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Damn, missing out on the DRAMA.
DM as in Direct Message. Ya know?
I'm still waiting for a DM response myself, but can probs post by tonight no problemo.
<Snipped quote by Expendable>

To answer your question because I didn't see it. Yes. There are some very crude torches in the tunnerl but they don't give much light since, As a goblin, you do have natural darkvision.


Is it safe to presume that any race that has darkvision in DnD would have darkvision here?
The forest was appealing, in the absence of any others. It was to be expected, after all. The runts had come together under the presumption that their numbers would make them more effective, but the success that they found with the Elwets wasn't mirrored during their escapades up the mountain. Impatience brewed soon after, thoughts bubbling up to the surface with regards to the efficacy of simply doing things alone, and then, just like that? A collective of six turned into just six individuals, each with their own thoughts and their own hunts.

It was good to know though. Possessing the memories of being a human didn't necessarily make one a better comrade. Possessing special abilities given to them by a deity didn't necessarily make one's life easier.

And then there was the current situation, with one of the largest of the orcs looming before her now, his countenance undeniably bear-like. The mass of a day labourer, this one had. If they were human, she'd have expected liver spots too, a nose twisted by a break that was never set. "It's Esfir," she responded, gaze settling upon the giant's neck. "Another one of the runts made a bug explode and that caused the...camazot to screech out too."

She scratched her chin.

"But what are they? Never heard anything like it."
@Zeroth
Alas, he could've employed his modern-day seduction skills instead. She clearly has experience with dealing with life-death threats, but does she have experience with the kabedon ear-whisper?

I think not.
Though if you can materialize objects out of thin air, you’re not a smith of anything. You’re just a goddamn grimyass wizard.

What struck him was not the scenery, but rather, the distance.

This had to be months worth of travel away by conventional means if it was far enough to reach the coastline. The sheer amount of power that it must take to create a portal like this was heavy, and that didn’t even account for the fact that the portal was a one-way trip. Wingram Academy, an artificial nexus of leylines, could provide enough power for such a movement, yes, but if his understanding of geography was correct, this was now in the realm of Vaal Kastrix, which had much lower ambient essence to be making that same portal back. Did the Principal have an Ethos that enabled such movements, or was it simply a testament to her power?

It was a curious thing, and that wasn’t even taking into account the relationship she had between herself, the Bronsteel duplicate, and this decrepit gnome. He could infer that the Bronsteel duplicate was a result of the gnome’s work or that the gnome was responsible for their maintenance at least, but to what extent that went, Otis was still uncertain. A prolonged investigation then. Through his Adapa, the Strigidae remotely controlled his construct, allowing it to wheel inside the gnome’s residence, before slipping underneath the sofas that Raja sat upon. There was a soft click as its wheels retracted into its own form, rendering it to just a stationary, brass ball, and from there it laid, the Seeker essence fading away while its audio-visual transmissions spell continued to consume atmospheric essence.

With another few adjustments, Otis set his grimoire to record the transmissions for later review, before closing the book entirely. Such a fascinating little discovery, and at mere chance at that! He had to speak with the gnome some time soon. There was a mystery to untangle here, and while Otis was certain he could’ve gotten something substantial simply out of interrogating Gulliver himself, testimonies could lie while evidence did not. What a grand place Wingram Academy was! What a grand collaboration already, rife with backroom dealings!



And then there was the Iris Record, the Ascendis Dormitory.

Two guards, dressed in black for intimidation and professionalism. He mirrored the stance shift of the orc woman, his amber gaze bouncing between the two of them. So this was where faculty lived, where particular students earned the right to reside in.

“There’s already students registered here? Who? I’d imagine the Leuvalt person, considering his background, and maybe Bronsteel, because of his part-time job, but is that all? What’s the condition for getting that sort of approval to begin with, considering how no examinations outside of a single impromptu entrance exam had occurred? And you’ve mentioned that this serves as a residence for two types of people, but what’s this about a proving ground?” Questions flowed easily, a stream with neither source nor destination. Or perhaps it was more like a tap from which water fell, capable of stopping on a whim. “I’m here because this tower is the tallest building in Wingram Academy, and I would like access to the very top. Who do I speak to for this?”
There's spells, ye. The whole point of Morg's Elves is that they're big on magic and spells.

Presumably we learn them from being taught them by the natives, if we have the genetic potential for it.
So how far away is the construct-spy now?
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