[ considering the screaming in the bathroom, maybe this is the other side of the meltdown. the ball is rolling up. he ........... lightly kicks it with a foot. ]
Yes, but what kind of magic? [She's out of her depth here but hey, who doesn't like a good swim?] I was hoping to find some runes, or expose an enchanted artefact, or any old clue really. They had us in a very powerful sleep after all, to bring us all the way out here.
Are you... [Hmm. How not to pry too hard on this?] So how's things?
[ tapping his nails along the metal of the pod, observing it. ]
... In the rotted guts of Aeor, you can stand on a crest and look out - amongst the ruins of that ancient flying city there are brilliant specks of blue dotted across the landscape. When you get closer, you see that they're not lights, but shimmering bits and sparks of magic, still holding fast. The inside is perfectly preserved. A moment in ice.
Some are simply the failsafe on some mage's useless trinkets and baubles that he foolishly thought he'd be alive to retrieve in time. Some are people. Some are frozen in their panic, cowering and terrified. Some are calm, awaiting the close-by day they'd be pulled from the wreckage and rescued, having endured nothing but the passage of eternal time. A thousand years of stillness.
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Magic, of some sort.
[ thanks captain obvious. ]
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Yes, but what kind of magic? [She's out of her depth here but hey, who doesn't like a good swim?] I was hoping to find some runes, or expose an enchanted artefact, or any old clue really. They had us in a very powerful sleep after all, to bring us all the way out here.
Are you... [Hmm. How not to pry too hard on this?] So how's things?
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... In the rotted guts of Aeor, you can stand on a crest and look out - amongst the ruins of that ancient flying city there are brilliant specks of blue dotted across the landscape. When you get closer, you see that they're not lights, but shimmering bits and sparks of magic, still holding fast. The inside is perfectly preserved. A moment in ice.
Some are simply the failsafe on some mage's useless trinkets and baubles that he foolishly thought he'd be alive to retrieve in time. Some are people. Some are frozen in their panic, cowering and terrified. Some are calm, awaiting the close-by day they'd be pulled from the wreckage and rescued, having endured nothing but the passage of eternal time. A thousand years of stillness.
So probably something of kin to that magic.
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Rosamund can only imagine the sight. But it's not so unfamiliar. Another tomb of sorts, if we're taking his merry band's namesake for a spin.]
That's exactly what I'm afraid of. [She looks back to the cursed things.] I mean, they're practically coffins already.
Was that your home?
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[ shoving his hands into his pockets. ]
Suppose I lied when I said it was only the one tomb.
[ looking at the machine again though. ]
Time is more easily manipulated than the mages would have you believe.