It is a fine day in the Kingdom. Birdsong swims in on the breeze, mingling with the calls of marketworkers and townsfolk outside in the main town. Occasionally a chamberpot is tossed out the window and a series of obscenities bristles in through the window with the other more agreeable sounds.

Freshly baked bread mixed with the scents of horse dung from the carriages stamps the Capitol with it's recognizable fragrance. Despite all these things, though, Jorde was asleep.



"JORDE!" screeched the old withered man as he flung a dusty old thome right into Jorde's peaceful, sleeping face. He awoke with a start. "What do you think you're doing! 7 o clock in the morning and you're already napping on the job! You've barely been here two hours. Go on, off with you, I want you to find a place for this book and re-ward the windows. I can't STAND those smells and sounds in here... this is a library, you know..."

The ancient old man, known to you as Christopherius, waddles off muttering under his breath, his bones audibly groaning as he went.

---

---

A low, guttural growl echoed inside the young magician's mind, followed by what could be described as a scream. "Imbecile mandrils! Your minuscule intellect is unable to fathom the astonoshing greatness of my grand mission! I, Icathul, the World Eater, the Star Demolisher, Bane of All Living Things, Deceiver of the Truth, the Fly in His Soup, the Destroyer of Everything that Exists, the Returning Foe, the Sour Milk and Yeah, This is My Full Name, Puny Mortal, shall not be inconveniencied by such trivial and mundane tasks such as 'Warding the Windows'! Listen to me, you insignificant chimpunk!" he thundered, now talking to Jorde. "You shall direct your pathing decisions and select one of the dark and mystical grimoires hidden inside this vault of knowledge. You can not oppose to my magnificent existance! Now go, you unhygienized dog! Bring forth the destruction of all mankind!

---

Icathul commands Jorde to go find a book of dark magic. Dice roll is here

Also, I'm skipping the description of Jorde.

Jorde winced at the voice that filled his head. Ah yes. him. The World Eater. "Are world's really that delicious to eat? I mean, don't they just taste like rocks and stuff?" Jorde thought to his companion as he dutifully waddled off in search of a good ol' fashoined grimoire. There really was nothing better then curling up with a good book from the forbidden section, he had to agree with Icathul on that one.

Jorde himself was a tall fellow, all lanky limbs and not much meat on him. He kind of had that teenagerish look to him - you know, the look of sheer fear and lack of understanding of what was happening to his body at all times. Except in this case, it applied to both his mind and the world at large. His brunette hair was once quite short - but let's be honest, he hadn't bothered to cut it in so long it was now mid-length, a little birdnesty, and sentient enough it refused to obey the touch of it's mortal enemy, the brush. Black circles surrounded his eyes, telling stories of many sleepless nights staying up late in the library - and oh, many sleepless nights being harassed by the voices in his head.

He couldn't deny they were useful, though. Even Icathul looked out for him, in his own special "I don't want this mortal vessel to die just yet" kind of way. They helped him do difficult things.

A perfect example being the Door to the forbidden section that now stood before him. Christopherius had long since forbidden him from organising the Forbidden section, since the last time Icathul had politedly demanded he go in here. It was Forbidden after all.

"What are you stopping for, you uncivilized swine?" the slightly abusive voice thundered "Oh, I see what your dilemma is. This large wooden contraption is now barring us from entering the unholy abyss that is the Forbidden Section. But such a simple gizmo is unable to stop the great Icathul!"
After a few moments of insane and incoherent cackling, Icathul managed to calm himself down. He cleared his inexistent throat "Now, dim witted baboon, pay heed to my guide of instructioning before operating on this mechanism. If, per chance, you manage to obliterate our chances of infiltrating the paradise behind this ornamented portal, I will personally make sure that such a mistake never happens again." he ominously preached. "You shall hold your left hand- that's your right hand, moronic troglodite. Yes. That one. Now you must hover it right above this wooden contraption's iron appendage. Now grasp it firmly... FIRMLY!!! Finally. Your grasping ability is as great as a dehydrated slug's culinary abilities. Icathul inhaled before bellowing inside of the poor Jorde's mind. "NOW TWIST THE HANDLE!"

---

Action: Open the door without getting lost by Icathul's imprecise guiding.

@UberblutwurstGosh, you can be so rude Mr Icathul. Jorde whimpered in his mind, hastily dropping his right hand as he was berated for lack of understanding about basic directional understanding. He winced as Icathul screamed the instruction to twist the handle, but he did so dutifully and - low and behold - the door was unlocked all along.

Jorde hastily and clumsily slipped through into a darkened room of wall to wall bookshelves. The lighting in here was dim, and many bookshelves were restrained by massive great chains. Occasionally these mysterious bookshelves would growl and jump up and down, THUMP THUMP THUMP, but the enchanted restraints held strong.

A pedastal sat in the middle of the room, with a page pinned to it written in a magical language. Perhaps it would be useful to acquiring a book without exploding or killing oneself in the process.

If interacting with the pedestal or bookshelves: please go here, state the tast and then roll. e.g. Mae: Skill - Eating [1d6]

"Ahhh, such a beautiful location... Icathul commented. "The amicable sound of endless knowledge, hidden deep inside these avatars of wisdom... Alas, I cannot skim through their pages myself as I'm bound to the shallow insides of this unsighful termite's mind. Do me a favor, fleshy stick, and head towards the arquitetonic marvel that is that pedastal. I desire to acquire the information it contains... Jorde, do not dare to inform me that you don't understand this simple language. Argh! Why must I do everything for you, incompetent dachshund? With my boundless linguistic prowess, you should be able to distinguish this scripture!"

---

Action: Read the pinned page.

Athaliah had been enjoying the silence while Jorde was asleep, but unfortunately that silence was quite rudely broken by the old man waking him up. Before she could tell Jorde to just go back to sleep, Icathul beat her to the punch. She waited silently to watch this play out, at least until the decidedly more aggressive spirit had led Jorde into the forbidden section. "Icathul, must you be so loud? It's bad enough in here with the sounds from the street outside, but at least that is bearable compared to your incessant and uselessly thunderous noise." Her voice was calm and slightly clipped, as though she didn't want to spend any more time on a word than was absolutely necessary, and although she spoke at a normal volume, compared to the more boisterous Icathul she seemed quieter than need be.

"Jorde won't understand you any better just because you spoke louder, and intimidating him like that won't make it any easier for him to do what you want him to. That aside, are you trying to get him killed? This is a very dangerous place, even just touching some of these books could irreversibly harm him or ourselves!" She sighed before addressing Jorde directly. "Jorde sweetie, please remember what I've told you before. When doing things with Icathul, at least one of you needs to think before you act."

---

@UberBlutwurst@Mae

"HEY, ICATHUL, YOU DUMB INCOMPETENT NUGGET OF EXCREMENT! DO YOU SERIOUSLY NOT UNDERSTAND HOW STUPID THIS LINE OF ACTION IS!? LAST TIME YOU TRIED THIS, I ENDED UP IN THIS PATHETIC WRECK OF A MEATSUIT. A MEATSUIT SADDLED BY WHAT WAS ALREADY A LARGE NUMBER OF INSOLENT GIBBERING WRECKS OF SPIRITS, DISEMBODIED VOICES, AND WHATEVER ELSE MANNER OF DISEMBODIED SENTIENCES YOU COWARDLY LOT ARE! DO YOU REALLY WANT TO BE STUCK COMPETING WITH EVEN MORE!!!!

I cannot believe I've had to explain this to you." Octavium was not happy with Icathul's decision. He didn't want to have to compete with even more presences. Plus, it was very cramped. Despite the lack of grey matter between Jorde's ears...

"Athaliah, darling," Octavium intones, his voice dripping with thinly disguised venom, "you know that thinking is something neither of them excel at. In actual fact, I think Icathul might just have the more brains. Although that's rather like saying that something is more appetising to eat than a recently used square of lavatory paper. And when I say recently used, I mean used to wipe the residue of really thick droppings. So, sweety, think before you open your mouth...".

Do me a favor, fleshy stick, and head towards the arquitetonic marvel that is that pedastal. I desire to acquire the information it contains..."

Oh, he thought, you mean the one i don't under-

Jorde, do not dare to inform me that you don't understand this simple language.

ok! he stood before the pedestal, shifting uncomfortably from foot to foot.

Argh! Why must I do everything for you, incompetent dachshund? With my boundless linguistic prowess, you should be able to distinguish this scripture!"

"Jorde sweetie, please remember what I've told you before. When doing things with Icathul, at least one of you needs to think before you act." chimed in another voice, and Jorde's heart leaped. Mostly because this was one of the few voices that treated him nicely.

Also he liked being called sweetie.

Hii! Jorde cooed awkwardly, finally getting the courage to complete the task Icathul had set for him. He cast his eyes down and examined the strange writing within.



The magical enchantments protecting the book, combined with the difficulty of using his brain to read words, give Jorde a headache enough to send him into a momentary tizzy.

"I don't believe I was talking to you Octavy~ But you're right in saying that neither of them are very smart. I thought I'd made that clear in my reminding them." Athaliah laughed slightly, though there was rather a dark edge to it than humor. "And, as for how crowded it is here, I'd gladly leave if I were able to. If we knew that we'd all be free once Jorde here dies, who among us wouldn't immediately try to walk the poor idiot off a cliff? It'd certainly be a service to us all if such a way to leave was found."

Just after she finished her spoken thought she heard Jorde's reply to what she'd told him. "Yes yes, hello sweetie." She'd been slightly distracted by Octavium, and so hadn't noticed that Jorde failed to do what Icathul had told him to. Good. She knew it probably wouldn't take, but it was worth a shot to try. What did I just tell you? It's a good thing you weren't able to read that book, it could have hurt us. Now, why don't you go do something relatively safe? like go stare at a wall for a few hours? Or maybe just go back to sleep?

---

@Mae@Doltboy(I just assume that the spirits can hear everything that's said by other spirits and by Jorde, but Jorde can only hear what they want him to)

"Gasp. You meanies would really kill Jorde just to free yourself? That is not very nic....Uhm I mean I know he can be annoying and I've been stuck with him ever since he created me back when he was a child, but he is still my friend." Tookie really didn't like Athaliah, Icathul and Octavium, but she had given on trying to convince Jorde not to listen them.

While not completely aware of what was going on Tookie could tell that her first and unfortunately best friend wasn't feeling too well. "Hey are you okay buddy?

"Hey are you okay buddy?

The thinking hard had made Jorde woozy. He stumbled down from the pedestal, landing on his backside towards the end of the room.

A shadow swung across his face.

Jorde looked over to see the mangled form of Old Wizard Madradius, Head Apothecaire, stuck to the ceiling. A shadowy form dissapeared round some of the bookcases, and the smashing of glass accompanied the sight.

What did I just tell you? It's a good thing you weren't able to read that book, it could have hurt us. Now, why don't you go do something relatively safe? like go stare at a wall for a few hours? Or maybe just go back to sleep?[/i]

Jorde gulped. "I-i-i don't think I can go to sleep right now." he stammered, panic setting in, his eyes warbling with water.

Luckily another spirit was about to step up to the plate before Jorde had an all-out crisis.

'Bloody useless bunch of malcontent idiots,' grumbled Octavium, 'always causing more mess than is necessary. Follow that shadow, Jorde, or I will make things difficult for all of us.'

---

@Mae - What do I need to roll to achieve this? So as I can work out how many extra points I wish to allocate to make the roll...

Difficult? asked Jorde, breathing heaviliy. His heart beat loud in his chest as he dutifully shuffled down the isles. Air drifted in through the small, circular, now broken skylight that sat above him. Difficult how?

'Pain so intense, your face will melt off. You do not want that to happen, do you now? But remember what I do for you when you do as I ask? All those hangovers I've magicked away... I store them, ready to force you to do my bidding,' Octavium growled lightly...

Well, THAT woke Jorde up from his line of questioning. "Please... anything but that. I like the fact I don't get hangovers..." he replied, dumbfounded, standing among the growling thomes, trying to forget the fact the recently-dead corpse of Madradius was hanging out in the same room as him.

what do you think we should do?! he asked, feeling those panicked feelings returning.

'Look for anything on how to trap demons, and you shall be rewarded,' stated Octavium.

"What if he just researches necromancy and reanimates the dead guy." Camilla said. The dead girl had been quite until now because everyone else had been boring, but now there was a descent conversation going on. "That would solve the black magic and murder problems both, not to mention giving us an ally, right?