Haiii :heart: :heart: . Faze being a smart dumb uwu
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Armour: Brimflame
Weapon: Winter's Fury(Unusable), Stormfront Razor
Acc(10/11): Celestial cuffs, Mana Flower, Sorcerer Emblem, Celestial Emblem, Ankh Shield, Deific Amulet, FrostSpark Boots, Grand Gelatin, Amalgamated Brain, Evasion Scarf. (Unlimited Buffs)
Health: (500/500)
I'm unsure how long we trudged through those deep, dark tunnels.
Hours perhaps? days? I don't know. I've lost track of time.
The underground is a mysterious sea of soil and stone, strange plants and strange life. I can hardly see for the dim light, but already I've encountered things I never would have imagined. Strange fungal pylops that spring forth in the dark, their colours lurid, vibrant and somehow threatening. Roots stretch downwards from overhead, the undersides of trees in which insects of all sorts scuttle about. Beetles of all shapes and sizes. Some with horns, some with iridescent wings. Ants - millions of individuals which work together as a single entity. A thousand bodies, a single mind.
It's difficult for me to pretend I'm not interested in these things, but alas, I must try my best. Nobody will believe my story of being... twenty something years old, if I take every opportunity to ogle at the sparkles of flint in the stone. There have been several instances where The Bandit caught me staring intensely at some interesting creature on the ceiling, but to my pleasant surprise, instead of ridiculing me, she opted to educate me. With her help, I've identified two types of edible snail and one which was poisonous (in my opinion, all three tasted the same). I was shown an earthworm (I screamed and stamped it into nothing), and also stumbled upon a rabbit made entirely of sparkling sapphires. It was lovely to look at, so I gifted the creature to The Steampunker. She has been batting her eyelashes at me for the past half hour, and I cannot begin to imagine what it means. I wish I had studied human interactions before coming here, but alas - I will just make do with my intuition and assume it's something bad. I will avoid her until she stops.
(We're just about here - ah, right here. Once we cross this threshold we'll have entered The Underground Jungle. Anyone who is stung by a giant hornet is to come to me immediately. The venom is no joke. Keep your voices down. Let's go.)
A voice calls from the darkness up ahead. I recognize The Tavernkeep's distinctive slur as he relays commands from the head of our group. His voice echoes off the dull walls of the tunnel, and I can hardly understand it over the pounding of footsteps and the increasingly loud sound of flowing water. The ground beneath my bare feet has grown damp and muddy (for fear of ruining my shoes, I had opted to go barefoot). I can feel the cool clay beneath my toes and the trickles of water against my heels. The air too is damp and earthy smelling. It doesn't smell pleasant by any stretch of the word, but neither is it repungent. It's the smell of dirt and life - and its a far cry from that sterile icy environment I've grown used to.
(Alright, look alive. Weapons out. The Jungle has no shortage of things that will kill you. Remember that we're here for several things. Life Fruits, Queen Bee Honey, Blue Sky Flowers!)
And, almost suddenly, the scenery changes.
Its dark still, but the air begins to sing a different tune.
The earth and the stone became mud and greenery. I can feel moss and lichen squelch beneath my feet. Vines begin to frame the tunnel walls, crawling, living vines made of tough fibres which sprout leaves and sometimes flowers. The temperature in The Underground was cool and clammy, but the moment we crossed the threshold into The Underground Jungle, the mud begins to steam.
Birds? no... underground?
I nearly gasp. If I hadn't heard the noise of twittering I never would have believed it. The chattering of insects, the chirping of birds. I hear the low, odd croaks of frogs and amphibians. I see vines twisting and stretching over and beneath us. Roots in knotted whorls plunge through the soil. Our path opens up to a cavernous space, and I'm quite dumbstruck with the utter beauty of the scene that lays before me. Great shafts of light stream from the surface above. A great pillar of gold that strikes the lush ground beneath. Trees are growing from the cavern floor. Trees in which brilliantly coloured birds perch and nest. They are like living jewels, and I cannot help but stand still in wonder as my eyes drink everything in.
Like a dream!
It's quite the sensory overload. It's not as if I've only seen the Northern Mountainous landscape... I have journeyed to The Desert and The Plains a few times to do battle at Braelor's request, but those incidents were so brief, I never had a chance to do any sightseeing. Now that's I'm a free man, I've decided to sightsee to my heart's content. Three people have since bumped into me as they passed me on the narrow winding path, but only The Steampunker, who is still batting her eyes at me, backtracked and took me by the hand. She leads me behind everyone else as I continue to stare at everything except what's in front of me. She must have noticed my interest in my surroundings and provides some narration to what I'm seeing. I'm grateful for her commentary, must moreso that someone watches where I am going.
This is what I've been missing out on?! Ah! There are so many plants! So much green!
My bare feet squelch in the mud as I follow along. It's messy and dirty but the sensation is interesting and tactile. Small plants spring from the mud, stretching their tender shoots towards the sunlight. Their leaves are soft as they brush against my ankles. There is an underground reservoir bubbling to my left. It spills a babbling stream over a steep incline - a trickling waterfall, through which glowing white blooms and bright jungle spores burst forth. Their luminescence dyes the water with all sorts of shifting patterns... it's like magic. I'd be happy staring at it for hours. I turn to The Steampunker and excitedly point them out.
"They emit light! I don't sense any spells, but natural bioluminescence! I've never imagined such things! Look! Do you see?!"
The Steampunker's face is glowing almost as brightly as the flowers. She squeezes my arm and grins as she enthusiastically agrees with me.
"Absolutely! They're gorgeous! The white flower that droops is called Moonglow! I had one on my windowsill when I was young."
"Plants on a windowsill? Is that possible?"
"In... a pot, yes?"
"A simple pot!? Without a homeostasis enchantment?"
"...no?"
"Incredible!"
The Steampunker gives me an odd look, but the grin never faded from her face. After a moment she squeezes my hand and agrees once more, this time, with even more enthusiasm.
"Yes, amazing! Definitely!"
We continue to walk, slowly making our way across the cavern and feasting our eyes upon the riches of this world. Something swells in my head and makes me giddy. I'm bursting in happiness and I don't know why - but I'm not about to pause everything to indulge in somber introspection. From the moment of my birth, everything has been dark and dull. I lived in a frozen hellscape under the strict rule of Braelor and My Teacher - only allowed out to bathe in the blood of their enemies. I was a dog, a loyal hound that came when called. When I refused to be obedient, they sent me to The Crimson to die like a worthless creature. When That didn't work, they sent me to The Corruption to break me. I've been haunted by those disgusting, pulsing, hideous landscapes for so long, the trauma lives permanently behind my eyes... until now.
"Steampunker! Look! Amphibian! Sticky creatures whose long toes have adhesive discs. We used dried ones in bounding potions!"
"Aww, Froggy!"
"It also makes odd noises when I squeeze it!"
"Faze, no! You're gonna hurt it! Put it down!"
My attention is grabbed by something else and I toss the slimy creature to the moss. It hops away lopsidedly as I catch sight of a strange growth in the groove of a tree. Its dry, papery and covered in hexagonal perforations, some of these are filled with squirming white... things. Large swarming insects cover the growth. Like everything else in this wondrous jungle, they too are colourful. Each is the size of my thumb, patterned in black and yellow and sporting bright red eyes. Enraptured, I walk up to the swarm (unconsciously dragging The Steampunker behind me) and crane my neck to gaze up at it. What an interesting-
"Wha-What do you think you're doing! That's a hornet's nest! Faze!? Hey! Get Down!"
I pay her no mind as I scramble up the mahogany trunk to observe it more closely. What an amazing nest! I honestly don't even know what I'm looking at, but The Steampunker is having a fit on the cavern floor. I should quickly return to her. I will collect the specimen for later study. I reach out, snatch it off the tree branch and stash it - along with all the insects within - into my inventory, but not before being stung several times. The stings are dull through my armour, but I'm still startled by them.
"Ah-"
"Faze?!"
The Party Girl sounds panicked. I turn to respond calmly.
"I was attacked."
"Well of course you were attacked, you big dummy! You just grabbed a hornet's nest! What were you thinking!"
"yes... of course."
The Steampunker stares at me, absolutely flabbergasted as I observe the sting on my hand. It doesn't bother me too much. I've become quite tolerant to pain. A week in The Crimson has done me few favors, but at the very least - I am easily able to endure through most injuries without batting an eye. In any case, my mood is not dampened (the punctures heal almost immediately). I drop to the floor and trot back over to The Steampunker, who regards me warily - her blue eyes narrowed to slits. Evidently, she isn't very happy I grabbed The Hornet's Nest, but still takes my hand when I extend it to her. Her voice is sour, incredulous.
"You nearly squashed the guts out of a frog, and now you've made one hundred hornets homeless... are you happy now?"
"I'm very happy. Thank you."
"You... okay, fine."
The Steampunker rolls her eyes and gives me a defeated look, then - after a long moment - flushes red. She places a palm against her own forehead and whispers ("You're lucky you're cute") before fixing her eyes ahead and continuing along the path, tugging me with her. I hear what she says and ask for clarification. Her face flushes even redder.
"Are you talking about me?"
"No! Shush you... come on!"
"Hmm."
I observe her for a moment longer before craning my neck to stare at the Jungle sky high above. I see birds flying in formation up there and am filled with the desire to go see them... alas, my wings have been confiscated. What a pity.
Maybe The Archmage could have made me a pair of wings... I will ask him when I return.
Well, wings or not, I'm content either way. I'm dreadfully happy. I feel at home here. This is what I was born for. This is what I imagined I would love to do - and I certainly love it. I've been told that my 'purpose' was to serve The Resistance, but now that I'm here - my very bones resonate within me. I know was born for travel. I was born to explore. In fact, (I confess it despite fear of sounding pretentious) this world was made for me to discover its secrets. It was created to awe me, and I was created to stand in awe.
This freedom is something I desire for myself - more than anything in this world.
And I will by all means preserve it.
The Archmage chuckled darkly as his castle was wracked with a great blast. The floor began to cant steeply, his icy bookshelves sliding across his icy floor until they shattered against translucent icy windows - ejecting hundreds of books all over the library. The Chandelier swayed dangerously until it smashed all of its candles against a glassy balcony - which also shattered in an extraordinary manner. The tables cracked as the shaking snapped their delicate legs. Crystalline cups and goblets fell to the ground and vanished into powder shards. Downstairs, another explosion wracked the building as his front doors were blown off with arcane lightning.
Hmm... the Lunatic Mage. It was about time...
The old sorcerer sighed and relaxed into his ever-present icy chair. He puffed on his pipe as he calmly admired his destroyed library. He always loved the glow of the sun off ice's thousands of refractive surfaces. He normally generated his furniture with the curve of light in mind, but the true beauty was when things shattered. Right now, in the midst of destruction, The Archmage's castle was being showered in millions of loose, sparkling diamonds.
(ARCHMAGE! GET OUT HERE!)
Another crash. More shattering. The lovely sound of ice shards tinkling against the floor. Such destruction was expected in the vicinity of an insane sorcerer. Magic was chaos, and a magic practitioner must be of sound mind to control its flow. When magicians lost control, when they lost their minds, they usually died in spectacular ways the moment they touched The Arcane. If they happened to be doing enhancement magic, they ballooned into a grotesque abberation of themselves before simply bursting. If they attempted a transformation, they became drooling, mindless chimeras.
(ARCHMAAAGE! WHERE IS THE HERO!)
But sometimes a sorcerer survived that slippage in sanity. The cases were so rare, there was hardly an opportunity to study them. Some have theorized insane magicians survived simply by the strength of their will. Others have said the mind of the insane magician splintered so completely, 'The Magic' took on a personality of its own - coexisting in the mage's head like an internal voice. Still others surmise that insane magicians didn't exist at all... But The Archmage knew better.
(ARCHMAGE!)
*Boom!*
The Library door burst open, sending razor shards every which way. The Chandelier fell from it's translucent chain and collapsed to the floor with a great crash. The floor trembled and began to splinter. Great thunderclaps rang out - so powerful that they shook the windowpanes. No sane magician could produce such powerful magic at whim, only those who had surrendered their minds to chaos - those whose psyches were aligned with the nature of magic. The Brimstone Witch was one such insane sorceresses. Her mind was splintered - broken beyond repair from sorrow, trauma and Yharim's ministrations... but her power was unsurpassed. She was a monster in word and deed, and - by some wicked miracle - was not destroyed by her own fire magic when she lost her mind.
"Welcome, mad whelp."
The second insane magician had taken quite the appropriate name for himself. The Lunatic Cultist was raised a talented mage, but upon becoming obsessed with the Old Gods of The R'lyehians went insane by the revelations of cosmic entities. He too - instead of dying - survived the ordeal. He wasn't as powerful as Calamitas, but neither was he quite so broken. Still, he was a danger - and long ago The Archmage had lead the hunt to chase him down and terminate him. How unfortunate that his efforts had failed... It would have saved so many lives...
"Archmage!"
A voice hissed out, dripping in venom. There he was - the Lunatic Cultist, floating in the threshold of the doorway and dressed in a long blue robe. A porcelain mask covered his face, but The Archmage knew the man beneath was snarling. Entirely nonplussed, The Archmage chuckled to himself and puffed at his pipe, admiring the snowflakes that sprinkled forth with each breath.
"Archmage! Where is The Hero!?"
"You look well, Whelp. Not quite as mad as I remember you... are you still hearing voices? Seeing impossible things? Frankly I'm surprised you are even able to recognize me at all! After suffering from mental degeneration for so long, I've expected you to become as monstrous as The Witch of Massacre."
It was almost impossible to imagine The Cultist becoming even more angry, but he did. Everything in the room began to tremble and vibrate - including The Archmage's ever-present chair with him in it. The Cultist glowered at him through the narrow slits in his mask. He could hear the man grinding his teeth beneath his cowl.
But The Archmage was not afraid. He was an old man, and terrifically powerful in his own right. With Magic, finesse was coveted far more than raw, stupid power - and where The Cultist had power, The Archmage had finesse. Unbothered with the thunderclaps, he continued to antagonize the insane mage.
"I suppose I should congratulate you for this. A hundred years without destroying yourself! Excellent work, Whelp... and no. I certainly will not tell you where The Hero is. You've put him through enough, haven't you? Besides. I've taken a liking to the boy."
"Archmage, I. Made. Him. Tell me where he is!"
"Fatherly love? You?! My goodness!"
The Archmage chortled and shook his head. He ran his hand through his impressive beard as he observed the angry little man trembling in rage before him. To be honest, The Archmage hadn't expected The Lunatic Cultist to be in such sound condition. In fact, he seemed to be much more lucid than a hundred years ago. He was almost an animal back then. Had he recovered from his insanity? Possibly, but if so - he would have lost that ridiculous magical power. But against all odds, it appeared The Cultist was both in his right mind and possessing the power of an insane sorcerer. How curious. What did he do...?
Of course, The Lunatic Cultist wasn't about to explain anything to him. He might be mostly sane, but he was still very angry. There was no point in asking, becuase he certainly wasn't going to share any secrets with his enemy. The Cultist began to make empty threats. The Archmage brushed them off with (what he imagined to be) infuriating grace.
"Don't make me torture the answers out of you, Archmage! I -will- find The Hero. You can't hide him forever!"
"I wish you the best of luck, Cultist. Be careful not to put too much stress on that brain of yours... You already knows what happens when your poor mind snaps. Yes?"
"Tch!"
"Until next time, Whelp."
Steampunker: "Wow! That's a Terrarian in Auric-Tesla Armour!"
Faze: "Like Hell that is!"
Tavernkeep: "Brass-yellow Armour, Lightning Omniscient power... It's Auric-Tesla"
Faze: "You don't know he's A -Terrarian- in Auric-Tesla. Maybe he's a Human in Auric Tesla! Maybe you fuckers haven't been trying hard enough!"
Bandit:"Says The Terrarian who's -not- In Auric Tesla"
-McMake
LC is running around the country looking for his son, and Faze is like - lmao I squeez da froegg.
Also Steampunker is kind of a funny character. She is the ultimate simp. like - I like this dude because he's tall... and holy shit he's weird and sometimes really dumb... but I like him *stupid smile*. Wait until she realizes she can't date Faze because he's one month old and a different species. sad life. (Reverse Loli kevk)
So super fast summary of Archmage convo with LC. Insane = stronk magic. but insane also means insane. Usually you go crazy, then try to do magic and fking explode. When Hero(faze) was in Crimson, he had no opportunity to do magic... not that it matters if he explodes or not lmao. but yes. LC has stronk magic, but is not really insane and Arch is like... huh. wack.
This ties into story I promise.
Also I really can't explain Vanity armours well. I just have it be like... an illusion spell or something? Rn Faze gave up his cool vanity with the helm (that the archmage threw a the crowd to pretend he died) for some basic phesant rag armour. Slayer on the other hand has a horned helmet with winter cloak no matter what armour he has underneath. that's his 'vanity'. If you are curious as to char appearences, get discord link... from one of the previous chapters because I swear I post it a lot (or PM me for it). We have a lot of art.
Much love ty. I promise I will have the Slayer vs Guide Vs Dryad chapter out soon. I already wrote most of it and originally wanted it to be part 2 of this chapter, but decided it deserves to be the main feature in ch 103. so sit tight. love and kiss