Beastyle

"Welcome to my maze," said the rabbit. "It took quite a bit of work."

"This is amazing," remarked Avatea, looking around. The rabbit nodded.

"Well, come along! This way!"

He led us to a wall perforated with square holes, indicating that we should enter. Each hole was its own narrow tunnel, with branching pathways, round-the-bends, straight drops and loops that took you right back where you started. We tried as best we could to navigate the wall (which was quite like a big stone block of Swiss cheese), eventually coming out the other side, face-to-face with high walls stretching floor to ceiling: a giant maze snaking across the floor.

Again, the rabbit smiled. "Follow the barrels," he said. "Without them, I think even I would be lost!"

"Barrels?"

"The ones in the walls!"

"How can a barrel be in a wall?" I asked. (At this, the rabbit bounded off)


We traversed the twisting corridors, the rabbit hurrying on in front of us, disappearing 'round corners and down (or up) narrow chutes and chimneys. We three split up, winding and winding down the path, retracing our steps back from dead ends, turning this way and that way, and every which way, trying to mind the landmark barrels. (Which I found to be a rather strange sight upon first seeing them! Imagine, a barrel, stuck into a wall! How can a barrel be a barrel if half of it is missing?)

The maze was not only horizontal, but vertical: at the exit of one maze I found myself in a library of sorts, with stairs portruding from a wall. "These stairs go nowhere!" I huffed aloud; but then, on thinking about it, "Of course! You walk UP stairs." And a jump put me into the next area.

This went on for some time, the areas looking curiouser and curiouser. There were walls of different colors, impossible things: ceilings without BEING ceilings; they were floors, or maybe they weren't anything at all, for if you looked up you could see right through them as if they weren't there. (But they most certainly were, if you tried to bump your head against them!) Time seemed to lose meaning in the maze, and with each step disorienting me a little more I was certain that the further I went, the madder I would become.

After some indeterminable amount of time the walls seemed to open up, as though the magic holding together the maze was lessening; stone blocks littered the floor, and in some places hung suspended in the air. Ahead was the rabbit, standing underneath a grand display of celestial bodies dangling from the ceiling. "You're almost at the end," he said.


We followed him down one more long hall, straight and unadorned. Through a doorway lay the center of the maze: a great room of glowing green crystal (Or perhaps it was solidified gelatin?) and criss-crossing arches, with a grand stairway lit by torches dividing the center of the room. A throne sat at the top of the stairs.

"This is really incredible," said Zwillinger. The rabbit nodded his thanks, and stirred his tea.


It was time to go. We headed out through a chamber that led back into the first room. We thanked the rabbit for the tour and stepped back out through the portal.

Thinking back on it, the talking rabbit and his maze may have been nothing more than a curious dream brought on by a bright and blustery day, but the strangeness and wonderful complexity of the rabbit's maze was an experience I shan't soon forget.


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"Welcome to my maze," said the rabbit. "It took quite a bit of work."

"This is amazing," remarked Avatea, looking around. The rabbit nodded.

"Well, come along! This way!"

He led us to a wall perforated with square holes, indicating that we should enter. Each hole was its own narrow tunnel, with branching pathways, round-the-bends, straight drops and loops that took you right back where you started. We tried as best we could to navigate the wall (which was quite like a big stone block of Swiss cheese), eventually coming out the other side, face-to-face with high walls stretching floor to ceiling: a giant maze snaking across the floor.

Again, the rabbit smiled. "Follow the barrels," he said. "Without them, I think even I would be lost!"

"Barrels?"

"The ones in the walls!"

"How can a barrel be in a wall?" I asked. (At this, the rabbit bounded off)

We traversed the twisting corridors, the rabbit hurrying on in front of us, disappearing 'round corners and down (or up) narrow chutes and chimneys. We three split up, winding and winding down the path, retracing our steps back from dead ends, turning this way and that way, and every which way, trying to mind the landmark barrels. (Which I found to be a rather strange sight upon first seeing them! Imagine, a barrel, stuck into a wall! How can a barrel be a barrel if half of it is missing?)

The maze was not only horizontal, but vertical: at the exit of one maze I found myself in a library of sorts, with stairs portruding from a wall. "These stairs go nowhere!" I huffed aloud; but then, on thinking about it, "Of course! You walk UP stairs." And a jump put me into the next area.

This went on for some time, the areas looking curiouser and curiouser. There were walls of different colors, impossible things: ceilings without BEING ceilings; they were floors, or maybe they weren't anything at all, for if you looked up you could see right through them as if they weren't there. (But they most certainly were, if you tried to bump your head against them!) Time seemed to lose meaning in the maze, and with each step disorienting me a little more I was certain that the further I went, the madder I would become.

After some indeterminable amount of time the walls seemed to open up, as though the magic holding together the maze was lessening; stone blocks littered the floor, and in some places hung suspended in the air. Ahead was the rabbit, standing underneath a grand display of celestial bodies dangling from the ceiling. "You're almost at the end," he said.


We followed him down one more long hall, straight and unadorned. Through a doorway lay the center of the maze: a great room of glowing green crystal (Or perhaps it was solidified gelatin?) and criss-crossing arches, with a grand stairway lit by torches dividing the center of the room. A throne sat at the top of the stairs.

"This is really incredible," said Zwillinger. The rabbit nodded his thanks, and stirred his tea.


It was time to go. We headed out through a chamber that led back into the first room. We thanked the rabbit for the tour and stepped back out through the portal.

Thinking back on it, the talking rabbit and his maze may have been nothing more than a curious dream brought on by a bright and blustery day, but the strangeness and wonderful complexity of the rabbit's maze was an experience I shan't soon forget.

If you don't think so now, you will later on. Syrio Forel is awesome. The casting for him is really good.

It is quite literally pages long. You have to be very specific with genies, y'know.

I have, in the extremely unlikely case that I obtain the favor of a genie in this lifetime, drafted the wording for a single wish that grants me omnipotence with absolutely zero repercussions, no matter how malevolent the djinn might be.

I do not need "more wishes." A single wish will serve.

As for "cheating," well, that's the point of creating multiple worlds, isn't it? You can set up certain restrictions upon yourself and play out infinite lifetimes on infinite worlds in infinite combinations. "In this world I can do magic, but only on a Tuesday." "In this world I can fly, but never after 5pm."

I am consistently amazed at ways I've seen players use costume parts that are "meant" to be one thing, but through player ingenuity are repurposed to fit with their own character concepts. I'm looking forward to seeing all the great steampunk and non-steampunk uses that players make with this booster!

He plays a much less raspy Megatron in Transformers Prime.

Indeed. And for humans, there were, thankfully, only two.