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Entry tags:
November newbie intro log
Who: Emet-Selch and anyone
Status: Open
Where: Generally around Eltrut since he's new and wouldn't be doing too much exploring just yet
What: Emet-Selch has an exhausting first few days trying to acclimatise to this new land
Warnings: None at the moment
(Will match format)
1. MANTA board - Claws and Companions
Status: Open
Where: Generally around Eltrut since he's new and wouldn't be doing too much exploring just yet
What: Emet-Selch has an exhausting first few days trying to acclimatise to this new land
Warnings: None at the moment
(Will match format)
1. MANTA board - Claws and Companions
Ever since he disembarked from the Royal Fortune, he cannot fail to notice a small, white tag-along.2. Inkwave Tattoo Parlour
The bold little creature - one white-furred feline - has been eyeing him for a while. Emet-Selch doesn't know if it's hungry, belligerent, or simply curious, but he had noticed that it was particularly good at catching rats. Assuming it to be someone else's pet, however, he had mostly ignored it. But he can't ignore it now.
It finally boldly marches up to him and twines around his ankles as he pauses by a market stall. He tuts and stoops to pick the cat up. Almost immediately, it wriggles out of his grip and crawls on to his shoulders where it seems quite content to sit indefinitely.
"...I don't have the means to feed an extra stomach, you know."
But he doesn't try to shoo the cat away. Instead, he sighs, and continues on his way. He still has a few other places to visit for supplies - and he also needs to find that buried chest with all his original clothes.
First on the agenda has to, of course, be to regain his magical abilities. Emet-Selch's mouth turns down at the corners when he sees the means by which it will happen. Tattoos (and other body markings) are not really something he likes. Mostly because of the pain or bother which accompanies their upkeep. But he heads inside regardless because the thought of living here without his magic is even less desirable.3. MANTA board - Spellbound Circuitry
There are a few options here:
a) You see him waiting his turn for a tattoo, deep in thought over the design he wants for his own.
b) You hear him arguing with the tattoo artist over the location of the mark. ("--And I'm telling you that I don't want it above my crotch!")
c) You see him outside afterwards, unhappily and self-consciously rubbing his backside. Seems like the artist did accept a compromise of a sort...
d) Some other equally amusing scenario???
"No, no, this is incredibly inefficient. What incompetent fool has been teaching you this?"4. Wildcard
Emet-Selch sits at a table, shaking his head firmly at a strange (or perhaps not so strange) design. His raised voice is difficult to miss should one wander by.
"You have the right idea for foci, yes, but you can't expect the user to power their own contraptions all the time. What do you expect those lacking in magic to do, hmm?"
He waves away protest and starts pulling bits and pieces towards him, starting to assemble something that looks almost like a staff - only it's one made of metal with a gem focus.
Any other ideas? Feel free to DM me or plot with me.
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[ He squints at the crudely drawn landmarks. At least it seems to be somewhere nearby rather than on another island? He has no idea where anything is though. ]
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[ Teasing, teasing. Mostly. ]
As for your belongings being guarded, they are not.
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Wonderful. Then any vagrant could make off with the one thing I can call my own right now. Excuse me whilst I endeavour to show less skin than I already do.
[ He turns and starts walking in...what he hopes is the right direction. ]
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[ And yet G'raha is going to follow. Not saying a word that Emet-Selch is going in the wrong direction.
He's not that nice, after all. ]
To think that the magicks of this place could even pluck one from the aetherial sea...
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[ He mutters, squinting at the map, comparing it to landmarks. ]
I was rather enjoying my death. No duty weighing me down, the freedom to sleep whilst adrift on the aetherial currents...
[ He heaves a loud, tired sigh, slumping. Should he even bother finding his clothes? He's fairly certain that is all that he'll find in this chest. ]
I never liked treasure hunting.
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[ He is going to just pluck that map out of Emet-Selch's hands. Look how bold this creature has gotten since returning to the Source. Or something to that effect.
G'raha takes a look at it and then starts off in a different direction. ]
Now you say you've never liked it and yet you have sent our dear, dear Warrior off on a treasure hunt of sorts.
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What is that supposed to mean? What treasure hunt did I send them on?
EW and beyond spoilers just saying
[ "Our" being the Warrior of Light and the rest of the Scions, of course.
Now it doesn't matter if the once Ascian is glaring at him or not. G'raha could care less about that as he weaves through the town and towards the outskirts. ]
In fact, I have been looking into the Twelve on behalf of the Students. My friend has been accompanying me when not attempting to save a dragon stuck on the Thirteenth.
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[ And then when Elidibus had also been defeated, Hydaelyn had quite rudely dragged him back to the Source's aetherial sea. He's still not sure why. ]
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[ Because it is sounding like Emet-Selch is speaking of those final moments in Amaurot. ]
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[ He halts abruptly. No, he DID see them there. The memory drags itself out of the depths of his mind, sharp and clear. Elpis. Hermes. Meteion's report.
And the Warrior's damn puppy eyes.He slowly lifts a hand to his head, staring at the ground. His fingers curl into his hair, still matted from his dip in the sea. There are many thoughts racing through his mind right now but they can best be summarised thus:
Shite.
Excuse him, he's going to wander to the nearest rock or wall and collapse on to it and wonder what the point of the last twelve thousand years was. ]
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Instead he follows after the man. Slowly and cautiously. G'raha doesn't consider them to be enemies, but it would be a lie to say that he trusts him completely. It would also be inconsiderate for him to believe Emet-Selch would share the same feeling. ]
Emet-Selch?
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[ He stands abruptly and stalks past G'raha. An aetherial greatsword forms in his hand as he approaches a tree. Gripping his weapon in both hands, he swings it over and down.
Crack!
The poor, innocent tree, spliced neatly on a diagonal, topples with a roar of foliage. Emet-Selch's aetherial weapon dissipates moments after as the man himself stands there, breathing heavily and glaring down. ]
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Nor had he dealt with being one of the only survivors for as long as Emet-Selch.
At least there is no flinching during the temper tantrum. Honestly, G'raha gets it. He might have wondered the same thing. ]
As someone who knows how it will all play out in the end... I can't say I disagree with Venat's methods.
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[ He snaps this over his shoulder but doesn't turn around. If he does, he feels he might be tempted to attack G'raha. ]
As someone who was there from the very beginning, she could have done far more to avert disaster.
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You misunderstand. I say this not because it would mean the survival of the star as I would know it, Emet-Selch. The Sundering, whether you agree or not, was the best option for the continued survival of Etheirys.
[ Though G'raha doubts that Emet-Selch will ever fully believe such a thing. Even if he does, the man's pride will never allow for him to acknowledge it. ]
Etheirys would always be under threat of Meteion even if your plans with Zodiark had entirely succeeded. The only reason that those of our era managed was because of the advantage granted to us by being lesser, by not having as much aether as you and yours. Both Zodiark and Hydaelyn are gone. Meteion has been managed. It is the best possible scenario for anyone who is a true steward of the star.
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He waves his weapon away and finally turns back around, crossing his arms with a scowl. ]
And who are you to judge my people as incapable of changing to meet Meteion's doom? Justify yourself however you like - we will never see eye to eye on this matter.
[ He glances back at the town they've come through. ]
I'm not particularly interested in reviving this debate either, Exarch. So if you don't wish to be on the wrong end of my weapon, I'll thank you not to speak of it and rub further salt in a dead man's wound.
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No, I imagine that we won't. [ Not taking the bait about the whole "who are you to judge." After all, he hadn't done that. Venat - Hydaelyn had. ] Need I remind you that I initially came along to be assistance.
[ His tail whips behind him. G'raha's also not really interested in arguing. All of it is now moot, considering what the results had turned out to be. ]
Which means that I have no quarrel with you and do not seek one. Though if you do not wish to engage along that lines of conversation, then do not think I am actively "rubbing salt in a wound," so to speak.
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Fine. Then where in the seven hells are you trying to take me?
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Neither here nor there, G'raha supposes... ]
Where do you think? To the location pointed out on the map, of course. You seemed quite lost.
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Yes, yes, but I meant where exactly? The wilderness? A village?
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[ G'raha is going to point to where "x" marks the spot. ]
This is located near one of the alleyways, close to the edge of the village.
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They left my possessions where any vagrant could come across them?
[ He sounds mortally offended. Outraged, even. ]
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Though less and less should you take longer to find them.
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Fine. Show me.
[ You're not getting a 'please', catboy. ]
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