!EabccEYuUs 07/07/11(Thu)01:14 No.15499478|
File1310015683.jpg-(1.32 MB, 1500x2305, CT1207_33.jpg)
"The winds, the winds! Do you need to dry your laundering so badly, champion?" the raven mocks, fluttering down and alighting on the slave's shoulder.
You start to lose your patience and you sternly request for more accurate means of reading and manipulating the winds of magic.
"I thought you needed wind, not a book, champion..." the raven laughs, hoping from the shoulder to the slave's hand, which for some reason the elf had already outstretched in anticipation.
You strain and ask again, more politely. You suffer the raven for as long as you have to.
"My, you really mean it, don't you?" he cocks his head to the side, grinning wryly, and you nod emphathically.
"Very well..." the raven nods. He jumps on to the slave's head and pecks at the sigil, and instantly the slave begins to shiver, blue tendrils starting to appear on her skin. Eight glowing paths seem to appear under her skin, and runes start to glow softly before fading back into her skin.
"Haha! There! A book, and she can do your laundry as well as fly a kite! Happy reading, chaaaaampion!" The raven caws again, flying off.
The slave looks at you with her hardened gaze, and you stare back.
Stranger and stranger... what now? (2d12 with action. First four rolls considered)