{{A request for any who wish to join this thread: I often have trouble loading/reading posting tables, so I would appreciate if people don’t use them here. Thank you!}}
It had not been the first Portal he had stepped through, but it had been the worst by far – and the most painful. It had felt like getting pulled apart and put back together again by a curious watchmaker, each piece examined and then set back with a pat of approval – but that didn’t mean it had been a gentle watchmaker. Jigano had stumbled from the rift to the grey dust of an area he would learn to call the Hollowed Grounds, retching and unable to cast even the most basic of the spells he had once known. Wary and perhaps more than a little paranoid, he had taken to his fox form - at least that had remained to him – to find a place to hide and recover.
He had spent the last week exploring, eavesdropping, and trying to understand what had happened to him. It had been a long time since he’d spent so many days in his animal form, but the kitsune found himself anxious about taking a human form until he knew what his reception was likely to be. It seemed he needn’t have worried: he was far from the first person to arrive unexpectedly, and no one seemed to know why or what caused the Portals. Far more troubling was the realization that he was not only far from home, but well beyond the limits of his considerable knowledge of other planes and worlds. The rules seemed… different here. The magic was strange and unfamiliar, as were several of the animals he’d come across. At least he could understand the language! But so much else was new…
The Bubble was a problem. It defied his understanding and seemed to be slowly killing the land around it. It reminded him uncomfortably of something he’d seen in his travels once, a great dome that stretched for miles, a habitat it had been called, for study subjects millennia-dead. Of course, dead hadn’t meant unmoving in that place, though it wasn’t a memory Jigano liked to dwell on. His own journey had very nearly ended that day…
He shook himself, smoothing down the heavy, pale tan fabric of the long, sleeveless tunic that fell past his knees, open up the sides to his hips to allow for freedom of movement. Beneath it was a shorter tunic with loose sleeves gathered at the wrists, pale green and woven of fine linen. Supple leather trousers were tucked into soft-soled brown boots that rose to midcalf. Overall the clothing was well-tailored and made of materials fine enough for comfort but sturdy enough for travel. He had become a pragmatic man, but he set stock in presenting a good appearance, and was used to having the resources to maintain it. Or at least… he’d had the resources.
He didn’t let the internal grimace touch his face, choosing instead to keep his expression serene and politely curious as he made his way through the ruins around the Spire, picking his way carefully to the large – if battered – building he had heard called the “Atheneum.” What he’d picked up indicated that it was a place of knowledge and books and, perhaps, answers. Even if his connection to the deities of his own world had been severed he still revered lore in all its forms, and so such a place drew him as strongly as iron to lodestone.
The entrance was not as secure as he would have expected from such an important building, and one eyelid twitched at the thought of the wind and wet swirling through the shelves of tomes. Once within he cleared his throat, his voice ringing out in a smooth, rich tenor: ”Hello? Is there a caretaker here?”
It had not been the first Portal he had stepped through, but it had been the worst by far – and the most painful. It had felt like getting pulled apart and put back together again by a curious watchmaker, each piece examined and then set back with a pat of approval – but that didn’t mean it had been a gentle watchmaker. Jigano had stumbled from the rift to the grey dust of an area he would learn to call the Hollowed Grounds, retching and unable to cast even the most basic of the spells he had once known. Wary and perhaps more than a little paranoid, he had taken to his fox form - at least that had remained to him – to find a place to hide and recover.
He had spent the last week exploring, eavesdropping, and trying to understand what had happened to him. It had been a long time since he’d spent so many days in his animal form, but the kitsune found himself anxious about taking a human form until he knew what his reception was likely to be. It seemed he needn’t have worried: he was far from the first person to arrive unexpectedly, and no one seemed to know why or what caused the Portals. Far more troubling was the realization that he was not only far from home, but well beyond the limits of his considerable knowledge of other planes and worlds. The rules seemed… different here. The magic was strange and unfamiliar, as were several of the animals he’d come across. At least he could understand the language! But so much else was new…
The Bubble was a problem. It defied his understanding and seemed to be slowly killing the land around it. It reminded him uncomfortably of something he’d seen in his travels once, a great dome that stretched for miles, a habitat it had been called, for study subjects millennia-dead. Of course, dead hadn’t meant unmoving in that place, though it wasn’t a memory Jigano liked to dwell on. His own journey had very nearly ended that day…
He shook himself, smoothing down the heavy, pale tan fabric of the long, sleeveless tunic that fell past his knees, open up the sides to his hips to allow for freedom of movement. Beneath it was a shorter tunic with loose sleeves gathered at the wrists, pale green and woven of fine linen. Supple leather trousers were tucked into soft-soled brown boots that rose to midcalf. Overall the clothing was well-tailored and made of materials fine enough for comfort but sturdy enough for travel. He had become a pragmatic man, but he set stock in presenting a good appearance, and was used to having the resources to maintain it. Or at least… he’d had the resources.
He didn’t let the internal grimace touch his face, choosing instead to keep his expression serene and politely curious as he made his way through the ruins around the Spire, picking his way carefully to the large – if battered – building he had heard called the “Atheneum.” What he’d picked up indicated that it was a place of knowledge and books and, perhaps, answers. Even if his connection to the deities of his own world had been severed he still revered lore in all its forms, and so such a place drew him as strongly as iron to lodestone.
The entrance was not as secure as he would have expected from such an important building, and one eyelid twitched at the thought of the wind and wet swirling through the shelves of tomes. Once within he cleared his throat, his voice ringing out in a smooth, rich tenor: ”Hello? Is there a caretaker here?”
