Re: The Game
In reply to Conrad son of Leif (msg # 582):
There is literally no accounting for gnomish practicality.
You and your fellow crew, myself included, were nearly killed by a submarine full of reptilegasm. Your immediate response was to not heal or rest, immediately take a secondary battle party over, suffer serious injury against a ship known to still be full of an unknown number of hostiles and, clearly, some badass shit that's more than just standard gnome issue, and you are surprised by the fact that I threw a modicum of caution to the wind and put on my new Magneto (a Fey word, obviously) helmet without understanding what it did?
The fuck guys. You'll have to pardon my misplaced sense of adventure for skewing more toward "unknown eldritch" than "Sub full of snake", but I've lived almost 200 years pissing in the face of practical thinking, and I have no intention of stopping now.
As for what it does? The fuck if I know. It's shiny as shit, it's the color of blood, which is ALWAYS a good omen, and it's written in a nigh undecipherable language which I do recognize to be an interwoven series of magical spells, though what they do, I cannot say. I can assuredly tell you that none of my rashes have cleared up, and I'm no more inclined to kill any of you than I was prior to placing the helmet on. I am craving some roast boar, though the sample size isn't large enough yet to attribute that solely to the helmet, to say nothing of the strange magic that would haunt a man's soul with unkosher thoughts.
So, as the one of us with the most sense to not piss away Magic Blood Helm because Ultron got the heebie jeebies, and by extension, the one of us most in tune with its arcane abilities, I will continue to make this fashion statement and wear Magneto Helm into battle in the hopes that my subconscious survival instincts will unlock its secrets, or whatever- like you know how it works.
Alveris proceeds to vogue himself and showcase his new Magneto helm.
"I believe we have some shit to explore. Lead on Connie"