Pius Fidelus: Outer Plane

[chrono]

Forneus

Forneus seems rather unfazed by Ark's sarcasm. I would appreciate it if you paid attention instead of scribbling nonsense. I already called this place a madhouse, it is only appropriate that I be mad. Or would you care to explain to me how this whole mess is normal in any way? What's more, speaking with myself is all I can really do if there's nobody else around. Apart from finding a way out, that is.

Slightly disappointed at the wall breaking effort Forneus shrugs.
Ah well, that didn't work. Would you care to try again? As much as I would like this to work I'm afraid your effort may be wasted.

Forneus feels a slight intrusion and stares at Plamal (for some reason he's sure that's the culprit). I'm not sure what you're trying to do but I'm curious if it worked.

[Emperor Demonking]

Plamal

Turn 1

"I was seeing how real you are and whether or not I could alter your appearence. I couldn't but you are less real than Tek's medal and your arrow." Said Plamal as he went to door 1 and tried to make it blue.

[Thelonius]

Tek

Tek moves back to his chamber, sealing his door with silvery lines and leaving one separate in a manner of a ring-bell.

He moves to the cacoon of silvery lines and places his medal on the table there. He then proceeds to examine and attempts to re-create it with the same ammount of reality.

[Emperor Demonking]

Plamal

Turn 1

Plamal looked to see whether or not he could turn the door blue. Then he turned into a lion and started running to his door and leapt through. Once inside he started to sniff inside while using his powers to see if anything is as real as the medal.

[Zweanslord]

The door of room number #1 turns blue. Plamal does not find anything that can compare to the reality of Tek's medal in his room.

Meanwhile, Tek is busy concentrating really hard to create another Medal. First, he manages to create a medal that looks just like it, but can be changed and destroyed with just a mere thought. Then, he tries to infuse reality in it, just like the first medal. As he does this, he feels as if he is imbuing power to the item, lending it power. He also feels that this will take him a while to do, but he continues. After quite some time, he finishes his work. For some moments, he feels mentally exhausted. A certain amount of power seems to have left him, imbued in the item. He feels the power very, very slowly coming back and reasons that he will not be able to create another such item for some time.

And so, a small, beautifully ornate disk with fascinating pattern on the surface is held within Tek's hand. On other side of the disk is a sharp spike. It feels and looks almost like the other medal. The item just feels somewhat fluid, as if it needs some time to harder it's realness. Tek has a sure feeling that this will happen soon. Also, upon further investigation it is uncovered that it is not changeable by mere will any more and feels quite solid, concrete and real, nearly as much so as the other medal.

[OOC: Tek has created an artefact for this turn. It will be completely real and usable the next turn. If you wish to create an artefact as well, first get approval of a GM in the ooc thread or by PM. If it is a duplicate of an existing artefact, approval is automatically given, but still, please make a clear mention of you creating that artefact during that turn. This can be done by PM or in the ooc thread. If you PM, please try to send it to several GM's to make sure you get a timely response.]

[chrono]

Forneus

Forneus repeats Plamal's words to himself a couple of times. Less real? Really? How do you mean? he asks finally, swinging the bow from his shoulders into his hand. Forneus already examined his bow once and was pretty much aware of all obvious traits, as well as the fact that he can't make it disappear at will. But the realization that this bow was more unchanging than his body was a step in a very disturbing direction.
Forneus speaks to Plamal again though his voice is low as if talking to himself.
This surely complicates things... I think this might be evidence that we created a rock that we can't lift... Metaphorically. Or maybe it's just that somebody else created it. This is surely worth investigating.

Forneus focuses on his bow, trying to see beyond the manifested shape.

[Wizzardman]

It has been listening quietly. It turns to point at Forneus.

"And what part of your mind do I represent, then?"

It pauses. "Although I must admit, my sudden and inexplicable ability to speak without vocal cords does add some support to your theory. I'm fairly sure earthworms cannot talk. ...I'm not sure why I am sure of this, but I am."

[Emperor Demonking]

Plamal

Turn 1

Plamal left the room and listened to Forneus. "Yes but did you actually create the bow in the first place, their is probably something that can change them. I think I'll see if they can be made."

Plamal then left for his room and started to create his amulat of bear's strength focusing on how real the medal and arrow were.

[harmonictempest]

Ardannis

The six-legged creature is quite calm now, and has been following the conversation with interest for some time. After watching the exchanges of the argument, he pipes up. I don't know why you all keep pestering poor Forneus so. It's clear from the lack of power we have over each other that victory in an argument here means precisely nothing. Besides that fact, each of us has a complete right to believe what he or she likes - or it, unless that earthworm has a preference as to gender it wants to believe itself to be. We're each going to act on what we believe, anyway, so there's not much point in arguing. It looks like we're all stuck with each other, so we may as well get used to it instead of creating rivalries when we're not sure how long they're going to have to last. Now then, let's focus for a minute, and in a lower tone, I can't believe I'm the one suggesting that.

Ardannis pauses for a second, focusing his razor wit on something other than humor for a moment. It's been made clear that we are all personifications of ideas - I think this idea rings true within us as soon as we hear it, whether or not we're also in someone else's head. Mine seem to be Travel and humor, or Trickery. Second, we have some power over those ideas, and not over others. Plamal can make plants grow and Krixal can make fire, but I can make only illusions of either.
If the items we possess, such as my staff, seem to be the most real things around, we should ask why that is. And lastly, I don't know about your rooms, but mine has a copy of me inside it.
There are only two conclusions that can be drawn from that. The first is that we are trapped here. That could be nothing but pure torture - for creatures of ideas like us to have powers over ideas and no scope for them. The second is that we are not trapped, which I for one would like to believe, if only because I'd kill myself if I were stuck here - no offense to you all, of course.

Thinking about being stuck here makes him agitated, until he remembers the copy of him in his room. Without waiting more than a few seconds for an answer, he darts off to his room, where he plays with different things until he loses focus. He gives his staff to his avatar and sees if it will act independently, then tries talking to it. The he tries his minor illusion spell on the avatar, on himself, and on various objects in the room, including his staff, all in quick succession.
After a while, he tires of the illusion, and tries instead to simply cover up an object with darkness, thinking of it as an illusion of a dark night.

Spoiler

Show

After testing how a lot of things interact (though swiftly and very unsystematically), he tries to create a new spell, Flicker of Shadow, that covers something in darkness.

[lilomar]

Krixal 1.7

Now I do take offense at that!

Krixal arcs up to Forneus.

I may not know what I am, but I do know that I am not a figment of your imagination! I challenge you to combat.

You may decide the manner of the contest, as physical combat seems to be out of the question, not that I wouldn't love to tear that insubstantial throat out of your body! But I will take you on in any manner of your choosing, with an ego that allows you to believe that you simply imagined all of us, there is no way that you could concieve of yourself losing to..to.. a figment of my imagination. (mocking Forneus)

As he says this, Krixal grows to about twice his size and the fire on his head spreads to his shoulders and part of the way down his arms. He seems not to notice the change.

[Emperor Demonking]

Plamal

Turn 1

Plamal continued to make his amulet doing his best to keep it real when he saw that one of his animals was too small. At first he decided that it was probably a baby and continued to focus on making his amulet but then he remembered it couldn't be a baby. He then continued making the artifact.

[Zweanslord]

If Ardannis would have tried, he would have realised that he can make fire, food and whatever object in this realm as well. The powers of an Immortal are great here. Things unrelated or especially opposed to your concepts would feel as if acting against your nature, though.
But as Ardannis uses the piece of knowledge within his mind, a miracle that he already had, able to cast it here an infinite amount of times, he feels a great deal of affinity to using that power over any other. When he creates a short and small illusion of darkness, he feels that at current, there is no affinity with it such as he had with the changing appearance power. However, since it is related with the concepts he feels belonging to him, he is sure that he can create that power to have an affinity like the other power. This will, however, cost him a lot of concentration, focus and energy.

But as he does, he feels he is making progress during the process. He is able to imbue the idea, the power, with a certain amount of power allowing him to feel great affinity to it and to use it here, in the Outer Plane, reflexively, as if the bit of knowledge is a trained skill part of him. However, as of yet, the knowledge feels somewhat fluid and not completely part of him. Ardannis feels that it is becoming more solid and will soon be a complete part of him. But, due to the energy it took, he realises that he can not make another power or idea part of himself for now. He does feel that the energy is slowly, slowly returning, so he is sure that in time, he will be able to do it again.

Unlike the success with the piece of knowledge, when Ardannis puts a staff into the hands of his Avatar and talks to it, nothing happens.

[OOC: Ardannis has researched a miracle for this turn. It will be completely part of him and and usable the next turn. If you wish to research a miracle as well, first get approval of a GM in the ooc thread or by PM. Make sure that the miracle is related to either your Major or Minor Domain. If you PM, please try to send it to several GM's to make sure you get a timely response.]

[Emperor Demonking]

Plamal

Turn 1

Plamal sighed and yawned as he put the amulet down and decided to take a break. He put his mouth in a frown as he created a pig, a lifeless pig. Plamal then tried to use his powers to make the pig move its legs and run out of Plamal's room.

Keeping his mind partly on keeping the pig moving he started to work on the artifact again.

Finding that he could not focus on both he stops working on the pig's legs after two laps around the room.

[chrono]

Forneus

Forneus is quite surprised at Ardannis defending him and stands speechless for a few moments. Well, thanks... I guess. He has little time to address this issue further as he is even more surprised by Krixal's offensive actions. With the bow still in hand Forneus approaches Krixal, his shape unchanged. Owh, get over it. It was a metaphor to stop the unfounded theories and it worked quite well. But if you wish to do it your way, we have to resort to a battle of wit as we've already established that even the permanent weapons can be of little use. Forneus looks at the large flaming shape and smiles. Obviously. And since you missed the subtle clues that my witty theory was not in fact entirely serious, you seem to have lost the battle of wit already, no? But me winning or losing does not make us any wiser so why don't you find a better way to use your time?

Forneus glances back to his room.

Speaking of which I've had an idea for a while which I simply can not attend to while I'm here talking.

Forneus swings around and walks back to his room, the entrance of which catches fire and bursts in flame creating a barrier of fire. Suddenly the barrier disappears again and Forneus shows up again. If you insist on having this argument then figure out a meaningful challenge and I will attend to you once I am back.

With this Forneus goes back in his room and the wall of fire reappears.

[Emperor Demonking]

Plamal

Turn 1

The pig turns still and Plamal starts working on his artifact again, not having the concentration to think of anything else while making it.

[El_Frenchie]

Ark

Without any further discussion, Ark goes back into his room, going through the red silk curtains. He then moves towards the middle of his room covered with pillows, towards the scrying pool and his inanimate avatar, standing in a corner.

He closes his eyes, concentrating. He had found life, and with life, he knew he could incite life to reproduce itself as well as shorten the amount of time it took.

Taking those powers into consideration, he moves his hands in a circle, creating a seal, his hands move to form another shape, fists clashing against one another. He breathes and attempts to break down what he knows to get to the origin of his power.

As he thinks, he thinks of a couple, of its offspring. And something calls to him as he thinks about it, concentrating on where the couple goes to raise the children. That's right, like his room, it was a place of comfort and rest, somewhere secure. He concentrated on those feelings and associated each of them with a symbol, a seal made with his hands.

As he researches the different seals, he tries to make a concentrate of those emotions that relate to a nesting ground. Emphasizing them.

[lilomar]

Krixal

At first confused by Forneus's refusal to compete, Krixal shrinks back down to his usual stature, the flames recede to their usual position on his head.

After a few moments of thought, He walks over to Tek's door and pulls on the bell-pull. (and wonders how he knows what a bell-pull is, and what to do with it)

[Thelonius]

Tek

After a minute’s wait, the silvery cables go away and door opens. Tek marches out and seeing Krixal asks: “What can I do for you?”

[lilomar]

Krixal

I have a favor to ask. I need, well, a symbol. A simple image that can represent me and identify me out of all of us. From what I've observed, (indicating Tek's medallion) You seem to have a natural talent for it. I would, of course, repay you with a service of my own if you should ever have need of it.

[Thelonius]

Tek

Tek considers the request and replies: “Why not trade some favors. Just tell what you wish this symbol to be, and I would craft it. You'll have to wait some time though. Creation of such items seems to take a slight tall on my power.”

[lilomar]

Krixal

Oh, you don't have to make a perma-item, I suspect that it would remain attuned to yourself in any case. All I am requesting is for you to design the image, so that I may use it to identify myself.

If you will do this for me, I shall remain in your debt until you have need of a return favor.

[Emperor Demonking]

(How long does it take to make an artifact?)

Plamal

Turn 1

Plamal stops making the artifact for the second time and places it down. Plamal turns himself into a hawk and flies into room 1 for a moment before flying out and going to room 13 for a moment and then flying back to work on the artifact.

[Thelonius]

Tek

Tek nods in understanding. "Then I shall start right now". He moves back to his room, sliding down to his workshop.

There, using his meager skill of Symbols, Tek begins designing a symbol of Fire, which conveys strength and benevolence. He takes his time with this task, preparing several variants to demonstrate to Krixal.

During his work he also scribbles several ideas for a symbol of his own.

After work is done, Tek returns to Krixal, to show him results of his efforts.

[Altairius]

Ikeklos

As the Others retreated to their rooms, Ikeklos felt a little less... Crowded. All this excitement and argument and... Activity repulsed it. Meaningless words, intended only to fill and erase the soothing silence. They had little Purpose, and would achieve nothing.
Ikeklos already had determined what was Truth. But as was proven, sharing Truth to the Others, and more specifically, the Wastrels was a fruitless endeavor. They would merely argue and babble and expend precious energy fighting over nothing. If this room contained nothing but stone and a Wastrel, it would conjure up a reason the stone offended it.
With a nasty cracking sound, the Throne Ikeklos was a part of... Uprooted itself from the ground. Supported by spindly, asymmetric legs of ice, it skittered around the circumference of the table, ponderously, leaving a trail of evaporating permafrost, until it came to the point on the table closest to Ikeklos' door. There, it dug itself back in, spreading permafrost around it, but never spreading beyond 1/16th of the circumference of the table.
With great effort, cracking and popping, Ikeklos wordlessly extracted itself from the Throne, and walked slowly towards its room. It passed through the door, which iced over into a thick film that sealed the door.

Ikeklos was much comforted by his own room. It stared at the walls, barren except for two. With a will, the pedestal holding the ice-spider crawled over to take a place at the right side of the throne in the Central gazebo. Ikeklos considered the words written on the other.
Words. They bore truth. And thus far, it thought as it experimented with the abilities written there, they were a bastion of reality in this place where little was real. Perhaps, by putting things to words, some reality could be forced upon them.
It wrote in flowing, crystalline letters, on the top of the wall, next to the spells, the word "Wastrels". It repeated the process for the next two walls, writing at the top of them "Unknowns" and "Truth-Holders".
Under these headings, it placed several names. The Impatient One. Shade-Bringer. Juice-Drinker. Fire-Starter. Wall-Breaker. Rune-Writer. Earth-Eater. Ale-Drinker. Water-Weaver. Book-Writer. Other, more indistinct words filled the columns, bearing no meaning, more of a reminder than anything else.
However, under Truth-Holders, only one name was written: Ikeklos.
This activity felt... right. That in defining these things, these Others, Ikeklos had bound them to reality. No figments. No imaginings. They were real and unmoving. It turned again to the column of Miracles. Each was important in its way, it felt. But a new one was needed. The ability to set down reality, to show truth, was important as well.

With great difficulty, Ikeklos set about making IceScript true.

[lilomar]

Krixal

Krixal looks at the various symbols Tek has produced.

No, no, um, maybe,..Perfect! Oh this one will do nicely, thank you. When you need a return favor, don't be shy about asking!

Krixal happily puts his new symbol above his door next to his image.

Well, if you need me, I'll be, well, the only place I really could be except for out here.

With that, Krixal enters his room, throwing up a sheet of solid flame as a door. Then, after a moment's consideration, comes back out and installs a bell-pull, similar to tek's. Then, with a big grin, he reenters his private quarters.

[Jerian_Rumple]

Words reappear on the table.

Ah, finally. A few moments respite from the hustle and bustle. Now, to patch that up...

Thre crack from the sword seems to mend like a living being would a scrape.

That stung. How rude of them to interrupt me as I was thinking. Now then, where was I? Ah yes. Where was IT? Farther...farther...Eureka! Quite pretty, really...

The center circle of the table begins to emit a soft, almost unnoticable glow, and lines begin to draw themselves in odd shapes and squiggles, until they begin to connect and form boundaries. Then colors are added to these boundaries, making a very convincing topographic map.

Ahhh. And that's how it's done, then. Still, it seems a little unruly...

More lines appear in rigid geometric shapes, overlaying the map in a hex grid.

There. Nice, orderly, easy to read. I must say I am rather pleased with myself.

[Dr Bwaa]

Tumine Barok

What is it? says Tumine. I mean, I can tell that it is a map, but of what? It doesn't look like this place; where are we on it? She peers over, intrigued.

[lilomar]

Krixal

Inside, Krixal lets down his heat-aura in relief.

Finally, I can be warm without thinking about keeping it that way. Now what to do about you?

He looks at the small version of himself standing next to a brazier. He considers it for a moment and then decides on a course of action.

Well, there is no need for you to be hanging around naked like that, the others seem to be able to make permanent objects, I might as well give it a try.

Krixal looked at his own pouches, then added his new symbol to each of them. Smiling, he made duplicates for his avatar. Then, focusing, he concentrated on the feel of the other's items, pushing himself into the pouches and making them 'real'.

[Tichrondrius]

Gandoran

Gandoran heaved his sword back with grunt and examined it for damages before returning it to its place. He spent the next several moments examining the wall, trying to pry at it, eventually just settling at looking in. When this proved to be fruitless he again disturbed at how the wall seemed to heal.

Which was when he noticed nearly everyone was gone. This made him feel lonely, and he didn't like the deep hollow feeling of no one being around. He was a little crazy and needed people to see his actions, or what good was it to exist? He quickly went back to his room, where he had been during his nap.

The servants he had noticed here earlier quickly came over to attend to him. He sat down at his throne and requested a table, which he knew about, and they brought one quickly. He smiled, and liked these beings that served his every whim. At the table he began work on something out there that had called to him. Something that seemed to rightfully be his.. but he would make his better. To cover more, to protect more. He picked up some material and wielded some other material and formed and melded with his mind and whims to fit him, glancing every once and a while at his pool. Whenever he was done with his new armor he studied the map that had appeared in more detail.

[Thelonius]

Tek

Tek sits on his chair at the circle. He wiggles his main body's legs impatiently and examines the formed map with great interest.

"Your organization is indeed flawless Ripik" - flatters Tek his unseen host.