master_troven | (no subject)

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Alexander leads Nick into a well appointed living room, with a pair of large plush couches facing each other in front of a massive burning fireplace. A small table with a glass covering on it sits between the two of them. The floor is hardwood with a thick persian rug on it. Sleeping on one of the couches is a small brown fire lizard. There are two doors in the room, one to the right and the other to the left. Both entrances are dark. Tall bookshelves line the walls and are stuffed with books and other interesting things, like a war hammer, a pair of bateranges, a collection of jewels, a set of rings and hundreds of other things from different universes. It is apparent that Alexander is a pack rat of the highest order. Nothing seems to be set in any particular order, but it is EVERYwhere.

In a corner is a skeleton of some sort of monsterous humanoid with the head of a bull. Next to it is a knight's black armor, missing it's arms and legs and coated in blood. There are several shields above the fireplace and an umbrella stand has swords sticking out of it. There's a liquor cabinet against one of the book shelves with all sorts of interesting shaped bottles.

Tossing his cloak onto a couch, he said, "Sorry about the mess. I don't get many visitors."

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"Oh, it's quite all right. It all looks fascinating." Nick looks around, avidly interested in what he sees.

"I'm a bit of a collector... my wife... she used to call me a pack rat. Perhaps I am. But I prefer collector." He goes over to the liquor cabinent and pulls it open. "Can I get you ... you know, I never got your name. Hah. Just like me. Picking up random young men without ever getting their names."

"Nicholas. Nicholas Sayre. What's your name?" Nicholas inspects the suit of armour.

"Alexander Troven. That was from a rather persistant knight who didn't know when to quit. Died of blood loss." He pulls out two glasses and poured brandy into them. "Brandy alright?"

"Somehow, that doesn't surprise me at all." He turns and straightens, taking a rather broken pair of green-lensed spectacles from his pocket and slipping them on. "Yes, brandy is fine, thank you."

The spectacles get Alexander's interest. He tilts his head curiously as he hands over the brandy. "What are those?"

"My eyeglasses. They're not holding up very well to the weather in the Old Kingdom, I'm afraid." He slides them off again and offers them to Alec. "You can look if you'd like."

He takes them and holds them up to the light, "Hmm... it looks the the world you're on has a very interesting property. Very unusual. It's not the weather that's effecting them, dear boy; it's the world."

"Well, the weather is part of the world. We're right by a lake, it's quite damp there." Nick says this as if it explains the cracked lens and frame.

"Mmm... no. There's a property... hm... how to explain it. Something about that world's reality doesn't like manufactured things. At least not done by machines. Anything like that deteriates. If you were to have someone there to make you a pair of glasses, I'm sure they'd stay a while."

"I'm not sure they have anything like that in the Old Kingdom. I've never heard of anyone with glasses, after all." Nick sips his brandy.

"If there's a good glass-smith around, I'm sure they could come up with something, if you showed him yours," Alexander said, handing back spectacles. "What's this Old Kingdom of yours like?"

"It's not mine. I'm merely doing some research. But it's quite old-fashioned, no cars or aeroplanes. They all believe in magic and fear the dead, but I've seen no evidence to corroborate that either thing exists. My friend Sam is the prince. I was hoping to see him in my time there, but I haven't yet." Nick tucks the glasses back in his pocket.

"Mmm... if everyone believes it to be so, why would they all be wrong? It seems rather odd, don't you think?" He sipped his brandy. "My people firmly believed that there could not be anymore element wizards, that there couldn't be any more, but when faced with the evidence, they eventually had to believe."

"Well, I haven't been faced with any evidence, and many baseless superstitions are widely believed."

It's probably worth mentioning that Nick's Incorrigible Logic +3 is not entirely his fault.

"Every superstition has a basis in fact."

Nick shrugs and takes a drink of brandy. "Well, I suppose. I simply can't see where the bases of these ones are."

"Perhaps that there is actually magic? When all logical explanations have been exhausted, sometimes it's the illogical one that is true."

Nick frowns and shrugs. All this talk of magic is unsettling something inside of him. "Can you smell something? Metallic?"

"Hrm?" Alexander stops in mid sip. He sniffs the air, "No... nothing unusual."

He rubs his eyes. "Funny, I smell metal. Hot metal..." As he speaks, a wisp of smoke trickles out of his mouth.

"Oh. Nice trick! Very good," Alexander said, approvingly, leaning up against the fireplace mantel.

"I- I'm not sure what you're talking about." The trickle gets slightly smaller as Nick unconsciously fights it back, then redoubles in size and he jerks violently.

"Oh. VERY interesting. Did everything increase in size?"

Nick doesn't hear him, as Nick appears to have fainted.