”I’ve never seen or heard of them eating anything,” Jigano replied thoughtfully to Quanil’s question. ”They seem to be fairly solid all the way through, so I’m not sure they physical can. They don’t seem to roam much, either. All of the encounters I’ve heard about or experienced have been when entering their territory. If they lived in caves or places humans didn’t, they wouldn’t be much of a problem… but for some reason they seem to prefer human buildings to lair in.” He nodded at Libbs as she spoke up too, but again he wasn’t able to offer much more insight. ”Sentient enough to respond to stimulus, but no record has ever been made of anyone successfully communicating with one. They don’t seem to be, ah, ‘programmed’ – if I’m understanding your use of the word? They’re like other aggressively territorial animals, like wolverines or badgers, they just happen to be made of stone rather than flesh.” He shrugged helplessly at the next questions, which he probably should have expected. ”They seem to be rather magical rather than purely natural, but whether they were made by the gods or something else, no, we have no idea where they came from or how – or if – they reproduce.” Maybe they were the leftovers of some mad mage’s army, or perhaps some experiment of Rae’s or Frey’s.
”ROUSes are drawn to anything they can eat,” he answered the last question wryly. ”Animal or vegetable, meat or plant, moving or unmoving. Things that smell strongly or things that move and make noise are more likely to get their attention faster, though,” he warned.
He paused to catch his breath and let those writing catch up, then moved on to the next subject. ”Many of you have already been to the Labyrinth,” he said wryly, nodding towards the naturals in the room. ”There are three things to watch out for in there. First, the Speaking Squirrels that will lure you in and try to get you lost within the maze. They’re a bit bigger than the average squirrel, but they have the ability to say a few simple words. ‘Yes,’ ‘No,’ and ‘Follow me!’ is the limit of their vocabulary, but it’s enough to trick anyone who doesn’t know them into following them. No, they aren’t particularly smart or able to truly communicate,” he said with a grin for Libbs. ”It’s more like they can mimic those sounds without really understanding them. But if you try to leave the maze they get aggressive and will throw stones and thorns at you. A few are an annoyance, but being continually pelted by them for hours as you try to escape? Death from a thousand small cuts is still death, eventually.” He stopped to take a drink, holding his hand up for patience while he wet his throat.
”The reason it would take you so long to leave is that the Labyrinth itself seems to move. I’ve tried to map it several times, even used the old ball of string trick, but the hedges seem able to shift when you aren’t looking at them – and if you try to harm them, they’ll fight back with thorny branches. Between that and the squirrels it’s very difficult to find the center, and even more difficult to leave without wings or a winged guide above you to scout out the correct path before it can shift.” He paused then shrugged wryly. ”Though at least, so far, there’s always been a path out again, even if it’s hard to find. The Labyrinth doesn’t seem conscious or intelligent, necessarily, but it certainly is able to react to those inside it.”
His humor faded to sober lines at that point as he looked out over the small gathering. ”The real danger in there, though, are the boggarts. They’re shapeshifters and, to some extent, mindreaders. They take the forms of people or things you might love or fear – or some amalgamation of them both – to scare you back towards their partner-hunter. They usually hunt in pairs like that, though sometimes you might find a single boggart, or its partner might retreat if you don’t react by running towards it and instead turn and fight the first. So. To make a long story short, Speaking Squirrels lure you in and get you lost, the Labyrinth shifts to prevent you from leaving, and eventually a boggart pair may try to kill and eat you. Any questions?”
”ROUSes are drawn to anything they can eat,” he answered the last question wryly. ”Animal or vegetable, meat or plant, moving or unmoving. Things that smell strongly or things that move and make noise are more likely to get their attention faster, though,” he warned.
He paused to catch his breath and let those writing catch up, then moved on to the next subject. ”Many of you have already been to the Labyrinth,” he said wryly, nodding towards the naturals in the room. ”There are three things to watch out for in there. First, the Speaking Squirrels that will lure you in and try to get you lost within the maze. They’re a bit bigger than the average squirrel, but they have the ability to say a few simple words. ‘Yes,’ ‘No,’ and ‘Follow me!’ is the limit of their vocabulary, but it’s enough to trick anyone who doesn’t know them into following them. No, they aren’t particularly smart or able to truly communicate,” he said with a grin for Libbs. ”It’s more like they can mimic those sounds without really understanding them. But if you try to leave the maze they get aggressive and will throw stones and thorns at you. A few are an annoyance, but being continually pelted by them for hours as you try to escape? Death from a thousand small cuts is still death, eventually.” He stopped to take a drink, holding his hand up for patience while he wet his throat.
”The reason it would take you so long to leave is that the Labyrinth itself seems to move. I’ve tried to map it several times, even used the old ball of string trick, but the hedges seem able to shift when you aren’t looking at them – and if you try to harm them, they’ll fight back with thorny branches. Between that and the squirrels it’s very difficult to find the center, and even more difficult to leave without wings or a winged guide above you to scout out the correct path before it can shift.” He paused then shrugged wryly. ”Though at least, so far, there’s always been a path out again, even if it’s hard to find. The Labyrinth doesn’t seem conscious or intelligent, necessarily, but it certainly is able to react to those inside it.”
His humor faded to sober lines at that point as he looked out over the small gathering. ”The real danger in there, though, are the boggarts. They’re shapeshifters and, to some extent, mindreaders. They take the forms of people or things you might love or fear – or some amalgamation of them both – to scare you back towards their partner-hunter. They usually hunt in pairs like that, though sometimes you might find a single boggart, or its partner might retreat if you don’t react by running towards it and instead turn and fight the first. So. To make a long story short, Speaking Squirrels lure you in and get you lost, the Labyrinth shifts to prevent you from leaving, and eventually a boggart pair may try to kill and eat you. Any questions?”
