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Hidden 1 yr ago 1 yr ago Post by Ti
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Event: Memento Mori (Eshiran's Eulogists). | Location: Various.







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Hidden 1 yr ago Post by Force and Fury
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There had been a feast, of sorts. Everyone had attended. Classa was, unsurprisingly, one of the stars, for the little centaur girl had charmed all by her plucky precociousness and, later, her levelheaded maturity. She was showered with gifts and well-wishes, and she thanked everyone sincerely, but there was a soberness about her now that one would not expect from a child. She was happy that they'd won, but she was also uncanny, in a sense, and... she knew it.

“I think, after all this,” she admitted to Tku and Zarina, “I'd kinda just like to be... a kid, again.” She shrugged awkwardly. “I'll be a grownup someday and I'll have years for that, but I'll never be a kid again. It was a condition I put on my wish before. I hope it can go back.”

A good number of hearts were broken by the admission. Classa had, in a sense, sacrificed her childhood so that An Zenui might stand. Among them was Jascuan, and he sat mostly in silence, his ears flicking, once in a while, as he took in his surroundings and the warmth of them, drifting in and out of sleep. In truth, at his advanced age, the happenings of the past few days had taken almost everything out of him, but all was... if not exactly right, then at least far better than it had been in his lifetime. There was genuine hope that things might change. The city had been damaged but not destroyed. Hundreds had died, but tens of thousands had lived. Here, in the winter of his life, the great fight he had prepared a lifetime for had finally happened and, if he had not played the starring role, he had at least played his part.

Fiske, promising if fractious young man that he was, had played a role too and, during one of Jascuan's brief moments of wakefulness, the pair exchanged some teasing words. “I am too old and tired,” he replied. “You would win.” He reached out and handed the boy a small, folded paper. On it was a unique insignia: one Fiske may have seen before in passing, but not quite recognized. “On the night of five moons, go to the shelter on the Tip. Show this to the person you will meet there and your training might continue.”

Soon after, he drifted off once again. He was at peace with it: with al of it. The stuzets were finally free, the corruption at least partly purged from society, and justice of the blade delivered to those who had done evil. He had no fight left and it was just as well that none was needed anymore. His children were safe and happy, their futures secured. His eldest would be taking over the farm in good order. His youngest was a woman grown and would be heading to the great school across the ocean with her new friends. Josca would go with her for a time to help with the adjustment. It was, he thought, feeling the warm rays of the setting sun on his skin, a happy ending.

Benedetto, too, was something of a removed figure, until Ayla came to speak with him, fresh off of a conversation with Samaxi and her elder brothers. To her surprise, perhaps, he hugged her back, and tightly. "Thank you, Ayla, for your help and..." He trailed off for a second. "Never stop being good, okay?" the separated. "Never stop being a light for other people. You have more power that way than you ever will by destroying. It took me ten years in the wilderness of the past to learn that, but you got me started on that path." He swallowed and his face became pinched. His eyes shone and he took a couple of deep breaths. "Fuck.... this wasn't supposed to be hard. I wasn't supposed to care."

Then, Fiske was apologizing to him. Benny shook his head. "Fiskel, you little shit." He sighed. "I've done worse - way worse, for reasons less pure." He shrugged. "Whatever's in your past that makes you angry, I hope you get to the bottom of it. I hope you figure it out." Benny squeezed his shoulder, perhaps fondly, but always a little too hard.

Desmond had struggled with his own goodbyes, and Benedetto knew it well. The sun was turning fat and golden as it edged toward the horizon, and it began to strike everyone that this was it: this was goodbye. Stuzéts - now calling themselves sirui hé - had gathered first by the tens, and then by the hundreds. Nearly all who had called An Zenui home had decided to depart. The seven children of Sazan-Betai and Stela-Zomé were among them, old enough to understand what was happening but too young to comprehend it. Desmond took a moment with their parents, and both embraced him with firm handshakes and greatful thank yous, for the distant past that they were headed towards was a strange and uncertain place, and his gifts would surely help them survive. From behind her mother, Loci gazed up at him evaluatively, eyes flicking towards the burrito and the shotgun, before she decided to scamper away.

Cazelui hugged him deeply. "I will... remember to turn the safety off before shooting," she laugh-cried. "And I will never forget you. Thank you for... showing us: for saving us." Poto-Mits came to embrace him as well, and the three sirrahi Desmond and Tku had taken the fall for earlier come to thank him and, really, all of the others. They had freed themselves, but these eight foreigners had been the spark for it all. Finally, came Egosto-Alguo, and he settled the hat atop his head. He had said nothing during his interrogation. He had remained silent. Now, he had the hat. He nodded a thanks and gave Desmond his word that this was how it was always meant to be.

Then, as the sun sat atop the horizon like a great, overripe peach, there came a portal. It sparkled and swirled. Benedetto stood beside it. He had already said his goodbyes to Zarina, to Ayla, to Marceline, Fiske, Yansee, and Evander. He and Desmond eyed each other for a moment, for they were both old friends and old rivals at this point: more similar than either would ever have wanted to admit. "Keep fighting the fight, Desmond." It was all he could manage. He was, even now, having his doubts about the necessity of the course he had chosen. "Read about me in your history books, okay?"

He turned to the sirui hé. "You all know what comes next," he announced. Their goodbyes were finished. Many took last, anxious looks back out at their home: the only one they'd ever known. Final, rushed goodbyes were spared for the humans and cazenax they would be leaving behind. "It's time for us to go." But, then there came something unexpected. Evander stepped forward. "I think I'm going to go with you, actually: just for a little. Just for a year, to help you get settled." He shook his head. "Can't leave you with just Benny here, can I?"

At least a couple others tried to dissuade him, but most accepted it. He was implacable, as he had always been. Instead, they said unexpected goodbyes. In theory, he would return. In practice, who could say? Life is the experience of the unexpected, after all. One by one, they disappeared: Egosto-Alguo, leading them through, Poto-Mits and Cazelui, Stela and Sazan shepherding the kids along. Then, finally, Evander and Benedetto. All at once, the portal wavered and winked out of existence and it was dark and cooling. Zarina began to feel her expanded form deflating. Marceline and Tennaxi wrapped shivering arms around themselves.






Then, a new portal appeared. From it emerged Karan Harrachora, Arch-Zeno of Ersand'Enise. He regarded them for a moment, evaluatively, before nodding. "In one week, you did more good for the world than most people do in a lifetime," he said simply, a mysterious pouch hanging from his hip. The Cazenax watched warily before easing. Classa eyed the strange man with suspicion, her more childlike nature seeming to have returned, as if the effects of her wish had worn off now that its paramount lesson was learned. "Come with me now, back home." He smiled in faint satisfaction, taking a deep breath of the desert air through his nostrils. His gaze fell upon Tennaxi, Samaxi, and Yansee. "Oh, and you too, or... you three," he joked. "You show much promise: far too much to be anywhere else but at Ersand'Enise."

The portal yawned open. Classa hugged Zarina and Tku one last time before Zox picked her up and held her as if she was a little doll. He bid farewells of his own: brief but meaningful, while Naxos chattered on, dabbing tears with a kerchief. Josca, Buinats, Cozoban, and Cozezast did not have anything too longing to say. They would be there in a couple of weeks for the Trials. Jascuan, the old man who had started it all, slept peacefully as they said goodbye.


Primitive, Act Four: Fin.


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Hidden 1 yr ago Post by Jumbus
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Jumbus

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Sofia Gabriella Valier, a young girl of modest nobility, felt like crying. For reasons beyond her grasp, her parents had packed their estate in the Revidian countryside for a newly built manor in Ersand’Ernise. As if the crowds weren’t enough, their new home was situated in a section called Mudville that certainly lived up to its name. Her father must have been out of his mind, on the assumption he had any choice in the move.

She bumped between an apathetic stranger and an apathetic stranger who lacked teeth, neither taking notice. Sofia longed for the long green fields of her old home, the one she had been at all her life. She missed the farmhands whom she had come to call friends after finally overcoming her anxieties, missed the chestnut mare she raised from a pony into her most reliable companion. Now she could only think about how much her father made over the sale.

And yet, that wasn’t why her tears were beginning to well up, no. She had lost sight of her parents in the commotion of the Mudville town hub. It was a scary enough concept for any nine-year-old girl to go through, but she had only been in Ersand’Enise for a week and had no clue how to find the way home.

Any calls were lost to the wind, drowned by constant commotion. The people paid little notice to her. Her status meant nothing. Did they not care about a lost girl on the verge of tears? For the first time in her life, Sofia Gabriella Valier felt truly alone.

She listened out only to receive the distinct sounds of a hammer on anvil. Two to be precise. The cold heartbeat of a place she very much wanted to escape.

Clank clank… … … clank clank… … …

It was hopeless.



A sudden flash of light from above caused Sofia to shoot their gaze skyward. It had not been a flash of light but rather a golden flare and one that was growing by the second. She had to avert her gaze, not just because of the flare’s candescence but also because of its position close to the sun. A mix of her existing fears and temporary blindness had her frozen in place while the others around her fled.

The thud of a blade stabbed into the dirt as the dazzling flare landed not two metres away from her. With a quick look over her surroundings, the people who had once filled the town square had made a makeshift circle of ‘safe distance’ around the pillar of light. As if they all suddenly agreed that a solid ten metres was enough to evade anything that was about to happen. It was just her left to be judged by the alien presence.

“HA… HA HA HA!” a mirthful laughter carried throughout the town square and cut through any chatter in the surrounding circle. While it sounded human enough, the power was far from it. Perhaps to a practising mage, it would be apparent the voice was amplified. But neither Sofia nor most of the crowd were.

The chime of a great, big bell rang and the pillar of light pulsed outward, quickly disproving the ten-metre safety rule as the light engulfed everything in sight. Many tried to run but could never escape it on foot, let alone having to push through the gathered crowds. But not a single person was harmed. It instead filled them with a comforting warmth that soothed the masses. They no longer looked on in fear but curiosity as the flash dissipated.

Sofia was the first to see the figure beyond the shimmering wave. A spear stood with its tip planted into the earth, rising at least two metres to a hand that gripped the very end. The figure was performing a one-handed stand to a combined height of about four metres.

Before she could make out any features, it released his grip and flipped downward. Its foot collided with the spear in a kick sending it spinning upward. The short acrobatic show ended with the figure, now clearly a masked man, having landed and the spear sliding gracefully into the holster on his back next to a lyre.

Landed wouldn’t be the correct word, Sofia thought, because despite making similar motions, he was still floating a few feet off the ground.

The masked man certainly encouraged the imagination in the way he dressed. His golden spear shone behind large, flowing robes of yellow silk with highlights of orange and black. Despite the quantity of fabric, it hardly looked like it weighed the man down. They instead looked weightless, as though the rules of gravity need not apply to them.

But the most distinguishing feature was a gaudy sun mask that covered most of the man's face down to a bit below the nose. His mouth displayed a large, toothy grin. It looked as though the man could burst into laughter again at any moment.

“AH HA HAAAaaaa!” Still floating, he reclined into a laid-back position as he surveyed the crowd. “Please, please there is no need to fear.” The man announced in a regal address. “The apology is mine! I have travelled long to be here.”

“I come from the great belfry in the sky that counts each day. I seek to win the trials, so in this city, I shall stay.”

“I am the Sun King, he who looks over all. And I serve you people, or so I recall.”


Admiration and anxiety were both rife within the crowd. Everyone looked upon this ‘Sun King’ enraptured, some with joy and others with fear. Sofia was the latter on both accounts, which did not escape the monarch’s notice. She froze when his attention on her caused him to lose his smile.

The Sun King had made the decision to grace the ground with his feet and close the distance between himself and the lost girl. “A girl with no friends, no family can be ever so lonely.” He continued to address the crowd but then turned directly to her. “How would you like your very own pony?”

The smile returned to his face, but the confidence and honesty in his voice gave it a disarming quality. There was no way he could be hiding something like a pony given his bombastic entrance. She felt silly; she still hadn’t wiped away her tears from earlier. But Sofia believed him, at least enough to nod in reply.

“I am only as good as the people allow. Please, everyone, start a clap… … now.”

There was a short moment of silence before one person started clapping. Then another started and another until only Sofia left yet to join. Once the rhythm of the claps picked up, Sun King put his hands together, one on top of the other. It seemed to be an innocuous and small gesture, but even someone uneducated in magic like Sofia could see incredible energy converging between his palms.

Another flash of light flared out, signalling the group to stop. The Sun King held out his hand upon which pranced a palm-sized pony dressed in a royal purple mane. It trotted in a circle to the distant sound of the anvils.

Clank clank… … … clank clank… … …

Trot trot… … … trot trot… … …

Sofia was shocked in pleasant surprise. She had never seen a horse like this, or one even five times its size for that matter. But she gratefully accepted the Sun King’s gift anyway, letting the pocket pony jump into her own hands.

“She’s yours now, this stellar mare. So treat her well and give her care.” There was a calming conclusiveness to his words.

And just then, all the day’s events caught up with the poor girl. More had happened to her in just the past couple of hours than in her entire life. At least it felt that way. She dropped to her knees and let the purple mare down to rest upon them. The time was well due for her to get some rest as well if only her parents could find her. But she lacked the energy to keep searching for herself.

The Sun King continued some grandiose speech to the crowd, but her focus was on the little horse. “Please, please there is no need for applause now. You may save it until after I win the trials.” He carried on, outside of her focus. “If you made bets already catch up with your bookie. I wouldn’t want any of you to make poor financial decisions. What king would I be then!?...” And he carried on.




“Sofia? Sofia!”

Sofia looked behind her to see that, because of the commotion, her parents were able to find her. She allowed herself a smile as her ordeal had finally come to an end.

The Sun King gave a parting smile to the reunited family. And then, with another blast of light, he was gone again.





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Hidden 1 yr ago 1 yr ago Post by Ti
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Event: 小妹妹 Soul Sisters | Location: Proving Ground, Ersand'Enise.


As the sun gracefully descended below the horizon, its waning rays brushed the enchanting city of Ersand’Enise with a warm, golden embrace. The stage, a magnificent tapestry of artistry and enchantment, was poised to unveil a spectacle unlike any other.

Amidst a hushed, breathless anticipation, the colossal Rainbow Kite descended upon the vast assembly gathered at the revered Proving Grounds. The arena burst to life in a dazzling symphony of colours and oriental melodies. Eagerly awaited and heralded by a chorus of cheers, the illustrious Soul Sisters had returned to grace the great city with their presence for a second time.

These renowned songstresses hailing from the mystical Rettand continent stood resplendent before their adoring audience, a congregation of loyal fans and newcomers alike. Dancers, draped in resplendent silks and intricate laces, wove their way onto the stage, their graceful movements akin to a river's gentle flow. The air was rich with the aroma of regional cuisine, as Zenobucks served fragrant teas and delectable, multicoloured Mercador™ Mochi, eliciting smiles of delight from the crowd.

As the group seamlessly melded into their performance, they showcased their individual talents, each one commanding the spotlight. Xiulan, scion of the prestigious Hong family, conjured a majestic ice sculpture of a Rettanese dragon. With a flourish of her hand, she shattered it, sending a cascade of ice crystals aloft, a testament to Retannese mastery over mystical beasts. Mio, representing Nikan, bathed herself in radiant brilliance, embodying the land of the rising sun as light danced through the ice crystals, casting prismatic hues across the venue.

Ji-Woo followed, scattering seeds upon the arena's surface. In a breathtaking display of nature's power, verdant greenery sprouted and burgeoned into magnificent trees, their branches reaching skyward. The spotlight then shifted to Nia, whose performance took an unexpected, electrifying twist. With a dramatic flourish, she targeted the once-lush trees, which had begun to twist and darken ominously like those of Tarlon. Building up immense energies, she called forth divine lightning, unleashing a fiery spectacle that carried a charged political statement.

Concluding this mesmerizing showcase was Ai, her graceful gestures filling the air with an intoxicating blend of floral scents, reminiscent of Chrysanthemum and Osmanthus. She wove an olfactory tapestry that left the crowd enchanted and enraptured.

The 小妹妹 Soul Sisters are on tour!



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Hidden 1 yr ago Post by jasbraq
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jasbraq The Youngest Elder

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Within the stinking docks around Mudville two figures could be seen entering a small cabin. "There we go, we won't be heard here." A hooded figure spoke out, grabbing a bottle with two glasses out from his cloak. "Want a glass? I did my best to grab a good tasting one." Charlotte sighed. "I could never refuse a good glass of wine, can I?" "Perfect, then we can talk until the wine bottle has emptied!" He poured some in the two glasses and took himself a sip.

"So why did you wish to meet here?.. This is hardly the nicest place to truly reunite after such a while, Herr—" "Hey, hey, hey! Did I not say you shouldn't refer to me as such?" The Hooded man cut the Feskan off. "Of course, My apologies." Charlotte nodded her head. "Then, what did you wish to discuss?" The hooded figure cleared his throat. "You must have noticed it too, right?"

"Noticed what?"

"Her."

"Who?"

"...You know who I'm talking about!" He answered, his posture radiated his annoyance.

"If she concerns you so much, then why don't you just talk to her instead of observing her? I'm sure she misses you dearly."

"I… can't… I shouldn't even be here, remember?" His voice became less clear. "You have seen how she has been ever since she came back, right?"

"A grieving young woman who just lost her beloved one?" She put her hand on her chest. "I do so hope Herr Hohenfelter found a good place to rest."

"Not just grief! Do you not see it in her eyes? That same strange glint of satisfaction is not something a true grieving woman should have!"

"It is true that she has not been herself as of late, but I think that has to do with all the horrible things she has had to experience as of late."

The hooded figure took another sip of wine and sighed heavily. "Karl, I get what your reasoning is. But I can't shake this feeling that something is terribly wrong. I've been watching her from the shadows.” He paused as if he tried to find the correct words for it. "It's not like she's not herself.. it's the opposite. She is too much like herself. Someone who always had this lust for power, however now with Manfred gone she has nothing to keep that in check."

Charlotte's brow furrowed with concern. "Are you saying that perhaps she's dealing with things she shouldn't be?"

The hooded figure slammed his hand against the wall. "Exactly. And I can't just stand by and do nothing. But if I reveal myself to her… that's why I needed to talk to you, Karl. She has been like this since last year's trials…"

"I'll see what I can uncover as her aide. I would like to add that she has also been somewhat distant towards me as of late." Charlotte emptied her glass.

The hooded figure nodded in agreement. "Thank you... I knew I could count on you. Just...be careful. And if you find anything, let me know. I can't let anything happen to her."

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Hidden 1 yr ago 1 yr ago Post by Ti
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Ti Bruja

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Event: The Crisian | Location: Ersand'Enise.


The quill scratched relentlessly across the parchment, leaving a trail of jet-black ink in its wake, forming intricate Kressian cursive script. These meticulously transcribed cards, once dried and catalogued, became prized additions to the ever-expanding labyrinth of knowledge housed within Taleja's zettelkasten. She knew, perhaps better than most, that information was the true currency of power, and power was the wellspring of strength. Each detail, each whisper, was a piece of a puzzle that, when assembled correctly, could unveil secrets hidden in the shadows.

Her journey through Kerremand to the enigmatic town of Mandelein had been nothing short of fruitful. Among the myriad of leads, one name stood out prominently: 'Comte Mirabeau.' He was to be her starting point, the first domino in a long line of secrets waiting to be tipped. But in the clandestine world of espionage, Taleja knew that even the most meticulously laid plans could have blind spots, and her efforts have revealed a network of intrigue and a clandestine organization informally known only as the ‘Hourglass Order’, after the one of legend.

Her own blind spot was her fellow students, the very individuals she had shared lecture halls and libraries with. However, since, Taleja was not one to underestimate the power of tongues wagging and the innate human desire to share secrets. She had managed to compile a list of key figures within the Hourglass Order, and at the heart of it all was Jocasta Re, a name whispered in the shadows with both reverence and trepidation, and a recent early promotion to Tan-Zeno.

From there, the network of contacts began to unravel, forming intricate patterns and revealing hidden connections. The strings of information extended from the efforts of the late Hugo Hunghorasz to his successors, Claresse Upta and Karan Harachorra, and each card containing vital knowledge that would shape her understanding of the Hourglass Order. Names repeated like a haunting refrain, linked together on the sprawling anacapa chart that adorned the walls of her backroom.

In the depths of the night, when most were blissfully ignorant of the conspiracies that wove through their lives, Taleja remained vigilant. As the quill scratched on, she knew that she was on the cusp of unravelling something greater.



“Mi’lady, are you the Crisian?” A soft murmur emanated from the doorway, where a meek-mannered woman stood.

Taleja arched an eyebrow at the question, her sharp eyes scrutinizing the figure that graced her doorway. She didn't recognize the woman, but there were telltale signs of a disguise meant to blend into the worker's district, albeit a bit too clean for the late hour. Furthermore, the door had remained unopened until this woman's arrival, a clear intimidation tactic. Temporal magic? No, the entrance would have been rougher if that were the case. This individual had to be a Greyborn, like Sister Laska, with a background in clandestine activities. There were a few operators who fit this profile, but which one stood before her now?

Taleja, maintaining her composure, offered a sweet smile as she extended a chair to the woman and began pouring a cup of tea. "I have been referred to as such before, but it would be impolite not to introduce ourselves. Please, take a seat," she said, gesturing toward the vacant space.

There was a moment of hesitation before the woman finally moved toward the chair. She knew she was stepping into a potentially dangerous situation. Taleja continued to smile as she stirred her tea with a spoon and then took a sip.

“Brother Baudile informed us you might be able to help us in this discreet matter, Mi’lady," the woman said, handing over a parchment that listed a series of names. Names that were all too familiar.

Taleja glanced at the parchment and then back at the woman. “I see. I too, like to carry out the work of the Gods.” She carefully read through the names before rolling up the parchment. With a quill in hand, she jotted down her price and handed the paper to the woman. She then took another sip of her tea.

The other woman examined the paper. “This is not a number.”

Taleja nodded in agreement. “Correct. Feel free to escalate it to the most appropriate authority,” she replied, her tone unwavering. She placed her tea cup back on its saucer.

The woman folded the paper and pocketed it, preparing to leave. “That will be all.”

“Farewell, and mind the door. You might want to lift, then pull. It can get stuck,” Taleja advised with a sickly sweet smile, watching as the woman exited. Once the visitor was out of earshot, Taleja couldn't help but ponder the intriguing connection between the Church and Jocasta Re.



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Hidden 1 yr ago 1 yr ago Post by Echotech71
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Niallus Saberhagen





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Hidden 1 yr ago 1 yr ago Post by Echotech71
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Niallus Saberhagen



Event: Disconnected
Location: Ersand'Enise.



"Why…" Niallus sat his knees curled up to his chest. Head resting on his arms. He felt disconnected after Ingrid broke his heart. Stringing him along. Why didn't she say something, they could have just went back to being friends. Lifting his head up to see his room in shambles. His desk flipped, his chair destroyed, books scattered everywhere around the room. He just sat in the chaos, revelling in it. He thought that After what happened in ReTan, he thought it wouldn't get any worse, how wrong he was. He felt so disconnected.

Albion, from the bedroom poked her dragon head out of the doorway. Worrisome chirps as she crept towards her owner. She pushed his arm with her nose, he didn't react to it. Tilting her head, she tried again. "Not now, Albion." he quietly said to her his tone was drained and exhausted. Albion approached him from his left side, sticking her head under his arm, so it was around her neck. She nuzzled his face, purring. Her soft white scales brushing up to his cheek. Getting him to open up his form slightly, Albion took the opportunity to curl up on lap as he laid his legs down. He slowly started pulling himself around. He started to pet her head. Trying his best to smile. But it was difficult for him, for now he just left it. Albion knew her owner was hurting, she wanted to help him.

"What do I do?" he asked himself. He knew this was going to be difficult, especially since she's had a lot of friends with him. How is that going to pan out? He was dreading telling Maura. He knew that he'd get a lecture from her saying I told you so. She was only using you, and you didn't listen to me. If he didn't tell her she'll probably hear the rumours. Sven will help him move past this. Help him back on his feet. Maura will also help him move on. Leaning his head back on the door of his dorm. He was exhausted. Physically and emotionally. He wanted to just go out, drink his troubles away. "Up Albion." asking her to move while he gets up. He goes to the bedroom to clean himself up. Halfway to the room he turns to see Albion sat waiting at the door looking at it. As if waiting for someone.

He knew what she was waiting for, his mind flashed back to the times she'd be sat waiting at the door and Ingrid walks through. Giving Albion some attention before closing it. Afraid of being lost in his memories.
Niallus shook his head, bringing it back to reality. He kicked one of the books on the floor, making it hit the wall. He'll tidy up the damage he's caused to his room. But right now he doesn't want to go out. He just wanted to stay in. Shutting the world away. Leaving Albion as she sat there waiting for someone who was never going to turn up. His bedroom was also a mess, things scattered everywhere. He just flopped onto his bed. If anyone asks him about it, he's just going to keep a brave face and try to hide it, until he's ready to move on. "Tomorrow is going to be a difficult day..." he mumbles.
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Hidden 1 yr ago 1 yr ago Post by Fallenreaper
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Fallenreaper ღ~Lil' Emotional Cocktail~ღ

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Roslyn Wicke

Drowning in the Aftermath


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Hidden 1 yr ago 1 yr ago Post by Force and Fury
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Force and Fury Actually kind of mellow

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They needed a safe harbour. That much could be said with complete certainty. While a handful returned as triumphant heroes, more returned bruised and battered, both psychologically and physically, their faith in... more or less everything shaken and, in some cases, shattered. Some were a half-step away from madness or, worse, open rebellion. Others felt used and abused by the academy. Still others didn't return at all. This, then, was their sophomore year.

Of course, the people in charge of Ersand'Enise - those at the helm of the multibillion magi enterprise - were not stupid. They could sense the dissatisfaction building, and it had built along a number of avenues: the biros who had been sent into the field were reeling, there was seething unrest in Mudville as academy interests moved in on the cheap land, and the Grey Fleet of Tarlon had forced the Bin Ada Channel and was, even now, most likely landing in Tanso or Oiyac. Behind it all loomed the spectre of war between those two great coalitions: the Sovereign Pact and the Central Alliance, tempered only by the growing threat of the Tarlonese yasoi. They should have feared their own people as well, but the underclasses are always ignored, in history, until it proves too late.

In the end, the so profoundly necessary safe harbour turned out to be... a fun faire. In truth, the idea of Hugo Day had been conceived not very long after the late paradigm's death and increasingly solid plans had been in place for nearly a year. The timing was merely fortuitous, or so those in charge might claim if pressed on the matter. It had always been known that Hugo Hunghorasz and Giacomo the Owl had shared a birthday, so the Societies Faire was pushed back a week, and what resulted was a four day weekend of revelry rebranded the Founders' Day Weekend Fun Faire, with Mother's Day tacked awkwardly on to the end.






Banners began to appear on the streets of Ersand'Enise as early as Greenleaves and, by the time of Return Day, when courses resumed, they were everywhere: festooning walls and streetlamps, hanging between trees, fluttering from flagpoles, plastered outside of classrooms. There was no forgetting it. The Academy even asked its Zenos and Arch-Zenos to shill for the event as they taught and mentored, though many found it beneath them and did so grudgingly, at best.

Gradually, the festivities, games, and events were revealed. First, it was a performance by the famed Soul Sisters, on Assani the 34th, and then Leon Solaire, on the 35th, a Victendes. Soon came news of a merry-go-round, a ferris wheel, a skating rink maintained by cryogenic magic, and a pair of innovative new rides known as 'roller coasters' from Vossoriya and from Retan, named the Tempest and the Dragon's Fyre, respectively.

Bread and Circuses: there is no better short-term solution to discontent. Why, the plebeians of Mudville were even given free vouchers to attend, taking the wind out of proto-revolutionary sails! A travelling zoo was to make an appearance, along with a great circus featuring horse, dragon, and thresher races, acrobats, illusionists, performing animals, fortunetellers, games, and rarities from the world over. Apparently, the Empire of Tantiac had sponsored a grand exhibition as well, though this had been cancelled in response to their unprovoked invasion of Ai Medda.

There was more, though! Soon, the student body was all abuzz about The Academy's Got Talent: a great talent show among students with Zenos acting as judges and arbiters. There was an eating contest sponsored by the Perrench Société des Gourmands, an Animal Extravaganza with both a show component as well as mounted and unmounted races for dragons, threshers, and equines, and a Sociedad de Forzudos-sponsored team Tug-of-War on a large platform floating on Hedda's Lake in the Arboretum. This was along with dozens of games such as a shaped-lightning racecourse, gargantuan milk-bottle ring toss in heavy winds by the coast, scheduled foot races through the ever-shifting hedge maze in the arboretum, target shooting, a three-legged race, and a 'Reshta Race': a hopping contest.

They did not stop at mere entertainment, however. There was an incentive system as well. Marceline, morose over her brother's disappearance, had been brought in by the school's Student Enterprise Council, and thrown herself into the workings and operation of the festivities. Precisely seven days before the start of the event, students would find, in their mailboxes, a letter detailing how matters would be conducted and the levels of reward to be earned. There were six, in total: Chaos, Diamond, Gold, Silver, Bronze, and Iron. While some of the prizes were revealed to be eminently desirable, a series of mystery rewards remained unknown. However, given the academy's propensity for extravagance, nobody doubted that they would be quite special indeed.

Students went about their daily business, attending classes, practising magics, passing or failing exams as they would. The fleets of workers who kept the city running continued to do so. On the surface, Mudville was calm, its people eagerly awaiting a better future, but beneath this, it bubbled and thrashed in the grip of an upcoming referendum on its future. All the while, politicians plotted and planned in the background. Ai Medda bled, and the Grey Fleet made landfall in Constantia, welcomed by some, resisted by others. The city and the academy, so deeply intertwined, prepared their salve.



||



Then, as a late stresian thunderstorm crackled and mumbled lazily in the clouds and a soft rain fell away to grey and indistinct predawn, the scaffolds and slipways that had sung with the sounds of hammers and saws lay silent and quietly disassembled, carted hastily away overnight by the endless work crews that had used them these past weeks. The city's four Zenobucks locations were up and running as the sun rose behind a veil of clouds, their pots and kettles bubbling and steaming, carts clattering down the streets to deliver the day's baked goods. Mugs were stacked with careful haste, employees tied their aprons and helped themselves to their complimentary morning drinks. Zarina came by to check on two and Marceline the others. Most of their early customers consisted of departing work crews, who received a small discount, and bleary-eyes students and zenos who were just now setting up tents and booths for the Societies Faire. Nobody but the most fanatical wanted the first shift. Their mugs sat in front of them on tables and chairs as they worked, taking occasional sips. In barely more than an hour, the entire thing took shape from its primordial form.

Fires were lit in hearths the city over, kitchens bustled with cooks, and people rolled out of bed and began to dress. Children chirped excitedly to their parents about this or that, eager conversations were held around tables, and bags were packed for a day out. The banners were everywhere as they began to step out into the streets. Others slept in, taking advantage of the blessed day of rest, at least until the great bells of San Carrera tolled to announce the start of festivities.

It was as if the Gods themselves had heard the sound, for the clouds parted most gloriously less than a minute later, great and puffy and golden-white in the early morning sun. Puddles dried and boots rushed through the streets, dodging what was left of them. The residents of Ersand'Enise were not alone, however. Denizens of Mudville, in an attempt to encourage their continued presence under the great city's umbrella, had been given those vouchers, after all, delivered in style by crows, ravens, and magpies that only a handful had taken the opportunity to butcher and eat. They streamed in, now, through the Seagate: whole families, with uncles and cousins. Hundreds more came from Perrence, Revidia, and Méattu. More, still, came from yet further afield. Finally, came their fellow students. Some curious, enterprising, or hedonistic sorts, they'd have normally arrived a week later for the Trials, but they found ways to arrive now, perhaps thanks to the skyrocketing availability of Temporal magic as of late.

Crowds filled the streets by the time San Carrera's bells chimed to announce that Shune had given way to Oraff. There seemed to be a musician on every corner, playing some sort of merry tune. There were games for everyone to win: grizzled dockworker and scion of high nobility alike. How there were foods, as well! Great heaping plates of rare and exotic dishes from around the world awaited within the temporarily christened Smorgasbord Hall. Merchants lined the boulevards. Shrewd-eyed housewives bargained. Yet, the longest lines were saved for the grandest attractions... and the most potentially lucrative. The Founders' Day Weekend Fun Faire was well and truly underway.



Forms and Guidebooks



The following forms and guides should help you navigate the Founders' Day Weekend Fun Faire. This is not so very formal an event and much of it will be run via discord. If you have questions, ask away!




The Hourglass Order's fifth arc, Linchpin of the Hinge, begins... now!



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Hidden 1 yr ago 1 yr ago Post by jasbraq
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jasbraq The Youngest Elder

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At the crack of dawn






A week has passed and his recruitment went mostly according to his plans. He managed to get his two mentors Olivier and Nicolas to join his cause as well as Nicolas’s other student Yvette. She is certainly up my alley. Alas, she is from common birth and her capacity is pitiful The other woman of the group was somewhat treated with the same attitude. She might prove useful as a future mistress, an unofficial branch with her… talents could be quite advantageous. And finally the final member of his personal recruitment that accepted his call. Bastien Moreau, a dark skinned man who made quite a name for himself as a proficient mercenary in southern Perrence and even in parts of Enth.

The people assembled to answer his call yet most were of the merchant class and other riffraff… There were some nobles, however they could barely be seen as them. They were not the people he had hoped for… though he should have kept his expectations lower. If they can fight, they will be useful. If he could turn these undesirables into a trained force, then the crown needed to acknowledge his drive.

"Attention!” the dark skinned man spoke out to gather the recruits’ collective focus. “You are in the presence of the grand master.” Yvain took the stage to address the people who have arrived here. “My countrymen! I am truly delighted to see so many of you have answered my call.” The Berbignon stood straight, a warm smile on his face. “Within this order there shall be no class divide, for we are all Perrench.” He opened his arms to further address the crowd. “Our order might not be the most grand as of now, but it shall soon eclipse any other!” He pointed at everyone in the crowd. “You, you, you and you shall be the most renowned knights in the land!” He paused. "My knights!"

“And what do we get out of it besides some cash?” A rather unsatisfied noble yelled out for his attention. “I could join any other order and get more worth out of it.” Yvain frowned. “What I offer is worth more than just gold. I offer true strength.” The noble moved forward towards the younger noble. “And how is a child going to offer us strength? I am already strong as is.” Yvain waved his hand dismissively. “It would be wise not to address your superior as a child. My age is not a reflective sign of my competency, because if we use that..” A grin appeared on the boy’s face. “That would only put you in a worse light.”

The older noble began to draw aggressively. “How dare you?! I am a count, you fool! I could rival a marquis with my influence.” The crowd moved away from the man as Bastien aimed his rifle towards the man. Yvain put his hand on the rifle and moved it down. “Thank you, friend. However this is something I shall deal with personally.” The boy clapped as he got down from his platform to be on equal ground. “Bravo, bravo, that is quite some capacity you have.” The older man smirked. “What’s with the sudden compliment? Are you mocking me?” The man’s anger was almost enough to pop a vein. Yvain’s expression was one of pure dissatisfaction. “No, that was a genuine compliment. It is indeed quite some power for a lesser, weaker noble than myself.”

The man cast an arcane lance and sent the beam straight towards the boy’s chest. Yvain drew away the potency of the attack and it dissipated near his chest. “Was that enough of your little tangent?” He sighed, still quite unamused with how highly this nobody regarded himself. “This is your last chance to accept my blessing or you will face my wrath.” The man’s anger however was not sated. He lunged at the boy, fist making contact with Yvain’s frame staggering him back. A furious pyre burned in the boy’s eyes after taking the hit. “You think you’re one of the strong! Let me prove you wrong!”

The man could feel pressure build onto his entire body, it was dragging him down to the ground. He tried to resist the immense force yet was no match for it. The older noble screamed out as his body hit began to be pushed into itself, arms pulled against his back, legs pushed against his stomach with increasing force. The bending of his body led to bones breaking and screams of agony coming from the man.

“Enough!” A man with two hounds by his side yelled out and as soon as his voice was heard Yvain stopped. “Olivier, I was just showing this man some discipline.” Olivier shook his head. “That is not discipline, son. That is just being cruel.” He waved towards Nicolas and Bastien. “Could you please make sure this man is seen out and will gets offered some care?” The two men nodded and dragged the mangled, yet alive body out of the room.

The hound barked before Olivier signed them for silence. “My fellow Perrench. I would like to apologize for the spectacle from both sides.” His face was trying to form a warm smile through his rough appearance. “But this boy is correct. We offer you strength, a way to climb the class ladder and all will be taken into our care and receive the blessings of being in the inner circle of a high noble.” He lowered his head. “I will not force this upon anyone but some of the blessings do extend to your families.” After the senior diplomat ended his speech some did leave, fearful of the Grand master’s fury yet there were also those who wished for strength and became members. Forty Three new members were gained and prepared themselves to become knights.




Yvain sighed as he sat down in his chair. “I’m glad we managed to get new recruits.” Olivier smacked the young noble on the back of the head. “You prideful fool!” Yvain wished to retaliate but he could not against the man he respected so much. “He was the one who instigated it. I would have looked weak if I didn’t.” His voice was weaker than usual. The senior’s face was one of disappointment. “Then you openly request a duel! His pride would not allow him to deny it.” Yvain leaned back. “It happened already, did it not? I’ll take this with me in the future.” He waved his hand dismissively. ”I’ll gift the man’s family some gold and then he’ll shut up.”

Olivier sighed and sat down next to him. “Then what do we do now, grand master?” Yvain thought to himself. “Perhaps we should extend our scopes.” He stood up to grab a map. Olivier looked rather confused. “In what way?” Yvain smirked and pointed towards the Sevaran lands. “If we could find some potent people with perhaps the famous fireblood. It could truly strengthen our numbers in the long run.” He pointed to it once more. “Or the devourers.” His smirk only grew before pointing towards the savage lands. “What if we manage to integrate some of the infamous mooncasters? They would be a situational force but their strength is nothing to scoff at.” Olivier laughed. “You truly want us to have a target on our head?” Yvain shook his head. “No, I want us to become Perrence’s greatest asset.”

Yvain's eyes burned with ambition as he envisioned his future exploits. Olivier, though concerned, couldn't help but admire the young noble's determination. "Your vision is grand, son... Just don't overdo it" Olivier warned. "We will be treading dangerous waters, dealing with the political ramifications that comes not just from within Perrence but outside as well." Yvain nodded, his expression serious though a glint of excitement escaped. "I am aware of that, Olivier. But if we are to truly make a mark, a mark so big that children shall sing of our exploits hundreds of years later."

Olivier sighed, acknowledging he could not lower the boy's grand vision. "Very well, but we must proceed with caution. We cannot afford to make enemies as we stand right now. Diplomacy and tact will be as crucial as strength and power." Yvain nodded in agreement. "I understand, Olivier. We'll approach this with care." He grabbed a piece of parchment and a quill. dipped the point in ink and began to write. "First, we have to placate the king to make sure he won't fear a potential move on him. Second, if we can help sway Revidia's lesser aligned allies like the Rettanese. The Torragonese would be an obvious choice yet the task of calming tensions between them and the Virangish would be quite the task. If these goals succeed, getting my hands on Mooncasters and the such would not be the hardest move."

He looked towards her old mentor with a questioning look. "What do we do about Enth? They seem to look favorably at the Revidians but if they could be swayed to help us instead or remain neutral would lead to less overexertion of the Perrench Armee." Olivier laughed about the lofty goals. "First, get the king to agree on these. You don't want yourself to undermine him, now would you?" The boy sighed. "I don't want to do that, but we are just letting Revidia look stronger on the world stage while we could squash them like a bug if it wasn't for that troublesome alliance." Frustration build up in his tone. "Perhaps we could bolster a revolt within Segona, that could cripple them." Yvain tried to think of ways to undermine the Revidian snake. "And what of the Crissians? Would they not do the same with them if we helped Segona?" Olivier asked. "A revolt from them could make the coming war an even bigger hassle." Yvain scratched his head whilst deep in thought. "I don't understand why they won't just give them more freedom at the cost of aligning with us. Make them want to be in the Sovereign pact instead of pushing down our heel into them. It would cost us a lot less headaches."

He looked at the parchment with a frown. "These are quite a couple things we need to deal with and not make Rouis angry.." Olivier nodded with a smirk plastered on his face. "The wonderful world of diplomacy, son." The young noble could rip out his perfect blonde hair but he calmed himself. "That is why you are my greatest asset, old friend." Yvain looked at the map and pointed at Warlisz and their neighbours. "I think we should make sure our neighbours won't help the Revidians if a war comes, for that could destroy our lands." He once again leaned into his chair. "I think that is that for our current plans in these turbulent times, no?" Oliver grabbed the parchment from the table and inspected it. "I believe so." He clapped his hands. "Good, then we must come to the table with our neighbors." He paused, letting out a chuckle. "With the king's consent, of course."

Olivier nodded in agreement, his demeanor grew more serious as he considered the complex diplomatic web. "Indeed, son. The king's consent is important. We must approach him with a well-crafted plan and sound reasoning to gain his support." Olivier continued, "We should also consider the existing alliances and rivalries in the region. If they see a mutual benefit in aligning with us, it could sway their allegiance." Yvain nodded, his expression grew determined. "True, we should be prepared to offer incentives to our potential allies, whether it's trade agreements, military support, or just political aid. We must show them that aligning with us is in their best interests."

Olivier tapped his chin in thought. "And don't forget the power of diplomacy within the court as well. Winning the favor of other high nobles can be just as important. They can help sway the king and political decisions in our favor." Yvain sighed at the thought of engaging in that pit of vipers.. "I hate to admit that you're right... but you are. We should identify potential allies and assess their current stances and interests."

"And let's not forget the power of information. Knowing our enemies' plans can be a significant advantage." Yvain nodded in agreement. "You're right, Olivier. Information is power. This is why I've ordered Élisée to build up a network of informants to keep us informed. Did you think I wouldn't have my own network already in the works? You hurt me, Olivier." The older man looked at his old student with pride. "My apologies, sometimes I forget you aren't that stupid child that I had to teach basic diplomacy to anymore."

Yvain leaned over the table. "We need to bolster our internal structure as well," he said, gesturing towards the emblem of the order. "Training programs, resources, and proper mentorship will be crucial. Our knights should be paragons of power and honor." Olivier nodded in agreement. "We must instill in them the values of chivalry, loyalty, and discipline. They should be the embodiment of the collective Perrench soul and their ideals." The boy nodded back. "Bastien and Nicolas have a different expertise but I am sure that they will train the most valiant warriors for our cause. If Yvette is up for the task might give her own group of recruits but that will be something I should discuss with Nicolas first." He looked his mentor straight into his eyes. "Speaking for being up for the task, I would like to ask you to train some of them in the ways of handling beasts." Olivier hesitated. "Would it not be a shame to waste the recruits' time with an old man's tricks?" Yvain pointed his finger to Olivier's face. "No, It would be a shame if your skills die with you."

The conversation shifted to the economic aspect. "Our order must be financially stable," Yvain said firmly. "Everything that does not go to the order should be invested in trade, infrastructure, artisanship and agriculture for prosperous Berbignon lands will strengthen our position and earn the goodwill of the people." Yvain continued. "We can lure in skilled craftsmen, merchants, and scholars. Our lands should be a hub of knowledge and innovation. By spreading this knowledge, we not only strengthen our lands but also create a prosperous future for our children to inherit."

As they finally concluded their meeting, Yvain looked at Olivier. "We have our work cut out for us, my friend," he said. "But I believe in our vision. Together, we will leave a legacy that will be looked favorably upon for centuries."

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YummyYummy Ayyyyy

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It wasn’t unusual for Zarina to visit the sanctuary she had helped build in Eskand with the help of someone like Jocasta for mobility. But today was different - she was going to relieve her sensei of any responsibility and take over the reins, once she felt ready. After all, she portal’d in a big dragon before, what was a person or two?

The first time was difficult, even when she chose Maura to accompany her - someone of small composure that would theoretically not require too much strain to accommodate for. A panting Virangish Pepper was left in the wake of the portal’s creation. “Rolling ladies first.” she huffed out, gesturing dramatically into the tear in reality that showed the familiar sights of Somnes-time Eskand and the reserve barn in the distance. “I suppose that trade agreement you got going with ReTan considers these thingies. Like that Silk Gate. Boats can’t do it all nowadays.”

"There are volume, risk, and price considerations. Fortunately, portals are only available in limited supply and specific areas. After all, we still need to ship goods from Revidia to the Silk Gate somehow.” She smiled as she looked up toward Zarina, “Beautiful ones first it is then~” As she made her way through the portal her friend made.

As they travelled through the portal, their perspective of the Snowsweeper Sanctuary expanded. The once modest shelters had been replaced by much larger structures, and several new buildings had sprung up, indicating the development of some kind of industry in the area. However, the most breathtaking sight was the Snowsweeper family in the field, frolicking in the meadows. There were three adults, the bull, and two pregnant mares, along with five juniors playfully charging around in the grass. Surprisingly, they all appeared to have shed their thick winter coats for the warmer season.



Maura smiled widely as she pointed towards one of them and playfully giggled, "That one clearly takes after you."

“Guaranteed it’s Adnan.” remarked Zarina with a proud grin on her face and hands on her hips in a triumphant pose. It was a delectable sight to be sure - the fruits of their efforts laid right before them with no catch. The Sanctuary had gotten bigger with the massive amount of land ever expanding and secured.

Zarina approached the youthful animals, prompting a couple of them to look her way, but only one was curious enough to approach. It was the one she had guessed. Out of her pocket came a few sugar cubes she presented to the animal with her hands flat. The small feast attracted the attention of the others, and soon they were all congregating toward the two students much like cows would once a single one had made a friend.

“Hey, Maura, look.” Zarina was surrounded by bovine heads all sniffing about and releasing light moos for attention. She began to swing her hand up and down, which led the animals to mirror her movements with their heads bobbing. “I’m now queen of the moos.”

Maura simply giggled as Zazzy proclaimed herself the Queen of the Moos. She directed her attention to the runt of the litter, appropriately named Ayla. The little cutie with its reddish fur was persuaded to come over as Maura presented a treat. The Snowsweeper had certainly grown larger since last year, definitely too big for her lap now. "Even Ayla has grown into a big girl now."

As they spent time with the Moos, they started to attract the attention of the staff working at the Sanctuary. A small crowd of them began to gather before approaching. "Say, Zazzy, you did let them know we were coming, right?"

“Nope.” answered Zarina, carefree and drowning in Snowsweeper scritches and licks. When the security rangers were closing in, she absently waved at them. “Heyyyyyyy!”

The rangers approached with frowns on their faces as they observed the two girls playfully interacting with the Snowsweepers. "Denne helligdommen er ikke åpen for publikum," one of them stated, gesturing towards their weapons and the outer fence.

Maura paused for a moment as they spoke Ingrid to her, not fully understanding but getting the gist of their interaction. "We don't speak Eskand. My name is Maura Mercador, and this is Zarina Al-Nader. We have come to see our investment."

Zarina squinted at Maura. “Investments? You’re actually making a profit out of this?” she shook her head. “Admit it, you just fell in love with these fluffy shits.” she turned her head to one of the animals and made baby sounds whilst nuzzling its big, damp snout. “Whosagoodgurl mmmm!” and it moo’d back in all its ugly goodness.

Then she attention went to the Eskandish staff. “Ah! Yeah, uhhh,” she reached for her chest and then just emphasised what was not clearly bigger than her’s. “Idun! Friend! Uhhh, Thorinn?”

"You know what we meant, talking about our donations and our rescue of them," Maura clarified, rolling her eyes in response to the gentle chiding regarding her choice of words. However, her aloof demeanour quickly shifted to shock when she realized that Zazzy was trying to inquire about their mutual acquaintances. She buried her head in her hands, feeling the second-hand embarrassment from her request.

The rangers exchanged glances among themselves. They had limited knowledge of Avincian, so they gestured for Maura and Zazzy to remain in place while one of them went off to fetch a colleague from the nearby buildings.

Meanwhile, Ayla, the Snowsweeper, turned her attention to Maura. She attempted to sniff Maura's hands before gently licking them with her slathering tongue, as if trying to comfort or cheer up the girl. Maura couldn't help but exclaim, "Eep! Ayla's eating me!" She tried to fend off the tongue with her hands, but the playful Snowsweeper nudged her hands away and continued licking her face.

Zarina laughed. “Hah! She really loves you.” and then she just slumped into the big adult female nearby, with still a little bit of white coat left, and just stayed there while the animal indulged in some tasty grass. “Mmm, fluffy.” she sighed, and after a moment of waiting for the staff to get a supervisor, Zazzy looked at Maura. “Heard you had quite the encounter with, errr, big creatures in ReTan, by the way.” she remarked as we went back to feeding the youths some cubes. “Big animals and grumpy boys.”

"Have you ever eaten battered squid, and when you put the rings in your mouth, you playfully go 'nomf' as if you were a giant creature? Well, its big brother escaped your nightmares and loomed over us all in the sky, like a walking mountain. A creature known as a Knower Titan," she sighed, "Not even sure if it was real; it happened so quickly." She shook her head to dispel the memory. "The boys weren't too bad; Abdel was sweet. The girls were the worst, except for Kaureerah—she's great."

“Shit.” blurted out Zarina, leaned against the big male they had rescued. He was so thick and strong that he barely felt her weight against him. “Sounds like bad calamari. But not all that unbelievable, I don’t think. I just expected something like a big Rettanese dragon or whatever.”

"There was a large arrow dragon who could transform into a human at will, named Wu Long. We collaborated with him for a while, but we eventually ended up in a conflict due to... well, various reasons," she paused, uncertain of how to succinctly explain what had transpired.

The ranger returned with Thorinn by his side, the RASgardian extending his arms toward them in a cheerful manner. "Ladies! It's good to see you again," he boomed, his long, flowing blonde locks trailing behind him as he strode forward. With a mischievous wink at Zarina, he declared, "I hear you've been appreciating these mighty pectoral muscles of mine," while thrusting his chest out proudly. "You should've sent word ahead; we're ever vigilant against any who might threaten these lands. We're not ones to ask many questions."

Zarina snorted. “Damn, Snowsweeper raising does a number on the body sculpting creed, eh?” she regarded Thorinn, hands on her hips and lips pursed as she nodded, looking visibly impressed. “Yeah, my bad.” she waved in surrender. “I don’t have a total grasp on this magic yet. I didn’t plan on popping into the middle of the field, more like … Somewhere I would NOT be ambushed by these cuties.” she smiled, hands back to doing what they do best: Scritches.

“How are you guys holding up?” she inquired, her tone a tad deeper, signifying the end of pleasantries. “The Sanctuary has its needs met, right? Any threats? Special considerations?”

Thorinn scratched his chin, "The fundraising continues, for we must amass a worthy treasury to feed these fine creatures as their appetites grow more insatiable." He gestured toward the two expectant mares, "And lo, we've embarked upon a Snowsweeper wool workshop, a venture that shall, in time, lessen our reliance on donations. But alas, breaking even remains a distant dream."

He snapped his fingers with a hearty laugh, "Idun, she's off to the trials this year, armed with cuddly creatures and certificates to grace your auction house! We're hoping her charms will ensnare a wealthy noble or two, for the cause!"

Zarina scratched her cheek as she pondered. “I’ve been thinking about this, actually. This self-reliance thing.” the snowsweepers were congregating more toward Maura of all people, likely intrigued as to why ‘Ayla’ liked to lick her so much. Was she made of salt? “I was thinking of the Varrahasta Zoo. Maybe that could be an idea. Get a few animals in this sanctuary, and people will want to see them. In fact … This can be a good way to expand the menagerie here, with other creatures that need help.” then, she snapped her fingers as she recalled something. “Were we able to get the other two known males here, by the way?”

Thorinn crossed his arms, and let out a hearty chuckle, his voice booming. "This, my friends, is a sanctuary, not some pitiful zoo. Those places lock up creatures in deplorable conditions for the mere amusement of the masses. Here, we're on a sacred mission to save a species from the brink of extinction," he declared, casting a glance at Maura, who was being thoroughly licked by the Snowsweepers. "Besides, humans can be quite the perilous lot. Just look at how comfortable these magnificent beasts are with us already."

He shook his head solemnly in response to the second question, his golden locks dancing as he did so, "Studding them might be on the table for our lovely ladies, but Snowsweepers, my friends, are a rare and precious treasure. We simply can't scrape together the coin to meet their exorbitant price tags."

“Well, then, be a zoo that doesn’t exploit. I think the best way to get people to care is by letting them meet the beasts.” a couple of pats were placed on a pregnant female’s side. “It’s gonna be about money at the end of the day. So we gotta get producing, so we can get all the remaining snowsweepers here.”

Then, she looked over at Maura and smirked. “Another idea is to make this famous. Lemme explain.” she gently tugged on some of the animal’s fur, and it just slid off as if it had barely been on the animal. She was shedding, after all. “You sponsor Trials teams. Mine, Maura’s and of course Idun’s. If we secure some good places, we can stand on the podium with Snowsweeper tees and a cause to flaunt to the world.”

Maura chimed in with enthusiasm, "Advertisement is indeed a splendid notion, particularly when you're dealing with merchandise as fine as Snowsweeper wool. It can fuel demand, which, in turn, inflates prices. And let's not forget the positive impact on donations."

Thorinn grinned, his voice resonating like thunder, "Ah, you've got the spirit, my friends. Let the world know about our noble cause. As for attracting those pesky poachers, well, let's just say they won't enjoy what I have in store for them if they dare set foot in these parts. Consider it a not-so-subtle deterrent to keep them far, far away."

Zarina clasped her hands together, prompting a nearby snowsweeper to perk up. “Awww, did I spook you?” she reached out to embrace the beast’s neck, and even dropped a few smooches on its cheek, sneaking her head under the thick horn. “We … Could always be proactive with the poacher-snuffing. Surely there are established groups that have been hired for years. If we want them to stop, it isn’t by reacting and scaring them away. They’ll just come back even more prepared.”

The Virangish left the beast to its eating with a couple of pats and gestured for her two colleagues to come closer. “I say we gather a team and start dismantling these dickheads. It ain’t like they’re hunters, they only hunt the exotic and rare. Total fuck-o’s.” she shot a conspiratorial grin at the two.

Maura contemplated for a moment before responding, "Barring opportunistic poachers, a successful operation like that would require some serious infrastructure and logistics. They'd either need buyers lined up or access to a network that can move that type of illicit merchandise. It's not something easily done."

"I shall investigate this further, and I shall keep you both informed," Thorinn declared. He casually spat out the snuff he had been chewing onto the ground. "Looks like I'll be doing some questioning after all, if these troublemakers come knocking on our doors. Come inside once you're done with the beasts."
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Xiuyang & Jamboi
A Needle in the Heart




For days, Xiuyang had been wandering to and fro on campus, going about her business as if in some kind of daze. Every once in a while, she would remember that, in a single day, her entire life had been turned upside-down. Her intelligence network was not her intelligence network. Her mother's side of the family, at least, had been watched by ReTan since before she was born, and her family secrets were not secret to the Twin Emperors. Her and her father's business now seemed insignificant in the face of the revelation that giant sky cephalopods from hell were a thing, and were probably not very happy with her and her friends right now. Ordinarily, she'd skip town if someone came looking for her with murderous intent unannounced, but leaving Sipentia seemed just a bit out of reach in the current year. Still, business goes on. I need a drink, she thought irritably, taking a drink from her gourd.

In that exact moment, she didn't appear as herself; she was a regular, average-looking male student of Ersand'Enise, slumming around Mudville—and just then, she heard a very interesting rumor. Xiuyang sighed. It was a complicated sigh. She had been so caught up in her own misfortunes that she'd forgotten to worry about Ashon. It was a sigh of both relief and disappointment in herself. Still, she couldn't help but feel slightly elated, even if her heart was weighed down by a mountain of worries. Finally, Jamboi's group had returned home safe.

She wasted no time in crossing the entirety of Ersand'Enise to get to the north wall and enter into the foliage of Hedda's Lake, passing the conspicuous island and heading towards the gazebo next to the Ever Tree. As she passed through the less-traveled brush, she withdrew her mask from her bag and put it on herself as her face twisted in agony. She grit her teeth as her body slowly shrunk in height, inch by excruciating inch, for several minutes. Transforming relatively quickly was becoming easier for her, but it would never be easy in that respect. It would always be painful, from what she knew about Facemimicry—the Solari family's most well-kept secret.

Xiuyang jumped across the river and up the branches of the tree one by one using her kinetic boots and a bit of levitation magic. She was getting used to this climb after falling just once or twice or... well, she made it this time, and that's what counts. She entered the Ever Tree house: built using a blend of living wood, woven vines and enchanted crystals that softly illuminated the interior with a gentle, ethereal glow. The structure itself appeared as if it had organically grown from the tree, its walls curving and intertwining with the branches. Sunlight filtered through the leafy canopy of the Ever Tree, casting dappled patterns across the polished wooden floor of the common room, a sprawling circular space with an open-concept layout that seamlessly merged with the tree's interior. Plush rugs made from natural fibers in earthy tones softened the seating areas.

As the heart of the shared space, the common room served as both a place for study and relaxation. Lush cushions and woven hammocks were arranged in cozy corners, offering a comfortable space for the six Yasoi students to unwind, read, or converse. Standing enigmatic and somewhat out-of-place was a magnificent suit of armor standing atop an intricately carved wooden platform. The suit of armor stood at a lofty 7 feet, its metal gleaming softly with an otherworldly luminescence. Resting in the armor's hands was a grand claymore, its blade gleaming with hints of enchantment. Xiuyang eyed the conspicuous new set of armor that definitely wasn't there before with no small amount of suspicion. Its magical-looking blade immediately drew her attention and her curiosity. Someone had just left such a valuable-looking thing unattended?

No, she felt eyes on her—and the Ever Tree was always quieter than the rest of Ersand'Enise, but it was too damn quiet today. She just wasn't sure from where the eyes were watching. Instinctively, she dipped behind a bookshelf and merged with the shadows, feeling a bit foolish but playing it safe as always. Seeing no one, she eventually approached the armor warily, dismissing her nerves as superstitious and admiring it. As it stood on the ornamental platform, she failed to notice that it was more or less precisely Ashon's height.

"Rather dashing, I must say. Someone's very lucky to have you."

The suit of armour appeared to remain inanimate as she approached. And as she spoke, the temptation became too great. The voice that emerged was deep and reverberated from inside the armour. “Why, thank you. You are a beautiful young lass yourself.”

As if the suit of armour were being brought to life, it began to move, at first in an exaggerated manner, then it became more purposeful. Its titanic frame was imposing; it could easily appear as though it could swallow Ashon whole. “Young Maiden, I am an Armour Golem. I have come seeking a worthy challenger.” Its hands lifted the heavy sword as if it were a weightless trinket. “I am known by many names: the Grand Gorilla, the Gleaming Goliath, the Gargantuan, and the Gleeful Guardian.”

The armoured helm peered down toward the staff attached to the girl’s back. “Do you come here to prove your worth?”

As soon as the armor showed signs of movement, Xiuyang instinctively backed away with a kinetically powered jump, surprise evident on her face. "If you're seeking a worthy opponent, you've certainly come to the right school. Me, though? Well, I'm just a sidekick, really," she scoffed, with a visible shrug and a definite note of self-deprecation. Even so, she took her new staff in hand and twirled it rather fabulously. She was experienced enough to know a few moves. "Seriously though, who are you? You didn't just waltz into Ersand'Enise without papers, looking like that. Even I could never pull that off." Her face suddenly became serious as she considered, after the events in ReTan and the Forbidden Quarter, the possibility of something beyond the power of Arch-Zenos.

Then, she raised a brow, some of the figure's words only catching up to her after a pause. She had her suspicions about who was inside the armor. She had to be sure, though—so she reached out to sense what she could of her sudden opponent. She focused on matter and heat. Unless the suit or its occupant repelled her, she could recognize the man inside. Xiuyang never forgot a face, and she was also familiar with a few of the students' circulatory systems—

"Land on your feet!" The colossal figure of the golem suddenly bellowed, its voice resonating like thunder. Swiftly, it scooped up the girl, and with a powerful thrust, propelled her out of the tree house's window. Before Xiuyang could protest, she was swept off her feet and hurled through the air for the second time that week. All right, Shune, I get it. I need to learn more gods-damned kinetic magic, she thought bitterly as she instinctively righted herself in the air and landed on her feet like a cat. The towering golem, an imposing sight in its massive suit of armour, then strode purposefully to the doorway, its gaze fixed on her. "Good, you think fast," it rumbled in a deep voice, its expression hidden behind the visage of its metal helmet. With a swift motion, it hurled a claymore before Xiuyang, the blade embedding itself firmly into the ground. In the next moment, it leapt gracefully from the tree house, as it landed on the sword, and with a flourish, it dismounted the pommel of the claymore, its armoured boots barely making a sound as they met the earth.

"A side-kick? No, one must always aim to be the hero in the story," it declared with a mischievous tone, its gauntleted hand scratching its chin in mock contemplation. "And what a good protagonist requires is a brilliant antagonist. Someone preferably tall, menacing, and secretly handsome." The metal helm turned, its eye slits conveying a playful expression as it regarded Xiuyang. "What do you say?" it inquired, as if inviting her to partake in a grand adventure.

The "golem" had warned her beforehand, which only made sense if he understood the boots she wore. His teasing words and playful body language were very on-brand for Jamboi as well. Normally, she'd play along with his antics, but today... something snapped. Sure, her Yasoi friend had likely gotten a hold of some new armor, wanted to show it off, and decided to play a prank—but also, who could say some shady, vile creature with their eyes on Xiuyang hadn't damn well teleported this "armour golem" into the Ever Tree, and it didn't just fucking eat Jamboi like some kind of body snatcher, absorbing his body, personality, soul, and all? If giant calamari demons were real, what else in the five hells was possible in this madhouse called Sipentia?

Before replying, Xiuyang uncorked her gourd and threw her head back, taking a long chug. "I say you've taken this joke far enough, Jambino, and you'd better take that fuckin' helmet off and show me your face, or I'll kick your ass so hard you'll have the taste of my foot in your mouth for a week." A feisty response, and one that was typical of Xiuyang when she was moody. Something had definitely happened while he was away, and it wasn't good, whatever it was.

The armoured suit remained motionless, its gaze fixed on her. Its deep voice emerged in a deadpan manner, "Still got the aftertaste from the last pair of sandals you wore." There was a pause, as if for mock contemplation. "It was that secretly handsome part that gave it away, wasn't it?" Despite the hidden visage of the helm, a hidden smile seemed to lurk beneath its tone. "Calling me beautiful gave it away," Xiuyang responded with a sigh and notes of exasperation. "—but I had to be sure. ...Sorry. I didn't come here to yell at you, or hit you." She averted her eyes, gazing out at the lake.

His attention shifted back to the tree, the expression on the helm retaining its stoic façade. "The tree house is going to be a lot quieter from now on." A pause followed, and then he turned his attention back to her. "Mandelein was cruel to our suunei. Ismet has joined with the trees, Casii has departed, and Ymiico is damaged. Esmii is a Semprii; she will not take it well." Xiuyang's face fell as Ashon gave her the news. She'd certainly thought it odd that no one else was in the Ever Tree when she'd arrived. Her instincts didn't lie; she knew it was too quiet. Now she knew why. She didn't know what to say, but her eyes said it all.

He paused once again, before addressing her initial request. "This thing weighs like half a tonne. We might want to head back up there before I remove it. Need a lift?" With that, he crouched down, extending his hands to offer her a step up, facilitating her return to the tree house. Instead of stepping onto his hands, though, she sat, putting an arm around his shoulders. "Don't, throw me again," she insisted, jabbing his new helm on its forehead with a finger before holding on.

"...I'm glad you're safe," Xiuyang finally said. It was a weary, raspy voice that very few had ever heard. It was Xiuyang's true voice, muffled by the mask she wore. She only used it with her closest friends, at times like this, when expressing utmost sincerity was of paramount importance to her.

Ashon's curiosity was evident in his gaze as she cradled him within her arms. He reciprocated her embrace, holding her securely with one hand while he reached for the claymore with the other. "I'm glad you're safe too," the metallic timbre of his words echoed from within the armour, though he meant them sincerely. His attention shifted towards the Tree House, his eyes hidden behind the visor, but a mischievous smirk played on his lips. "Then hold on, beautiful," he declared, his tone teasing as he crouched down and then propelled himself upwards, carrying her effortlessly into the tree house.

Neither could see the other's face, but there was no need. Xiuyang's eyes betrayed a smile and she could hear the grin on Ashon's face as he spoke. Though these signs wouldn't be so obvious to others, the two knew them well. She scoffed at being called "beautiful" again, her mask spitting out a stream of cumulated dust out the side as she subtly rolled her eyes. She held on, not as tightly as the first time he brought her to the Ever Tree, but close. It was a somewhat nostalgic feeling, being lifted up as Ashon took to the air, though the armor did get in the way a little. Xiuyang snickered a bit as she remembered how much convincing it took to let him carry her the first time. She'd supposed she would be glad when she learned enough kinetic to ascend the branches herself, but the eventual reality was disappointment.

Yeah. She missed this feeling.

With a swift and graceful motion, they landed at the entrance. He released her gently, allowing her to settle on her feet, and then he followed her inside. In the confines of the tree house, Ashon found a comfortable spot. He started to remove the components of the armor, one piece at a time. As the heavy metal parts came off, his frame seemed visibly relieved of the burden. The top half of the suit was discarded, revealing his bared form. He grinned warmly at her, his chest exposed. "Just a couple of nicks and scars, but you should see the other guy," he quipped, his playful demeanour evident even without the armour.

"I'm glad you finally got something decent, but, you sure it's not too heavy?" she teased. Shrugging, she approached him, inspecting his new trophies—and the armor. "You 'liberate' these new toys from that guy? Truthfully, I'd rather hear about your exploits than recount my own this time around. Also... what happened," she added wistfully, referring to Ismet, Casii, and Ymiico. Xiuyang wasn't close with all of the Yasoi'riimel, but she did care for them. Looking over his newest scars, she traced one with her finger. "Any you want to keep?"

He paused theatrically, his voice carrying the undertones of a bard spinning a tale. "Ah, these humble trinkets?" His fingers fluttered in a dismissive motion. "Mere relics from an ancient armoury concealed beneath the shroud of a crypt, hardly worth mention."

Xiuyang worked on healing Ashon's scars more permanently, grinning as he went into his story mode. Robbing the grave were we? she thought but didn't say, unwilling to interrupt. He was trying to soften the blow, she knew. It probably wasn't going to help much, but... let the man give it a shot.

Ashon was acutely aware that the Yanii girl harboured an aversion to scars, a peculiar quirk he had memorized. She made certain that any remnants of such marks were diligently erased. He flexed his muscles with a dramatic flair, a performance to mask the residual twinge of pain from the healing process, as if flicking away discomfort like a pesky insect.

"but listen closely, for our saga takes a dark turn," he continued. "We were cast into the wilderness, ambushed by brigands hungry for trouble. A town, who saw us as a foe, we strove to save from the clutches of its smuggling scourge."

Snap! His fingers conjured a vivid memory. "Ah! I, the Monkey King, was challenged by an Alpha Gorilla, a clash of titans in a dance of destiny. Triumph was mine, and with my rescued simian brothers rallied behind, we surged forth into the fray."

So, the town they had been trying to help saw them as a nuisance. It reminded her of ReTan. Truly, no good deed goes unpunished, Xiuyang thought cynically, letting out a little inaudible scoff as Ashon made a complete footnote of his duel with a challenger whose name she'd forgotten just as quickly as he glossed over it.

His tone shifted, a dramatic pause to emphasize the shift to graver events. "Yet, tragedy did ensue. Casii, driven to the brink, dabbled in forbidden blood magic, crafting a golem of flesh and bone, shattering the ship we sought to commandeer."

She paused as Ashon mentioned blood magic, as if expecting a lecture that never came. He knew of her curiosity regarding the potential of using blood magic to augment her abilities as a healer. However, she'd never dared to use it after the first time, done once in secret with horrible results and never again—but finally an opportunity had come for her to partner with Trypano on the matter. Did she dare tell him?

...No. Not yet.

"On the homeward journey, grim tidings awaited," he intoned solemnly, his voice laden with the weight of the narrative. "The town, once inhospitable, now swarmed with Corrupted Wolf Wildbloods – a ravenous pack of six hundred. We were marked as their next feast, a desperate fight for survival our only recourse. Even the very priest, once the beacon of faith, transfigured into a monstrous abomination to silence our tale." A fleeting smile played on his lips. "But our tenacity prevailed, with young Kaspar's aid, I felled the monstrosity."

"But alas," he said, the tone of his recitation turning sombre, "Isii and Manfred encountered the smugglers' cunning leader, a rogue girl hailing from my own realm, christened 'The Mad Avatar' by some. Yet her title belies the truth, for she's naught but a wayward soul." As the narrative neared its conclusion, his expression grew serious. "I have been far from my homeland too long..."

Six hundred wildbloods later—yet again glossed over as if it were no special thing—the news finally came. The Mad Avatar—one more colorful character to add to Sipentia's cast of unfathomable, despicable beings. How many more would line themselves up in her path and hack away at every leg she had to stand on?

Mere days ago, she'd felt on top of the world.

Now, she felt so, so small.

Slowly, quietly, she wept—for Ismet, in spite of herself. She had been a nuisance, but also an amusing one. Each antic of hers was another hilarious story she'd hear from an animated Jamboi. She encouraged Xiuyang to be herself, even if it was in her own inappropriate way. It was perhaps because of her that she became a real friend to the Yasoi'riimel. Her old self would have kept them at arm's length, like she did her fellow humans. "And Casii? Ymiico?" she asked after a pause.

"As the battle's curtains fell, both Casii and Ymiico found themselves laid low," he recounted, his voice tinged with both gravity and melancholy. "While Casii's revival was a relatively straightforward affair, the news of Isii's passing wrought a silent departure from her. My hunch places her in the embrace of Tarlon.” He wondered how she would fare in the woods and if she would achieve the solace she sought.

His tone turned sombre as he shifted focus to Ymiico's ordeal. "As for Ymiico, she emerged from Eschiran's clutches, yet the ordeal shattered something within her," he explained, tapping his temple lightly. "A wound unseen, but deeply felt. She remains changed." With a gentleness that belied his lively demeanour, he affectionately patted Xiuyang's head. "And now, it is your turn. Ready to unburden yourself?"

Xiuyang dried her tears. Tarlon. Just how much should she tell him? Ashon deserved an answer in kind, yet she knew she was in a very delicate situation. It wouldn't do to have him on bad terms with her new business partners. He didn't need to know all the minutiae of it. The fact that they knew she was coming, and laced her ceremonial garb with plushtail oil, or how they threatened the Tarlonese Yasoi if she didn't cooperate. That was a settled matter.

Perhaps it was an excuse. Maybe she feared Ashon's disappointment or rejection, if he did not agree with her decision. It was something that couldn't have crossed her mind when her life was on the line, along with so many others, but now it stuck like a needle in the heart. "Well, I finally visited ReTan, like I always wanted," she began with a positive note. "Met the Twin Emperors. One of them is nice, the other is un cazzo. One of their Black Guard is so very much like me. You'd like him, I think." She remembered Mountain Spring fondly, and considered showing Jamboi the gourd, but thought better of it. She had no way of knowing how strong the alcohol was, or what kind of effect it would have on the Yasoi. It certainly wasn't ordinary alcohol, that much was certain. Letting him drink it might be bad for him.

"There was a rebellion there, and I only arrived in time for the final battle. It was a bloodbath, with the sanguinaires on one side, and dragons and ogauraq on the other. It was decided that we would all choose who to side with. In a remarkable show of unity, we all chose to support the Twin Emperors," she said, omitting Trypano's indecisiveness, or that she'd be working with her more in future. "The dragons didn't like that. Neither did the knowers, apparently. It was my first time seeing one. Eye as big as a mountain, tendrils the size of fucking rivers..." She shivered. The knower titan had shaken her.

Ashon's smile remained fixed as he listened to her explanation, though some of the terminologies such as "Ogauraq" or "Knowers" eluded his understanding. However, his imaginative mind painted vivid mental images, conjuring scenes of epic battles between the fearsome Sanguinaires and formidable Dragons. The mention of a colossal kraken surfacing in those waters seemed logical; Ashon was familiar with tales attributing tsunamis to such massive sea creatures along the shores of ReTan and Nikan. The hyperbolic depiction of the kraken's size, likened to that of a mountain, clearly left a terrifying impact on her.

"Ah, so it seems Calamari might be best left for another day, then?" he quipped.

Xiuyang scoffed, delivering a light punch to his abdomen, but grinned stupidly anyway. It was enough to get her mind off of that terrifying image, at least, imagining this tower of a man looming over a much smaller cephalopod on a plate. However, she remembered something else—a burden she was carrying alone at the moment.

She sat down on the raised platform Jamboi had been standing on before. "There's someone I'm avoiding at the moment, so I might start coming here more often when he's in town. Dapper Revidian gentleman, with black hair, goatee," she described Mr. Solari. "Calls himself my dad, y'know. Weirdo. He pissed me off, so we're not really on speaking terms right now."

He settled into a chair, propping his feet up on the table in front of him. "Well, if you've got some Dad issues to work out, you're in the right company here," he quipped with a grin. "Join the club, right?" His expression widened into a playful smile as he continued, "During every Victendes, we trade stories about our respective family quirks. Like Casii's tales of her grandmother keeping the family in line, or how I went through a phase thinking my name was 'Dii' (No) for a good stretch." His thoughts briefly wandered, wondering what kind of extravagance old man Revan'cecil'loiyang was indulging in up in his lavish tree house.

"But hey, if you prefer, we can always pretend it's Victendes," he added, a hint of jest in his voice.

Xiuyang was silent for a long moment as she considered whether or not to say more. In her heart of hearts, she knew that Ashon would always be a friend, but a small part of her had always hoped that the stars might align such that they could be more. However, contrary to her given nickname, she was most certainly not "beautiful." Her marriage prospects were dubious at best and only grew smaller with each year that passed. Her one and only redeeming feature, her business acumen, would be drawn into question if she were to reveal what was about to happen to her—not that it mattered that much, she supposed. Maura would likely hear the news first, and it would surely spread from there.

In the end, Xiuyang's anxiety led to impatience.

She needed clarity and reassurance like she needed her next breath. If she couldn't trust Jamboi, then who? If he wouldn't stick by her when the storm flattened everything she was, then who? "My father will be removing me from his company soon. ...Just as the draft ends. Once I'm safe from the war for the time being... that's—that's it," she said weakly. Admitting it to Jamboi, in some way felt a bit like giving up, which brought a tear to her eye when she thought none were left. "Seems silly to cry about it when there's so many more worse things, but I..." She barely held back a sob.

"If I could have kept living the merchant life with my dad instead of going to Ersand'Enise, I would have! This was what I wanted! Why couldn't he see that?! This was—I gave up everything for this life—I have to hide my face now!" she blurted out unthinkingly amidst the torrent of emotion. She covered her eyes with her elbow. She felt many things in this moment, shame most of all.

He tilted his head to the side, his expression both sympathetic to her and disapproving of her father as he listened to Xiuyang. It was clear that this wasn't his area of expertise, and it seemed like she was seeking comfort more than advice. With a gentle movement, he brought his feet down from the table and drew closer to her, wrapping his arms around her in a comforting hug. He shushed her soothingly and held her close for a moment, offering silent support.

"So, are we going to be playing pranks on a Dapper Revidian when he drops into town?" He flashed her a mischievous grin as he pulled away slightly, trying to lighten the mood. "But you always have us, Suunei. As the Yanii saying goes, it's about the family you choose, not the one you get stuck with."

Suunei. Never before had Xiuyang imagined a single word could be so soothing—but, never before had she been brought so low. As she dried her tears, she considered Ashon's words, as well as Ten-Re's. Of course, she didn't "hate" her father. Did she want to get back at him? Not really—well, maybe just a little. She hadn't exactly asked her father why he was doing this, as she wasn't supposed to know he was doing it in the first place. No... it was because she was terrified of the answer. Better to assume that Ten-Re was right; he was a wise elder sanguinaire, after all, and also a father. Still, it meant that her father thought her weak, when she knew—what she believed to be true—she was stronger than him.

"I know what I need to do—no, not what I need to do, precisely—what I should have done already." She nervously clawed at the side of her mask with a fingernail. "...I haven't earned that title. Suunei. I've never been an open supporter of the Yasoi. I've kept it to myself and those I know will listen and take it well. I've taken no risks, hiding who I am as if it were something shameful." There was a glint of anger at herself forming in her eyes. "No more hiding. I've done it because 'it's the Solari way,' but that's just an excuse to be a coward like my father."

She found herself thinking back to Ten-Jiu's words, now—about how she'd been wasting her potential. Perhaps it was the fear of being rejected by her father that kept her from any bold moves that could make a difference. Now, she was filled with the spirit of having nothing left to lose. Of course, the Twin Emperors had just finished praising her for being discreet, so they would probably not approve—but what kind of person takes advice from elder sanguinaires over their conscience, anyhow?

"If it pisses him off, I'll consider that a bonus. I just hope I have the courage."

Ashon simply listened and waited as Xiuyang continued her discussion, observing as she debated with that inner voice and expressed her thoughts out loud. He tilted his head and then smiled. "If you're open to some advice, I have some," he offered. Xiuyang glanced back at Ashon, expectantly and anxiously. It wasn't clear what she hoped or dreaded to hear, but as usual, Ashon cleanly dodged her expectations. Shifting into a posture that conveyed wisdom and sagely guidance, he brought his hand to his chin. "What do you wish for?" He tapped his head. "The first thing that comes to mind, without judgments or overthinking like a yanii. Focus on what you want." He nodded encouragingly. "Now, go and pursue it."

Surprisingly, he asked her much the same question as Sage-Emperor Ten-Re—yet he also added something that caused her to scoff in amusement; indeed, her way of overthinking and overanalyzing was as much a curse as it was a blessing. He made it sound so easy, just tossing aside the judgments of others. "You'd laugh if I told you," she said. Then, quickly realizing she'd missed the point of the exercise, she went on.

"I want to travel. Put a pin in every country on the map, experience every culture, have stories to tell about each one. It just... seems so childish, now, so backwards. Only important people with something unique to offer, or rich people with the means get to travel like that. Those are life goals; traveling is just a perk. My dream is to travel, preferably with friends or family. The reason why doesn't really matter. ...Like I said, backwards."

Ashon's grin widened as he listened to her answer. "Travelling is a wonderful idea! Unlike those Yanii, you don't need a lavish budget or a meticulously planned itinerary. You just throw on your trusty boots and follow the whims of the wind. That's how I ended up here," he explained with a playful tap to his own nose, as if sharing some profound secret of the universe.

Just... travel? Like that? Put on her Sea Legs and go? It seemed so fanciful, like a fairy tale; or a privateer's tale, she supposed. Not a well thought out plan, at any rate, which simply wasn't her style. She felt she needed a "why" and "how," not just a "when" and "where." In a pinch, though, perhaps just a "who" would do—indeed, there was something else she wanted, too: to one day be able to take off her mask—but that would require her to reach heights of talent she could scarcely imagine herself reaching alone. Yet, reach it alone she must, or else she would pay the price. Realizing that she looked as if she had something else on her mind, she continued speaking. "...Your homeland. If you're itching to go... I'd love to get to see it with you," she offered.

His expression shifted to one of concern. "But, Xiuyang, something's not right back there. Something's gone terribly wrong, and it desperately needs to be set right," he said sombrely. He sat up and stretched, his features settling into a more serious tone. "Normally, I'd say no and insist you stay right here, safe and sound. But the truth is, I'll need all the help I can get to clean up this mess. So, if you're truly eager to volunteer, I won't stand in your way." With a contemplative look, Ashon moved towards the window, gazing out at the sprawling cityscape below. "There are a few people we should meet here first. After that, what do you say? Will you join me on this journey to make things right?"

"Well, you didn't think I was planning a vacation, did you?" she said as she rose, dusting off her legs, staff in hand. "Could tell from the way you said it that it wouldn't be a social visit." Walking over to Ashon, she placed a hand on his arm. "You're strong, and not alone. We'll make it right, Jamboi." Resolve in her eyes, Xiuyang stood quietly next to her friend. She had no idea that the chance to prove her convictions was just around the corner. A path was chosen for her; her course was set, her upcoming decision inevitable.

It was fait accompli.
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Hidden 1 yr ago 1 yr ago Post by Force and Fury
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Force and Fury Actually kind of mellow

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Encounter One: Ypti


Zytan sil Cascal'uumii'anthan, Jath'ismax sil Tantiac
by the hand of Enrdii'altan'toira, correspondent to the Emperor

Dear Prince-Regent,

I write to you once again, previous to my earlier correspondence, in the hope that we may yet have a fruitful discussion. As has already been made substantially clear in our previous communications, and those of our predecessors, the land which you currently claim as Ai Medda, a vassal state to the Empire of Retan is, has historically been, and shall evermore remain a corporeal part of the continent of Tarlon and, by right of all the laws of men and gods, subject to the suzerainty of the yasoi, the natural-born people of this land.

We repeat, in good faith and hope of renewed dialogue, that steps may be taken on your part to remedy this continued occupation. There is a place for your people within the greater body of Tarlonese society, for exchange of ideas and trade. However, should your administration continue in its refusal to respect the sovereignty and territorial integrity of the people whose longstanding territory it now illegally occupies, we will be left with little recourse but to assume an indefinite state of bad faith and to take measures to protect ourselves accordingly from such.

We urge you, in the spirit of fair negotiation, brotherhood, and shared love of this land, to meet with us and discuss alternatives to the current arrangement from which all may benefit. We eagerly await your response.

In Goodwill,

Cascal'uumii'anthan, Emperor of Tantiac and defender of the people of Tarlon



Encounter Two: Shuun



It had become a regular occurrence, Ahmet considered: those strange ships. He had first caught sight of one some twenty-one months earlier, sheltering in a cove along this remote stretch of coast as the Asperic Ocean had lived up to its name. They had started appearing more frequently in the intervening months, first in pairs and trios and then in small squadrons and flotillas. He had thought them some sort of merchantmen from a distant land at first, until he had heard them, early last Somnes, firing their guns in exercise.

Now, there were dozens: a great war fleet, here, off the coast of northern Malabash. As his station demanded, he had reported all of his observations, dutifully, to the messengers who visited his lonely outpost of Fort Asimbdal biweekly. That those messages had reached someone of importance, he could only assume, though they may just as well have ended their journey on the desk of some clerical captain, close to retirement, or even been creatively misplaced. Certainly, there had been no orders to come down his way, save the usual: continue to observe and report. Malabash is not a nation of alarmists or sabre-rattlers.

The frigid morning surf thrashed and churned against the dour cliffs and the ragged rocks at their feet that stunk of seaweed. The sun lay low behind a shroud of grey fog. It was within this miasma that their darkened outlines moved. He counted three dozen, though there may have been more. He noted the time of day, the windspeed, and the direction.

Taking out his spyglass, the young sergeant peered into the clinging mist and there he could see - faintly - figures moving about on deck and climbing among the rigging. The sea was not calm today, but the strange ships were large and sturdily built, as if for a long voyage. As usual, none flew any flag, but he was certain, as he watched their coordinated maneuvers, that these were no pirates. They came from up north, he knew, and - as usual - they were heading south.



Encounter Three: Exiran



It was in the cold of an early Somnes morning that Wan Hao waited, rifle in hand, breath rising in crisp white puffs over the hastily-dug trenches of the Tantian frontier. Birds chirped and chittered in the near-barren trees and glistening hoarfrost decorated the muddy green grass. A squirrel bounded across his field of view, cheeks loaded with acorns for the coming hundri.

In and out. Hao breathed. He could see them moving across the way and he swallowed, a bitterness building inside of his chest and sitting high and uncomfortable upon his stomach. Ever since word had come down from command that ReTan - the mother country - would not defend them, he and the hundred-seventy-four other soldiers of the 105th had been on high alert. It had been sleeping in shifts, tea instead of bed, watch instead of drills.

The yasoi - enemies of his people - were up to something. He could feel it. It lay thick in the air: murderous intent, a sense of entitled superiority, a genocidal desire to drive them into the sea and all of the way back to ReTan, where they had come from.

...Only, they hadn't. Hao, his father, and his father's father had been born and raised on Tarlon, in the nation of Ai Medda. As a girl, his mother had lived, briefly, among the non-humans. As a boy, he had crossed the border once. He scowled and adjusted his grip on the rifle. It had been easier in those days. Tensions had already been escalating, but it was not hostile. Why did it have to be hostile!?

There was movement on the enemy front line. Not technically the enemy, he reminded himself, swallowing once more and thinking of risking a sip from his flask, but none of us are stupid. They will be soon. A cool gust of wind rippled the grass and it all smacked of finality. Maybe this would be it - this would be the hour, the day they finally attacked and all of this infernal waiting would be over with. Hao did not want to fight but he could live with this uncertainty even less. We cannot win, though, he knew. I will die fighting here, in this cold field, as the pumpkins lie ready for harvest.

The squirrel had disappeared and now he could smell the smoke from the yasoi cooking fires. There were hundreds now and he prayed those numbers were a deception. Elsax. They were cooking Elsax, and he had eaten it before. The humans and the yasoi of Tarlon shared many of the same dishes, the same words, the same holidays. It was madness that they were going to fight each other! How had this happened?

Boots moved behind Hao and whistles were blown. Five minutes until the changing of shifts. Good. He was finished staring at the same blades of grass and distant opposing headwear. He imagined that his counterparts on the other side were as well. Let them be distracted and he might put a bullet through some boy's head if it came down to it. He took notice as Captain Hu's crisp strides slapped through the mud behind him. He turned about and looked and then he saw and heard it at the same time.

They were like giant flies, or like pebbles, thrown by some bratty child, slapping the muddy trench wall behind him, but the sound was jolting, even though he had heard it hundreds of times already. Bits of wood splintered. People ducked and covered. The captain's head let out a spray of thin red blood and he tumbled to the side.

Hao ducked and covered. Mortal terror pounding in his temples, pushing through his arteries, he gripped his rifle and steadied himself. He could hear their war cries. Above him flew bolts of magic across a nascent battlefield as his mages tried desperately to hold off the yasoi mages. He poked his head up, morbidly unafraid of losing it, and they were rushing forward. His rifle already loaded, Hao snapped off an ineffectual shot. The birds had all taken flight and were gone and, for the longest, most painful moment, he envied them.



Encounter Four: Oirase



It was a cool grey afternoon. Banners of different colours flapped and strained in a stiff wind and the sea was green and choppy. Two men sat at a table on an island. It was barely more than a rock with some scrub and a handful of small, scraggly trees.

"Surely, you must understand our concerns," said the human, Admiral Altan Uzun of the Virangish Imperial Navy, "when a foreign war fleet appears mere miles from one of our greatest cities, trying to force passage of the Bin Ada." He was a great stout man, dark hair flecked with grey, shoulders like an ox, upper lip adorned with a magnificent curling mustache. His eyes flicked uneasily to the hundreds of great grey warships anchored about. Levied against them, his own fleet - what he'd been able to scramble on two-days' notice - was at a disadvantage, and he knew it.

"I pray you exercise prudence, Admiral," came the yasoi's reply. Commodore Caltas'rithar'narop was an imposing figure: near seven feet tall, lean and silver-haired, with a great seafarer's beard, twin swords worn at each hip, and six pistols strapped across his chest. His wide-brimmed hat was placed on the table between them in consideration of the wind. "We have come only to treat with our brethren to the south of you. The thousand islands is a narrow channel and we must pass by your land. Virang need not fear us."

And yet, Admiral Uzun knew, there was much to be wary of, for Virang - along with its neighbour Malabash - lay directly between Tarlon and the lands of the Constantian yasoi. A good many years ago, it had conquered what later became the breakaway state of Paggon, now a human enclave within yasoi lands. What was currently happening to that other human enclave in yasoi lands - Ai Medda - was not lost upon him. If he stood and fought, he would likely perish, along with much of his fleet. Virang would be weakened, but it now stood as humanity's shield: an unenviable position. Reinforcements would take days yet to trickle in. He would need to stall, but his counterpart would be a fool not to be wise to the gambit. "It is not Virang that I am concerned about," he replied leadingly.

The Commodore regarded him steadily, the gold of his epaulettes shining faintly under a brief break of sun. Waves crashed ashore some twenty yards distant. Gulls bleated and wheeled overhead. "Our first concern is internal yasoi matters," he promised, scowling. "After that, I follow the directives of my emperor. Be reasonable, Admiral, and we might avoid so much unnecessary bloodshed. That is not my desire here."

"But you will not hesitate," concluded the Admiral. He stroked his chin thoughtfully. "It appears to me that you are in faintly a better position than I." He rubbed at his nose and leaned back from the map between them. "Certainly, based on numbers alone, you would appear to have the advantage, but even a victory - should Fashdal ordain it - would cost you dearly." He shook his head. "Why do you not sail the Asperic and spare us both this confrontation?"

Caltas took up his hat from the table, revealing the remainder of the map, and set it atop his head once more. "It is a matter of free navigation, I'm afraid." He shook his head. "Nobody owns the sea, Admiral." Left unspoken was the uniquely yasoi assertion that nobody should own, in perpetuity, the land, either. "I pray you pull back your ships and guard your ports if you believe it necessary. Guard the ports of Paggon if that sovereign nation will accede to it, but let us pass, or we shall have a war of it, and I do not want that."

"The other human nations will not take kindly to this incursion," Altan tried, playing one of the few cards he had left. He had resolved that he would not sacrifice the lives of his men in vain here.

His counterpart nodded, rising to his feet. "No, I imagine not," he agreed. "Then perhaps we shall fight it out later, on more equal terms. For now, pull back your ships or a great many people shall die here for nothing."

He would not be dissuaded, then. The Virangishman let out a sigh and grabbed his map, rolling it up and standing. "So be it." He nodded tightly. "Until we meet again, Commodore." They shook hands. "Until we meet again, Admiral."



Encounter Five: Damy



It was a foggy morning and Ansol was by the seashore. The air was grey and heavy and the waves washed in and out with a forlorn sort of echo. Above him loomed the grey-dun cliffs and circling flights of seabirds. The shore was a thick, crunchy sort of gravel, strewn with rounded cherry-sized rocks, seaweed, and bits of old detritus.

Sarsiigo Bay was the only major bay in Tanso not home to a sizable town. Perhaps the ground was too rugged or the tides too extreme. Maybe there was something just too... wild about this place. It was, even under the glow of the sun, almost preternaturally bleak.

Yet, today, it should have been busy. The five moon tides were rolling in even now, and the vast bounty that the sea did not want would soon be deposited here. Already, he could see the great carcass of a recently-deceased sandbar thresher rolling in the distant waves, and he left some space between it and himself. It would stain the sea red with blood and draw dozens of scavengers, each greater than a twelve-year-old boy with one arm could hope to contend with.

The problem was that the beach was nearly empty. Perhaps two or three other figures, swaddled in thin layers of sheets and rags, picked their way along the seawall, but that was it. The boy was old enough to understand now that he lived in a broken place, that the great towers of Eracluun and Samsoiya, festooned with moss and creepers and smelling faintly, indelibly of mildew, were remnants of some greater former society that had existed there. That he fed himself, his mother, and his sisters off of the sea's unwanted remnants was a poignant reminder. Still, he was far from the only one who did so. When the gangs were not roving about or some pirate crew stopped here to clean their ship's hull, he was one of many.

It was eerily empty, and the waves moaned and sighed and the fog rolled... and Ansol could not help but feel as if he was not alone, as if the eyes of something great and terrible lurked just beyond the veil. He stretched out with his senses, warily, looking for perhaps some great thresher, dragon, or halassa as had once taken his arm, but there were none.

He was just bending down. He'd just found a nice tin pail at the edge of the waves and fished it out. The boy straightened in the surf to drop it into the basket strapped across his back. He straightened, and then he saw them: Black Giants in the Mist.

Vast black shapes materialized within the near depths of the veil, and they were moving for shore. The pail never made it into his basket. Instead, it fell at his feet and Ansol began backing away, caught between curiosity and terror. They were more of them and they were huge, looming over him and - now - piercing the fog.

Ships! They were ships, but like none he'd ever seen. They were immense and lumbering and painted deep grey, with great towering forecastles and ramps drawn up a hundred feet or more in the air, like an elephant's trunk poised to strike!

Fear won out, eventually, and he took off down the beach, for the small gap in the cliffs where it was easy to climb back up, though it was never easy for him. Climbing was never easy. The sand and the gravel sucked at his energy, but he found more, glancing back as a dozen of the titans arrived. There were people on them, leaping off now. Ropes whisked through the air and landed in the surf and the gravel.

He scrambled through the gap and up the incline, the few items he'd collected thumping about in his basket, the rough rocks biting against his skin. Great clanks and groans issued from the grey ships and now he could see, from his higher vantage point, that there were dozens more in the distance, and more beyond them. A frigid wave raced through his body and he watched one of those colossal trunks - the ramps - descend, two great steel spikes on its underside reminding him of a snake's fangs.

Then a second, a third, a fifth. He reached the top and turned. Up and down the beach, all of those... Elephant Ships were releasing their 'trunks'. These crashed down with a muted thunder that echoed through the damp air, and they were not so very far from him, in truth. He could see the figures descending. He could make out their rifles and their tall hats and the way their brass buttons caught the faint light and gleamed. But then he saw the one with the great hat and saw the feathers within it and he realized that these newcomers were not short and fat like huusoi. They were his own people.

Ansol was already turning to run again, but he stopped and squirmed into a small thicket. There were hundreds, now, marching down the trunks of the Elephant Ships, carrying all manner of things. Dragons took off from their decks and began circling overhead. Wagons full of supplies rumbled across, and there were hundreds more ships behind them. To his amazement, some of them did not stop. Instead, as they approached the Elephant Ships, their bows began to... unthread themselves. Planks wove apart to form great, stretching, tentacle-ringed mouths. These Kraken Ships rose and reared up and he could see, now, how low and flat the sterns of the Elephant Ships were. He watched in wonder as they latched on, as the ships joined!

They were soldiers, who came out, of course: yasoi soldiers, and he knew they must not be from here, for Tanso could barely muster an army. His jath'nan assured him it had not always been so, but the disease of the darkmen had ravaged all the lands of the yasoi - all except for distant Tarlon. These, then, must be Tarlonsoi. What on Oirase's green turf were they doing here!? They were spreading out now: forming parties, setting up barricades and tents and disappearing in little streams into the leading edge of the forest.

Other great ships approached. They were strange, misshapen, lopsided things, but then he saw how they, too, opened. One side of each split as they approached the Elephant and Kraken ships and their soldiers disembarked in perfect order. It was like watching some great device of many parts operate for the very first time. The thick shells of these Mussel Ships formed walls as they affixed themselves to the others and dug themselves into the ground, reaching a hundred feet in the air to protect the rest of their allies. Still they came: this endless Grey Fleet, and they were here now, in Tanso, in Constantia.




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Hidden 1 yr ago Post by A Lowly Wretch
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A Lowly Wretch The Listless Loiterer

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A couple weeks after her return from Rettan...



As the waning evening light cast it's orange hues in anemic beams through the dense glass window across her desk there she sat, pouring over notes on anatomy that well surpassed her colleagues. While others were still immersed in middling studies of what makes the fundamental cores of their craft she was already breaking into the territory of modern forerunners in her field. True, she couldn't chill a cup of water or nudge it over without touching it but methods that were only tangential to her purpose were not of immediate necessity and thus relegated to later concerns, well after she masters binding.

Standing up from her desk she looked out from her window, estimating the remaining hours in the day. One might think that by knowing temporal magic she would just use that to tell what time it was but in fact the opposite was true. Being able to use the magic necessitated that she attune her awareness to the flow of all things, not the other way around. The flowing sands of an hourglass did not create the passage of time. Rather, the passage of time is what facilitates the flowing of sand.

_
From her dorm she stepped out into the streets. The bustle of movement of everyone in constant need to be somewhere in time, the miasma of odors from biological waste constantly leaking from the myriad of creatures contained within these stone shells, The dying orange tint which bathed everything in the shadows of all which stood, This was the city that she's called home for well over a year. In the wake of the mayhem her own peers had wrought in the foreign lands of Rettan it put into perspective just how fragile this all was. Like an organism unto itself the city had many moving parts, each part playing it's own role in facilitating the health of the sum. A great beast, each component supping life unto themselves from it's reserves as it pulls in nutrients through the veins they call trade paths. All nutrition had to come from somewhere however. As she read of the great whales who partake of great schools of krill cities too consume great numbers of smaller beasts to feed the many muscles and neurons that many would call people.

And that which is not consumed becomes waste.

Pulling into an alleyway not far from her destination she cakes her form in the special light warping powder which she had procured over in Rettan. Now mostly transparent she slinked her way over to a sewer cover, descending through into system below. In the cramped lightless tunnels where water displaced all manners of sewage which flowed into it from the drains above Trypano made her way through. She lacked light but it was hinderance to her for she could sense the very matter around her, the channels of air and water contrasting strongly against the led and copper pipes. The odor was foul but it was nothing to her but the scent of life itself.

_
While her destination was a winding trail off from where the entrance to the catacombs proper was she was cautious, wary of taking routes too direct should she be followed. Coming up to a section of the sewer where the waters were thin she pressed her hand up against the pipe's surface, it's metal rippling as she submerged into the material. She was simply breaking down the portions coming into contact with her, reconstituting them back into places she no longer occupied. It was a fairly basic binding technique, elevated to impressive heights with the amount of precision and detail used to make it conform to her shape. Once through the material is as it once was, any sign of passage not visible in it's structure.

Down, down she traveled into the stony depths, shelves upon shelves lines with human skulls, alcoves featuring urns where the bones of the deceased are stored. It would seem at some point back in the catacomb's history that it eventually became used to a point where expanding it's depths to accommodate the bodies became unfeasible, the remains reorganized as such to host more and more bodies with only the wealthy and important retaining coffins, at least those that weren't stored in their own mausoleums anyhow. The architecture itself was aged, still holding up but not entirely sound as some areas had collapsed be it from seismic activity, construction from above or other such incidents which have worn at it's structural integrity.

While the path in the upper layers remained largely unchanged Trypano had made a change of her own in recent times: Past a wall that she would pass through in a similar manner to the one up in the sewers she had constructed a tunnel which lead away from the overall network of the catacombs. It's structure was inspired by nature, namely the fine workmanship of the humble ant. While not able to make her tunnels small enough to avoid displacing too much load-bearing soil she used shaped dragon marrow to reinforce it, the spine supporting the roof of the tunnel while ribs lined the walls, an interlocking series of scales laid flat against one another keeping finer dirt from sifting through. Even with all this she kept her tunnel rather claustrophobic in diameter as smaller structures were ultimately stronger than larger ones. She had to crawl on her stomach down a fair ways into the depths where her lab awaited.

_
The lab itself was built in a similar manner to the lower chambers of the catacombs, stone bricks adhered together with sandwyrm claw matter instead of plaster to reinforce the structure. This is where all her work had been moved to. While the place Ingrid had picked for her worked well for a time it was decided that she needed greater secrecy for her work was needed should her business partner prove unreliable, something which proved to be the case after the excursion to Rettan. This location was still not perfect but would have to suffice for the time being.

In the corner of the room stood what looked to be a barrel of organs adorned with various crimson sigils. Through liberal use of blood magic she had built this semi-organism from her own flesh which would consume matter placed within to keep it alive while a pair of lungs contained within would breath in unusable air, converting it into breathable air thanks to the blood magic runes that were being kept healthy through the digestion pool within the barrel. There were also a few plants decorated around it to assist in the process.

Numerous shelves lined the walls, containing jars with various organs and other such samples within, all adorned with similar blood magic runes. She calmly meandered her way to the shelf where numerous blood samples were kept, taking several out from her purse and setting them in the racks with the others. She took a couple minutes to refresh the runes upon the various containers as these enchantments were limited in their longevity, a common frustration of hers she was looking to remedy. There were many tables and slabs throughout the long chthonic chamber with many a strange and possibly macabre experiment adorning them. The slimes she had gathered did not seem like they would fair well in such a clinical and controlled environment so she simply left them to wander a closed circuit of hers up in the catacombs, many a number of breeding pools and nutrient baths left for them to enjoy. She would have to remember to refresh the waters and supply more nutrients to their feeding baths before she returned to the surface.

_
From the top of the room suspended by chains upon a frame was a partially formed dead carcass of the sandwyrm they had slain some time ago. She had collected a fair number of it's parts in that auction and been spending time trying to regrow it's flesh from the organs she had salvaged. Still, no matter how much of it she could manage to regrow she couldn't bring new life to the replicated cells of the dead. She had spent some time trying to recreate the rest of it's enormous body but there were always difficulties in trying to recreate something that was incomplete. This was a lesson she had learned well in her efforts to try and clone herself. Upon many of the tables were dead bodies, her bodies. Much of them were malformed, incomplete not unlike the sandwyrm carcass itself. Trying to replicate an entire body from the memories of only a few cells presented innumerable difficulties. Not even being able to see the cells at a close enough scale to analyze their inner workings largely left her working on her blood-child instincts, instincts which while keen were running up against the limit of what she was able to understand through intuition alone.

All the bodies were being suspended in decay using blood magic of course but most if not all stood no chance at being alive. Such failures brought to mind the enormity of the tasks ahead of her as she put away the samples she had taken from the battle at the imperial palace. A vial of Ogaurac blood, Smirking Dragon she believe they once called him; A plum from an enchanted grove which was rumored to possess unique qualities and last but not least the scale shed at the scene of Wu Long's battle with the emperors. The scale in particular posed to her the greatest challenge as a scale was similar in nature to finger nails or hair. The matter itself was already dead, much harder to rebuild living structures out of as it no longer possessed any will to regrow. Like a fingernail however scales had roots. Roots sometimes could hold nerves in them, nerves which required blood. While this scale might not have still held potential for that now temporal was beginning to open up possibilities. The scale might not have any potential currently but there was once a time where it was fresh, where the nerves that gave it it's sense of touch were fresh. With a bit of manipulation she hypothesized it possible to rejuvenate it into a state where the will to regrow would still linger.

Of course, there was no hope of regrowing the deceased ogaurac or the fallen serpent handler if she couldn't even animate her own body hewn from fresh ingredients. This train of thought brought her attention over to the centerpiece of her lab: A slab upon which a mold of her own body laid. It was made of wax formed from human fat, her own fat. During her sculpting classes she would chuckle internally knowing that those around her never know that this was what she practicing for. All those human figures shaped from stone, marble or clay were simply preambles to forging molds within which she would craft a living being. Surrounding that slab were canopic jars, shaped from glass instead of pottery so one might see which organs floated in the neutral organic fluid within. These jars were enchanted like all the rest but these samples were particularly fresh, carved straight from her own body and sealed within so their death cycle could be delayed. A piece of liver, a chunk of heart, a strip of intestine, a dab of bone marrow, even most of her womb, there was numerous pieces of herself which she had extracted with deliberate care. She even had to apply only a limited use of painkilling agents for these surgeries so as to not taint the samples. She was no stranger to self afflicted agony, something she often took to deliberately so as to challenge her focus. There were always going to be times where she would not have the luxury of pain killers or a reprieve from discomfort. She would not allow her focus to waver, even under the most trying of circumstances.

_
Such is as it was. The parts were all there, awaiting one final piece before she begins another attempt in earnest: a sliver of her brain stem. Her plan is that with enough of a body preserved fresh enough she could utilize the will to regrow within each respective element and grow each part accurate to the piece that it was shaped from. Of course, insight from the book that her and her new business partner Xiuyang had acquired could aid in this but she was prepared to press on nonetheless. She had a plan as to how she would extract this piece of her brain stem as well but it required further advancements in her temporal studies. She needed to bridge the gap and make the jump from simply anchoring points in space and time to actually maneuvering around them. This was necessary for many things, especially the blood bank: an enchanted storage which would allow her to use temporal distortion to delay the decay of organic materials much longer than the blood enchantments were able to. Instead of simply keeping organic materials vitalized she'd be able to cease their temporal progress entirely ensuring that nothing could occur within to bring about decay and diminish the sample's will to regrow.

That was a future matter however. For the time being she simply renewed her blood marks, documented any changes to the other bodies and/or samples and then left back up her bone passage to the main catacombs. She spent a bit of time with her slime samples, cleaning and feeding them whilst studying their behavioral patterns including this new Blue Killer slime which she had acquired from Rettan. While it's effects in Ingrid were disappointing it was clear there was more to learn from this enigmatic invertebrate. The Tsar Bomba was growing nicely to a most prodigious size as well, something she kept a measure on.

Once she was finished with all that she returned up from the catacombs, taking a separate route up from the sewer so as to be predictable. Once out onto the surface she used binding and chemical magic to eliminate contaminants from the sewers, leaving her almost exactly as she was before she went down below. She made her way down the streets in the dying twilight hours back to her dorm before their sleep curfew would enter effect. An annoying ritual, having to constantly come up simply to be seen sleeping where they believe she belongs. This isn't truly where she belonged however. There was no place in the world of these mundane humanoids for a creature like her. Only down below could she truly be herself.

Only down below could she truly build herself.
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Hidden 1 yr ago 1 yr ago Post by Force and Fury
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Force and Fury Actually kind of mellow

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A Darkness in the Light


It took about five hours before Jocasta was feeling the effects. She lay in bed, tangled in her covers, legs somewhere beyond her senses, as they always were, head only now emerging from the haze of an evening that had been immensely rewarding. As was proper, Yalen did not share her bed, and it was excuse enough for her to avoid an intimacy that she both craved, on some level, and that... she was not ready for - might never be ready for. Yet, she had changed. The guardedness, the paranoia, the vindictiveness that had defined her for years returned in fits and starts: nasty thoughts about people like Maura, Ingrid, and even Abdel, though she was no angel herself. Yet, she was letting go, an it felt good when she did not think of the Academy, the Volti, and the shadowy operatives of the Quentic Church - when she did not consider the Mad Avatar who, even now, walked the grounds of Ersand'Enise: all of them forces that tried to either control her or kill her.

She was sick. She could feel a rough cough in her chest, and so she turned immediately and almost prefunctorily to the magics that had always dealt with such a nuisance. She purged it from her body and took a moment to reach down and untangle her legs. Then, she rolled over onto her side, closed her eyes, and dosed herself with the right chemical spell to knock herself out.

Jocasta awoke with aches and pains, an upset stomach, and that cough: that cough she had purged. Sitting herself up in bed, she concentrated and tried a different spell to rid herself of it. She levered herself into her wheelchair, collecting the fringe of her nightgown so it might not get in the way, and tried to take a deep breath. She ended up hacking and wheezing and now her heart pounded in alarm. she could feel her pulse in her temples and the adrenaline pushing through her, light and electric and making her hands tremble as she put them to her wheels and... Where was she going to go, really?

Jocasta paced, instead, stopping to cough again: the sort of deep vicious one that strained every muscle she could feel and left her head heavy and reeling and her vision starred. This, she knew, now, for while it was not the sort that she used, it was poison all the same. She had let her guard down. She had paid the price. There was no time to waste or she would be dead, just like that, when she had finally started actually living, when she had people she cared about. Briefly, she considered taking the way out. She might've, a year ago, so long as she could find and obliterate whoever had done it. She'd been an empty thing before Yalen, before Ayla and Zarina, and Marceline. No. She would live, and she would find who'd done this. Systematically, she would eliminate suspects, find the culprit, and then she would tear them limb from limb.

Forcing back another wretched cough and settling her roiling stomach, Jocasta reached out to seize the reins of space and time. Her heart - that poor, mistreated little organ that had kept her alive for twenty-odd years - thudded within her chest. No. She would not let it down. She focused and reeled: back about a day, for very few poisons took longer than that to act. The world glowed and skewed and stretched for a moment, like a tunnel of light. She set hands to wheels and started to push forward -




Black tendrils wrapped around her waist from nowhere, bleeding black nothingness into her white nightgown. With a concerted burst of power, Jocasta tore them to shreds. She cast about herself. What the fuck are you!? she screamed inwardly, wheeling faster, racing for the opening at the other end that she knew to be a place and time one day ago.

The broken blackness simply recongealed, and she knew it for a knower. An irresistible force spilled her from her wheelchair, and the tentacles seemed to reach out from everywhere, lashing and binding. She tried to rise into the air, but was brought crashing down. They had wrapped themselves about her legs. Useless things! and, presently, constricted around her waist, her shoulders, and her neck.

Jocasta superheated herself and her surroundings, blasting and burning, and the tentacles fell away, but for one wrapped around her ankle: one that she couldn't feel. She was brought low again. Now, they were merciless. They stabbed and sliced. They battered her fragile body and smashed her head into the ground. Her world swam and she clawed for consciousness, for some power - this thing was unfathomably strong. Her efforts were not enough.




She awoke from her sleep, rubbing her eyes, and immediately took notice of the cough. It wasn't gone. Her earlier magic hadn't purged it. Groggily, Jocasta sat up and rubbed at her eyes, only to be met with a wave of dizziness and nausea. She shook her head to clear it and her world swam. Something was wrong. This was... a bad illness, out of nowhere. Before her paranoia could build, she tried a new spell to clear it. Levering herself out of bed, she settled into her wheelchair and waited, breath shallow, hands trembling. No improvement. If anything, she felt... worse than she thought she should've. Something, in general, was 'off'.

Anxiously, Jocasta glided across her room over to the tall mirror in the corner. There were no outward signs of affliction yet, but the magic, she could soon tell, had done nothing, and her head felt heavy and strange and... Someone had been inside of it. Someone had tampered with her memory, just as they had when she'd been a girl, just as they had when they'd removed the first nine years of her life. That was when she knew this for what it was: it was poison and there was an ongoing attempt on her life.

She reached for the threads of space and time, quickly, angrily. She would find this hidden enemy and reduce them to a blood heap, begging her for mercy. First, she had to live. She had just begun pulling herself into the space between time when she felt it: a presence. Somehow, she knew to look for it and she knew it for an enemy. Jocasta created five of herself, but it was not fooled. Deadly black tendrils shot out at her, and the girl did not even bother to try wheeling away. Calling on all of her kinetic abilities, she rocketed away as they seized her wheelchair and crumpled its sturdy frame effortlessly.

To be caught, she knew instantly, was death.

So she raced for that exit. She raced with all that she had. Tentacles licked and snapped at her heels and she felt a tug, stalling her momentum. Without hesitation, she obliterated the tangled foot. Blood spilled from the stump, but it was a blessing right now that she could not feel any of it. A great dark presence loomed behind her and, on instinct alone, she rolled to the side, narrowly avoiding a massive crashing stalk that shook time itself. She just needed to make it to the far end. She was almost there. Another one of those wicked tendrils dug into her side and she bit back a scream, nearly dropping to the ground. A third seized her remaining leg and this, too, she tore free. If she could just make it. If she could just...

Then, somehow, she was there. She had passed through and the nightmare was over. It was... morning and she was in bed. Frantically, hands searched her body. They reached down and felt two useless feet and she'd never been so grateful for them. They patted at her side and there was no blood or wound. Soft, golden daylight was streaming in through the crack in the curtains and there was her cup of water on her nightstand, undisturbed. There was her wheelchair, whole and in its usual spot by her bedside. She took a deep breath, and then another and tears spilled down her cheeks. They were free and easy: how easy!

But... she still did not know who had poisoned her. Were they working with the knowers somehow? Or was it something more mundane? The church? The Volti? The Academy? The Mad Avatar. Jocasta swung herself out of bed. She would not repeat any of the day's original actions. She had a witch hunt to undertake, and so help her Shune, she would find her witch.

She began to shrug out of her nightgown, to prepare for a day unlike any she had experienced in quite some time. That was when she looked down absently. That was when she saw the thin black marks: three painful black lashes about her willowy waist. They had stayed with her. They had marked her.



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Hidden 1 yr ago 1 yr ago Post by Ti
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Ti Bruja

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Event: Best Foot Forward | Location: Ersand'Enise


"So..." began Penny conversationally. This was weird. There was no way it wasn't going to be weird. She'd not gone an hour the entire week without thinking of Ashon. Now, he was here, and she was different, and she didn't know what to say. "Putting my best foot forward is actually gonna be a choice now." She chuckled nervously and then blushed. Shune, she was bad at humour. She shrugged quickly as if to dismiss the poor joke. "But not really. The new one is... kinda deadweight." She was still on crutches, trying to remember to use this extra leg that had never been a part of her. She smiled awkwardly and shook her head as if to wipe away all of her other words. "Anyway, what about you?" Her eyes were large and concerned as she looked at him, in an effort not to be completely self-absorbed. "How are you holding up?"

Ashon looked toward Penny in a quizzical manner; it certainly felt like one of those situations being made far more awkward than it should be. Was it a Yanii thing to overcomplicate a heart felt union? He simply opened his arms toward her and moved in, clasping his arms around her and holding her tightly against him, giving the girl a loving squeeze. “I missed you, lelan’elar.”

"Girlfriend," she murmured, burying her head in his chest. "I remember that." She separated herself by a few inches and looked up. "Oilan'elar." She rose onto her tiptoes, remembering to use her new ones as well, to give him a kiss.

"Anyway..." she went out to arms-length after a moment. "Talk to me." She swept some hair from her face. "What's new?" She smiled and leaned in, grinning. "Get to abuse Cal a bit?" He... had no questions about where she'd got an entire other leg. This was... well... honestly, just why she liked him. Certain things that she got all worked up about just didn't really matter as much as she thought they did.

“Good, you’re not avoiding me then.” He grinned in response to her questions, his focus on what was currently important. The topic of an additional leg could wait, or so he thought. It seemed like she was pressing for more information about him, and perhaps it wasn't what he wanted to share at this moment. He reached out and held her hand, gently squeezing it.

"Cal? He's doing fine. He's got himself some new spoons. The others are... well, they're planting trees," he said, using a Yasoi expression. He gave her a pained smile. "Five haven't returned."

Penny felt something seize her stomach. She'd died too, in the strictest sense, brought back only through the use of multiple unsavoury magics. That would... have to be unpacked eventually, but she sensed that he was allowing space for the heavier things later on. For now... she furrowed her brow, worried. "Who?" Come to think of it, she hadn't seen Manfred, or Qasem. She hadn't seen Casii either…

“Casii, Ismet, Manfred, Qasem, and Ymiico haven’t returned with us,” he said, shaking his head to emphasize the finality of the statement. “It was a war zone. The portal dropped us into the middle of an ambush, and it only got worse from there. The place is now a blank spot on the map. The source appears to be from my homeland, Hyparii, led by an individual known as the Mad Avatar with some Perrench connections…” He gazed into her eyes and offered a warm smile. There was much he wanted to ask her and even more to say, though choosing to focus on the present. He leaned in closer, tenderly kissing her on the lips. “I fear what I would do without you.”

Penny listened soberly. It was horrid news, but it had not settled in and would not for some time, until their loss became an extended thing: a real thing that she felt keenly. In turn, she swallowed, drew a deep breath, nodded, and forced a smile. "Next time, so help me Dami, we will face it together." She had thought herself strong. She had thought Ashon strong, but they both had been struck - she supposed - by just how far out of their depth they were against some of the true monsters of the world. A 'mad avatar'... She glanced down at her new leg and wondered for a moment, before banishing any thoughts along that line. They had each other for strength, both the emotional and physical varieties, but still, Penny wondered.

She placed her new foot carefully as she walked, trying to do it with only one crutch. "Jammy..." She took his hand and started to walk. "You ever... seen one of these before?" She paused and reached into her bag, extracting the magic lamp from it. True, it had changed her body, but it was not so bad having a spare leg in exchange for being alive when she would not have been otherwise. Perhaps this was the answer to at least some of the problems that loomed before them.

Ashon couldn’t help but chortle at an avatar of Vyshta praising Dami, or was that the ex-avatar? Perhaps Penny had bargained with the god, and he worked in mysterious ways. He was surprised at how quickly Penny appeared to be adjusting to the leg as well; she was truly exceptional in all she did. Part of him wondered about it; it was certainly a Tusker in the room, and Penny appeared incredibly self-conscious about it. He placed his arm around her, a supportive hold disguised as a hug.

What was even more surprising was the way Penny brought out an oil lamp and held it as an item of significance. He had noticed she kept complaining about how he rarely used a lantern, as Yasoi eyes are better than Yanii eyes when it came to the dark. “Ah yes, the great illuminator, the oil lamp. A device that has evaded us Yasoi for so long, leading us to stub our toes repeatedly at night, especially those of our Yanii lovers.” He grinned widely as she planted a kiss on the top of her head. “Is this your way of suggesting you want to move in?”

"Well, I've twice as many toes to stub now..." she sighed, grinning at him. Of course the lamp, unexplained, would lead him to think something else amusing. She'd been counting on it for a bit of levity. "I'll move in when I don't have to worry about falling fifty feet to my death if I roll over in bed." She stopped and gave him a little kiss, working the lamp over in her hands. "This is no ordinary lamp, Jammy. You know, in Virang and Inipor and Malabaash and that area, they have stories about magic lamps? About beings that emerge from them to grant wishes and play tricks?"

He smiled at first with the jest, though his expression soon shifted to one of puzzlement. "So, you found an oil lamp with an Ancient Demon in it?" His voice held a mixture of surprise and curiosity. However, as he contemplated the implications, his frustration grew evident. She had used the lamp. He turned to look at her, scrutinizing her intensely.

"I failed you, didn't I?" He wrapped his arms around her, squeezing tightly, his hug protective, as if trying to shield her from harm. "I should have been there," he muttered, his voice filled with regret and guilt.

Penny hugged him back. "And I should've been there for you." She squeezed deeply and just... breathed him in. "It was horrifying. I... more or less died." She shook her head. "But, unless there's a type of magic that lets us be in two places at opposite ends of the world at once..." She chuckled weakly. "Listen," she sighed, "It'll kill us if we keep dwelling on all the bad stuff, because there's lots." She separated with a small shrug, trying to push it from her mind. "But I'm here. You're here, and..." She flashed a smile. "That's all I really need to be happy for now. Besides, I'm telling you, for real: this thing's magic!"

He nodded, fully understanding that this moment was about her, not him, and that she needed his strength. "What's important is that you're here now, not there, even if it did cost you an additional leg," he said with a grin, trying to inject a touch of humour. "Luckily, it didn't cost you an arm, too. I'm not sure where they'd stick a third one," he quipped playfully.

He looked at her with a knowing smile as she brought up the lamp once more. "Just like I don't need to be a mind reader to know what you're thinking. You want to use it again," he said, bringing his hand to her chin. "Sorry, but you can't have a second boyfriend. The world can't handle another me."

Penny made a pouty face. "No, I suppose it can't." She took his hand in hers and pursed her lips mock-thoughtfully. "We may have to adjust the world a bit." There was scarcely a hint of mirth to her voice. "You know," she continued, leaning on only one crutch and tentatively using her 'spare leg'. "Having at least a hand free is a major benefit to this."

She began leading him towards Market Square, where various food carts usually congregated on weekend evenings. "How do you feel about ice cream, Jammy?" She swung their joined hands playfully back and forth. "I could really go for some..."

He looked at her and smiled broadly. "Perhaps we could garnish it with saffron," he suggested, making a playful motion with his hand as if he were crushing and sprinkling the spice on top. She had a way of making even the most mundane things sound delightful, like casually asking for expensive items as if they were everyday staples, such as where he kept his silver cutlery. Of course, now he could potentially borrow some from Cal. While he wasn't opposed to ice cream, he certainly wasn't the type to browse through the Yanii markets late at night to find it, and he wouldn’t deprive Penny of it either.

They had their ice cream, for what it was worth, wandering about the market in the burgeoning heat of a late stresian evening, just... being a couple. They held hands, which was new and nice. Penny's hands had always been occupied. Now, only one was and, if she learned to master this new leg, to see it as part of herself, both would be free. She leaned into his side, skipped around him, and fluttered from booth to booth. Of course, she paid.

Bits more came out about their experiences away from Ersand'Enise: the highs and the lows, Ashon's imposing new armour and weapon, Penny's... well, not much, really. Perhaps this would not be as other things had been. It would not all come out in one great cathartic burst. She had slept too long on her own and, that night, climbed into his bed in the Ever Tree with him.

She did not sleep well. It was the wee hours of the morning when she awoke with an unease in her stomach. She rushed to the edge, hopping the entire way out of habit, settled onto her knees, and hurled her last two meals and all of that delicious ice cream into the deep green of the canopy below. It most certainly did not taste as good coming back up.

"Seemed like someone indulged in a bit too much ice cream," Ashon quipped with a playful smirk as he lay on the bed. He was barely covered by the blanket, and he playfully pulled it along as he followed Penny to her side. Gently, he placed his hand on her back and began rubbing it in a comforting manner, trying to alleviate her discomfort. With his other hand, he carefully moved her hair out of the way as she wretched. "Do you want me to fetch some of Seviin's vail'crya? It might help with that unpleasant taste."

"It is customary to have a bite between different dishes as it removes any lingering tastes," he explained. He extended his hand, conjuring a fruit from the other room with his magic, which he then rolled around in his hand before peeling it, as it split into pieces. He offered it to her. "You translated it correctly," he added with a knowing smile. He then moved behind her, parting the blanket to wrap it around her from behind.

"Okay," Penny grumbled. "Maybe I don't punch you.." She softened it with a smile. She'd been moody, though, and she knew it. Then there was her stomach: even after heaving all of a meal into the abyss, it still felt...not right. She accepted the grapefruit with a nod of thanks and bit into it. She'd never minded the taste and it was good at cleansing the palate. She scanned inside herself with magic, searching for the problem. Then, her brows jerked together. She tightened momentarily. "Ashon, my love?" She twisted on the spot to face him, juices dribbling down her chin. She remembered to put her spare foot on the floor and use it. She regarded him with a detached sort of earnestness.

He tilted his head to the side as he regarded and listened to her. His arms were around her shoulders to keep her warm underneath the blanket as she gave him one of those looks. He offered her a big grin and kissed her forehead, encouraging her to continue.

She breathed in. She breathed out. "I'm pregnant."

It was then that he felt a change occur upon hearing the news of becoming a father. In this precious moment, he opened his mouth and delivered his first Dad joke, “Hi Pregnant, I’m Ashon.”

Penny had a new leg now, and she knew exactly what to do with it. If these were the first children Ashon'amar'loiyang had ever fathered (and she certainly hoped they were), they would also be the last.



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Hidden 1 yr ago 1 yr ago Post by Force and Fury
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Force and Fury Actually kind of mellow

Member Seen 4 days ago





Summer of Love





After the roaring success of Leon's concert, a couple of students, heading back, encounter a clandestine - but perhaps not unwelcome - surprise.


The Chapel





Rikard, having gone to bed with some regrets, finds himself going to the chapel in the morning, but not all is as it seems.


Finding the Groove





The Founders' Day Faire wraps up with a handout of magical hats and mysterious coins. Meanwhile, students pour through portals for Mother's Day as one of them schemes.


Paranoia: Part One





Jocasta, shaken, begins identifying suspects in her near-death experience. She makes plans to confront them.


Paranoia: Part Two





Jocasta first confronts Volto Argento, gaining some insight into his way of thinking in the process.


Good Works





Jocasta visits with Gregoire and Genevieve, two victims of student carelessness last year. She donates what she can to them while trying not to patronize.


Paranoia: Part Three





A brazen attack on Juulet results in a second clash with a familiar foe. Some things are resolved. Some aren't.


Lovers and Letters





Zarina wakes up to an empty bed, but her new lover hasn't necessarily fled in the traditional sense.


Espionage





A team of faculty from the Academy, led by Arch-Zeno Harrachora, conducts surveillance on the Grey Fleet. What they encounter leaves them uneasy.


A Covenant





Covenant, supposedly deceased, seem to have returned a year later, but they may not be on the same mission as before...


Radiant





In an intensive styling session, Tyrel is transformed into the goddess Vyshta for propaganda purposes, but struggles to find meaning in it.


Oath





A young healer and priestess, Seviin, struggles with the compromises she must make during war, and begins to question her committment.


Animal: Part One





Running all night from his relentless Grey Fleet pursuers, the brigand Anthon finally makes good on his escape: the only member of his gang to escape - or is he?


Animal: Part Two





The pirate Sivet, night watchwoman aboard the fair ship 'Panuut'ilwash', encounters a terrifying enemy that forces her to question all that she knows.


Emperor: Part One





Admiral Nevix'andoi'lasthan, commander of a great fleet, gives leave to the 'awakeners' to rouse 'His Dominion'.


Emperor: Part Two





Cascal'uumii'anthan, Emperor of Tantiac, sets foot in Constantia and delivers a stirring speech to rally his troops to the challenges that lie ahead.


Invasion





The Academy at Ersand'Enise welcomes visiting cohorts from around the world, and a euphoric attitude prevails, but stormclouds loom on the horizon.


Welcome...



...to chapter two of our fifth arc! This is where things really begin to kick into gear. There's plenty to do and engage with and, while some storylines might seem distant for the time being, they'll be impacting us sooner than you think! Wheels are turning. Plots are in motion. It's time to lead, follow, or get out of the way!

Just a note in terms of the melon derby: that'll kick off immediately next posting cycle. This is actually a rather short cycle in terms of posting, despite the plethora of content. In about one week, we'll be posting everything concerning the derby and some special posting rules will apply.

If you have any questions, as always, feel free to ask myself or any of the mods on discord! For now, however, here's a list of useful links and documents:


Yasoi Language

Mudville Election Candidates

Magical Hat List

Drafted Teams

Great Melon Derby Rules

Sipenta Calendar



Happy Posting!


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Hidden 1 yr ago Post by BlackRoseSiren
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BlackRoseSiren

Member Seen 36 min ago

Spoonful of Lavender

Featuring: Esmii @BlackRoseSiren and Roslyn @Fallenreaper
Place: Ersand’Enise Academy of Thaumaturgy
Time: Lepdes (29th of Assani), After Classes


"Class dismissed!" The instructor's voice rang across the field.

Roslyn's form jumped, her head jerked to the direction. Several students had begun to drift back toward the stables signaling the end of class. With a deep breath, Roslyn clicked her tongue and tugged the reins around. As once told, she squeezed her legs into Bay's belly drawing an indignant snort from the mare. She slowed, her hooves dug into the dirt and kicked up clods behind her.

In a less than graceful execution, the pair made their way back toward the stables.

Once the clip clap of the hooves on the cobblestone caught her ears, Roslyn dismounted. Her boots hit the hard ground as she continued to walk around the building. Bay's breath misted heavy from the intense workout as Roslyn patted the mare's head gently. A snort of disapproval caused the girl to stop.

"Not today?" She asked, the horse side-eyeing her.

"Okay, I got the hint. Sorry, princess." Roslyn chuckled while she led the mare inside.

The horse’s skin flicked with a proud gesture, still following closely.

Hitching the reins to the stall door, Roslyn moved to the outdoor hand pump with a bucket in hand. She slid it underneath the spout and began to push the handle down. Once the water hit the rim, she hauled it back inside. Bay snorted again, letting Roslyn reach for the saddle's belt. It didn't take long to remove the worn tack and blanket underneath. Leaving it on the stall door, she grabbed the clean rag and washed off the sweat from the horse's form. She paid close attention to the areas around the pits and girth area. Next came the dry off.

Finished up with the wash down, she placed a blanket on the creature's flank. Bay exhaled and let Roslyn lead her into her assigned stall. The rest didn't take long to wrap up. Before leaving, the girl filled the feed trough and locked the door behind her.

Roslyn moved past her fellow classmates when her eyes caught the sundial nearby.

Esmii’s class had finished a bit early, so she quickly hurried to where Roslyn's class was to meet up with her and to be on time for once. Esmii was able to get there quicker than she thought she would, so she waited for Roslyn’s class to finish, she was petting Sage while she waited, then she noticed that her friend's class was starting to leave.

She quickly put Sage on her shoulder and walked towards the door to find Roslyn. As she noticed Roslyn she shouted to her. ”Hey Roslyn, over here. How was class, was it fun?”

When Esmii gets to Roslyn she goes to give her a hug, and just then Sage sniffed her and gave her a little nuzzle.

Roslyn went to respond, but Esmii's affectionate habits cut her short. Truth be told, it warmed the brunette's heart. A light tickle brushed her neck. As they separated, her hazel eyes spotted Sage. Instinctively Roslyn stretched out her finger. The dormouse brushed a plump cheek against her finger a few times before she retreated back.

"Class was… all right. But it’s always great to see you and your pets, Emsii. Well…almost all of them." Roslyn's thoughts went back to Reshta, Emsii's recent purchase. The Harlequin Kite Dragon didn't seem to like her at all no matter what she did.

Esmii smiled, and agreed ”Yeah, all of my pets are funny and different in ways. Newt and Sage are quite affectionate towards people, but Reshta only likes me and Sven at the minute, but Sven did say that she will get used to you slowly, so if you keep visiting she will get to know you better. I think some people may have done something to her, maybe that's how she lost her leg, poor girl.”

Esmii tries to hide the fact that she is upset, as she is thinking of possible situations that Reshta might have gone through. ”So where should we head off, do you want to have a look around town first or would you like to go back to The Evertree.”

Roslyn's lips pressed together, not fully believing it. However, it didn't stop her feeling a spark of pity for the creature.

"I wish people weren't so cruel sometimes. Thankfully, she's with someone that will care and treat her with respect. I'm a little surprised you don't get overwhelmed. A dragon is a lot to take care of." She couldn't see herself caring or affording one. Too expensive when she could barely care for herself.

Spotting the subtle discomfort, Roslyn reached out her hand. She hooked Esmii's finger with hers. A subtle gesture to get her friend out of her head.When Esmii gave her the choice, Roslyn’s lips pursed in thought.

"The Evertree this time, I'm a little sore from riding. Later I need to get more material for a dress, but I’m not too worried about it now. I don’t want to stay out too late."

Naturally Roslyn started toward the Yasoi’s dorms.

Esmii followed after Roslyn. She started to feel better when her friend held her hand. ”I think I don’t get overwhelmed because of Sven, he helps me so much, it really helps that he knows a lot about dragons, and how to care for them.”

"I wish I had his time management skills. How he does it is a mystery to me." Roslyn chuckled as the girls made their way across the field. Other students began to file out toward their dorms or into the city for last minute shopping, forcing them to drift to the side.

”Are you sure you are not in too much pain? If you need to rest we can and we don’t have to rush. Also I can’t wait to see the dress you are making, maybe you can teach me how to make dresses.”

"I've been in pain since I've started racing, but I need to get used to it. It’s nothing compared to the welts I got from the keelers. Those seemed to take forever to heal." Roslyn countered.

”Hmm, maybe I can look up a recipe and see if I can make you something for the pain.”

"Right now, my main issue is sleeping. As for teaching you about making dresses, I can try. They won’t be fancy. I thank Shune, I had learned something useful in my first year classes." A brief quiet passed over her thoughts, but Roslyn brushed it away. Her nightmares had started to ease up and she didn’t need to go backwards.

Esmii quietly listened to her friend, and her face dropped. She tried to hide that she was worried for her, but then decided not to as she has been finding it difficult to sleep after coming back from their last mission as well. And it might be better to talk about it than hide the truth. She sighed and said.

”I am also having trouble sleeping, but I have found a recipe for herbal tea that could help, and I have all of the ingredients at home, so we can practice making it. And I can give you a list of ingredients for you to buy. Would you like to make it with me? We can also talk about it, see if that helps too, if you want.”

Esmii then smiled at Roslyn, and tightened her grip on her hand.Esmii checked to see if Sage was warm enough on her shoulder, but she noticed that Sage had moved into the gap between the top of her dress and her chest, so she was fine.

At Esmii's kind offer, Roslyn smiled. She liked the fact that her Yasoi friend was attentive to her discomfort, rather than ignore or overlook it. It never felt good to simply melt into the background, but she had to admit she was rather talented at it.

"Have you considered..." Roslyn paused, trying to recall the right words.

"Jila'it hyco halan muuna?"

When the words slipped from her mouth, she cringed. She sounded horrible as she struggled with the verb's tense.

"I need to practice more…”

Esmii stopped and looked at her friend. ” Not bad and, Ta I juup jex a hyco halan muuna.” Esmii was happy that her friend was able to learn some of her language, as it’s quite difficult, even she sometimes has trouble.

Roslyn blinked at the rapid string of Yasoi uttered from Esmii's mouth. Her lips pressed together as her eyes squinted a bit, her mind trying to process everything said. The last bit was easy since she already said it. However... The first part was harder. Bit by bit, she tried to dig up each word from her memory.

"I understood Ta as yes, but ju-juup and jex completely escapes me. What do those mean?" She asked. It didn’t help that she had literally two languages, on top of her class over Xochi, she was learning.

”You are getting better. So let’s make our way to mine, and we can make the tea and have a talk about everything.” Esmii begins to walk in the direction of the Evertree, with her friend. ” I wonder if Jamboi will be there.” She giggled ” He might have some tea as well, he sometimes does if he likes the smell of the tea.”

Roslyn sighed, accepting the compliment. "Thanks, I really appreciate it. Also, if Ashon wants to join us, I don't mind. The more company, the better from my experience."

She paused with a thoughtful expression then added.

" I'm a little worried the other Yasoi might have issues with a... what's the term for what I'm called?" Roslyn bit her lip, uncertain if it was yaun or yanii or something else.

” The Yasoi word for human is huusoi or yanii.”

"I’ll try to remember that.”

Shortly, the large Evertree serving as the Yasoi dorms came into view. She stopped mid-step and glanced up, impressed by the tree's large size.

"Shune's library! How am I supposed to get up there?!?" She blurted out before thinking.

Esmii looked at Roslyn and laughed, ”Well I climb and jump up, but I am a Yasoi, but you could use your kinetic abilities to get up. Don’t worry Sven had the same worry. Also we can both use binding to make a rope or something.” Esmii then had a thought, that maybe they should build a ladder or stairs, to make it a bit easier for people to visit.

"Fair enough. Let's hope my practice pays off.”

Esmii then looked up and jumped to the closest branch above them and shouted, with a big grin on her face. ”Are you coming.” She then jumped to the next branch.

Roslyn sighed then began to slip off her shoes one by one. After stuffing them into her dress pockets, her knees bent and she drew in the heat. She kicked off the ground.

Air swirled about her before she landed onto the branch. It bounced slightly from the impact causing her balance to tilt. With a quick twist, she righted herself to the center. Roslyn flashed a grin at her friend.

"That was easier than I thought. Last time I tried, I slipped on the branch. Lets keep going, shall we?"

Esmii look and watched her friend on her first jump.”Yeah, keep going, you can do this.”

The pair leapt from one branch to another, scaling the giant tree until they reached the entrance.

Esmii kept a very close eye on her friend, giving her a hand whenever she needed help. Esmii was feeling worried, while they climbed, but she was trying really hard not to think of anything other than the climb. ”I can help you if you need me to. This next branch is tricky so I will hold my hand out for you.”

”I think I'm getting the hang of this. My father or grandfather didn’t have any magic, so it wasn’t used often at home. Grandfather especially liked the hands-on methods." Roslyn admitted. In fact, her father hadn't even registered on the RAS scale.

Esmii got herself ready and jumped to the next branch, then she started to climb up by using knots in the tree to reach the branch. She got herself steady on the branch, then shouted to Roslyn. ”Right, now copy what I did, and I'm ready whenever you are.” and she leaned over and lowered her hand ready for her friend to grab as she climbed to help her reach the branch.

"It looks simple enough..." She pulled back a small distance on the last branch. with a deep breath, Roslyn rushed forward. Her legs snapped up and her arms reached up for the knots. Toward the top, she bunched up her strength and pulled herself upward. Her outstretched hand caught Esmii as finished ascending.

Roslyn patted her dress clean of dirt, her bare feet still planted on the rough bark.

"Okay, all in one piece. A little dirty, but it could be worse."

Esmii smiled and pointed at a window. ”You see that window next to us, that’s open, It’s mine.” Then Esmii stood up, and said ”I will head in first, because I think Newt might rush over to whoever comes into the window.”.

She then grabbed another knot in the tree and climbed onto the window ledge. She then climbed into her bedroom. Suddenly Newt, noticing that she was back, he rushed over to her and nuzzled her face. ”Ok Roslyn I’m in and I have Newt, you can climb in.” She walked closer to the window just in case Roslyn needed a bit of help.

"Do you always climb in through the window?" Roslyn's eyes widened a touch as Esmii slipped inside.

”Sometimes I do, but not always.”

Putting her hesitation aside, Roslyn lifted up one leg and then joined her friend. As she lowered herself down the still, she caught sight of the bright, green dragon. The slender body twisted in Esmii’s hands before his head raised to Roslyn’s direction. Jaws opened to emit an excited chirp.

"Aww, I'll never get over how adorable Newt is." She commented, dropping to the floor.

”Yeah he really is cute.”

"So, how do we make this tea you’ve been going on about?”

Esmii placed Newt on the bed, and went to get the book that she found the herbal tea recipe in. She flicked through the pages, wishing she had used a bookmark, however like always she didn’t think that there was any point. ”Sorry I forgot to place a bookmark, I’m just looking for the page, yes found it here it is.” She walked back towards the table and placed the book down and showed Roslyn the recipe she had found.

Afterwards, Esmii went and grabbed all of the things they needed, and she checked to see if she had everything they needed, and likely she did, everything stored on a shelf in her room. ”Yes I have everything we need. Should we start making some now.” Esmii said while putting everything down on the table.

"It's fine, I know I often forget things." As Esmii looked into her book, Roslyn slid up beside her. It reminded her of a tincture recipe from class, but without the alcohol.

She took a step back to allow Esmii to look for the herbs, their heavy and dried scent hung in the air.

"Yes, it might calm my nerves. Can I get a dried mixture for a tincture? I'll put a little bit in a beer and drink it before I go to bed." Roslyn asked.

A slight shame stirred thinking of the growing collection of empty bottles in her room. She sent a small prayer to the gods that this concoction might help.

Esmii looked at Roslyn, she noticed that her friend seemed worried and decided to ask her. ”Are you ok ? I really hope this helps us sleep better. Are you worried as well?” Then she started to measure out all of the ingredients they needed and placed everything into a bowl. ”The ingredients are all measured and put in bowls. What’s next?” She handed the mixture to Roslyn.

”I’m just recalling the empty bottles collecting in my dorm room. It’s a bit crowded from the amount I drink lately.” Roslyn confessed, her arm lifted up and rested on her chest.

Esmii then looked back at the book, when she realized that the book stated it needed to be stored in a clay jar with a wax lid for a year and Esmii’s face dropped. ”Cud. Spax. We have a problem, the mixture I just prepared needs to be stored in the clay jar with the wax lid for a whole year. What should we do now?”

Roslyn frowned and moved closer. ”Is that the only one? May I take a look? I might be able to find something else.”

Her eyes glanced at Esmii for her reply.

”Yes there is another, it’s the next recipe in the book, it's similar to the one we did but I think there are a few different ingredients.” Esmii grabbed the book and turned two pages and found the second recipe, and placed the book back on the table between them.

”It looks like it's made from similar ingredients. The other mixture we made, I will put it in my potions cupboard for it to foment, for a year.” Esmii took the other mixture and placed it safely in her potion cupboard.

”That’s good. We’re making this one today then?” She wanted to be sure.

Esmii smiled and said ”Yes definitely, I will get the ingredients again, and the bowls etc.” Esmii quickly grabbed the ingredients, another bowl and another clay jar with a wax lid. As soon as she had everything she placed everything on the table and started to measure and place the ingredients in the bowl.

Roslyn watched idly, her arms leaned on the table's surface. She tilted her head while Esmii began to crush the herbs together. An invasive yawn edged into her lips. Her hand jerked up, suppressing the sound, as she blinked away the exhaustion. She had finally gotten to a point where she passed out after three days of poor sleep.

"So, how bad have the nightmares been for you?" Roslyn asked, sensing something off. Part of her hoped she had looked too deeply into things.

Esmii glanced back at her friend, when she heard her question she started to tremble, but she paused thought for a while, tried to calm herself down, but it didn’t work so she answered her friend truthly, while trying to hold back tiers and trying to stop herself from trembling.

”When the nightmare starts I see when Sven was held with Kinetic magic, and when he fell to the ground and how I felt, and the next thing I know I fall to the ground. But then suddenly everything goes dark, then when the darkness fades I suddenly see Dmitry and the horrible things he did, and suddenly he says what my mana type is and I have to go through the two times he tried to bite me to get my rare mana type, then I relive when he tried to kill me twice, when he couldn’t bite me.”

Saying this to Roslyn who was there with her, made her feel a bit better, but she couldn’t hold back her tears any longer, and she fell to the floor. ”I’m too scared to fall asleep anymore, I'm also scared to tell Sven what’s wrong and what’s happened, in case he feels bad about what happened, I know it’s silly but I can’t help it. I'm also terrified to meet another Sanguinaire, I feel scared every time I’m out at night, evenmore when I'm on my own.”

Roslyn remained quiet. Her eyes watched the deterioration of Esmii's calm into irritation. It flared up her own issues before she forced it back down. This wasn’t the time for it.

When Esmii crumbled to the floor, Roslyn stepped forward. Her arms raised to soften the fall as they both sat down. Impulsively, the Hendlish girl hugged the Yasoi girl tightly. She realized how easily she shoved her own issues aside to care for others.

“Shh, first breathe. Focus on your inhales and exhales. More air might help steady your nerves."

From the corner of her vision, Roslyn noticed Newt and Sage stir at the shift of emotions. The grape dragon had started to wrap about the Yasoi girl's neck, pressing his body to comfort her. Meanwhile, Sage had popped up her little head with twitching whiskers.

Once Esmii showed signs of calming, Roslyn spoke again.

“I don't think you need to worry about Sanguinaires in the school." Her thoughts went to Vel, knowing he wouldn't attack her friend. At least, she hoped he wouldn't.

“Still, it's best if you don't go outside during the hours of Dami and Ipte. Especially alone. There's some questionable characters among the students." She squeezed Esmii a bit more, mindful of Newt's position.

“As for Sven, I think he already feels bad for leaving you alone. I doubt what happened before we left helped much. It’s better to talk with him rather than bottle these emotions up." Roslyn could tell that Sven and Esmii love each other. They were the most affectionate couple she had ever seen.

Esmii hugged her friend back, she slowly started to feel better and a little more calm now. ”I’m sorry for losing it there, but you are right?” Esmii sighed, then she dried her eyes and comforted Sage and Newt, making sure they know she is ok now.

“It’s okay to feel overwhelmed with emotions. Vorossiya was confusing and difficult, but we survived it. It will take time to feel okay again.” Roslyn spoke softly, ignoring the question.

Then with a look of determination she said. ”I am not going to waste any more time, I’m going to talk to Sven about everything that happened, and how I’m feeling, I know that he will be sad when he finds out I hid this from him, but it’s better to talk about this, than leave it bottled up, any longer.” Esmii then looked at her friend with a huge smile and hugged her again.

“I’m glad I could help.”

”I actually feel a bit better, like a bit of weight has been lifted a little.” Esmii then stood up with Roslyn and walked towards the small couch. They then both take a seat. ”Know that I have talked about how my nightmares have kept me up. Would you like to talk about your’s? And it’s fine if you don’t but don’t forget I’m always here if you need me.”

Roslyn paused for a moment. Her eyes shifted to the side, considering Esmii's question. She forced a small smile on her face as she spoke.

“I'm fine."

The hollow words escaped her lips before she could stop them. A guilt washed over her small lie. No, she knew differently. She was far from alright, but compassion made her a hypocrite.

Esmii looked at her friend, she knew that Roslyn wasn’t fine, however she’s not going to force her to tell her everything right this second.

Realizing how she sounded, Roslyn added.

“I mean, as fine as you can be. I found some ways to cope with things. Beer can numb things and helps with sleep... most of the time. That’s why I was hoping for something stronger."

Esmii after hearing what her friend said, stretched her arms out and hugged her. ”I know that something is bothering you, but I’m not going to force you to tell me. I just want you to know that I am here whenever you need me, so when you do want to talk I will listen.” Newt and Sage also nuzzled into Roslyn.

Roslyn accepted the touch.

“I think you have enough to deal with. You don't need my issues on top of yours." Roslyn mused lightly.

“Also, I'm sure it'll go away at some point. Just need to be patient." She was hopeful, but didn't believe her own words.

Esmii then said ”Should we finish brewing the tea, and we can make enough for two jars so we can each have some for the week, also the recipe says you can drink it warm or cold so that's helpful.” Esmii then stood up and slowly made her way back to the table, thinking about her friend, and hoping that she will talk to her when she is ready.

Roslyn stayed sitting for a bit long, watching friend rise to check on the herbal tea.

“I tend to drink my beer warm, so I think I prefer cold for a change.”

Esmii then continued working on the herbal tea again, making sure that they have everything needed for the tea. She measured out the last of the ingredients that were needed and added them to the bowl. ”This should be enough ingredients for two people.” She stated confidently.

“Thank you,” Roslyn took the offered drink and drew the heat from the liquid, its contents cooling to a manageable temperature.

She enjoyed the herbal brew. It wasn’t long before sleep had started to claim the young Hendlish girl, her eyelids heavy and drooping down. Roslyn decided it was best to leave before she fell asleep. Last thing she wanted was more rumors spreading. Especially for her friend.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Esmii. Stay safe and remember what we talked about.” The girl used the window as she slipped her legs over the still, exiting out.

Somehow, she managed to avoid falling on her face while she scaled back down the Evertree and moved back to her dorm.
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Ti Bruja

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Event: The Owlglass Order | Location: Ersand'Enise



Far from the watchful eyes of Ashon, Ayla, Kaureerah, Marci, and Zazzy, who were busy with upcoming trials and the impending melon derby, a clandestine gathering took place. Beneath the imposing shadow of the Glass Owl Statue, our heroes, Nyan-Acan the Nashibansek Coon and Nibbler, the Djamantese Giant Dormouse, met. They were known to a select few as The Owl Glass Order, and they convened with a singular purpose: to put a stop to Hot Salsa once and for all.

Nyan-Acan, his fiery fur glinting in the soft moonlight that streamed through the window, gracefully leaped onto the mantelpiece where the owl was situated, a place of venerable significance within their covert society. The glass owl's eyes seemed to bestow their silent blessing upon the duo.

Nyan-Acan, tipping his hat as he checked their surroundings, his deep purr barely above a whisper as he spoke, "Amigo, the time has come for us to embark on the pursuit of the most coveted treasure of our enemy - the legendary golden Virangish pepper. We must navigate this treacherous course with caution and cunning."

Emerging from the dark corner of the drawing room they had convened in was Nibbler, the legendary defender of humans and Sanguinaires alike. His small, beady black eyes leered at the large feline’s figure, with a hint of apprehension in his furred body language. Ever vigilant, his head shifted side to side to assess whether they were truly safe, or a wolf walked among them. “Pepper? What pepper?!” the nervous bugger became increasingly suspicious. “All the peppers have been taken. Only the big Belcher knows the location of the last one …” the back paw rose up to scratch his ear in rapid little laps. “You better have a plan, ‘Sploder!”

Nyan-Acan, with a sly glint in his eye, checked the doorway once again. "Ah, my dear amigo," he purred, "We have a scheme so cunning, you can stick a brush on it and call it el zorro. We shall liberate the blankie from Nehki, that mischievous monkey bird, as she sleeps. With it, we shall frame Big Belcher, and amidst all the chaos and confusion, we shall abscond with the closely guarded secret of the Virangish pepper's whereabouts!" With a flourish of his tail, he underlined the scheme. "Hot Salsa shall never see it coming."

Nibbler squeaked. “That would not be very nice to Nehki. Oh no, it wouldn’t.” he shook his head violently at the notion. “But it is a sacrifice for the greater good. My calculations have determined to be the safest approach, yes.” then it was nods. “But the blanket is at the very peak of this fortress! We will need my nibbleness to open the door, as well as my genius. Oh yes.” he sniffed about and slowly approached the cat. “Once I unlock the trap door, you will have to use your soft paws to snatch it at record speeds. My calculations suggest that you can do it under 3 purr vibrations. Yes yes.” nod nod.

Nyan-Acan hesitated for a moment. "Amigo, to do it under three purr vibrations? That would put one of my nine lives at stake," he said, shaking as a chill went through his fur. "We must be as swift as a gust of wind. Here's the plan: we shall execute the ol' switch-a-roo, replacing the blanket with one of the monkey's undergarments, for they shall indeed smell the same." He waved a paw in front of his nose. "Then, without a moment's hesitation, we must swiftly depart toward Big Belcher. Once she awakens, she shall summon her feathered fiends to her side, and by then, we shall be far, far away. A dance with danger, but one that suits our cunning perfectly!" He pawed at his cape as he posed with it.

Nibbler grinned internally. “Excellent plan. We must act swiftly while the night is still young and the humans are still out.” and just as he spoke, he heard a couple walking in. He and Nyan-Acan hid under a table, where a couple of women made their way to the first food in giggles. Then, Nibbler took his chance and dashed out an opened window and climbed to the attic’s smaller, singular window. With a little bit of magic, he could nimbly sneak in and open the latch for Nyan-Acan to slip in. “Shhh,” whispered the rodent. “the avian is fast asleep, but always alert! I will grab the undergarments, you slip the blanket off, then we exchange!”

The plan was proceeding without a hitch, and not even the giggling girls would interfere; in fact, they provided the perfect distraction. Allowing Nyan-Acan to scamper up the stairs towards the attic from the inside. The Monkey never kept the ladders down, for he had no reason, but Nyan-Acan was a cat, and so he leaped to latch onto them, pulling himself into the now-open hatch in the attic.

The room was cool as the Avian rested, lying there vulnerable and asleep, clutching the blanki. Stealthy like a cat, the feline nimbly traversed the wooden planks, using his paws to sense any squeaky boards and gracefully avoided them.

As he finally reached Nehki, he tipped his hat toward Nibbler, as he used his soft paws to swipe the blankie away quickly. Yet, it did not budge! The monkey bird had its grip firm, refusing to release its treasure. Nibbler was approaching with the smelly garments, as he called out in a hushed tone and whispered, "The Blanki! It won't move. She clings to it tighter than a mouse to cheese!"

Nibbler, on his side, was merely browsing through the smelly clothing left by Ashon. Which was the best to substitute a blanket was a challenge, as all were either very big, or too small. “Ah-ha!” the dormouse dug into the pile like a mole in dirt, pulling out Penny’s old skirt from there. It was perfect! Dragging it out with his mouth, he was about ready to celebrate when …

“A mouse, you say?” a Cheshire cat smile grew within, even if he couldn’t actually smile. “It sounds like you require my expertise, ‘Sploder. Move aside!” of course, these were all subtle squeaks. The rodent scurried over to the sleeping Monkeybird and worked his magic: he slid the skirt between one of the wings and the blanket, until it started taking quite a bit of space, and eventually Nehki would clench the thicker of the two - being the skirt in this case.

“Now.” whispered Nibbler to Nyan-acan. Soon, Nehki was going to wake up from the commotion and improvised switcheroos. They had to be swift!

Nyan-Acan gave a determined tug on the blankie, wresting it free from the Monkeybird's grasp! The once pristine fabric now stained a permanent sooty hue from its escapades avoiding the clothes' washer, which caused the cat to wrinkle his nose. "Let's make haste with this wretched item before she awakens!"

With the prized blankie clutched in his teeth, Nyan-Acan darted for the window. He could hear the Monkeybird's squawking growing louder as she awoke to the trickery, "Squuuuaaaa! Ma Blankie!". As he reached the windowsill, he noticed a nearby table and knocked over a vase filled with marbles. The marbles clattered and rolled across the floor, further diverting the Monkeybird's attention toward the door hatch.

As they leaped out of the window, the moonlight guided their way. Nyan-Acan spotted a clothesline, its ends hanging perilously close to a roof's edge. With feline grace, he used the blankie to lasso one of the line's sagging ends. In a daring move, he swung, gracefully gliding through the night air. He could feel the wind rustling his fur as he approached the fence.

Finally, Nyan-Acan landed on the fence with all four paws poised for action. He turned to Nibbler, and flashed a sly grin. "Come, my amigo, we have damsels to rescue from the clutches of the Hot Salsa! Adventure awaits!"

Just as they were making their mad dash, with Nibbler taking his own exit, they’d notice Zarina in the kitchen. She was indulging in some drink and did not seem bothered by the Monkeybird cries. Curious! But she then retreated to her room with the other figure.

Nibbler flew out of a window and … Flew some more. He could fly, and when he could he’d stick to rooftops to avoid attention, but there was no need for acrobatics. He definitely didn’t have the style of Nyan-Acan.

Reunited with the cat, the rodent stretched his hind legs and yawned. “We must first infiltrate the draconic stronghold, ‘Sploder. Our greatest struggle yet. I estimate a 21% chance we even survive! Oh wait.” a sudden itch took him over, leading him to nibble his own abdomen before focusing again. “Anyway,” back to panic mode. “ahhhh weren’t gonna die if we do this! Darn darn darn!!!” he paced in circles, super nervous.

Nyan-Acan flashed a reassuring feline grin at his companion. "Don't fret, my furry amigo. If you enter through the rafters, they won't be able to climb up there. We shall strike a deal with the mighty Big Belcher, then employ the blankie to veil our escape." With a graceful leap, they followed the fence toward the formidable dragon's lair, already hearing the restless Froabas as they drew near.

"Mind you, Roedor, steer clear of the winged ones. They have an appetite for anything furry, and we're not on their menu tonight. Swiftness is our greatest ally." The cunning cat moved with feline agility along the sheds, deftly avoiding any holes as the dragons below made desperate attempts to snatch an easy meal. Nyan-Acan skilfully ducked and weaved, hopping from one support beam to another, narrowly evading plumes of fire that ignited around him. In a death-defying antic, he leaped across to the Skuggvar pen, where his cloak caught the tail end of an almost-fiery demise. He used his paws to pat out the flames, revealing a charred yet triumphant smile.

"That was a close shave, my friend. I could feel the leche curdle within me." This pen at the top was somewhat less perilous, but the residence of Big Belcher was not to be underestimated. With a fearless glint in his eye, Nyan-Acan forged ahead, ready to face whatever challenges awaited within the draconic lair.

Nibbler was terrified! Even though he had the chemical magic to repulse the beasts, his instinct told him to stay back. “You must go forward on your own, ‘Sploder! I will stand guard!” the rodent stayed at the entrance of the specialised barn, in a pile of hay, and prayed in his own mouse way.

Nyan-Acan found a particularly large pen, and inside snored a large beast. A Skuggvar, not even fully grown, had caught his scent when he drew near. With a loud, wet yawn, the mighty animal shifted to look his way, but did not stand. It gurgled and sniffed, before addressing the visitor. “Well, well, well, if it isn't the rather sizable and impressively polished feline. What, I must inquire, is the reason for your presence in my humble abode, my diminutive acquaintance?”

Nyan-Acan, with a graceful cat-like saunter, prowled along the pen's edge. "You see, my formidable friend, we are in dire need of something. A treasure, if you will, that only you possess: the secret lair of the fiery Hot Salsa. It is for the safety of our fair damsels that we must return victorious." He gracefully slipped through the pen's doorway, casting an appraising gaze upon the colossal beast. "They've enlisted the one they call Abdel, not the one ending in Aziz, but the one you fondly refer to as... Master."

The gurgles got louder and culminated into a single, loud burp. Qadira raised her front legs to raise her figure a tad, but her hind ones remained lazy. “You refer to my Master, do you? It is essential to clarify that he is merely a compatriot, even though he happens to be the benevolent provider of sustenance. My commitment to principles of honour and loyalty remains unwavering, and thus, I shall steadfastly guard the veil of secrecy that shrouds his affairs.” she leaned closer to the cat and blew hot steam into his furred face. “I cannot oblige your request without proper recompense, dear cat. You see, my assistance comes at a cost.”

"A cost, you say?" Nyan-Acan's eyes gleamed with curiosity. "Why, reveal the price, my noble amiga, so we may strike a deal and celebrate with a round of leche to honour our newfound alliance." As the dragon released a rather unpleasant breath in his direction, the cat couldn't help but cough and, in a display of feline elegance, produce a well-timed hairball. "My apologies for such untimely manners. We shall handle this minor matter."

Using the distraction caused by the dragon's belch and his own coughing fit, Nyan-Acan seized the opportunity to deftly plant the precious blankie within the Skuggvar's den.

"It was indeed a slip of the tongue," Nyan-Acan continued with charming humility, addressing the majestic queen of her domain. "I meant no disrespect. I see you as a sovereign, not a servant. How, then, may one please an almighty queen like yourself? We aim to strike a bargain to safeguard your domain from the encroachment of the fiery Hot Salsa." The feline's words were filled with deference and charm.

The beast regarded Nyan-Acan with growing scepticism. Its small, beady eye narrowed as it turned its head to more properly observe the feline with one of them. “You articulate your thoughts as though you doubt the fiery intensity of my breath, insinuating that it might not be up to the challenge of handling the salsa. I must assert that I find this proposition of limited benefit to me, and as a result, the cost you must pay for my assistance will be quite substantial.” the beast sniffed the air again. “These olfactory senses of mine detect a rather unpleasant and noxious odour wafting through the air. Pray, may I inquire as to the source and nature of this disconcerting scent?”

It shook its head and focused on the deal itself. “I desire one of each: A tooth of the legendary sky dragon of the North. A scale of the tyrannical dragon of the south. A drop of blood of the ruler of the seas. The saliva of the king of mud and swamps. And the claw of the emperor of sands!”

The Monkeybirds descended upon the pen with raucous squalls. "BLANKIE! You've got Blankie!" they cried out in a cacophony of avian voices. Nekh-butt perched atop the Skuggvar pen, launching a relentless pecking barrage. The rest of the birds joined in, a chorus of support for their sibling as they relentlessly harried the dragon within. "Give, give! Give back my blankie!"

Nyan-Acan's whiskers twitched with a devious feline smirk. "Well, it seems you've added another treasure to your collection, my Reina. However, if you'd be so kind as to share the information I seek, I can certainly assist you in handling this matter." With an elegant slink, he gracefully made his exit, leaving Qadira at the mercy of the squawking Monkeybirds. "STOLE Blankie!" they chimed, as the audacious cat moved to spectate till the dragon relented.

Qadira roared in annoyance. Its tail flailed about and was about ready to unleash vicious quills to snuff out the problem. However, a low growl from another pen seemed to dissuade her. That, and an outside force - Nibbler - was actively hampering her abilities! Pushed into a corner, and not wanting any chastising, she relented. “Very well, I shall acquiesce to your request. Should you successfully eradicate this troublesome issue, I shall, in turn, be inclined to bestow upon you the very desires you seek, my dear interlocutor!”

Nyan-Acan sported a smug expression as Qadira finally relented, her draconic gaze meeting his. "Give us the location, and this conundrum shall be resolved with the swiftness of a cat's pounce." He gracefully moved to unveil the cherished blankie, revealing it to the curious Monkeybirds who observed from above.

"Blankie! Oh, there it is! Give me," Nehki cried out in a delightful state of distress. The anticipation in the air was palpable as Nyan-Acan held the coveted treasure within his grasp.

Qadira cursed the restraints that kept her from breaking the pen, and consequently from attacking the other animals. Glaring at the cat, it conceded with a soft blink of its eyes. “It is agreeable, I consent to your request. The incendiary fruit you seek is presently located within the shared residence for our peers, where a festive gathering is currently in progress. I must forewarn you that its imminent consumption is all but assured.” it huffed out of its powerful nostrils.

Nyan-Acan bowed with all the panache of a toreador, gracefully taking the cherished blanket into his possession. He swiftly opened the hatch, inviting the monkeybird to swoop in towards the inviting blankie, all while providing a convenient escape from the looming dragon. The resulting commotion of squawking and fluttering feathers, combined with the occasional belch from Big Belcher, artfully masked his exit.

As Nyan-Acan elegantly made his way back to his rodent companion, he couldn't help but comment, "She may have been a stern negotiator, but my feline charm won the day. We now possess the coveted location! And a dire warning. They're preparing to intrude into a grand festivity, and so our little mission is going to add a little sour cream to their hot salsa." His words were punctuated with a mischievous glint in his eye.

Nibbler was taking a nap! Only with the appearance of the cat did he snap back into reality. “Wha-what?! Yes, all is safe! Oh,” he blinked. “Hey boss.” he even raised his paw in a very humanlike salute. “Sour cream …” the critter scratched his ear, pensive. “What’s that?”

Although the duo could discuss all they wanted, back in Abdel residence with a few other Tethered and commonfolk, was a salsa in mid-preparation. The ingredients had been prepared, and the Virangish pepper was nearing its zenith as the fiery piece that would ruin the otherwise mildly spicy delight of the coming evenings. Would our heroes make it in time?

The duo, bound for Abdel's place, had a mission of great import. Young Abdel had succumbed to the allure of the forbidden spice, lured by the promises of Hot Salsa, and aimed to poison their beloved damsels with this perilous concoction. They dashed through the cobbled streets of Ersand'Enise, their every step filled with a daring sense of purpose. As they raced through the bustling student district, they hopped onto carriages, nimbly crossed rooftops, and engaged in feats of unparalleled agility as they ventured through the treacherous workman quarter.

It was on this intrepid journey that they encountered a distraction that threatened to derail their mission. Approaching the student dorms, Nyan-Acan's heart seemed to leap from his chest as he beheld a spectacular sight. There, on a moonlit balcony, sat the stunning Goma cat, her speckled fur shimmering like a starlit night. "Meeeeeeowzer!" Nyan-Acan couldn't help himself. He began to groom himself with a flourish, whistling charmingly toward the exquisite beauty. At this moment, the feline adventurer's attention momentarily strayed, captivated by the allure of the other cat.

If Nyan-Acan’s will could be truly tested by this wicked obstacle, Nibbler had no chance. He, too, noticed a thing of beauty: A petite dormouse he had reluctantly courted out of sheer nervousness. Out of instinct, he puffed out his chest and tapped his tail onto the ground below him to capture her attention. His striped coat was thick and made him look even bigger than he already was. “Oh gosh, oh gosh, oh gosh!” he panicked, although his body acted naturally. “Do I look to wimpy?! On no, I definitely look too wimpy … I estimate a 3% chance of getting any positive attention!”

Nyan-Acan couldn't help but be amused by the flustered state of his rodent friend as he gazed in the direction of the enchanting dormouse. "Ah, it seems you've found a lady friend who has caught your eye as well!" His whiskers twitched with amusement as he gave his companion an encouraging pat on the back. "Remember, my dear friend, confidence is the key when wooing the fairer sex. Be as cool as a cat, and you'll surely capture her heart. But fret not, we have the matter of this confounded Pepper to attend to first."

With a mischievous glint in his eye, Nyan-Acan leaned in close, placing his paw by his mouth to whisper conspiratorially, "And once we've dealt with the Pepper, you can impress her by showing her how you can take on a cat. That pretty kitty next to her will surely see my selfless act as a demonstration of my good character. Purrfect, wouldn't you say?" The feline adventurer's playful advice was tinged with a sense of adventure and camaraderie as they continued their quest.

Reinvigorated by the words of Nyan-Acan, Nibbler led the endeavour to securing the pepper, with the puss-in-boots in tow. Abdel’s home was the common’s dorm, essentially, with a communal kitchen that held a small cauldron filled with the cooking salsa. The odour was alluring to both carnivores and herbivores alike, with the strong scent of tomatoes mixed with foreign spices from around the Twin Continents. What was missing was the most dreadful of all, and their goal.

They snuck in by the window, while most of the youths were enjoying music played by their fellow bardic commoners, a couple were preparing food that was to come with the hot salsa. And, right by the frequently used chopping board was an untouched Virangish Pepper on a clean plate, almost like a pedestal with how distinct it was from the rest of the foods, and ready to spoil the wondrous sauce it was so close too. “This is our chance.” whispered Nibbler from the vantage point of one of the tallest shelves in the kitchen. “Make a distraction to get them out, and we’ll swipe the pepper!”

Nyan-Acan darted under the table, his feline instincts on high alert. The cauldron of Hot Salsa bubbled away, its fiery contents threatening to wreak havoc on the taste buds of any unfortunate soul who dared consume it. As the time drew near for the final, and decidedly indigestible, ingredient to be added, Nyan-Acan braced himself.

With Nibbler's call for a distraction ringing in his ears, Nyan-Acan surveyed the scene, his keen eyes spotting a dangling tablecloth. A mischievous grin crossed his whiskered face as he made his move. With a swift tug, he sent the tableware and cauldron crashing to the floor, creating a chaotic mess.

Amidst the culinary chaos, Nyan-Acan's eyes widened as he beheld a surprise. His feline grace and curiosity drove him to examine the disorder he had caused. Suddenly, he recoiled in shock. There, amidst the spilled concoction, lay a large green object with dark stripes. It slithered ominously across the floor, its gaping mouth reminiscent of a royal sand wyrm, and it was none other than Pepino-Dessierto himself.

"Holy Moly, it is Pepino-Dessierto!" Nyan-Acan exclaimed in sheer surprise.

The monster slithered at staggering speeds toward Nyan-acan, prompting the large cat to bounce in terror and retreat, although not without his paws missing out on some friction, making for quite the comedic getaway. His speed and ‘agility’ managed to get him away from the clutches of the beast while Nibbler launched his counter attack by hopping off his vantage point and staring down the creature for a powerful internal chemical attack.

Nothing happened. It was completely unaffected, much to the rodent’s dismay! And that wasn’t all, the ruckus the two had made caused multiple utensils to fall from the counters and tables, forcing the two to scramble. What a mess! Plates were broken and rubbish spread all over the floor. But the green creature wasn’t done.

The red coon tried to put an end to this with more explosive magic: A VOID-made kinetic explosion, that … Made the thing roll away, mostly unscathed, and even more things were falling! And just as it bonked against the nearby shelf, the edifice began to fall upon the two heroes. Quickly, they dodged! Both with their lightning reflexes and wit, they elegantly jumped on opposite sides, and emerged with new vigour. The tables were about to turn! Literally.

The final assault was nigh - Both Nyan-Acan and Nibbler readied themselves. The latter with pieces of plate and forks levitating in the air with his mind until he hurled them all to pin the calamity. Meanwhile, the cat seized a knife, touched it with the VOID and went for the final blow now that their enemy was rendered immobile. With a quick succession of slashes, the beast remained in one piece …

For all but two seconds. It crumbled into many little slices.

The Cucumber had been slain.

With a triumphant gesture, Pepino-Dessierto met his end! The dynamic duo caused a raucous commotion, sending pots and pans flying in every direction, while the air was filled with the tinkling of shattered plates and the crashing of glass. The cacophony of their deeds reverberated through the house, and the ominous thudding of footsteps drew closer as the household's occupants rushed to the scene of the culinary crime.

"Nyibbleeer, my friend, we must be swift!" Nyan-Acan declared with a twinkle in his eye. With feline agility, he sprang onto the table, snatching the Pepper in his mouth, his lips tingling with the fiery heat of the spice. This was indeed the genuine article. With a mighty leap, he vaulted toward the sink, plunging his face into the water to quell the burning sensation. With a slick move, he stashed the precious Pepper under his hat and bounded toward the open window, ready to make his grand escape.

As he passed the wide-eyed and red-faced Abdel, who had just swung the door open in shock, Nyan-Acan couldn't resist a parting quip. "This is my cue to exit, amigo." With the Pepper safely hidden, the daring cat made his exit in a burst of feline grace and adventure, leaving behind a bemused and befuddled Abdel in his wake with Nibbler shortly behind.

Or that’s what he thought! Nibbler, once the pepper secured, had actually flown out without a shred of desire for style. A little, lingering squeak was all that the cat would hear until they met again at their HQ, pepper secured and humans in shambles after a Monkeybird meltdown and a kitchen in chaos. But, all was right in paradise. All that remained was …

“So, what do we do with it?” inquired the ceaselessly nervous Nibbler, hesitating to even approach this fire made material. “I say we burn it. Humans will let their greed to take precedence over reason, and they’ll claim it once more!”

The Pepper swirled and danced within Nyan-Acan's agile paws as he pondered the most suitable course of action. Nibbler's words rang true; the humans would undoubtedly go to great lengths to ensure the vile ingredient's return, even resorting to sneaking it into their sweet desserts if they could. With a sly grin, he concluded, "Let them never say that Nyan-Acan fails to repay his debts. We shall return to the Big Belcher, and she will breathe fire tonight!" Their journey back would take them full circle, returning them to where it all began.

As they approached the dragon pens, an air of palpable tension hung heavy. There was unmistakable anger and unease, the residue of the Monkeybirds' recent chaos. The Big Belcher grumbled with annoyance, her eyes smouldering with thoughts of revenge. Nyan-Acan, perched on a nearby roof, looked down at her, his tongue flicking out to lazily groom his paw.

"Missed me, my beautiful Reina?" he purred, casting a charming gaze down toward the formidable dragon. His demeanour was filled with confidence and a playful sense of camaraderie, as he found himself once again in the presence of the dragon queen.

Qadira regarded the feline with disdain. All she wanted to was eat him at this point. And now he came to flaunt his winning. “"It appears that you hold your own life in rather low regard, dear feline companion. I must emphatically express that, should your interruptions persist, I shall not hesitate to do more than just sample that pepper; a mere bite may not suffice to quell my vexation.”

He tsked softly as he gazed upon the dragon. "My Reina, you underestimate me so. I arrive bearing a symbol of peace." With a flourish, he dangled the Legendary Golden Pepper before her, its glimmering hue befitting a sovereign's treasure. "A delicacy fit for royalty." With precise aim, he propelled the prized item into the Big Belcher's open maw. "In exchange for a humble act of clemency, of course." His tone was gracious, embodying a sense of charm and diplomacy as he sought to mend their relationship with this daring gesture.

The Skuggvar gobbled up the small pepper. What a pitiful existence to consider this a danger to the culinary arts! Qadira was about to scoff until- it coughed, and cough some more. The gurgling was never this intense! And then came the flames! The mucus that her species turned to flames was no longer viscus, but a pure, fiery haze of intense heat. Luckily, the pen was made fireproof, but the whole barn suddenly got a bit too active to be considered safe. The howls of the Great Belcher were going to roar for the entirety of the night, all because of one mighty Virangish Pepper.

Tomorrow will now come, thanks to the Maginimals!


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