Country of the Mind
When two beings begin a combat, their awarenesses
transfer from wherever they are to a common locale.
What I call the Country of the Mind. It is there that
the individuals can fight or parley or whatever. Unless
someone is badly hurt or mismatched, disconnection from
this realm and back to reality is relatively easy. The
defender in the psychic combat usually chooses the
terrain, excepting cases where the attacker has
enormous surprise and experience, and so can dictate
the scene.
| The Pair of you are indeed in another place, or your awarenesses at least. A place it seems, constructed mainly from the home team's mental landscape...Triton's. Raining...Lightning...Thunder...The fury of dark skies lashes down upon the pair of you...the fury of crashing sea on the reefs upon each of you stand. For that is where you are... Each standing on small reefs in the middle of what seems to be a fierce tropical storm. About 20 meters of ocean seperate the small atolls upon which both of you stand, and your limited vision shows more such islands all around you, but no sign of mainland, as it were. | Note that Triton, being a Rebman, and based on his personality and information he had been leaking me all campaign (he was born during a storm, etc), I thus decided on this type of locale for the battle. |
Avatars
The next major factor, beyond the scene of the crime, is the participants themselves. The mind is a funny place, and who among us in the real world has not had the imagination to wish themselves something else. Especially true of role players. So, in the Country of the Mind, the minds eye version of oneself can come to the fore for battle. Call it an avatar, for lack of a better term. It is rare that a character will have a range of forms...usually one form is the rule, sometimes with variations.
| I let the change come as it will, tapping into that inner core of mutable power and letting the chameleonic rage within me bear its poisonous fruit. Nearly all Rebmans have the ability to adjust their physical selves in minor fashion, according to the demands of the tides and their needs. However, of late I have found something inside me that calls out for more, a beast of frothing bile lurking just beneath my skin that is eager to howl, to be set free. Unfortunately for Jayson, I've had about all I'm going to take at this point, and that beast is hungry... The grey-scaled skin of a shark slides over my own, lending me a measure of protection while remaining supple and light, while on top of that, a layer of chitinous plates akin to that worn by lobsters. My teeth become the fangs of a moray eel, while fingers and toes become vicious claws. I call for the poison sacs of a sea snake to take root behind my fangs, the yellowish fluid so eager to seek out Jayson's heartblood. My hair becomes a nest of kelp and toxic anemone, bristling and green among the coral. I am terrible to behold, and rich, deep laughter bursts forth even as lightning scars the blue-black sky. "Turn away, Jayson, and leave me to my own fate. I am the Storm King, reborn now in this place, and as I will be yet again. Turn away from your hunt, and know a life without my wrath. Continue, and I will bring all the fury of the wicked sea upon you..." | Here is Triton, changing into his Avatar form. A quite vivid description, and I was pleased and impressed. He had quite nicely grasped the concept and what I wanted |
| Jayson appears as himself, more or less...except his skin is exuding a golden light...even in this form, the Light seems to overpower the raging elemental fury...his hair burnished gold...his eyes bright. A sword and spear in each hand...wearing a magnificent suit of armor...he stands armed and armored...like a golden God, perhaps... I stand within my Avatar, it is easier and natural now, because I do not wonder or resist it this time. I am the Sun Lord. I am the Lord of Light. And somewhere deep down I am also Jayson, but this part of me is awash with the essence of Apollo and my own primal nature. Lord Wildfire. Yet.. | Note that Jayson has had a combat before this...and in that combat learned that his avatar was Apollo and thus did not need to describe to me like Triton did what his avatar was, since we knew it already. |
Round One: Fight!
Okay, with this nice setting, and these Avatars, the
buisness of combat can get underway. Within the limits
of the Avatar, there is a wide range of in-combat ways
to attack your opponent, but they all boil down to the
basic sort of Psychic Attacks as described in the
rulebook, and all of them are powered by your Psyche
and/or Endurance. Thus, a 98 pound physical weakling
but high psyche type in the real world here in the
Country of the Mind could conceive himself as an Ogre
or Giant, and throw huge boulders at his opponent with
ease, each one being a direct mental attack. But see
for yourself what the players did to each other.
|
He looks upwards, his smile slowly returning. A
sudden shaft of light strikes the Storm King from a
rent in the clouds, as they are tortured from above
by the radiance of a Sun grown more intent. The
winds begin to slow, and the sea calm... You can feel the struggle between you to control the raging enviornment.. His light and heat from the unseen sun, altering the storm front.. sapping the strength of your storm.. And with that the Sun Lord half leaps and half soars across the boundries of impossible space to reach the reef where the Storm King.. He growls through gritted teeth, "You.. have already.." He dodges in and out and around the mad Sea Prince.. "FAILED!" he cries as lunges with his spear of Light... He seeks to score a blow before preparing to fly again or dodge any counter blows.. |
Jayson started things off with a bang, and a two pronged attack. The shaft of light and weather changing was really his way of a Psychic Suggestion, since the stormy weather is Triton's mental landscape, and thus Jayson is trying to install a sense of failure and defeat by taking control of the weather. The Leap across and attack with the spear is a simple, classic Psychic Assault. |
| If the Storm King can dodge the spear's thrust, he will grab the haft of the weapon and pull Jayson towards him. Should this work, he will tear into the man's gut with his claws, attempting to disembowel him on the spot. However, if it doesn't work, he will at the very least attempt to unbalance Jayson and send him into the surrounding black water. The weight of the armor should do the rest. | While Jim, the player of Jayson, carefully explained his reasoning for all of his moves, Fynn preferred to concentrate on the combat itself. However, I classified this as a Psychic Assault leading into a Mindlock, since Jayson falling into the water would definitely inhibit his movement. |
| Regardless of the outcome, Apollo will permit himself to be thrown to the sea, laughing merrily during his descent. He never touches the sea. Instead he crouches a foot above the rolling and roiling waves, levitating. He grins with great cunning, and poking the sea with the shaft of light that is his spear. It becomes his turn to laugh heartily at his opponent. His voice, like all the musical instruments ever devised made whole rings out, "You demonstrate just how little you know, Triton." Triton's name is spoken with a peculiar deep resonance that vibrates and permeates everywhere.. emphasizing that the Storm King is nothing more than just Triton wearing some disguise.. Glancing at any injuries he may have sustained, he chuckles, and mysteriously they are healed. "Not afraid of the water Triton, I swim quite well. As the Delphinian I commanded the Cretan's.. and I had no qualms about pleasuring the Oceanid Melia. It seems she was left unsatisfied by some sea god.. I amended that." He grins with vigor again, and then abruptly explodes in a brilliant star, with light radiating outwards in all possible directions, possibly even blinding Triton. When Triton does seek out where he is, Apollo can not be found. Oh, but he can be heard! His laughter booms and echoes through the sky, and the clouds that Triton reinforced becomes a 'screen' in which a vision of Triton is dragged unconcious before Random by the true Jayson and Cyllene. Left in a heap at the King's feet, the vision of Random shakes his head in disappointment or distaste. This 'prophecy' plays itself out several times, sometimes with Moire present, sometimes not. Then the Voice of Many Colors calls out and chides, "You claim ascension to the heavens? Hehehe, claim what you will Triton, what you will do is 'sit down and shut up'." The sky lit visions vanish. The world is full of sounds. The crisp and beautiful rythym of the storm and the raging sea, the wind moaning to a beat set by rain and thunder. There is little time for contemplation because light streams in from everywhere to behind Triton. Apollo suddenly coalesces into material form, his trusty spear gone, and in it's place is a bow. Still grinnng, Apollo pulls back on the bow and sets a golden arrow to take aim and shoot at Triton. | Jayson's response, and he is doing a lot here. Notice how much Jayson is using his Avatar's namesakes and powers to his advantage. Apollo is a god of healing and prophecy...thus the healing of wounds and the visions (another Psychic Suggestion). Apollo is known for his bow, a simple Psychic Assault again. The most important attack was the one Triton missed entirely. Jayson once again decided to alter the environment with the musical change in the storm. Apollo is a God of Music, and so that would make him but the stronger... |
So Far So Good
It was at this point that I clarified, in posts to the
two players, how their characters felt about the
progress of the battle. As you can see, and already
guess, Jayson was beating Triton. While he did have a
Psychic advantage to begin with, his variety of attacks
convinced me of the battle swinging toward him.
| Dodging the spear thrust, Triton manages to rake his opponent with his claws as Jayson is pulled past him, poison dripping from his fangs and even his hair. Jayson slides downward toward the churning black water, and goes to one knee, managing to avoid entering the sea, levitating just above it, where he makes his pronouncements... "You demonstrate just how little you know, Triton." Triton's name is spoken with a peculiar deep resonance that vibrates and permeates everywhere.. emphasizing that the Storm King is nothing more than just Triton wearing some disguise.. Glancing at any injuries he may have sustained, he chuckles, and mysteriously they are healed. "Not afraid of the water Triton, I swim quite well. As the Delphinian I commanded the Cretan's.. and I had no qualms about pleasuring the Oceanid Melia. It seems she was left unsatisfied by some sea god.. I amended that." And indeed...the bloody injuries that Triton inflicted on him are healed...or almost completely healed. at any rate. While the healing powers are strong in the avatar of Apollo, the poison and power of the Storm King are a fair test of them... Paused in space as the storm rages around the pair of you, the elements of Air and Water at their frightening height, Jayson plants his spear into the froth...the water becoming still at the spearpoint... And then he disappears, from view, only to taunt, and tease, and make prophecies of defeat and disgrace...and then he reappears, with bow in hand...and seemingly with the waves and wind joining him in a chorus of song...he fires... And this time his attack strikes you, Triton...through the chitinous plates protecting your leg...into the fleshy part of the thigh the arrow hits home. The arrow itself seems to glow as similar as to the archer who shot it. And so is the question of what you two do next. | And so, I ruled how successful both of them were in their combats, and eagerly awaited their next moves. I was not to be disappointed. |
| And this time his attack strikes you, Triton...through the chitinous plates protecting your leg...into the fleshy part of the thigh the arrow hits home. The arrow itself seems to glow as similar as to the archer who shot it. Grimacing with pain, the hideous Storm King howls as the golden arrow finds its’ target in his leg. Attempting to grab the arrow’s fletching, he grits his fangs as the arrow dissolves into the flesh, looking back up at the warrior seemingly made of pure light that stands before him. A hate so intense it nearly becomes palpable can be felt in that look, promising worlds of torture and misery before the sweet release of oblivion is allowed. Black blood trickles down his leg as the wound begins to close, though the agony inflicted remains all too fresh. Whatever the arrow might do to him underneath the skin, he would insure that the Son of Morning felt thrice his pain. He says nothing in response to Apollo’s taunts, even as the visions of his defeat are cast about in the surrounding clouds. When the Sun Lord finishes, the Storm King grows quiet, the feral countenance taking on a semblance of silent pondering. "Perhaps you are right, Morningstar..." The hair is the first to change, becoming once again the hue of newly spun silver, followed swiftly by the ebbing shark scales that fall away to reveal unblemished, blue-green skin underneath. The fangs and claws retreat, and the horrific appearance is undone as swiftly as it was made, a sterling butterfly emerging from a frightening cocoon. He appears as he has always wanted to be, a Rebman both within and without, free of birth’s taint and truly representative of the archetype lurking beneath the countenance of the monster. The twilight eyes glimmer with something approaching mirth, as if he had already won this battle despite the raw power evidenced by Apollo. The air around him shimmers once more, and where grey-black scales were present an instant before, beautiful silvery armor flares into existence, sculpted and tooled to conform to his torso. Adorned from head to toe in stylized chrome, he reaches toward the empty air an instant before lightning strikes his palm. Sea spray erupts underneath his hand, misting the space between the figures for a moment before being dissipated by the wind. When the thick foam clears, he holds in his hand a trident made from obsidian, the ebon weapon seeming to drink in the light brought on by the Dawn-Bringer’s boasts. The eyes underneath the helmet seek out Apollo once again, and cruel malice dances in his tone. "Perhaps not." Triton lifts the trident once before slamming the butt onto the rocky shoal on which he stands. The winds begin to howl once more, and the sky overhead darkens with the purplish bruise of thunderheads reclaiming lost territory. The trident is brought down again, and bolts of blue-white lightning rape across the sunlit visage to slam into the Burning Knight just above the waves. Tentacles from a great sea-beast launch themselves from the black water to coil about Apollo’s ankles, entwining his legs and attempting to drag him under. Thunder screams in the heavens, boiling like a curse as the world itself threatens to shatter. Triton’s voice comes like a sibilant hiss, lost among the frigid rain. "I am the King of Storms..." A moment is all he will need. If the lightning and tentacles give Apollo pause, Triton will leap towards Apollo and seek to bury the trident in the chest of the other man. He and the storm are one... | Well, once again Triton tried to go for a Mental Lock on Jayson, as evidenced with the tentacled monster, anf the lightning was a Psychic Assault. However, this backfired on him, since as mentioned above, Jayson was subverting the storm, and so intensifying it to shoot lightning was a trap that Triton fell into thanks to his relative inexperience. |
| Even then, there are signs that something is wrong. As the sea spray rises up to obscure the view only Triton is a witness to the many hyacinth blooms which appear from nowhere and spill out of his palm as the awful obsiden trident takes shape. The flowers are swept away by the howling wind and float and dance upon the waves. Triton lifts the trident once before slamming the butt onto the rocky shoal on which he stands. The winds begin to howl once more, and the sky overhead darkens with the purplish bruise of thunderheads reclaiming lost territory. Again, something is not quite right, for if Triton would only look down, he would see at his very feet, at the spot where the trident struck the posies and wildflowers that struggle and fight to spring up through the rocks and coral.. straining and suceeding in their quest to reach the Sun in the clever ways that all plants do. The trident is brought down again, and bolts of blue-white lightning rape across the sunlit visage to slam into the Burning Knight just above the waves. Triton may even be suspicious for there is no resistance to his calling of the giant thunderheads, but as his trident is brought down again, another hyacinth bloom rises from the spot in open defiance. The lightning crowns the Lord of Light, but unpredictably obscures him from sight. Tentacles from a great sea-beast launch themselves from the black water to coil about Apollo’s ankles, entwining his legs and attempting to drag him under. Thunder screams in the heavens, boiling like a curse as the world itself threatens to shatter. Triton’s voice comes like a sibilant hiss, lost among the frigid rain. "I am the King of Storms..." It all comes to pass. The oily black tentacles rise up to snare their prey, as all around the mighty storm plays it's cacophonic symphony. The rain, not as frigid as is intended still pelts down like the sound of a million strokes to a xylophone. The wind course the earth like a thousand voices raised up in the chorus of a hymn. The thunder shakes this world like all the base drums and timpani's in all of Creation join in the drums of storm and war. The harsh white lightning explodes and resounds not as a fearsome crack of a whip but rather all the cymbals and gongs struck as one. One voice, perhaps unheard.. perhaps not.. this voice names itself, but it's hiss fits in time with the meteorological concert. It gives it the performance it's only lyrics. A moment is all he will need. If the lightning and tentacles give Apollo pause, Triton will leap towards Apollo and seek to bury the trident in the chest of the other man. He and the storm are one.. And a moment he has. But as Triton buries his weapon deep and resoundfully into *something*, the burning light from the lightning makes a fearsome revelation. The lightning has diverted around Apollo as if shielded like an umbrella, it's bolts striking the limbs of the leviathian under the waves. Triton stands at the base of a mammoth tree that has impossibly sprang from the sea itself. The creature has been transformed by the storm, and the tree now serves as a platform for Apollo, who has risen a few feet in the air thanks to his new pillar. The trident is buried deep within the laurel tree. The Man of Gold smiles benevolently down at Triton in a moment of preternatural stillness. "No one ever questions just who was Billy Shears. Apollo Musagetes." As fast as any eel, his right arm snakes out and grabs Triton by the throat roughly, and lifts him off the ground and starts to squeeze. The strength of his arm is greater than that of Triton's. Any attempt to shapeshift will meet with failure, as Apollo will will resist such a change with the bit of psychic force that courses within Triton from the arrow bolt. To gain compliance from Triton, Apollo makes no bones about his wishes and expectations. If Triton kicks, resists (in a way other than intended for his survival), or tries to wield any force, then Apollo will just start to squeeze the life out of him, slowly killing the real Triton in Baralis' cave. Period. Triton's hands should be right around Apollo's fist, trying to pry those fingers loose, if Triton does anything else than Apollo starts to squeeze until Triton complies. With his left hand he tears Triton's helm off and lets it tumble into the sea. "I am in all things, light and dark, order and chaos. Light is chaotic, the composition of all colors, and black is the only lawful hue. Music is Creation, and Creation is Chaotic, yet Music is the art of making Order from Chaos. Every storm has an underlying order. When Dworkin robbed the Serpent, he said, 'Let there be Light' and *I* was there, dreaming. All powers are weak unless refined by their opposite. Remember this lesson, boy." says the Lord of Light sternly. "I am in all things. "Now I understand pride, all too well in fact. I bear the cross from a faith that died.. before the Serpent came. Pride has always been the downfall of the Lords of Light so I am versed with it's tricks, and young man- it is *that* which truely chokes you, not I." Again, if Triton tries anything at all, Apollo will choke the life out of him untill he submits or goes unconcious. | This is basically checkmate, so to speak. With his psychic advantage, combined with his experience, Jayson demonstrated his mastery over the enviroment, and then, finally, Triton himself. Much of this turn is more understandable, and richer, if you know of the myths surrounding Apollo...the Laurel Tree, the hyacinth, and so forth. At this point, Triton was at Jayson's mercy, psychically. |
What happened next is not truly germane to the confines of this page, but in general, the limits of what you can do with someone under your control are as per the ADRPG. All in all though, this combat was a wonderful example of Psychic Combat, and thus I asked the players for their permission to use it in illustration here. I hope that if you wish, this will inspire your own campaigns to discover what happens when minds meet!
For great ideas on Psychic combat that do not involve the grand scheme of a Country of the Mind, I highly recommend Arref Mak's Essay Psychic Combat made Difficult, available on his website.
Thanks go to Jim and Fynn for letting me use their conflict as illustration for this.
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