Channelknight Fadran

"None whatsoever." Fadran replies. "Demon eyes view dark as light and light as dark. Rather, they have antifire torches that soak up light and radiate darkness."

Fadran steps through the portal after his many companions, closing the Parallarity Gate behind them. He finds himself on a darkened landscape, shadowed by an eternal sea of stormclouds in the sky. Before him, an enormous metal gate sits proud inside a mountain, the sides of which were adorned with hundreds of walls, parapets, turrets, towers, and the like, each manned by entire squadrons of demons sitting bored on guard duty. "So those guys are demons," Fadran explains, pointing at the shadowey figures, "but that doesn't mean they're evil. They're probably more reasonable that the high elves. Besides, if it's after the war of the Iconar Collective, then we should be fine." It is indeed post-war now, Icona remarks, the six realms are one at this point in time. "Right. So it is after the war, which means that I should be able to get us in and explore literally anywhere within the vast catacombs of Sunken Deep."

Fadran turns around. "Omnipotent dude? Mister archer guy? Hugspren? You guys coming?" @Nathrangking @Spren of Kindness

Fadran glances over his arm, nodding at the tattoo. It looks nice. Icona remarked. Thanks. Fadran replied. "You said 'using it correctly.' Is there a way to use it incorrectly?"

"Aight, y'all. Let's hit the road!" Fadran creates a miniature Parallarity Gate to Sunken Deep. "If there's a gate anywhere, it's in Sunken Deep. It's basically an entire kingdom of just a massive cave, and a lot of the tunnels haven't been explored. Usually, we'd avoid those tunnels, but we have a quick-escape mechanism called my Channelblade."

Fadran swabs down his wrist with the fluffy pad, casting a wary eye about the room. You could never be sure with the Ghostbloods. You see anyone? Fadran asks telepathically. Well, I could, Icona replies, but provided metaknowledge would make you an OP character and therefore a rulebreaker of the Alleyverse RP, so no can do. Fair enough. Fadran keeps watching nonetheless.

"I know some places. We could try any number of Wayward Planets, or some place in the Omniverse. Ooh! Or we could go hunting for hidden Universes."

"You don't need brains to go on an adventure! Just a weapon."

I'm assuming that I'm a tribute, right?

Fadran stretches, then turs back to face Tazeroth. "Can we go on an adventure now? I wanna go on an adventure."

"Oh, no. That made perfect sense. I talk to a freaking god all the time!" Less a god and more a diety. Icona corrects Fadran. "I was complimenting you. Don't correct me."

Fadran taps his wrist. "Does here work?"

"Haha! We did it!" Fadran pumps his fist. "Who are you?"

"Great, thanks." Fadran frowns. "You have a name?"

Fadran Forges a Spirit Bond to all the air in the area he can, then funnels it into a miniature hurricane. "Fire away!" (pun intended).

"Do it."

"If we could blind the croven... or, ooh! Here's an idea. Could we make them all flock into one area, then explode them all at the same time?"

Fadran shakes his head. "Notting the--" He clears his throat. "I'm not gonna make a wall of fire. I was wondering if we should create a smokescreen."

Fadran. I skipped the first few parts; hope that's okay. The other day, I happened to run into a Traveler from a universe called the "Stubverse." He was in a bit of a hurry, so we barely had enough time to exchange Macrosmostic Business Cards before moving on. His directed me to his home planet of Pencilli, which retains a magic similar to that of Rithmancy in the Alleyverse. On the Business Card, it said that it had the "Best Dueling Magic in the Macrosmos." I was a little skeptical, so I decided to take a visit. The first thing I noticed was that most people there wore pencils behind their ears; a trope that I felt instantly connected to. There were a number of buildings lining the streets, however, labeled "Drawfight Pub." When I entered one, I found the telltale signs of a scheduled fight: sweaty men in beards cheering, a large metal cage holding two people, and lots of drunks. Observing the current fight, I noticed that either contestant was hurling pencils at each other like Thor's hammer from the Marvel Cinematic Universe (which is most definitely in the Macrosmos). These pencils, when thrown, created a variety of effects, such as trails of fire, large spark fountains, or spikes of ice before returning to its owner. I started researching, and found that pencil lead (graphite) channeled magic as well as plant matter does in Ivinan. The color of the graphite determined what effects would occur when a pencil was thrown. I have listed a few below: Red: Trail of fire Orange: Wave of Sparks Yellow: Trail of rock Green: Mud splatters Blue: Trail of water Purple: Ice spikes It seems as though certain colors affect each other. For example, mixing stone and water creates mud, which is generated by a Green graphite (green being, of course, the secondary color formed by Yellow and Blue, I.E. Rock and Water respectively). I didn't have much time to study this further, as I had some business to attend to back in my homeworld of Ivinan, but I may be reinvestigating this world later. Pancakes

"Wasing the much of canning!" Fadran created more midair explosions. He frowned. "Notting the bright of knowing if making the burn wall air."

*Sigh* I'm an idiot. Amnesia

"Nips notting the having the memory?" Fadran asked, frowning. He cut through several croven with his Channelblade. "Wasing the sorry of having. Wasing the thanks of helping!"

Hello! It is I, Fadran! I kind of like that introduction better. Whoever my author is, he'd better write that down. While traveling about the Omniverse, I stumbled upon a doorway to a Wayward Planet in the Macrosmos. I, of course, was quite excited, as Wayward Planets tend to be rather rare. I immediately began to spark up conversations with the locals, and everything was going well, until one of them told me that I had "very beautiful eyes." I was very confused (I can assure you that my eyes are muddy brown and altogether quite nasty-looking), but thanked them for the compliment. They seemed disappointed by this thanking, for some reason, though, leaving me and sighing quite audibly. I encountered a series of other people who provided a lot fewer nonsensical conversations, but at one point I bumped into a large, muscled fellow, who immediately told me that I was the most gorgeous person he had ever seen. Now, dear reader, I am a heavy advocate and approver of LGBTQ+ citizens of the Macrosmos and elsewhere, but remain a straight man nonetheless. I began to stutter out a mixture between an apology and a thank-you, at which point his muscles visibly began to grow. He continued complementing my "beautiful hairdo" (I had neglected to comb it that morning), "beautiful eyes" (I have already described that one would sooner stare down a slimestained tadpole), and "gorgeous posture" (I was probably slouching). By the time I left him, his muscles were twice as large. And, whenever I encounter an anomaly such as that, I tend to do some researching, so I popped over to the nearest university as a guest student and bombed some lectures. I learned rather quickly that the magic of this world (which the locals insufferably named "Awkwardia") is based around the increased awkwardness of a situation. Supposedly, every living creature has a daily allotment of "Self-Esteem Points." Whenever a person they're talking to makes them feel awkward, part of their Self-Esteem Points leave them and enter into the other conversation member. People can do just about anything with these Self-Esteem Points, a few of which I have listed below: Increase muscular strength Improve mental capacity Increase speed (either physical or mental) Decrease levels of exhaustion I tried this out for myself, and, being a master at making situations awkward, I had quickly racked up a few hundred of these Self-Esteem Points, with which I increased my own writing speed to record my stay here. As I left Awkwardia, I felt what few Self-Esteem Points I had left vanish. Apparently, those points are Universally-Locked. What a bother--imagine what I, the awkard-situation-making master could've done with so much knowledge of that magic! Regardless, it's nice to know that in another world, one of my many flaws is actually a strength. Maybe that'll help improve my self esteem.

Fadran closed his eyes and Forged a connection to both the air and the heat of the sun. He allowed his Spirit Bond to become the fuel for the flam, and with a wince, created a massive explosion, incinerating a good twenty croven.