Solo The End of My Rope

[Alric Wilmot]

71st of Fall 513 AV Alric looked out at the passing streets and alleys as he glided along the canal in the ferry driven by the ravosalaman. Today was a rather mundane day, with nothing to mark it from the others of the week. It was clouded over, with a slight chill in the air. The wind was still, and the water was even more so. Only the people bustled about, going along their business and seeking opportunities of riches. Or, well, some were. Alric could see the truth among the worst of them, and the best as well. They lived day by day doing the same things, etching out livings by selling fish, sewing clothes, spreading their legs, and offering their time. They wasted away at the bottom to feed and lavish those on top. How he yearned to be on that top. He acted like it, he dressed like it, and even smelled like it. But he was not someone from the upper echelons of society. He was homeless, unemployed, and in a strange city. He had so many advantages, yet none had pulled through for him yet. His friend Miro had provided him a place to stay, but that kindness was not meant to last forever. He was running low on his funds from when he was a Speaker of Alvadas. A keeper of the laws, he was. But all that was past, and now he was in the city of lies observing the greatness and wretchedness of Mizahar all at once. He had long ago decided to rid the world of the worst truths, but he had never truly understood how horrible things were until coming here. As the ferry silently glided along the canal Alric passed several alleys, each of which he saw some kind of debauchery. He could not call them crimes, as they were perfectly legal. But in any other civilized society he was certain such men would be hanged for their deeds. Rapes, murders, robberies, and others too heinous all preformed against the visitors, the inhuman, and those just too weak to stop it. He felt no great outrage or righteous anger, only an aching sadness for those victims who would now never see the glorious world he was shaping. He would make sure that such things ceased in the coming future. But that was not why he was out today. Now, that goal had to be set aside until his current goal was met. He needed to master Animation, and to do that he needed more materials. His doll and door handle were good stepping stones, but there was always more to learn. So far he had only used his own soul as a template, and transferred his own knowledge and muscle memory. Today he was going to find two things to use in conjunction with his new skill. He needed a snake, and a rope. He had told the Ravosalaman to take him where he might find the two in one place, and was lucky enough to find the man not question him. The ferry came to a stop at a street under a rather nice looking bridge. Alric turned to the Ravosalaman who was expecting a tip, and filled his eyes with djed. He sent forth his djed in a tendril into the man's mind, and gave a warm smile. "Thank you very much my good man, but I'm afraid I'm right where I need to be. I'm sorry I cannot ride with you, but look on the bright side, at least you asked first eh? Now I'm terribly sorry but I must be going. Perhaps it was someone else you were told to wait for?"

[Alric Wilmot]

Though the man was initially confused, Alric sent in images of the man being told to wait here for a white clad man by a rail-thin woman with grey hair and heavy features. He accompanied those thoughts with images of the man called Alric over, mistaking him to be that man. He sent in emotions to go along with those images and melded them together. The man would not retain his memory of meeting and leading Alric here. The new memories were too fresh and far more emotionally weighty. Alric bolstered them when he thought he saw the man's eyes narrow. Suspicion might let the man break such a weak and impromptu hypnosis. Alric needed a trance to make such a thing truly strong, but alas he had no time. He waved to the man and walked away, looking for a shop to enter. He found one quickly enough, small and unassuming as it was. He opened the door, a badly damaged piece of wood that seemed to have once been painted white, but was now chipped and faded so badly he wasn't sure what color it once was. As he entered the establishment he was hit with the smell of musty rugs and freshly cut wood. An interesting combination to be sure. At the near end, close to the door, was a woman behind the desk. She was a bit rotund, and had short curly hair. She leaned back on chair with her nose in a book. She looked up at Alric once, before going back to her reading. Alric took that as the greeting it was meant to be and wandered off inside. The building was small, and contained only one room. The only window was at the back, and darkness permeated the place wherever a lantern was missing. Lanterns were spread sporadically on top of bookcases, cages, and even the floor. An old rug, made of bear fur, if Alric had to guess, covered one particular cage. Alric decided not to bother that one. He stepped lightly and assuredly between the cages, and found them all housing small reptiles of one kind or another. One had turtles of every color and size, caught in Lake Ravok no doubt. Another had lizards of the sort that Alric had never seen before. One was even colored a peculiar yellow. Yet the last one near the corner was what he was most interested in. A cage full of snakes, slithering over one another. He frowned at that. he only needed one, and did not want a poisonous one. He did not want to stick his hand in their without some confirmation that the slithering swarm would not bite him. Granted he could use hypnotism, but not every moment of the day. After he purchased the creature he needed to make sure it would not be the death of him. He called over to the woman. "Excuse me, ma'am? Are these snakes poisonous?" The woman looked up from her book and glanced in his direction. "Not those, no. They only be common grass snakes. I don't sell venom or anything o' the like. You need to go somewhere else if tha' be your intention." Alric nodded in understanding as the woman returned to her book. That was a relief. they weren't poisonous, er... venomous. It took much of the worry he had about his plan away. He decided he'd get the snake after he got the rope. He began rummaging through all of the nick nacks and other oddities placed on the shelves in an attempt to find some basic rope. He couldn't afford anything too long, it needed to be about the same size as the snake, two feet at the most. Finally, and somewhat ironically, he found rope of that size near the snake cage, on the opposite side of where he had been standing. He chuckled a bit, before heading to the counter.

[Alric Wilmot]

"Excuse me, Ma'am? I'd like this rope and one of your grass snakes. If you wouldn't mind." The woman gave a huff and looked up at Alric in a way that communicated that she would rather read her book. But she remained silent as she pulled a sack from under the counter and an odd looking stick with two pincers at the end, connected to a string. She waddled off of her chair and walked toward the cage with the snakes. She opened the cage from the top, where the snakes couldn't reach and pushed in her odd stick rather forcefully. "I will not pay for damaged goods!" She turned to Alric with a scowl, but went back to the cage and didn't say a word. She fumbled around with her stick for a moment or two before taking out a snake by the neck. It was held firmly by her two punchers. She placed it in the cloth sack and twisted the top of it, before tieing it in a knot. She shambled back to the counter and plopped the snake onto the counter. "Alright, sir will tha' be all?" Alric nodded. With a grunt she told Alric that it would be 5 gold rimmed miza for the snake, and 2 silver rimmed miza for the rope. Alric nodded, though he thought the snake awfully expensive. He was told it was a juvenile Sikuva, though he had no idea what that was or meant. He paid the woman, who perked up just a bit before heading back to her book. Alric gave one last look over the place before heding out the door. He was glad to be hit with the smell of water and stone, he had not realized how terrible the smell of the rug was until he was removed from it. With assured steps he went back toward the canal to find a ravosalaman to ferry him home. The whole trip so far took relatively little time, and he was sure he still had several hours of daylight to practice his Animation if he got back home. As he strolled along, he found the same ravosalaman from before waiting. Alric tilted his head, curious. Why was he still here? As he approached the man looked up, a haggard man with beard surprisingly well kept. "Are you the man in white I was told to wait for?" Alric's eyes widened. Had his hypnosis lasted so long? He hadn't expected that. His hypnosis had lacked tact, restraint, and even proper procedure. It should have lasted seconds, not minutes! Was the man so weak minded? Or... Had he really become that powerful. A great lump formed in his throat, had others been like him? Had he completely stopped men and women from living their lives with his half-baked lies? He had always assumed that they shook off his influence after he walked away. The fact that this man was still held in Alric's spell unnerved him. Though, it excited him as well.

[Alric Wilmot]

If this was truly the extent of his power, and he could keep an influence on a man several minutes after such a shoddy attempt, what then happened to those he hypnotized properly? Was he so close to his ultimate goal? He had not considered this. The poor man, he decided, did not suffer so much. Nor did any of the others. He never hypnotized them with dread terrors or crippling social programming. It was always rather innocuous and harmless. Like waiting on a white-clad man. He smiled at the bearded ravosalaman "Yes, yes, I am. The lady paid you I take it?" The Ravosalaman paused, trying to recall. Alric decided not to interfere. He was curious to see if his meddling would really last under scrutiny. At last the man nodded, and gestured for Alric to get in. Alric complied, a smirk on his face. Things were getting interesting in Ravok, that was a definite. Not long after, they arrived at Miro's home, where Alric was staying. He left the man and carried his snake and rope inside. He called out to see if Miro was home, but it appeared he was not. That was just as well. After all, Alric did not like to be distracted. He went into his room and retrieved the proper materials. Chalk, the knife, and the book, just in case. He was rather sure he was getting the hang of it, but he wanted the book close by regardless in case he had a question. He decided not to preform in his room again, wanting to go somewhere with more light. This house had no courtyard, being small and honestly not meant for three people. Though it did have separate rooms, and that spoke quite a bit to Miro's wealth. Alric left his room and went to the main common area, where the windows were open, allowing shafts of light inside. He took his chalk and drew two circles on the floor. One large, and one small. This was the first time he was using something else as a template for the Soulcore, and as such he was nervous. What if it did not work? Or what if it backfired horribly? The snake in the sack wiggled inside, not liking being closed up in a dark prison. Alric sent a calming emotion into the snake, to set it at ease. It stopped wiggling, though Alric thought it had every right to be nervous. He set the rope in the smaller circle while putting the snake in the larger circle. He kept it in the bag, not wanting to subdue it with hypnosis the entire time. He did not wish to tax his djed any more than needed. With a big breath he took the knife and held it to the same finger he had pricked many times before. He had a feeling that this might cause that particular finger to become far more sensitive after so many small cuts, but carefully pricked it anyway. The blood ran freely down his finger, his palm, and then to the floor. The white chalk contrasted nicely with the dark red blood. He stepped back and closed his eyes, searching for that connection that he had felt a few times before. He found it, though it seemed stranger than before. Before it had only been him and the object. This time it was him, the object, and the template. It was not entirely different, but it was just enough to make things new again. He could see in his mind's eye a writhing sun in the shape of the serpent. That was the beasts soul. For lack of a better description, he pinched off a bit of that fire, and let it travel down the tether of djed to the rope. He found that it did not glide as easily as his own had, and that he needed to guide it down to the rope slowly and gently. Once it found its way there, it snapped in place, securing the soulcore of the Golem. Alric smirked to himself, glad that he was able to do this without the book.

[Alric Wilmot]

He closed his eyes once again and concentrated on the directives he wanted to give. He wanted the rope to act like a rope most of the time, but then strangle someone's throat when thrown at them. So that meant it needed to know what throwing was, what strangling was, and what a throat was. He sent images from his own mind of the throat, and attached the word throat to it. He did the same with strangle, sending both a series of images showing the rope strangling an imagined throat, along with the word strangle. Next he moved on to throwing. Again, he imagined throwing the rope at a person, and it then hitting that person. He attached the word throw to the action. With all that done he gave the directives. Directive #1: When thrown, activate Directive #2: When activated, strangle closest throat He then moved on to the muscle memory, and this was different and stranger than he was accustomed to. He took the swirling fire that was the snake, and peered into it, looking for the ways it moved. He looked for the slithering, the strangling, and everything else. He ignored more bodily functions, and took the muscle memories as he made the template. He found them as smaller sparks, feeding the whole flame. He copied them and sent them down the line to the rope. He felt them snap into place much like the soulcore. With that done, he moved onto the Astral Body. It was easier than normal. He did not have to think about the shape, but rather, as he had with the Soulcore and memories, lifted and copied it from the serpent. No wonder the book had said it did not recommend using yourself! Using some animal in the vague shape of your golem was much easier. As he concentrated on the Astral body, he remembered that the book had emphasized making a kill phrase for all of his golems. When the Astral Body was complete, he went on then to the final piece. The Kill phrase was next. So far, all of his kill phrases had been the same string of numbers, 10037211349. It had no relation to him, and could not be guessed. But he wondered if it should be different for this one golem. After all, if it was used on him he would not be able to speak. Might he then simply make the kill phrase a sound rather than any wort of word? Perhaps three consecutive claps? He stroked his chin, believing this to be the best course of action. After all he did not want to perish by his own creations. Though it would be wonderfully ironic, and could allow for a rather dramatic legend down the line, he had no intention of dieing until his life's work was completed. With that thought in mind he set himself to work. He sent in the concept of movement, attaching it to strangle, and slither, and coil, and everything else the snake's memories had conveyed to the golem. He sent in the sound of a man clapping his hands, attaching once again the concept and word in the golem's mind. He then moved on to deliver the last directive. Directive #3: when three claps are heard, cease all movement. With that done, Alric opened his eyes and smiled in triumph. This had gone rather smoothly, and was probably the quickest he had managed a new Animation lesson. He wasn't sure what to do about the snake now, either keep it or chuck it in the lake. But he found that he was rather tired. Normally he would clean up as soon as he was done, but right now he just was not in the mood. He yawned and stretched and moved to the straw bed. He would take a short nap. When he woke, he would clean, and maybe... test his new golem.