GLoG 91

[Earl of Purple]

Infirmary

"My name's Baccata. I'm a yew dryad. If you don't need the bodies you've set wandering around any more, can I have the skulls? I collect them." Her collection's quite small at the moment, consisting of two skulls she collected from people who mistook her for vulnerable. "Will you need help with this newly bodied spirit? I can help with knowledge, but I can't stray from my yew for too long. If I do, he gets angry and tries to pull down the fence and kill people. And I like these people." She could feasibly bring him along, but he's a little slow. And big.

[Zefir]

Infirmary

"I'm Andreas Emerald." the doctor says with a slight bow. "I'm one of the doctors here and I share her concerns." he says and points at Reelshka.

[Peppered]

Infirmary

"I'm Annie. And I suppose they don't really need their skulls anymore. Skulls are always useful things to have."

"The body I gave to it was a work in progress. It wanted a chimera; a mash up of the most powerful features it could think of. There wasn't much I could do about that though. The things it wanted - like dragon's blood or a siren's voicebox - where would I ever have found those without dying? I gave it what I could. It's in a shapeshifter's body, and I modified its skeleton and organs as best I could, giving it true sight and enhancing its strength and durability, but at this stage it's still fairly weak. It can grow though. It feels no pain and its body is meant to be modified and added to. As it travels and picks up its wanted reagants on its own, it will add to itself. That was the plan it told me anyways. Told me it just wanted to make sure it never died again."

She looks between the three of them for a moment with huge scared eyes. "You aren't going to try and stop it, are you? If something happens to you, or if your yew, Baccata, starts to rage, then it would all be my fault."

[Morty]

[Infirmary]

Reelshka's ears twitch.

"This monster does sound too dangerous for us to deal with. We'll probably have to inform other groups, who are better equipped to handle such creatures."

[Earl of Purple]

Infirmary

"If it's a shapeshifter, how will we know what to look for? Where is it? And I could take my yew along. He would like the walk, especially if he gets to kill somebody at the end of it. But he's really slow. And he won't fit into many buildings. Unless... Hmm. There might be a way to speed him up, but it'll be tricky. And I'll need some blood, about a pint, or a faerie's wings. Blood's easier, as the wings don't grow back. And a mandrake root, one of my skulls and some garlic, but they won't be much trouble. Maybe a few other things, as well. I'll have to ask one of the crows, see what they say." Baccata's thinking, trying to dredge up the recipe from her memory.

Entrance- Wagons

"We could do with some assistance, yes. Y'see, there's this farm, tween my village of Nine-Oaks, and his village of Deepwells. The last owner was Deepwellian, but his wife was a Niner, and they died in a raid by bandits. We cleared out the bandits; they ain't the problem. Problem is, the farm. It's a good farm, fertile. Prime place to live, but the last owners had no children. So it's either our farm, and we get to pick who lives there, or it's their farm, and they get to pick who lives there. We been squabbling over it for five years, now." The elf's voice is deep, rich, and smooth, though his diction suggests a rural upbringing.
"But three months ago, things got a little... Desperate. A rainbow ended right on the farm house. Went down the chimney, in fact, and left a pot of gold. But it was a black rainbow, shades from real dark blue all the way through black to dark red. The gold's cursed, we won't touch it. And ever since it arrived, we've both been suffering immense misfortune. A manticore raided our cattle, and ate our best cowboy. Nine-Oaks' deepest well ran dry, and the rest produce naught but blood. The trader that comes with vital supplies for both our villages had a sinkhole open up under him, emitting a waft of sulphur. We think he went straight to hell. We can't live like this, neither of us. So we want you to help. Who rightfully owns that cursed farm- Nine-Oaks, or Deepwells? Which village has to figure out how to deal with the cursed gold, and which village prospers?" The man's voice is more cultured, and eloquent.

[Catalessi]

Hidrus listens carefully. In his hand appear a chalice full of some carbonated drink.
"looks like a complex problem, but nothing new. plenty of historical records of similar cases. well, except that this time, it is the opposite of the usual."

He pauses to take a sip

"have you investigated the accursed gold in question? i mean, someone has seen it, or it is too dangerous to approach?
because, probably, the logical solution is to split it, and let both of your villages deal with each part. but, maybe, doing so might make the curse twice as powerful? who knows."
He drink again from the chalice, with a serious expression

[Earl of Purple]

Wagon

"We have gone in, seen the gold. Took the lid off the pot, and looked inside. It's full of gold coins, but when Not-As-Old Bill tried to take some out, his arm was paralysed from the shoulder down, and he dropped 'em again. Wore off after a week. Same happens to everyone who tries to take some. The gold belongs to the farm, near as we can tell, but who owns the farm? It wasn't Not-As-Old Bill. He has his own farm, run by his grandchildren now." Not-As-Old Bill is the second oldest Bill in Nine-Oaks, and third youngest.

[Zefir]

[Infirmary]

"I'm not a propper fighter either." Andy says. "I do have some items that would give me the option to fight, but there are other people in the Nexus that suit this task. I'm still a bit worried about this whole necromancy. tThis whoöe story runs a shiver down my back."

[Murkus]

[Isle Center]

The carrion lord reels backwards, his gut erupting with filthy ichor. He looses another earsplitting wail and staggers, his teeth crashing together with a sound like a smith's hammerstrike.

Lammergeir's jaw drops open, a groaning 'hrrn' noise purring from deep in the trench of his throat. He has only a moment to appraise his enemies through his grated helm before a riot of color smashes into his face!

A shrill, almost... panicked shriek rises from the bleeding King. The giant beast squat-walks three or four steps backwards on his hunched legs, pounding steps shaking the earth. Thankfully he does a good job of hiding his face as he lifts his weapons to cross them defensively before himself...

It's all a feint, after all, and they might have caught his smirk of filthy glee if he hadn't. He really was partly blinded by Cassandra's attack... but unfortunately not enough to err his accuracy. The first person to step forward this round will be first to see the King breaking his stance and lunging forward. Just before they find a huge, rusty carver-blade flying at them in a deadly arc.

[Peppered]

Infirmary

Annie jumps on Baccata's words. "Of course! Shapeshifter, right. No way to track it, so have to let it be." She fiddles with her wound and continues to not look at anyone, trying to will away the four separate tracking mechanisms in her mind. Maybe it would all be fine anyways. No one has to confront it and maybe get hurt, and it wouldn't get hurt either. Maybe it would fade away and truly not stir up trouble, like it had promised her originally. Maybe, maybe, maybe.

"I didn't mean to worry you, Andreas," she says instead. "Or hurt anyone. Necromancy was all I was ever good at, so that's all I ever did. So... well, what happens now?"

[Morty]

[Infirmary]

"That depends on a few things. Your decision being one of them," Reelshka says. "If you want to stay here, we'll gladly have you. You can rest, clear your head and think about what comes next." She glances at Andy. "How do you judge her condition?"

[Catalessi]

[Wagon]
"so, this is the problem. humm. you are saying that the gold can be taken only by its 'rightful owner', wathewer that means? seems logical. if so, maybe, there is some way to hand the property to someone? i mean, if you aren't the owner of the place, you cannot sell or give it away. but these are not the only ways by which something change owner."

[Earl of Purple]

Wagon

"The 'rightful owner' is the person who owns the farm. Currently, that's both Nine-Oaks and Deepwells, because we both have a claim to it. We need to find somebody able to live with all the bad luck emanating from the gold. Or somebody able to break curses or negate magic. In your culture, if something belonged to a man, and he married a woman, who would own the item when both man and woman were dead, if they had no heirs? The man's family, or the woman's?" He's hoping it goes to the man's family, because that would be Nine-Oaks and not Deepwells, so he'd be no longer affected by the curse.

Infirmary

"It's dead, right? A dead shapeshifter? I could track that. Death has a smell, only I don't really smell it with my nose. Pretty sure there's others who could, too. I'll keep my nose out, should it visit GLoG, I'll know. And I'll set my yew on it." Though it could probably outrun her yew, quite easily, killing it may prove trickier. Unless it has access to fire, anyway.

No Longer Inside

Natalie's leading Erin up to the entrance. Natalie is a fifteen-year-old human girl with shoulder-length black hair and bright green eyes. She's currently wearing a green skirt that reaches her knees and a green t-shirt, with her battered red rucksack slung over her back. She and Erin have just been dropped off by a battered old car.

[Catalessi]

[Wagon]
"in my culture, we don't have marriage. i don't even fully understand it. if someone dies, generally his things are taken by his moirail, or matesprit, or stealed by his enemies, or left untouched. but this doesn't matter. for what i understand, someone has to live in the place long enough to be considered the owner. deepwells or nineoaks can't be the owners, because places can't own something."

Hidrus pauses, putting away the chalice. Then, he thinks about the things he said when he came here. About helping people and things like that.

"i could do it. after all, im already haunted by destiny, and it cant be worse than living on my planet."

[Zefir]

[Isle Center]

The nameless man leaves his little fellow on the guy with the spear. It's his best choice, since the king doesn't seem to attack him.

When the sparkling attack comes he is shocked as well. Now even he knows that there is another person, but since this person is hiding it's a miracle if it is friendly or just taking an oppotunity.
Either way he can't just stand there so he starts another summoning. He can only do a lower summoning since most of his power is linked to Carbuncle. So he will go for it slowly

Carbuncle in that time remains on the shoulder and only replies with a "Meep". Hard to tell what it wants or even if it is exhausted. It will keep the shield up in a lower level for now.

Infirmary

"Well," Andy starts. "From what I see she is in a bad state. I prescribe rest. With the medicine it might need a day for the sunstroke and sunburn to heal. The wound may take a bit longer. It would be best to keep her here for the night."

[Recaiden]

I'm sure they would be doing just fine without the magical spear. <.<

Spoiler: Previously

Show

Well, seems like a "protect the person with the bullcrap overtuned magic spear" strategy seems to be the order of the day. That shield seems to be doing work on the pure 'protection' front, so Cassandra decides to make her goal, 'disruption'. Re-emerging at a spot behind and to the left of Anchor, she summons a glob of magical energy in her hands, which she hurls at the Beast King's face. Upon arrival, the magical energy should burst into a dazzling and disorienting array of brightly colored flashes and sparks, hopefully keeping the ugly guy distracted and inconvenienced for longer.

The carrion lord reels backwards, his gut erupting with filthy ichor. He looses another earsplitting wail and staggers, his teeth crashing together with a sound like a smith's hammerstrike.

Lammergeir's jaw drops open, a groaning 'hrrn' noise purring from deep in the trench of his throat. He has only a moment to appraise his enemies through his grated helm before a riot of color smashes into his face!

A shrill, almost... panicked shriek rises from the bleeding King. The giant beast squat-walks three or four steps backwards on his hunched legs, pounding steps shaking the earth. Thankfully he does a good job of hiding his face as he lifts his weapons to cross them defensively before himself...

It's all a feint, after all, and they might have caught his smirk of filthy glee if he hadn't. He really was partly blinded by Cassandra's attack... but unfortunately not enough to err his accuracy. The first person to step forward this round will be first to see the King breaking his stance and lunging forward. Just before they find a huge, rusty carver-blade flying at them in a deadly arc.

The nameless man leaves his little fellow on the guy with the spear. It's his best choice, since the king doesn't seem to attack him.

When the sparkling attack comes he is shocked as well. Now even he knows that there is another person, but since this person is hiding it's a miracle if it is friendly or just taking an oppotunity.
Either way he can't just stand there so he starts another summoning. He can only do a lower summoning since most of his power is linked to Carbuncle. So he will go for it slowly

Carbuncle in that time remains on the shoulder and only replies with a "Meep". Hard to tell what it wants or even if it is exhausted. It will keep the shield up in a lower level for now.

"Get back here, monster!"
Anchor races forward in pursuit. Of course, three or four steps by the buzzard king is a lot more steps by her. How nice of him to lunge forward again to help close the distance. Less kind to accompany it with a swing of that monstrous cleaver. She thrusts the butt of the spear into the ground and jumps, using the thing like a(n uncomfortably stiff) vaulting pole to sail up over the path of his weapon. If Carbuncle doesn't hold on well, he'll probably find himself falling from her shoulder, the poor little summon.

She twists, lands, springs up! Once again in striking distance, she thrusts Beastbreaker up and out, whispering an apology to the weapon for having used it in such a way. They need to keep up the attacks, not give him even as much chance to recover as he had there. Her eyes wander over the monster, trusting the god's spear to strike true. If she can get closer - there must be gaps in that crumbling armor.

[Ashen Lilies]

[Isle Center]

Welp, good thing Cassandra didn't step forward. Let's just go ahead and let Anchor handle that.

Instead, Cassandra cuts to the side once again, dodging behind some trees and looping around the beast king. As she does so, she waves a hand, creating a web of softly luminescent golden threads in her wake, which she begins to weave around the trees in and around the colossal beast's trail, hoping that with the ample distractions being provided, he won't notice the net being created for him until he's ensnared in it.

The golden threads are rather frail - certainly not strong enough to hold him should he struggle through, but even when broken they'll try and stick to them and slow him down, swamping him in a persistent clingy mesh of glittery golden twine.

[Peppered]

[Infirmary]

"That depends on a few things. Your decision being one of them," Reelshka says. "If you want to stay here, we'll gladly have you. You can rest, clear your head and think about what comes next." She glances at Andy. "How do you judge her condition?"

"I'm welcome here? Oh. Then, yes, I would like to stay for a little while, until I figure out what to do next." Annie was not used to being welcome anywhere. Usually she was met with 'absolutely no dark magic users here,' or, if she had some of her resurrected friends with her, 'help, help, get it away, somebody help me'. She had never understood such reactions, but they had usually ended up with her being driven away from settled areas. "I think I need some time, or some sleep like Andreas said, or even just some guidance. Or perhaps all three. Ultimately, I need to decide whether to leave this thing alone, or if I need to go after it. I don't think I know what's right any more. It's nice to know you have a way to track it though, Baccata."

[Morty]

((I'm really sorry. I forgot it was my turn here.))

[Infirmary]

"We don't turn anyone away, Annie," Reelshka assures her. "Let's put you up somewhere so you can rest. We'll think about giving you some guidance once you've had a good night's sleep."

[Zefir]

[Infirmary]

Andy just nods and heads away. A few moments later he comes back with a wheelchair.
"I think that sould be better for now."

[Earl of Purple]

Infirmary

"If you ever want to just hang out and chat, compare notes, whatever, my yew's in the centre of the camp, by the lake. It's fenced off, for safety." Yews are toxic plants, after all. And this one is also a little hostile. "I think he'll like you."

Wagon

"If places can't own places, what is responsible for the infrastructure of your world? The roads, trains, public transport, sewerage, all those things? Who is responsible for the village square?" Lots of village squares and common ground here in the UK, and they're maintained by local councils, and belong to the community as a whole.
"You... Want the cursed gold? Are you sure? We're up for giving you the farm if they are, and letting you live there. But it might be dangerous." He sounds astonished that somebody is going to volunteer for ownership.

[Catalessi]

"heh, my world was maintained by robots and drones. and a place was either his inhabitant's property, or the empress's. now, it all belong to ash and dust, i guess.
i have nothing better to do at the moment. and it's not like i will be chained to the place, right? if things get too hot to handle, i can always leave."
He doesn't seems impressed by the task. Maybe he don't understand the risk, or perhaps he is really used to dangerous places. It is hard to say, with his flat attitude and tone of voice.

[Earl of Purple]

Wagon

"If you leave, you still own the farm. And the gold. That... That won't stop the curse. That's why we're both being effected- nobody lives in the farm, so it's community property, claimed by both our communities." The elf is a little concerned, but they're quite desperate to resolve the issue. And if that means giving the curse to somebody from a high-tech world who doesn't seem to understand things, he'll feel guilty, but he could live with it. The other one is even less concerned about the troll's fate, simply glad that the curse would no longer affect him or his family.

[Peppered]

[Infirmary]

"I'd like that, Baccata. I think you can expect to see me there soon," Annie says. She's kind of glad she's leaving though before the Baccata takes the skulls of her undead. All that hard work...

"I'm not sure a wheelchair is necessary, but... thank you." She moves to it and smiles nervously at Andy. "Andreas, I don't suppose there is any way I could be of help to you here, later? My magic is only necromancy, really. But that spirit taught me all about anatomy. I've been stitching together bodies ever since I met it. That is, if you'd even accept my help." Annie's gathered that Reelshka's in charge, so that last bit is directed at her.

[Catalessi]

Wagon

"If you leave, you still own the farm. And the gold. That... That won't stop the curse. That's why we're both being effected- nobody lives in the farm, so it's community property, claimed by both our communities."

"oh yes, i understand now. well, at least, the bad luck of only one person can't be bad of the bad luck of you all, right? i mean, i don't think curses get diluited when inflicted on more people. i'm still willing to do it. as a more evoluted creature that decided to help the needy, i can't ignore your situation. how do you formalize this kind of transations?"

[Morty]

[Infirmary]

"Any help you can give is appreciated," Reelshka says. It's something of an unwritten rule that people who reside in the camp for help lend their hand where they can. "It's up to Andy if you can work in the infirmary."

[Zefir]

[Infirmary]

Andy looks at her with a seriouse face.
"I'm not much into magic and from what I know of Necromany I don't want it anywhere near me." He starts.
"If you can promise me, that you won't use any necromany here or bring any reanimated bodies, I won't object."

[Earl of Purple]

Wagon

"It's a potent curse, affecting two villages with pretty severe bad luck. It hasn't killed anyone, not directly, but it could be more... Focused, perhaps."
"We give you a deed for the house, that's a piece of paper saying the holder of this paper owns the property in question." They weren't expecting to palm the curse off- they were expecting somebody who would either remove the curse or decide which village owns the farm, which means they don't have the deed with them... Though as both villages tried to dispel the curse by forsaking all claim on the farm, they've actually burnt the original deed. But they can quickly write up a new one. "D'ye have a piece of paper and a pencil?"

Infirmary

"Nothing wrong with a little bit of necromancy. It's just healing magic from the other side. Or the bit I know is, but I can't make a corpse stand up and walk around. I can cross spirits over, though. Either way. But if I help something die, I can't help it live; I can help something die if I helped it live. But not live again." Baccata isn't actually a necromancer, though. She's a nature spirit associated with life and death, who knows magic that reflects that aspect of nature.

[Catalessi]

Wagon

"It's a potent curse, affecting two villages with pretty severe bad luck. It hasn't killed anyone, not directly, but it could be more... Focused, perhaps."
"We give you a deed for the house, that's a piece of paper saying the holder of this paper owns the property in question." They weren't expecting to palm the curse off- they were expecting somebody who would either remove the curse or decide which village owns the farm, which means they don't have the deed with them... Though as both villages tried to dispel the curse by forsaking all claim on the farm, they've actually burnt the original deed. But they can quickly write up a new one. "D'ye have a piece of paper and a pencil?"

[Wagon]

"yes, wait..."

In his hand appear and disappear in rapid succession several chalices of different shapes, a laptop, a spiked mace, a flashlight and at last a big notebook and a pen. Hidrus open it and rip out a blank page.

"here it is. humm, someone of you should write it. we speak the same language, but everyone write in a different way than me. im still learning."

[Hawkflight]

No Longer Inside

Natalie's leading Erin up to the entrance. Natalie is a fifteen-year-old human girl with shoulder-length black hair and bright green eyes. She's currently wearing a green skirt that reaches her knees and a green t-shirt, with her battered red rucksack slung over her back. She and Erin have just been dropped off by a battered old car.

((Sorry, didn't see this post earlier.))

Erin followed Nat up towards the entrance. The 7-year-old anthropomorphic golden lab girl, her paw held by Nat's hand, looked around the campsite curiously. Was that a stable? Did they have ponies here? She preferred the colorful, sapient kind, though regular ponies were nice too. She wondered if it was awkward for the sapient ponies to meet the non-sapient ones.