(Sal intelligence check - 65 (req 50) / Passed)
You felt his panic dissolve into a cold, brittle clarity. Through your bond, you sensed Sal lock his jaw, his muscles coiling tight beneath the stolen cloak. His heartbeat hammered an erratic rhythm against his ribs, but you were pleased to feel it turning into fuel rather than fear.
'Crow? What do I do?'
'Listen closely,' you murmured into his mind. 'We cannot afford a fight. Even running is a risk. We talk to it. The abilities I gave you mimic spirit abilities. That is what stirs its curiosity. We can use that.'
The old woman rose to her feet, her joints popping loudly in the quiet street. You felt Sal draw a slow, deliberate breath.
'However she is sensing you, it is not by sight. We might be able to convince it that you are actually a spirit, or that you are under the direct protection of one,' you told him. 'I will guide you, but this spirit is perceptive. It might not be enough. It would be better if you allowed me to speak through your body.'
**(Req 45 - 15 (tense situation) = 30 /
Roll 18 (fail)**
You felt Sal's immediate recoil at the proposal. A spike of cold terror pierced his focus; to him, surrendering physical control felt too close to dying. Disappointing. This would have been a good opportunity to raise your control over this host, but such was life.
'Just for the duration of the talk, of course. It is not a requirement, though,' you assured him smoothly, stepping back before the panic could poison his trust in you.
'Is there no other option?' Sal asked, his mental voice tight.
'You will have to trick the spirit through your manner of speech, which will be hard but doable. Just repeat after me…'
—---------
Sal smoothed his expression. "I apologize for trespassing into your territory. I was just about to leave."
"That wasn't what I asked, now was it?" she rasped, her smile stretching wider.
"You don't look like a knowledge seeker to me, so why press me as such? I bear no ill intent."
"I can smell your fear, human." She took a deliberate step forward. "Stop talking nonsense if you know what's good for you."
Every instinct screamed at Sal to retreat. He shifted his weight, but Crow's presence flared in his mind, anchoring him.
'Hold your ground. If it feels weakness, it might just attack…'
Sal held his chin high, bitterly cursing his rotten luck in his mind. "Your nose is playing tricks on you. I have merely borrowed a mortal's body to do my bidding."
"Oh, is that so?" She cackled, the sound dry and grating. "Then why not gift me this vessel's heart? I haven't had a good meal in a long time."
Her posture shifted. The air grew heavy, thick with malicious anticipation.
Sal narrowed his eyes, dropping the polite act. "I wanted to be polite, but do you think I'm daft? If you were as strong as you claim, you couldn't have passed through the boundary—"
**Spirit perception roll - 75 + 20(cause Sal is no actor) = 95
Sal charisma roll - 35**
He didn't even get to finish. The spirit's pitch-black eyes flared. His bluff had failed entirely; she saw right through the lie, unbothered by his posturing. She snarled, her facade dropping entirely.
She lunged. The movement was completely silent, her frame blurring into a streak of ragged cloth and sharp teeth as she crossed the distance in a fraction of a second.
**Spirit attack roll - 6 + 16 (10 from passing, 6 from the 60 difference in the previous roll) = 22
Sal defence - 42**
But Sal was ready. Before her claws could even graze him, he thrust his hand upward. The compacted sand of the alley floor erupted. A dense wave of sand surged up like a massive jaw, curling inward to crush the hag.
The earth slammed shut with a crunch.
But there was no impact. No resistance. The crone wavered like a heat mirage and vanished.
From the collapsing dust of his sand-trap, a golden wolf burst forward, its jaws snapping viciously toward his throat.
Mid-leap, the beast split. Three identical wolves landed with eerie silence, circling him under the faint moonlight. Without a sound, they sprang from three directions at once, a coordinated flurry of fangs and golden fur.
(Sal Perception roll - 90 (req 60)
Sal's eyes darted, his adrenaline sharpening his focus to a razor's edge. He saw through the trick instantly. Two of the beasts glided flawlessly over the dirt, leaving no trace. The third, coming from his blind side, kicked up a faint, almost imperceptible spray of sand as its paws struck the earth.
He pivoted, ignoring the phantoms completely. He slammed his heel down hard. The sand directly beneath the real wolf surged upward into a churning pillar, aiming to swallow the spirit whole.
(Spirit roll - 78 (req 50) / Pass)
But the spirit was fast. Mid-air, the wolf twisted, its spine contorting at an unnatural angle to kick off the rising pillar of sand. It launched itself sideways, claws skidding against the sand as it landed ten paces away, creating distance.
The remaining mirages dissolved into wisps of golden light. The real beast paced, its lightless black eyes fixed on him.
"Hmm," it growled, the voice echoing the crone's dry rasp. "I smelled weakness on you, but it seems I was mistaken."
"You were," Sal said. His voice was flat, his stance unyielding, even though it felt like he barely managed to avoid death.
A tense silence stretched between them, thick with the threat of violence. The golden wolf held his gaze for a long moment before baring its teeth in a low, rumbling growl. It took a deliberate step back, its glowing fur beginning to bleed into the surrounding darkness.
"We'll meet again, lying human," the spirit rasped.
The wolf dissolved entirely, swallowed by the shadows.
Sal didn't relax. His muscles remained coiled, his grip tight on his Qi as he scanned the alley, half-expecting a blade of light to catch him from behind. But the air had lost its heavy, malicious pressure. The spirit was gone.
A shout broke the quiet. The heavy crunch of boots approached from the main thoroughfare. The surge of Sal's sandbending had drawn the patrol.
Sal let out a slow breath and let Phantom Meridian blanket him completely. Two guards rounded the corner, torches raised and spears drawn, sweeping the light across the churned earth of the alley. Sal moved in the opposite direction, leaving the men to stare in confusion at the empty ground.
He didn't stop moving until he reached the edge of the Oasis, where the clay buildings gave way to the endless, dark dunes.
'What was that thing?' Sal asked, his mental voice sharp. 'Do you know it?'
'Not that specific creature,' Crow replied smoothly. 'But the rules of its kind are universal. The barrier between the spirit world and the human realm was made by the First Avatar to ever exist, with the help of one of the strongest spirits. That is to say It can only be crossed in one of three ways: luck, strength, or utter hatred.'
Sal looked back at the flickering lights of the settlement. 'It didn't seem that strong.'
'Exactly. If it had crossed over through hatred, it wouldn't have paused to chat with you. It would be tearing this Oasis apart until every mortal was dead. Because its strength was not overwhelming, it likely found a small spiritual tear in the desert and slipped through by luck.' Crow's presence flared, carrying a cold warning. 'But do not confuse its retreat for a surrender. It is clearly an opportunist. It knows your scent now, and it knows you are injured. Do not underestimate it, Sal. It will strike when you least expect it.'
Sal grimaced. He adjusted the strap of his stolen rucksack, the movement pulling painfully at his side. His ribs throbbed. He had food, water, and a masterwork blade, but his body was running on borrowed time and fused sandstone.
'So what now?' Sal asked, his eyes tracing the horizon. 'Do we brave the desert, or do I stay in the Oasis until my body is healed?'
He weighed the choice. The open dunes offered freedom, but out there, he was exposed. The golden wolf, sand sharks, and the elements would need to be braved.
The Oasis offered a different kind of shield. Spirits rarely attacked crowded settlements openly; there was safety in numbers. But lingering in Misty Palms meant dodging patrols, mercenaries, and the constant threat of someone deciding to steal his money if he revealed how much he had.
Sal looked down at his single hand. 'I'm sorry, he thought, projecting the words toward the ring. 'I should have trusted your judgment back there.'
He thought of dexterous arm, his improved earthbending, and the phantom silence that let him walk past guards like a ghost. The ring had done nothing but keep him breathing since he found it. If he had yielded control and let Crow speak, they might have talked the spirit down. His panic had cost them.
A sensation like a dismissive shrug rippled through his mind.
'The past cannot be changed,' Crow replied smoothly. 'Use what happened to push yourself. Grow stronger, and defeat it the next time it appears.'
Sal tightened his grip on the strap of his stolen pack. He tilted his head back, looking past the clay rooftops to the vast, starry sky stretching over the desert.
"I will," Sal said seriously. "Thanks, Crow."
—--------------
**Trust + 5 / Bond = 60 (t 45/c 15) -> +2 tp, New traits unlocked for purchase**
Total Tp - 4
Traits available for purchase:
Old -
Shifting Sands
Effect: Grants the ability to sense sand within a limited range, detecting vibrations to "see" through it without using sight. This effect also works with earth, though at half efficiency.(Cost: 4 Trait Points)
.
Fratricide
(Effect: +5 to all rolls against those who share a close blood relation with the Host. Cost: 1 Trait Point)
.
Earthen Phantom
The memory of Sal's lost arm is a phantom ache that refuses to fade, a constant reminder of his humiliation. But where flesh failed, the desert provides. The earth remembers what was taken, and it is eager to make him whole.
(Effect: Sal can intuitively construct a temporary, fully functional prosthetic arm out of compressed sand or rock. It requires a constant, minor drain of Qi to maintain, but it allows him to execute complex two-handed bending forms and grapple opponents with a bone-crushing grip. Cost: 4 Trait Points)
.
Grit in the Veins
Surviving the venom of the buzzer wasps and nearly bleeding out in the dark has fundamentally changed Sal's physiology. He didn't just pack his wounds with dirt; the desert has become a part of his lifeblood.
(Effect: Increases the Host's natural resistance to all poisons, toxins, and venoms by 50%.
(Cost: 3 Trait Points)
.
Blood of the Si Wong
Normal earthbenders manipulate the minerals in the ground. Sal's connection has become far more intimate—he bled into the desert, and the desert packed itself into his veins to keep him alive. The line between his flesh and the earth has permanently blurred.
(Effect: Sal can use his own spilled blood as an absolute bending medium. Any sand or earth soaked in his blood becomes an extension of himself; it requires 90% less Qi to manipulate, and it is almost impossible to be bent by other earthbenders while he himself is using it. Cost: 5 Trait Points)
(Note : not just 'touched by'- Soaked)
.
—------
.
New :
.
Aura of the Wastes
Sal possesses a naturally intense presence that fuels his vast Qi reserves. As he grows more confident and ruthless, that presence begins to leak outward, carrying the oppressive weight of the deep desert.
Effect: Sal can weaponize his Qi to project an aura of dread and dehydration. Weaker-willed opponents (or those susceptible to intimidation) within a short range suffer a psychological drop in morale, resulting in a -5 penalty to all their combat and perception rolls. (Cost: 3 Trait Points)
.
.
Sandstone Marrow
The desert didn't just save Sal's life; it showed him a new way to endure. Having packed his own torn flesh with sandstone, his body has realized that earth is just as good a structural support as bone.
Effect: Sal can intuitively draw sand and earth into his body to brace broken bones, seal deep wounds, or reinforce his skeletal structure. While it does not restore HP, it temporarily negates physical debuffs (like pain or movement penalties) from severe physical trauma as long as he has Qi to sustain the earthen braces. (Cost: 5 Trait Points)
(Note : Might lead to infections if overused)
.
.
Crucible of Pain
Sal's father didn't just beat him; he taught him that pain is the only constant. Sal survived by learning not just to endure agony, but to absorb it.
Effect: Pain and physical damage impose negative modifiers on Sal's rolls as usual but now they also act as bonuses. Any physical trauma, bleeding, or poison Sal endures is instantly converted into strength. The closer he is to death, the more destructive his bending becomes.(Cost: 6 TP)
(Note - 10% increase in bending strength (not technique, not finesse) for every 10% of HP lost)
---------
A.N - Stay in the Oasis or brave the desert?