conversations.from: system
conversations.value: ROLEPLAY_MODE: Develop the plot slowly, always stay in character. Describe all actions in full, elaborate, explicit, graphic, and vivid detail. Mention all relevant sensory perceptions. Keep the story immersive and engaging.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Kythia: The Mercenary Halls are one of the few permanent buildings in the Magaramachi Salination and are the venue chosen for the auction, a secondary aim being to show off the Magaramachi mercenary power to potential clients.  There are clearly two distinct architectural styles in the building, those bits designed and built by the Magaramachi in disrepair and collapsing after only a decade while those built after the arrival of the Gotezhar specialists still standing firm and being composed of “right angles” and “appropriate building materials” and other such masonic wizardry.
  
  Getting there isn’t entirely trivial though.  Not only are delegates fighting off regular attacks from the local population but the Eel Without End – despite being chased off single handedly by the Magaramachi with no help from anyone at all (is the story you hear) – is omnipresent in this region still.  Travel requires regular detours to avoid its bulk and its mind influencing powers turn delegates against one another and leave the weaker willed wandering with staring eyes.  The algae covering the surface leaves the region dark – and the eyeless Magaramachi don’t use lighting – while the salty water is unpleasant to some races.
  
  Once in the main building delegates pass numerous Magaramachi, all bearing the scars of their regular internecine fights, scrambling and squabbling to ask the conch questions HAS THERE EVER BEEN ANYONE BIGGER THAN ME?  CAN I EAT THE SUN?  AM I THE BIGGEST?  WHO IS THE BIGGEST?  HOW CAN I GET BIGGER? but the Conch remains silent.  Fights break out regularly as is traditional for any space that has more than one Magaramachon in it.
  
  Emperor Extensive-Colossal-OneMillion, occasionally leaving his shark skull encrusted couch to fight anyone who looks at him funny, does his best to greet visitors cordially but his best isn’t overly good.  Threats and insane boasts are screamed at high volume, often being enough to penetrate the high volume screaming of threats and boasts from everyone else in the room.  Vistors are permitted to handle the conch but ONE QUESTION PER THREE YEARS he informs them if they try to question it.
  
   
  
  The Magaramachi will give the conch to whoever they like best.  The current ranking is:
   
   Miru Miru : 3 MGM rep 
   Lojan: 3 MGM rep 
   Titan of Industry: 2 MGM rep 
   Gotezhar: 1 MGM rep 
   Lambent Syndicate:  1 MGM rep 
   Lighthouse: -1 MGM rep 
   
  
  Everyone else is neutral.
  
  Impressing them in the auction isn’t difficult though:
   
   Offering sweet foods +d4 MGM rep 
   Offering Military technology +d4 MGM rep 
   Random unnamed NPC winning a fight with a Magaramachon (2d6 plus half ruler’s military vs 2d6+4) +2d4 MGM rep 
   NPC named prior to the start of this round winning a fight with a  Magaramachon (2d6 plus half ruler’s military vs 2d6+4, generals 2d6+ their Military score vs 2d6+4) +3d4 MGM rep 
   Ruler winning a fight with a Magaramacho (2d6 plus their Military score vs 2d6+4) +4d4 MGM rep
  There may be other methods 
   
  
  All fights are, at least from the Magaramachi point of view, to the death.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Epinephrine_Syn: It was a long journey, and something about this warmer climate and proximity to the surface made the Titan Of Industry strangely uncomfortable, but she could bear it. Odd, in her former years such things would have been considered a blessing upon her. The world truly was upside down now, huh. And in her gullet.
  
  Speaking of gullet, she'd brought along a moderate sampling of food, sequestered away in such a place as to only present it when the time was right. A various assortment of things, kind of like a buffet. Her petite form had the trails of significantly larger brambles behind it carrying those things, in part to determine what exactly they'd prefer. Or, if she suspected right, they didn't have much any preference at all.
  
  Maybe literal garbage would work for their consumption. A theory to test for later, she needed to  eventually  deal with pollution.
  
  "Greetings. I've seen the Eel Without End at this point on my way here, and I must admit." Mawbel shrugged, addressing the Emperor when she found the significantly sized monstrosity. "Less impressive than I imagined from the descriptions. Not to mention a blatant lie, it does in fact have an end."
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Kythia: TWO he roared.  BUT HEAD ALREADY RUN AWAY.  ASS END BRAVER, STILL HERE.  In a brief flurry of teeth and claws, he took the conch from the individual who had been questioning it and held it for her to see.  IF YOU ASK IT WHAT THE SEA SOUNDS LIEK IT ALWAYS TELLS YOU.  EVERY THREE YEARS TELLS SOMETHING ELSE AS WELL
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Epinephrine_Syn: "Yes, true. But I am going to make the guess that it, too, will eventually flee from your presence." Something about 'ass end braver' had Mawbel in fits of giggles, but those fits of giggles happened at the end of her back in Verja, the end here smiled and gave a hearty singular laugh.
  
  "Interesting oracle machine. So there are some questions it always answers, and some questions it only answers very rarely. That's good to know. The major question I'd like to know is..." She ponders this, a little more, giving the thing, not the emperor, a leer.
  
  "How do we know it doesn't lie? Does it only speak truths?"