Re: Intense Struggle Season 2! (Round 3: Castle Suterrea)
03-29-2011, 03:32 AM
Originally posted on MSPA by Pinary.
Lloyd needed a hat.
That is, Lloyd Conrad the escaped fictional character needed a hat. The other him, the one who had barged into his mind on arrival and was familiar with the setting and backstory of the current location, was quite content without one. He had more pressing things on his mind- the assortment of monsters plaguing the castle, for example, or the recent loss of the rest of his party.
He'd come to the castle for the same reasons any adventurer would, ostensibly- cleanse the region of evil, make off with the vast riches stored in the vast dungeons below, and gain all the EXP he could. (In truth, the chaotic-neutral wizard was mostly along for the fun of it. Sure, EXP and riches were good, but they were ends, and he was all about the means.)
For now, though, Lloyd simply chose to ignore that new part of him and concentrated on finding some sort of headgear. He refused to do anything else until he had something on, and Eloyd'k En-Rad would just have to shut up until then.
Whenever Lloyd was transferred into a novel that didn't center solely around humans, he'd take on the appropriate species for the story. Even if humans were the most common race, he'd sometimes take on a species that would put him just far enough from the norm to not be unusual.
He never really enjoyed that.
Eloyd'k En-Rad the elven wizard waited patiently while Lloyd rooted around the deserted servants' quarters for something to cover up his new, rather prominent ears.
-
The long, gloomy corridor got boring fast. It seemed to go on indefinitely, dull, impenetrable gloom in either direction. The worn, faded tapestries and paintings that hung from the wall all seemed the same- a portrait of some sort of regal person in some sort of regal pose, a scene in which two groups of soldiers stood holding weapons, a tranquil scene with a pond, some trees, and maybe a few clouds. Each was unique, but unique in the exact same way. They seemed to blend together after next to no time, and it had only been five or so minutes before he found himself relieved to hear something rustle and scrape behind him.
The boredom didn't dull his reflexes, of course, and he'd barely registered the welcoming sigh he'd made before he found that his weapon was pointed squarely at the elf that was hanging halfway from behind a tapestry.
Marcus snorted.
"Not. One. Word." Had it not been for the magic Lloyd found himself in possession of in this particular world, Marcus would have figuratively felt blistering waves of anger radiating from him. As it was, it wasn't figurative. He took a step back and offered a gesture of half-hearted placation. Lloyd just glared scathingly at him for a moment longer, then shot a look down the corridor in either direction and withdrew back into the tapestry.
Almost immediately, he leaned back out again, frowning- this time, not because he was annoyed, but because he was perplexed.
He stepped all the way through and stared intently at the gloomy darkness that concealed the corridor in the direction Marcus had been going. A few seconds later, he switched, staring at the way he'd come. Taking a few steps down the corridor, he did so again.
Marcus looked on with bemusement. Something about the bookworm's demeanour suggested that comments wouldn't exactly be met with enthusiasm, and Marcus was quite satisfied to just look on, barely suppressing his amused grin.
Lloyd's appearance hadn't really changed between the first and second rounds. He'd been the same general size and proportions, his shirt remaining Hawaiian and his hair wiry and black. There'd been much less variation then than there was now- he'd added nearly a foot or so to his already-on-the-high-end height, and it had seemingly all come from his limbs. There hadn't been much mass added, either- he seemed to have been stretched, his once-reasonably-acceptable form made willowy and even more gaunt than before.
The ears, though, were what really got Marcus. They were ridiculous, points rising to just an inch or so shy of the top of his head, standing a bit out like two wide, flat antennas, a bat's ears stretched and plastered to the side of his head.
His outfit, too, had changed with the setting. What had previously been a shirt and slacks were now long, flowing robes, all decorated with an entirely out-of-place pseudo-floral pattern. It looked more like the type of thing a kindly aunt would wear than what belonged on a dignified spellcaster of his caliber. Its material was a bit heavier than his old shirt, and had Marcus noted it past "not armoured" on the few occasions it had flapped open a bit to reveal boring, brown clothes, he would've seen a soft, terrycloth-esque material lining the inside of the robe in a shade rather reminiscent of the towel he'd grabbed while aboard the train.
Abruptly, after a fair bit of stalking and staring, Lloyd turned sharply to Marcus. "It's a trap," he said, his voice coming out much quieter than he intended. He coughed, cleared his throat, and tried again. "It's a trap," he said, taking as much effort as a shout to just speak at a normal level.
Marcus forgot for a moment about his apparent ally's amusing appearance at those words. His grip tightened on his gun once more, and he started a standard moderate-threat glancing pattern back and forth around the hallway.
Lloyd rolled his eyes. "Not that sort of trap," he hissed, leaning closer to the mercenary rather than raising his voice. "I can see it, it's got a sort of... residue, I suppose, is the closest term."
"Closest, what?"
"English and Elvish don't exactly translate directly all the time, not being descended from a common linguistic ancestor." Eloyd'k had done a fair bit of reading on the subject of linguistics at one point, and for each of the dozen languages he knew, he could rattle off their history back to the point where "ug" became a verb. "There was magic cast here before, and some part of it remains. It's still doing things, still active, but it's no longer drawing energy from its caster."
Marcus shot the wizard a look. "ImpCom, man, ImpCom." The phrase didn't exactly communicate what he'd intended it to, though, and Lloyd just continued on.
"You've probably been walking here for a bit, yes? Boring, consistent hallway, just enough changing to disguise the loop."
"Loop?!"
"Yes." Lloyd leaned in a bit closer, but he found it hard to both gesture with his hands and be close enough to be heard well at the same time, so be just backed up a step or two and shouted in order to get his voice to something normal. (Marcus found the disparity between Lloyd's apparent effort and actual volume a bit disconcerting, but it just blended with the rest of his companion's appearance and made him stifle another smirk.)
"I was in a room, searching for something, and I heard footsteps coming from a wardrobe. I opened it, saw that the back was simply an illusion, and went back to searching. Secret passage, nothing new in this place." He took a breath and kept going- it was way too much effort for him to talk at a normal tone. "When I heard a very similar set of footsteps coming by, I took note but didn't investigate. When they came by again, I stuck my head out and looked around. I saw you, noticed that there was magic in either direction, and came back here. You haven't gone much of anywhere."
"So wait, if-"
Lloyd leaned back in close, tired of raising his voice. "No, going back won't work. These loops generally go in both directions, designed to trap you here before you know it and starve you to death." Lloyd had to admit, Eloyd'k certainly had a low threshold for putting up with annoyances. He liked that.
"You'll forgive me if I spell out the next few thoughts," he continued. "The passage through which I came- one-way, closed. Dispel the loop- too much effort, not enough reward. Blow through the wall- another horizontal loop.
"There are exactly two ways to escape a loop such as this one. Take your pick and grab an explosive- up or down?"
Lloyd needed a hat.
That is, Lloyd Conrad the escaped fictional character needed a hat. The other him, the one who had barged into his mind on arrival and was familiar with the setting and backstory of the current location, was quite content without one. He had more pressing things on his mind- the assortment of monsters plaguing the castle, for example, or the recent loss of the rest of his party.
He'd come to the castle for the same reasons any adventurer would, ostensibly- cleanse the region of evil, make off with the vast riches stored in the vast dungeons below, and gain all the EXP he could. (In truth, the chaotic-neutral wizard was mostly along for the fun of it. Sure, EXP and riches were good, but they were ends, and he was all about the means.)
For now, though, Lloyd simply chose to ignore that new part of him and concentrated on finding some sort of headgear. He refused to do anything else until he had something on, and Eloyd'k En-Rad would just have to shut up until then.
Whenever Lloyd was transferred into a novel that didn't center solely around humans, he'd take on the appropriate species for the story. Even if humans were the most common race, he'd sometimes take on a species that would put him just far enough from the norm to not be unusual.
He never really enjoyed that.
Eloyd'k En-Rad the elven wizard waited patiently while Lloyd rooted around the deserted servants' quarters for something to cover up his new, rather prominent ears.
-
The long, gloomy corridor got boring fast. It seemed to go on indefinitely, dull, impenetrable gloom in either direction. The worn, faded tapestries and paintings that hung from the wall all seemed the same- a portrait of some sort of regal person in some sort of regal pose, a scene in which two groups of soldiers stood holding weapons, a tranquil scene with a pond, some trees, and maybe a few clouds. Each was unique, but unique in the exact same way. They seemed to blend together after next to no time, and it had only been five or so minutes before he found himself relieved to hear something rustle and scrape behind him.
The boredom didn't dull his reflexes, of course, and he'd barely registered the welcoming sigh he'd made before he found that his weapon was pointed squarely at the elf that was hanging halfway from behind a tapestry.
Marcus snorted.
"Not. One. Word." Had it not been for the magic Lloyd found himself in possession of in this particular world, Marcus would have figuratively felt blistering waves of anger radiating from him. As it was, it wasn't figurative. He took a step back and offered a gesture of half-hearted placation. Lloyd just glared scathingly at him for a moment longer, then shot a look down the corridor in either direction and withdrew back into the tapestry.
Almost immediately, he leaned back out again, frowning- this time, not because he was annoyed, but because he was perplexed.
He stepped all the way through and stared intently at the gloomy darkness that concealed the corridor in the direction Marcus had been going. A few seconds later, he switched, staring at the way he'd come. Taking a few steps down the corridor, he did so again.
Marcus looked on with bemusement. Something about the bookworm's demeanour suggested that comments wouldn't exactly be met with enthusiasm, and Marcus was quite satisfied to just look on, barely suppressing his amused grin.
Lloyd's appearance hadn't really changed between the first and second rounds. He'd been the same general size and proportions, his shirt remaining Hawaiian and his hair wiry and black. There'd been much less variation then than there was now- he'd added nearly a foot or so to his already-on-the-high-end height, and it had seemingly all come from his limbs. There hadn't been much mass added, either- he seemed to have been stretched, his once-reasonably-acceptable form made willowy and even more gaunt than before.
The ears, though, were what really got Marcus. They were ridiculous, points rising to just an inch or so shy of the top of his head, standing a bit out like two wide, flat antennas, a bat's ears stretched and plastered to the side of his head.
His outfit, too, had changed with the setting. What had previously been a shirt and slacks were now long, flowing robes, all decorated with an entirely out-of-place pseudo-floral pattern. It looked more like the type of thing a kindly aunt would wear than what belonged on a dignified spellcaster of his caliber. Its material was a bit heavier than his old shirt, and had Marcus noted it past "not armoured" on the few occasions it had flapped open a bit to reveal boring, brown clothes, he would've seen a soft, terrycloth-esque material lining the inside of the robe in a shade rather reminiscent of the towel he'd grabbed while aboard the train.
Abruptly, after a fair bit of stalking and staring, Lloyd turned sharply to Marcus. "It's a trap," he said, his voice coming out much quieter than he intended. He coughed, cleared his throat, and tried again. "It's a trap," he said, taking as much effort as a shout to just speak at a normal level.
Marcus forgot for a moment about his apparent ally's amusing appearance at those words. His grip tightened on his gun once more, and he started a standard moderate-threat glancing pattern back and forth around the hallway.
Lloyd rolled his eyes. "Not that sort of trap," he hissed, leaning closer to the mercenary rather than raising his voice. "I can see it, it's got a sort of... residue, I suppose, is the closest term."
"Closest, what?"
"English and Elvish don't exactly translate directly all the time, not being descended from a common linguistic ancestor." Eloyd'k had done a fair bit of reading on the subject of linguistics at one point, and for each of the dozen languages he knew, he could rattle off their history back to the point where "ug" became a verb. "There was magic cast here before, and some part of it remains. It's still doing things, still active, but it's no longer drawing energy from its caster."
Marcus shot the wizard a look. "ImpCom, man, ImpCom." The phrase didn't exactly communicate what he'd intended it to, though, and Lloyd just continued on.
"You've probably been walking here for a bit, yes? Boring, consistent hallway, just enough changing to disguise the loop."
"Loop?!"
"Yes." Lloyd leaned in a bit closer, but he found it hard to both gesture with his hands and be close enough to be heard well at the same time, so be just backed up a step or two and shouted in order to get his voice to something normal. (Marcus found the disparity between Lloyd's apparent effort and actual volume a bit disconcerting, but it just blended with the rest of his companion's appearance and made him stifle another smirk.)
"I was in a room, searching for something, and I heard footsteps coming from a wardrobe. I opened it, saw that the back was simply an illusion, and went back to searching. Secret passage, nothing new in this place." He took a breath and kept going- it was way too much effort for him to talk at a normal tone. "When I heard a very similar set of footsteps coming by, I took note but didn't investigate. When they came by again, I stuck my head out and looked around. I saw you, noticed that there was magic in either direction, and came back here. You haven't gone much of anywhere."
"So wait, if-"
Lloyd leaned back in close, tired of raising his voice. "No, going back won't work. These loops generally go in both directions, designed to trap you here before you know it and starve you to death." Lloyd had to admit, Eloyd'k certainly had a low threshold for putting up with annoyances. He liked that.
"You'll forgive me if I spell out the next few thoughts," he continued. "The passage through which I came- one-way, closed. Dispel the loop- too much effort, not enough reward. Blow through the wall- another horizontal loop.
"There are exactly two ways to escape a loop such as this one. Take your pick and grab an explosive- up or down?"