Quoted By:
Though ‘whisked away’ might be too polite a term for what you’re treated to! Beginning with a sensation akin to being chucked out of an airplane window mid-cruise, all you can do is try your damndest not to scream as you’re suddenly and violently buffeted around like a pinball in a giant clothes dryer!
… But you failed.
Unseen energy burns and nips at your body as it’s flung around the aether, and just when you feel stinging walls press into your flesh…
OOF!
They’re gone. A weary groan leaves your lips as you carefully begin to extract yourself from the failed ‘human’ pyramid, your back bumping against some unfamiliar masonry as you do!
The air is cooler–the brick floor slightly moist, but not enough to dampen your robes… and just a stone’s-throw away you hear the increasingly-familiar hustle-and-bustle of the Umberal streets: loud, hasty conversations, the creak and hiss of unknown vehicles…
“Ah. We’re alive.” Flinging his favorite fuzzball off of his chest and into what sounds like a dumpster, Oti rises to his feet with an approving nod. “And free, it would seem.”
H-he’s surprised by that!? He had it under control, didn’t he? The Chytree shrugs as Obber scurries off to tend to his sister.
“I don’t relish admitting it, but our means of egress was not what I had planned,” He explains with a dull click. “Simply put, the untimely arrival of those Constructs forced me to… <span class="mu-i">improvise</span>.”
The word hits your chest like a javelin… and stays there. O-Oti, you begin as horror creeps into your voice, are… is he <span class="mu-i">okay?</span>
“So it would seem,” He replies, not bothering to respond to the other 3/4ths of the question, “Teleportation should never be performed recklessly–even the simplest of sorcerers know that–but I don’t detect any side-effects…” The mage pauses. “... though I’ll admit the persistent magical contamination in Umberal’s air makes the task difficult.”
That’s… that’s good, you reply, a relieved sigh leaving your lips as you itch a persistent tingle on your neck! Coulda’ been worse, huh?
“To put it <span class="mu-i">mildly!</span>” Chirps Toppel as she tumbles out of whatever grody-smelling garbage depository she was kicked into!
“I recall a classmate of mine back in my early Academy days… mumbled one of the middle incantations and ended up across the practice annex with her teeth grafted to her eyes!” The Durher pauses with a wistful sigh. “Obber still hit on her too after that, didn’t you, you shameless degenerate?”
Makaar are hard to read even in the best of circumstances, but you get the feeling the sound her brother makes is akin to them saying ‘ha ha… what can I say?’ You, meanwhile, reply with an uneasy chortle as the itch spreads to your torso. T-that’d be terrible!
>CONTD.
