Teleportation For Dummies

Pop-in, grab the girl, pop-out.

Zu_den_blauen_Flaschen_painting_c1900Ja’Deir was sitting on his bed in the ‘Hobbled Gelding,’ breathing measuredly in the depths of meditation. He felt a rippling of the air around him, and his awareness was pulled to the surface, as the heavenly smell of Mrs Hawthorne’s peach cobbler. His muzzle twitched toward his door, stomach murmuring at him expectantly, and he sighed in acceptance. “Well, there’s nothing for it. Guess I’m done for the day!” Ja’Deir’s eyes popped open, and he hopped off the bed. He crossed his tiny room to the rippled washstand mirror, and checked his eyes for any sign of sleep. He threw water on his face, dried off, and stepped to the window.

He jumped up and out, spreading his arms to the brief gusts of wind hitting his face. Mr. Hawthorne always joked that he’d have to put a welcome mat on Ja’Deir’s window sill, if he refused to use the stairs like normal folk; that just made Ja’Deir enjoy it more, exiting by his second-story window. If he were anyone else, jumping like that, he’d have broken an arm or leg by now, but Ja’Deir was an Ashada. His people thrived in high mountain valleys, where their most common form of travel is hang gliding from peak to valley floor with the loose flaps of skin stretching between their elbows and waists. His ‘wings’ caught the air, and his stomach leapt with the rush of flight as he glided in a lazy, circular pattern to the ground.

“Hey, Ashada!” Jack the Smithy called to him when he landed just outside the shop’s awning. “Fine day, ain’t it?”

“Beautiful! Fine work, there. ‘That a new sickle?”

“Yup. Blasted McDurfy’s busted his again. Leaves ‘em out in the rain, most like.”

“What would he do without-cha, then? Well, see ya later.” Ja’Deir called jovially as he walked to the Inn’s entrance. He was greeted with the usual smell of pipe tobacco, roast beast, and ale, accompanying the low rumble of mid-day’s rush, and Fannie Jonah, the town’s only musician.

“Hey, Jaddy!” Mr. Hawthorne called. “Door busted, then?”

“As usual. Did I smell Mz Hawthorne’s cobbler?”

“She’s just taking it out of the ovens. You’ve got a sixth-sense about my woman’s cookin’, you do.” Mr. Hawthorne chuckled to himself. “You take a seat, now, I’ll fetch you a plate.”

Ja’Deir walked to his usual seat, at the table in the center of the room. He loves to be at the center of the room, with everyone around – the better to socialize. He had just ordered himself a drink when he felt a strange tugging sensation behind his spine. It was like someone stuck their hand into his back, cupped his spine and started pulling, like a child tugs at its mother’s dress. Ja’Deir had never felt anything of the like, and knew under any other rational feeling that it was finally time to join CrIsis!

Ja’Deir didn’t know how much time he had left, so he jumped up from the table, called to the kitchens with an, “I’ve got to run! I will leave the pay on the dresser! May Apis’ Love embrace you!” and ran from the room.

He bounded up the stairs, quickly grabbed his gear, and left his extra pair of shoes as the whole world shifted sideways and lurched, as if he were jumping off an impossibly tall mountain cliff. Before he could get used to the sensation, the world jarred to a halt, the light shifted, and he was assaulted with brand new sights and smells! He was near the ocean, and it was HOT! And… He was surrounded by a carnival assortment of beings.

From the descriptions in the books, he could tell that he was standing with CrIsis. He recognized Overkill, who was shorter than Ja’Deir had thought; and Xerx’ses, who was as tall as assumed, but it’s one thing to read about an eleven-foot-tall Minotaur, and to see one in real life; and Sir Quixis Ote, gleaming to high heaven in his Palladanic armor and glory; and one he did not recognize – A human, dressed in Isis’ priest robes, with an easy smile. Ja’Deir later learned this was Indaris, who joined after the Books of CrIsis that have been published.

The next thing he realized, as the air shifted, was that there was a stench of beer-sweat and dreadlocks. He looked around for a Timarofarian, but there was none in sight, so he kept it to himself. People are generally touchy about their stenches. As a being with fur, Ja’Deir knew all too well how hard it was to stay clean, and how important it was… you never want to know what it feels like to have a family of Dyval Tick-Lice set up shop in your armpits. The evil ceremonial bongos keep you up all night long!

There was a general momentary confusion, though it passed much more quickly for them than it did for Ja’Deir, as if this were a common, every day experience! Oh, how strange it would be to live a life thus. They seemed to all talk at once, but the question Ja’Deir heard was offered by the Minotaur. ”Have yoOoo the Ring?”

He looked at his hand, and said, “Wha? Uh… yes, it looks like I do.”

“Fair enough, welco-moooo! My namoo is Xerx’ses. We’ll have the ‘Fireside Chat’ later toOoonight on the boat, with Cava.” Ja’Deir understood most of what was said, and gladly acquiesced. “Moo!” Nothing in the world could bring him down – he was finally (after a month of waiting) with CrIsis!!!

The next day passed like an Ashada on the wind. Ja’Deir accompanied CrIsis to the home of a wizened human named “Sullyott” who took offense to Ja’Deir calling him Sully, and then from there to the ancient boat temporarily taking the place of the fabled Matilda… which CrIsis was calling Rogue-tilda. Ja’Deir was disheartened to know that Roggan, the first representative of Apis in a long time in CrIsis, had passed his psyche into the boat! The scripture of Apis fits him more than any being Ja’Deir had met. ‘Greater hath no man than this…’ More than anything, he wanted to free Roggan from the docks at Cyclone, and commune with him and Apis, the Aspect of Love.

During the ‘Fireside Chat,’ none other than Tyvernos popped up in the middle of the meeting of CrIsis! He greeted everyone with a, “Hail and well met, CrIsis! I am the Grand Tyvernos, and I shall be accompanying you on your quest! Bow before my illustrious greatness! Or not. You know, whatever lends buoyancy to your ballast-ridden vessels of seafaringness! And Who might this Fine Furry Flimsy-limbed False-Flying Friend of yours be?” To which Ja’Deir made a humble introduction, thinking that he would need to buy a Thesaurus! He only understood a sentence or two of Tyvernos’ Speech!

After most of the questions were answered, Ja’Deir melded his consciousness with Cava, the tormented Ranger, and with Xerx’ses, the tormented Warrior Wizard. He wanted to know the depths of their pain, so that he could help them out of their darkest recesses. What he was met with was profound sorrow, and guilt. He knew the sorrow and guilt, as his entire homeland was taken from him, though he had never let it delve that far down into his soul. The depression had taken root, and started to fester. The taint upon their souls was much more than Ja’Deir could possibly hope to help by himself.

There is something to be said about Joy, and Service, and Love. When they are coupled with a focus of Selflessness, they have nearly magical properties. Ja’Deir had helped dozens of villages with his proselyting, and most of the filth and darkness was lifted by those three simple things. When you focus outward, and not inward, the Dark One has a harder time twisting you toward the abyss.

The darkness that Ja’Deir witnessed could not simply be helped with a smile and a jig. It would require that they let go of the darkness, and a holy touch. That did not mean that Ja’Deir could not try. He planned to do all he could! The Lord Horus had instructed him to, after all.

CrIsis ate supper at the Palace of the Prime Minister, Mikala, that night! How amazing it is, to live among such famous and powerful people! The conversation ranged from the Gods to Trade to the Lopanic Games, which Ja’Deir was sorry to hear didn’t allow any psionics. Even so, it will be such a spectacle to behold! The dinner drew to a close, and the lot of them made their satisfied (and inebriated) ways to the Docks, and Indaris was the only one with a date! So not fun! He was a perfect gentleman, though, so I guess it’s alright.

After a debate that seemed longer than it truly was, CrIsis set off toward Cyclone and Rogue-Tilda in the depths of night. Although he’d never stepped onto a dock before, Ja’Deir seemed to have been blessed by the gods with knowledge of sailing and seamanship! Captain Overkill stood behind the helm, calling out orders to CrIsis, who were across the decks, or up in the sails, and Ja’Deir’s feet and hands instinctively leapt to where they were needed. It was a sight to behold, in the dead of night on the coastal seas of the Yin-Sloth jungles – Sea-blown Dwarven Pirate, calling to a Minotaur, three Humans, an Elf, an Ashada, and a gnome, all of whom were deftly handling tasks that should have been handled by twice their number. “ARR! Tighten that Boltrope!! Give me slack in that Bowline! Afterguard, reel in, we’re about to hit a stormfront! FLY, YOU BILGERATS! We’ll ne’er reach Cyclone with such yellerbellied land lubbers as ye! Belay the anchor, its tossin’ us to and fro like Algor’s own mumma!” and so on he yelled.

The night passed slowly, with no one sleeping a wink… except for Xerx’ses, who fell asleep once against the mast, and fell into the rigging. It took less time to rescue him than you’d have expected, though.

The next morning, the light of dawn revealed we had sailed right into a circle of ships. They had a strange flag, and we didn’t have the signaling flags to ask them their business. The sense of forboding grew aboard the ship, thinking of ways to escape the apparent trap, until the idea came from Indaris to teleport to his home town. CrIsis chose to relinquish their substitute vessel to the mystery ships.

Looking at the horizon, Captain Overkill called over the deck of worried sailors, “Arrg! Move yer fins, NOW! Run to yer bunks, ye bunch of lillyliver scalawags! Grab whatcha cn’ carry, an’ return topside ta teleport with Indaris! We’re jumpin ship! Though a right shame it be! Arrg!”

By the second ‘Arrg!’ Ja’Deir was at his palette, gathering his things. He grabbed his backpack, and realized it was moving! Ja’Deir’s heart leapt. He tentatively opened the flap, and he was mauled by two furry white monsters!

“BONNIE! CLYDE! You’re here!? Oh, I thought I left you behind! I’m so glad you stowed away, you little criminals!” The pair of white minks settled down enough for Ja’Deir to wrangle them into a hug. They echoed his joy and excitement through their bond, and leapt from his arms to search the large sleeping compartment for shinies.

Ja’Deir gathered the rest of his belongings and called out to his fine furry friends to hop back into his backpack. He started thinking of a carrying case for them. He felt terrible just stuffing them into his backpack with all of his junk, being jostled around and squished.

Ja’Deir stepped back onto the deck, and it appeared like he was the last one, as Cava was tapping his foot, looking at his wrist… Why his wrist? Ja’Deir scurried to the prayer circle already forming, and formed the symbol of Rin, and in rhythm with the Priest’s prayer, muttered the mantra, ‘o’ṃ baishira mantaya sowaka’.

No sooner had the words of Indaris’ prayer left his lips that all of them were plopped into even more swealtering heat than they had before. An aged priest looked at them with his jaw on the floor after taking a double take. Indaris walked up to him, and said, ”Father Philip! ‘Tis good that we should see you so soon! How hast thou been, Father? Pray that thou hastn’t run afoul of naught but the sacramental wine!” Indaris grabbed the priest in a jovial hug. After recovering, Father Phillip broke his comatose state, and returned the embrace, chuckling.

{[This whole situation taught me the basics of modern Teleportation. You just ‘Pop in,’ get dinner with a Prime Minister, Get a date with a hot priestess, and then just Teleport back home. Indaris, you are my hero.]}

>>Adapted from memory, on the 2nd of Pegasus in the 3rd year of CrIsis. Events spanning several days in a forest in the Yin Sloth. Entry by Ja’Deir, Ashada Mind Mage, disciple of Apis.<< First Picture: Wikipedia – Commons
Second Picture: Wikipedia
Third Picture:
Bonnie: Strange
Clyde: Vi Sualize


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