Colonizing the Dark Continent (For Weiss Ritter)

Xatarias

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Telai frowns. The notion that refugees might not fall into line as soon as order were given seems foreign to her. In the end, she agrees with your proposition.


"Gods know I'm not built for cajoling stubborn noncombatants," She says with a sigh. "Let's just hope being mayor of the Brightfort slums doesn't go to her head... Oh who am I kidding, she's going to needle me no matter what job is assigned to her. This seems like a good role for her to play. She certainly has a... Magnetic personality."


She gives you a pointed look that is more humorous than accusing. Come to think of it, Telai has been a lot more accepting of your split relationship status as compared to the possessive Milly. Although their interaction have been abrasive to put it mildly, the amazon has acted with more tact than you expected. Maybe she was coming to respect Milly... Or simply expected you to find a solution to the problem.
 

Weiss Ritter

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There was a hint of tension in Nathaniel's body as Telai frowned and seemed to fume silently. He very nearly let out of sigh of his own when she gave him her agreement rather than a lecture on compromising the discipline and safety of the makeshift settlement they'd created just because Milly dazzled him with her undergarments.


"Brightfort?" The young man glanced at his right hand woman with a hint of a smile. They did need to call this place something, but that seemed an interesting choice given they'd just agreed on the threats disease, mud, and dwindling water supplies posed. Then again 'Fort Festering Hellhole' probably wouldn't have done wonders for their morale.


"Particularly if she finds whatever job she's assigned boring or unfulfilling. Then needling you will be the hightlight of her day," The ghost of a smile remained as Nathaniel's gaze roamed across the tents and onto the ruins of Newport beyond. His thoughts on how to handle one of the burgeoning settlement's foremost problems were rudely dashed by the look Telai gave him. She wasn't mad, or didn't seem that way, but the tensions between her and Milly were still there.


His relationship with the buxom buccaneer had apparently been something of an open secret even before his and Telai's visit to Alestra and the Hillfolk. Perhaps the fact that the mercenary had some idea of what she was getting into was a factor in her attitude as well compared to the rude surprise his...inconsiderate behavior had been. Regardless, it wouldn't do to just let such feelings fester. He had a responsibility to both of the women on a personal level, as well as a commander who couldn't risk infighting between his two most capable followers.


"How do you feel about working with her?" Nathaniel stood straight up and turned to face Telai fully and properly. "For now, she doesn't have a ship or crew that will be taking her away on voyages any time soon. Even if she did, I'm not sure if we could spare someone like her between the looters in Newport and the Forestfolk on our doorstep. But you both have very different command styles and I have made things more...complicated on top of that. I'm just...concerned..."


Well, he was putting things diplomatically, wasn't he? Perhaps it was more than just bad luck during the negotiations that got them all into this mess to begin with.
 

Xatarias

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Telai stares down at the tangle of humanity below, watching as Milly weaves to and fro, checking in on the new residents as they settle in. Following after her is the rescued youth Freddy, carrying various sundies awkwardly in his one uninjured arm, eagerly supplying Milly with whatever she asks for. The infatuation is clear, although your buxom lover seem determined to let it go unacknowledged.


It's not only the impressionable teenager caught up in Milly's magnetism. Everyone seems drawn to her, cheerfully engaging in her cheeky banter, and gratefully excepting the supplies offered. You wouldn't have thought it given Milly's track record with debt and general mishandling of all things logistical, but she seems to be doing an excellent job rationing out the meager essentials you managed to spare for the newcomers. Not that anyone seems to view it that way. The calculus of your spreadsheets has been transformed into something more- you're not sure what but it seems to work wonders for morale.


"She's handy in a fight," Telai says, interjecting into your train of thought. "What's more, I think she's got a good heart given a little bit of polishing. She genuinely seems to care about you, so I trust her to keep you safe. I just... I just wish she wouldn't glare at me every time I pass, like I murdered her grandmother."


Or slept with her precious cabin boy.


Telai frowns as your face betrays the thought.


"Oh don't give me that! We had known eachother for months, Nathanial! Then she just swooped in and... Well you know. What about my intentions for our relationship? I figured someone that made a habit of sleeping with a person within days of meeting them, wouldn't object to my-erm.... Well you certainly didn't have any objections at the time!"
 

Weiss Ritter

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Nathaniel watched Freddy stop just short of tripping over himself in curvaceous corsair's shadow with a faint sense of concern. Milly was paying him as little mind as she could while still being polite, and he doubted this was the first time she'd had to deal with unwanted advances, but this was the defacto leader of one of the more bold and impetuous factions to join their would-be settlement. Perhaps he was just being paranoid? It did seem a bit ridiculous to fear some kind of betrayal over a mere crush...but he'd abandoned or outright turned on by all but the most loyal or desperate ever since Laughingwind's deception.


He tried to push such thoughts away as the good captain worked a minor miracle.Their rations were severely stretched and until an ample supply of wood could be acquired, the people below would be stuck living in tents and mud under the constant fear of a raid from the Forestfolk or perhaps even the more predatory members of their own kind still lingering around the continent. Yet with scarcely a smile and some well-chosen words, Milly had turned the last cinders of a desperate hope into a fire in a he wouldn't have thought possible.


Perhaps Nathaniel shouldn't have been surprised, though. How much time had it taken the buxom buccaneer to figuratively sweep him of his feet? Only slightly less time than it took her to do so literally!


The thought was a little less amusing once Telai spoke up.


"I know," The young man sighed as he looked back and forth between Telai and Milly below. "I was...hasty, and made similar assumptions when I shouldn't have. She was hired on our the expedition's ship captain, and a voyage back to Avalon was planned to keep my family informed and share some of the more promising crops I surveyed. Back then, she was probably going to be on the open sea for weeks or months at a time. I knew she was concerned for my well-being, but given that I didn't realize she wanted...that she felt so..."


Nathaniel trailed off as his gaze followed Milly. It sounded horrible when he said it now. He'd seen the fear in her eyes when his life was in danger, the lengths she was willing to go to to get him back, and the utter hurt in her expression at the thought of him laying with Telai.Perhaps it all had started out as a simple fling or perhaps even business partners with benefits sort of arrangement, but at some point it'd become something more and taken them both off-guard.


"...I'll talk with her again. Perhaps if she stops fearing that I'll forget her or that you're plotting to take me away like...well, practically everything and everyone on this continent in one way or another..."
 

Xatarias

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"I think... I need to talk to her," Telai says. "All she sees me as now is a threat and like or not, I might need her cooperation. Imagine if you were somehow hurt or otherwise incapacitated. We're going to have to come to some sort of personal accord, especially if I'm to trust her with this new position of authority."


Telai's words ring true. The margin of error for your enterprize was rapidly narrowing and you can't afford conflict between your two greatest assets. Still, the chances of you arranging some sort of heart to heart between Milly and Telai seem abysmally small. Perhaps some sort of an excuse for them to work together and, with some luck, some amount of their weariness would erode. Telai certainly seems willing to try at least.


"Imagine if she had the same personal investment to the company as she had towards that ship," the amazon muses with a sigh. "Something tells me Milly doesn't like being tied down. Not without a good reason to stay at least." 
 

Weiss Ritter

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Nathaniel was silent for a moment. He certainly couldn't argue with that. After all, he'd tried to alleviate Milly's concerns once before. It hadn't exactly been a complete failure but in the end this matter was theirs to resolve or worsen.


His eyes flickered thoughtfully across the makeshift settlement below. The pair would probably be required to work together sooner rather than later, particularly if Milly was the better fit for the less military-minded refugees. Hopefully the pressure they were all under now would only serve to make the pair tolerate each other rather than drive them apart...as it seemed to have for much of Newport already.


"Mph..." Nathaniel choked a bit and nodded with a hint of vigor.


Actually, Milly quite enjoyed...


He struggled to both keep his expression neutral and end that thought before any...colorful imagery could spring to mind.


"Y-yes...well..."


A moment later Nathaniel didn't have to try very hard at all to suppress a childish giggle or grin. It did raise yet another question to be concerned about in the longer term. This entire venture had cost Milly her ship and crew. Mysterious as her background might have been, the woman's love of freedom was clear. What would happen when she was able to regain both? She certainly was if he had anything to say about it. Whatever their relationship, affection alone was poor payment for who'd aided with such loyalty and skill. His stomach was starting to churn in a way that was normally reserved for when the young man thought about his family's response to all of this.


"...We'll see what we can offer her and if it's enough," Nathaniel was making an admirable effort to keep the emotion muted, though his tone was a note more flat and his movements slower. "Everything has changed so quickly since we first made deal..."
 

Xatarias

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The corners of Telai's mouth twitch into a smirk, ignorant of the specifics of your scandalous imaginings, but amused all the same.


"Do I want to know?..." She asks mirthfully. "Well for all that recent events have caused us trouble, it's also left Milly grounded. Like I said, she could be a major asset to our mission here, so we should seize the opportunity while it presents itself. I guess we both have a bit of persuading to do."


She hesitates a moment before stepping close to you and leaning in for a lingering kiss, not one sweltering with passion, but rather fond familiarity. It's still enough to set your head buzzing.


"I'm sorry for... Well, stepping in and expecting you to make room for me. Things are complicated and I should have been better prepared for the fallout. We'll give what we can to eachother, and that will have to be enough for now. So long as you're okay with that, that is."


Your hand is wrapped in a reassuring squeeze while Telai once again looks down at the burgeoning tent-village below.


"You know, I'm starting to see this in a different sort of light. The company and Milly getting in the way of us, I mean. It's not easy but... Well I always did like a challenge."


The grin Telai gives you is unmistakably conspiratory as the lithe beauty hoists herself down the ladder to the courtyard below. What in hells was that about?


Checking your pocketwatch, you realize that there are a few hours before evening sets in. The last few hours have been more than hectic, but things seem well in hand. You have the time to mingle with your new followers, or retreat to your quarters for other endeavors. 
 

Weiss Ritter

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Nathaniel fought the urge to flinch at Telai's knowing smirk. Years of on and off practice of finer muscle control seemed to amount to precious little where the corsair and mercenary captain were involved.


"I think Claire 'subtly' spelled it out quite well..." Nathaniel's words came out in a terse mumble, but there was a faint hint of relief and even humor in his body once the tension left. A little harmless teasing was certainly far from the worst reaction the husky amazon could have had about now.


The young man found himself nodding in agreement. Perhaps the tension between Milly and Telai wouldn't be such an ordeal after all.


"Well-" Nathaniel's attempt to excuse himself was cut off as Telai's lips sealed his own, tapering off into a soft and muffled groan. It wasn't the sort of heated affair that normally preceded someone getting hurled onto a bed and their clothes literally ripped off, but rather a kiss born of pure tender affection. Nathaniel's lean form pressed against the imposing warrior's. Gods...how could someone who could manhandle a cadre of Hillfolk be so gentle?


"Uh..." His head swam a little after Telai pulled back. Nathaniel could feel heat rising in his cheeks. "Yes. Of course. I mean...as you said, I didn't say 'no' when I could have. This is as much my doing as yours, and..."


He didn't recover swiftly enough to finish, but squeezing Telai's hand in return might have spoken louder than words from a flustered pretty boy ever could.


"...Challenge?" Nathaniel stared at Telai as she made her way down the ladder. Was that what he was? Well...thinking about it logically, he hadn't quite thought of himself like that, but...


The young man shook his head with a faint grunt and took several deep breaths to steady his heart and calm his nerves. He had work to do that would require focus and a clear mind. The immediate needs of the refuges had been taken care of and their morale bolstered by a much more personable commander than him. Physically, there was little else for him to do. Mentally, however...


Nathaniel would need someone to watch over him once he was ready to tap into the Song's bottomless well of knowledge. Perhaps Shen'ri? He didn't intent to make a secret of what he planned to do to Telai and Milly, but there was a mental connection between he and the Hillfolk that might give the golden furred native a better idea of when the Song threatened to overwhelm him.
 

Xatarias

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Shen'ri has forsaken his favorite nap spot in favor of a seat at one of the refugee's cook fire. The former townspeople seem to be taking the presence of the hulking beastmen remarkably well. No doubt rumors and the odd sighting during your forts construction had gotten them used to the idea of sentient non-humans, but the daring haul of supplies from Newport's ruins seems to have sealed the deal. If not entirely welcomed as equals, they are at least acknowledged as a powerful asset.


Not that some everyone is so cynical, you realize after watching the golden furry launch a giggling child overhead before safely catching them.


Your companions trepidation is obvious when you explain your plan. His rudimentary communication getting better by the day, his quirked ears and disapproving "murr", is an eloquent enough objection to your song-fueled perception to understand.


Shen'ri is downright scared of the "deep place". Given the majority of his experience with the song was experienced through Agatha, his caution is quite understandable. While he acknowledges your abilities to be a potent weapon, he would much rather you rely on him to keep you safe. Maybe if you agreed to eating the bird head he so generously offered you the other day, you wouldn't be so scrawny and...
 

Weiss Ritter

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Nathaniel watched Shen'ri play with the laughing child with a faint hint of a smile. He expected that the sheer usefulness of the Hillfolk would get the refugees to tolerate and value them, but he hoped something more than pragmatism would come to define their relationship as well. If there was to be any hope of coexistence and the trade it would bring in spite of the Syndicate and Laughingwind's efforts, the natives and the settlers would have to see each other as equals and partners rather than threats to eradicate or walking resources to exploit the moment the tide turned.


It was almost enough to make Nathaniel forget to brace himself for Shen'ri's objections...or try to, anyway.


<Stop>


It was a mentally projected word, not a command or compulsion that Shen'ri would have had to fight to ignore if he wished to continue. The Hillfolk's thoughts came at Nathaniel faster than his body could react and so his mind rushed to intercede. A moment later there was tension in Nathaniel's body to match the steel in his psychic tone.


He remained silent for a time. The young man's pride being stung by Shen'ri's benevolent but patronizing advice was only part of it. The golden-furred native was a juggernaut on the battlefield, but they had to worry about more than "just" open war against enemies who likely had them outnumbered. All Agatha needed to render even Telai helpless was the element of surprise, to say nothing of what she had accomplished with the Hillfolk she took as "pets", and Nathaniel's ignorance of the way others could acquire and use powers like his had already walked them into one Forestfolk trap.


Nathaniel's mind was his greatest weapon, but Agatha's manipulations left the economic and political situation for his expedition in tatters. The Song's power was all he had left.


<I'm not as feeble as you think> He tapped his elegant blade pointedly with a frown. <And I don't see any other options. If you want no part in this, we will find a way to keep the Song from bleeding into your mind.>


Nathaniel turned away. Whether it was to prepare for his next brush with the Song or to find someone else to watch over and wrest him free from it if needed depended entirely on Shen'ri.
 

Xatarias

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A disgruntled growl signals that Shen'ri is indeed following, if reluctantly. He drops to all fours to keep pace with you, giving your shoulder a rough nudge as he comes level with you.


<Well if you're going to insist on being difficult...>


You might find it a little disconcerting how well Shen'ri is taking to this whole mental communication thing.


You're quarters provide a quiet enough place to sit and begin your mental spelunking... If only you knew where to start. Until this moment, accessing the song has been something spontaneous and far from precise. More than once, obtaining the information you needed resulted in a plunge far too deep for your liking. Just imagining being in the Patron's dark lair again is enough to send shivers down your spine. Even if you did manage to penetrate into that sea of memories, there's no telling what the rules might be once you arrived. What if you got stuck in a memory and Shen'ri couldn't wake you? Would you remain indefinitely in that false reality while your body wasted away in the real world?


It's almost enough for you to rethink your decision (no backsies!)


You sit cross legged on the dirt floor and try to regulate your breathing as Alestra taught you in your brief tutoring session. But this time, you allow the voices to creep in a controlled manner rather than the typical deluge. You find it easier than you might have thought. Pull one memory to the for, examine it, and repeat. The process gives you a feeling of control, but you soon realize the sheer vastness of the song prevents you from making any real headway. Interesting as a centuries-old recipe for sourdough bread might be, it was not how you were going to defeat the syndicate's agents. You needed to draw deeper from the well- no dive in and immerse yourself.


Shen'ri whines at your side when you ease open your mental barriers and slip beneath the surface...


The chorus of voices is deafening. You are lost in it- robbed of all other senses saved for the sound of all the memories imprisoned in your consciousness. Some play like a novel, endlessly reciting their pros, headless of your presence. Others are more... Malevolent- reaching out, trying to ensnare you in their alternate realities. Some are disturbing, many frightening. You find yourself loving, hating, denying, and lusting all at the same time, pulled in all directions by the innumerable personalities and agendas that span the ages, yet seem to be locked here all together in this timeless place.


No! Your own memories were here somewhere. They could provide safe harbor- a place to collect yourself while maintaining your sense of self.


<No need Nathanial.... You want answers, and they are right here for you>


A sickening feeling of dread washes over you, casting aside the chaotic tempest, but replacing with an even more disturbing sensation. You don't know when or how, but a door appears in front of you and your hand is on the latch-
 

Weiss Ritter

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<I am>


Nathaniel's jaw tightened. Some small part of him felt pleased with the fact that he was able to just...force his way for once rather than being a thwarted victim yet again. It was only a very small part, however, and it was quickly buried beneath musings over what would happen if he failed here. Death by Forestfolk for everyone was among the more merciful possibilities that sprang to mind.


Those thoughts gave Nathaniel all the motivation he needed as he sat down and shut his eyes. He had almost been overwhelmed the last few times he'd done more than accept the barest scraps of information the Song threw his way; turned into some twisted reincarnation or puppet of the Patron. The notion was enough to give him pause for a moment or two. What if he became the very thing he was so determined to destroy? What if he was "fortunate" enough to "merely" lose all sense of identity to the endless tide of less malevolent memories in the Song's endless reservoir? What become of his expedition and the ones he loved then?


But those were just possibilities that could only occur if he acted foolishly. To do anything less than seize every advantage he could against the Patron and his Syndicate would guarantee that future of the continent would be one of blood and chains written over the corpses of his followers...the lucky ones. Nathaniel had seen the Patron's memories and Agatha had made the man's designs for him perfectly clear. Milly and Telai would be taken...broken into more playthings for his dungeons while he molded the young Brightland's mind into his newest weapon...possibly to be wielded against his own family.



That would not happen.


The sense of grim determination strengthened and steadied Nathaniel's mental grip as he reached for the Song of his own accord. It wasn't hard at all to pull memories from it even while keeping the current on a tight leash. If anything, he suspected the Song wanted him to do this...assuming it had a will of its own. It wasn't enough, though. The memories came freely and easily enough, but it was like pulling out a single page from a single book in an incomprehensibly vast library. They were all flashes of information that was either outright useless (if sometimes interesting) or one part of a much larger context. He had to go deeper.


Shen'ri's whine gave him the briefest of pauses, but the young psychic had come too far to just stop now. Nothing ventured, nothing gained. If safety was all that mattered to him, he would have jockeyed for a position in one of his family's counting houses or domestic businesses.


Even after experiencing the mind-numbing vastness of the Song several times and bracing himself accordingly, Nathaniel felt the urge to gasp as the tide of memories and emotions washed over him. Everything else was lost as they became his world.


Ngh...!


The young man grunted or...whatever the psychic equivalent was as he swatted the memories forcing themselves upon him outright aside. His consciousness was here for a reason, and it was not to give new life to these other agendas! These...active, malevolent agendas. They seemed to have minds of their own, or perhaps they were simply following the same patterns of the ruthless and ambitious individuals who had created them? No matter, they would a constant threat to his exploration here, whatever they were. He needed to anchor himself before going any deeper into the Song, least even the more passive memories overwrite who he really was.


In and instant, everything changed and a shiver likely rand down his spine. The overwhelming chaos of countless memories competing for his attention in form or another was swept aside by a new order. A cold order that made his gut twist and his skin prickle. This...had felt this before? Heard that voice from somewhere? It all seemed familiar...somehow, but the young man's memories weren't his to casually recall anymore. He had his purpose for coming here and...everything else was a blur.


He stared at the latch a moment, his hand resting firmly atop it. All the answers he wanted, arranged in a neat little pile free from an endless deluge of irrelevant lives or would-be usurpers of his own body? It was an appealing thought.


<At what cost?>


The young man removed his hand from the latch in what felt like a second. An appealing thought, but not one to seriously consider without very good or very desperate reason. Malevolent powers within the Song had tried to overpower him even after his "true" memories were swept out of his immediate grasp. What made this...entity different? His need for the power and wisdom the Song offered was great but not quite immediate. There was time for him to learn from it on his own terms without risking everything as a first resort.


<What are you?>


...though, even as he turned to examine the new mental landscape, his consciousness could not help but be curious.
 

Xatarias

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The unsettling chuckle that responds to your query sends a shiver up your spine. When you turn from the door, the merciful order that your senses had clung to burns away and the whispering chaos returns. It's like someone hot stakes into your skull, the agonizing blows coming hard, fast, incessant... This thing isn't letting you go. Not without paying a price.


<I am you... Or at least the part you fear the most. We, us, you, it is all the same Nathanial. You suffer in your separation. The identity you so desperately seek to preserve is eroding, forming into something greater. It is inevitable>


The door returns, giving precious relief from the ceaseless torment. You find yourself drawn closer to the portal.


<I offer you knowledge so that the transformation will be on your terms... Or you can insist on preserving this feeble form and be devoured... All you have, all you seek to protect. It will be taken from you. You are too weak to prevent it>


Images flash in rapid succession. Newport growing into the burgeoning port city of prosperity and diversity you always knew it could be. Your family finally taking its rightful place of influence within the Brightland Group... Milly arched in pleasure as Telai ravishes her neck, coaxing her legs further apart, smiling as you conceive the heir to your empire.


<You cannot achieve these things... But WE can~ Come with me Nathanial, there is so much for you to learn. Just touch the->


A rumbling growl echoes and your clouded mind clears. There is a burst of sunlight and a sharp pain erupts within and throughout you. The flickering image of a massive canid bursts into the deep void, its burning mane bristling as its sharp teeth seize your consciousness, tearing into you. The pain is immense, but you feel control returning, dark tentacles of corrupting influence forced to retract themselves from you.


<No! I won't go back!>


The inhumane scream that erupts rattles your very being. The piercing cry of frustration and rage slowly fades as you are dragged away from the blighted territory he-it-something has claimed within your mind. A door slams open and you fall through. The air is knocked from your lungs as you fall on to a carpeted floor. The familiar scent of dusty parchment mixes with the fragrant breeze from the gardens outside- you know this place.


(This is a memory of your family's library back in Avalon. Feel free to paint as many details as you would like.)
 

Weiss Ritter

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How much of it was his consciousness aping a physical form that had no place in this mental realm or his actual body acting in real life he couldn't say, but it felt like he was grinding his own teeth to powder once the Song became a maelstrom of memories and emotions again.


<P...part of me?>


He sounded almost mockingly skeptical even with the searing pain lingering in his skull.This...thing that could exert such power of the Song expected him to believe that it was just a fragment of his own mind? That somehow a single part of his subconscious could dominate the Song where all other efforts had failed? At least it had reminded him of his name, though. Nathaniel. The basics were coming back at least.


It was a small comfort, though. While the voice rattled on, Nathaniel scanned for way to escape it and the Song's grip. Whoever, whatever, it was, it had the strength and skill to impose its order upon the Song. For now it was trying to tempt him willingly into its domain, but that would change once it realized he wasn't quite so desperate for power as to give in to it immediately.


Something akin to a gasp escaped his lips as the mental landscape around him blinked away. Newport, his family, Milly, Telai...everything he'd wanted whether he'd permitted himself to think of it or not was right there. His enemies gone, the future secured, Milly and Telai there to enjoy it all at his side...or beneath him in that particular instance.


<Ngh...!>


Another grunt escaped his lips but this time born of effort and anger. No. Mental power was gathered and prepared to be unleashed upon the psychic entity and any other memories that dared to try and force themselves upon him. No more being a victim or a vassal, this quest for power and knowledge would be done on his terms!


A distant, ominous noise gave him pause and then pain racing through every fiber of his being ended Nathaniel's assault before it could even begin. Oh gods, was it the other will?! Had it caught on and-No. Some sort of wolf emerged from the recesses of the song, chasing away the darkness and driving off the influence of the other power even as it sank its fangs into Nathaniel's...body, as it were.He shook and cried out, yet stopped himself from lashing back. He could feel the voice and its power growing more distant with each passing moment. But not too distant. Nathaniel could feel the presence lingering even when its grip over him shattered completely. It had roots in his mind. Whether they were always there only came with the Song he couldn't say, but it was part of him now and wasn't-!


Nathaniel barely had enough air in his lungs to even gasp as his body slammed against a soft carpet. His lay there for several moments before slowly forcing himself up. The...whatever that entity was trouble him no longer. The wolf was gone too, yet his muscles were still tense and trembling and his eyes were wide as saucers. He was in his family's library in Avalon, exactly as it had been left when he last left it. Vast and luxurious, yet practical and functional. The Brightland clan had not cut any corners in the design and construction of their manors.


The young man frowned warily and glanced about for any hint that his surroundings were just another illusion meant to trap him. He had to make certain that canine assault hadn't simply seen him trade one set of psychic fetter for another. For a few minutes, Nathaniel explored the rows upon rows of books arrayed before him. Even he with his voracious reading habits and near-religious frequenting of the real library had neither the time nor inclination to read all of the books his family owned. This purely mental construct would have to contend with that fact, which meant...well, he wasn't entirely sure, but if the books he hadn't read before were filled with centuries old recipes for sourdough, then something within the Song had managed to invade what should have been a safe haven.


That and he was kind of curious.


Either way, the rest of what should have been a Brightland manor would have demanded his attention not long after. The gardens especially. A couple of its plots were his...well, he and his mother's. One of them. They'd worked on it together-it had been the start of his hobby as an alchemist. Even if it was just an illusion born of his own memories, how long had it been since he'd tended to the tender plants, savored their sent, and strolled with her gentle hand in his...?
 

Xatarias

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You pull a large tome off a bottom shelf and retreat to your favored nook near a window. The spine of the book carries the carefully lettered label of your father's filing system. What should be inside is a record of your father's banking enterprise for the specified years. Instead, the pages are blank. It seems that there is some degree of logic to this mental universe. Anything that you don't know- or contained within your storage of memories- can't be summoned up from nowhere.


What this dreamscape does help you do is remember things you normally wouldn't. The musty collection of picture books you hadn't perused in years is as detailed as if you were paging through them in the real world and your catalog of alchemical research is exactly as your remembered leaving it. While somewhat encouraging, this discovery also leads you to the unsettling conclusion that any information about the Song would have to be extracted from errant memories... Or bartered from one of the consciousnesses lurking within the shadows of your mind.


A few minutes of experimentation reveals a certain level of control over your environment. While nostalgic to wander the stacks of your old sanctuary, it's far easier to imagine yourself across the room or up two floors and simply find yourself there. Manipulations don't stop there. After visiting your treasured garden, you spend a fair amount of time toying with the weather outside, summoning clouds and even a light shower before retreating back inside. Something tells you that this ability is the key to accessing parts of the song on your own terms... But how to test it?
 

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"Hm..." For once, Nathaniel's curious humming was not accompanied by a frown. So, the Song perfectly recorded absolutely every memory that came under its sway even when the actual person didn't? Not only did that have the potential to become incredibly useful, but it guaranteed that what lessons he did pry from the maelstrom of knowledge wouldn't blow up in his face because someone mis-remembered exactly how much fireheart extract to pour into the compound. It was also rather unnerving. He still knew so little about this ravenous...thing that had been bound to him mind, body, and soul, and every new detail he learned only seemed to make the Song that much larger and intimidating.


Regardless, even if it was truly some avaricious consumer of consciousness and memory beyond even his comprehension, knowledge was the best defense against the unknown and ignorance bliss too often followed by an unforeseen demise. He needed to experiment more while he had the chance.


Nathaniel just glanced wherever he needed, imagined himself there, and then...he was! A small smile crept across his features as a similarly effortless trip to the garden outside allowed him to bend the weather to his will, summoning clouds, rain, and sunlight back-to-back with only a few thoughts. This was amazing! Was...was this what people thought gods felt like? Granted, he was just toying with the weather in his own mental sanctuary rather than carving continents and oceans into a barren world or whatever creation story someone wanted to believe in, but...


Could he make people in here?


Nathaniel made a note to try his hand at it as he walked, not teleported, toward the outskirts of the manor. A large part of the trouble he'd had with accessing the Song so far was that it was an unceasing torrent of memory and emotion even when parts of it weren't intentionally trying to steal his body outright. Navigating even this manor that he spent most of his life in would have been nearly impossible if the pleasant weather he willed now were a raging tempest instead, but perhaps that was the difference between himself and the consciousness that had tempted him with the dark order it imposed on the Song?


Perhaps if he could come to view the Song like this, as a world with tangible things and something resembling logic rather than an swirling, incomprehensible ocean, he could accomplish the same?


He would need to secure this sanctuary of his before trying that, though. The young man pondered the best way to do that as he came closer and closer to what would either be the familiar lands surrounding the Brightland estate or perhaps whatever pieces of the Song itself looked like beyond his contribution to it. Soldiers were the most obvious answer and men and women dressed and equipped as members of elite Avalonian honor guards or mercenary battalions the least creative, but...well, if this was his domain and he wished to experiment, why not have fun with it?


Just to see what would happen, Nathaniel tried to imagine Forest and Hillfolk dressed and equipped by Avalonian measures-their uniforms and weapons adjusted for their slightly inhuman proportions of course. Possibly while marching in parade formation.
 

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You struggle at first to make even one furry soldier, the product of what feels like several minutes of meditation amounting to no more than a few frail wisps that disperse the moment your concentration wilts. Then, inspired by the mythos of so many religions, you get your hands dirty.

You retreat back to the more fallow region of your garden- an area that, in spite of the groundskeeper's efforts, always had a high amount of clay in the soil. You stoop and roll back your sleeves, mashing your hands into the sticky dirt. You think about the Hillfolk and Forestfolk you have encountered thus far, how they move, how they breath. Your hands then begin moving with a precision and artistry that surprises you. The song comes as a whisper, supplying you with details, seemingly eager for your memories to manifest themselves into something tangible... Or at least tangible to your human brain.

The small squirrel figurine in your hand is uncanny- almost frightening in the way that it seems alive. Something then encourages you to put the miniature to you lips and you let out a slow exhale. You imagine the creature larger, bounding through its arboreal home, with all the acrobatic flips and glides that your memory can supply.

The result is exactly as you intended: a living, breathing example of the Dark Continent's jungle denizens... Almost. The dark-furred squirrel before you doesn't have true sentience. He moves and acts exactly as you direct with stunning detail- even responding to certain stimuli without your exact direction (he catches the rock you throw towards him), but there is a lack of true autonomy... Your analytical mind cringes at the assessment, but a lack of soul is as best as you can describe.

It is a simple matter after that to arm and direct your creation and others like him to protect your mental haven. Soon you have a platoon of forestfolk rangers with long-barreled breech-loading flintlocks patrolling the roof of the manor. A force of Hillfolk grenadiers lope through the grounds, bearing inch-thick breatplates and halberds so large that they could cleave a horse in half with ease. Dangling from the dogmen's sides so much like any other sidearm are massive blunderbusses, loaded with a discharge that would be more than adequate to level an entire of hall of smaller human foes.

Your imaginings are so formidable that it makes you relieved that your native rivals currently do not have access to modern arms and armor.
 
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"Hrm..." Nathaniel grunted a bit before the fading wisps of what should have been the first soldier in his semi-imaginary army. It seemed odd at first that he could casually will the weather to be anything he wanted yet a simple Forestfolk warrior was proving to be such an ordeal, but then the rain and sunlight were little more than decoration as far his mental sanctuary was concerned. This mental construct he sought to create would need to be able to react to and counter incursions into his very consciousness-an infinitely more complex task.

The scion of the Brightland clan made several more attempts to manifest his bodyguard through sheer force of will, but the wisps he spawned refused to remain and coalesce into something substantial. His method must have been flawed. If there was one thing Nathaniel's budding psychic capabilities didn't lack, it was raw power. The young man stopped for a moment and took a breath to steady himself. He had been curious about whether interacting with the mental landscape would help him focus his manipulation of the Song's power. Perhaps this was an ideal way to find out.

Digging in mud and clay wasn't exactly an image that was becoming of a Brightland in the sanctity of their own estate, but it was hard to deny that the figurine taking form in his hands helped to focus Nathaniel's thoughts. Obviously, he'd yet to see a medical diagram of Forestfolk anatomy or-gods forbid it-disected one himself, but building off of what he'd observed of their movements and knew of human anatomy it wasn't too hard to extrapolate on how their unique combination of muscle and sinew allowed them to...

Nathaniel tensed and nearly squeezed the clay figurine into mulch when he felt the Song's presence; whispers filling in what he struggled with. Rarely had the Song's useful gifts of knowledge come without a price, but this appeared to be one of those occasions.

At last the first of many stood before him and Nathaniel couldn't help but smile at his creation. That it was effectively an extension of his will only capable of some autonomy rather than an actual, living being in its own right did put a damper on any parallels he might have felt like drawing between himself and the creator-gods of legend, but his pride could live with that. If anything, it was probably better this way. Right now, he needed soldiers whose loyalty and fearlessness would never weaver to defend his mind, not a whole new crisis about dealing with a sapient being that had its own thoughts, feelings, and desires living inside his mind.

Nathaniel wasn't sure how much time passed by the time he was finished, but looking upon the beastmen garrison his mind had created convinced the young psychic it had been worth every second. The sight of the Forestfolk rangers skittering across the estate's rooftops while Hillfolk casually patrolling the yards with some of the heaviest weapons and armor short of artillery in the Avalonian arsenal filled him with no small sense of satisfaction...and an equal amount of wary curiosity.

The Forestfolk had the potential to become masters of modern skirmishing and irregular warfare if they could adapt their tactics to the intricacies of muskets and scaling more than just trees and the sheer power of the Hillfolk could make them shock troops second to none. Of course, the sign languages they used for most of their communication might have been a tremendous handicap. Shouting over gun and cannon-fire was no easy task, but it was probably easier than knowing when to take your eyes off the enemy at just the right time to catch whatever commands a comrade or officer were trying to issue. It would probably make communicating with large groups of your fellows outside of a planned meeting tricky too...hm, could this have been one of the reasons the natives struggled to form tribal confederations while his people had long been in the practices of building kingdoms and empires? On a more practical note, was there any solution to those drawbacks outside of his mental gifts on the off-chance that he managed to gain command Hillfolk and Forestfolk who weren't mere constructs?

Food for thought. Nathaniel had much more immediate concerns to deal with. Now that his sanctuary would be secured even in his absence, the scion of the Brightland clan commanded one of his Hillfolk and another of his Forestfolk guardians to accompany him to the edges of the estate and what he guessed would be the border into the Song. Perceiving and manipulating this mental wonderland had allowed him to accomplish much here, but it was time to test those limits.
 

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As you venture towards the wrought iron gates of your family's estate, the mental scenery peels away like old paint off a wall. Your grounding in the familiar is utterly shattered and your senses begin to muddy with the torrential storm of memories again. It's all you can do to keep hold of yourself and your two body guards. Your grit your teeth and take one step... And then another.

To your relief, you do not get swept away this time. Your mental exercise within the relative safety of your own memories seem to be paying off.

That's not to say that the journey isn't difficult. Venturing forth is like scaling a mountain in the midst of a blizzard... With Shen'ri on your back. Creeping forward, you sweep aside the irksome tide of memories and try to locate something promising, something that could teach you more about this bizarre alternate universe.

Some sensation flares to the forefront, like a single candle lit in pitch darkness. You direct your attention to it and feel... Heat? The grit of sand? The touch of the familiar encourages you to seize upon this fold within the song- perhaps entering into a location like your memory of Brightland Manor... Or whatever lay beyond the door you were nearly pulled through.

This isn't exactly easy for me, you realize. Are you coming in or not?

The breathy whisper is unmistakably female and oddly familiar. Suddenly you realize that you hear notes of Milly, Telai, and even Cynthia. Was this newcomer playing upon your past attractions, trying to get you to lower your guard? But then, you aren't being assaulted as with the first mysterious interloper.
 

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Nathaniel gritted his teeth and tensed both mind and...well...mind-body once he and his furry retinue left the safety of their sanctuary. The Song was as ferocious a torrent of countless lifetimes swirling about him as always, but this time he was prepared. The young man had to fight for every inch "ground" he crossed and every instant of the memories he glanced through, but he was viewing them on his own terms now. Now he just needed to find something useful, preferably before he tired and was forced to withdraw for the rest of the night.

A curious frown formed on his features when something...familiar tugged at his consciousness. Sand and heat...a beach? Nathaniel had no better leads for the time being.

What?

The hairs at the back of his neck prickled at the voice. It was familiar to him as well...too familiar. He could hear Milly, Telai, and Cynthia of all people within it. Whoever, whatever was the source of it had somehow managed to learn that much about him and his...experiences. True, this presence wasn't overtly trying to coerce him into submitting to it, but little good had come of letting the Song or any wills inside of it have their way without him ultimately being in control.

Nathaniel was frozen before the mental passage for a moment before sparing his bodyguards a glance. He steadied himself as much as he could and then entered.

Whether or not this consciousness was anything like the dark one that tried to tempt him, he was going to have to contend with the memories that wished to consume or possess him sooner or later if he wished to pry anything of worth from the Song's depths.
 

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You stumble into the Fold and nearly lose your footing in the sandy dunes that surround you. Far from the exotic beach you had hoped for, you find yourself surrounded by a harsh dessert. A veritable sea of flowing sand mills around you as scorching gusts cause you to wince and blink grit from your eyes.

Suddenly, the dust storm subsides, the azure sky completely unobstructed. A few muffled grunts cause you turn and find your bodyguards buried up to their necks in sand. A step towards them results in a brief flare of wind again and a teasing laugh.

You can leave your pets, Nathanial. You will not need them here.

The voice seems to come from everywhere at once, the barest whisper clear as an echoing shout. You get the sinking feeling that this mysterious stranger has complete mastery over this area of your mind. The power you wielded within the memory of Brightland Manor seems to have evaporated and it's all you can do to divert the worst of this tormenting sand.

Be a good boy and greet your host.

Host? Held captive within our own mind, you couldn't feel more helpless, and that incessant, mocking tone leaves you with little confidence. How were you supposed to greet your host when she didn't have the decency-

"I'm right here~"

You whirl around and find yourself amidst the airy expanse of a ruined temple. The dessert stretches far into the horizon, framed by massive pillars covered in mysterious hieroglyphs. But your attention immediately goes to the woman lounging on the alter in front of you. You want your questions answered, but all the primitive part of your brain will allow you for the moment is to stand and drink in the magnificent form of the goddess in front of you.

First thing that you notice are those mocking emerald eyes, glittering coyly beneath a fluttering of long lashes. A slender hand strokes across her perfect jaw, its movement ensnaring your gaze. You follow it down her bronzed body, between a pair of hand-filling breasts, and across her taut, muscled belly. A scrap of purple silt entwined between her endless legs is all that prevents you sight of her most intimate regions, but by the way she keeps toying with it, you aren't certain she wants you to divert your gaze.
 

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Nathaniel swiftly glanced about to make certain his senses weren't deceiving him but...no. Rather than small slice of paradise with moist sands and air, he'd walked right into bone dry desert from at least halfway across the world. The physical world, at least.

"Ngh...!" The young man grunted as the voice spoke and light sandstorm buffeted him and his restrained bodyguards again. His hand reflexively fell to his pistol-how would that sort of combat even work in this mental arena?-even though the voice refused to give him even a vague direction to point it in. Coming here...probably was a mistake. The sands fell back when his mind pushed against them, but they never stopped swirling and were never far off. Nathaniel gritted his teeth and focused harder, but that seemed to be the limit of what he could do to this...other presence's haven.

Gods dammit, had he really walked into this so unprepared?! Was there really no other way for him to learn how to harness this power without someone plotting to harm him or viewing him as a potential threat to keep weak?!

Nathaniel twisted in a blur of movement to face his "host". It only took him an instant to survey the temple that surrounded them now, the foreign image-based language carved into the stone walls, and lock onto his tormentor with a steely glare. An impressive mental feat that was par for the course for the young prodigy...a shame it lasted for only an instant.

Nathaniel's breath caught in his throat and his eyes moved with a will of their own across the scantly clad goddess before him. Bronze flesh that gave her an exotic tone combined with ample breasts that demanded his attention, visible muscle that made his heart flutter over the idea of exploring every sinew, and long, toned legs that were left all but bare by the scrap of cloth she wore.

Oh gods...

The young man struggled to force his gaze back up to the woman's face and conceal the fact that he'd just gulped, but...well, the mystery woman wouldn't have needed too much in the way of intimate knowledge of Nathaniel's love life to know this was one of the great chinks in the stoic and dignified mask he valued so.

"What...what do you want...?"

The more rational part of his brain was abuzz with questions, naturally, but articulating them was little...challenging for the moment.

...Gods dammit, didn't he have enough problems with women already?!
 

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The stranger rolls over so her ample cleavage hangs over the edge of the alter. She frames you with her fingers as if taking stock of your body, smirking a little as she does so.

"What do I want? Everything of course... Though, I suppose you'll do for now."

Your stomach lurches as the space around you seems to contort, drawing you closer to the alluring woman. It's very similar to when you moved yourself around your family's library, only now it was being done against your will. As you inch forward, the woman gives a predatory smile.

"You see, I and every other being trapped in this cramped headspace would much rather be out in the wide world. Seeing the sites," She licks her lips. "Smelling all the pretty flowers."

"A fledgling gifted with the world's greatest power is a spark that will fade in a few fleeting moments. You need knowledge, wisdom to kindle the flame."

You're on the alter now, the near-naked woman looming over you. The same style of hieroglyphs that line the temple begin blooming across her bare skin in a strange, mystical tattoo. You strain as a tendril of smoke solidifies into a torc around your neck. The restraint is connected to a chain held in your captor's elegant hand.

"Aren't you tired of stumbling around in the dark, Nathanial?" She asks, tugging you closer. "Wouldn't you rather be told what to do?"
 

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The initial shock and...distraction lasted for only a moment. Though Nathaniel's eyes were challenged not to wander too much, they and his posture carried more than a faint note of wariness. He hadn't forgotten the display of power woman had subjected him to, nor the more ominous fact that the voice that lured him into her domain carried familiar tones. Either it was a clever mental trick playing off his own perceptions that he would have to try and replicate later...or she'd access to some of his memories in spite of his attempts at fortification.

Nathaniel was tensed and semi-ready for some sort of attack before the scantly clad woman had opened her mouth. He wasn't prepared for exactly what happened next.

"Ngh...!" The young man grunted as his body was compelled forward. Physically, he remained tense and unmoving, yet the distance between them lessened. No matter how hard Nathaniel imagined himself rooted to the spot, the mistress of this mental desert willed him closer to her inch by inch.

"N-none of you have struck me as the kind to share so far..." Nathaniel all but spoke through gritted teeth. Not that having his mind turned into a devastated warzone for countless wills vying for control was any more appealing than one emerging to claim him.

Inevitably, Nathaniel's body was pulled onto the altar. He grunted and strained both physically and mentally every step of the way, his eyes briskly scanning over the glowing hieroglyphs in the almost desperate hope that some kind of advantage might be gleaned from them. Cold yet elegantly forged metal locking around his neck caused the young man to tense and his mind freeze. Had she just...?!

Nathaniel's eyes darted up the length of the chain and the hand that held them.

Was...had she pilfered half-formed fantasies from his mind, or was this really the first way to express dominance that came to her mind?

The young man didn't resist when a gentle tug of his new leash drew him closer to the nearly naked goddess of a woman. "...I want answers..." His voice barely rose above a whisper.

There was a blur of movement, followed by a point-blank shot aimed at her midsection from the trusty pistol at Nathaniel's side-unless his "host" had an especially quick counter in play. Nathaniel gritted his teeth and gripped at the torc binding him with his free hand. He didn't expect that shot to put her down even if it connected-the woman could freely teleport here at the very least-but it might have given him the opening he needed.

Rust. Weaken. Shatter!

Nathaniel concentrated utterly on a single small segment of the metal. This wasn't his domain, but he had some power over it if mitigating the sandstorm was any indication. If he could sufficiently weaken just one portion of the collar, the whole thing could have been snapped off no matter how strong the rest of it might have been.

"I didn't...come here to trade...one master for another!"

The Patron's memories flashed through his mind unbidden. He'd been so afraid of what that man and his Syndicate would do to everyone he knew and loved if he couldn't acquire the power and knowledge to defeat them. Would this exotic sorceress and the minds she championed be any kinder if they bested him either? He couldn't take that risk. He wouldn't be a victim yet again!
 

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"Why you little-"

The seductress's words are cut off by the discharge of your pistol. She stumbles back, clutching her side, and you direct your attention to the chain that still holds you fast.

The link you focus on balloons larger in your consciousness, like looking at something through a bead of dew. Slowly, you see flakes of rust start to spread and cracks begin to appear. One sharp tug is all it takes and the restricting steel breaks, disintegrating into a hiss of vapor.

Your attempted abductor lays a short distance away, staring bleakly at her crimson hands.

"I-I'm... Bleeding?" She says the word as if it was new to her. "T-this hurts, Nathanial."

Her form starts to flicker and you blink, utterly confused by the blurring image that appeared for only a heartbeat. A tawny hide and... Feathers?
 

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Nathaniel was almost surprised when the woman actually stumbled back, but he wasted no time time. The strong steel collar weakened and snapped before his exertions. The young man sprang off the altar, one hand reaching for his blade while the other holstered his pistol. Could his mind instantly reload it if he focused hard enough?

Bleeding and in utter shock over it, the seductress would have made for a pitiable sight if not for her cut off words moments ago confirming everything Nathaniel believed. She'd toyed with and tried to curse him the moment he asserted his own will. She hardly seemed any different from the mind that had assaulted him before.

"You forced my hand," Nathaniel replied bluntly as he advanced with his rapier at the ready. He paused only when her form flickered for an instant so brief he wondered if it was his imagination. But no, it didn't matter. Whoever, whatever this entity was, it wanted to control him and he was still standing in its center of power.

The scion of the Brightland clan pressed to the tip of his sword against the woman's flesh in silent warning while trying to will a leash and steel collar of his own around her neck. "However wounds work in this realm, I intend to heal that and continue this...conversation. But on my terms."
 

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It's a little disconcerting to see someone sulk while bleeding out, but the temptress does so, doodling crude crimson pictures on the flagstones while you attempt to close the bullet hole in her side.

"I managed to take a few memories of pain from some previous visitors," She says gritting her teeth as you begin to will her flesh whole again. "Wasn't all that pleasant, so I didn't bother seeking out more. Might have- aghhh - might have been an oversight on my part."

The deed is done and the woman appears unhurt once more. When your collar snaps in place, she raises an eyebrow and reclines slowly, crossing those perfect legs.

"Your terms? My my Nathanial, you have a bit of a mean streak, don't you?"
 

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"Is that so?" Nathaniel gave the temple and it's walls a cursory glance. Whoever this was, were they truly such a stranger to pain? Perhaps someone born in the lap of luxury who refused to ever leave it?

"Pragmatic streak," The young man corrected with a prodding tug of his leash. "The last time I negotiated with someone on their terms, it was a trap that saw me paraded their people to underscore their speech before I was used as a messenger. You buried my bodyguards and put a collar on my while crowing about commanding me..."

To say nothing of what happened with Cynthia and his office turned her lair...

His body remained tense and his sword scarcely and inch away from the woman's flesh. If the seductress didn't resist, Nathaniel intended to either teleport or walk her back to where his Hillfolk and Forestfolk soldiers had been captured in sand. And then they would be off to his domain with his "guest".
 

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As you approach your two escorts and the entrance to the Fold containing Brightland manor, you feel the familiar tug of transportation. The distance within the seductress's dessert must have been vast, but you travel it in an instant. Space seems to be fluid here, imposed for only as long as a consciousness wills it. Soon you arrive at your home base, your prisoner willingly following behind.

As you step on the grounds of your ancestral home, a hair raising cackle causes you to turn.

"You fool! You thought to bring me here, to your Center!?"

There is a buffet of wind as silvery wings beat the air and a sleek pelt of midnight fur shimmers in the afternoon sun. The woman you brought to the fold is gone replaced by some beastial amalgam of animal parts.

Her face remains the same, alluring and beautiful, but it is now attached to the lithe and powerful body of a jungle cat. Affixed to her shoulders are massive wings that seem scaled up from that of an owl, cutting the air with silent menace. The sphinx leers at you triumphantly and rises up on her hind legs. Snakes burst from the ground around her, hissing with mouthfuls of baleful venom.

"You've made this too easy, boy!" She roars. "Now you will see knowledge wielded at it's fullest! Look upon my beautiful form and tremble! You will- oww, oww! God's damn it, you little beast!"

Her speech is interrupted by the crack of a rifle from the rooftop. The sphinx lays howling on the ground, nursing her grazed shoulder. Moments later, your Hillfolk grenadiers appear and surround you. Most of the snakes have evaporated with their mistress's break in concentration and the ones remaining are squelched by your cohorts with contemptuous ease.
 

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(I am making assumptions about what Nathaniel is capable of in his own mental domain, so don't hesitate to give me a poke if I go too far :) )

The journey back to his mental stronghold was short and uneventful-making it was pleasant surprise. Nathaniel expected a last minute trick, some desperate effort to strike him down or reveal his power over her was just an illusion while they still stood on the desert's sands. It was almost enough to make him relax and regard his guest and prisoner with some sense of security.

Almost.

Nathaniel spun in a blur of movement at the first note of her cackle, his weapons gripped and at the ready. Nothing could have prepared him for the sight that awaited. The face of a goddess resting atop the body of a jungle cat and held aloft by the beat of powerful wings. She was creature right out of myth and legend, perhaps even more so than the Siren that had gifted him this power.

The Sphinx rose as an apex predator about to grind her feeble prey beneath her powerful frame, but above her and her serpents the cheery afternoon skies grew dark and ominous. Thunder crackled-the herald of a lightning bolt prepared to strike down the one who believed she could attack the creator of this small world without consequence-but a ball of lead fired from an all too mortal weapon beat the young would-be god to the punch.

Nathaniel blinked, almost as surprised as the Sphinx herself, but his hesitation last only for an instant. Strong steel bars rose out of the ground itself and wove together to imprison the fallen Sphinx in a semi-spherical cage. Spikes lined the inside of the metal bars to ensure that any rapid or hasty movements beyond shifting her footing on the ground risked painful punctures.

"Thank you all," The young man glanced the native army he'd crafted from clay and willpower. "Is this the first time you've encountered weapons like these?"

The Sphinx had Nathaniel's full attention as he gestured to one of the blunderbuss rifle hefted by a Hillfolk grenadier. A creature of myth and legend from a land and culture far from his native Avalon...there was so much there he would have been eager to learn about even without his newfound powers to fret about.

"I may be a fledgling with these power, Miss, but I have endured trials by fire and I am very quick learner..."