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Post by Admin on Sept 16, 2019 9:16:17 GMT
Looking at the card Bella finds that the image has changed; instead of the close look at the cowled and robed Pilgrim from before the image now shows the Pilgrim from a more distant view as he (and Bella can sense that the painted subject is a man) walks a little path up the side of a black cliff. The Pilgrim holds a lantern in on hand and a walking stick in the other. Water laps against the base of the cliff and a crab and lobster crawl about. In the distance beyond the cliff is a tall tower wreathed in flame.
[OOC: I didn't continue with the connection in case the change in the image has changed Bella's plans.]
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Post by Deleted on Sept 21, 2019 0:29:36 GMT
Bella marked the change in the Trump, studying it for a moment, only because she'd never heard of a Trump that changed. It wasn't as though her study of the Trumps was all that complete to begin with, after all. She briefly wondered if it were an affect of the shadow she was in? Or was this some exotic power of Trump from this side of things. Regardless, it didn't matter to her what the Trump looked like, so long as it worked.
She focused on the trump of the Pilgrim, seeking contact with him.
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Post by Admin on Sept 22, 2019 11:06:14 GMT
Bella immediately feels the cold rush of connection through the card. The picture of the Pilgrim grows larger covering over the other images painted on the card and begins to lose the stylized painting design and to appear more life-like. The Pilgrim shudders then moves to face out of the card. He holds his lantern up to get a better view of Bella then jabs his walking stick through the connection spiking Bella in the forehead.
"No one home." he says.
The connection through the card is broken.
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Post by Deleted on Sept 23, 2019 0:17:48 GMT
Bella frowns, touching her forehead. Interesting, the individual was able to somehow create a physical connection through the card so easily, something she thought impossible without invitation or, at least, only possible after an extended mental struggle between two people, usually those who were already known to one another. Still, he touched her, so she could touch him, and she had nothing but time, so she gathered her ravens to her, wearing one as a mask, then, taking a deep breath, she straightened, and tried the Trump again.
She'd make the Pilgrim work to keep her out, and she'd spend as much time on this as it took, hours if necessary. If she did make contact, she'd immediately try to move through the Trump to him. Should he try to touch her again, she'd ordered the raven mask to grab his cane so she could pull through.
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Post by Admin on Sept 24, 2019 14:59:39 GMT
The card is now inert. It retains the cold feeling common to the tarots but it doesn't seem to be able to connect with the Pilgrim.
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Post by Deleted on Sept 26, 2019 4:09:31 GMT
Bella gave up after an hour. It had not been what she'd expected to happen, but, if she were totally honest with herself, she didn't really know what she expected in the first place. There wasn't much else to do, so she tucked away the Pilgrim's trump and posted her guards, then lay down in the captain quarters for a bit of a nap. Once rested, she'd get up and get about solving her current predicament.
She didn't want to use her teleportation spell, except as a last resort, so she instead set about summoning the Logrus Lens and inspecting the ship and the sea about it, looking again for a magical source of the becalmed ship. Once that undoubtedly failed, she watched the gulls and waited for them to leave, watching to see which direction they flew off in.
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Post by Admin on Sept 26, 2019 18:04:34 GMT
The rest is welcome as Bella still feels a dull, nagging headache from the impact of the walking stick.
Searching the ship and area again she finds that all seems to be normal shadowstuff. The gulls fly about, caw maddeningly, occasionally land on the spars or gunwale before taking off again. They don't go anywhere other than the ship and seem to just go through the process of flying, landing, and cawing without any other concerns or ideas.
The heat under the midday sun is enervating, why even the ravens' feathers seem to be starting to wilt.
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Post by Deleted on Sept 27, 2019 18:23:50 GMT
Bella, already having the Logrus up, summons a Logrus tendril and seeks out the closest active sea port.
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Post by Admin on Sept 29, 2019 15:08:21 GMT
The tendril reaches out but no seaport is within reach before her concentration wanes from exhaustion.
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Post by Deleted on Sept 29, 2019 23:30:16 GMT
Bella takes another nap and waits to see if there's a night here.
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Post by Admin on Sept 30, 2019 23:50:12 GMT
The sun doesn't set. The heat pours down unabated. Bella wakes feeling hungry.
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Post by Deleted on Oct 1, 2019 15:41:48 GMT
Bella remained shape shifted (unconsciously) in a form that isn't hindered by the heat, as do her ravens. After all, extreme heat, as well as extreme cold, were as normal in Jesby Ways, let alone in Chaos, as the turnings of the sky. Chaosians unable to accommodate something as minor as uncomfortable warmth would be likely dead before they were even born.
She pulled up her Logrus Lens again and turned her attention from the ship and to the shadow environs, trying to gauge its magical rules. Satisfied with her observations, she found a galley with a large table and cast her banquet spell, attempting to create a feast large enough for herself and her ravens.
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Post by Admin on Oct 7, 2019 19:14:04 GMT
Whatever the properties this shadow has, it is unable to stop the use of the Logrus. Very quickly Bella and her gang are chowing down on tripe, organs, offal, and grubs.
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Post by Deleted on Oct 13, 2019 8:38:58 GMT
Fed and rested, and knowing that these needs can be covered, Bella climbed to the highest point of the ship and searched the horizons. She spoke to the raven on her shoulder as she surveyed the still seas, "No land. No night. No wind. How did this ship come to be where it should not be? Someone put it here."
The bird replied, "Indubitably, my lady!"
She looked down at the ship below her, "This is a death trap, meant for someone. However, it is conspicuously devoid of bodies and of decay. So either I'm the first to come into the snare or someone cleans up afterwards. A cowardly kind of trap."
The bird nodded emphatically, "Most dishonorable, Lady of Jesby."
Bella mused, "If I'd gone through the trouble of setting such a trap, I'd want my victim to know who had done it and why."
The bird cawed, "At minimum, your ladyship!"
She climbed back down the mast and resolved to search the ship again for any clues as to who was behind the ship, starting in the crew quarters, with the captain's quarters first.
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Post by Admin on Oct 14, 2019 5:11:33 GMT
The search of the ship once again reveals no clue as to who created or sailed it to this desolate place in shadow. Everything is, as per strict definition, shipshape. Although there is one place below decks where some faint scratches are found on the hull; they look as if they were frantically clawed by fingernail trying to dig through the wood and into the sea beyond.
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