RE: Court Of Stones
10-04-2019, 09:05 AM
Name: Never really had one, but then the Emperor graciously bestowed one upon him. Phyl. The story is occasionally changed from his full name being Phyl Lament, to Chloro Phyl, but it doesn't matter, only the Emperor gets to call him by this precious name.
Species: Rovers. Sapient gatherings of moss and algae that drift along lakebeds and the bottoms of rivers, seemingly having come there from the ocean ages ago, and wandered around since. Their rolling leaves them nice and round, and it was quite popular among the nobility to keep them in little jars with their prized fish, until Phyl came along and that got capital-a-Awkward. They don't speak, but they can pass feelings to each other via exchanging their filaments, and some of the hunches they have are... very, very old, and concerning. They know it is wise to be wary, and so they tumble along, out of reach of much of the world. But not the Empire, apparently!
The Stone Lord business changed EVERYTHING for Phyl. It changed his form to a humanoid... ish one, and let him speak, and boy THAT was a riot before he figured out how to do it right. Have you ever heard the sound of the feeling of indescribable disbelief and elation? No, you haven't, but the Emperor got to, and it was FUNNY. Anyway, it basically entwined his many filaments with fungus, and turned him into a lichen-person who can say things and have hands and stuff. God, he loves hands. He clings to a nice unfinished rock to sleep now. Sleeping is awesome. As much as he loves learning and stuff, that's one of the best perks.
Title: The Deploratorian. Something akin to the head scientist, or perhaps alchemist, of the Empire. Going through reports from research institutions, delegating subjects of study, taking requests from the Emperor, and doing his own personal research. All compiled together with his ancient hunches, to give more wisdom to His Greatness.
Your Office: The Deploratorium, of course! A cavern underneath the castle, fortified so it doesn't take the place down with it every time it blows up. All finished with fantastical scientific equipment, and whisps and.......................... other things to experiment on. It's pretty messy, he leaves outcroppings of his filaments on the walls as notes.
Short history and description: Phyl knew he was himself and not another memory when he discovered... ambition? He wanted to know more about his great great great great great grandmoss's feeling of unease toward a strange waterway around some tall, tall structure to the south. It was pretty frustrating to know that, and not know why they were uneasy, but this frustration was not shared by anyone around him, who promptly returned his filaments. This is unusual, a filament is a gift, it is knowledge, and that was one no-one cared to have. They already knew it was bad, they didn't need to go die finding out why. Well, that just sounded like a bunch of crap to Phyl. He was going to take his chances. He was going to learn something, and stop living a cowardly life with the herd.
A few weeks later, a tiny ball of algae rolled up out of the moat, and the Emperor, smitten, decided to play with it. With some messed up magic. Phyl was born anew, and for a while he served only as a curious companion, but the Emperor soon saw some use for all that hunger for knowledge. Over years of adoration and reckless well-funded inquiry (and the ethical restraints of a just-born mad scientist), the Deploratorian came into his knowledge, and position.
He is as humanoid as a fruticose lichen can be, and four feet of round, shrubby, dusty olive green. He likes to wear a maroon hooded poncho, because he thinks it makes him look more mysterious and smart, and so yearns for the Emperor's high opinion.
Are you brave enough to openly nominate yourself for the position of Stone Regent? Well of course, I know the Emperor best! I know what he would have wanted.
And lastly: Oh, it's so hard to pick! He's so kind and loving- well, that 'tough love' as I've heard it said, and generous and wise and beautiful and- oh! There's something! He is such a snappy dresser. His clothes are all covered in gems with beautiful symbols on them, so tantalizingly mysterious- but he won't tell me what they are! Must be some kind of rune- but nobody in the castle seems to have a clue. Only that if we were to see one on someone else, they must immediately be reported, for only the Emperor is allowed to wear those patterns, and only a dangerous miscreant would dare to.
Species: Rovers. Sapient gatherings of moss and algae that drift along lakebeds and the bottoms of rivers, seemingly having come there from the ocean ages ago, and wandered around since. Their rolling leaves them nice and round, and it was quite popular among the nobility to keep them in little jars with their prized fish, until Phyl came along and that got capital-a-Awkward. They don't speak, but they can pass feelings to each other via exchanging their filaments, and some of the hunches they have are... very, very old, and concerning. They know it is wise to be wary, and so they tumble along, out of reach of much of the world. But not the Empire, apparently!
The Stone Lord business changed EVERYTHING for Phyl. It changed his form to a humanoid... ish one, and let him speak, and boy THAT was a riot before he figured out how to do it right. Have you ever heard the sound of the feeling of indescribable disbelief and elation? No, you haven't, but the Emperor got to, and it was FUNNY. Anyway, it basically entwined his many filaments with fungus, and turned him into a lichen-person who can say things and have hands and stuff. God, he loves hands. He clings to a nice unfinished rock to sleep now. Sleeping is awesome. As much as he loves learning and stuff, that's one of the best perks.
Title: The Deploratorian. Something akin to the head scientist, or perhaps alchemist, of the Empire. Going through reports from research institutions, delegating subjects of study, taking requests from the Emperor, and doing his own personal research. All compiled together with his ancient hunches, to give more wisdom to His Greatness.
Your Office: The Deploratorium, of course! A cavern underneath the castle, fortified so it doesn't take the place down with it every time it blows up. All finished with fantastical scientific equipment, and whisps and.......................... other things to experiment on. It's pretty messy, he leaves outcroppings of his filaments on the walls as notes.
Short history and description: Phyl knew he was himself and not another memory when he discovered... ambition? He wanted to know more about his great great great great great grandmoss's feeling of unease toward a strange waterway around some tall, tall structure to the south. It was pretty frustrating to know that, and not know why they were uneasy, but this frustration was not shared by anyone around him, who promptly returned his filaments. This is unusual, a filament is a gift, it is knowledge, and that was one no-one cared to have. They already knew it was bad, they didn't need to go die finding out why. Well, that just sounded like a bunch of crap to Phyl. He was going to take his chances. He was going to learn something, and stop living a cowardly life with the herd.
A few weeks later, a tiny ball of algae rolled up out of the moat, and the Emperor, smitten, decided to play with it. With some messed up magic. Phyl was born anew, and for a while he served only as a curious companion, but the Emperor soon saw some use for all that hunger for knowledge. Over years of adoration and reckless well-funded inquiry (and the ethical restraints of a just-born mad scientist), the Deploratorian came into his knowledge, and position.
He is as humanoid as a fruticose lichen can be, and four feet of round, shrubby, dusty olive green. He likes to wear a maroon hooded poncho, because he thinks it makes him look more mysterious and smart, and so yearns for the Emperor's high opinion.
Are you brave enough to openly nominate yourself for the position of Stone Regent? Well of course, I know the Emperor best! I know what he would have wanted.
And lastly: Oh, it's so hard to pick! He's so kind and loving- well, that 'tough love' as I've heard it said, and generous and wise and beautiful and- oh! There's something! He is such a snappy dresser. His clothes are all covered in gems with beautiful symbols on them, so tantalizingly mysterious- but he won't tell me what they are! Must be some kind of rune- but nobody in the castle seems to have a clue. Only that if we were to see one on someone else, they must immediately be reported, for only the Emperor is allowed to wear those patterns, and only a dangerous miscreant would dare to.