A New Disciple is Made

I'm more posting this for suggestions than anything. Trying to get the dialect of my character through is rough, I know, I'm working on it, but this is my idea for "novice tests". I want to make things less interview, and more an event. Let me know what you think, I am good at taking constructive criticism!


You say, "'ello."

Jandelir stoops to gather up the planthopper before standing, straightening his staff with a nod. "Hello."

You say, "Y'tryin' ta make gold?"

Jandelir says, "Yes. With how much I seem to eat and refill my vials, I go through what I make with the planthoppers pretty quickly."

Azzello flashes Jandelir a wide grin filled with chipped and broken teeth, "Maybe m'have somet'in m'need done. Y'do it and make a bit of gold no?"


Jandelir says, "If I can help, I would do so without expectation of gold."
Azzello waves a dismissive hand as he stabs the end of his staff into the ground and leans his weight into it, "Not'in is free, y'do well ta remember t'at, so it is in nature, so it is in life. M'need corpses, a special kind, ten of t'em should do."

Jandelir says, "What kind?"

Jandelir says, "And 'free' and 'gold' are not an exclusive relationship, especially if comparing to nature. There are trades and exchanges, but they are not always a thing of raw payment."

Azzello tosses his head back as a bout of grating laughter emits from his mangled frame, the beads portruding from his skull clinking together in a sound that almost mimicks laughter themselves, "T'at is a true t'in, but in t'is case? Gold be t'e most fittin' payment. Y'know where t'e Siroccian Tunnels be?"

You say, "No."

You say, "Better yet, t'e Khauskin Mines."

Jandelir shakes his head, leaning to brace his staff against his shoulder so he can comb a few stray hairs away from his face. "No, though I can find them. I have not explored much past Duiran of yet, been to Rebel's Ridge mostly."

Azzello looks to Jandelir with a solemn look, the playful cheer gone as he speaks in a serious tone, "T'e Khauskin Mines be found at 25408, t'em Dwarves up above b'decent enough folk, but Vampires lurk below. M'need their corpses."

Jandelir says, "I will test myself against them, then."

You say, "Are y'prepared?"

You say, "Armor, curatives."

Jandelir says, "I will not know until I face one," though he peels back a layer of cloth to display his academy ringmail. "I just topped off my vials and the requisite herbs for a Beyam."

You say, "Make sure y'firstaid is working, t'em not t'e most dangerous creatures alive as long as y'smart about it."

Jandelir nods his head emphatically.

You say, "Go on t'en, like m'say, ten should be enough."

Jandelir nods his head emphatically.

Jandelir leaves to the northwest.

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COMEDY BREAK
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(The Front Line): Aishia says, "I remclwho."
(the Front Line): Aishia says, "Potato."
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Jandelir arrives from the northeast.

Jandelir drags two hands of corpses behind him, carefully bound together so that he can better leverage their weight. Stopping before Azzello, he stoops to cut the tether.

The corners of your mouth turn up as you grin mischievously.

You say, "Very good, tell me 'bout t'e hunt."

Azzello drops the corpses in a pile on the ground and pulling a knife from his pouch, he squats down and begins cutting into them.

Jandelir says, "The force of their blows was bearable, though they will paralyze and make you bleed. Balancing my mana with clotting and unlocking my limbs became a greater challenge."

Jandelir says, "I do not understand why the dwarves continue to work with the vampires only a few paces away, interspersed throughout their mines. Are gems really so important that you would not first deal with them? Why not at least shore up the wall and lay traps where they emerge from?"

Azzello continues his dissections, the occasional squirt of blood and other matter seems to not distract him as he pulls choice pieces of bones, teeth, eyes and the such and setting them to the side in a pile, "Some are not as strong as us. Desire can be quite a monkey on ones back. Tell m'bout how y'deal wit' t'e extra drain on mana."

Jandelir mutters an apology and pops a few pistachios into his mouth, his color improving with the bit of food.

Jandelir speaks between chews and crunches. "Moss, though I can see that that will be a continual drain of gold with how easy it is to go through, and it sticks between your teeth. Mana elixirs."

Azzello stops cutting, his eyes scanning over the collection of body parts which he carefully pulls into a cloth and ties it off, hanging from the waist of his loincloth. He then stands, collecting the refuse of the carcasses, "Y'might consider some lessons in Philosophy, help y'manage t'at a little easier. Moss t'ough, it is necessary, and cheap enough."

You say, "Take me to Dendara."

Jandelir says, "Should I prioritize Philosophy over Shamanism? There are so many skills to spread my lessons between."

You say, "We can talk 'bout t'at later, t'e spirits call."

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Meanwhile, he takes Azzello to Dendara
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Jandelir follows you to the south.

Before a weathered altar of stone.
A massive altar of weathered stone dominates the ruins of the temple here, a bone dagger resting atop the slab. The massive form of Govon towers before you, its head bowed.

Azzello circles the altar a few times letting a gnarled hand run lovingly over its surface, he then places the refuse of the corpses on the smooth surface. He holds his staff over the pile and a small flame seems to drip from its tip to the middle of the carcasses, igniting them instantly and releasing a foul smoke into the air carrying a horrid odor.

You say, "M'people...t'ey are a wanderin' people."

You say, "T'ey are a people who care for not'in' save t'e eart' and her children."

Azzello removes a small pile of stones from his pouch and throws them forcefully at the ground, he then squats down and motions for Jandelir to join him.

Jandelir stares fixedly at the altar and its offering, seemingly unperturbed with the smell and smoke. It takes him a moment to realize he had been beckoned to, before his body takes to motion and he moves to stand near you.

You say, "M'people spent our lives, and generations before communin' wit' her, wit' nature."

You say, "Y'have taken y'oat's no?"

Jandelir says, "I have spoken with Govon but I have not shared my blood with the rest yet. I want to be sure I have something worth offering first."

Jandelir looks down to his unmarked palms for a few moments. "A man's pledge, not a child's. I have still been little more than a novice and that is not an oath I would have confidence in."

Jandelir says, "If I would not have confidence in it, I cannot ask anyone, or anything else, to have it."

Azzello grins widely, "Honesty is good little Shaman." he glances back down to the configuration of the stones, "Go forward, speak wit' t'em, come back here before t'e flame wit'ers and dies. T'ey grow restless wit' you. M't'ink t'ere be more ta you t'en ya say."

Jandelir draws a breath and holds it for a moment, its release slow and measured. He nods, and grabs the dagger from the altar before turning back into the valley.

Jandelir takes a curved dagger of bone from a massive altar of weathered stone.

Jandelir leaves to the north.

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A little bit later
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Jandelir arrives from the north.

Jandelir slowly approaches the altar, setting the blood-slicked dagger back atop its surface. His hands are stained red, and staff smeared with rust from where he had carried it. "It is done." He simply states, jaw set and a different, new? Certainly more determined glint in his eye.

Jandelir ceases to wield a curved dagger of bone in his left hand.

Jandelir drops a curved dagger of bone.

Azzello glances back down to the newly configured stones and a satisfied smile crosses his face, he gathers the stones up as the fire gives one last surge before smoldering out, putting the stones back into his pouch he stands and looks Jandelir in the eyes, "Y'done good, t'e spirits are calm, t'ey are pleased."

Jandelir's gaze drifts to the fire and stones, though he absently nods, thumbs running over the scabbed-over, clotted ridges that now mark his palms.

Azzello thrusts his staff into the ground once more with a louder thunder of authority and proclaims, "From t'e power given me by Dendara and t'e Shamans as Spirit Guide, I call you Disciple. Y'took t'e first steps, but t'ere is much more ta come."

You bestow your guildfavour on Beyam Jandelir Sivid.

(Shamans): You say, "T'e spirits have approved, Dendara has sung, congratulations to Jandelir for bein' accepted as a Disciple."

You say, "Work hard little Shaman, keep the oat's close t'ya heart. Know I am here if ya need me."

Jandelir nds his head emphatically.

You say, "Y'free ta go. I will come ta you again when t'e spirits call y'name."

THE END

DidiKendriXeniaHabbashBakhtuh

Comments

  • Definitely like the approach better than the traditional style interview. Nice work, looked like fun.
  • I want to make each novices run through blooding unique, when they are older and talking about it with another shaman, I want their stories to be different.
    Kendri
  • AishiaAishia Queen Bee
    Makes me feel lazy, I usually just use guild inventory/score/skills to check their reqs then blurt out a couple quick questions and interrogatives.
  • Man, this was such a fun log to read and I really enjoyed getting a sense of the Shaman guild and seeing how the character viewed their place in the world. Great stuff!

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