DragonHeir
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“It takes magic and it makes you use it. It changes the magic, lets you do things that aren’t possible, but you can’t control it. A King’s advisor grabbed me, and caused it somehow. It started as itching, but when I use magic - when it makes me use magic - it grows. That’s all I know so far. I’ve never seen anything like it.”
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“It is spellsteel. Or, something that should be spellsteel. Instead of focusing my magic, it’s eating it.”
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Veer nods. “If you could, that would be invaluable. Don’t worry, as long as you don’t touch whatever this is, and I don’t melt down again, you’ll be fine.”
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Cole goes up to somebody who looks like they work at the tavern, and does exactly that, still eating someone else’s breakfast he stole. -
“That would work, I assume. But how is that possible? You can heal people without using magic?” Veer, lying down on the hospital bed and half covered in grey metal, nods. “Hello. Are you injured too? I can wait.”
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“Yeah, seemed like it.” He shrugs. “I’ll pay them retroactively.”
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Hello! It’s good to see someone else engaging in the community. Generally, simply dropping in works; most RPs are actually much easier to join than you’d think. I’d avoid TLT and Alleyverse (those do have a lot of lore, I think), but essentially any other RP will take new players easily. Insanity Clinc, although it’s been around a long time, is actually very beginner friendly. Right now, there’s one plot of several established characters, and one with several new characters. It isn’t very fast paced (if you want something faster, try the one Raven started yesterday: The Test, I think it’s called), but it should be a good start. Just make a character, show up at the front desk, and ping @sparkofhope, who plays the receptionist.
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“That’s good. I slept well too. I probably should have asked if the room I took was empty, though. Last week, I would have done that.”
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“Yes, I know I’m a little crazy, but it doesn’t matter, does it? How did you sleep?” he asks, munching on a biscuit.
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“I suppose so.” His voice, as well, is strong - very wizardy sounding. Olvax sits down. “Novem. You work here, I assume. I’ve heard about this place; it’s intriguing.”
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“I did. Sleep is important. Nobody knows why, but I am ready now.” He also walks downstairs, then flapping the cloak for wind. He sits at the table with the others, and begins to eat food from a plate on another table.
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Rust looks around, but this land is so blurry. They find a rock, and form a sort of hand around it. Rust comes back, but they are not good at holding things and drop the rock. Regardless, the curved shadow-food looks much sharper than the rock. Ensuring that only a few nodes touch it, the pick up the blade half of the scythe, brandishing it in a tendril.
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Olvax strides through the doors, staff striking against the floor. Its grip is wrapped in similar leather to his robe, and the wood is well polished.
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The rash does not recede, and it seems not all the light came back. “I do; the corrupted spellsteel that eats magic ate the magic. What should we do about it?”
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A man dressed in a long robe made from some sort of leather from a scaled animal strides into the test. He leans on a gnarled staff, and although his build makes him seem young, his hair and beard are starting to grey.
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The flakes do absorb, but the leg doesn’t heal. Instead, the rash starts to spread further, reaching the end of Veer’s left hand, and getting worryingly close to his eye. His mouth is half metal, but it works fine as he cries, “No! Stop the magic! It’s stealing it, somehow.” Luckily for Ella, her healing doesn’t seem to open an actual conduit, but rather creates discrete units of healing. Otherwise, the corrupted spellsteel could jam it open and keep drawing power.
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Fourth glares, and Magic Connects to him, then does the magical equivalent of the “grab lapels then slam against wall” troupe/cliche/thing. He flicks his wrist, doing a “shut it” gesture.
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Rust jumps on the women, wailing ineffectually on her with tendrils that flex and fall apart on impact. “How do you fight?! I am not a copper demon!”
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Veer lies down on the hospital bed, setting his own leg by lifting it and redirecting the movement. Somehow, it seemed it didn’t work as well as it had in the past.
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Cole wakes up, surprised nobody had attempted to enter the room he’d taken. Despite his dreams, maybe he’d been being too “Freedom”y - he’d simply tried doors until one was unlocked. His tent-cloak is closer to wings, now, with tent struts repurposed into a frame for the cloth. It was still warm and waterproof, too, so it’d serve as an ordinary cloak when flying wasn’t needed.
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“So I will take the sight-covering off. We should see if a node can look at you, after we banish this copper human.” Rust waits for the signal, then “runs” towards the woman, leaping and flowing across the ground.
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“How should I know? Maybe some advisors would know exactly what to do, but I grew up in the Lawless. But I feel fine, for now. I’ll definitely need a way to not destroy everything if I melt down again, but it’ll probably take some magical specialist to fix the spellsteel. Do you think you can deal with the broken leg and ribs, though?”
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Rust isn’t very experienced with combat, but they extend limbs, planning to do … something. Probably. “So what now?”
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There’s blood on the floor, an open prison cell with a corpse inside, and an roughly spherical area at the bottom of the hole where everything seems to have been torn out: cell bars, wall bricks, stair planks, even concrete has been shattered and ripped away in that spheric. The man tries to stop the nurse from touching the strange corruption of magic that makes up his rash. “Well, my name’s Veer. Spellsteel is supposed to be for channeling magic through - some people have the Gift to make it, or manipulate it, but anyone can channel their gift through it. It makes magic more focused, more precise, and over time, it lets others use your magic through it. For instance, I have this circlet -“ he touches the silver circlet on his head, which has prismatic reflections - at least, until it gets near the rash on his face. He tugs at it, but it’s stuck to the corrupted spellsteel. “Oh no. That is likely bad… nothing we can do about it now, though. Normally, my power is to change which way things are moving without slowing them down or speeding them up. It’s why they call me Veer. But since that advisor messed with my magic, I’ve made things float into the air, and torn things apart with incredible force. And it feels like I’m always channeling through the rash, like it’s syphoning power out of me; right before I lost control it was pulling my physical strength, not just magical. When I melted down, it grew a lot; I think that it made me overload so it could take more power. Or the advisor made it do that every so often - I don’t think it can think.” He moves the metal arm. “I don’t feel very much from the metal areas, but I can move them, and they seem as strong as normal spellsteel - I fell on this arm as well as the leg.”
