Channelknight Fadran

"Yeah, uh--" he cringed. "Oh dear."

"Well, then show it differently!" Ollie gestured up the mountain. "Phaedrus is fighting hordes of ironclads because of something stupid that you did!"

"Would it be possible to create a Mindscape that's open to anyone with the right mindset? Like... if I wanted to, say, create an eternally-lasting rave Mindscape, could I make it open to anyone looking for glow juice and terrible music?" "Looks like he's busy chatting with the demigod over there."

"You don't care, do you?"

"In that case, do you mind if I ask you a few questions about Mindscapes?" "Oh, uh... we are the strategy. Fadran's the strategy-maker. I'm the strategy-doer."

"Oh, you're, uhh... trying to join the Elite Core?"

"Are you up to that right now, or would you rather... relax for awhile?"

Eek! Sorry, frens. Someone gimme something to give a lesson about, and I'll try to write one out tomorrow. Maybe we can go Q&A style? How are your spreadsheets formatted and whatnot? I'd like to give this a shot.

"Well... you put those backdoors there, right? How long would it take to check if they're still there?"

"Twenty crescents says Rish has found her backdoor and we're gonna have to go with method numbet two."

"I'd only be worried if there weren't any risks involved. Go on."

A loud yell of pain came from the king's chambers.

"Well... Ayia's started up an elite team to punch a hole in Wyrn's defenses, and we're collecting volunteers to go find Vapor--which reminds me," he leaned in a little closer and lowered his voice, "we need to get into a Mindscape. How exactly does one do that?"

"You've been gone for half an hour. What do you think?"

"Can you stop pretending like this is all some sort of game!!!" Ollie screamed.

"Hi, uh... hate to burst your bubble pal, but I already have my Friday nights booked for about a month." "Nath! You're back!"

Ellis pulled off the arm and hurled it across the field. He wouldn't let anything that Dr. Who Octopus might've once had come anywhere near his squid. "Buddy?" He asked quietly. "Gerald... c--can you--" He swallowed. "Can you hear me?"

With a yawn, Janice finished coloring in her drawing. She folded it up and placed it in her pocket, then proceeded to fall asleep on the table.

The king stood up, grunting as his joints creaked a little. He was much too old for parties; or having children, for that matter. "Eleanor," he said to his betrothed, putting an honest effort into not growling at her. "I'll be going to bed now. You may... continue to familiarize yourself with the court. Share a few dances." Ivian shook his head, then stalked off into the dark hallways to seek out a reprieve from the lights and noise. He noticed a decided lack of servant girls on his way through the passages; they'd all been taken into the bushes by other noblemen, most likely. Had his manservant not been standing beside him before he left, Ivian would've suspected that Nicolae had taken care of three on his own. He didn't spare a glance at the line of King's Ladies standing in front of his bedroom door, though they spared plenty for him. Several of his assassins were sent from their parents to bear children of royal blood, regardless of legitimacy. Most of the ones here were as old as he was, however, and all were tired of their secondary duties to the kings they had served. It had been years since he had even considered using them, though several still released sighs of relief as he passed into his bedroom without a word to them. Ivian dismissed several servants meant to dress and bathe him--he could change his own clothes, thank you very much. After switching into nightrobes, he blew out the candles and went to sleep. @Condensation @Shard of Thought

Ellis hurled a stone at the octopus, but he was already too far away. After just a few beats, his anger turned to a terrible sorrow, and he ran back into the tent to check on Gerald.

Ellis stabbed the octopus in the face.

I gave you the goat statue.