Player Information
- Character Name: Shimmer
- Current Level: 1
Downtime Tracking
- Date: 4-7 Desnus, 4725
- DT Tokens Available: 7
- DT Tokens Used: 4
- AT Tokens Available: 0
- AT Tokens Used: 0
Downtime Activity
- Activity Name: Training
- Activity Type: Training
- Activity Duration: 4 days
- Expected Outcome: Gain 1000 experience
- Location: A Few Miles East of Absalom
Daily Housing & Upkeep
- Housing Type: Wilderness
- Upkeep Cost: 0
Resource Management
- Goods Used: 0
- Influence Used: 0
- Labor Used: 0
- Magic Used: 0
- Total GP Value: 0
- Funds Remaining: 15g
Narrative Entry
Tack, tack, tack. The sounds of steel stiletto heels upon the hard wood of a ship's deck, and then upon the pier. Shimmering violet eyes darted through the crowd behind amethyst lenses, detached from everything.
An Osiriani woman drifted through the throngs of Absalom, her linen clothing billowing as sea-salt air kissed her dark skin. She somehow avoided touching anyone - dancing practically. Burdened only by the weight of her own terrors and the bulk of her worldly possessions contained in a single backpack - the dregs of a bolt of cloth on a short distaff jutting from beneath a secured flap while an assortment of smaller bundles jostle around inside.
The woman had a purpose - to get out of the city and into the wilderness as soon as possible. Not sure what her own criteria was, she nonetheless knew that the right spot would be known to her when she got there.
Surely enough, she found what she was after: a small hill on the eastern side of the city, near a pile of rubble that was once a siege engine of some variety or another, which she figured she could salvage for materials over time.
She stripped then, tucking her clothing into her backpack and setting it a few dozen feet away - safely outside of range of any backlash. She focused, turning her thoughts to the feeling of wind blowing across her skin, the sun heating her short, raven-black hair, the feeling of dirt, grass, and stone beneath her bare feet. And then she spoke: carefully pronouncing words not meant for any mortal's tongue; words that could shift the very nature of reality itself. Words that could very easily kill if misused.
The words she wielded tore at her, scraping her throat raw and rattling her very being, tugging at her very soul with indignant fury. But she was created for this. Groomed for it. Even if she couldn't escape the effort unscathed, she pit her will against that of reality itself.
Only small changes for now - or crude ones, at least. The first of which was a small tunnel - a simple entryway large enough for her to pass a few feet into the hill. Then, she seized hold of the stone itself, molding it - sculpting it into a claustrophobic room, five feet square. This one fought back more violently, and though she couldn't feel anything past the agony already wracking her body, the metallic smell of blood and tacky warmth running down her chest told her that something had ruptured.
She took a few moments to regather herself then, her body screaming with something like fatigue; her limbs drooping as she tried to staunch her bleeding nose, trying not to think about the bloodstained specks of amethyst forming in the crimson streaks down her body. One last use before she could rest.
She gathered the fabric from her backpack then, laying it out. Then, over the next few hours, she set about gathering large armfuls of long grass, mowing it with a whisper and piling it all together at her in-progress lodging. One final push and she could rest.
This one was more complicated - but still simple. Nothing more than a mattress for herself - a sheathe of linen stuffed with dried grass. By now, she was well and truly exhausted, allowing herself to collapse forward onto her new furnishing and rest until some semblance of strength returned to her limbs.
An hour passed, and the sun was starting to creep low towards the horizon. She still had a few hours of golden light to work in, and dragged her mattress into the newly-formed cavern, placing it against the wall to sleep away her fatigue through the night.
When she was awoken by daylight shining into her little hole, she crawled out to begin the process again, though on a smaller scale. She expanded the room for herself, railing against the aggressively-stubborn stone as she carved a pair of good-sized cubes out of the stone before collapsing back onto her mattress to recover for the night, practicing her enunciation until she passed out.
The next two days were more of the same - little alterations to her dwelling in between trips to the pile of rubble topside, hauling rocks into her hole to shape them into something not entirely unlike shelving: assorted little cubbies that she could use to arrange and organize her meager belongings. An effort to turn that hole in the ground into something not entirely unlike a home - its ultimate form being a ten-by-fifteen-foot room of empty space beneath a hill, the floor lined with a crude rug of soft grass and the walls lined with shelves consisting of either little alcoves or stone brackets with wooden planks laid across them.
At some point, she realized that she should probably be hungry, but by this point in her life, she had long gotten used to the concept of normal food not sustaining her. She had no idea what sustained her now, knowing only that her hunger had apparently called her to this place, and that if she focused, she could feel something tugging gently at her, coaxing her to someplace in the Precipice Quarter. Something to explore once she was confident enough in her abilities to survive amongst the undead swarming the place.
