RE: Quest for the Gemgark
07-17-2012, 12:25 PM
Idealana pored over the book. As much as she hated to admit it, she had the unfortunate propensity to overthink responses to situations - overthinking at all being a fairly fatal oversight in a spitesprite’s line of work. But she applied it to the task at hand now, trying to find patterns in the strange language. The illustrations helped more than a cursory examination might have revealed - through them she could see some common threads of etymology, descending through the twisting symbols. It was all strangely familiar...
Then she came to the torn page in the center, and turned the book the right way up.
About then, a hulking lump of clay with miscellaneous parts protruding from its bulky mass approached the table. Without sparing more than a glance, Idealana saw the engraving on its forehead, the solid construction, devoting a few second’s thought to how one could incapacitate such a badly-made golem should it turn violent before returning to the more primary task, which was looking around to see if anyone had noticed her inability to read upside down.
"SLPBS1. I am looking for allies. Can offer assistance with finding, accessing information. May I see the book?"
The spitesprite’s body tensed, long fingers tightening around the journal, eyes flickering back and forth along the ceiling, plotting an escape route along the eaves-
“Idealana.” Sweepingly, Aureole stepped in between the clay and the shadow. “S...LPBS1. What is your purpose here?”
Wordlessly, the golem indicated the nigh-indecipherable scrawl on its forehead.
“Yes, you wish to learn. But learning has a price, little golem. What can you offer us, in return for our knowledge?”
“My own. I have knowledge in many fields.” SLPBS1 gave its crude clay shoulders a shrug. “Perhaps protection, as well.”
“Ha!” the spitesprite spat then - “What use would you be as a protector?”
“I have knowledge in many forms of self-defense and martial art.” Yet the tone of the shadowy one did shake SLPBS1’s own confidence. It wondered, not for the first time, if the techniques so illustrated in the books and scrolls as being performed by slightly more flexible and lithe beings could really apply to itself. A little forlornly, its head tilted to affix its gaze on the ground.
“I know what makes a good bodyguard, clay man. They are the ones you take out when they are not on duty, so that the inept ones are assigned the bedchamber that night.”
In an instant the golem raised its head - so suddenly that Idealana’s hand reflexively moved.
“Then teach me. I will learn.” With infinite care, the golem snapped the handle off the knife in its shoulder and let it fall to the floor with a quiet thud.
The spitesprite stared, momentarily speechless, as a clay hand smoothed slightly softer clay over the blade now buried in its body. A grudging smile made its way across her pale face, thin lips never parting. “Okay. Okay, clay man. You are not weak, but you are unskilled. What we call...nalliyn.”
SLPBS1 searched its memory for the word... “Middle Sprite. ‘Potential?’”
Idealana laughed mirthlessly. “Spitesprites have long interpreted the language of our brethren...differently. It means to me exactly what I told you. But come - that is two things we are now giving you. What of the return?”
Festinger chose that moment to finally reach the table after an epic journey of fits and starts and many rests. He proceeded to take another one by flopping facefirst over the tabletop.
Then she came to the torn page in the center, and turned the book the right way up.
About then, a hulking lump of clay with miscellaneous parts protruding from its bulky mass approached the table. Without sparing more than a glance, Idealana saw the engraving on its forehead, the solid construction, devoting a few second’s thought to how one could incapacitate such a badly-made golem should it turn violent before returning to the more primary task, which was looking around to see if anyone had noticed her inability to read upside down.
"SLPBS1. I am looking for allies. Can offer assistance with finding, accessing information. May I see the book?"
The spitesprite’s body tensed, long fingers tightening around the journal, eyes flickering back and forth along the ceiling, plotting an escape route along the eaves-
“Idealana.” Sweepingly, Aureole stepped in between the clay and the shadow. “S...LPBS1. What is your purpose here?”
Wordlessly, the golem indicated the nigh-indecipherable scrawl on its forehead.
“Yes, you wish to learn. But learning has a price, little golem. What can you offer us, in return for our knowledge?”
“My own. I have knowledge in many fields.” SLPBS1 gave its crude clay shoulders a shrug. “Perhaps protection, as well.”
“Ha!” the spitesprite spat then - “What use would you be as a protector?”
“I have knowledge in many forms of self-defense and martial art.” Yet the tone of the shadowy one did shake SLPBS1’s own confidence. It wondered, not for the first time, if the techniques so illustrated in the books and scrolls as being performed by slightly more flexible and lithe beings could really apply to itself. A little forlornly, its head tilted to affix its gaze on the ground.
“I know what makes a good bodyguard, clay man. They are the ones you take out when they are not on duty, so that the inept ones are assigned the bedchamber that night.”
In an instant the golem raised its head - so suddenly that Idealana’s hand reflexively moved.
“Then teach me. I will learn.” With infinite care, the golem snapped the handle off the knife in its shoulder and let it fall to the floor with a quiet thud.
The spitesprite stared, momentarily speechless, as a clay hand smoothed slightly softer clay over the blade now buried in its body. A grudging smile made its way across her pale face, thin lips never parting. “Okay. Okay, clay man. You are not weak, but you are unskilled. What we call...nalliyn.”
SLPBS1 searched its memory for the word... “Middle Sprite. ‘Potential?’”
Idealana laughed mirthlessly. “Spitesprites have long interpreted the language of our brethren...differently. It means to me exactly what I told you. But come - that is two things we are now giving you. What of the return?”
Festinger chose that moment to finally reach the table after an epic journey of fits and starts and many rests. He proceeded to take another one by flopping facefirst over the tabletop.
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So very British / But then again | People are machines Machines are people | Oh hai there | There's no time
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Superhero 1920s noir | Multigenre Half-Life | Changing the future | Command line interface
Tu ventire felix? | Clockwork for eternity | Explosions in spacetime