TDM #1

[aionmods]

TDM #1

DREAMING

At first, there is nothing. You are nothing. Whatever existed before ceases to be if for a moment. Then, bit by bit, you start to become aware. Where there was not even darkness now is a dim haze, gentle and almost mist-like. You have limbs again and beneath your feet lays a path of light reaching out like limbs of a great tree beneath you, twisting and climbing out into the horizon.

You take a step forward for what else is there to do? As you walk you begin to remember what it was you were doing before the nothingness; maybe something as simple as chatting with a loved one or close friend. Maybe you were just beginning a great journey or facing off against an old foe. Whatever it was, you get the distinct feeling that wherever and whenever that was, it is not here. Not now.

The path of light twists off into different directions. When you look up you can see that it is not a sky above you but the sky of everything, a grand cosmic tapestry littered with not mere stars but galaxies and clusters of galaxies that gleam like crystals against the velvety backdrop of space. Admire it for a moment, if you will. You don't know how long you will drift here, but you are not alone. Other wanderers will come and go as you bask together in the vastness of creation.

It seems to you that there are two paths to walk in this place, the light and dark beckoning in turn.

❖ THE LIGHT AT THE CENTER
One leads you to the center, splintered fragments folding together and colliding until only one thing remains: a light that speaks to you with the voice of all there is and has ever been. It greets you simultaneously as an old friend and as a lost child, both rejoicing in and mourning your arrival. You remember it too, somehow, with a feeling of complex nostalgia, as if returning to a place recalled from your distant childhood.

You’ll feel the same of the other wanderers that join you in the light; you know their faces, their voices, and as you reflect upon the world of your birth, you may witness fragments of theirs as well. You feel a comradery, then, a synchronicity of thought and emotion. Are the lives of others truly so different from your own? Or are you simply two hands of the same, greater being? Though some individualistic part of you may resist, the longer you spend in the light, the more you will find yourself becoming one with it.

Despite this welcoming call, no matter how eagerly your pursue its embrace, before you can fully submerge yourself in this oneness you will find yourself being torn away. As if seized by the impossibly long, cold arm of a creature unseen, you are plucked from the edge of fulfillment. The last thing you will remember is the sensation of your world, and all the others your experienced here, collapsing into nothingness.

❖ THE DARK OUTSIDE (CW: deep despair, ego death)
The other leads towards the outside, where the splintering becomes so great that the vestiges of reality can do nothing but collapse back into the abyss at the end of everything. As you wander to these barren outskirts, your thoughts will not be drawn to familiarity and oneness, but instead to memories of discontent and waste. The darker the path becomes, the more you find yourself dwelling on life’s disappointments and injustices, of the things about yourself and your world you find wanting.

If you see others here, at first they will feel frightening or contemptible, as if representing to you the worst experiences in your life. Even if they are someone you’re certain you know, that familiarity and affection will be stripped away in the face of the great emptiness before you. In the end, you were all the same. In the end, none of this was worth it. If you approach the end together, you may even form a kind of kinship around this acknowledgment, as the need for paranoia and hatred fades.

Slowly, the darkness encroaches, and you can see it devouring all the things you once knew. Memories of your home, of those you loved, dissolve into nothing, and you can only reflect on the barren emptiness in your heart as you see it happen. In your final moments, though, you feel peace with it all, knowing that there was no other way. You step from the edge of the last dwindling fragment of being and are greeted by silence.

❖ THE END
No matter which way you go, you are left with a single impression: you feel the world you came from die. It's a realization that transcends logic or sense; it weighs on your heart and leaves the vestiges of dark memories dancing in your thoughts like motes of ash. It's a memory of your home crumbling away into nothing as if consumed from within by rot. Returned to the void, all that's left to you is to be reborn.

REBIRTH

In a new time and place, you awaken. Stirring within a capsule of warmth and isolation your senses will slowly return, only to observe that you are trapped. Your body, as it wakes, is tangled in close, yours eyes unable to open, as if still within the womb. You are held tight in the embrace of something unyielding, so smothering that at first you only have the strength to struggle for moments at a time. Yet, as you persist, the pressure begins to relent in turn; it may take hours, but eventually you will find the purchase to push, to claw, to fight, and it will all give way.

The chrysalis surrounding you bends like flesh and cracks like glass. It tears as you force your fingers through, finding liberation one inch at a time, until finally you have emerged. As if having undergone metamorphosis, you feel old and new all at once. You are weak, piteously so, but the markings and scars of your previous life remain. As you slump down upon the smooth cavern stone, you realize that you've just wrenched yourself free of gigantic crystal, though its hollow, shimmering form is now in pieces on account of your passing. Somewhere on your body, a shard of similar material remains embedded.

The cave itself looks almost like the inside of a geode, the walls and ceiling bedazzled with greyish crystal that shines with all the colors of the rainbow. While they vary wildly in size and shape, only a few have grown large enough to hold a form like yours, and you can see the one you just escaped isn't the only one bearing a passenger within. They may have already hatched, or they may still be lingering in stasis. Either way, there's enough time that you may have a chance to speak to yours unexpected peers, or to perhaps to struggle to find something to cover your naked body with. You feel the chill of the open air against your moisture laden skin, a distant light trickling in through the cavern's opening.

Make the most of this time. It won't be long before you're interrupted.

[Mod Note: If you don't want to deal with your character being naked in front of the others at that location, feel free to assume they emerge at a different time than the others of their legacy. Characters will be 'hatching' over a period of several hours.]

CAPTIVITY

It seems that someone was waiting for you to arrive, and not in the most friendly of ways. Though the specifics of who comes to get you will vary according to which legacy shrine your character awakens at, there are certain commonalities: most notably, how they are ostensibly here to capture and imprison you. It's easy for them, all considered. You can barely stand, so fresh out of your chrysalis, and whatever powers or special abilities you may have had will not answer your call. Even worse, your would be captors are well equipped for the job.

Each group arrives with several 'whips' made of unknown materials. What makes them so special only become obvious when one of them inevitable snakes its way around your body. Whether it be your ankle or your neck, being bound by these cords puts you under the influence of whoever is holding the other end of your leash. Your mind remains untouched, but you will find yourself physically incapable of performing physical actions that go against their will. While the possibilities are frightening, thankfully they all just seem to want one thing: for you to come along as a good little prisoner and to not cause any of them too much trouble.

The rest depends on your character's legacy:

❖ THE LOVER
The small island the shrine is built upon is approached by several modest boats with colorful sails. They carry what appears to be a collection of fearful fisherfolk and town guards. They are reluctant to speak with those being pulled out of the shrine or even look them in the eye. If they have their choice, the entire process will be done in silence. If you try too hard to upset them, the guards will sternly bring you to heel.

❖ THE CELEBRANT
The infrastructure of an entire festival ground seems to be built around this shrine, and as a result, there are an usual amount of people present. While most keep their distance, a few will engage with the local guards that arrive to capture the Aions, complaining that this is going to interfere with their preparations for the upcoming Lover’s Festival. They are pushed aside in short order, and the rest of the retrieval will be done in a stern but business-like manner.

❖ THE MARTYR
At first, those arriving to capture the Aions will be hesitant to even enter the barren crater this shrine is held within. Once the presence of the new arrivals becomes clear, however, they will run in as if crossing the no man’s land of a battlefield and complete their work with gusto. It appears to be mostly military folk and they seem to lack any patience or sympathy for those they capture.

❖ THE SOVEREIGN
The captors here seem to be a mixed bag, almost as if two separate squadrons have arrived at the same time. One is a gathering of people who give off the impression of mountain folk, while the others are well armored soldiers. Though it will be hard to make out the specifics, there seems to be some manner of disagreement between these two parties over what should be done, but the ones kitted out in full military attire win out in the end. By then, they are completely out of patience for further resistance.

❖ THE ARTISAN
The people here seem to have mixed feelings about your arrival. On one hand, it seems to be a moment of considerable trepidation, on the other, they seem unbearably curious about your nature. They will ask questions about any unusual features you have, or what your skills are, while others from the group try just as hard to shush them. Ultimately, they don’t seem that enthusiastic about having to capture you, but they also don’t seem to think they have much choice.

❖ THE INNOCENT
Among rolling hills of flowers, at first it seems as if this shrine may not be visited at all. Before the arriving Aions can escape it, though - naked and weakened as they are - a group of fairly normal looking townsfolk will arrive. They pause as they spot you near the shrine, almost like they are hesitating about coming at all. In the end, they will converge upon you and ask for you to please cooperate. They won’t hurt you, as long as you come with them.

❖ THE SEEKER
Armored soldiers are the ones to first pull you from the shrine, but as you arrive outside of it you'll see that it is situated at the edge of a great forest. An ancient observatory is build into the cliff face behind the shrine, and your captors are apparently in the process of negotiating with a series of robed individuals that have emerged from it. According to them, the soldiers kidnapping you are trespassing. Unfortunately, they are not the ones with weapons.

❖ THE WANDERER
When you first emerge from the shrine, it will appear as if you have just missed a skirmish. There are a few bodies scattered about, all wearing woodland armor made of leather and fur. The victors, it seems, come in the form of fully armored soldiers. Thoroughly irritated by the fight that just happened, they will not waste time on niceties. If you try to ask them what just happened, the best you may get is a sneer about ‘those damn forest people.’ You may spot a couple more bodies on the trail leading out of the forest as well.

❖ THE FIREBRAND
The first thing to be seen beyond the cavern entrance is a sheer drop into a raging canyon river far below you, with only a narrow path leading up the steep cliff face. It would be a difficult situation, even without black-cloaked warriors making their way down it to collect you. Struggle too much and you'll be at risk of being thrown into the chasm. These masked assailants are largely unmoved by your protests and will drag you the entire way up the cliff if you force them to. "Your soul will be claimed," they say.

❖ THE VISIONARY
The view from the mouth of the cavern is awe inspiring, revealing the foreign shapes of a world you've never seen before. Unfortunately, the altitude of this shrine means you will also be greeted with sharp wind and biting cold. Fortunately, or not, a party of mountaineers and three black-cloaked warriors will arrive to collect you. Despite their seeming inability to defy the orders of the warriors, the mountaineers will toss you some shoes and blankets for the trek down, even if they are taken away from you later. If the warriors speak at all, it's mostly in the form of ominous utterances.

❖ THE CHAMPION
Even if one were to stagger out of the shrine's cavern before being approached, the Aions arriving here will swiftly find themselves in a hopeless situation. Not only are there soldiers here to collect there is a moderately sized military barracks built around the shrine itself, and this particular squadron is not on your side. You will be swarmed before you can get far at all. There seems to be a mix of two squadrons here, some wearing heavy armor and red accents, while the others wear full face masks and dark cloaks.

Once you've been captured and pulled from the shrine, you will given a formless white gown made of moderately comfortable fabric, with sleeves reaching your elbows and its bottom reaching down past your knees. You will not be given pants or shoes. You're in for a journey, apparently - no matter who plucked you from the cave, most of the heavily armored soldiers in the prompts above will turn out to be 'Hylician soldiers', while the smaller number of black-robed warriors are referred to 'Achamites'. After the initial dealings with the shrines, all prisoners will be passed off to a squadron of Hylicians, though a few Achamites may follow along depending on the location.

Where are you all going? Back to Hylici, apparently.

WAITING

After you've been handed off to the the Hylician military, you have a long road ahead of you. Loaded up onto carts, and then eventually onto river borne boats, the people collected at the shrines will all be brought to a forest in the center of Horos. Along the way, the squadron ferrying you will combine with others from neighboring shrines, more and more captives arriving in your group the closer to your destination you get.

Along the way you will be fed and watered well enough (though only with military rations), and at night you will be given flimsy bedrolls to sleep around the fire with. Captives will be under constant watch by the Hylician guard, and anyone who shows any signs of resistance will be required to be bound by one of those magic whips, usually around the ankle or wrist. The rest of the trip is spent being pulled along in carts or the storage bays of boats. After the groups start converging, captives of the same legacy will not necessarily be kept together.

The final muster point of the Hylicians and their captives will be among forest ruins. For what purpose you have arrived they will not say, but the entire group will be camping there until preparations are complete. Sadly, you won't be allowed much space to explore - not without being bound and under watch. If you've behaved yourself it's possible to move about the central ruins, but only if the guards are confident they'll be able to wrangle you when necessary. It does allow for moderately private conversations along the pillars and walls of the ruins, but venturing out into the forest itself is definitely out of the question.

From beginning to end, characters will spent about two weeks in transit and waiting in the ruins. To what end is yet to be seen, but if you listen closely, you may hear whispers of a 'ritual space' being prepared.

QUESTIONS

Are everyone's homeworlds really gone?
That's a complicated issue, and while the fate of their world is not without hope, they may certainly get the impression its been destroyed from the dream they had. Alternatively, they may refuse to believe what they felt and attempt to dismiss it as only a vision. More about this situation will be revealed as the game goes on.

Can I only experience one end of the dream sequence prompt?
Characters may experience one ending, both endings, or neither. If they experience both they will struggle to recall which came first or which feels the most 'true' to them, as both will simultaneously be the thought they are reborn with. If your character refuses to pursue either path they can simply linger in the middle until the infinite worlds above them start being extinguished one by one, eventually expelling them into darkness in a similar style to the light prompt. Which dreams they experience will not dictate their intial sect affiliation.

Is it possible to pull another character back from the end of the light or darkness dreams?
Yes! If your character is able to resist the pull of either end, they will have the chance to try to pull another character back from the edge of the abyss or the edge of oneness. Whether or not they succeed is entirely up to the other character, though.

Do you come out of the chrysalis wet?
For most intents and purposes it's the same experience as hatching out of a real butterfly chrysalis, so yes, a bit.

Can my character resist the influence of the whips?
Those possessed of particularly strong wills may be able to struggle with the whip's control in brief spurts, but not long enough to make a full escape attempt. They may be able to take an impotent swing at one of the guards or fight against being pulled along, though. Naturally, doing this will indicate to the Hylicians that you are a problem, and their handling of you will become harsher the more it occurs.

How cruel will the Hylicians be to the player characters?
The Hylician military are not friendly people and come across as being a bit callous even at the best of times. However, unless you provoke them, they will be primarily focused on just getting the job done with as few interruption as possible. If your character makes a habit of pissing them off, either by constantly fighting back or just by being persistently obnoxious, their treatment will get worse. If driven to it, they may take the opportunity to take out their frustrations on particularly troublesome prisoners, via physical punishment, humiliation, or deprivation.

Comments

gabranth || final fantasy xii || the martyr

[judicatus]

i. dreaming

[ when the last of his vision fades to dark, so too does the world around him fade to nothing, leaving only the ache of his battered, broken body — an ache that gradually descends into cold, colder still, leaving no comfort in its wake save that of oblivion.

but this oblivion does not lead unto eternity. though his senses remain dulled, blunted by what should have been a sure death, gabranth yet sees a light before him, and a path he cannot help but follow.

home, says the feeling newly burgeoning within his breast. home is here, it cries in desperation. only one place has ever been home to gabranth — to the man once known as noah fon ronsenburg — and it burned so, so long ago. but the scent carried on a sudden breeze is unmistakeable, as is the rustle of unseen leaves; if he stretches out his hand, he feels as though he might grasp something of his homeland. ]

Where... [ but is that the question he truly wants to ask? ] Why?

[ why, he asks of no one and nothing in particular. nothing save the light before him, or perhaps another at his side. ]

ii. rebirth

[ though gabranth's body is slow to wake, all at once does the sensation come crashing down upon him: the overwhelming crush of his surroundings, blinding and overwhelming him in turn. this cannot be the embrace of death, he realizes; it would not cling so tightly.

he fights, and he struggles, and he perseveres — and ultimately he wins free, punching through the outer shell and tearing it apart until he has enough purchase to pull himself from the chrysalis. he gasps for air, his lungs burning from the effort, and stumbles forward to collapse upon the cavern floor. his limbs shake from an exertion he hasn't known in many long years; he can scarcely catch his breath before he lifts his head to better look at his surroundings.

crystal, in such multitudes that he cannot help but wonder if he hasn't ended up in the afterlife after all; crystals of all shapes and sizes, some broken and glistening, others with shadowy shapes moving inside them. after a moment of stunned, gawping silence, he looks down at himself, to check for any evidence of vayne's assault — to check for the evidence that he had been killed — and while he does find a number of scars that were most certainly not there before, he also finds something rather more surprising than that.

gabranth raises a still-trembling hand to the crystal now embedded in the dead center of his chest — just where he'd been struck by one of vayne's many magicked blades. had it left something of itself behind in his flesh? had the blow been so strong as to send him elsewhere, far from the sky fortress' reach? what is happening? why is any of this happening?

though his legs still shake, gabranth slowly, steadily pushes himself up to his feet, leaning on another crystal formation for support as he goes. a cold draft suddenly bites at his damp flesh, and only then does he realize his nakedness — but he can't let himself be preoccupied by such a thing, not when there are too many questions burning inside him. he needs to find someone who knows what's going on, and he needs to do so as quickly as possible. ]

iii. waiting

[ it hasn't been easy, biding his time for so long as a prisoner in captivity, and that difficulty is evident in the purple bloom of healing bruises up the side of gabranth's face and along his jaw. still, all the better if his guards are lulled into thinking he's learned his lesson...for now.

he's careful in his exploration of the ruins, never straying suspiciously far out of sight as he gradually commits the space to memory; he marks well each pillar, each crumbling structure and the lines of sight they block, to what little he can glean of the woods surrounding them, to which path might afford the least obstruction on a blind run. he's careful — but he can't afford to be too careful, as he learns when he hears of a ritual space and can only wonder what might follow after.

so he bides his time, and keeps a keen eye and ear out for any potential allies. he waits by one of the ruin walls, leaning back against the weathered stone, eyes closed as though he might be napping, and waits for one of his fellow captives to draw near. ]

We haven't much time remaining, it would seem.

iv. wildcard

( got an idea for something else? feel free to hit me up at futuristics so we can chat about it! )

iii

[semicharmed]

[ It's okay that their captors are on the taciturn end. Matt needs the time to think. His existential dread spirals in reticulating layers, each new realization washing over him and ossifying onto the one before it like a--

Well--

Not unlike a crystal.

He remembers a dream that felt like communion, being one with the heart of all things, and he remembers a dream about fangs sinking into his throat. Then there was an island, and boats with sails like the wings of bright birds. Come to think, the lonely dream may have been the real one, because when he "woke up," term used loosely, there was a shard of crystal embedded in the side of his neck. The left side: V's favorite.

When he finds himself addressed, Matt starts, as if shocked from a train of thought. Which he was--at the moment, it's why did I survive when everyone else is dead. He'd thought he'd found a lonely little section of the stone formation to come and have a crisis, but clearly his observational skills need some work. He frowns at his companion, first in curiosity and then, noting the bruises on his face, in pained sympathy.

Cautiously, quietly, he says: ]

Are they going to kill us?

[ Matt's heard the talk of a ritual space too. In this context, it cannot possibly mean anything good. ]

[judicatus]

[ gabranth opens his eyes once he hears a response, though he pauses, humming thoughtfully, before he responds in kind. ]

Seems equally likely as not. [ despite the grim acknowledgment, he keeps his voice low, his tone casual. ] Consider that we’ve been fed and clothed but the barest minimum to survive thus far, and it seems apparent that our captors have no deep investment in our continued survival.

[ another pause follows, and his brows furrow as he continues: ]

But consider also the sheer numbers of our population. [ numbers enough to provide meaningful resistance against their captors, he should think, but without any way to coordinate such resistance... well. that’s something he can dwell upon later. ] Should this ritual they’re preparing call for our sacrifice, then I would imagine they mean to spill the blood of each and every one of us... And yet, while I must profess no familiarity with such blood magicks, the practicality of such an operation eludes me.

[ then again, practitioners of such arts rarely seem to concern themselves with practicality. still, he can’t help but think that, if they’re truly meant to be sacrificed en masse, there must be a more efficient way of going about it. ]

[semicharmed]

[ Honestly, as soon as the other man started talking, Matt realized perhaps the most damning tell of all: they are both wearing identical white robes. Sure, the other guy fills his out better than Matt does, but that's immaterial. The point is that they are definitely, one hundred percent, about to get thrown into a volcano.

The feeling of realization is so sudden and complete that it almost feels good, despite its utterly depressing nature. Matt even manages a brief, damp brightening at the mention of magic. It's quick to fade--he's tried to cast spells since arriving here, and none of them have worked. ]

Some cosmologies where I come from-- [ Came from? ] --hold that the universe is fueled by blood. If things get bad enough, it might be reasonable to make, you know, an outsize number of sacrifices.

[ He huffs a sigh, slumping against the stone edifice. ]

[judicatus]

[ gabranth snorts at that, and lets his head tip back against the stone, his gaze turning toward the still-unfamiliar sky. ]

And every life upon each of the worlds we've lost is not enough to slake their thirst? [ for he's gleaned well enough, from the conversations amidst his fellow captives, that the certainty of what he sensed — the end of his world — was not unique to him alone. ] Surely our number must pale in comparison. A mere drop in a veritable ocean of blood.

[ it doesn't bear dwelling upon, not until they have more information — and for that, he needs allies.

he tilts his head once more, looking over at his new companion. ]

What is your name?

[semicharmed]

I don't know if planet-scale calamities count as ritual, [ Matt murmurs, dry. ] Or at least, I don't know if they count as ritual bloodletting.

[ The thought passes through his mind: Katy-Rose must be gone too. It feels like a message in sky-writing, thousands on thousands of feet overhead and impossible to wrap himself around. His left hand scuds over his cheek, where a hairline scar arcs; the gesture seems well-worn, one of those tics you don't realize you do all the time. ]

I'm Matt. [ A faint smile. ] Enjoy it while it lasts, I guess. What's yours?

[judicatus]

[ again, a momentary pause. ]

Gabranth.

[ reclaim it, he'd once been told of the name that was no longer his to bear. but what purpose does reclaiming that identity serve now, in a world where it holds no meaning? what purpose could it serve now that his own world is dead?

he brushes it aside, of course. perhaps someday he will find the time to mourn, but that time is not now. ]

Well met. [ he'd offer a hand of greeting, but the gesture might just be enough to draw undue attention towards them both. ] You know aught of rituals, do you?

[ there's barely a question in it; the man's words imply, at least in his own mind, that he has some familiarity with the subject. more familiarity than gabranth has himself, for certain. ]

What manner of preparation is required for a ritual of such scale, do you think? Beyond what we've seen so far.

[semicharmed]

Gabranth, [ Matt repeats. Despite his dim outlook on their odds of surviving long enough for it to matter, he can't help finding it an interesting name. The feel on his tongue is like an herb he'd use in a spell for protection, or possibly safe travels. He files that away to mull on later, focusing for now on the question. ] Well ... if their rituals are anything like any of the ones I'm familiar with ...

They'd need to take us to a significant site, which could be this place for all I know. They might be waiting for an auspicious time? But the word I've heard them use is space, so that might indicate more the former than the latter. After that ...

Some gods want their sacrifices to be killed by specific symbolic means. I know some of them like hanging, drowning, fire. And I don't think any of that would be terribly difficult for them to do, logistically speaking. Given that they have those--

[ He gestures with one hand to encircle his opposite wrist. ]

[judicatus]

Mm, [ gabranth hums thoughtfully, his lips pursing into a frown. ] Whichever god we're meant to please, he must be an exacting one indeed.

[ that's as close to a joke as he's ever going to get, regarding their current circumstances. ]

That such preparations must be made... 'Twould seem to indicate that a more elaborate method of execution is preferable to aught that can be managed in the here and now. [ and then, a scowl— ] No matter how...simple an effort it may be for them to cow any one of us.

[ unconsciously, he mirrors the gesture matt had just made — though his hand goes to his neck instead, idly rubbing at a spot of raw flesh. he hasn't been snared quite so many times as to leave a significant mark, but it wouldn't take much more provocation from him for that to change. ]

[semicharmed]

[ Joke-adjacent gallows humor is good enough for Matt: his lips twitch mordantly. ]

A real stickler, yeah.

[ But his expression softens as he follows the path of Gabranth's hand. Matt's been too poleaxed to put up much resistance to their captors, locked in the mandala of his mind more effectively than he could be in any of their snares. But between Gabranth's bruises and that painful-looking spot ... he must have fought. ]

I'm sorry, [ Matt says quietly. ] I wish I could heal you. But the power I had is ...

[ How weird that after everything he's been through, this is what gets his throat closing up. His voice thickening. Matt swallows, reminding himself to breathe. ]

I don't know if it's gone for good. But nothing I've tried here has worked.

[judicatus]

[ the apology, quiet as it is, catches gabranth off-guard, and he turns to him with eyebrows raised. and then...he snorts. ]

Save your apologies for one who needs them. Were I not prepared to bear such wounds, I would not have resisted as I did.

[ really, he expects rather to be scolded for getting hurt like this. scolded, as if... as if those who knew him best were still here, at his side.

he turns his gaze skyward once more. ]

None of us has the same strength as we did ere our summons to this world. Not you, not I... Not a single one of us. [ not that he’s had a chance to survey every single person here, but— ] Otherwise, I should imagine we would have seen some greater effort at resistance right now... Or rather, we would have seen some success.

[semicharmed]

[ Given how miserable Matt looks, you'd think that scoff would get him wilting. But the other man's abrasiveness shocks him away from his dismal mood, bracing as a stiff salt breeze. If anything was going to make Matt cry right now, it'd be kindness. ]

That makes sense, [ he muses, soft. His gaze wanders from one end of the camp to the other, passing over white-clad captives to land eventually back on Gabranth. ] So all we've got is our brains.

What do you know about surviving outdoors?

[judicatus]

[ a curious question, that, and one he's never been asked before. it only follows, of course, that few would expect a judge magister of his standing to have much experience in such a field, and yet... ]

I did receive some informal training in my youth. [ as a boy, hunting with his father and brother in the wilds of landis; as a soldier, making camp in the muddy plains of archadia. ] With what scant supplies we've been given, if we were to...hypothetically be turned loose into the surrounding wood, I should expect to survive for at least one night. Perhaps two, at a stretch.

[ hypothetically, of course, because even the hypothetical notion of escape doesn't bear tempting by speaking it aloud. ]

Of course, we know naught of what dangers may lurk within... And without any manner of weaponry, I should expect any chance at survival to grow drastically slim.

[semicharmed]

[ Matt deflates slightly. He was hoping that a guy as competent (and built) as Gabranth seems to be would be like, naturally adept at all the manly nature stuff Matt has never cared for. But it seems like no dice. Besides which, he raises some good points about the odds of surviving out there. ]

And I haven't been keeping good track of how far we've come, [ Matt realizes, hand scrubbing over his scarred left cheek again. ] I was ... I guess in shock, at first.

Wait, "in your youth"? [ he non-sequiturs. His eyebrows arch. ] How old are you?