A Still Moment

[Vavutsikarios]

Time goes on in our material plane but for Sundren it has stopped.
Our characters, without realizing it, are paused in the middle of a step, a word, a sword thrust or spellcasting.
Lets take some screenshots of this moment.
What are our characters doing right now, at this, probably insignificant -as they don’t realize the time stop- for them, moment?




Alex is at the Talent & Balance theater, in the middle of a conversation with Lida Angelfen, who showed interest in playing a part at the Muhabehe.

Here are the last lines of their dialog:

Alex: ..And there was this other barber, heh, I dont remember his name, heh, and they used to make farting competitions when they were, heh, shaving people, heh.

Lida: Um.. ok

Alex: And then, heh, one day, on fart number 28 I think, ehm, Yura did a, ehm, ehm, a shit! And lost the competition! Heh, that was a fun story!

Lida: *makes a grimace at the story* But I only want to be an evil goblin, I don’t want people to think I farted...

Alex: No no! You will not! No need to fart really, see? You can make the sound with your mouth!

And then time stopped...

[TheBrogueadier]

Aww..

My two PCs are probably doing something rather dull:

Giacomo was sat on the cliffs next to the light house in Port Avanthyr. Part way through a drawing of the port he'd paused realising that the place was nothing but a giant tongue, the last part of a huge mouth who's teeth sat in ranges out into the sea.
The people and goods that made it past the chewing of those teeth landed here, to be flicked back and swallowed by the town-tongue, absorbed into the country like nutrients and distributed to repair the countrys body; some became the ever flexing muscles of Viridal and the hills, others were used by the minds of the librarys, univercities and groves.

Giacomo shook his head, clearing the image.. he smiled as he reinked the pens nib and looked back out over the port. The port was a port, nothing more, and the land was just land, not bone or muscle or mind.

His pen was back on the paper when time stopped.

---

Murat looked out over the barricades and down into the lush greens of the Viridal forest. He kept being drawn back here; the rumors, the smell, the sounds; they sang to his bones and offered peace.
He glanced back at the nearby guards who were deep in conversation, no-one else seemed to be looking his way. He reached into his shirt and wrapped his hand around the talisman that hung inside. A memento from his first hunt with the other would be novices of the old grove. He closed his eyes and whispered a silent prayer, a reverent kiss to the talisman sealed the prayer. He glanced at it before tucking it away. A hand, it's worn fingers gripped at the air like talons, eternally grasping for nothing. He smiled, remembering the night of the hunt, and how he'd gone from prey to predator to secure his place at the groves fires.

He looked back to the forest. Somewhere out there were the blessed of Malar, gifted sons and daughters who danced the line between man and beast and struck fear into the hearts of the ignorant and heterical. No doupt with the rumors of such a brood in the forest a force would soon be gathered to hunt them down and wipe them out. This couldn't be allowed to happen. Helm's followers would fight hammer and sword to save their own, and so would he: Tooth and nail to defend the blessed.

As the thoughts and anger raced through his mind, time stopped.