster got dizzy and was in serious danger to fall! Brik sensed that and grabbed her legs firmly. "...It's ...We are so high it seems - I could only see clouds, then one moved and... the depth was unfathomable!" she said, after the big guy helped her descend. "What to do now..." Pendan thought they should check the moving wall too - and all the walls, for that matter - as there could be secret passages. That took them a while, but in the end they could just stare back at the open window - the only apparent exit. Nothing better to do, Aster asked Brik to help her try all the windows. Of course, that didn't make any sense to Pendan, who chose to remain behind and light up his pipe. Fann followed the others. Two more windows seemed meant to remain closed. Then one opened and... to everyone's surprise, it gave out to a completely different sight: another wall, with a ladder - a few steps of which were missing. Brik wanted to see better. He went back and brought a bench, but it broke under his weight... Then, before anyone would think to stop him, he jumped and grabbed the window frame - then pulled himself up. The rest of the window seemed to be of as insensitive a material as those shut had, since it sustained him. From that place he told them the ladder was accessible and was leading upwards to some place too blurry to make out. There were a few more windows left to check, but it sounded like they already had a good way out. The big guy descended to help them climb. Fann's cords and little hooks secured the lighter team members contact with the ladder - until they reached the steps above. Last, the Barbarian leaped and pulled himself up behind them. For a while they saw nothing but stone and metal bars. [ A3(2), 3d330 = 43, 208, 21: valley, word, water ] "Trap door!" cried Fann, "there's a trap door up here!" She had no strength for it, so one of the others would have to try. Pendan had climbed after her. He approached, but it was difficult work getting past the gnome. Not calculating his moves right, he almost pushed her off the ladder... She grabbed his beard and a little foot landed in one of the many pockets. Then Fann re-balanced. But the Wizard could not open the door either. It was impossible, of course, for Brik to move past any of them. When Aster approached, they all looked at it as their last try. Pendan had to descend first, and the Druid lady go past him. She wasn't very deft either - her staff, missing the old man's eye, hit his hat square in the brim. Luckily he caught it before that would have become a skill in acrobatics, and - both embarrassed - managed to survive the moment. Then all looked as she knocked the trap door with her staff. The door trembled. The staff trembled in reply. "What's happening?" asked Brik. "Shhh!" went Fann and Pendan, while Aster frowned for a second. She was concentrating. "They talked," she soon let them know, but hesitated to continue... "That door wants a riddle solved to let us through. But... the riddle is: What's behind me?" she said, slightly pouting. "A room" / "Another door" / "A valley" ...and later even "A tree?" / "A chimp in a tree?!" and the attempts continued with little success. The door just went "no" / "nope" / "uh-uh" (Aster's translation). For most of them it became tiresome to wait, hanging like that on the ladder. And the whole thing became rather annoying. Fann's brow began to sweat. She freed a hand to wipe that off and shook the drops carelessly towards Aster. That was hard to put up with - given the circumstances, and the blonde lady let out through her teeth: "Thanks... I have my own sweat." The door trembled: "What did you say? Mayo?" "I said my Own, my Own Sweat!" replied the Druid loudly. "Oh, sweat - that's close!" went the door. "...Drops?" / "Water?" - The door confirmed they were getting closer. That water was on the other side was hard to imagine, but they continued with associated words and - finally - someone said "Boat?!" The door graciously let them through. One by one they climbed inside what indeed was a boat, and - taking seats towards the edges - they noticed with great surprise they were on a river, floating at quite the speed. The trap enlarged to let Brik through and closed behind him like it was never there. The shores were not far and they could see the scenery changing a lot while they traveled. "Should they stop anywhere?" they kept wondering. Until the Barbarian guessed cataracts, that is. And thanks to his vigorous strokes - the great axe as a paddle - they reached safety, free to continue where luck would have it. A few yards from the shore, a fire was built to dry Brik's weapon and for everyone to enjoy the encouragement a little warmth can bring. The coolness from the river mixed with hot air. Eagerness to go on made way for some tiredness. Nearby, nature seemed to doze away, swinging at times in a light breeze, some flowers open, others closed, the high grass... Something stirred there. They saw a shadow, and then that it was a snake. It stopped at a safe distance and said: "Sssssss...." - which sounded a lot like "Aaaaah..." - "Firessss... Letss mewarmsbyitss, willsyouss?" the cold blooded creature asked. Dangerous as it might have been, a snake who talked could prove useful - the four agreed with their eyes - and, Aster moving near Fann, a spot was made available between the men. The snake slid forward and lounged in front of the flames. Pendan placed apple and jerky slices on a large leaf and bid the scaly guest indulge. "Sssso kindssss..." said the snake and gobbled down the food. Then smiled and laid its head on the ground, blinking sleepily at the fire. "So... what might be past the tall grass? We plan on heading that way," the Wizard said. "Ohssss.... Nothingss," replied the snake slowly. "...How do you mean?" tried again Pendan. "...Nothingsss ...nothingss isss ...nothingsss," the snake answered in a tone of surprise and seriousness, greatly tuned down by the flames' drowsing effect. If true, that wasn't good news... They might just have to face the waterfall after all... "...Wheresss areyouss headingss?" the snake thought to ask. "Out, of here, and then of the labyrinth," answered Pendan, simply. "Labyrinthsss... Iknowss nothingsss ofnos labyrinthss," was the snake's reply, and it continued: "buts Icanss helpsyouss getoutss ofheress." The reptile shook of the sleepiness, coiled and rose. "Iamsss thespiritsss ofthevalleyss," said the snake, "andsiwillsss helpss youss kindspeoplesss!" Blur caught their eyesight and they missed the moment when a skin was shed - then they saw clearly again. "Thisiss medicinesss," taught them the spirit. "Yousss makesss teasss ofitss andsdrinksss," it added, and fell asleep - after what must have been an exhausting effort. Slowly after, the saw with wonder how the reptile became shadow again. Then, mixing with the those of the flames, it disappeared. The first thing they did was to check if indeed there was nothing behind the vegetation. And they could see nothing, as far as the entangled plants allowed them to pass. Brik tried cutting them, but they grew right back... They returned to the fire. With little choice left, Aster followed the snake's advice and boiled pieces of that skin. They drank and, somehow, their senses attached to the liquid falling down their throats. Down, into darkness - and they knew nothing thereafter. [ A4(3), 3d330 = 292, 39, 11: peg, puddle, rainbow ] "Pitt... pitt-patt!" Water drops letting go from the edges of wide colored sheets hanged to dry, falling, touched the surface of little puddles. [i]"Were they on the ground? Was that the sky?"[/b] Everything was more a feeling than something material. The sheets, waving in the breeze, displayed so many landscapes - but around them, nothing: a wide bright space the ends of which they could not guess... They felt... colorful. As they started to move about, the colors the four felt changed. They called for each other. "Here! I'm here!" came Fann's answer, but Pendan could not hear the others. He walked towards her. "Fann?!" he again shouted, as he entered darkness. "Here!" came the reply, and her voice sounded closer. He kept walking and there was light again. And Fann was right in front. "Where are we?! Where are the others?" asked the gnome girl, visibly troubled. "Hm..." started Pendan, "As odd as it may sound, i think we're... in a puddle," he replied - and wished he could light up his pipe then. "...A puddle... Are we fish now?!" wondered Fann. "No, I don't think so," the Wizard quickly dismissed the notion. "As for where the others are... well... I can only guess they are in other puddles. But somehow they did not hear me..." he continued. His voice was becoming, by habit, cold - and the gnome looked at him worried and discomforted. "It's a theory but... how do you feel now? Or rather, what color would you say you feel?" asked her the Wizard. "...Blue," answered Fann pouting. "Blue then... I don't feel blue, and you can still hear me... I wonder..." said Pendan and then, cupping his palms around his mouth he shouted: "Do you hear me now?!" The gnome stared at him for a few moments and then asked: "Did you just say something?" - "I did," replied the Wizard, and continued: "I think I know what's going on." He then explained that shouting was somehow not heard outside the same color feeling. And he bid her call the others. No answer came however. Pendan didn't give up and asked Fann to get angry at him. She stared again, so he told her she has short legs and slows down the team - that worked in the past. And indeed, it put some red in her cheeks now too. "Good! You should be feeling purple. Now, think plums! Think plums and call the others!" Fann did, after throwing the Wizard a few unkind words. And to their joy they heard Brik's loud reply. A few "Here!" and "This way!" after, the big guy found them. The explanations did not reach more fertile understanding ground in him either, but the Barbarian bravely submitted himself to the Wizard's experiment. He raged, then let Fann's presence temper him down - ranging from red, to orange, then yellow. And when she had climbed to his shoulders and put her little hands on his eyes, he even felt green. And then they heard Aster's calls. Rejoined, they decided to stay with green and go from puddle to puddle until reaching an exit. Far, far away, in a library room, a man sat before a page filling with words, absorbed in the reading.

Chapter 5. The Labyrinth (continued) [ A5(4), 3d330 = 3, 181, 272: moon, railing, reel ] Darkness turned slowly, slowly to dim light. High above, they could see a large, bright moon. A few more steps forward and out of empty space they saw shining forth pale lines. They seemed like borders of a stairway's many levels - leading up towards the luminary. Alongside the ascending pathway, a creature worked it's way up and down - a spider, they discovered, building the stairs a railing out of its silk. Having approached a bit more, Fann's foot almost on the first step - they were met by an irritated hiss: "Don'th lookch! Don'th lookch!" - the spider came towards them waving its front legs in protest: "It'sh noth readyh yetch!" "Let me take care of this," the Barbarian grunted, pushing the others aside. "Wait..." Pendan's word and hand stopped him. Then, turning towards the Druid, he said: "You talk to it. Ask if we can pass with eyes covered." Awkward and holding her staff tight, the Druid staggered forth and tried: "We're... sorry to disturb your... work. We'd like to walk up the stairs. If we'd cover our eyes - would you allow us?" "Whatch?!" cried the spider confused - "No, we won't watch," cut in the Wizard, from behind. "Aaah! Youh makech funh ofh mech!" hissed the angered creature and started towards them at great speed. There was no time to lose - Brik stepped in front of Aster. Right then, the spider had launched itself forth. Landing fast on his face, it bit... [ 1d6 = 1: failure (1-3) ] ...but apparently had reached only an eyebrow. It shot back coughing the few hairs it pulled out: "Ghhaa..." Annoyed, the Barbarian leaped and swung his great axe... [ 1d6 = 3: failure (1-3) ] ...cutting a few web strands, but missing the arachnid. "Aaaah!" went the spider, attacking his legs... [ 1d6 = 4: success (4-6) ] ...and it quickly spun around them a few times. Then, shooting back, it escaped another axe swing. Brik's attempt however was enough of a push for him to lose balance and fall... Aster, then Pendan, let forth their magic... [ 2d6 = 4, 1: success (4-6), failure (1-3) ] ...a few sparks jumped out of nowhere and were caught in the web. The threads there began to melt. Having just dodged the Wizard's vortex - which then got lost in the intricate pattern of spider-work - the creature rushed, hissing, to repair the damage. "Noooh! Youh monstersh!" Out of the dark, the gnome then let a needle out of the blowgun... [ 1d6 = 5: success (4-6 ] ...which hit the spider square in the head. "Aaaarghhh.... Ch-ch!" coughed the maligned artist, turning towards the moon for one last look. "Myh masterpiecech..." it went, then contorted, cowered, and fell - tensing its legs. "Hm... it thought the moon was his creation!" spoke first Pendan. "I wonder..." he added, looking intently at the sky light. They helped Brik untie the ankle laces, then walked up the stairs. Fann only stopped to recover her weapon - it seemed she had even hit an eye! Unfortunately, after a few dozens steps, it turned out the spider was not crazy - what they took for the moon, was indeed another web. Whatever was sharing its light with it they could not determine... It looked like a dead end - darkness all over as there was - so they returned to the puddles. [ A4(5); area 3 no longer accessible ] "Should they move towards brighter, or darker colors?" Fann said from the start that she is not in the mood for blues. For yellow then, they joined hands and - thinking of the moon from before - let the feeling set them on the right path. And the path led... [ A6(4), 3d330 = 15, 247, 288: wind, clothing, press ] ...to an end of the clothesline wire. There was a lot of motion. After getting used to the sight of giants, they noticed that some where pulling one wire to hang wet sheets, then another wire to send them away to dry. Others were collecting dry sheets, yet others operated large bowels to cause wind to blow towards the several racks. Some giants laid on tables the dry sheets to press them, using great flat irons. And others gathered the pressed clothes and folded them in a strange way... Launched by their hands, the folded sheets glided around before flying upwards - eventually disappearing on the sky. "That's our way out," whispered Pendan - who had quickly judged they had little chance surviving an encounter with giants. A hovering sheet was just approaching them. A thread hanged loose from an edge. At the Wizard's nudge, Brik caught it. The others grabbed his legs and up they went. From below a giant noticed them and a hand wave passed dangerously close, but they escaped. Soon after, the laundry yard's noise was left behind, and they found themselves approaching clouds at great speed. [ A7(6), 3d330 = 198, 322, 242: cupboard, thimble, basin ] A hand shape drew itself on the bright background. It seemed like light itself was reaching for the sheet. The shape was continued by lines losing themselves in the distance - a body, which the sheet covered. The heavenly being noticed them just as the bath-gown was put on. Shaking away some last cloud rolls from hair strands, the being walked away from the bathing basin. Then hands opened a cupboard. Needle and thread were taken out, along with scissors, a pincushion, and thimble. The heavens were soon taken by a wandering hum, as the celestial pondered on where to sew the four: "on a pocket, the collar, or maybe the bath-gown's belt?" "And they thought the giants were dangerous!" The Wizard looked towards his pipe pocket. He couldn't have freed a hand to reach it, let alone two to light it up. He tried breathing some cloud in... The sky-being noticed the white blur which was growing around the decoration and effortlessly dispersed it. No chance there... Thread was already pushed through the needle's eye - apparently the celestial having had made its mind. The situation was critical! Aster closed her eyes, and wished hard. Her hands, which somehow held both one of Brik's legs and the staff, sent a message of storm and rain to the clouds. They listened. A sky corner darkened and a lightning bolt was released. The hum was interrupted by a sudden thunder. Surprised by the prick, the being's hand threw away the thimble. The needle, inertia carried, almost pierced light-flesh. Taking advantage of the distraction, Brik pulled hard - taking them up the thread, to the edge of the scenery depicted on the bathrobe. A hand was reaching for them. They jumped in among embroidered birds. Powerful sunlight and warmth touched their feathers but could do little else. They flew, they glided, and - calling for one another in geese talk - they stranded from the formation in a group of four, cycling closer and closer to the ground... [ A8(7), 3d330 = 324, 91, 212: fan, grass, book ] A wind howled somewhere in the distance, then coils of air caught and threw them around, noisily. Their sense of balance lost, wings fluttering in vain, they found themselves falling. Green soft blades were mixed in the image rotating before their eyes, and soon they landed - quite abruptly - on heaps of fresh cut grass. They were, it seemed, in a garden. The wind was bringing everything there in a state of disorder. Upon a bench, nearby, the pages of an open book were shook and slapped to one side then the other. "How fortunate!" thought the Wizard, who had already begun to feel too feathery in the head to be comfortable. With a honk, he drew their attention. Then, flapping his winds, he landed on the bench. More honks and jumps around the book. But Aster just stared and blinked, Fann shook her head doing all sorts of noises and pecking her feathers, while Brik went decidedly after bugs. "Were they already being taken over by goose mind?!" With little time available, Pendan covered the book with his wings, and - turning pages with his beak - began to read. He read and read, and - to his relief - not only did his mind recover full sharpness, but his body slowly transformed back to normal. Once he put two human feet on the ground, he felt one of the geese biting his ankle from behind. It was Brik. He took him in his hands and looked for the others. A bit of a chase later - luckily, at least the wind having stopped - the Wizard had acquired all three birds. Carrying them in his arms, he returned to the bench and asked them to read. All he got in return was stares, some hinks and honks and hissing, and even a few annoyance bites. Then he read to them. Soon, however, that proved to be of little avail... The Wizard put the book in a pocket, and - armed with three noisy geese - went walking along the garden's paths. [ A9(8), 3d330 = 132, 191, 286: wing, floor, grinder ] Turning a corner, he saw - past some tress and high fences - the lines of a large mansion. But approach it he could not... If anything, the alleys seemed to take him further from the building. Moving from one to another, he kept looking in the building's direction... At one moment, he passed by a breach in the living fence - a hole barely large enough for his body. It looked like a blessed shortcut, so Pendan pushed the geese through it - one by one - and then forced himself past tearing branches. On the other side, they were welcomed by a variety of gentle aromas. Advancing, the smell grew in intensity, and with each breath the Wizard felt them entering his mind like a torrent of thoughts. Soon the others' heads were leaned against his breast and shoulders in sweet sleep. Himself, he fought the thoughts. He managed to take hold of them, but then... a moment of distraction and there they ran once more. Soon he found himself fighting also the beginning of a headache... That went on for a while - Pendan struggling all he could - when eventually he began to feel too tired to continue. There were no benches around, so he reached for a tree, and then - finding his way towards it with eyes half closed - he rested with his back against it. Head fell forward, legs slowly slid away... When he woke up, he was hugging a goose on the left, one - struggling during a bad dream maybe - had climbed his hat's wide brim, and... Aster! Aster was on his right. "Wake up! Wake up Druid!" he cried, shaking her with his free hand. "Uhm... what... what's happening?!" mumbled she, rubbing her eyes. "You're back," said Pendan, tempering his enthusiasm. "No doubt, you had a strange dream," he added. "Yes... Yes, i did..." replied Aster, not sure how that might interest him. She got up to her feet and, seeing the birds, remained staring at them. A strange feeling told her that might not have been a dream... "Are those..." she began. "Yes, and such were you for quite some time," replied the Wizard. "This tree, i think, may have something to do with your return," he said and searched for his pipe. "Where's my staff," asked Aster, looking around. Raising his hands to start the smoke, Pendan remained for a bit watching her back. Then he lowered his eyebrows and went through with the motion. "You might want to take a look at yourself in that pond," he told her and sunk himself in a dark cloud. "Wings? I have wings on my back?!" she discovered. She tried to move them and they responded. Flying, though, didn't work... Fann coughed and woke up a smoked goose. "Quonck!" she let out, and launched vengefully at Pendan's hat brim. He took the hat off and shook her away. Left on the ground, Brik was taken for mound by an adventurous slug. One beak clap - then he too awoke. "I've been carrying you all for quite some time," said the Wizard to Aster, massaging his forehead. "Perhaps you should take charge of Brik here for a while, he's quite heavy." Aster agreed, silently. The thought that she might be stuck with those wings troubled her, the staff was no where to be seen, and there was also the fate of their companions... Resting a palm on the tree that helped her, she thanked, then sat next to the old man. "No staff, eh?" he said, adding: "No provisions either!" Aster's mind slowly began to make way for the smells around. Their potency from before seemed to have greatly diminished - but of course, she remembered nothing of that episode. Instead, she browsed through them until picking up "...apples!" She went past a doorway in the hedge and returned some minutes later, with a lap full with fruits. Everyone ate, and - the short feast ended - Aster and Pendan noticed how much the goose Fann's smile reminded of her from before. "There must be some way to bring them back," began the Wizard. "In your case it was the tree's influence. A book helped me earlier. But for them..." Pendan words ended like his thoughts, in smoke. The headache meant something, he was not himself... Aster's attempts at a solution, brought him back at his mind's front-line. "...when fighting. So maybe if we... anger him somehow?" concluded the Druid. That seemed like a good idea. Then Pendan had a thought - at the cost of renewed pain: "And maybe we can trigger his memory of strength somehow... With a great weight to work against, maybe." They got up and he showed her the mansion in the distance. Then, a goose hugged or carried underarm, they started towards it. In a next enclosure they found a stone pot, out of which grew a bush of flowers. They managed to push and roll it down without breaking it. Then, one of Fann's cords was taken out of the Wizard's many pockets, and Brik was tied to the pot. Druid and Wizard both now had beak marks and bruises on their forearms... Dodging wings and beak - not always successfully, they further went about annoying the savage out of the gander - tickling him, pulling on feathers. The bird steadily became red with anger, and - flapping its wings hard - pulled towards them, even budged the weight. But it didn't seem to work... What's more, they both saw how the cord was wounding the bird. They jumped and - hugging him from both sides, as in a boxing match - waited until the struggle stopped. Aster shed a tear. Brik felt like biting them hard for a lesson, but gave in to the hug. He had recognized them. Then, untied, the feathered body swelled. And swelled... and kept swelling! It grew until Brik was as large as before, only still gander. The two looked at him with a mixture of puzzlement and remorse. He just petted them on the heads with the beak and honked. Fann came out of a hideout to hiss at the immense bird, then hink happily - after recognizing a team mate. Aster and Pendan looked at each other: Both their memories seemed to be on the way back. As if taking on its role of flock protector once more, Brik warbled at them, and pulled them under his wings' safety. Fann, he seemed to have trouble finding the right place for... then with a joyful honk he craned towards her, picked up and threw the goose Rogue to his back. Right then they changed to their normal bodies - Fann with her arms around his neck. After a round of congratulations and encouragements, they went forward. It seemed the transformation had not been complete with the two either - as sometimes honks came out of Brik's mouth instead of words, and Fann had this tendency to express feelings by pinching. "But at least they could rely on each other again," were Pendan's thoughts, among head pangs. One hedge archway passed under, they reached an area of ground paved with flagstone. One foot on the first slab and the Wizard collapsed.

Chapter 5. The Labyrinth (continued) [ A10(9), 3d330 = 294, 267, 172: pliers, rope, drain ] They rushed to pull him up. A pallor had taken over his face, greatly highlighting his smoke chiseled features. "Water! They needed water!" - "There is a pond close behind us," said Aster. "Let's take him there!" But as hands pulled in one direction, the suddenly thinning body poured in the other. Soon all they were left with were his clothes, and Pendan trickled among the slabs. "We have to catch him with something!" cried the Druid. She crouched and tried to stop the flow with her hands, but the Wizard ran past them. Fann, who had climbed down, found in his clothes' pockets the little cup from earlier on. "Too small..." The stream reached a place where, for a second, it seemed to be collecting - then, hope changing to despair, they saw how it disappeared into the ground. "Quick! Help me see what's down there, Brik!" yelled Aster, and started digging with her fingers around the stone. Brik's fingers were much too thick to get in between the slabs, but the pressure he could exert on an edge was big enough, it seemed. Slowly, the lid was raised and they could see a round hole - apparently hand made - which the slab had covered. "I can pass through," said Fann, readying her cord and hook. But the idea was dangerous... The big guy pushed her gently aside and started to enlarge the entry. Then he reached rock... and there still wasn't enough space for him to pass through. He tried punching and kicking, but only managed to chip off some dust and gravel. The sound of falling onto low water echoed from below. They needed light. Brik tore a few branches from the fence, and Aster made sparks appear with a snap of her fingers. The improvised torch then revealed what looked like... a sewer. The Barbarian endured the burn for a few seconds, but no later the sheaf had to be dropped. [i]"So there was water, and a tunnel which lead who knows where..."[/b] It was quickly decided that Aster - who now could pass through - and Fann will brave the darkness without Brik's assistance. He helped them gather as much kindling they could carry, then helped them descend into the darkness. The Druid lit up a bundle, to see - in the short time it allowed - where the water was flowing. Then, Fann first - her rogue senses as a guide - they slowly touched and heard their way forward. Footfall, plash, ripple, silence. A worried honk of encouragement sounding somewhere behind - the echo took on strange notes while dying away. Nothing. Then, suddenly, a jerk of Aster's bag strap. She reached for it quickly, and got bit. "Hey!" - she turned towards Fann, "Stop pinching!" she cried. "What?! Aaaah!" was the reply. Aster reached for a sheaf and snapped fingers. Flame burst - "Rats!" All over the place. Fann fought one who had landed on her head. A few were climbing her legs. Aster too had a couple hanging on her bag and she shuddered guessing their feet' tap in other places. But the little beasts were just as surprised, suddenly facing the light. The Druid started shouting and kicking, waving her fire until it was extinguished - then starting another one fast. Fann managed to shake her lot off, enduring a few bites and scratches. The dagger in her hand, she stepped behind Aster to cover her back. Kicking and stabbing the air, they advanced. One loud squeak and the rats scattered and disappeared. Silence. The two could hear their hearts pounding. Time passed. The short-light bundles greatly diminished, Aster thought best to face longer periods of darkness. Rat attacks recommenced, this time guided by caution. Out of the silence, a light thump sound - then the echo of pain in their bodies. As pulled by strings, the assailants were disappearing before they could be reached. Then again nothing, for a short while. The tunnels ran indefinitely. Only a few sheafs left now, the Druid thought of trying something extreme. With the Rogue's dagger she severed, sighing, another strand of her golden hair. She coiled and fastened it around a short stick from a bundle, then leaned over the water. Whispering in wood-tongue, she slowly drew a circle with that wand. The water trembled slightly... then changed. Aster lit up another quick torch. Accompanied by a chorus of surprise squeaks, the light's reflection changed into a picture - orchard leaves on the background of day sky. And daylight came in from that image as through a window, taking over the area they were in. Fann looked at Aster. It seemed safe to rest there, but the Druid must have been after something else. She continued to stand over the image whispering. The gnome moved towards a wall, where she could take her feet out of the water and lean back. Some minutes later, something did happen. She thought she saw... she moved closer to make sure. No, she did see the branches on the other side moving and... they whispered back to Aster! The Druid reached with her hand... passing through the water window. Then the hand redrew holding the many-leaves end of a branch. It had fruit on it, a couple of peaches. In the surrounding darkness, pairs of tiny eyes blinked repeatedly and many bellies there joined in a rumble. The two shared the fruits and stored the hand of twigs for a new bundle. Aster then reached for more, when - squeaks! More squeaks! A frenzy of them - and the Druid turned to see a wave of rats running their way... ignoring their blows... disappearing down in the other direction. A lucky few had fallen through the water window. "Were they running from something?" Splash. Thumps. Heading their way. Fann looked at Aster - "Should they run too? But they would have been sure prey in the darkness..." They readied themselves to face that creature, whatever it was. The sound drew closer, louder, shadows moved and became shapes - and there it was: a crocodile! With jaws open, it launched itself forth through the sparks. They stood no chance against it... The beast turned towards Fann. One second, one jaws clap and she would have been gone. With no time to think of consequences, Aster pulled her and then forced the gnome through the orchard picture. Right then, the trees - having sensed the danger - were letting out through the window a cloud of wasps. They went around the arms deep Druid and straight into the beast's mouth. A deep groan shook the tunnel. The jaws snapped into air, then opened to reveal a greatly swollen tongue. The crocodile threw its head and tail around in violent motion. It bumped into a wall, then ran into the darkness - chased by needles and pain. [ A11(10), 3d330 = 218, 65, 68: closet, lava, smoke ] "Fann? ...Fann?!" - No answer came from the orchard. Aster's hands reached only foliage. "Did she lost her?!" She calmed herself, hard as it was, and whispered to the trees. After a while, they answered: "Her companion wasn't there, with them". Dark thoughts assailed her mind. "Will she ever see them again? Was this the end for the team?" Aster looked forward: "Should she continue the search for the Wizard?" She looked back: "The crocodile went that way, and the rats. But Brik was still there." She continued forward, falteringly. There was still a chance to find Pendan, she thought. "What would Brik say if she returned alone..." - A feeling of guilt was tempting her, making her steps unsteady. Soon the smells announced foul water. "How ever will she find the Wizard now?!"A raised border began to her right and she climbed it. Aster advanced, heavy with the feeling that it was in vain. She often had to redraw now before streams falling through gratings in the wall. And there were various tunnels leading in different directions. She was about to turn and head back, when a strong smell of smoke and cooked food had mixed in with the sewer's usual. She lit one of her last bundles and saw steps leading to a dark doorway. She tried the knob, but the door was locked. Out of an impulse, she knocked with both her fists. Moments later someone was working on the lock. "Fann?!" She tried the door again and it opened, but there was no one on the other side. She entered a small musty room, with a few pieces of furniture which fell rotten to the touch. A curtain led to more stairs, then another door - which was open. Aster entered what looked like an alley. The smell of cooking drew her past the intersections of a few more alleys, until it grew strong around the end of another flight of stairs, going down. The buildings so far, she passed by as in a dream. She had looked up and around a few times, but had only a vague memory of what she saw. The steps descended, she entered a kitchen. The place was bustling with activity: Cooks and various servants were hard at work to prepare a feast. Someone saw her - alarm calls. The biggest white dressed fellow there raised a ladle and cursed her: "Vagrant! Thief!" - then shouted: "Get her!" Aster turned towards the door and pulled, but the knob remained stuck. With no time to think, she climbed a table, jumped through waving knives and rolling pins, and - knocking down a boy servant who was just entering with a tray - she rushed out. An elegant hallway. Stairs to the left. She took them and then ran until reaching another flight of stairs. Servants from below could not easily follow her up there it seemed, for she had a brief period of safety to decide her course. But soon there were voices again downstairs, continued by someone's steps coming her way. She entered the nearest door. No doubt now - she was in a rich person's house. The steps' sound approached. She entered a closet. The room's door opened. The thought of having left a trail of dirt or feathers crossed her mind, her heart replied. But whoever that was, closed the door fast and went to a next room. She sighed. After a while, she felt it might be safe to exit. She looked around: "That must have been a guests room." Decorations and furniture were sparse. On a small table though there was cake... Aster first went to the window, thinking she might have to escape that way. To her puzzlement, she seemed to be at quite an altitude: She could see far across the lines of a large garden. [i]"Could that... have been the garden they parted ways in? This - the mansion seen from afar? ...Brik," her mind went, until disrupted by body weakness. She felt like she was going to faint. The cake... the cake seemed so alluring... She staggered to the table. Her hand shaking, she sank the tablespoon into molten chocolate. A rich smell enveloped her nostrils and then she fell. Far, far away, in a library room, the book recording their tale had reached another halt. The reader reclined in his chair, mixing thoughts with pipe smoke. There was nothing he could do now to help...

 

OOS -- End of Chapter Notes It seems i could have achieved more with the last chapter, if i did not rely only on inspiration. Who can say in advance where that will take you... Besides, there are also tendencies to work against - like progress linearity, focus on one or a few characters, the importance given to combat, and others. Perhaps the best way to go about building a random story is to establish some key areas in advance. That would have secured my demonstration of group vs. group combat, other uses of the success or failure rolls, and different meanings opening different paths - as desired. Of course, i have a few more chapters left to experiment in. As it is, the previous chapter appears like more of a passage - the challenge, to keep going forward. The large hall with many windows and the puddles area offered return points, as also did - potentially - the garden. But the story made little use of that - at best suggesting the wideness of the labyrinth. And the transits from one area to another were - for the most part - unexplainable, leaving potential players little option in deciding their course. I found room for only one instance of dice based combat. Compared to the other situations - in the sewer and in the kitchen - the spider encounter seemed more balanced and open ended. The fight was a matter of gaining advantage over the opponent before striking decisively. The way that was attempted was left to everyone's inspiration - instead of predefined means. Suppose something like hit points would have been used in the characters' definition. Then, against many opponents - as were the rats and the kitchen help - the characters could just have survived, while looking for an escape. The decrease in hit points may have inclined their judgment more towards taking the first apparent way out. But that can also be determined by surprise events, fear, or hunches - in which case, the hit points would have served only as means to alarm. Against an overpowering opponent, like the crocodile, the characters' hit points would have made no difference. And fighting, or running were not solutions. I used DM intervention, but based on the portal idea - expectedly an initiative of the Druid's player. One thing about potential failure situations is that the characters should have some resources to handle failure. Besides DM intervention, the next farthest option in a fight is to get help from a team mate. Then there might be some means of defense that the character can trigger, if the initiative passed to the adversary (by having failed); counter-attack being also possible. It seems proper that failure solutions come at a cost: raise a shield but lose mobility, roll out of danger but be vulnerable to other hits - or unable to counter-attack etc. Outside of fighting, potential failure again would imply that alternate courses of action are possible - and perhaps at the price of some penalty. I see those situations where an obstacle too great for the characters is encountered - when they must make a detour to obtain the means against it - as a particular case of the above. Even in a magic infused environment, where many odd things can happen, there would still be a need for realism - for something to rely on, for obstacles to be overcome in a credible way (else avoid). And when a less believable solution is allowed, there should be consequences to face, right then or later on. Those can be negotiated between DM and players. Yet... as for me writing here, a game should be a relaxed and enjoyable experience - and that may require closing an eye, at times, on stretches of the imagination. I wonder... how many tricks did my characters get away with so far without me noticing?

 

OOS -- The Fourth Challenge The previous chapter reminded less of a myth and more of a wandering along story paths strange to both the characters and a wisdom inspired purpose. That may be said to indicate a level of raw, basic connections - in the labyrinth-hills dimension. The characters may also be said to have entered such paths between divination elements that - on the surface - could not make sense, but exist... Regardless of interpretation, with reference to the story theme the chapter appears as more of a detour. Thus, a first task for the following chapter is to inspire again a sense of an order of meanings - perhaps even one of a higher level than in The Puzzle. The symbol i will try to make something of is the mirror image, the reflection. I propose that such a level was reached where things make less sense independently - and more when reflected one in the other. That can apply to the characters also - their efficiency depending on how one reflects the other, or understands the other. If so, it need not be something of more personal consequence to the characters than any of the events so far: It can be just another obstacle to get past. Order in story structure is another task. That will result, partially, from the evolution of events - in as much as i can foresee it. At the beginning of the chapter, i have the characters separated, and - given that i am more interested in group dynamics - i anticipate a course that brings them together again soon. Another source of order will be the pre-established demonstrative functions of certain key areas - places where i intend to give more examples of randomness use. The structure will be only partially predefined, thus: At the beginning of every stage of the challenge, i will establish a number of areas in a straight line which define the extent of the stage. The last area will constitute the limit. That will be the place of the obstacle, which may occasion demonstration of a game method. When reaching the area before the limit, i will roll both for its elements and those of the limit area. In short, in 'L-1' i will roll for both 'L-1' and 'L'. This should be sufficient for preparing the events of the target area. Of course, if a roll seems to disagree greatly with the idea i have intended for a limit area, then i can diminish the structural role of the random words. Alternatively, i can forgo rolling for areas if inspiration drives me in a clear direction. Unless guided by inspiration, i will not look past the next stage or sub-challenge. Also, the extent of every stage - longer side paths allowed - will be three or four areas in a line. These two choices should keep the controlled approach to randomness simple and efficient (while the unknown of side paths can keep the players guessing).

 

Chapter 6. The Reflections [ OOS: Each character wakes up in another's body-psyche, with no memory of the team or the mission. They will (separately) face obstacles, against which they will have to use the body-psyche's means. No rolls for areas here - they are chosen to host obstacles usual for the characters. ] Daylight. White ceiling. Where was she... "Why was she on the floor?" Fann turned her head slowly and spied around. She was alone. She tried to get up, when... Her mind paused. Something funny was going on... Those weren't her clothes! and what was even more worrying... "That... was not... her body..." Her heart started to beat fast. She got up. She was taller... and... clumsier. There were no mirrors around. Her back hurt... She reached for it, instinctively, and... got a handful of broken feathers. "She had... wings?!" Her hand let go of something that hit the floor with noise. "A tablespoon." Her eyes raised to discover a table nearby. There was cake. "Did she eat that?" Her belly answered. "Oh no, she's not touching that again!" Hunger - she can bare for a while. She felt... rested. Fann's mind took on simple, familiar patterns, making the burden of those circumstances lighter. She tried taking control of things: "So she was... in a strange body, in a strange place. Okay... What could have happened?" Some strange magic must have been at work... And her real body? She shuddered to think... "You don't suppose... this body is ill, or cursed, do you?!" It seemed... fine - as much as she could perceive past the strangeness of not belonging to it. "Or... perhaps she was on some unusual assignment. Yeah! That could have been it!" - although she could not remember ever taking on such a disguise to enter a house. The room was elegant - the place no doubt belonging to a rich person. Fann felt quite comfortable with that belief and with getting into her trained, action oriented thinking. She searched around... There was nothing of value. Next thing - she tried the door. It was locked. She barely let out a snort, but then... reaching for her tools - she realized she had none. She shook those robe sleeves hard and tapped her body all over - nothing. There must have been something she can use. But that room was rather sparsely furnished. The closet was empty... She picked up the tablespoon and approached the lock with its handle. "Aah... butterfingers!" How could she have agreed on such a clumsy body?! What now... break the door? That didn't seem wise... The window! Fann went towards it and saw it gave to her hand. (She didn't have to climb the sill to reach it - small comfort.) (A side glance at the revolved glass spotted long hair. Her fingers brought to sight blonde strands - "Hm...") Looking out, she noticed the height she was at... She had no rope - though she could probably improvise one from a curtain, but... with that clumsy body of hers, acrobatics did not seem advisable... A leaf brush interrupted her thoughts. "That's funny... I didn't realize that branch was so near," thought Fann - staring at the tree in front of her. "Maybe..." - and just as she thought that, another branch stretched towards her as if... she was offered a step. "Get out of here!" went the Rogue, pulling herself back from the window frame. The leaves outside fluttered - and she had a strange sense the tree was puzzled by her behavior. It looked like there were more surprises in store for her... Fann tried again to remember what kind of job she was on, but couldn't. "Well, whatever it was, she better be well paid!" said she to herself, building some confidence. Then - with no other options - she allowed the tree to guide her hands and feet. She followed the branch towards the trunk, but... as she advanced, she quickly found herself surrounded by leaves - soon unable to say where branch and trunk were! The tunnel led forward, wherever that was, and she kept walking... - - - Aster woke up feeling heavy and cold. It was night and her perception was foggy, as if she hasn't really awoken. She slowly got up from... the ground of earth and grass. Her body seemed bloated, her movements impeded by... something - as if she was swimming. And then she realized how... big she was now... "Did she chew on some wrong leaves?" she wondered. Well, she didn't feel sick... There was no pain... But while checking her body, she quickly sensed something quite troublesome: "That... felt like... a man's body!" What could have possibly happened to her... She had no recollection of where she was or how she got there. Could well have been on one of her wanderings, Aster thought, but it surprised her she went to sleep without some tree nearby - for protection. And that body... maybe she was under some spell... She tapped the ground with her foot. It seemed safe and there was something that felt like rock - her senses were rather dull... A hole - she found - inches deep at most. Then she advanced until her hands reached some vegetation. "A fence? A garden fence?" She pulled a few boughs out of that fence and snapped her fingers at them. A few times... but no sparks appeared. It seemed... she did not have her powers... All her discoveries began to add up to worry and she made efforts to keep her head cool. "So... it looked like she was in another body... a man's body, strong apparently - but one not attuned to the powers she was used to..." Can she conclude that? The boughs and leaves said nothing... "Perhaps, perhaps if she would reach a tree - then she will be sure," Aster thought and kept seeking her way through the darkness. Where the fence ended, she passed into another area that seemed no different than the first. Then another. And then she heard the sound of running water and went that way. At some point, no fence would have guided her further, so she just stumbled towards the cheerful stream sound. That big body - she just couldn't get used to, and she kept losing balance. But it would not allow her to get hurt: Ran by some inborn instinct, it always corrected her posture before she would fall... She reached a tree before she found water. But what disappointment... It was as silent as the earlier boughs and leaves. Her step slowed down. She had never felt so lonely before... Her life had changed to something completely different and strange, and she knew not why, or how. Her vision narrowed - she kept walking but each step highlighted the feeling she did not belong to those circumstances. Each step was like a bad dream's recurrent fall to hopelessness. The night went on towards a distant day... - - - "...specimen ...colleagues ...demonstrate ...success" - Brik woke up to the sound of distorted words. Water. Or whatever it was - he was floating in it. And breathing in it too, it seemed... A half-transparent wall in front of him let through shapes of a room. Where was he? He tried to move but could only barely turn his head, wave his arms and legs. His body felt... and looked strange. A painful flashback reminded of flowing through some narrow channel... Was that how he got there? Wherever that was... Another attempt to reach the glass wall - one big push - and he felt tired. That just wasn't right. Any moment now: His rage should take hold of him - and then he'll burst out of there... ...but apparently that wasn't going to happen. Now he was worried. "What have they done to him?" That body... "Was it good for nothing?!" As if in answer, water wobbled around his fingers slightly. Shapes in the room moved farther and soon he heard the sound of a big door closing. He nudged his body again. A little later, water again wobbled. He focused. Somehow that seemed easier than he remembered. Soon he saw with surprise that he was able to maintain the wobbling and... it was extending - from his fingers along the arms. Brik had no idea what he was doing, but he kept doing it, he kept that focus. And the currents joined at his chest and countered each other and fought and turned around until... a vortex slowly grew out of that struggle. And once it did, in seconds, the water took to shaking so terribly that it broke the transparent wall into hundreds of pieces - bursting out into the room. He was free. The fall hurt. He got up - not as fast as he was used to - and jumped out. He almost wounded his leg on the wall's remains. He was dressed in... a robe - it got torn when he crossed. And he was... wiry. He looked around quickly. There was no one else. He seemed to be on a stage, there were rows of benches going up a slope. A middle aisle led to the large door. He tore the wet robe more, against the many pockets' seam, and ran towards that exit. Past the door, a dark long tunnel. At the end - light, noise as of many people. He'll brave that, whatever it was. If only he'd have a weapon... - - - Pain woke Pendan up. Before he knew what was happening, his body jumped out of the way of another... "brick?" There was smoke rising from the floor, pools and streams of colored liquid among pieces of broken pots and bricks. He looked up. The ceiling had a large hole in it, but smoke seemed to have gathered up there - he couldn't make out anything else... Another piece of the ceiling broke over his head. He threw himself aside at the last moment, but tripped and fell. Right then his body rolled, sending him back on his feet. It was then when the Wizard discovered he had grown... short, and into a different set of clothes... "Oh..." and it seemed there have been other changes, as well... But he knew that spell. He redrew by a window - where the ceiling seemed safe - and incanted: "Elebor! Aradun! Omerob!" His voice sounded as he would have expected from such a body. But he didn't let that distract him. He waited. Seconds passed... "Elebor! Aradun! Omerob!" he repeated, but the new accent and doubled focus made no difference. "That must have been the spell..." He had imagined the right succession of symbols too... By the looks of it, some accident happened in that tower room and he was suffering the consequences. The thought he might be stuck with that girl body for a long time made Pendan frown. There must have been a solution... He'll find out what went wrong in there, first. The smoke! Big breath in. A short, high pitched cough shook his body. A pang of despair shot into Pendan's brain. That... was worse than being stuck with gnome girl features. It seemed... "he had lost his powers..." Did he pinch himself?! Trembling hands answered his will and started a search through the debris... There was too big a mess to make something useful of. He went to the door. It seemed to be locked. He turned. Some instinct made him nervously tap his clothes. "What was he looking for..." A hand found its way into a tiny pocket and brought out... a lock pick. "How did that get in there?" He didn't know how to use it... But out of ideas as he felt, he went to the lock and tried anyway. He knocked and scratched the metal interior for a while... "Oh, this was hopeless..." And right as he gave up, his hands took over. In two quick moves, they made the mechanism snap open. Hardly believing his own feat, the Wizard pushed the door. It hardly moved... With great effort, he managed to obtain an opening of a few inches. He saw then that the stairs were crowded with fallen brick. "Was he stuck there?!" He turned back towards the room. Tall bookcases stood at both sides of a window. "Could he pull them?" ...No, he couldn't. He started taking books out - having to climb chair and shelves to get higher - and after many long minutes he tried again. But it was heavy wood those frames were made of... The window? He was so high above the ground, there... His pockets? What could he possibly... (have there?) "Cord? ...Hook? ...Can he use those?!" On a hunch, he tried feeling confident that he could - and let his hands do what they would have known do. He just peeked from time to time. The climbing device ready - what now? "Should he try swinging it?" Again he intended and let himself go. The hook flew through the ceiling hole - his hands pulled - the cord tensed and remained that way. What next? His legs didn't wait that he figures it out and coiled around the cord. His hands pulsated. "Okay, he'll pull." And slowly, weighed down by doubts and the awkwardness of the situation, the Wizard advanced towards the next floor...

Chapter 6. The Reflections (continued) The corridor of leaves finally opened towards another window. It must have made a turn... The wall in front was covered in ivy. A voice of authority came from below. Fann peeked out. A carriage was waiting. Only some servants were about it, talking in low voice. No one seemed to be paying that window any attention. But... can she make it through unseen? She tried leaning forward towards the ivy. Her hand on the plant, she reached with a foot. And then she felt the tree giving her a hearty push! The ivy as her only support, the Rogue now hung in plain sight. Or was she? A look thrown to the people below revealed no change in their awareness of her. Then she saw the robe on that body she was in: It had copied the ivy's pattern! Slowly, she climbed to the window, reached with a hand... The ivy, before her - having found some impossible to guess breach in the woodwork - extended a stem and opened the window, from the inside. Stepping on the little leaves as if floating, Fann entered a small room. It was empty, apart from a few painting frames and some cabinets left in a corner. A place of storage, it seemed. She turned and closed the window, then walked to the door. She listened. Hearing nothing, she pushed the handle, slowly. Then opened the door, craned to take a look at the hallway... when a hand grabbed her and pulled her out! The motion was so strong she would have fallen, were it not for that tight grip. Getting over the shock, she found the hand with her fingernails and scratched - hard. With sudden gained freedom she turned to run away, but found another man barring her escape. She backed up to a wall. They approached. Looking left, then right, she returned to looking straight at the mirror in front. She had seen something there - in her pocket: a bough. "The tree must have put it there." She took it out without thinking and threatened the two. They grinned and closed in. Inches away, almost having caught her, when - one slap of that bough, and grins contorted around groans and... smoke. They fell. That bough was loaded! A few deep breaths and she regained her cool head. She put the branch cautiously back into her pocket. Then, looking that hallway up and down she saw there was no stairway. Funny house! She tried the rooms: empty, empty, locked, empty, locked, locked, furnished... Well, almost - it just had wallpaper and paintings. Was she supposed to find something in there? Halfheartedly, she started tapping the walls, turning the paintings... Nothing. Fann was about to head out when something pinched her - the bough. "Heey!" ...Was it trying to tell her something? She took it out again and saw how - with the fits of a drowsing rod - it turned about, looking for it alone knew what. Fann had the odd feeling she was working with the second inside ...contact of so far. Finally, the bough pointed straight at a wall and pulled the Rogue that way. She had checked it, of course... True, she did not touch it with the bough. And somehow, that caused a part of the wall to move... Go figure! And there was something past the moved panel, a small chest. She opened it easily to find... a hand mirror. Bringing it to light, it sparkled - revealing gems all about its frame. Fann's eyes also sparkled, as she stared at it, and then... She suddenly felt all her strength leaving her body and moving into that mirror image... She blinked once and there she was - looking at the mirror again - but from the other side! The room she has been in she saw as through a window. And around her mirrors, only mirrors... - - - The light of dawn found Aster by the creek, standing there kneeling as the big strong man. It seemed a frontier she could not cross, towards a horizon that promised nothing. The water's voice fell on her soul as onto rock. She raised her eyes slowly. Through distant branches the sky turned red, then soon passed through the colors towards a fresh light blue. Yet a red line remain in the farthest... a red pulsating line. She washed and rubbed her eyes, then rose and made a few steps. She had not been mistaking - the horizon pulsated... "Fire!" Awakened to purpose, she jumped over the water and started running. The trees - she had to save them! She ran and ran, until meeting the cracking of branches, the heat of the blaze - and through, to the living torches. ...She had no staff. She broke a few burning branches and stomped on them, on the ground. She tore the hides covering her torso and hit the flames with them... On her skin, blisters mixed with sweat, but she ignored the pain. She kept striking the fire back with all her strength. The flames soon became walls around her. A roar erupting out of her guts, her body rammed through the scorching barriers, on its own. "The trees..." Her legs had already started to run. "Water! We need water!" she yelled, or honked... but the trees just stood deaf and dumb, falling under the red breath or waiting their turn. The creek was too feeble... Then she remembered - it was coursing that way. There was a chance! She ran, drawing on that big body's strength - she ran as fast as she could. And then, she saw the glimmer. Her heart grew. It spread, it spread on enough length to mean there was a lake - she soon discovered. She reached still water close to the point where the creek arrived. Oh, how joyful its sound seemed now! She threw herself in to calm her skin, then came out with cupped palms. But... what to do with so little... She looked around - and thought she spotted something by a distant shore. Could it be a boat? Her body threw itself forward and started parting big waves. It was a boat she saw! Reaching it, she jumped in and rowed fiercely back. After, she threw the oars and - using the boat for a big bucket - she ran hopeful and water-ful to the suffering woods. Water splattered as she threw herself forward, through the trees - sprinkling them. And as if awakened by the fresh drops - or her rush, leaves trembled, boughs waved. A thought filled Aster with enthusiasm: "They see! They understand what she's doing!" Behind her, a murmur grew, reaching all the way to the shore tree line. And there - the wooden beings moved, joining branches and bending at the waist. As one, they stooped and brought up cupfuls of water, which was then passed to the next trees, and then the next. A long wave's edge swept over the woods' tops, followed by one more, and another. Just seconds after the Druid released one tree from hell with her boatload of water, a curtain of the same showered on the unfortunate to its left and its right until far. On the way back to the lake, Aster saw with joy how she now passed under a veritable sheet of water - as if the lake's surfaces had been skimmed off. Every now an then, a loose drop reached her rugged face - renewing feelings of hope and gratitude. And on the fifth or sixth trip, the drops suddenly multiplied and her heart felt released as she realized: "Rain..." it had started to rain. Exhausted she reached the lake one last time and threw herself in the boat. She didn't feel like paddling - just lay back to enjoy the water drops on her face. It may have been only her imagination... She did feel like daydreaming right then! but the lake seemed awakened - small ripples answering the rain: A dialogue she remembered but could not put into words - a dialogue that began when the lake found itself diminished and asked for help... "Aster! Aster!" sounded a distant call. She lazily raised herself on an elbow and looked around... then below. And in the water she saw reflected her real body. "Was it down there?!" She let her weight roll over the boat's edge - almost capsizing it as a result - and started cutting water depth, one arm stroke after the other... And she saw herself again, her real body, but... twice, thrice... everywhere. Bubbles stopped coming out of her mouth, the waters turned to a depth of mirrors... - - - "...oom BOom BOOM! Aaaargh..." Drum sound and screams punctuated cheer waves. Louder and louder they sounded, as he approached, accompanying a turmoil of quick moving shapes. And as he stepped into the arena, it all erupted onto his senses: noise, movement, bloodshed... Brik's attempt at getting his bearings was soon interrupted by a body thrown into him, from a side. He lost balance, he fell. Possessed by sudden despair, the Barbarian used all his might to pull himself from under the corpse. The effort was so demanding... The short whistle of a blade - With no time to catch his breath, Brik rolled to a side. The blade still caused a wound before touching ground - he bled. Shutting the pain out, he turned and caught that axe's handle. But a moment after, he got raised from the ground along with it - weak as he was. In hindsight, he saw another blade heading fast towards him. Strength served him not... so he let his body follow the axe's motion - dodging the second blow. But before he could avoid it, a free hand of the axeman caught him by the chest. In a matter of moments he would have been pinned against the ground and finished... Brik's hand reached for his wound and pressed. Gnashing, he threw the handful of blood into the axeman's eyes. The grip was released. He fell. His legs could not hold him upwards. He rolled, he pushed the ground, then threw himself to a side. Two big warriors tried to strike him, while a third was striving to clean his eyes. His jumps brought him close to one of the victims on the ground. They've given him a knife to defend... Brik picked it up and continued moving. But how long could he keep it up like that? His wound bled, the effort was very tiresome... One more stroke that he failed to dodge well and blood now oozed out from a second wound. Possessed by blood lust, that fellow tried again - right after. Brik ducked and threw himself against the big body, knife forward. Then pushed himself off with all possible strength, barely escaping the hand that tried to grab him. The knife remained stuck in that brute. Brik's vision began to blur slightly. He backed off until reaching the wall. There were torches. He picked one. The three had surrounded him and were closing in. He turned from one to the the other, waving the torch. That wouldn't keep them away... but if he would throw it at a pair of eyes, that might give him a moment to escape... And then it happened - unknown even to him, in the midst of all the noise, pain and commotion - smoke from the torch found its way to his nostrils. Brik already fell ill. He breathed that smoke in, thinking it was his body falling apart he perceives. He coughed, and breathed in strongly - gathering strength for that one chance to break out. But as breath came out of his mouth and nostrils, so did smoke multiplied. A dark cloud, quickly growing in thickness, surrounded him and expanded outward to the bewildered killers. They attacked. Torch was thrown. Out of the cloud a roll shot out following the Barbarian's movement. Shouts, groans, silence. Up on his feet, shaking and surprised himself by the development, Brik watched the arena that had grown still. The three brutes lay in a pile nearby, dead from their own blows. Then, from a seat high above him, a leader figure shouted some orders. More gates opened, letting in more bloodthirsty brutes. The crowd renewed its noise. The Barbarian was now barely standing... With blurry eyes, he looked around for another torch. A glimmer... He cupped a hand over his eyes. Across the arena from him, a large statue dominated the site. He knew those features... that god... Large bronze mirrors set all around the statue served to concentrate light upon it. The statue's eyes were mirrors too... "Oh, Strong One," rose from Brik's mouth on panting bursts of air - "grant me an honorable death!" A torch in each hand, he breathed the smoke in deeply. Then - enveloped in a new cloud - he rushed towards the wave of assailants. Aware that he could not escape with his life this time, his eyes rose to meet the statue's while everything else he left to chance. Light shone back and forth between stone and man - he saw through the smoke, and the light saw his face. And in that light all his thoughts were lost. Noise, pain, blood spatter - all fell away from his senses, spiraling into darkness behind him. Then, as if with a last ray of light redrawn from the taint of that place, Brik felt himself shooting into the bronze eyes. He lost consciousness... - - - With a last heave, Pendan pulled himself up on the floor. That effort took its toll on the lungs, and through smoke and cough he barely had time to make anything out when... a brick, then another flew towards him. The gnome body rolled and dodged, but bricks kept coming. They seemed to be flying around... They seemed to came out of nowhere... No, not of nowhere - from the smoke! Fragments of still image pieced together revealed the thick smoke as a raging assailant. Moving around, the Wizard spotted a knocked down table. Rolling and jumping, he found his way to it - then ducked. But it wasn't long until the smoke figured it out... and seeking bricks started to arrive on circular trajectories, from left and right. He only had a little time to catch his breath in that clean corner and think. "Most likely that was the spell he was up against. But how to subdue it without powers..." Bricks interrupted the thoughts. He had to keep moving! With no alternative, he went about gathering bits of the room's interior while trying to not get hit. When he had seen enough, one last roll took him to the floor hole. He dropped, grabbing air - then cord. And was able to land safely. "Window - distant clouds... Ceiling - with trap door - leading to roof, no doubt. Furniture - useless - mostly ravaged and smashed... a short cabinet by the door. Bottles - broken - puddles as down here... Some small boxes - pills scattered about... On the body - some more cord and hooks..." Pendan browsed through these a few times, then - out of a corner of that wizard mind - a plan began to take shape. "He would need a good bottle... And he could only hope to find among the pills those certain implements of magic... Then... he would have to make it out the window unharmed!" Pendan's thoughts could only reach that far. His gnome hands took over from there and - after having prepared a few more climbing coils - they once more ascended. Resumed was the dancing with bricks. And it took so long to find out what he wanted, while not letting the smoke in on it... Between reaching the cabinet and those boxes once more, Pendan even had to occupy his mind with something else - while the body did all the work. Since all the dodging reminded him of the one-knight problem in chess, the Wizard took to memorizing and organizing the moves - trying to guess what the body's next move will be... Eventually he arrived in the possession of an intact bottle and a couple of pills only he knew the use of. Then an expertly launched cord became attached to one window's silt, and - betting all on that one card - Pendan jumped out the opposite window. The Rogue heart skipped no beat. Hanging on one hand, he released - with the other - the coil of another cord. It was thrown upwards, to the roof's edge - then pulled, revealing expert aim. Caught with both hands and legs it served as a ladder. Then - roof edge reached - it passed the pleasure of sending the gnome body further up to another cord. Quietly and without slips. What a professional! The roof. Now that he reached it, Pendan secured his position as best he could and took out the chemistry set. The pills went into the bottle, the cork back on top, he shook it a bit, and... Well, that's all he had to do really. The rest was up to physics. Seconds later, the cork suddenly shot through the air and the glass burst open: A whirlwind broke out, heading straight upwards. It pulled shingles, it pulled the Wizard - who held on those cord ends with all his gnome might, and soon after pulled also a thick spiral of smoke through the last floor's windows. So powerful can the mixture of low and high pressure pills be! And where that current touched the sky, it called to it all the clouds around. And they gathered and mixed with the smoke, and - just as the Wizard, now floating up there, had hoped - it all ended up in rain. No lightning. No thunder. Just a rain of relief - good old heavens relied on to clean up another mess of the guys below. With the chaotic drive - now scattered into thousands of harmless drops, also fell Pendan. Slowly. Hanging from the ends of a big handkerchief - now parachute. After landing, he watched the thinned clouds wisping away to their homes. Where the whirlwind - now gone - had stopped, the sky shinned brighter, clearer than on miles around. Pendan's eyes shone and smiled back. And for a moment there, it would have been hard to tell where the sky was and where the Wizard... Where was the Wizard? He disappeared. And the sky also slowly hid the brightness in its invisible recesses... [ OOS: Up to this point, i've left nothing to chance - so as to secure a sense of order. In the next stage, an idea known in advance will set the frame for the events. But randomness will also be used - for the details of the challenge. ]

Chapter 6. The Reflections (continued) Who knows how long they could have wandered? There seemed to be no end to the mirrors. Walk alongside, pass through, or just stare at them - the scenery would not change: perpetual twilight crossed by rows after rows of mirrors... Some showed their true bodies, others - the bodies they were still in, and some mirrors reflected only other mirrors. It took a while for all of them to have the same idea - to call the name of the body they were in. And their voices had to sound at the same time - and to resonate, on top of that! But they did it. And, mirrors trembling, as each walked past a row's corner, they all found each other. And in the blink of an eye, every mind took its proper place. Awkward greetings followed, some hand shakes, some pats on the back... It seemed all traces of goosery had disappeared. But out of excitement, Fann coughed a little - to her surprise. And Pendan's robe was all rags, his body scared... For one good thing, the pockets had retained their contents. The Wizard just whispered something over some needle and thread and his cloth got repaired in an eye-blink. Literally! Then they noticed the mirrors' trembling hadn't stopped. The reflections showed their group, or nothing - but there were also quick fragments of other things now: beings, places - some of which seemed familiar... Still, on the background and between the rows, the same twilight ruled, and they wondered - Pendan for sure did - "what would remain if the mirrors break?" A word from the Wizard and Brik let one of the mirrors have it. But nothing happened... The mirrors seemed to answer a law all of their own. The four just had to content themselves with what solid and real was there available and... kept walking. There was one direction none had arrived from, yet - to their surprise - at the end of that row of mirrors they found none other than... themselves! [ OOS: Key words for - - false Brik, 3d330 = 97, 198, 91: thistle, cupboard, grass; - false Pendan, 3d330 = 93, 110, 20: mushroom, bubble, rain; - false Fann, 3d330 = 139, 307, 132: flesh, comb, wing; - false Aster, 3d330 = 16, 196, 221: sound, pillow, glass. ] They stood there staring at each other - four against four, while the nearby mirrors drew away and formed a wall around them, at some distance. As if somehow connected to their fate, their trembling was tuned down and the reflections showed just obvious. But the adventurers had no mind for that, as a troubling thought now weighed on them: "Which one was true - of them, which false?" Casting glances left and right, some started to move away from the group - and the counterparts in their front did the same. Then one of the Briks launched himself towards a Fann and Aster pair, the big arms apart... (while the other Aster let out a surprising owl shriek!) [ 2d6 = 6, 5: success (4-6) for Brik, success for Aster -- Brik will make contact unless interrupted. ] His legs had already measured most of the small space in between, when the targeted Fann reacted - stepping back and having the dagger fall from sleeve to hand. The Aster nearby just raised her hands and frowned... [ 2d6 = 3, 3: failure (1-3) for Fann, failure for Aster ] But the shriek got them. Fann stumbled and almost fell, while the dagger slipped past her hand. And Aster had the shock to discover no electricity would gather at the end of her fingers! Brik reached and hugged them, turning into a cupboard, right when... ...Shaking himself out of stupor, the other Brik leaped, trying to grab the first... [ 1d6 = 4: success (4-6) ] and succeeded, but too late to stop him - as he already became furniture, Fann and Aster inside. Still, the big hand left a visible dent in the hard wood before redrawing to allow a punch... Letting Brik handle the melee, Pendan scattered the sound's grip on his mind and focused to take out that strange Aster and the Wizard nearby, whose hand on a shoulder was guiding her... (The Fann in front took aim at the old man with her blowgun!) [ 2d6 = 1, 3: failure (1-3) for Pendan, failure for Fann ] ...But, while dodging a needle, Pendan lost concentration. His body... "tired already?!" Brik's punch... [ 1d6 = 1: failure (1-3) ] ...hit that cupboard square on, but did it break? Not quite! Soft as grass around the punch's energy, it fell to clumps of thistles - for pieces. Big prickles thistles! And in the midst of the green patch - a small flower plant and one taller popped up. [ OOS: End of round one, each character having acted once. ] Fann's needle... [ 1d6 = 1: failure (1-3) ] ...flew past Brik's back, while he just stood there staring. The noise must have been working against her as well! Pendan stepped in front of the big guy, hiding before him, just when... [ 1d6 = 4: success (4-6) -- the stubborn Rogue strikes twice ] ...Fann's third needle reached flesh. That hurt! somehow... Brik turned while the Wizard pulled on his hides, yelling - "The spell-casters - get them!" He leaped, hands first - trying to grab the two magic wielders... [ 1d6 = 5: success (4-6) ] ...and fingers hooked on their clothing, while... [ 2d6 = 3, 1: failure (1-3) for Pendan, failure for Aster ] ...the energy field they maintained - suddenly concentrated on the Barbarian - got out of their control and dispersed. [ OOS: End of round two. ] [ 2d6 = 6, 6: success (4-6), success ] But with their wills, that energy reappeared inside them - taking new directions: The Druid's body vanished into a snowing of dark feathers - her robe remaining in Brik's hand, like a pillowcase. And the Wizard turned to a large mushroom, releasing a heavy cloud of spores against the strong hold. Leaving blowgun for dagger, Fann had rolled behind the Barbarian - ready to strike... [ 1d6 = 2: failure (1-3) ] ...but never got to... [ 3d6 = 6, 2, 5: success (4-6) for Pendan, failure (1-3) for Fann, and success for Aster ] ...because Pendan's smoke bolt distracted her. As it became a smoke snake - crawling on the Rogue's body - she turned all her attention to it, frantically trying to escape. Meanwhile, shriek gone, the taller, yellow flower plant shook and turned back to Druid. The little one just flapped her leaves hopelessly... Dazed by the spores, Brik staggered away - trying to wipe the hand clean with the robe. [ OOS: End of round three. ] [ 1d6 = 2: failure (1-3) ] The smoke snake kept escaping Fann, and each time it bit her - she had a half-second of blackout... [ 1d6 = 2: failure (1-3) ] The mushroom tried to direct a stream of spores towards the other Wizard but failed to reach him. However, some spores - floating away - reached the thistle, conveying some message to Brik there. [ 1d6 = 1: failure (1-3) ] Meanwhile, the feathers tried to pull themselves up into a different shape - but only managed to change color to white. [ 1d6 = 1: failure (1-3) ] So as to distract all - perhaps, the prickly Barbarian gathered suddenly into a menacing growth of green around the little flower. But the next moment it fell apart - sinking into the ground. Right after, he popped out from a surrounding mirror - a silly smile on his face. The little flower had blushed. [ 1d6 = 1: failure (1-3) ] Try as he might, Brik could not get that slimy film off his hand - and it seemed to be passing the skin, drawing strength from his veins... [ OOS: End of round four. ] Still not knowing which one was the true Brik, Aster followed her heart and ran to remove the toxic presence. Bag gone, she reached for one more of her strands, but then noticed she had an oak bough in her pocket. She pulled it out and - directing clean thoughts to the leaves - started to brush the man's hand. [ 1d6 = 6: success (4-6) ] So clean, so appetizing! must have thought the spores - for they left the flesh in an instant, grabbing the green offering. Aster then threw the bough aside. [ 1d6 = 6: success 4-6) ] Finally managing to grab that sneaky bolt thing, Fann gave the controlling wizard a mean look and jumped towards him. So light she must have been that air carried her as it would a gliding bird. [ 1d6 = 4: success (4-6) ] But slippery as she was, the Wizard's waving of arms caught her before she could stick her nails in thicker flesh. Only his hands got scratched... [ 1d6 = 5: success (4-6) ] Seeing his Fann in danger, the recently mirror-out Brik rushed to her help. The other Brik saw that and, one of his hands still weak, tried to intercept him... [ 1d6 = 3: failure (1-3) ] But didn't manage to arrive in time... The first Barbarian crashed into the Wizard, knocking him out - while the prisoner Fann easily rolled away. [ 3d6 = 5, 3, 4: success (4-6) for Aster, failure (1-3) for Fann, and success for Pendan ] Right then the feathers snowed upwards and twirled to end in a (fortunately) covered Aster. But all she had to use for that were some of the feathers... Flower Fann made another attempt to change back to gnome - this time with too much effort it seemed, as she then lowered both leaves and petals as if gone withering. Where the mushroom was, a yellow-brown cloud - now scattering, revealed the Wizard - ready for action. [ OOS: End of round four. ] With all the strength he could muster, the weak hand Brik rammed into the other Barbarian... [ 1d6 = 3: failure (1-3) ] But he was tripped and pushed further forward - knocking only air. The roll having brought Fann near the Druid, Aster - still on heart mode - switched from compassionate healer to green defender and aimed to clutch the Rogue... [ 1d6 = 6: success (4-6) ] Her fingers caught hair and pulled. [ 1d6 = 6: success (4-6) ] But getting over the shock quickly, Fann made herself light again and followed the hand. Then she attached herself so well to it, as if she and Aster were of one flesh! [ 1d6 = 6: success (4-6) ] As it looked, no one had eyes for her and her team had the upper hand - so the scarcely covered Druid ran to a mirror. Disappearing inside it, she came out from another one. This time dressed in... mirror glass! [ 1d6 = 6: success (4-6) ] Mushroom tactics behind, the Wizard waved his hands to darken the place above the other team. A cloud of blackness gathered out of nowhere and soon started a rain of black drops... [ 1d6 = 4: success (4-6) ] Having successfully escaped the other Barbarian's rush, Brik grabbed his body and - pulling him to the ground - rolled and threw him into the Druid. Then pushed himself off the ground and jumped out of the drops' reach. [ 1d6 = 1: failure (1-3) ] Aster - with most of her attention desperately directed towards the growth on her arm - couldn't dodge that and fell, hurting herself. The growth rolled away, naturally. [ 1d6 = 1: failure (1-3) ] The small flower sighed and dropped a little petal tear. She just couldn't free herself... The black fall slowly intensified, and where before the drops just left smelly spots upon contact - now dark, noxious fumes began to rise. The hurt Aster fainted, while Brik nearby tried to pull her out of the cloud's reach - but himself fell on a knee, eventually, coughing his lungs out. On the side, their adversaries enjoyed the show - the mirror Aster gloating behind hideous reflections. [ OOS: End of round five. It looks like only GM intervention can save the team now... ] The little Rogue's vision began to fade, heavens' eyes slowly closing to their fate... Far, far away, in the library room, the reader left pipe aside and leaned over the last words. The situation was critical! He placed one finger on the true Fann's name and one on Aster's, while quickly quieting his mind and focusing on a recent event in his memory... Soon only a single leaf, like a green heart remained unsmudged and awake. "Mmmmhm... ivy," went Fann - half dreaming, her mind's eyes following a fragment of earlier adventure. And as she again stepped from leaves corridor to a ladder of climbing vines, vines grew out of the ground where her teammates stood. Grew, coiled, and tightened around ankle or wrist, and then... The reader suddenly grabbed the book, turned it and - holding its halves fast with both hands - he gave it a strong shake. World upside down and mirrors trembling terribly, everyone fell - desperately trying to hold on to something and failing. But four fell no lower than their bonds allowed, pulled up and down on the mirrors' rhythm, then hanging - shaken and powerless - before the world turned back to down below, up above. The black cloud, having swallowed its summoner last, diminished until it remained a point - a dark memory on the sky with distant stars which twilight had turn to. The mirrors grew quiet then changed sight to that of path leading out of there. Only now and then, a ripple like a thrill crossed their faces. Both Aster and the Wizard were awake by now, and Fann twisted and trembled all she could - trying to get their attention. The vines had left marks and the untying was a painful process... But massage and bear was all they had for remedy. Aster got up first and, leaving Pendan to help Brik with his noose, limped her way to the flower. But how to help her... the magic that turned gnome to greenery was strange, of that strange place - a toll, it seemed, that the labyrinth was demanding of their team... So Fann was picked up and placed in a pocket, for safekeeping. At least in the brown of the robe, between lines of the leaves pattern, the flower could burrow its roots and live - while waiting for a turn of fortune. All on their feet now, they looked forward, along the path opened to them. One step after another, they slowly left behind the combat scene, heading further into the unknown.

Chapter 6. The Reflections (continued) The way was long and monotonous. One wall of mirrors to the left reflecting nothing else than the wall to the right. One direction to go in. They thought they had enough walking a few times, but the path just kept leading ahead. Frustration, boredom, despondency, and feet that threatened to rebel against the mindless advance - these were their challenges now. And thoughts, like "Is this road really going anywhere?" - or - "...Are we actually moving?!" Or the flower's countless "are we there yet?" which only poor Aster could hear... And then, when least expected - hardly believed for sure, something changed. At the horizon, the corridor of mirrors seemed to end. They dragged their feet - one last stretch of vigor and will, thinking they probably were having visions by now. But the more they approached they saw more clearly how - from one point forward - the road's lines changed their angle... "Oh" / "It's a mirror" / "A dead end..." - and - "I don't know!" (to Fann) was the descent of their minds from that thin peak of hope. A mirror indeed blocked their way. They stopped before their reflections, staring and wondering what was expected of them. The Rogue too climbed out of her pocket to take a peek. It looked just like all those mirrors which lined up the road behind them and it was only that same road they could see in the glassy surface... Minds blank and exhausted, they sat - Aster even lay down, preferring the sky image. Soon a small cloud of smoke came up from Pendan's pipe, and then they heard: "Nhuh-huh-huh! Nnnhuh-huh-nnhhhhh!" They looked at one another, but it was not the Barbarian coughing. It was... "the mirror!" "You... you fiends!" it let out between bursts of mirror-lungs. "I was sleeping... Smoke, eh? I'll take care of that!" And just having jingled those words out, the image of the smoke strongly drew to it all the real soot. The Wizard's jaw dropped: "That... was his ability!" The image then cleared along with the air around them. Silence fell between the adventurers and they all had the impression they were under the mirror's glare. "Ahem..." started Pendan. "Ahem - indeed!" replied the mirror. After a moment of waiting, he tried again: "We're" - but the glass cut his speech - "Sorry? Huh! I don't believe it." And continued: "Oh but you will be! You're sooo unlucky - I hold grudge!" "Hey!" - Brik put his foot in - "We knew not you're a-living! We just wanna get through." "Through?! The nerve..." The mirror's voice shook, but it soon switched from indignation to malice: "And... how do you suppose you'll get through me? Are you... gonna punch me, big guy?" "...I just might!" replied the Barbarian, unsure why his anger couldn't catch up with his will. "Did that sheet of glass do anything to him?!" One step, one twist of his torso, and a cannonball of a fist flew in the mirror's direction. And through. About a foot or so. Then Brik got thrown back with just as much strength as he used, flew past the speechless others, and landed hard on the twilight ground. The mirror chuckled. Pendan made a sign towards Aster and she followed him over to where Brik lay befuddled. There they held a short council. "It draws on our powers," whispered the Wizard. "We can't face it head on and... it seems we can't talk our way out of the situation either." After this he grew silent. They pondered for some time, but it was Pendan again who had first an idea: "Perhaps... Do you remember how we met in this labyrinth? We cried out, calling each other's name. And the mirrors trembled. Let's try and raise our voices again, at the same time!" "Ready? One... two..." Whispers turned suddenly to loud voices, shouting in unison: "AAA!" The mirrors started to tremble - just as hoped for - including the talking one, except... it seemed to be trembling of laughter! "Mphmhmhmh-ho-ho-ho-ha-ha-ha!" came from behind the glass. "Oh-ho-ho, oh stop it, stop it - you slay me! Hi-hi..." Well, yeah!? That's what they planned for - and they went on. The mirror, however, soon resumed seriousness and informed them - on a very dull tone: "No, really, that has no effect on me." And after a moment added: "Except to annoy me. Further. If that's your intention..." Then, seeing that they don't give up, it continued: "Ookay, I'll just put my ear muffs on and go back to sleep. I'd take away your voices, but you deserve to yell yourself to death. Good riddance! I must say... This has not been a pleasure." Silence fell and soon after they stopped. "Was there no chance? Perhaps if they tried a different pitch?" And they tried, a number of them - and all sounds and voices they could think of. All they achieved was the light cracking of one of the mirrors nearby. Of the assumed gateway, nothing. It looked... like all they could do now is go back - mind-wrenching as that prospect was. "Perhaps... if Fann's voice could have joined theirs... How was little Fann faring? She had grown quiet in her pocket..." thought Aster and gently searched for some leaves or petals. She found her. "Fann? Fann? Did you go to sleep too?" whispered the Druid, and her caring expression turned to worry seeing her hand returned... colored black. She raised it to see better and the nearness to her nose made her sneeze. "It... it was..." "Achoo!" "...pollen." "Pollen," noticed also the Wizard. "Is she alright?" asked Brik. "I think so..." replied Aster - "All our shouting must have weakened her, fragile thing..." "Can I hold her?" said the Barbarian - although they all knew the robe kept Fann alive. "Yes, yes let him!" intervened Pendan, a gleam in his eyes. "What could he possibly..." - Reluctant, Aster, took out the flower and handed it over to Brik: "Careful!" He solemnly received her on a palm, and once she safely lay there - his features changed to a big smile. Then he had the idea to brush the air above her with his other hand. In her mind, Aster heard a dim whimper - as of the flower coming to. And then she heard: "ackchoo..." - just as a cloud of pollen grains flew off with the cooling current. Up, up to Brik's nose and then... "Cover her!" Pendan shouted - and Brik managed to, just before letting out a horrendous sneeze. "Oh my... He was allergic!" Wobbling... bending sound... sudden cracking and... shards - bursting out - raining upon them! They barely had time to turn. It hurt. Many small wounds covered their bodies, but luckily all superficial. And the way forward was now open. They tended to their bleeding, making sure everyone was alright. Then looked past the mirror's frame - all that was left of it. What before had been the reflection of the road behind them, now appeared as the unchanged continuation. Ahead, a row of mirrors on the left and one on the right, with the same monotonous feel they had grown sick of... [ OOS: This chapter has grown to considerable length already. I'm content with having demonstrated group combat and with the story developing well enough - even if i could have made more of the reflections idea. With chapter end in view, i'll apply now that method of rolling for a last area and the area before it: A(L-1), 3d330 = 34, 217, 291: mast, mirror, bolt; A(L), 3d330 = 134, 132, 87: egg, wing, stain. The purpose is to prepare for what will take place in the last area. I already have an idea for the challenge there, so the key words will serve to define the setting and some interaction elements. ] Fann back in Aster's care, they took to facing another stretch of walking ordeal. From the first steps, a feeling took possession of the Druid: that they were measuring infinity with their feet. The flower, hiding in the pocket, would have grown green again - if she wasn't a plant already. "Brace yourself..." whispered Aster, but then - looking up - she met the same troubling thought in the others' eyes. Soon though they had something more pressing to worry about. First the pale stars above began to shift, to disappear and to appear again elsewhere. Then, gradually, the sky as a whole grew darker and with it also the mirrors on their left and right. They started to pulsate and glass appeared to be changing to a more fluid substance... Under their feet, the twilight became softer, softer - until they noticed their feet would sink, slowly, if left more than a second in one place. It seemed... it seemed they would soon be swallowed by whatever that place was made of... Oh, what a relief it was to soon spot the end of the road - so much sooner than the last time. Their feet were already ankle deep - Brik sinking more even, as if his greater weight made a difference. They would have run if they could - that last length, to the mirror in front - but it became harder and harder to move... as if the ground was sticky. At long last, they reached the mirror and leaned on good, solid surface - also discovering with renewed relief that their feet no longer sank there! "Ahoy there!" - spoke the glass loudly, startling everyone. "Uhm... Ahoy?!" answered Pendan. "Ye birds be takin' shelter 'ainst the storm, eh?" continued the mirror. "Birds?! ...We ain't no," started Brik, but stopped - seeing Pendan's vigorous head and hands shaking. He had taken a step aside, past the frame - where the mirror wouldn't see him. Now, stepping back in front, he took over from the Barbarian: "Yes, we are ...birds and we ...would like to take shelter from the ...storm." He then nudged Aster discreetly with his elbow. "Yes..." - she said, taking the hint - "Can you please let us through?" she asked, putting on a smile like sunshine. "Thru?! ...Ye mean down below? Why... No one's been on the ship for... me ol' noggin lost count..." The mirror grew silent, as if lost in its memories. "So, can we pass? please," tried Pendan again - after too much waiting. "Pass?! Pass... Me thinks not. Unless ye birdies have really strong claws and beaks! The sky be bolted," replied the mirror - with some regret in its voice. "But ye be safe where ye are," it added. "The storm won't get ye!" Well, at least the mirror was friendly - they all thought - and if what it said was true, they were in no immediate danger. Pendan started to patter about for any signs of 'bolts', and bid Brik do the same where he couldn't reach. Soon though, their search was interrupted by the mirror's giggle: "Mmphph-he-he-he... Ye tickles!" One look exchanged, the two resumed their tapping - adding some scratching for greater effect. "Oh-ho-ho!" went the glass surface - "Watch... hi-hi! Watch ye little fe-feet!" it cackled, wobbling and throwing their arms back. The two stepped back for balance, landing one foot in the sinking blackness. "T-take care! He-he... Me limbs be losin' it!" it warned. That didn't work... Pondering time. Legs tired, they sat - leaning against the mirror, the bubbling darkness inches away. The Wizard wished he could light up his pipe... "Storm... bolted sky... ship below..." Aster tried to see if that was a storm, but her hands did not draw lightning... instead she felt as if inviting... void in. And Pendan: He could not scatter the clouds. As for calling them to him - they would gladly wisp over, but to what good... "Bolted sky... " - his mind still on that notion, the Wizard carelessly fashioned a bolt out of the wisps and sent it flying around. And past his shoulder. And back... It didn't come back! Pendan turned to see that indeed it had disappeared past the mirror. The same voice from before was heard mumbling - something about the sky needing repairs. "So... they could not get through, but a bolt could!" Then came the wild idea: What if they could bolt through the mirror? Aster and Brik both looked at him with a mixture of surprise and worry. But not minding their doubts he asked the Barbarian to hold his arm firmly, swing him all he could back towards the darkness, then throw him head first into the glass surface. "Hard as you can! Right?" he said last, while grabbing the brim of his hat. Fearing for the old man's life, Brik wavered... The strangeness of that place, however, already had allowed for harder to believe occurrences. And there was something so compelling about that willingness to risk... The big guy eventually did as asked. And what do you know?! Pendan flew right through the mirror... Brik and Aster gathered by the glass surface to listen. The Wizard was talking to that voice from before. He seemed safe. It was the Druid's turn - and in she flew. Then the Barbarian - again propelled just by a huge effort of his muscles... [ OOS: A random word used with more than one meaning! ] ...A ship's sails ...deck ...Aster and Pendan hanging on ropes ...the mast ...Brik fell and rolled, he grabbed and tore, but in the end still landed on hard wood. Knockout. When he opened his eyes and turned, he saw clear sky everywhere - except over the mast, where a dark cloud was gathered. Large white sails - one partially roughed in his descent - stood puffed in a wind he could not perceive. Below him, the floor swung and squeaked. The other two were waiting nearby. "Are you alright?" asked Aster, wondering if she should sacrifice another hair strand. Brik checked - he seemed fine... His body hurt of course, but nothing had broken. He got up. Shaking his head, he made sure everything was at its right place in there. Then looked past the rail at the sea. It reminded a lot of the twilight from before... except it was dark blue. Its surface, still as the sky above, was only now and then troubled by a a wobble of small waves. "Quite the mess ye made!" scolded the mirror voice - now sounding from atop the mast. "Be sure ye don't break nothin' else, ye hear? An' don' dirty no floors either!" it added. Then mumbled something about birds on deck, before getting lost in a sailor song. Still looking up, Brik heard the Wizard whisper: "It's the mast." Turning his eyes to Pendan he caught the sign for moving out of there, and he followed the others on a tour of the deck. There was no one else there - just as the voice had let them understand. The ship apparently was driven by that imperceptible wind alone... No helm, no compass - it seemed destined to wander for eternity. "Hic! -ternity..." went the voice and started to sing louder - a tinge of sadness in its tone. Soon after, it quieted down, but only to continue with as loud a snoring. Eternity... "What if they had reached it? What if... that was the purpose of their journey, all along?" Looking to the horizon, the four were tempted by most unsettling thoughts... Not ready to give up, Pendan expected something to happen any moment. "Perhaps some great sea monster would pop out and swallow them, and their journey would continue therein... Or a rainbow will appear like a bridge they can climb..." But nothing happened. And with every moment of waiting they all sank deeper in a hopeless state. Practical thinking. Hanging himself onto it, Pendan fought to stay above waters: "The ship. They have not completely explored it. There have been many unusual passage points so far. Perhaps there was one below deck. Yes, it could be..." Shaking the last webs off, he pushed himself away from the rail and turned to look for a door. Pulling the Druid's sleeve he yelled: "Wake up! Wake up! We need to search the ship further." Still looking at the sea, Aster let herself dragged. Brik however... There was no way any pulling - or hitting even - would make him move. He seemed to be merging with the deck, and the Wizard had the unpleasant vision of him becoming a second mast. He took some of Fann's pollen and climbed the rail to reach his nose. Nothing... "What else... what else..." He saw a scar and... remembered how the Barbarian got it. And how Aster healed it. He went to her and - as gentle yet firm he could - he pulled her hair. "Owww!" - Aster woke up. And, as expected, Brik got pulled towards them with the strands. "Where? What?" he said, stumbling... Just moments after, they were their own selves again. And not to give the lurking hopelessness any more chances, the Wizard urged them to follow him past the nearest door. It opened onto a dark cabin. Nearby, on a wall, an oil lamp hung. Once lit, reflections hit from many directions at once - almost blinding them. Flame diminished, they saw the walls full of mirrors. All sizes and shapes, some fixed other mobile. And some... showing odd things. Like this one Brik stared at, seeing not himself but the Wizard. "Pendan..." he said, pointing. "What about it?!" - The Wizard saw himself in it, and Brik too. But Aster had a similar occurrence elsewhere - "Brik!" she said, turning to look at them, "I see Brik instead of myself!" And funny thing, so did the others see themselves as, when they checked... There was even a Brik head sticking out of a chest pocket to see what was happening. ...Then the Druid heard in her mind: "There, look!" and turned to discover Fann as the gnome girl again, arms 'round her neck. "You see?" she asked the others. "I wonder..." began a thought in the Wizard's mind, as he gazed on the Rogue besides two Pendans. "There is something about these mirrors... Fann? Concentrate! Keep looking at your true body." Minutes passed and at the Druid's chest was still only a little flower... "Perhaps..." Perhaps if each found a mirror showing their true body and looked into it hard enough? Brik was given the lamp, to hold it up for everyone - in the room's center. Fann climbed to Aster's shoulder for her reflection, as the Druid had to turn much to see her own. And they all looked and looked... until Aster's body felt heavy, and a small hand pulled her hair trying to avoid falling. Almost immediately, Brik ran into them - following his bond with the blonde tresses. Light and shadows were splattered all over the walls, then most of the room was temporarily drowned in darkness. Pendan picked up the lamp. The Barbarian pulled himself up, then helped the others rise. Everyone smiled. The thoughts from before had vanished from their minds, and they now looked with optimism at the mirrors. "An egg!" - Fann's voice sounded bell-like, full with the happiness of being heard again. "There! See?" A small egg indeed appeared, white and shining, among a variety of dull colored, dusty trinkets. They turned but... the egg they all saw was not also in the room. Someone reached and tapped the egg's place, and Fann even tried to see if the mirror was not a cupboard. It wasn't. There was no trace of a real egg anywhere. Then Brik discovered something else that wasn't in the room - a parrot. And as it happened, the egg and the parrot images could not be seen at the same time... "Hmpf..." let out Pendan - remembering a teachers' prank at the Academy. "What was first," he chanted to himself, "the bird or..." Then, louder, he addressed the others: "Come! Help me move these mirrors. We need one image reflected onto the other." As soon as they managed that, they heard a loud "SQUawk!", followed by the flapping of wings above them. The next thing they knew was Pendan getting egg squash on his hat - the egg suddenly turned visible. The parrot, then, still invisible, disappeared - it alone knows where... (door was open) What now? "Should he clean that?!" The Wizard felt kind of silly - Fann barely contained her laughter. But he made an effort and looked into every mirror first... Nothing? It seemed... something had gone wrong... A hunch made him look at the mirrors closely and he bid the others do the same. "...What do we look for?" - "Anything... Wait! I found something..." They all gathered around him. He was pointing at... a smudge, barely visible. "So... ?!" - "The smudge," helped the Wizard - "...the reflections," he added, waiting for them to figure it out. "Oh..." let out Aster (not sure why) - and Pendan, assuming everyone understood, put thought to words to claim the discovery: "Yes... That smudge messed up the reflections. I think it's safe to say the bird was angry and we messed up..." Moments of figuring out the statements' implications. "Messed up? As in - we can't get out of here now?!" exclaimed Fann. "That parrot - maybe i go find it?" Brik cut in. And right as he said it, they heard from afar: "Hoy! Which of ye scoundrels let out the cursed bird? Be chewin' me head off!" ...No, it did not seem like a good idea to anger those two further. But... there was a good chance, Pendan thought, there was more to those mirrors. "More? Can there be more than a way out?!" The Wizard took his hat off to scratch his head - the first time they saw him doing that. He placed it on a table nearby and started to search for his pipe. His moves were suddenly stopped by a sudden noise: "Aaaaah!" they heard and then a mirror's cracking. What happened? They looked around, but found no fissure until their eyes reached Pendan's hat: a small mirror facing the egg splash had broken. "It broke... What does it mean?" asked Fann. "Nah. It's not broken, just acting up," came an answer. But none of them had spoken. "Huh... it calls itself the 'Artistic' Mirror - but if you ask me, 'Vanity' suits it better. The sight of that ornament on your hat must have been too much for it, he he..." The voice belonged, probably, to another mirror nearby... "Here!" it said, "Red frame, with handle. Lift me up so i can see you better." In Pendan's hand, it continued to speak: "Yeah. You look like an intelligent person. That's a relief... I bet we'll have a lot of interesting stuff to talk about!" The others exchanged looks. " Oh... It felt like an eternity of hearing nothing but praises and parroty talk between that bird and the mirror. You can't imagine..." continued the mirror - "And they call it The Bird of the Universe! One shudders to think..." "Well," tried the Wizard - "It would be nice to sit and talk, but... we are here on a mission." - "Oh, how interesting!" replied the mirror. "Yes... well, we need to move on and reach the end of this... labyrinth." explained Pendan. "A labyrinth? What makes you think you're in a labyrinth? Wait! wait... I'd rather ponder on this one myself. It sounds so philosophical!" - "Yeah... right. So... do you happen to know the way out of here?" Pendan asked. "...Out?" the mirror replied, after a pause - "Like that door you entered by? ...Incidentally, do you mind closing it? I'd rather not have the bird find its way back in here..." said the mirror. Brik went and closed it, then everyone waited silently for the mirror to give more. The speaking thing waited also, until the silence became unbearable. Then it gave up: "Oh well... I guess I can't force you to stay if you don't want to. I am in fact a Guardian of the Way - it's my job to let you through..." It sighed, then continued: "Fine. Just do me another favor, please. Place me were i can look at that squashed egg. He-he, The Egg of the World... I was so bored by the whole Bird-Egg idea. That should at least give me something interesting to contemplate for the rest of eternity." Pendan placed the mirror as asked, when he suddenly recollected some ancient lore: "Egg of the World? It's that what broke... But doesn't that mean?" - "What?" asked the mirror, seeing the look on his face. "The egg. If it's broke, doesn't it mean that..." - "Oh, I wouldn't worry about it much. That crazy bird is probably going to lay out another egg soon. Which it's not going to be in here, he-he... And, well, we both know that the fuss was just for show - I mean, it's not like the world was ever born perfectly clean..." "So... the way out?" cut in Fann, while the Wizard still weighed things up. "Yes, right," replied the Guardian - "There's another mirror face down somewhere in this room. You have to look closely because its back looks just like the surface it's on - someone's funny idea! Then just look into it and think of one thing alone. Something simple - that mirror isn't that smart..." it said, ending with a sigh. Far, far away, in the library room, the reader leaned over the page as if he could discover what thing each of them thought about. But it was to remain a secret, ever hidden among the mysteries of that book...

 

OOS -- The Last Challenge At this point, the handling of a new chapter is a sensitive matter. For a story with no connection between its chapters other than the characters' journeying forward, this one has already lasted quite long. There would have been a thematic connection, if i would have done more than suggesting the myth idea. But as things are, the characters' progress might at most be considered a series of backstage events - complete with tripping over wires, crashing into props, and messing some unfortunate hero's makeup. If you can accept that, then the choice of 'Introduction' as theme may be called justified. The story, however, needs something more substantial to build on... A new chapter should bring about something new in terms of developments. Yet, being a last challenge chapter with no build up behind it, those developments can only be of minor importance. Also, it seems hard to more than change the appearance of already used interactions between the characters and other story elements. Additionally, in keeping with the philosophical trend, a new chapter means a next level of consciousness. It will be the level of unborn things - a place outside space and time where everything exists potentially; or otherwise put, exists and does not exist - at the same time. I can anticipate how easily interactions there could make a mess of the characters, the team, and the mission... (Upon later thought, a little mess is manageable and may find meaning as the labyrinth exit is approached.) So why another challenge chapter? For one thing, to give myself more time to come up with a proper way out of the labyrinth. And that may have to be prepared a little - hence the use for more words space. Then, there is an idea i wish i could have made more of: things gaining meaning by reflection (see OOS__J, second paragraph). The place for that would be at the beginning of the chapter - as part of a transit stage. I also planned to demonstrate the use of success/failure rolls outside of combat, and double meaning words serving as interaction elements - with different consequences depending on the active meaning. These are important elements of any game and i'd like to have at least an example of each in this first story. One final note: I chose the name 'Vault' to represent the level they arrive at, instead of 'Ark' - that may have religious connotations. The later, however, would have tied well in to the ship idea at the end of Chapter 6...

 

Chapter 7. The Vault Pendan was last to cross the mirror. He had waited to make sure everyone else passed through, and all the time the thought they might again get separated troubled him. Luckily his concentration power made short work of the transit process... A flash. His grey locks thrown back by a burst of wind. The sight... So many shapes and colors spread in every direction. Growing, diminishing, multiplying, and changing... all against a background of the same twilight. "Where were they?" With his thought he turned - the body just following along, it seemed. "Brik! Aster! Fann!" - Each floated at some distance from him... [ 3d6 = 4, 4, 2: success (4-6), success, failure (1-3) ] The Druid turned her head, Brik heard him too, but not Fann. She seemed so absorbed in the image in front of her... "Don't touch it! Don't touch anything!" cried out the Wizard, trying to move towards her. He could not see well what she saw... Passing a small shape he discovered there was nothing behind, nothing on the other side... And all, all images seemed to be the same way! "No!" he yelled, just as the Rogue reached out. But she did touch, and the next moment she was gone. Following his advice and initiative, the other two kept away from any attractions and made towards Fann's location. They only arrived there too late, as well... And now, together, they gazed upon a long stretch of orchard, ripe with alluring peaches. A fresh, juicy smell caught their nostrils, and their hands would almost have moved by themselves, when... "Fann! Do you hear me?!" - Pendan's shout shook them out of the spell. The Rogue's head appeared from a bushful of leaves, then she waved to them. She now could hear, apparently... "Can you get back here?" asked the Wizard. Fann frowned and bit on the peach in her hand. Then she disappeared among the loaded branches. Pendan lowered his brow. The gnome girl was in obvious danger. "The orchard can't be real," he said, controlling his anxiety - "Eating those... peaches can only make things worse. We should either go after her, or try to lure her back here somehow... Her mind seems completely distracted by her belly." Brik and Aster were still confused by those circumstances, but from the Wizard's words and behavior they understood one thing well: There was serious danger of losing their teammate... "Fann!" Aster closed her eyes and tried to contact the trees, from a distance... It didn't work! She may need to touch them, or... get nearer... Suddenly, out of the Druid's mind depths an image of the gnome appeared and winked at her. An unusual thought followed... "To lie?!" - But it was more than a notion, it seemed... almost a perfect plan! "Fann!" Aster cried - "We can't get in. Can you bring us a few peaches, please? ...We're so hungry!" Now that was unexpected... Pendan looked at her with wide eyes, wondering if someone else hadn't take place inside the Druid's body. From the Rogue's tree, several fruits flew in their direction, fell and rolled a bit more - but could not pass the boundary of that image... "They aren't getting through, honey! Come down and bring them yourself," said Aster. Then a couple of minutes passed. "Fann!?" - Brik was about to jump in, when the Rogue's face again appeared. Then a hand, and the rest of her body. She lowered herself and her lap full of peaches along a cord. Then she ran towards them, smiling - a few leaves in her hair, her cheeks and chin of a slight orange tint, renewing that sweet, fresh scent they first felt by the image... "Did she change already?" - Pendan could hardly wait to see her passing through. She reached the surface, she raised a leg to cross - but remained there. She changed hands position to hold her lap-sack with just one - a few fruits did fall - and tried to reach Aster. She couldn't. Without thinking, Brik and Aster - at the same time - threw arms forward, their hands grabbing Fann's arm on the other side. They pulled. She didn't budge. Then she turned her head towards the trees, as if hearing her name called... "Fann! Fann!" shouted Pendan, trying his best to distract her. Pulled by the noise, she slowly moved her gaze back - her expression lost, dreamy... Gathering all his might, the Wizard stared in her eyes and started drawing a spiral through the air - ever smaller, converging to a point, where from to send her his thought: "You are Fann the Rogue. Your place is with us. Pass through!" [ 1d6 = 5: success (4-6) -- Upon failure i would have applied the same 'meaning gained by reflection' idea - some other way. Here we have it applied to the characters, so 'meaning' is self-awareness and available inner resources. -- A little earlier, we had a character reflecting a world element: peachy Fann. A little later, we'll have a world element reflecting a character, and also a world element reflecting another world element. ] The more she looked at him, wiser and more rational Fann felt - her fanciful and desirous inclinations diminishing to the point she let all the peaches drop from her lap. "What strange and childish thing, to associate with them!" -- Pendan, on the other side, felt his mind gradually drained of its discipline and intellectual standards - wisdom replaced by flight of butterflies and the shining of gem-like peaches, found only one step away... "Hold me..." he said, grabbing the Druid's sleeve, while his own legs - to weak for props, gave way to a strong need to pass inside the image. But Brik and Aster were too preoccupied with Fann's fate to notice, and right as they pulled her out, the Wizard crossed in. Feeling free and driven, he jumped towards a nearby tree. Calls of "Pendan! Pendan!" reached his ears - but he only turned his head to smile back, once, before starting to climb the trunk. At his touch, the bark turned blue, then purple - as if inspired by something from within the old man. He grabbed and pulled like a long sort of squirrel until reaching a branch. Oh, it had plenty of fruit - but the branches above looked even richer! There - That clump of peaches had his name on it. And it sounded louder than the team's attempts at his attention. He strolled through boughs and leafage, and... well - "Was he that heavy?!" The branch he stepped on had broken... And out of it came out purple smoke, rising, enveloping the fruits. Funny thing, as the cloud passed a fruit, it took on its shape and color, lending its own to the peach. "Now those were serious peaches!" Light-headed as Pendan was, it felt natural to reach for a wisp of smoke and... just let himself be carried with the big balloon of a fruit going up. And in that place where things are what you make of them, his body became suitably light and followed. Right then, on the other side of the screen - where his team watched, a noise as of wind and of some material wobbling and stretching with it was heard. Fann turned and saw on a much larger image behind them, a great moving surface... and ropes... then something like a large basket... She quickly turned to see the Wizard, then the great moving things, then the Wizard, then - the wizard mind clicked! She climbed up the Barbarian's back in a jiffy and yelled: "Quick! Quick! The basket! Jump!" And Brik jumped - the Druid hanging on a leg, through the second, large image. He did not land in the balloon's basket, but grabbed it in time to reach the inside with little more effort. Thrown by his body move, Aster rolled - reaching a corner, then took time to recover from that rough trick. "Pendan! Pull him up!" - she heard the Rogue yelling. Then saw Brik getting past his surprise to look around. He found a rope and pulled. As it turned out, the Wizard was indeed hanging from it... They were together now, so Fann let herself turn peachy once more. With mellow voice, she shared a theory: that "whatever the image they now were in once was, its current state had to do with reflecting the orchard. And the connection between the images, they themselves may well have determined." Pendan listened and blinked, but had no matching thought. Seeing as for the first time the many pockets his robe had, he started to poke around: Pipe... handkerchief... thread and needle... "Hm?" - his eyes were instinctively drawn up. [ 3d330 = 283, 13, 86: chisel, mist, dust ] "Be that as it may," took over Aster - a concerned look at the changed Wizard, "but Pendan... thinks we aren't safe in these... images." She paused for a moment, then added for emphasis: "Bad things happen if we remain here too long!" Right as she said that, she heard a low hum approaching - then a buzz, and turned in time to spot a couple of mosquitoes sniffing her. While she waved - fighting them off, they all saw the small cloud swarming nearby. Then another coming up from below the basket. And more gathering around the balloon's surface... Through the threatening mist, the Druid noticed something. "Look! There!" - she cried, pointing ahead, a big red flare-up on her hand. It seemed they were passing by another image - like a scenery the parting of clouds would reveal. It was the ridge of a mountain range - a wall of stone with pointed peaks, reminding of a citadel. And right in front of their eyes, a big peak was taking on a round shape - like a dome, like... the balloon they were traveling with. "Quick!" / "Quickly!" they all agreed - Pendan more because it seemed fun. And right as their basket rose above that sight they hung on the skirts of their clothing and jumped. Through mosquitoes, through empty sky - the crossing of which felt more like sliding down a buttered chute, and then through... [i]"stone dust?!"[/b] As they landed on rock - no heavier than the dust, they heard more clearly the sound of many repeated strokes. And through the white, chocking mist they saw the stone being carved as by thousands of chisels - invisible. The more chips fell about, the more the great sculptures took on shapes of pillars, walls, alcoves, statues, benches even. They stood and admired with wonder, their eyes moving from one monument to the next, until... they noticed a few of the statues looked like them! Brik in particular seemed most entranced with the resembling... Thicker and thicker the stone mist grew. Their eyes became red with it and they started to cough. Covering their mouths and noses, Fann and Aster yelled at each other and at the others: "Away! We need to move out of here!" They ran but found the hard dust settling as other walls! Waving their arms, knocking their bodies on half-visible barriers, they managed to find an exit, eventually... The Barbarian arrived last to find the others recovering before one more surprising sight: A multitude was gathered on a large plateau, a courtyard - as it were - outside the temple they escaped from. As he stepped out, a rumour grew out of the mass of people, shortly becoming the unison call "Brik! Brik! Brik!" A shot of vanity went through the big man's core. But moments after, an ever greater noise sounded from behind the four - as if the mountain was splitting. Then the ground shook with thunderous, heavy steps, and between falling blocks and chunks of rock they saw Brik's statue breaking out of that temple, coming towards them. The large and small stone pieces fell and hurt many - Aster the most, of the four... But the multitude kept shouting, as if in trance: "Brik! Brik!" And the statue roared in response, waves of echo and tremor following on from the mountain. It then tried to crush the Barbarian under its foot - Brik rolled away. He was the only target of interest it seemed - so Pendan and Fann, as they could, began to pull the Druid out of the fight scene. "...These things ...change," faltered Aster. Fann at once caught her meaning: "We might... cause them to change," she said - a glimmer in her eyes. "Yes... maybe... we should uh... try..." replied the Druid, ending on a groan. [ OOS: Rolls for - - Fann, 3d330 = 157, 236, 303: cone, vial, axe; 1d6 = 6: success (4-6); - Aster, 3d330 = 133, 43, 126: feather, valley, sting; 1d6 = 6: success (4-6); - Pendan, 3d330 = 86, 14, 16: dust, cloud, sound; 1d6 = 4: success (4-6). Here is a case of the players given a chance to save their characters by unusual means; instead of resorting to GM intervention. -- In case of all rolls failing, the fate of the team would have depended on the fight. ] Meanwhile the statue kept trying to smash Brik and failed. With another roar, it dropped on its hands as on paws, and started to chase him around - beast like. The paw blows, bites, and whole body attacks were harder to dodge... On the sky, nothing. Aster made an effort and pushed herself up a bit. The others helped her sit - leaning against a nearby stone block. She looked around. "No image... passing..." she said, weakly. "So... they had to improvise." Fann turned to see how the Barbarian was faring, and it did not look good for him. "If she could even the odds..." Concentrating, she summoned in her mind an axe's picture. That happened easier than she expected, and - feeling encouraged - she tried to make it appear on the ground, around Brik... But there was so much movement, and the fight so brutal, so distracting... Remembering cord and hook about her, the Rogue took them out, and - in one faithful throw - aimed at the beast. She hit, the cord tensed, and a moment later she was pulled and thrown by the statue's weight. But with a wizard's concentration at work, that one moment before the pull was all she needed. She sent her thought down the wire up to the hook which became a great axe. The weapon fell noisily on the ground. Soon after Brik had picked it up. "Clang! Clang! Aaaaarr!" - The monster wavered, surprised by the counter-attack. Fann had been dragged and knocked on the rocks there until the cord broke. Hurt and dizzy, she rolled, then rose on an arm and a knee. She found herself at the feet of the cheering crowd... Seeing the danger, Pendan - who so far was in doubt about what he could do - followed the one thought memory inspired him with: To make happen again the earlier cloud of mosquitoes. Deep breath in, puffing up, he lowered brows, tensed, and let out through his teeth and lips a buzz - as near a swarm's as possible. It worked! The dust still in the air or lying about stirred. Soon after, waves and waves of stinging particles fell upon everyone there. Fann and Brik too! ...That may not have been such a good idea: The Barbarian now fought both heavy rock and hundreds little needles, while Fann - although free from the crowd's attention - was in great danger of being stomped under their feet. Everyone tried to escape the mosquitoes... But, wondrous thing - the statue hated the tiny fiends too! It started to jump about, shaking its head and limbs, crushing many of its worshipers as it did. Brik, suddenly finding himself free, quickly looked for the others. Then rushed towards Fann, swinging his axe a bit to clear the way, picked her up, and - in a few leaps and a sprint - passed by the still buzzing Wizard to where the Druid sat. Aster, who had kept trying and failing to focus, finally gave it a big heave and - before dropping exhausted - made... feathers appear on her and the others. "Oh..." she sighed - "no wings..." "What was she thinking? That... they could fly out of there?" wondered Fann, while rubbing her own body against the bruises. She turned her head - The Wizard's whistling had suddenly stopped. The thought of feathers had somehow impressed upon the dust too it seemed, for the swarm had become like snowing... Curtains of feathers now danced about, driven by imperceptible currents. And from their midst, the stone beast advanced towards them, slowly, ominously. The feeling that they could not escape sent shivers down the Rogue's spine... His hands firmly gripping the axe's handle, Brik started to run towards the statue. "Aster! Aster!" - She had fainted. "Quick, Wizard! We need something to bring her back!" cried Fann. And Pendan, crouched by the two, tried to figure out what was needed, but... Out of ideas, he started to hum her a little tune. The Rogue, annoyed or just having panicked, jumped at him - knocking him back, then frantically started to look in his pockets. "Didn't you have a vial in here somewhere?!" she yelled. He didn't remember... "There!" she exclaimed, picking up a tiny, thin bottle (which she well could have made up). "Now just think smelling salts! Get it? Smelling salts!" And they both tried to concentrate, while not ten yards away flesh and steel faced deadly rock... "What... what happened..." said Aster, coming to. And right then, the mountain - as if it too awakened, shook a big wave of feathers over the temple and everyone there. "Of course!" trilled Fann, caught by a brilliant notion. She rose, cupped her hands by the mouth and shouted as strong her gnome body could: "Brik! Brik! Find something to hold on to!" From the fog of feathers and rushing edges, the axe shone in response. "You too! Quick!" she told the others, and then - staring at the mountaintop - began to think "cone". The mountain, of course, knew well its shape from before the balloon impression. It trembled, it shook, letting large blocks of stone - or feathers (?) - fall, and all that soon amounted to a nice avalanche. "What..." - "What are you doing?!" said the Druid, not believing her eyes. "There is no way we can escape that!" "What to do..." She looked for Pendan - He had found a big rock that was still rock, and was holding onto it, smiling. "Great..." Aster tried to get up, but bolts of pain shot through her body... Noise from above announced that soon they will be swept from that place, and carried... "Was there even a place to be carried to?! ...A mountain must have a bottom" - she thought - "but can they be sure of that?!" Fighting the hurt, Aster again sat, bending her legs in front of her. Closing her eyes, she put all her strength into imagining that the mountain sloped down into a valley. "But to make the falling smooth..." - she tried to imagine trees, many trees and shrubs, and high grass. The sting in her flesh, however, scattered all detail...

Chapter 7. The Vault (continued) The big white wave swept everything in its path. Try as they might have, they could not resist it. Large or small feather-balls rolling down the slope - they've hit rocks, trees... which however, past the first encounters, felt buttery - as the air in their earlier fall from the sky. And soon after, the mountain - little helped by hurt Aster's wish - reached an end: pieces spread onto twilight deep. With no means to stop themselves, their speed threw them from one image to another. The shock, perhaps - or some other force at work, mixed their minds in the painting of new surroundings... [ OOS: Rolls for - - Brik, 3d330 = 304, 216, 171: saw, statue, basement; - Pendan, 3d330 = 269, 1, 32: harness, stars, eddy; - Fann, 3d330 = 193, 197, 250: rug, quilt, hat; - Aster, 3d330 = 306, 190, 255: broom, room, necklace. Where affordable, a word's second meaning or derived trait will result in a different consequence. The respective characters will somehow select one of two possibilities; or both, in turn. If i won't manage to achieve this now, there will be opportunities at subsequent rolls. ] They were again separated. The Barbarian found himself near a forest, on a small sawmill's doorstep. There was wood scattered about, and close by - in a small clearing - a totem rose... The Wizard awoke on the night sky, a galaxy swirling away at his feet. A cosmic horse grazed not far, on a field of stars... The Rogue was - apparently - in a shop, surrounded by luxurious merchandise: rich colored rugs, silk and silver-thread quilts, various vestments. A mirror faced away from the twilight space... The Druid was... holding a broom in her hand, for some reason. She might have been outside, somewhere, or in a room... It was hard to tell what those were: walls or beams of light... Last feathers were brushed off, any hurt leaving their bodies along with them. Then, recognizing each other across the emptiness, they tried to exit - but the twilight would have them not. They called - their voices could be heard, at least... "What now? Do we look for the way out on our own?" wondered Fann, loudly. "Whatever you do, take care!" said Aster - "We can get lost in these images... Pendan?! Stay close to the surface, okay?" she added, certain by now that something had happened to his head. "There could be a way to switch them, like we did before..." mumbled Fann, her attention turned to the shop. Brik said nothing, just frowned. His strength could not protect them now... Dim light all around him... and nothing to do but look at the others' colored environments - the Wizard got bored quite quickly. He picked up a star and threw it at the horse. The beast raised an eyebrow, puffed, and continued to graze. "Hey!" called Pendan, and started walking towards it. "Neehehehhhhn" it nickered, shaking the head in protest - then ran one light month away, and continued its meal. That didn't work. But the horse seemed fun! Pendan went back to the galaxy, picked it up and uncoiled it, then - making a noose of one end - started to swing. He swung and swung, while the horse paid no attention, then threw the lasso - his hands a bit shaking. "Eeeenhehehenhnh!" laughed the animal, then ignored him. Wrong choice! The second attempt succeeded. Well, almost... he caught just an ear. But - as the horse started to run - he held fast, enduring the rough dragging over pointed stars and bumpy planets of all sorts. Calls of "Pendan" died out behind him... "That could not be happening... could it?" - Aster put a second hand on the broom, as on her staff in the past, and leaned on it, heavy with questions. "Stars and a horse... Could that have been something in... his mind?" And now he was driven far, far away from the surface... "If she could only help him find his way back..." Aster again tried to exit the surface and failed. Gave it a knock with the cleaning tool also, but nothing... Out of anxiousness, her hands sent the broom brush the floor a couple of swings. Dust rose and made her sneeze. And then she noticed the dust shone - blue. She extended a hand to catch some of it, but after a moment's glimmer, it disappeared. It was almost as if... the dust was made out of light! Several hearty strokes and she raised a cloud of that light dust. Then, just on a hunch, sent it flying towards the image's boundary. And it happened that the twilight liked it! More and more dust - Aster kept sweeping, stepping further and further away to gather it. And as she did, the cloud became longer and ampler - stretching between the limiting surface and the mysterious source of light in that space. Soon, light became concentrated in a wide blue beam which crossed the twilight deep, reaching all the way into Pendan's image! "...A stream of stars?" How fortunate! He gripped it, not letting go of the lasso - Felt his wiry body resilience tested, for a bit there - The pull... was too much for the noose's hold on the ear. It slid away... The horse ran a bit more, and stopped. Neighed back at the Wizard in renewed protest, then approached the stream to water its throat. Pendan sat up and started to slowly pull the lasso back into a coil. All that shaking and bumping set his mind into unusual patterns. He felt like... pondering. Tapped his robe as by habit and was surprised to pick up the pipe and go through the motions of lighting it up, and smoking... "Yuck?!" A nebula grew around him. And in its midst an idea shone. Well, the light was actually reflected from Aster's stream, but he thought it was his: He stood up and started gathering stars, one by one placing them in his folded lap. Having amassed a significant load, he called the horse again: "Here, boy! Here!" - "Neehehhn" came the almost-approving answer. A guys thing; luckily, Pendan had guessed the gender correctly. More convincing calls and the waving of some handfuls of stars later, the horse approached and allowed himself to be fed. A few pats and head rubs, then, and the animal accepted him for company. The galaxy became improvised harness and the two went galloping into the starry distance... "If only he would keep close to the light stream..." Meanwhile, Fann had looked around and walked as far as the stacked merchandise would allow, but saw no exit. No door, no window... It wasn't clear where light came from in that place, as there wasn't a lamp in sight either. A counter... a box with some silver and gold in it... a register - the writing there was illegible. Disappointed with her findings, she climbed up the counter and looked around, not sure what to search for... The rugs? Or the quilts... She remembered the impression of quilt covered hills from some time back. "Could some graphical detail there be the exit?" She climbed down and started to rummage through all the rolls of fabric, spending a little time with each to stare at drawings. Eventually, though, she gave up... "There should be an easier way out," she told herself - "It has been so far!" Armed with that conviction, she went for another incursion into textiles' territory. Threw about all she could grab - making a mess of the place - and eventually managed to trip herself and stumble over a big pile of hats. And that's how she discovered: the mirror! "Finally!" - Mirrors they had been dealing with. "Hey! Do you talk?" said Fann and gave it a few knocks, as if it was a door. But the mirror didn't reply, nor did its surface wobble. Then she tried the focusing trick, picturing Pendan's funny face clearly - but no, that thing just wouldn't be more than normal, reflections-only glass... "Not a bad idea!" Fann suddenly broke out of gazing. She grabbed that frame and pulled... and pulled... "It... would... not... budge!" She fell onto her seat. "Darn thing... But still... if it would turn out to be facing the boundary..." ...The point she entered by, where was it?! It took her a while to find a way back to the surface... Showing up from a pile of furnishings, she heaved a sigh and sat a bit to rest. "Fann! Are you alright?" yelled the Druid, hoarsely, from across the twilight. Fann mumbled a "yeah..." and screened her eyes to look over to Aster. "That light... where did it come from?!" she soon asked, enlivened by new prospects - "Can you make it shine this way? I have a mirror!" Short enthusiasm. She could but acquiesce to the fact that the changed Pendan needed it more... "Oh well..." She waved a bored "never mind" and went back to the plan of cleaning up a path. "Fann! Be careful..." The Druid's voice sounded weak. But Brik heard it. He had been given his image a look around, but took care to return to the boundary often. The house he didn't get in, neither did he touch the saw mechanism, or the scattered lumber. Of all things there, the totem drew his attention the most. He looked it up and down a few times, trying to recognize the shapes and other carvings it featured. There were faces, and he noticed that looking into their eyes had an effect on him. His vision would slowly narrow, the edges of his sight blurring more and more, and a sensation he knew when raging would trigger in his gut... He would disconnect from that wooden gaze, shaking his head to dismiss its grip on his mind - but soon feel tempted to try again... The Druid's call helped him break out of such a spell. He appeared at the edge of his image. Aster smiled, sending off doubt-mixed encouragement. "Anything on your side?" she asked, but he didn't answer. Instead he raised his arm, pointing to her left. There hadn't been anything there before, except distant pieces of that mountain... But now she saw a large display of snow covered slopes heading towards the Rogue's shop. Her place was becoming all slopes too - all sorts of covers gathered left and right of the line she dug along. At its end, more and more of a mirror could be seen. So far, Fann had paused only to catch her breath, then kept swimming and pushing... Now that she reached the mirror and took a longer - well earned - break, the heat in her body decreased... and decreased, until - surprisingly - she felt chilly. Her head in particular felt like it caught by quite a draft... Wiping off some sweat, she took one of the hats nearby and put it on. It happened to be a top hat. Black. "Hm, rather manly," she noticed and was frowning at her reflection when... something knocked her on the head! Both hands on the brim, she pushed the thing up - and down came a rabbit. White. Illusionist's edition. It turned to stick its tongue out, then jumped inside the mirror, disappearing in a few leaps. And the reflection there turned white... like snow. And stranger yet, the rug that partially lay unrolled at the feet of the glass surface turned winter-motif and white too... Well, now it really felt cold! She pulled the hat - manly or not - deep over her ears, then grabbed a quilt and surrounded herself in it. "Good!" - At least her teeth no longer chattered. And Fann let herself sink into the comfortable sensation of the clothing. She stood there looking towards her reflection, but rather at her thoughts - "Something had changed. Not how she expected. Now, what to make of it..." Coming out of those musings, she noticed - with half a giggle - that she looked like a snowman; well, girl. And as if that was just what the mirror expected - puff! There she was on the other side, a real snowman... "Fann!" / "Fann!?" - they cried out, but she couldn't hear. And wind had began to mix her distant silhouette with snow... Both her and Brik were too far for reflections of their own... It seemed that the Rogue had passed a point of no return. "And if they were to be together again..." Aster suspended the thought, hanging on the last chance that Brik might be able to cross over. She looked at the shop and his clearing, in turn, a few times. The images seemed balanced, somehow: The fabrics' design reminded of the forest behind the Barbarian, the logs looked like the rolled rugs... And Fann's recent arrangements had resulted in two nice piles of wood in the other space. What of her own place? The light through the trees? The broomstick in her hand... The images may not change further. "...they had to find another way," her previous thought continued. A way inside those images... Unconsciously, her hand rose and gently cupped her own throat, as if holding it in place. Her voice had grown weaker, but she did not pay that any attention... Their fate was a more urgent matter. She let Brik know her conclusion, then - after a last look at Pendan's quiet, solitary stars - the Druid turned and walked away from her boundary. "An image, within my image..." The Barbarian looked at the area he was in again. "The totem..." was dangerous. He must not let himself become like Fann - immobile, powerless. The forest... He walked farther than before, only to discover that it was actually a fence - one he could not hope to climb... "The wood? The saw?! ...The building," something inside it, maybe. The door was open. He walked in. The place looked abandoned and ran over by wilderness. Some scattered kitchen tools, a boot... In a corner there was a trap door... Locked. It had a large, rusty ring to pull on. He tried it... tensed his muscles and tried... He roared! gnashed his teeth - "agaaaain!" but in the end had to give up... After catching his breath, Brik turned his head to the door frame, his mind on the only thing that had responded to him so far. He slowly stepped out. The totem was waiting. He approached it. And then saw something, a shadow. Walked 'round the wooden statue. It was... a staff's. A gnarled staff leaned on the trunk. "Wasn't there before..." Picked it up - Aster's face flashed by his mind's eye. Gave it a few swings - he had lost his great axe again... Then turned towards the totem. The faces stared at him. He rose his arm, and - with no other thought - he stroke. Lightning stroke right after... The pole cracked, smoked, and out of it one of the heads ran off - a buck's head on a real buck's body! In a few bounds it lost itself in the forest; where a fence was supposed to be... Brik followed presently, with only a hunter's instinct to drive him. As he neared the trees, he accelerated, he roared... they moved aside, then closed behind him. [ OOS: As inspiration has it, the characters will move separately from one area to another - trying to find each other; and the way out. I did not manage previously to implement the double meaning idea. Here is the second attempt - - Brik, 3d330 = 48, 73, 151: trail, marble, triangle; - Pendan, 3d330 = 100, 197, 212: shrub, quilt, book; - Fann, 3d330 = 292, 155, 146: peg, tube, hair; - Aster, 3d330 = 65, 218, 95: lava, closet, leaf. ] Pendan's horse, speeding carelessly through space, reached a bundle of very shiny stars - and ran straight into them. Light hid everything, blindingly... then gradually diminished into the glow of several candles. The Wizard was lying in bed... his bed, from... when he was a child. The blanket he was covered in had a pattern of ponies and stars... Yes, "he used to love that one..." He got up, making a book slide to the bed's edge and fall. He had a night gown on... His body - was not that of the child, fortunately. Although it wasn't sure how he fit in that bed in the first place... And the room - it looked and it did not look familiar. He put his feet on the floor, and by the time he was standing he had changed into his usual robe, somehow. He picked the book up. It was... about plants and herbs. The fall had caused a few pages to bend. He straightened them up, then - fingers pressing a flower's drawing - he read "Sy-rin-ga..." It was then when he first noticed the perfume of lilac. It came from the window. He walked to it, leaned over the sill - There was a garden, the ground laying not far below... The more Aster advanced, the blue light and the darkness let out more of a jungle's shapes and hues. And with that: heat, moisture, cries, buzzing, roars, cracks, rustle, hissing... She was on a path, it seemed, and - until feeling tension in her legs - she didn't realize it climbed. Suddenly, after a few curtains of trailing plants - the jungle ended, giving way to barren mountain terrain. After a quick current's reprieve of cooler air, she felt the heat was actually greater there. A few steps further, she figured she might be on a volcano - The heat came from below her feet, as if... lava flew under the rocky surface... The sky was clear, no smoke rose from the peak... "Was there such a thing as underground eruption?!" It made no sense to ascend further. The ground became less bearable with every moment, and this odd notion started to nag her - that rock could open under her at any moment... She turned and retreated towards the jungle. The wind had ended, and snowed-in Fann could only guess how fat she now looked. She couldn't move, but her senses worked. Her nose felt really cold and she would have sneezed, if possible. Annoying situation... Then a crow came - out of nowhere - and landed on her shoulder. Claimed its discovery with a few caws and started to peck her features... "Yeah, you wouldn't like those coal eyes, would you? Lucky i see just as well with one..." - And the carrot nose? "Hope you choke on it!" - and - "Hey... the cold is gone..." But then: "Tock! Tock!" - A few beaks to the hat made a hole through it and the bird reached hair. "Owww... That went too far!" On the scent of the buck, and the trail of occasional broken boughs and hoof-prints, the Barbarian rushed forward. The thrill of the hunt had taken over him wholly and his mind passed from one shade of wilderness to another. Rage lurked in there, somewhere, he could sense it... The ground in his way grew sprinkled with flat stones - smaller at first, then larger... At some point, the trees revealed a tall monolith, with the resembling of a column... Passing it by in his chase, Brik had the feeling of crossing into a different time. He knew - as if a memory had come to life - that he had entered sacred grounds. A distant sound of drums began, and a red flame inside him answered it - dancing on the rhythm... With the perfume, fragments of dream mixed themselves. Pendan felt like being himself and someone else at the same time - then just himself again. "The labyrinth, the mission..." he remembered. He turned and walked to the door. It was locked... "The window" - If he could make himself a rope of the bed-sheets... He put the book in a fitting pocket, tied the blanket and the cover underneath it together, then - with some effort - pulled the bed near the window. A flimsy curtain was added at the end of that improvised ladder - as last resort. The blanket end tied to the bedpost, he clumsily crossed the window frame and began to climb down the wall. The rope, of course, was too short... What to do? There were about three more yards to the paved ground. The lilac shrubs were not far... It seemed that his only option was to try and jump towards them - but as he looked at the thought again, an idea shone out of that dream shroud which lingered on his memory. "Appearances... Things are not what they seem... He can change them..." Then he saw himself as Fann, for some reason, thinking that... "His... beard?!" Tied to the curtain - for one more foot lower... "Really?!" And as if to encourage him, the beard lengthened just then - before his eyes. Then shortened to its normal size... [ 1d6 = 5: second option (4-6), with the beard not being 'bushy', but able to grow plant-like -- No possibility here to return and try something else. To make it a more significant choice, he would not only land on shrubs or pavement - but in an area which becomes totally separated from its alternative. ] He didn't know he had it in him! "Well... wizards do grow in powers while aging..." Pendan passed the sheet under his arm and crossed his legs around the rope's end, underneath him. Then, freeing a hand, began to coil his beard 'round the line. Ending with a node, he paused just to summon up some courage, then - hands switching to beard and grabbing hard - he let it lower him to the ground. On the way back, the Druid noticed there was another path to the jungle. Close to the trees, her anxiousness had decreased enough to allow curiosity some room. She let her feet take her towards the other entrance. The trees there - she soon realized - were clumped together, forming a sort of enclosure. In the shadow she noticed something... She reached and her hands returned with a few pieces of rolled bark. She opened one... There were pressed leaves, embedded in that parchment by time and some process she could not guess. While gazing on it, it occurred to Aster that the leaves were arranged... placed so that the veins of one leaf would continue themselves in a second one. Slowly, meaning came to mind, and the first thing she understood was that the scroll contained a spell - a spell to control lava! Right then, she heard noise from the volcano, and - turning - saw gas bursting out of the ground, here and there. Eruption seemed imminent - She had to choose: Either find brief shelter in the trees' canopy, hoping the forest would carry her away in time - or continue to focus on that strange writing, eventually to attain the power it supposedly was about... [ 1d6 = 3: first option (1-3); where the second option came from 'leaf' also meaning 'page' (in this case, of a manuscript) -- Again, no possibility to return and try something else - given the nature of the event. ] Prudence won, and leaving the scroll where she found it, Aster made a run for the other path. Light tremors already shook the mountain, and she entered the jungle feeling the stones' hot breath behind her. At her wish, the lianas took her up in the tall trees, and there the top branches formed a bridge for her feet. Light were her steps but cautious, and - fearing a fall - she did not speed up even when hearing the volcano roar... "That will teach you!" went Fann, faithful in her wishing power. And out of her memory as a Rogue, she picked up the time when she broke into a hound's kennel - by mistake. That was scary! And just as she had imagined that, her hair stood at an end - hard as wire. Caws of panic! The snowman had pecked back... The bird, dripping a little blood, flew out of there and soon vanished. "So... She now had wire hair... Could she give herself an entire new body?" Well... that seemed to be somewhat trickier. Fann tried and tried, but didn't manage to grow even the missing coal eye back... She lacked something. "Emotion?" but of what kind... She started browsing through random memories... "Hm... That mongrel... Well, that was something... No... No... Maybe... Grandma..." - that last one felt warm and cozy, and she stayed with it a bit longer (even if it couldn't make any difference in her situation...) But longer must have been too long: Something else appeared out of nowhere - the sun! And - feeling cheerful - it started to burn, threatening to turn her and all snow about her to water... "Quick! Quick!" She needed to think cold in a hurry - "Cold... cold... Ice-cream? No, not cream! - just ice: Ice, ice..." Seeing he wasn't welcome, the sun let the surrounding snow enjoy flowing, then left. And Fann started to float like... an ice cube in someone's glass. "Oww... Why did she think that..." Guess what appeared out of nowhere now? A great straw... And someone - she couldn't see who - took a sip of that water. Layers pulled from under her feet, throwing her into swirling motion - Waves raising around her - "Will she sink?!" What to do... More icing and she might just be cold enough to stick to that giant straw. "Or..." The walls of water she saw as waves, rose and crashed - being replaced by other walls. And like waves, they formed a tunnel when breaking. Could such a tunnel take her somewhere? [ 1d6 = 4: second option (4-6) -- This may not be the best example. I don't want people to feel limited by the exact, complete meaning of a word. One could take a tube's hollowness as an option. Or its length to diameter ratio. An idea i passed on while writing Fann's last part was to have her turn into a golem - on tubes... -- Anyway, in the first scenario, one may roll a second time to see if sticking to the straw takes place. If not, Fann would be drawn into the eddy. ] There was a chance to get out of there of her own will. And if the wave tube leads nowhere, she could still reach for the straw. Deciding, she plunged, carried by water momentum, and passed through the tunnel - her vision blurred with droplets and their reflected light... With every touch of the ground, Brik somehow knew he was approaching the middle of that place - The buck, he felt, was waiting for him there. His heart like the drums' beating, he neared the last trees between him and a large glen. He saw the beast's horns and he saw the eyes, looking straight into his. From within, unexpectedly, rage jumped... [ 1d6 = 2: failure (1-3) -- This is to see if he can still control the rage, or has to submit to it. A similar roll could have decided if Fann turned to showman or resisted it. -- Without self-control, the way key words are used for options changes. Choices are made for the character, with no relation to knowledge or wisdom. ] The flame flared up, swallowing his heart and his consciousness. Eyes burning with blood-thirst, he rushed in to strike. But a change took over the buck, then, also... It bared its teeth, as if grinning, and leaped out of his way. Then mocked him: [i]"Hhur-hur-hurrrrrp!"[/b] Brik spun with a roar and threw himself at the animal. The stag avoided him as before, and again waited behind a smirk. Unnoticed by the Barbarian, the drums' sound had increased in frequency. Several unsuccessful leaps later, he almost fell - landing on moving rock: With the beat, the flat stones were slowly rising... Foot on solid ground, he switched hands on the staff and threw it - like a spear - towards the beast... [ 1d6 = 5: success (4-6) and the option coming with it -- The word used here for two potential consequences is 'marble'. He either hits the beast and the blood splattered on rock turns it to red marble, or he misses and goes mad (loses his marbles). -- The idea behind this is that, unable to control his rage - he fights it on the outside; or, rather, his outer fight becomes about it. ] The buck staggered and fell, blood gushing from the wound. Nearby rocks turned red with it and... absorbed it, their dry surface reminding of honed marble. The hunt had ended. And following, rage was quickly subsiding. Brik found himself standing there, muscles tense, breathing heavily. In his mind, the recent events pulsated like memories from a dream. He pulled away from staring at the dead animal's grin. He killed it... he must have been hungry... Yet he felt it not. Gathering his composure, he went after some branches. Returning, he started a fire on one of the clean rocks. The red marble he could not look straight at. He felt... as if being watched, as if some force had taken residence in the blocks. Awkwardly, he neared the blooded stones with a burning log and some kindle. He knelt, eyes downward, and placed the flame offering there. He retreated respectfully, then turned to the buck, and - with bare hands - broke off a hunk of it. The altar received the first meat. Still kneeling, he bowed and mumbled a prayer to gods and ancestors. Minutes later, the smell of fried venison rose in the glen...

Chapter 7. The Vault (continued) Far, far away, in the library room, eager eyes watched how the last page of 'Introduction' was being filled. [ OOS: Rolls for - - Brik, 3d330 = 31, 12, 217: lake, air, mirror; - Pendan, 3d330 = 247, 200, 13: clothing, lamp, mist; - Fann, 3d330 = 136, 327, 73: scale, pill, marble; - Aster, 3d330 = 1, 155, 299: stars, tube, pole. ] Before his skillful beard would untie itself, white mist surrounded the Wizard. It came from behind, from the garden... Free to move again, he began to clear a path. But whatever his breath riding mind would disperse was soon restored. He only had time to see where to step next, before being again surrounded in thick haze. A distant horn sounded. Then, from somewhere above nearby, light shone: in a beam aimed downwards - as far as Pendan could guess. He went in that direction and... found that there was no garden that way, but emptiness: a direct fall of unknown depth. Then the horn called again, and he thought he saw small lights in the distance. "...A ship?" crossed his mind. That might make the building he just left a lighthouse. And his position high upon some rock. He did hear no waves though... Safety in mind, he returned towards the wall. But reaching it, he was surprised to find it... soft, giving to his searching hand. It felt more like curtain than masonry, and - upon creasing - released gentle sounds. He grabbed and pulled aside, a wave of musical notes passing by his ears... "What's cold and comes out of a wave?" went through Fann's mind, and - seeing clearly again - she noticed she was gasping for air... out in some sea! She tried moving her arms and legs... It seemed she was no longer ice cube, but... the jump and the plunge, followed by windings of her body inside the waters didn't bring with them the discovery hoped for... "A fish? Really?! Why not... a dragon?! That has scales too!" she threw back at the voice, wherever in her head it was... And turbulence, foam, bubbles - she was big and long now. "Great... Uhm... A gnome girl in a fish-like suit?" she tried, seeing her anger thought taken seriously. Nothing? "...Don't tell me I just had one wish!?" crossed her mind, followed by a sting in her right side. "Heeey..." But another sting, and another followed, and noise. Someone was harming her... "Ships?" Shooting harpoons... Fann sunk as quickly as saying fish, or dragon, and went as far from the surface as possible. In her path, other inhabitants of the depths swam for their life as well. "Running... from her? Hm..." She took a bite at whatever was near... a whale, it appeared. It was... chewy, and slimy too. Fann shivered at the thought that it could be her meal from then on, and spat it. The whale rolled back into sound shape and vim. It swam away at double speed, while the notion there was something divine about her started to tempt the Rogue's mind... "So maybe it's not fish she eats," she continued, and - having just reached sea bottom - something caught her eye: a large oyster. One tap of her tail, and it opened, revealing a nice shiny pearl. "Yum!" - "Did she just think that?!" Not that sure about eating gems - but feeling brave after her whale experiment, Fann raised a quick swirl - sending the pearl straight between her fangs. Flocks of birds passed in front of her on the sky, groups of monkeys rushed by through the branches, and many alarm calls sounded below. The wrath of the mountain chased every living thing that could move, and laid down in its way every tree. A wind had started from behind, carrying ash and heat, and soon after a great shadow fell all about her. Up there, a dark cloud grew - no doubt, making the Druid's steps more precarious; she didn't look. Placing foot after foot on the thin boughs and vines, Aster was trusting the trees now more than her own body. But the smell of burning timber and the crackling and falling sounds were drawing nearer... "Wasn't there anything she could do?!" she kept asking herself, fighting off the confusion and hurt she sensed in the trees. And suddenly something hit her... She wouldn't turn her head - but then she saw what was, this time passing in front of her: a rope. It swung by a few times before Aster decided to try her luck. It had by that time lowered enough so that she could place both hands and feet above the nodes alongside it. "It must have been her wish at work..." she chose, letting the broom go. Then she felt slowly pulled upwards. Free to raise her eyes, she saw - right below the black mass of volcano fumes - something like a tower, but horizontal: Flying without wings, innumerable lights going on and off in strange patterns along its surface - behind what must have been... "as many windows?" As she went up, Aster noticed how ash circled her. The fragments flew about her like leaves in a storm, yet felt... playful. And further up, when music started to reach her ears from above, she realized the ash was actually dancing! Suddenly, time froze, and Brik saw himself forced to again look at the buck grin, as it came up from his mind's recesses. Around it, smoke gradually covered everything in sight, and then - as slowly - it cleared, revealing the inside of a large building. Red marble staircases, floors and pillars, walkways at different levels and a large hall below: It must have been a castle... Something jumped through him and down the stairs. "The buck?" But it was barely visible, pale, transparent... Smoke still hung around him in the air. He tried to move, but couldn't... His eyes, passing over the architecture and furniture, found a mirror. Adjusting his gaze, he realized that a flat image looked back at him. A... painting. Knowing what mirrors can do in the labyrinth, he focused. He looked and looked at the reflection, trying to see himself stepping out of the canvas... But minutes passed and he was still there, flat and stuck, his mind now strained, falling into forced rest... And maybe on account of his weakening, the smell of smoke appeared intensified - overpowering him, until... the smell seemed the most he was aware of. Whiff after whiff, his senses were drawn and drifted - out from among dried oils and wooden frame, across the expanse of steps, down in the hallway... Unaware, the Barbarian had followed that smell of smoke, pale and transparent like the beast before him, drawn to the same place below. "...A kitchen?" Brik wondered as in a dream, when the smell became many cooked flavors and took the shape of a doorway. Someone screamed - then the scent became noise of falling metal, and more shapes. People running about, furniture... Gradually the edges turned denser. It was a kitchen, and he was alone now. There was food, but he could not touch it - His hand passed right through dish and furniture alike... The stove, the pot on top of it with something boiling - the hot metal, the fire even wouldn't burn him... Some noise close by... A room like a pantry, someone rummaging in there... Not someone, the ghost buck. The memory of the grin made Brik turn and get out of there. "What was that pill?!" Fann felt her body burning, bringing the water around her to high temperature too. She started swimming, moving and turning as fast she could - but felt no cooler. Losing all sense of direction she went as far as the water's surface, and even jumped once before sinking again at high speed. Were there ships about? She wouldn't have noticed... A splash... The Barbarian gave a look back but saw the steaming pot unchanged. Then entered the hallway and started wandering about. [ OOS: Rolls for - - Brik, 3d330 = 21, 191, 313: water, floor, flute; - Pendan, 3d330 = 19, 160, 62: electricity, pedestal, eruption; - Fann, 3d330 = 100, 328, 59: shrub, dice, earth; - Aster, 3d330 = 88, 256, 111: trace, pendant, vinegar. ] The Wizard had entered a tunnel, and followed it to the end to reach another one. Then another. And more... His steps and every touch on the walls released sounds. And from a moment onward he began hearing a distant hum. When he had lost count of the corridors, a door opened to intense light. Eyes adjusted - he saw he was in a huge room, at times crossed by wide electric discharges. Many small lights in the walls went on and off, and what he had taken for a strange melody was now revealed as the many succeeding patterns of buzzing. A pathway led over deep space, ending at the feet of a central pedestal. Above it, some inches in the air, a fiery ball reminding of magma was spinning. Pendan tried to walk towards the thing, but a quick invisible sting threw him back... He sat down on the tunnel's floor, by the entrance, leaning against the wall. The array of random notes was continued in the aroma of pipe and tobacco. Soon after, a small cloud of smoke rose from his mouth - and what did he saw? The smoke and the electric currents entered a sort of configuration... Could he cause walls of smoke 'round the pathway to deflect the harmful energy? He tried... but the electricity didn't comply with such rudimentary an arrangement. "Quite right," sobered up the Wizard - who had been missing the rigors of intellectual application for some time now... And gathering his wit, and focusing, he conjured in his mind an intricate design with mobile, interchanging parts of soot running contrary to the electrons. To top it all up, his progress through that gauntlet was to assemble - step by step - a quite harmonious melody out of pathway sounds. His work done, he put pipe away and waltzed in. The smoke hung or flowed as desired, and with his breath - matched with the steps, went in and out of the Wizard as air through a flute. When finally he had reached the pedestal, the smoke mixed with the ball's. Who apparently was laying dormant, and now awakened. And started to grow... Crazed by the heat, Fann swam straight down - ramming the sea floor, then struggled to dig herself a hole. Ate a few mouths of earth in the process, but she finally was feeling a little cooler. And then some... "The earth!" Not the ground, but the earth that was swallowed! That's what cooled her, the antidote... Coming out of the hiding place, Fann saw the oyster just feet away. And she felt a little angry again... But not that much that she would choke! What was that... She spat and saw... a dice (?!) which... must have been buried where she dug? The dice swam a bit and then landed, figure six upwards. "Hm!" She liked the feeling of being lucky. Reached for it to roll again, that is - tried to - but realized she couldn't move. Long, waving leaves reached out around her... instead of fins. It looked... like six meant shrub, or - anyhow - that's what she had become. "Okay..." - she had been through worse - "At least she had moving parts now..." She strained a bit, mixed a few colors in her mind, and - puff! She turned into a coral. "Oh yeah," now she had tentacles! Catching the dice in one smooth winding she rolled... Still climbing she was, when flying ash found her eyes and stuck to them. Freeing a hand, Aster tried to get rid of them but could not... Hand back on the rope, she kept ascending - She knew she would reach that thing in the sky. How much time to have passed? Minutes maybe, when she felt she was no longer moving up... She wanted to, but her body seemed to have something else in mind. Suddenly, her eyelids felt released, and - pushing against their numbness - the Druid discovered she was looking not at ash, but... at score sheet notations. And the rope she was hugging had become something wooden, with strings! (- a cello -) She was sitting, and there were people around her with other instruments... Her ears as if popping open, the soft sounds from before and the jungle's noises turned into a musical river. It gathered and rose to the ceiling of the large hall they were in, it clashed and cascaded - splashing, breaking into thin streams, and again amassing from all directions. Her hands moved on their own, while more and more she felt a part of the orchestra. She leaned forward, moved by the melody. Right then, it had entered a sad, pathetic passage. And right then her sweating brow dropped a tiniest bit of water on a string. The sour droplet slid and kept sliding, in spite of the many vibrations. And when it reached bow hair, it caused an unbelievably loud screech... A roar of dissonance swept the assembly of instruments, echoing throughout the hall. The ceiling started to tremble and crack, and the great chandelier above dropped a few feet and began to swing... Sounds came from across the hallway, music of some sort. Brik walked - or floated - in that direction. There was a large door, between two equally large paintings which seemed strangely connected... To the left - a stately man in armor and white cape, the folds of which became increasingly crowded nearer the frame. The many shapes there caused the eye to imagine things... like heads of animals. And on the right - a shepherd, surrounded by his flock. In both paintings rain was depicted: through a tent's far entrance, on the left, and all about the sheep and the man on the right. The more he advanced, more vivid the paintings seemed to become. The music - he could now distinguish as the mixture of battle noise and flute guided bleat. The floor turned hazy, gradually revealing mud and grass. Around him, first ghostly as himself - then in denser color and shape, he saw men fighting - on the left, and to his right - a herd, grazing. It seemed he walked among them, unnoticed. Then a great noise was heard, and the floor began to crack - right in between the two scenes. Then, with a tremor, the earth beneath his feet parted - revealing a deep chasm. "Left, right..." which side should he choose? [ 2d6 = 4, 6: right (4-6), in superior situation (4-6) - which means shepherd, not sheep -- To the left, inferior would have meant wounded, or overpowered. ] [ OOS: Rolls for - - Brik, 3d330 = 80, 288, 130: silver, press, beak; - Pendan, 3d330 = 126, 128, 61: sting, insect, earthquake; - Fann, 3d330 = 182, 135, 87: stairs, skull, stain; - Aster, 3d330 = 94, 281, 177: shoot, scissors, pillar. ] Surprised, Pendan stepped back - his smoke useless against the blazing menace. A sting reminded him he could retreat no further - the lightning strikes being in full command of the pathway, now. There was really nowhere to escape - his mind in vain searching for means to avoid the inevitable... In spite of the obvious, he made another step, and many stings received him - the prelude of deadly charge... In that moment, an image popped out in his shaken mind: mosquito clouds - and, in lack of anything better, he focused on that for a chance. His body crouched, covering head with arms - instinctively, while he saw, heard, and knew nothing else than mosquitoes. Around the Wizard, the huge walls had began to tremble, and pieces of metal and lights that went off for the last time fell alongside the electric arches. The ball grew and grew, until swallowing everything in its path... Fann had rolled a one, and - completely out of agreement with sea depths scenery - found her old self again, as she pulled her head out of a water basin. "Almost two minutes..." she heard herself thinking. Breath holding? Drops and trickles from her body became small pools and stains on the floor as she walked towards a nearby door. She behaved as in a familiar place, although her fuzzy eyes could not make much of the surroundings. Door opened, the daylight forced her to cover - then rub her eyelids a bit. It was... a balcony, above a busy market. This vaguely reminded of a rented room, in some city... She turned to look at the chamber. Poor, sparsely furnished, some spots of missing plaster on the walls... That on the chair must have been her bag. She approached and opened it. Every item there was... extremely worn. Rope with loose, rotten threads, rusty hooks and knives... On the table, next to the basin, lay an ornate key - it too rusty. Cleaning it with a finger, Fann clearly saw the embedded skull face. Funny feeling, that it stared at her... Picked it up and weighed it for a bit, asserting control. Then she felt the need to turn, as if the skull's eyes had moved behind her. There was another door, metallic, old, and large, with a sinister air to it. "What would such door do in such a room?" Fann felt annoyed with all those burdening sensations of danger. She walked to the door and tried the handle. Locked. "The skull key." It fit. But just as she turned it, the key broke... "Stupid thing..." The Rogue had just made one step away, when the door cracked open. Slowly. With as sinister a groan as the looks. And that sound echoed away in the darkness... with last returning notes as of malicious laughter. Fann felt dared. But should she be wise instead? One look back at the balcony, and her eyes were drawn to the floor. All the watery foot-marks in sight led from the basin to her position - as if she never walked elsewhere... "You want me to go in there, don't you?" she thought, as if to someone waiting inside, and pushed the door further in. The broken key handle, which lay on the floor, chattered its skull teeth, then rose and rolled ahead of her: "Dink... dink... dink..." - downward, one darker step after the other... The whole place threatened to collapse. Maddened players stumbled on one another, trying to escape - and failing. Some sharp instrument's tip scratched her arm. Drops of blood... Meanwhile the chandelier swung lower and lower. That gave Aster a wild idea... "Should she go with it? Or should she try to escape like the others, or..." Where blood fell, the wooden stage floor gave way to a little sprout. [ 1d6 = 5: second option (4-6); could also have been third option (5-6), although an attempt to escape like the others seems of less promise... -- For the first option i had in mind a parallel between the chandelier and a tree's branches moved by the wind. ] More people clashed near her, forming a new pile. Strands of her hair got caught into something... Using her bow, she cut - freeing herself, and also managing to save a few hairs in the process. Then, holding her cello fast, she rose and slammed the end pin on the floor. Her blonde magical implements in the hole, the floor let strong new life grow. Then, just as a pillar nearby was collapsing, the Druid leaned her head on the merging plant and musical instrument. The wood embraced and covered her as in a tree's hollow... Just as he made his choice, Brik found himself surrounded wholly by pastoral scenery. Clumps of wool plodded about him, on the sound of bell tolls, and the occasional bleats and barks. He turned to spot the pair of shaggy dogs behind all other animals. They wagged their tails in reply. He was himself again, solid as everything around. The shepherd from before... Brik could not figure out where he had gone. But he saw he was holding a flute in his hand, and leaned on a tall staff - "like a crutch?!" Oh, his legs were fine... "Woof! Woof!" - A large shadow swept him. He raised his eyes, and in the next moment dropped the flute, grabbing the staff with both hands. Above circled a great eagle, obviously intent on attacking the sheep. The bird did not seem impressed with his presence, and one more swoop later, dropped from the sky not far from him. He leaped and met the claws with a swing. The eagle dodged and circled - this time to quickly launch itself at the Barbarian's back. Sheep pushed each other out of the way... Brik turned, with another swing - but missed... And the bird landed with all its strength on his chest. Pangs shot up to his brain from where the claws pierced. The two dogs had managed to reach them and jumped to bite. The eagle let go of him and dodged, striking with its strong wings and beak. One dog fell, whining. Brik rolled away... He rose and - while still hunched and bent - threw himself at the beast. The other dog, also battered, had just attempted to reach the bird's neck but failed. The eagle parried and readied to strike with the beak, decisively. And then the cannonball landed. Pushed by the man, it flew a foot or so, until something else stroke from the other side... Stepping back, the Barbarian tried to regain balance, while raising his arms to meet the expected claws. But the bird fell, unconscious, motionless, pressed as it was into a large coin's shape - head up (tail down). On the other side, a proud ram posed for sheep cheering. Rubbing his brow, Brik tried to figure out how the beast could have landed that way - given he stroke wing-side. But the headbutt had been too dizzying, it seemed... He pushed the eagle with the leg, then stooped and reached with his hand...

Chapter 7. The Vault (continued) [ OOS: Rolls for - - Brik, 3d330 = 276, 160, 253: ladle, pedestal, boot; - Pendan, 3d330 = 57, 103, 136: plains, sap, scale; - Fann, 3d330 = 166, 157, 261: bridge, cone, lace; - Aster, 3d330 = 324, 182, 306: fan, stairs, broom. ] Pendan fell the explosion through every inch of his body. Awakening from the knock out he found himself winding and circling through the air, over a wide stone platform extending onto the horizon. There was a swarming and buzzing around and below him, and other noises... Descending a bit he saw dark clouds preying on screaming shapes of... animals and... people. Mosquitoes? ...No. A horde of large, scaley bugs had just zoomed past his right, chasing a large man. "Brik?!" He rushed forward, trying to wave his arms against the flying mob, but... he had no arms. Around him, as close as he could turn to see... there were just bugs... He was... "bugs!?" Filled with disgust and horror, Pendan flew past the cloud - that had just surrounded the fallen victim - and away, up, up, as far as possible... But a piercing scream shook his mind, and - instead of zapping towards the sky - he suddenly found himself running, a black cloud hot on his trail. Nearby, in front, another swarm had left a corpse - dried out, bones showing through the skin... Fann had descended a couple dozens of stairs through sheer darkness, until deciding the dare had gone far enough. "Light?" Immediately, a cone of dim light descended upon her. Then, every few steps, another cone popped up in front of her, while the one behind disappeared (- she checked). That went on for a while, until a cone she had just reached started to follow her. The stairs, after going straight down for a while, started to turn left - little by little. Then a bit more, and more, and they became taller and taller, then shorter and shorter, then went 'round again - until Fann, trying her best to follow, got dazed. And then she couldn't be sure which way the stairs went - but when coming to, it was obvious they had started to climb... Eventually they turned into a smooth, narrow pathway, with no walls or railing to lean on... Apparently she was on a bridge of sorts, for there was a good drop both to the left and right (- as far as her leg could detect). And then the spotlight left her. "Light? ...Light?!" She had just tried a few more steps on her own, when the path suddenly stopped. She turned, slowly, to go back, but... a few steps later she stepped on emptiness once more. "(Jump!)" came a whisper. "Who's there?!" cried Fann, both fearful and annoyed. Silence. Then again: "(Jump!)" was all she heard. "Oh, well..."[/b] - she jumped. And landed a few yards below on... sticky web? "Spider!?" The spotlight returned straight onto her. "W-w-what was that thing?!" Hairy legs, horns, and tentacles! Claws, wings, and needles! Two very long needles aimed at her... "Was it all over?" Aster peeked outside and saw nothing but light. Slowly finding her way out of the hideout, she noticed she moved funny. She couldn't grab much either, as if her fingers kept brushing on things instead of... "Oh..." More light made things clear - she had no hands... She was a bird now. Out on the branch she noticed how far above the ground she was. All around the tree there was just air. Air and dust, floating slowly about. The Druid had a feeling of balance, of equilibrium, and - enjoying it - spread her wings, then jumped further into its source... Flapping from time to time, her wings pushed the particles away, and - as if having more mass than visible, and meeting no friction - they accelerated, gathering into small - then large - clouds, before they disappeared into the distance... Not after long, all that amounted to something else - it seemed, for Aster suddenly felt pushed by a great counter-force which sent her all... the... way... to... the... ground. So hard she even took a few breaths of it before managing to turn back on her feet. It was... dust, concentrated. Wherever she tried to move to, she had to crawl - sweeping the outer layer of that dust with her feathers, coughing copiously as she did. But through the confusion a hunch guided her, and she found within the patience to go back and try again, and again, until one direction brought relief - she could stand fully upward. A few jumps in the same direction and she hit an invisible wall... Bending and tensing those little bird legs, she jumped - flapping her wings hard also. And at the top of that effort, she started to bite and claw the air - but not just the air, as it turned out. The wall had ended into an edge and Aster, somehow, grabbed it and pulled herself on top of what seemed like a step. A little farther, the same, and then more - the flight of steps continuing upward, while the winged Druid could proceed by no more than perseverance and chicken skills... A giant boot appeared out of nowhere and sent Brik flying - just as he was about to touch the coin. He heard a thunder which resembled cursing, and then a giant hand reached for the eagle and picked it up. With the kick, some of the sheep took to the air as well - it seemed; he heard panic bleats. One of them landed rolling next to him, in high grass, and - out of fear, probably - remained like that. Then he saw himself rapidly covered in shadow and felt grabbed by a hand. The fingers squeezed and rolled him a bit, before plunging him into the ground - legs down, fortunately. Waist deep in the earth, he couldn't pull himself out... Another shadow - this time he raised his eyes. What he saw was a clump of the sheep all rolled together into what seemed... a ball. Which was pressed onto the man's head until sticking. Then came another shadow, with a whoosh... The ball flew and, after regaining consciousness, Brik saw what seemed like a giant ladle (- golf wasn't yet a pastime in his age). Nearby, soon, another sheep-ball was given trajectory. He heard the wheezing, and saw a sheep dropping - before the clump became a spot, a dot. More thunder... Then again a hand shadow spread dark fingers above him. "Woorrf!" - Something leaned onto his body... one of the dogs... climbed on the back of a ram, the ram from earlier. The canine had the flute in its mouth - but couldn't press on the holes also... "Wooirh!" The shadow had covered everything - he felt the heat of that hand almost. Then, with no thought, he covered one of the holes with his nose: "Wooyiw!" [ OOS: Rolls for - - Brik, 3d330 = 228, 318, 245: sieve, string, sponge; - Pendan, 3d330 = 1, 202, 286: stars, urn, grinder; - Fann, 3d330 = 148, 250, 11: tentacle, hat, rainbow; - Aster, 3d330 = 243, 122, 104: bucket, ointment, bark. ] The swarming and screams were all around him, and yet Pendan had not fallen so far. Could it be that... "he was already dead?" he wondered, but could not stop to check. He knew one of those clouds was after him, he could feel them... The occasional shadows lasted longer one time. Raising his eyes, he saw a great black cloud parting. Behind it - not the sun, but a huge box... out of which the bugs seem to exit. And there was a crank to match, moving in and out of focus, and a crunching sound as of... a grinder. But what could it be grinding into bugs? One landed on his shoulder and bit him. Desperate, Pendan hit it - with shoulder raised and head leaned that same side - hoping to smash it. The thing let out a fading fizz and fell off. But right after, a few others flanked him... Hanging on the first thought in his mind, he focused on the sight of that box and wished. A moment later, a smaller version fell brim down over him. The cloud behind ran into it at full speed, but couldn't capsize it. Yet there were a few bugs caught inside. He started to wave and swing... But the first punch that hit its target was the grinder's: The mechanism landed one square into Pendan's face. Splash of stars. Knock out... The net grew stickier the more she struggled... Fann tried to roll away, but only managed to move a few inches - barely avoiding a needle. Facing up, she thought she spotted the bridge she had been on - in perfect shape now, apparently... "What if..." - She frowned, and puff! There lay a rainbow now, instead. Needles half way to piercing her - the thing stopped, distracted. Then turned to discover what colored thing it had caught... Seeing her trick worked, the Rogue gave her mind free hand - and the first thing that popped up was a collage of memories from the shop. Feeling inspired, she wished and puff! the web became soft quilt. Puff! and the monster turned into the pile of hats she once knocked off - bows for wings, ribbons for tentacles. She was just wondering which way to go next, when she noticed a hat coming down towards her, from the darkness... Something white below it... The rabbit, that nasty rabbit that turned her to snow! using the hat for a parachute... "Oh, wouldn't she like to get her hands on that little..." But close enough, it all turned out to be a ruse - the disguise of a great tentacle! Another monster? The first turned and viciously threw itself at it. The prey, ignored, started to sneak out... The climb was tiresome and Aster had to give up eventually... What's more, her mind was also diminishing to poultry size. She had to do something... With nothing to rely on other than her new circumstances, she sat and tried to lay an egg. She wished that the chick would be smarter than her, smart enough to find a way out for both. But she did not really know how to make that happen... An egg appeared underneath. She stood aside to admire it. A knock. A chick already? The shell cracked, but... instead of a chirping beak, therefrom rose a sapling. And rose, and grew. And Aster barely had time to throw herself amongst the lengthening branches. There soon was a solid trunk and the crown it sustained was yards over the ground. The tree seemed to ignore the gravity, but the poor chicken was overwhelmed - falling into deep sleep. Some time later, a strong smell awoke her. "Hmm?" tried Aster, getting her bearings as in a dream. Out of the bark, perfumed, invigorating sap oozed... There was a hollow, also - like the one she found shelter in, earlier... Crawling and arching her way up the branch - much like a caterpillar, the Druid reached the hole. With one last effort, she pushed herself over the brim and fell in. Brik felt grabbed from above and pulled out of the ground - the shock shooting throughout his body. But this time his body gave to the squeezing fingers - The flute sound must have had an effect! And, without breaking, he turned thin, and thinner, until becoming like a piece of string. Mixed with palm grease and sweat, he slid through a skin line - letting himself drop onto the... far below... grass, ground. The earth soaked him up like a sponge, the force drawing him a few good feet before he had to add his effort. Wriggling like a worm he went even deeper, reaching rock. But advancing, he found the rock to become more granular and sparse... and moist, soon. "River bed?" Water was so abundant now, about him, that he feared he might drawn... Suddenly, something dug in and scooped him up, along with many pebbles and some mud. Water began to drain out through what could have been holes, below - while he remained standing. Or sitting. He was... bulky now. And couldn't pop hands out to do anything... The thing he was in shook for a bit, causing the smaller bits around Brik to fall out of sight. Then fingers searched through the mud, chose him, and raised the nugget into the sunlight. Down, in the water, his reflection shone like the sun itself. [ OOS: Rolls for - - Brik, 3d330 = 130, 136, 2: beak, scale, meteor; - Pendan, 3d330 = 21, 286, 250: water, grinder, hat; - Fann, 3d330 = 73, 58, 324: marble, swamp, fan; - Aster, 3d330 = 283, 135, 97: chisel, skull, thistle. ] When he came to, Pendan was spinning, and - try as he might - he couldn't stop himself... Something sat on his head, and he felt pain up there, heard stifled squeaking... Trying his best to keep balance, he raised his hands, and they were met by a wide brim. "His hat?" Took that off to see that it was, indeed, his old pointy. But something was still up there, on top of him... Searching, he found a box, with a crank... a miniature grinder. But still, the headache ground on, and the noise... seemed louder, after his hat was removed. Throwing the box away he heard a clash - as of wood on wood. Spinning in that direction, he reached a brink of land giving to a building's roof - and he thought he spotted a wheel on the other side. A pathway lead down and he followed it - trying hard not to fall. In a few pirouettes and one large circle - he reached water, a river. Nearby, the large wheel of a watermill kept turning... and turning... "Ow..." The spinning had just been added a vertical component. Too much to take... black out... Crawling and hiding as best she could - with only the touch sense to guide her, Fann managed to put a healthy distance between her and the monsters. She had felt her way along a few mounds so far, and thought she could rise and walk in their shadow - would there be some light. So she dared wishing up a pale glow... Right in time, one would think, as not a couple of yards in front she saw water. The quilt seemed soaked from there on, rising in patches of floating linen. She tried them with her foot... and, of course, they were sinking. But some less than others. A step, another step. Most solid ground she reached was slippery... There were a few glossy places which stood out. And she noticed they all offered reliable foot support. That is, after sinking an inch or so, under her weight. With nothing else to guide her, she followed them... She had advanced quite far into that swamp, when a strong current blew from one side - throwing her face forward into the water. "Did she trigger that..." Fighting to get up and clean her nose, Fann now faced another current, then another... Finally ending up in a deep pool she had to swim out of... "...Moss?" It was soft, cool matter she had fallen onto. A very light, barely perceptible sound came from somewhere below... like a stream's distant trickle. Her body, released from the earlier pull, felt light and feather-like, as if floating. And Aster sunk into that feeling for a bit, letting her mind wonder... Suddenly, the surface she was on creaked, cracked and down she went - before the confused eyes of some carpenter ants. "A dying tree?!" - Just as she thought that she bumped her head onto something protuberant. Through little holes in the bark, light fell onto bones which stuck out of the tree's brown interior. You'd think... she was crossing a graveyard's ground... "Thud!" ...That hurt. She almost broke a wing... Turning, she saw the wooden walls like boards, aligned... as of a box. "A coffin!" she realized... Possessed by panic, Aster flapped her wings - hurt or not, took altitude, then catapulted herself into the bottom board: [b]"Buk... buk... buk... ba-gawk!" - breaking it, but not enough to cross. Then again: "Ba-gawk!" - breaking most of it and wounding herself in the splinters. And one last try: "Gawk!" and she passed through, beset by tens of tiny stings - as if a pincushion... He had been in the air but moments, when - out of nowhere - a magpie zoomed by and snatched him. Brik was just readying himself to slide through the fingers and fall - hopefully in the river, where water might carry him out of there... But now, struggle all he may, that strong beak grip just wouldn't let go... Shortly after, a whir was heard, and a bump shook both him and the bird... It slouched, half-conscious, but released him not. Above, he could see his reflection in another keen eye - that of an eagle. Direction was changed, they ascended more... And Brik had a golden idea - that if he can't escape the hold, he can weigh it down. So he wished and he doubled, then - moments later - again doubled! Meanwhile, clouds approached rapidly - one in particular... But it was no cloud, it was... a pterosaur! "Not fair!" went Brik, and strove, and pushed, and turned into a whole statue - the full size replica of his old self. And then a meteor hit... [ OOS: Rolls for - - Pendan, 3d330 = 195, 98, 289: blanket, flower, hammer; - Fann, 3d330 = 246, 21, 137: towel, water, skin; - Aster, 3d330 = 166, 50, 71: bridge, wagon, pebble. ] Pendan awoke still spinning, against his will... He was... in a forest, a blanket of... dead leaves under his feet. Some... were green though... Then, passing the same time through a few places, the Wizard noticed his steps were turning the leaves green - from dead! "...Aster?" Soon after thinking that, he came out from the trees into a glade. Spinning... and "Ow..." - and "Ah!": his feet hurt... Still spinning he passed through grass - thorny grass, and flowers - so thorny flowers... Bleeding and hurting, his wizard mind - slow with dizziness - clicked, finally: He started jumping - to smash them, before they can reach him. And like a ballet dancer he circled about, from grass clump to... flower patch, to... tree. And then he dreamt he was spinning... Fann fought against the water... and the soaked quilt face... She wasn't sure any more which was which. It wrapped around her arms, it splashed onto her face - blown by the air currents, knocking her down... choking her... drowning her... She even lost consciousness a few times, but kept swinging her arms, and pushing with the legs - eventually throwing one sheet aside to reach surface. Her long breath in turned to a gasp: She stared at a white ceiling. The quilt... was up to her neck. She was... in a bed... Noise, as of water running, and... splashing. Rose a bit to look, and saw a half-open door. On the knob, a towel - "Towel!" Someone was taking a bath! Her skin crawled... Finishing that deep breath, she sunk under the quilt and started digging. Or swimming... No, digging. This time, the sheets were dry. But... rough, and... bumpy. She would have advanced faster, but had to take care not to sprain an ankle... It took a while, but the surface she stepped on became smoother - and, by coincidence, the shivers left her skin about the same time... Finding herself out of the tree, suddenly, Aster dropped like a rock. Approaching a high bridge she saw - through white clouds - a series of... iron carriages, connected, running at high speed along a road... also bound in iron. She flapped her small wings trying to land there, somewhere - but, reaching the clouds, she started to cough, losing all control... Coming out of the white smoke, she kept dropping - but slowly and ponderously now, like a wagon going off tracks and capsizing. Her wings had gained some strength it seemed, for - as mountain terrain came into view - she managed to glide towards it, awkwardly... She was approaching two great neighboring cliffs, which appeared to be leaning one on the other. Near the contact place: a nest, with hatchlings, crying out for food or... whatever it was... She carefully went past them, but then hit stone with a wing and stumbled. Bumping into that natural bridge, she knocked a small rock off... the rock that held all together, it seemed, for the cliff brims soon collapsed. And Aster with them... But of that incident, she came out bridge-like, arching graciously through the air... doing a few loops too, before she saw ground, and fell... straight into a... haystack. On a wagon. Not all the way down to it, fortunately. At pitchfork end, she declared - also to her surprise - that she landed in peace. She had... hands now, and her old robe, and... blonde locks - everything at its place. Getting up, she prepared to add a few words of thanks when, suddenly... rock from the mountains above struck nearby, causing the landscape to fold as a piece of paper. Pulling fast from under her feet, it left Aster standing again above... emptiness. [ OOS: Rolls for - - Fann, 3d330 = 115, 155, 121: spice, tube, perfume; - Aster, 3d330 = 235, 222, 118: cup, curtain, corrosive. ] Light grew, and the mounds became rounder, like frozen waves. From one to the other, Fann reached a curled edge. Jumped to grab it, then let herself slide down the other side. The letters there were big... She had to move back and forth a few times to read them: "H-y-a-c-y-n-t-h..." and "J-a-s-m-i-n-e," and others with longer names. Reaching the end of the bottles row she jumped down, onto the shelf they sat on. There were other things next: boxes - large and small, spice bags, and incense sticks, and... tubes - "Incense tubes?" She entered one. Leaning forward, the walls guiding her hands, she advanced - each step bringing about stronger fragrance. "Oh... Lavender..." Suddenly, the tube she was in started to tremble and roll slightly. Outside there was noise of things shaking and falling... "Sh-should sh-she stay in-n? O-or Sh-sho-ould sh-she g-get o-out?!" Very soon, though, there was no point in wondering about that: The trembling and swinging grew fast to the point where the tube went cycling - off to shelf's brim, then down. Luckily, landing shortly on something soft... "Choo!" - "Cinnamon?" Unluckily, she landed head down. She had to kick the tube into its horizontal. Then, making it to the exit, stood there looking at things still falling from above... One fell not far from her, breaking the tube. That decided for her. Holding her nose so she won't sneeze again, she jumped into the large spice bag. Digging with arm and legs, she went as far from the dangerous surface as possible, then again upwards - hoping to reach light in a different place... Aster kept falling, surrounded by nothing and the occasional imagery. Now and then, curtains of light reached the space about her with shapes and colors. Once, she saw drawings of drinking people - raising cups, downing their contents... She felt the emptiness of the cups, the strength of alcohol vapors, the liquid's burning down into bellies... And she felt sick... Then she saw giant flowers, alluring her with resplendent colors and perfumes. And had to fight the attraction - as inside their petals awaited poisons that stupefied, and digestive juices... At least to her mind, and that's what counted - it seemed... Unable to resist, she blew towards them - and a curtain of wind joined her effort, sending all stems and petals flying. Or some other time, she found herself in the middle of a cards game - spreads like curtains winding about her. And she felt inclined to count and guess outcomes - "Was she that bored..." Cups, in particular, seemed to catch her fancy. And - on a strange whim - she wished all cards would be cups. She even set herself to change them - one, then another... Heading towards a surface as of a game table's, she managed to change almost all cards of a hand - all except one. That ace of spades... that black tongue stuck out, mocking her... She felt a headache. Then, in a blink, all colors and numbers went wild, changing rapidly to random values. Dizzy... so dizzy... [ Aster, 3d330 = 290, 268, 318: nail, noose, string. ] The Druid regained consciousness while passing through some clouds. They... smelled funny. Looking below, she saw something... A large surface, diamond shaped... with a tail... She tried to dodge, but fell straight through it - breaking the paper (apparently) and tearing her robe on a loose nail. A piece of string, hanging underneath winded around her a few times - but she couldn't catch it... Soon, she saw a couple more kites below. Borrowing on her arching experience, she did a little maneuvering, and slid right past the nearest one. But try to catch the string... It seemed to taunt her, approaching her hand - swinging past it and away, then returning for more of the same. Seeing how things went, she gave up. And the string - just playful, apparently - got stuck in her strands. Untangle it - Now that was no short business: The thing pulled her hair! But, enduring some pain and arms stretching, she eventually subdued the joker. One kite firmly in her possession, she set her mind on collecting another - with less stress. The next, as the following flying contraptions, proved much more docile, and soon she was holding a good dozen of them - or more. She noticed... they slowed her down a bit, and would even carry her, with a stroke of wind, in its direction... Then she noticed the lines of distant landscape below... "Real land?!" ...Burnt flesh. Eyes opening... Grass, black feathers, a few gold coins... In the distance, fog... His body moved... with some difficulty. Memories of the pain endured flashed through it. Brik rose from the knee and stood up straight. The ground, the smells, his body - all fell... normal. As before he had entered the labyrinth. He heard a noise and turned... His foot hit something heavy... a sack - but his attention was drawn by the spinning... person? "Pendan?" The Wizard swirled around, still unable to stop. Approaching with caution, Brik opened his arms wide. Just as they were about to make contact, a mole mound popped up before Pendan's feet, then a head - "Oww..." Fann stuck a hand out to rub off the pain - The old man tripped and fell towards Brik - Complaint turned to giggle, chasing the last remnants of the circling spell off. They rushed to help her get out... Then Aster dropped. Colored, ribboned kites spread out on their way up, towards a sky of ever changing blue shades. Nearby, the endless range of green hills began - as mysterious as before. "Were they out? Was it over?" At their feet, scattered, lay the lost items, the bags, food even - though the sack it was in somehow managed to become rag, since its disappearance. The pile of wood Brik insisted on carrying was there also... And something else they found: four hefty sacks of gold coins, and a note. It read: "Congratulations! Thanks to your effort, the Compendium is once more in good order. You have my deepest thanks, as well as the promised reward. I hope you will find it satisfactory. Good luck on your journeys! You have proven worthy of trust, and I may call upon you again, some day. Until then, fare well! ...Oh, and in case you wondered: You didn't find the exit - the labyrinth kicked you out. There was only that much space on Introduction's pages..." ...The money felt real. The place they were in too - They recognized it as their camp site, from days, or perhaps weeks ago... It seemed odd - reality, always the same, nothing to surprise them. Well, not as in there... They felt as if awakening from a long dream - their minds slowly adjusting to the day's needs and schedule. But... they had nothing before them now - except the long way back to familiar country... They sat down to rest, and - for a while - had not much to offer each other than half-smiles and short sentences. Darkness found them a bit more cheerful - The food had somehow kept its freshness and taste, and their bodies enjoyed doing nothing for hours. The sunset had again been spectacular, giving them appetite for tales 'round the camp fire. Lastly they chose who shall keep guard first: Aster - in whom there still was a trace of lightheadedness from the fall, and Brik - who was just his usual tough self. Then the night dealt out stars and dreamless sleep... (The End)

 

OOS -- End Remarks The Rewarding, the Celebration, and the Parting of ways seem segments of too little interest game-wise. So i kept them minimal. The story took longer than i initially imagined it would. I wanted to offer plenty of examples, to demonstrate many game situations. Let's look first at the relationship between story development and random elements. One scenario was: beginning a story segment with an idea about what was to happen - the random words then suggesting details, or additional elements (limitations, detours). Another scenario was: letting the random words decide what happened; and where. The trick with the second scenario is having to course correct. Then, we have the applicability of random words to either the game world or the characters. Respectively, randomness was used in the definition of the quest goal, the areas, and the challenges - and also in that of character traits (skills and looks, here) and temporary means. The randomness based areas & obstacles combinations gave this story its meat, so to speak. Now, this has been a story built without an initial plan. However, before every chapter, i tried to make an idea about what will follow. I was often surprised by the ideas that came while writing - so the end result was usually more than i could anticipate. A task i had with every chapter - while standing on the sides of inspiration - was to keep things in line. And i could only roughly approximate what is passable. An alternative is to define major key points from the beginning. Then, you would allow the random elements more or less influence in between those points - depending on story length. There is always room for randomness in between obstacles, along detours (made to obtain an item, a character transformation, or to trigger a world event that would defeat an obstacle), and in such segments where information is gathered (when the way of obtaining it is less important, story-wise). Throughout the story, i kept it interesting for myself - and hopefully for you - by continuously trying to make things happen. As much as possible, i tried to keep things moving forward, towards the new - and, sometimes, the unexpected. If i had an idea - i went with it, and then did management. As a result, there wasn't much integration of the past in succeeding chapters, but also i enjoyed more lightness in composing. And i knew i had the past things as tools, should i be inspired to use them. There was little time for 'me' moments: The characters had to be part of the story's development - and, in return, the story was light on them, allowing easy (and often miraculous) escape from tough or unpleasant circumstances. There may have been times where - pace allowing it - i overlooked the possibility of inserting (more) elements of behavior and passive reactions. But i think the characters' actions brought them to life well enough. When i began, i had no idea of what will happen in the story. That's one of the reasons i saw classic types of characters in the initial rolls: I wanted a team that can face most challenges of the D&D universe (- my reference). The other reason is that i wanted people to easily recognize them and connect to the adventure. But you can have any characters handle anything, if you allow them a little magic. I think a special connection with the game world - like Aster had - is best for justifying that. Alternatively, of course, we have our (world independent) magic items. This is all i can think of now, with a view to potential games. I tried to create something reminding of usual adventures, hoping to present random elements as something easy and fun to mesh into traditional story development. If you liked the concept, perhaps you'd like to join others for such a game. It would be great if experienced GMs would gather and take on a first game project, for further research. But the ideas of so far are also something to play with, to enjoy, and the public games of anyone can be something to make discoveries in. I'd try to find myself a place in a game before i return with a second story. By that time, perhaps, others on this site will have given the tools and the principles a go A pleasant time at RPGX!