You picked up the gun and were about to toss it to L4 Blythe, when you realized something.
Percival is performing the same kind pose the underground noita did. But the other way around. The other direction. You remember that noita requested their assistant to help make whatever happened... happen.
Either way you would not to ignore an L4's directions, however implicit they may be.
Raising your arms, you make that communion with this shaman.
“O Vel<span class="mu-i">la</span>mo, <span class="mu-i">brew</span>er <span class="mu-i">o’</span> storms,
Churning, <span class="mu-i">rol</span>ling <span class="mu-i">on,</span> thun<span class="mu-i">der</span> roars.
Your rain <span class="mu-i">pours</span> yet <span class="mu-i">‘pon</span> fer<span class="mu-i">tile</span> land.
Naught re<span class="mu-i">mains</span> in <span class="mu-i">vile</span>, ter<span class="mu-i">mite</span> hands.”
And, together, you rock your hands clockwise.
And as the clock turns forward, something strange happens. The next puff of your cigar is… totally healing. It feels like your head is clear of a ringing you never even realized you had. Every muscle, every fiber, you feel it, how it pulls and twists to your will. Your mind, body, and soul. It all becomes… articulate. You feel sharpness. Keenness. Supplicity. You feel it all, from the tip of your tongue to the grooves of your fingertips.
You feel alive.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=g0PsTVTHn-o<span class="mu-g"><span class="mu-s">DICE HAVE BEEN INCREASED ONE STEP.</span>
FOR THE DURATION OF THIS ENCOUNTER, YOU WILL NOT ROLL D6 AND SUCCEED ON 5 AND 6; YOU WILL ROLL <span class="mu-i">D8</span> AND SUCCEED ON <span class="mu-i">6, 7, 8.</span></span>
