Goob
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"What are you writing?" I ask, curious.
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"He seems promising. Shall we go talk to him?"
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"A respectable cause. Still, did you teach yourself swordplay? Few survive in these times without a good weapon and the will to use it."
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"This is no laughing matter, lady. Please just tell me the House, and I'll leave. Do you want pay?"
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Oh. Oh yes. This was perfect Spade frowns, the sighs, face drooping. "I... apologize." Bah, it pained him to say that for the second time. He was a Narrator, weaver of tragedies, not some sniveling character! But to get this girl's sympathy... "I understand your feelings, girl. I spent years weaving stories, watching characters unfold to their fates, influencing them and leading them to their destinies, to the conclusion. But then the Hall of Words came and destroyed it, wrecked it all within moments, years- no, decades worth of work obliterated before my eyes, and then they took away my ability to fix it. Gah, it crushes me to even think about it."
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"It shall be nice, having someone to speak with on these forsaken plains. Tell me, if you are not a soldier of Odoacer, who do you pledge your allegiance to?"
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"Haha, indeed. Now come, it's a bit of a walk to the archives. They have a record of Radiants and their missions given to them."
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"Did you not hear my Narration? It's been perfectly restored. There's no need to further inspect it. Do you not see? There's no need for you to continue working this silly Character work. You could fix a thousand engines, a million motorcycles with just your voice once you get powerful enough. And... if you help me, I could help you. Not just with your Narration, but with your memories."
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"Oh? And when was the last time you were in the Hall? Or tell me, do you remember every single person's life you've ruined? From your perspective, I might of been some other character, especially in the whirlwind of Narration in the Hall."
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Hmm. Perhaps he shouldn't antagonize these two Narrators. It couldn't do anything but harm, and perhaps he could get some help from this girl, despite his earlier reservations. There certainly was some excellent anger in her eyes... "I... apologize. I just find it irritating how casually you are taking this serious situation." The engine un-collapses itself, screws spinning themselves in and oil and grease surging back out of the ground. The damage or modifications the girl was working on have been accordingly fixed and modified to the girls' wants. Spade sighs and sits onto the grass, exhausted. His recent Narrations were barely anything for his old power- but for his bound self, it was infuriatingly tiresome. @xinoehp512 "I'll have you know it was the entire Hall of Words. They're fools, but you cannot deny the power of a hundred Narrators focused on one man."
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"And who might you be, hum? A Narrator of the Hall of Words who tried some pathetic prank on the mimes and got punished for it?" He takes a deep breath.
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"Well, you'll love Urithiru. Lots of people from every-" Before he manages to finish his sentence, the Oathgate is worked and everyone on the platform is teleported to Urithiru, and the sound of the bustling city appearing suddenly.
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"Very well, my friend. Do you wish to sit around my campfire to escape the cold?"
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"One of the great houses? Which one?" Her parents had dealings with the Great Houses. She wouldn't have them dealing with one that supports criminals and thugs, and they wouldn't want to either.
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"A couple weeks, I think."
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"Bah! Do you not understand, girl? You have entered a world of gods! You are a god, you have no business repairing character's vehicles!" The engine collapses into it's components, screws falling onto the grass, oil and grease seeping into the dirt. "Shall you focus now?!"
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"We don't know. You'll probably have t have to do some spying and some research. I'm unsure how magical this land is."
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He shrugs and follows after.
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"Narrators are the ones who tell the story of life. We warp and twist the world to our whims and desires. Most of us reside in a place called the Hall of Words, and most of us are complete idiots who lounge around and do nothing but cause chaos in the Narrational Plane where we stand now. A few of us, however, decide to abandon the luxury of the Hall of Words and create stories, true stories. We seek... We seek catharsis." The word rolls off his tongue like a drop of dew off a leaf in the early morning, and there's a unnerving glint in his eye. It only lasts for a moment before his eye return to their glassy eerieness. "Yes. I assume those other Narrators we met were such people."
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"And who might you be?"
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"You see, I am in a bind, girl. I am practically powerless now after the fools from the Hall of Words bound me and my powers. And you were the closest Narrator on the Narrational Plane. I was hoping for a powerful narrator that would be able to help me, not some amnesiac."
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"Do not blame me for the sudden appearance of two conflicting Narrators. Trust me, it would of been rather convenient for me if some Narrator had just appeared before I walked for three months to find you."
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Meanwhile, Spade stands unhappily in an empty lot on the side of the road where the shop once was. He had simply watched the exchange as it happened, knowing a wrong move could get him obliterated by two very, very powerful Narrators. If only he was at his prime form, he could easily match or perhaps even succeed those two power. But for now, he had to to clever with his Narration. Spade walked into the sort of slipstream left by the shadow Ignitis when they teleported to Valve. It was close, but he managed to not die as he entered the field with Valve, Xinoehp and Shame.
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You can see no one but Kalarius and his horse. As you enter the town he calls out to you. "Hail, soldier. Are you a scout of Odoacer?"
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Kyt walks back. "No luck. They certainly aren't in this city, so we won't have to backtrack, at least. Anyways, this is your first time at Urithiru, right?"
