Location: The Nameless Village
Time of Day: Late Morning (10:00 AM~)
People of Interest: @Zeroth Yasunami Akitsugu, @Lupusintus Rinn Arniman, @ERode MacKinnon, @Dragonydas Myrravel Velasien, @CitrusArms Niara Rootwick, @Remram Brom Stronghammer, @BunniesOfDoom Adrila Jaaxa, @Rune_Alchemist Yingmei Okudaira

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The sun shines brightly in a mostly clear sky, marred only by a few wispy clouds that lazily sail across the endless blue. It is spring and the snow and cold of winter has thawed away, giving rise to the return of colors and fragrances. The birds are chirping happily and busying themselves with gathering materials to nuild their new nests or thatch-up their old ones. Animals, both small and large, have awakened from their hibernation or otherwise sleepy days of conserving strength, and are now once again ready to rise and face the coming year.

Our eyes, however, are turned to the Farland Frontier, a wild and untamed stretch of very varied wilderness and terrain, located in the western parts of the world. Here, nestled in between eight different regions of quite different climates and geography, is a small vale of temperate green grasslands. Bushes and thin trees dot the landscape here, with the occasional larger rock or stone popping out of the grassy ground. The area's mostly flat, with a few very low hills that're more like knells or squished-down mounds. But apart from the wildflowers and other vegetation, there really isn't much here...

... Except for at the very heart of it all.

Here, in the very center of the little vale, lies an old, long-forgotten town. Or... Well, village might be more appropriate... Okay, okay, it's not even quite that... More like a hamlet. Judging by the looks of things, there hasn't been any residents here for quite a while. The few buildings still standing have either suffered collapsed walls, caved in roofs and rotting or otherwise weatherworn frameworks. The very few buildings made out of simple stone bricks have faired better than the wooden structures, of course, but even they have begun to be reclaimed by time and nature. The roads, once little more than well-trodden dirt paths, have started to become overgrown and retaken by ever-encroaching neighbouring grass, which has season by season, year by year, reclaimed bit by bit.

Honestly, the only things that even look as if it would be remotely hospitable at this point are the two central-most buildings of the place. One, a large long-house-like building, with tiled roofs that've long-since lost their color. Although the window-shutters are about to fall off their rusted hinges and the front door won't close shut - since it's become off-balance and won't fit into the doorway anymore, the rest of the structure is in a... Serviceable... state, if nothing else. Sadly, the inside is a bit more depressing, with the floorboards having become warped or partially rotted through, and the only real futniture left from the years of yore are a bunch of small, uncomfortable-looking cots. There is a fire pit, but no pot or spit to go over it, and there are no shelves or cupboards - none intact anyway - with any sort of pottery or other utensils.

The second building, one made from bricks rather than wood, is on the opposite side of the road from the aforementioned longhouse. This one has a thatch roof with only a few holes in it, though the front door is nowhere to be found, and neither does it have window-shutters. To get inside, one must ascend a very short set of steps, which leads into the main door and a small antechamber. Sadly, like it's sibling across the street, it too has warped or crumbling floors and is lacking in any furniture. Given that the rooms are fairly large inside this structure though, perhaps someone of importance or above-average-levels-of-wealth lived here once? It's quite hard to say, really.

Apart from these two buildings that still stand with all four walls still intact, there're two other important sights at the heart of the hamlet. The first being an old well, complete with a little roof above it. However, the crank looks about ready to fall off, the pully is wobbly and in dire need of replacement, and the rope is frayed to the point of being about to snap or unravel at any moment. The bucket that the rope is attached is in no better condition, leaking from several cracks or small holes in bottom... But at least you could get some water up before it all trickles out and back down into the well. And hey, the well still has water in it!

the other, last bit of noticealbe interest, is the weird statue at the dead-center of the settlement. Seated on a small stone dais, is a solid stone statue of a four-pointed star, kinda like a shuriken, but with no hole in the middle. This old statue seems to have been here for a while, and has been weathered by the elements and time, yet somehow still stands strong, with no discernable cracks or chipping in the stone. There's no plaque or inscriptions though, nothing to tell or inform what this thing actually is supposed to be or represent... Perhaps it's just apiece of artwork that the former residents made and put up? Or perhaps it's holds some kind of cultural or religious significance to someone? Hard to say, and even harder to figure out, given that none of the old residents remain.

But, then you ask, what is so important about this run-down, crumbling, long-forgotten little place? Well, as it so happens, this very morning, a few fresh faces crossed from all of the other areas surrounding the vale, and made their way to it. Some were drawn by a voice they clai,m, while others had a dream, a few even swore they were just being pulled towards this location. It doesn't matter their reasons really, what does matter is that they're all here now... It is a small group, barely more than a dozen souls from all parts of the world and all walks of life...

And yet, they've all gathered here, and now gaze at this rural, rustic ruin in the middle of nowhere... This is where their, and our, story begins. A new season, a new day... What will grow from this young, fledgeling seed?



"This the place, Daryl?"
"Eyup, no doubt about it, honey."
"But it looks so... Run-down..."
"Hah! That's 'cuz it is run-down!"
"And... You're sure you wanna settle down here...?"
"That I am. I know, I know. Sounds crazy. But... I just felt something calling us here t-"
"Calling you here, bub. I don't recall getting or feeling any urge to pack up all our belongings, getting on this creaky old carriage and travelling all the way from Ristante to come out here, to the middle of nowhere, for some... Ruins."
"Aww, c'mon Sheryl! It's fine! All this place needs is a little fixing up and it'll be good as new, right as rain! You'll see."
"If by little you mean hours of intense, back-breaking labor and hardship, then I concur, dear husband."

A tall, broad-shouldered man with a simple plain tunic and pants, wearing a dark apron, was talking in a lively fashion with a woman who was about a head-and-a-half shorter than him, also dressed in simple attire with an apron. From the one of their conversation, it was fair to say they were a married couple, and they were standing next to an old-looking wagon, which had an equally old-looking horse pulling it. The wagon was filled with bags and crates - luggage and personal belongings no doubt. The duo were standing a bit off the road, near to the still-mostly-intact longhouse and seemed to be having a bit of a mrital spat, though there wasn't any anger or heated words, just a wife sighing in exasperation at her seemingly eccentric husband, who in turn was laughing jovially and seemed excited at the prospect or renovating an entire village.



"That's a shame... This one's no good either..."

A short woman, a dwarf, with healthy caramel skin and golden blonde hair, dressed in a long dark coat, and equally dark short-shorts and a bandeau, was busy poking around one of the crunbling buildings. She had a crossbow strapped to her back, along with a quiver, a small sheath with a dagger clung to the belt on her waist. She seemed to have just exited from a nearby house, which one of the walls were about to give out on, as it was more rot than wood at this point.

"Too bad... It was nearest to the plains forest too... Guess I'll have to go look deeper in and see if there's something else still standing." she mused to herself, tapping a dainty finger against her equally daint chin, while slowly and lazily gazing up at the sky, seemingly lost in thought.



"Grampy, I'm hungry."
"Patience, Wilma... We'll eat soon, I promise."
"That's wha' you said an hour ago! Wilma's hungry now!"
"You want to eat while riding the cart? Remember what happened last time?"
"... W-Wilma won't drop her bread this time! Promise!"
"Is that so? I think I remember Wilma saying the same thing the last time too..."
"Grrr... Grampy you meanie!"
"Ha-ha-ha... Don't worry, little one. We're just about there. Then you can have any of the bread you want. And whichever jam you like to go with."
"Waa-h! You mean it~!? Yay! Grampy, I love you~!"

A very young-looking girl was riding in a cart pulled by a donkey, along with a very old-looking man. The smaller person was now busy hugging the larger one, who in turn was just chuckling in amusement at the child's antics. Compared to the first pair, this cart seemed to be in better condition, and the donkey - although an ass - looked to be a far more healthy specimen than the wedded couple's horse. But, in a place with no real roads, things were slow-going. But it seemed the old man wasn't in any rush. By the looks of it, it appeared they too were headed for the center of this old village. Their cart was filled with barrels, crates and even had a small tent-like fixture at the very rear - suggesting they'd been sleeping while on the road in this wagon of theirs.

...

... And then, there were the rest of them... The other eight, who each arrived from their respective direction, for their own reasons...

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To any side of the stony ridge, he could see a great distance. There was, most certainly, a strange power to this land, for in every direction the world changed in a manner more...swift? Smooth? Short? How could one describe it? So many different environments, all competing with one another as if to fit on the same page of the atlas. In other places, one could walk for days among the same trees, or along the same river. Here, it took mere hours. Why, if he were to look to the north this very moment, he could see snowfields just at the edge of his eyes' range; and if he were to look to the west, he would see the dull yellows and rocky ochres of a desert on the horizon.

Part of it, perhaps, was his elevation. He came down soon into the vale, leaving rocky mountains and cavernous ravines behind, following in reverse the path he had begun the previous day. The last village he had come through---the last real village---had told him of an abandoned mine in the region called the Cragstone Valley where he might find some worthwhile ore.

But, he dared not enter the place. He had come far enough to see the landscape with his own eyes, and that had been too difficult in its own right. He needed more preparations, more supplies...and he certainly could not stay in the wilds, not in such unfamiliar and seemingly bewitched environs. No, one night had been enough to tell him all of that. He looked towards the ruins, nestled almost too conveniently at the center of this lush, verdant dip in the landscape betwixt so many strange locales.

The ringing grew louder in his ears. He stopped, and looked all around, but to no avail. So it was this place, after all.

"I thought you said we weren't going to risk sleeping in some bandit's hideaway!" Almost at his left shoulder, a voice spoke up with all the air of an unpleased, spoilt young lady. "Why don't you go back to the other place?!"

"That," he answered, "would take far too long. I am already running too low on rations. At the least, I need water." He adjusted the weight of the pack on his shoulders, and glanced towards the hem of his long red coat. "I also didn't say anything about bandits."

"C'mon! A place that looks like that? Definitely bandits! Or goblins! Or...gh-gh-ghosts..." An odd rattling, not unlike that of teeth, yet with a distinct metallic tone, followed the trailing voice.

"If the mine was abandoned, it is likely the village was as well. If any remain there, surely they aren't enough to threaten us." He patted his own hip reassuringly. "Although, to be honest, I almost hope..."

He stopped, just past the subtle shift in the landscape where wilderness gave way to civilization. Footpaths, fence-lines, roads, and other things had long been encroached by the grasslands and brambles, but there was still a sort of "threshold" between the hamlet and its surroundings. But the village did not seem exactly the same as the last time he had passed it from afar.

"...There actually are people here?" the unseen voice whispered low.

"Indeed..." A small settlement like this, in a low plain like this, did not hide much of itself. Amidst ruined buildings to the west, someone was moving---a child, perhaps? That didn't seem right to his senses, though he couldn't say why. He didn't have a clear view of them at the moment. But further down the thoroughfare, a wagontop stood out against the covering of the old well. And...

There were others. He hadn't laid eyes on them yet either, but somehow, like the ringing in his ears---which had now grown not quieter, but more distant---he just had... a feeling.

What was this place? Why did it call to them so?

"Be careful, Aki-tan." The voice went silent. He hummed in acknowledgement, and folded his arms over his chest. Slowly, his head on a swivel, he began to walk through the village in search of the source of the ringing---for as it had grown distant, it had also grown clear. It was coming from somewhere. He stopped, and turned, and followed where the sound seemed loudest. Yet the moment he stepped in the wrong direction, it would nearly fall silent, and he had to look for it again. It was the ring of steel upon steel. A hammer upon an anvil. Tools against a table. And he intended to find whence the ghostly sound had come...

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The Tanglesteppe winds blew relentlessly, the thick scrubland grass cascading in great waves with every gust and giving the rolling landscape a living appearance dichotomous with the still blue sky overhead. A lone figure trudged ever onward across the hills, his booted feet dragging a toe along the overgrown dirt path with every step as he slowly made his way east. His bright red cloak flapped over his laced blue shirt and every so often one thin hand had to yank the fine wide-brimmed hat down over his flowing chocolate curls as it was buffeted by another burst of wind. The beautiful feather it had once spouted blew away long ago, much to his continued disappointment, and he would be damned if he let the expensive accessory follow suit. It was one of the last few pieces of finery he had left, after all.

"So... hungreeeeeeeeeeey..." Rinn Arniman moaned to no one in particular, being completely alone for another solid straight day. The owner of the last inn some two days previous had given him a rather alarmed look when he expressed his desire to head further east and in hindsight such regard from someone more familiar with the landscape should have given him more pause. What meager provisions he could afford had run out that morning and with virtually nothing to scavenge or forage he now found himself in a position that was becoming more and more familiar every day he lived outside his family's estate.

He was starving.

As Rinn crested a rise and one hand shielded his bright topaz eyes while they squinted at the new horizon. The first thing he noticed was a noticable dip in the landscape as the hills funneled down into a luch green vale but what truly caught his attention was the tiny cluster of specks at the vale's heart that could only be the telltale marks of humanoid settlement. He let out a whooped holler at the sudden rush of joy in his heart though the sound cut off quickly as he puzzled over its origins. Whatever this place was, it was certainly no hub of civilization and up until a moment ago he would have had no idea such a hamlet would exist this far from any known landmark.

And yet... he had known it would be here, hadn't he?

Tightening the straps of his vielle, the bard ever-so-slightly quickened his step with newfound energy. The following hour felt longer than the six he'd spent walking that very morning and by the time the distant buildings began to take focus he was practically vibrating with excitement. On the road ahead he spotted movement and his breath hitched as he recognized a donkey-drawn wagon. He ran then, desperate to make contact with the only other travelers he'd seen in days but even the small distance between them left him pitifully breathless as he drew up beside the wooden vehicle. "H-hey! Ex-... -cuse me! H-hello...! Hi there!" He panted, his breathing hard and fair skin beaded with sweat. Rinn blinked in surprise as he saw the wagon's occupants were no more than an old man and a girl, practically an infant. "Uh... Hail and... well... met." Slowly, his heart began to slow and he leaned backwards, hands on his hips as he took another deep breath. "Good people, where-... What village is this and would you kindly direct me to the closest tavern?"

From atop the sandy dunes of the Scorchrise, heavy boots skid against the decline as a girl half-ran, half-leapt down the final stretch of land separating the dunes from the abandoned hamlet. An avalanche of sand heralded her arrival and an equal amount found its way inside her shoes, but she was all hearty cheer as her laces came undone and she tripped on them, sending her head over heels, rolling all the way down as her belongings were strewn out all around her. The oil lamp bounced a few steps away, the pickaxe buried itself a few inches away from her head, and a broken compass rolled to a stop right in front of the intrepid treasure hunter, its needle tick-ticking away as it slowly spun to a stop.

She pushed her head out of the sand, shaking the particles out of her hair and ears with the affection of a shaggy dog, before her emerald eyes locked onto the compass, upon where the needle pointed.

A toothy smile formed. The needle still pointed towards the village, so it had to be where her next big jackpot would be! Jumping up to her feet, she gathered her scattered belongings, emptied her boots of a bucketful of sand and said good-bye to the dunes.

---

As the marital dispute between Daryl and Sheryl turned into a non-verbal exchange of laughs and sighs, a newcome stepped into the heart of the nameless village. Baby-faced and lightly-dressed, there was no doubt that she had come from the Scorchrise Dunes: her skin was cooked reb as a boiled crab and her lips were dried and cracked, split apart with the blood having congealed into something darker. Her rucksack, which must have once been full, was now wholly empty, swaying with every step she took, and her clothing, while undoubtedly made of durable material for a trek through the sands, was fraying and sported amateurish patches.

And yet, upon reaching the heart of the settlement, this girl was still energetic enough to throwing her hands up into the air and draw in a deep lungful of air.

“Rahahaha! I have ARRIVED!”

Then, it was ten strides towards the old well, a cheerful tune sung out in an off-kilter pitch as she pulled up a leaking bucket of water that she promptly upended over herself. Once. Twice. Thrice! She shook her hair out once more, flecks of water spraying everywhere, then tied it back into a simple ponytail. Finally, it felt like she could breathe in without inhaling dust. And thus, what else was to do except pump a fist in the air and shout, “And now, I have REVIVED!”

Hurt like a mother hen though, now that her lips were bleeding properly and her aches were roused away by the cold water, but what was a girl to do but grin and bear with it? Setting the leaky bucket on the side of the well, she finally turned towards the couple who looked just as new as she was to this empty village and waved at them.

“Heya strangers,” she said, emerald eyes sparkling, “Name’s MacKinnon. You’re settling here too, yeah? Got that kinda feeling, and I always trust those feelings. Anyhow, saw like a whole buncha others from this hill I was standing on, all heading towards this place, so ya wanna be neighbourly and help me patch up this well real quick?”

The girl motioned towards the rotted rope, the hole-y bucket, the wobbly pulley.

“We can host a whole drinking party afterwards!”

And die together, if it turns out that this village was abandoned due to the poisoned well, but MacKinnon was the lucky sort, so what were the chances of that happening?

Practically zero!

Everything is fine. Just fine. Everything. Is. Fine. Nothing is wrong. I'm not lost. I'm just on a special little excursion. It's fine. It is fine. In fact, I'm sure if I take a right, right here, at this tree that I marked ten minutes ago, it will lead me right back to the path and get me back to my group and we can go back to town and I can go back to work and act of this little event never happened. Because it never happened. I didn't get lost. I can't get lost. I'm me! It's impossible for me to get lost!

And yet, no matter how much she tried to talk herself out of it, Adrila was well and truly lost. She had even picked up a sharp stone that she was using to mark the trees as she went by to only find those trees again. And again. And again. At this point, she wasn't sure if she was getting anywhere or if she was somehow trapped in a tiny circle that kept her going around and round and round. That's the only reasonable excuse she could come up with. She had a map and a compass and a plan and a backup plan and a backup for her backup but right when she found herself in unfamiliar forests, it was like everything stopped working or mother nature itself was against her. The compass needle kept spinning wildly, which made no sense- AT ALL! And some really strong wind ripped the map right out of her hands and took it away to then never blow again. Some foul magic had to be at play! That was the only thing Adrila could think of. Someone or something wanted her there in that forest and it was succeeding! She was not getting out of this place any time soon and she was so HUNGRY!

Adrila just conceded herself to roam the forest in a futile attempt to hopefully stumble upon something, anything helpful. She kept the compass out in front because every now and then, in between its bouts of wild spinning, the compass would pause for just a moment and point in one specific direction. She assumed that the magic, for whatever reason, had pauses in its effect and the compass was pointing north in those few moments of clarity. So she followed it, taking a moment to pause if she wasn't sure she was going in the right direction to only continue after being shown the way again. This continued for another twenty to thirty minutes, Adrila growing more and more distraught as time went on. It took everything she had not to pocket the compass and just flail through the forest, screaming at the top of her lungs for someone to come find her but that would be very unladylike and she couldn’t stand to be found like that, a sniveling mess of a woman who was very much out of control. So, for appearance sake, she kept going as her grip on the compass grew tighter and tighter. She had to be getting somewhere, right? If anything, she’ll eventually find the north pole at this rate.

By the time Adrila heard voices, she had twigs and leaves stuck in her long hair, dirt streaked across her cheeks and it was very obvious she had been crying a time or two. Her hair was disheveled from her having pulled at it quite a few times in a panicked state and the compass’s glass cover had been broken when she tripped and dropped it on a tree root. When the voices hit her ears, she froze. She had been walking for a good hour or two now and it had seemed like she would never get out of that accursed forest. Her feet were moving before her mind could catch up to what she was doing. Before long, she broke through the trees, finding herself on a crest of a small hill that overlooked what could only be described as rundown settlement. At the sight of the people below, she had to bite her lip to keep from crying. She was finally saved! No more roaming the forest for her! Finally!

She sprinted down the side of the hill, almost tripping up along the way, but kept her footing and continued her sprint. She found purchase on flat ground and started to make her way towards the villa. However, it seemed to be a lot further away than she had firsg assumed. Her excitment had taken her down the hill in a run and had carried her for a bit but after awhile, she couldn't keep the sprint up any longer and soon was speed walking as fast as her cramping side would allow. She could have sworn the villa was right there when she saw it on the crest of the hill! And yet, she's still going!

The speed walking eventually simmer down to exhausted strolling as she found herself slowly getting closer snd closer to the villa. Was this thing getting further away from her or something? Had she not gauged the distance correctly in her excitment? Was this another terrible spell to keep her trapped in that accursed forest? Why wasn't she there yet? Her feet hurt and her stomach rumbled loudly. She was tired and tears welledup in her eyes as she walked. She bit her bottom lip as she sniffled, trying to keep the tears from flowing. She was so close now. She just had to keep going.

Eventually, Adrila found herself finally getting close to the villa after about another thirty minute's time. Her excitment pushed her into a sprint despite her exhaustion. She pushed into the settlement, finding a small dwarven woman stepping out of one of the houses in a contemplative manner. She ran over to her, pausing just a few feet away as she bent at the waist, trying to catch her breath from the sprint. “E-excuse me,” she began as she held up a finger in the air before straightening and placing her hands on her hips while doing so. She took a deep breath, held it for a moment before continuing until her heart rate settled down enough for her to speak normally. “I’m sorry to bother you but I was wondering if you could tell me where I am. I seem to have gotten a little- lost.” She spoke the last word like a curse. She still hated the fact that she had gotten lost but having spent the last hour and a half wandering a forest despite your best efforts does not count as being not lost. She was very, very lost. Incredibly so. If it wasn’t for the compass, she would still be wandering that forest. She was thankful for that at least. She found civilization, or at least people. She found people.

A tree broke through a cloud. No, a ship? Two large crystal growths jutted out to the back from underneath, each angled to either side and down, and earth and roots stretched forward to form a hull, with elegant metal sculpted to look like roots forming reinforcement. Island birds could be heard chirping, and seen flitting about in the branches, little critters skittered about in the soil and on the decks, many of them pets. The ship typically flew at island heights, resulting in a livable place for island flora and fauna. On the bridge, located in the canopy, was a very pleased captain.

The Song of Roses Blooming had never felt so good to fly before! What had that engineer done?! She was responsive and powerful, flying as though a great smog had been lifted and what had been a struggle to just breathe was suddenly as effortless as it should be. That woman could ask him to take her anywhere he wanted, after this! So..

“Hey, Niara, where exactly are you going, again?” Why were all his instruments kinda wacky right now? And why was she strapped very securely with all her things and some kind of.. plant-contraption strapped to her back? With the way the woman had fixed the ship, he had no doubt the woman could grow just about anything.

“It’s right around here, actually. I think.. yes, this is good. I’ll be going now. Fair trades and calm skies. Oh, and before you worry, it’s a parachute. I’ll be fine.” The elven woman gave the captain a smile and wave before she turned and ran out into the canopy, to the back of the ship.

“Niara?!” She was going to sky dive?!

She’d done this before. It wasn’t an uncommon way of going from island to island. At least, not for certain people, like Niara. When she couldn’t be bothered to wait for a ferry, she’d dive to an island below, if she needed to go there for something. Usually some kind of upkeep that needed to be done. That said, she’d never dove this far previously. The islands tended to be a little closer to each other than the captain’s sailing height and the ground below.

Oh well, she’d already jumped. She fanned out her arms and legs to more enjoy the ride down, taking a moment to look about and appreciate the scenery around her. When the ground below started to seem a bit close, she triggered the growth of the plants on her back, their roots wrapped around her body and nestled into many pockets of fertilized soil. With a bit of magic to help, the plants sprouted large, flat leaves, stemmed at either end, that ballooned out above her and pulled her up, counter to the piled up momentum of gravity. She pulled on them lightly to steer herself as she took in the extremely diverse landscape surrounding the plain grasslands below her feet. Incredible. That such a place would exist in the center of it all, this calm weather couldn’t be normal, could it? She would expect eight different climes to almost.. war with each other, but this was extremely calm. Her eyes honed in on a hamlet below. The hamlet. Maybe it was normally calm here. How else would any structures get built?

She knew where to aim for, at least. She dipped a little faster through the air as she steered herself, zeroing in on the structures below. When, at last, her feet touched the ground again, she rolled and then lay flat on the earth beneath her, out of breath but grinning. “Woooo-” gasp, “ooooow.” breath, “longest I’ve,” inhale, “fallen yet. Whoo! Haaah. Heeeuuww.” A few seconds passed before she sat up, and then got to her feet, looking up and spotting the ship, sailing away through the skies. ”Aah, there he goes. Ooh, I do good work.”

@Zeroth

---

"Geeeh..." Amidst the trees and muddy, muggy water of the swamp, something was moving and making a sound vaguely similar to that of perhaps, a croaking frog. A ghost? A specter? A ravenous monster? Or the pained, mildly frightened cries of a pure maiden that had somehow gotten lost amidst the swamps? "Oh...mmngh...ooh, I hope I can find...something soon-" Something nearby splashed in a pool of swampy water. She froze on the spot, eyes darting around before a relieved sigh left her mouth. "-or maybe I shouldn't find anything at all yes that seems better..."

Her pace quickened. It was probably nothing. Definitely not some scary witch or a monster that wanted a quick snack, definitely not. Such things did not exist, and that definitely wasn't her just trying to convince herself of that fact. Ugh, she really should have continued on with that merchant that she was traveling with. He could have at least warned her that a swamp was in that direction! She'd have went around it! Or gave up on this entire idea entirely of traveling. She could find a nice farm somewhere else! Settle down! Become famous for her potatoes or something!

She tripped and stumbled on a gnarled, twisted tree root.

"Weeeh...O-okay Mei...you can do this. The swamp can't go on forever. Trees are friends and water is good for crops...it can't hurt you..." She held her hoe firmly in her hands as she walked. Well, about as firmly as a frightened child might cling to the arm of their mother. The head of the hoe rested against her shoulder while the haft would drag lightly along the muddy, damp ground. "I-I can just...bonk...anything that comes after me. Definitely...Nothing is as scary as the cemetery back home..."

A branch snapped above, something splashing into the water behind her seconds later.

A shriek echoed through the swamp.

---

"Ugh, finalyyyy...civilization..." She was tired. She was hungry. The hem of her dress was lightly dirty with mud from where she had tripped and fell, her boots were also covered in swamp mud and water, and she was never getting the taste of that swampy water out of her mouth. After having a very close encounter with being eaten by some unseen monster, the swamp hadn't lasted much longer, giving way to rolling fields and hills that she was more than happy to travel through. She was even more happy when she had seen what looked like a village from the top of a hill. She however, still could not shake the swamp from her mind. "Uugh, I probably look like some scary swamp monster...maybe I should just...go back...become one with the swamp...that's where I belong...become swamp farmer witch..."

She lightly slapped the sides of her face and took a deep breath. She couldn't think like that. Her travels had been good for the past year. Alone, too! A little more wouldn't be any worse then when she started.

The gods had seemed fit to bless her with fortune, too. A village! Or at least, something that resembled it. It looked a bit run down, but she could see people here -

Oh. What if they were bandits or specters the gods sent to punish her for running away?

Her grip clenched on her hoe again. S-she could purify them just like last time, too! No, the chances of them being bad were low! They didn't look like the rough sorts that would be! And ghosts looked much scarier...well, unless they were just trying to lure her into a false sense of security...? Maybe she should just get close enough to see, first. Sneak a little closer and see what was going on about. Yes, that seemed like a good idea. So, bravely, Yingmei would approach the village, taking the first step past the village's boundaries, walking quietly through the rundown looking buildings.

Was it just a rundown village? She was certain she saw other people here, but at the same time, this place seemed like it had been abandoned for a long time or at least like the population was dwindling. The soil seemed good from a glance, though, and the more she walked and looked around the more she felt comfortable. A weight, lifted off her shoulders and heart. Like she could breathe easier. Like she didn't have to keep running....

So caught up in her thoughts, she did not hear the sound of Yasunami's footsteps nearby as she'd round the corner of a building, nearly and almost running into the larger man by the time she even realized there was someone else there.

"HAEH!?" She'd shout, stumbling away from Akitsugu. "Swamp water and mud not delicious rice!"

Her words failed her slightly as she'd attempt proclaim to taste like swamp water and mud, not delicious rice.

---

---

Following the sound of the hammer only he seemed able to hear, he ended up making a wide circle around the edge of the village. He knew that certain professions---those who tanned leather, made charcoal, and so forth---often lived on the outskirts of a settlement because of the noxious smells, loud noises, or other disturbances their crafts produced. The blacksmith was one of these. He knew he had to be getting closer, because he could hear the echo of a crackling flame and the whoosh of a bellows now, too. He didn't know where these sounds, or the dreams, had come from. Only that they had started perhaps a few weeks ago, at the most, from what he could remember... He had already convinced an innkeeper or two that he was insane, asking about them. Even Miyusahime could not hear them. Her denial, of all things, made him believe he might actually be crazy... Until he had come here, to the source.

There was a shout, nearer to the village center. It sounded like someone else had arrived at the well? When he passed from the west to the east, crossing the major thoroughfare of the village, he had been able to see down the old road to the large wagon where a man and a woman seemed to be... either arguing or celebrating, he wasn't sure. So who was the third person? Another new arrival like himself?

A strangely shaped shadow, followed by a distant roar, made him jump in surprise and look up.

"Was that an airship?!" he wondered aloud---before his eyes next caught the small dot growing closer to the earth. "Is that a person!?" Panic caused his eyes to swell as he clasped both hands to his head. Should he try to... catch them, or something?! Was there anything he could do?! They weren't coming down on top of him---how had they fallen off in the first place?! He started to pace in circles, worried face looking skyward.

Then, a giant plant erupted from the person's back. Like a dandelion pappus, they slowly, calmly, floated down... and disappeared among the structures elsewhere in the village.

"... What the hell is up with this place?" came a shaky voice from the red-haired man's waist. Akitsugu simply stood there, dumbstruck, for several moments. Then, without a word, he turned and resumed his quest. At the very least, it seemed he was not the only victim of this village to undergo a loss of sanity.

---

He found it shortly. It was a decently sized building---or, rather, a combination of two small buildings. Divided into a working area and a living area, it was unmistakably a smithy. A furnace made of fired clay bricks and limestone mortar sat cold and unused, parts of its chimney and fuel chamber crumbling away amidst a pile of once-powdery ash that had packed itself into a sort of crumbly clod. There was a cracked anvil, a tilted rack whose rust-eaten tools had scattered all over the floor, and...not much else.

The living area had no furniture whatsoever, and its floor was naught but cold, stamped earth covered in a layer of dust so thick one could've planted seeds in it. An enormous hole allowed a bright shaft of sunlight into the otherwise dark chamber. What had probably once been a central firepit was now filled with debris from the roof. Whoever lived here before must have dedicated themselves to the workshop, and done all their cooking, sleeping, and whatever else in this same cramped house.

The combined buildings shared walls, of which only three remained standing. It was thus a sort of long rectangle, missing one of its square faces. It seemed the supporting timbers had either rotted or been knocked down somehow---broken boards, crumbling daub, and moldy thatch formed a larger pile of refuse here.

"Well...at least it can keep me out of the wind for a bit..." He walked all the way around it, examining the rest of the structure---just as someone came around the corner of a different house nearby.

@Rune_Alchemist He jumped back as they nearly collided, one hand going down towards his hip as his eyes narrowed. She--for it was a girl---shouted, and the fear in her voice stopped him from reaching beneath his coat. He blinked at her in confusion.

"...Swamp water and mud...?" he repeated, tilting his head. "Um...hello..." He gulped, and slowly raised his hands in a nonthreatening gesture. "Are you... from here? I'm a traveler, myself..."

I thought some of these figures moving around had to be actual villagers, but if every other house around here is like this smithy, the original inhabitants have been gone for a long, long time... His eyes nervously darted to and fro, as the possibility occurred to him that this girl might be a distraction for a clever bandit ambush. If they're not... Were they, too, somehow drawn here? If so... was there some purpose to it all? What manner of enchantments could be at play, and what was their source?

Brom Stronghammer

@BunniesOfDoom@Xaltwind

"Oh tell me this riddle what beats pipe and fiddle, what's hotter that mustard and milder than cream!" Footsteps bounced against the earth in a steady rhythm, the clinking and shuffle of a backpack against a scabbard sword, and the gentle singing of a dwarf with a smile on his face as he trudged through the shaded woods of the Springwood Forest. Where exactly was he going he had no clue, but that made it all the more exciting! It was adventure, a search for the cause of that vague aching pulling him towards the unknown! Things to learn, people to meet, places to see, and of course ingredients, sweet precious ingredients.

"So stick to the cratur the best thing in nature for sinkin' your sorrows and raisin' your joys!" Up and up the dwarf went; the forest slowly began to thin out until he stood upon an open clearing, an open plain descending into a valley. A gentle breeze brushed through his messily tied hair as the smile evolved into a toothy grin. He could feel it, he was near. That hamlet as small as a pinprick was what he was calling him. They said that he was crazy, that there was nothing out there worth looking for, but lo and behold there was beyond the capitals of kingdoms great and small.

With nothing else left to do, the dwarf made his descent through the vale. "Oh, Lord, it's no wonder if lightnin' and thunder were made from the plunder of- What in Great Mother Mountain's beard is that?" Off in the distance he could see it, there was an honest to God ship in the sky above the hamlet. Now, he was a man born from the heart of the mountain so one would have to forgive him for him his shock. Did he loosely know that there were islands in the sky and specialized ships were made for travel? Yes, but this was the first time he had ever seen one. Can't be that safe considering something fell from it... Was that a person?

Was that thing falling from the airship a person?! The dwarf's eyes widened as he watched the rapid descent of the skydiver. "Sky dwellers are daft," he exasperatedly said. His feet belonged naturally on terra firma thank you very much.

Still, what a sight to behold. "Hah, I guess I'm not the only one then," he mused to himself before he continued heading downwards towards the hamlet. However, before he did that he looked back at where he came from and stared silently before nodding to himself and went on his way.

---

It was strange. Every building that he had seen sparsely spaced about in the vale was decrepit and looked like they were on their last legs, if they even had legs to stand on. Were people actually living in this place? Why was he drawn to it so strongly? Oddly enough though, he felt like he was never in any danger. It was just simply odd.

As the dwarf made his way through, for the first time he the faces of people for the first time in what felt like ages.

"Hello there! Are you from around here?" He greeted them with a wave. One was a fellow dwarf with her caramel skin, wearing some interesting head gear. At least he thought it was head gear. Then there was the blonde elf dressed in fine garb... She looked like she had seen better days. The elf looked like she had been chewed up by the forest and spat out because of the salt of her tears, if the tear stains were anything to go by.

"...Are you okay, miss?" He asked tentatively unsure if he should just walk by and save her the dignity of not acknowledging the complete mess that she was.

---

The forest was quiet, save for the gentle rustle of leaves and the soft crackle of dry branches beneath Myrr’s boots as she walked along the narrow, winding path. She had been traveling for a while now, the air crisp with the scent of pine and earth. Her golden hair, flowing down her back, glinted in the light as she walked, her cloak of forest green fluttering softly with each step. She was alone, save for the book she carried in her hands… “99 Strange Plants and Where to Find Them”, a book given to her by her grandmother when she left her home and that had captured her heart. She did not know if the plant information written in it was true or even if the plants actually existed, but she was hopeful.

"The Nightshade Orchid only blooms in the most hostile of environments, where no light reaches for days..." Myrr murmured aloud as she walked, her voice soft, as though speaking the words to the very trees themselves. "Its petals, when properly harvested, can be used to create a potion that obfuscates the drinker... but be wary of its venomous roots."

She paused for a moment, looking thoughtfully at the page. The name felt so formal, so detached. Nightshade Orchid. It sounded too much like a warning. Myrr pursed her lips, tapping the page lightly with her finger.

"Orchie," she declared with a grin. "Much friendlier that way."

The book seemed to approve… or so she imagined… so she carried on, flipping to the next entry, her boots crunching against the dirt and dry leaves. The forest began to thin around her, the towering trees replaced by shadows of another kind: fragments of abandoned civilization. Yet, Myrr hardly noticed. She had turned the page and was absorbed in a description of another plant. "The Heartvine, found only in abandoned ruins, grows in places where sorrow lingers..." The name was beautiful but weighed down by its somber origin. Myrr wrinkled her nose.

"Harty," she said to herself, her voice chipper. "Much better. Harty sounds like a companion, not a tragedy."

She wandered through the village ruins, her eyes on the text rather than her surroundings, the crumbling remains of the village passing by unnoticed. Myrr’s thoughts remained filled with plants and their curious properties. Though what she didn’t realize was that she wasn’t as alone as she thought. People… others who had arrived in the village before her… were also among the ruins, but Myrr didn’t even notice. She only kept soft murmuring plant names carried faintly through the air, completely disregarding who could be paying attention to her. She walked with such intent focus, her nose buried in her book, that she seemed utterly oblivious to the world around her.

It wasn’t until her foot struck a loose piece of stone… a jagged remnant of a crumbled wall… that Myrr stumbled. Her arms flailed, and she let out a startled yelp as she struggled to catch herself. She managed to avoid falling, but her heart raced from the sudden near-tumble.
"My stars," she muttered under her breath, brushing off her cloak and glancing down at the offending stone.
Then she froze. A tingle of awareness crawled up her spine as she looked up and realized… There were people. Her stomach flipped as embarrassment washed over her. She straightened herself hastily, brushing imaginary dust off her sleeves as if to regain some shred of dignity, though her ears already had flushed a soft pink.

Myrr cleared her throat, avoiding eye contact, and pretended to read her book as if nothing had happened. The words on the page blurred together as her thoughts raced.

They saw that. Of course they saw that, she thought, wincing internally. She shifted her weight awkwardly and adjusted her satchel, determined to look busy. Her mind buzzed with embarrassment, but a small, wry smile crept onto her lips as she scolded herself silently.
"Well, Orchie and Harty," she muttered under her breath, gripping the book tightly, "we’ve officially made fools of ourselves. Congratulations."

And though her face still burned, she couldn’t help but let out a soft chuckle at her own clumsiness.

People: @Zeroth Yasunami Akitsugu, @Rune_Alchemist Yingmei Okudaira
Time of Day: Late Morning / Early Midday

---

As the pair were now engaged in an awkward conversation, of sorts, in the north-east part of the village... They were left mostly undisturbed and uninfringed upon by the rest of the world. A bit of a breeze might've blown, the sun shined down, the birds chirped and the grass sway... But, other then that, they were left to figure out their own meeting themselves.

//Central Village
_{@Xaltwind@Dragonydas@CitrusArms}

“Eh?”

MacKinnon froze when the woman started screaming. She turned around one side. Turned around the other side. Saw no one else around her. Then, right as she was grabbed by the red-headed woman, she pointed at herself and said, “You talking about me?”

And them, it was a flurry of care that she had fundamentally never experienced in her life. This was the girl who had swallowed shiny rocks to get them out from underneath the eyes of the overseer, the girl who basically bounced from town to village to city as a lone traveller in search for treasure, the girl who was worming her way into the depths of mines before she was even old enough to know that there were twenty six letters in the alphabet. Faced with all this pseudo-parental care, MacKinnon was…repulsed.

It was like sleeping on a bed of feathers: so comfy, so soft, that she couldn’t even breathe.

“Hol’ up, hold up!” The treasure hunter wrenched her face away from the cloth that Daryl used to clean her up with, bouncing back a couple of steps for good measure. “I’m fine! Buncha scraps and bruises like these are badges of honor for people like me, and anyways, I said I was revived, so it’s all good.”

She shook her head, then puffed her chest out proudly.

“And I’m neither little nor lady!” The treasure hunter thumped a fist against her heart, then brandished her broken compass as if it were the gospel of the gods. “I’m MacKinnon the Treasure Hunter! Back before I could count my age on my ten fingers, I was already uncovering the secret treasures of the earth, and I’ve been digging up artifacts and crystals ever since! Daryl, Sheryl, you are good, kind-hearted fellows, and it’ll be a pleasure to be neighbourly with you two, but since I’ll probably be looking like this more often than not, there’s no need to fuss over me unless my bones are bent in weird ways or I’m puking blood all over the place, ok?”

Hopefully that’ll settle things, from now to forever.

But what it didn’t do was settle things with the old well. While the couple fell into their marital chattering again, this time towards some book-reading woman intent on ignoring everything around her, MacKinnon settled her gaze upon the one that dropped from the sky instead.

“Hey, you. Wanna fix the well together? You look like you work with your hands n all.”

@Zeroth

---

Yingmei flinched and shrunk away from Akitsugu, clutching her hoe tightly, prepared to deliver a swift beating to this brute if he so much as dared to try or do anything. A moment of silence passed as Yingmei would process what this stranger had said.

"Eh? You're...not a bandit? Or divine karmic wrath here to punish me...?" Yingmei relaxed slightly, her grip loosening on her hoe as she'd look Akitsugu up and down. He was definitely human. Not some sort of spooky creature...and she didn't feel like he was some divine servant here to drag her to the afterlife for her dereliction and failure of duty. It seemed she would live another day.

"I-i've been traveling awhile myself and I got lost in that swamp and I'm just a little on edge. T-that is to say yes I'm a traveler." She would take a few deep breaths, shoulders slumping slightly as she'd finally let go of the death grip she had on her farming implement. "Sorry about that...U-uhm...Y-yingmei. M-my name that is. Yingmei. So you...aren't from this village either? H-hm..." Maybe this place was cursed? Was it was drawing people into it to drag them into the depths of the underworld? No, no, she was being silly. There was no way that was possible. Definitely not. "Eheh, I guess, uhm, that means we're both new here? I thought I saw other people around when I was on my way in, especially that uhm, loud display from above...are you with them?"

She wasn't sure what to make of this. Two travelers arriving in a rundown village was a coincidence. Any more was just a little odd, and not in the good way.

---

---

Karmic wrath? Is she saying she's...done something to deserve that? In response to such a question, Akitsugu could only shake his head with a blank look. As the girl explained herself, he took in her appearance and realized that she was holding a farming implement, not a staff. Why had he felt as if she should've been holding one of the ringed staves used by monks in his homeland? As if it were as natural for someone to carry such a thing as it was for a blacksmith to carry a sword. He eyed it somewhat warily, at least until her white knuckled grip on the hoe relaxed.

"Ah, my name is..." He paused. Traditionally one would give their family name first, but... Even if he was a foreigner, perhaps it was best not to risk recognition. "Akitsugu. I am a blacksmith by trade...or, at least, I'd like to be. It is a pleasure, Miss Yingmei." His waist bent slightly as his gaze dipped towards the ground. But, it seemed they were both mistaken---she wasn't one of the natives, either. Based on what she said Akitsugu also felt it safe to assume she was not with any of the others he'd seen thus far: the falling person, the couple in the wagon, or any of the other folks loudly traipsing about the place.

"No, I'm not---If this place has truly been abandoned until now, then it seems Fate, or something else, has called us all here." He folded his arms and sighed, as he turned his gaze back on the derelict buildings. "We can only hope none of them are bandits either." The most noise seemed to be coming from the group around the well, but Akitsugu imagined any band of cutthroats worth their grime wouldn't want to draw attention to themselves until they were ready to pounce. He gestured in that direction with a nod of his head.

"Shall we go see what the hubbub is about? If something untoward does happen, I give you my word I'll do my best to protect us."

The woman didn't seem to be the sharpest tool in the toolkit. When Adrila approached the woman, she simply stared at her. Which made the elf suddenly very self conscious of her appearance. She started to comb her fingers through her hair as she tried to get the leaves and twigs out of it. Even as she asked if the dwarf knew where they were, she kept trying to fix herself up a bit more. Goodness, what a sight she must look at that moment. She kept combing her fingers through her hair and only slowed down when the dwarf first answered her. Her hands slowed to almost a stop as she stared at the moment, mouth falling open slightly at her response. Of course she knew she was in the Farland Frontier! That was her whole little adventure. Go out and see the world, the Frontier being the second item on her list. Then it seemed to click with the girl and she responded again, telling Adrila that she didn't know where they were. A frown creased her face as she sighed deeply. She spent all that time in the forest and now she's in some rundown village with people who seem to have just arrived much like herself. This whole mess was getting odd and it only got even more odd when a large shadow eclipsed them.

She peered up at the sky to see a large airship sailing away, watching as someone seemed to jump out of it and drop down. She would have called out to the airship and possibly tried to chase after it but seeing how high in the sky it was, there was no way she was going to be able to get them to hear her, let alone see her. She most likely was nothing more than a speck inside if the broken villa to those on top of the ship. It was be a futile attempt and so she had no choice but to watch as a possible escape back to reality sailed off into the horizon. She sighed once more before turning her eyes back on the dwarf. She would have given up anything to be on that ship. If all the people in this area were like this dwarf, she was going to have her hands full.

When the masculine voice sounded behind her, she whirled around to see another dwarf walking towards them. Was this place just full of dwarves? Did she somehow find herself wandering onto a dwarven settlement of some type? It was obvious this man wasn't from this area either as he asked if they were from around here. So he was a roaming wanderer as well, eh? Perhaps if she went deeper into the settlement she would eventually find someone who had been here before or perhaps it was just all the same, crumbling ruins that had long ago been left behind for some reason or another. At least the people seemed to be decent. Despite the dwarven woman having an odd choice in headwear, they seemed like your average, everyday folk.

When the man asked if Adrila was alright, she stiffened before grabbing the edge of her cloak and using it to wipe the dirt and grime from her face. “Oh, yes! I am alright. I-” before she could explain more, the dwarven woman answered for her. ”She's lost. Perhaps you can tell her where she is.” The elf narrowed her eyes on the woman before she huffed and turned back to face the man. “Yes, it would seem that I am indeed lost. I was part of a group exploring the Frontier when a few missteps led me away from them. I have spent most of the day roaming the forest. My map was ripped from my hands early on and my compass,” She presented her compass as she spoke, it looked no better for wear than herself, “refused to work properly whist within the wood.” She considered pocketing the compass but was afraid that the broken glass would shred her clothing or her hand when she went in to retrieve it. So while still speaking, she began to pluck the broken glass out of the compass.

“I was simply trying to see parts of the world I had not witnessed before I returned to work. So much for that.” She gazed around for a safe place to put the broken glass without any such luck. She held onto the fragments as she pocketed the compass. “It's as if some power beyond myself wanted me here.” She sighed to herself again. Would she ever get back home? What would your employer think? Perhaps her group was out looking for her right that moment? Or maybe they searched but left when they couldn't find her. How long would it take for someone to assume she as eaten by some kind of forest beast and dead. If she ever did get back to civilization, would she even have a job left? And her work! All her work! Surely her employer would not hire someone else in her stead! They would run everything she worked to perfect! She needed to get home!

@Remram@Xaltwind

---

---

Rinn reared back as the child took her second swing, one hand grabbing his precious hat in order to keep it out if her grubby grasp. Her tiny fist sailed harmlessly past and Rinn couldn't stop his face from breaking into a triumphant grin, which only drew a deeper scowl from the girl which the old timer failed to notice, or at least chose to ignore. Stepping fully out of her reach, Rinn dipped hus head into an extravagant bow. “I am but a humble traveler, Rinn Arniman: bard extraordinaire!” He flashed a brilliant smile as he straightened.

There was a long moment of silence before the girl spoke up again. “He an idiot, grampy?”

The old man chuckled and once again failed to notice the tightening of Rinn’s smile as his eyes flashed a look at the child. “Now now, Wilma. We mustn’t be rude to a fellow traveler.”

“But he said he a ‘bird’. He have no wings… but maybe a beak?”

Rinn’s mouth dropped open in horror as one hand instinctively went to his nose but the old man simply laughed merrily again. “No, dear, he said he’s a BARD. He’s a… musician. Someone who makes people laugh and smile.” His eyes came back up to Rinn who immediately put back on his own award-winning smile.

[color= 6ecff6]“That’s right you… adorable little child. I tell stories and make music.”[/color] He looked back to the old man. “But your offer of a ride is most appreciated and my legs could certainly use the rest…”

Despite his aching muscles he managed to pull himself up onto the wagon’s seat, the little girl scurrying to her grandfather’s side as he flicked the reigns and they continued their leisurely approach. It wasn’t quite faster than walking but Rinn was grateful all the same.

He’s never been particularly fond of children and something told him this one would do little to change that. “My name is Victor and this here is Wilma.” Victor said as they rolled along. “I must say I fear you won’t find many customers, not yet anyway. What brings you all the way out here?”

Rinn blinked at the question as if he’d never quite considered the question until just mow. “I… well…” He cleared his throat and looked away. “I needed a change of scenery! I figured I’d travel east just to see what I could find…”

The old man nodded as he considered this for a moment. “I don’t suppose you’ve had any dreams about coming all this way?”

“Dreams?” Rinn replied in surprise. There had been dreams. Dreams of longing, dreams of belonging, dreams of some place he didnt known but became intimately familiar with in the strange muddy way dreams left their memories on your waking mind. Before he could answer further, Wilma suddenly sprung to her feat, her tiny finger pointing to the departing airship in the sky.

“Grampy! Look!”

Rinn looked up in wonder as it quickly drifted towards the horizon just as the sounds of a number of voices rose from the central square ahead.

@BunniesOfDoom@Xaltwind

Brom blinked with a look of mild confusion as he processed what his fellow dwarf just said. Tell the elf where they were? He'd have just as much luck telling her where they were if he grabbed one of his kitchen knives and threw it at a random point of the map; he was just as lost as the elf though perhaps a bit cleaner and less stress lines around the face. Then again, his fellow dwarf did not seem exactly to have much going on in her head. She's a few potatoes short of a stew. He thought to himself before his attention turned back to the elf.

Clothes made of fine material, articulate, and stood straighter than a ruler against a wall. Definitely the noble type or at the very least noble adjacent, the kind of person who he would help make meals for when he worked as a personal chef for a noble in the kingdom's capital. His eyes glanced down upon her compass. What the hell did she do to it? Stomp on it repeatedly? However, out of respect he stood there in silence as he listened to her entire harrowing tale.

What an unfortunate woman, was all Brom could think of looking at the elf. It was not just because of her story. He was not sure if the elf was aware of this, but she was terrible at hiding her emotions; he had a front row seat to a one-man pantomime of this woman's inner turmoil. Ignoring that, her story confirmed one thing: he was not the only one being drawn in to this town. Did that mean that there were others like them coming from the other corners of the world here?

"Well, no use in sulking. How about we go see if there are other people? If you're lucky, there's someone that can help you get back home or at the very least, find a well so you can wash your face. Oh, the name's Brom by the way!" He held a rather beefy hand out towards the elf. It was covered in a litany of scars and burns marks, and along his index finger was a raised callus. His handshake, if she accepted it, would certainly have been a firm one though he would've taken care of not squashing her hand like an overripened tomato.

A voice caught her attention away from admiring her handiwork as it retreated through the sky. She turned and beheld a battered but vigorous human. The sheer vitality in her voice was ignorant of the cuts and scrapes and bruises decorating her form. “Well! I knew I should have taken that healing class.” A soft tut escaped her before she came to the matter presented to her. “You want the well fixed, was it?”

Well well! Everywhere she went, things needed to be fixed. Was she cursed? Or perhaps blessed, to be able to exercise her occupation in such a remote place. Things here seemed very different, she found herself wondering if the fixing of things would be different, too. With a smirk and a “heh,” she made a joke for herself, “support ticket accepted. My name is Niara and I’ll be your technician, today. Let’s see what we’ve got.”

A well, was it? She was familiar with the concept, but there weren’t many such things on the islands. There were many ways they would collect water, but with the islands in the sky, water didn’t tend to pool under the ground for a well to tap. Plenty of cavernous rivers, however. The elven woman approached the structure while she examined it. She didn’t have to be an expert to tell the thing was falling apart. She picked the bucket up and peered through one of its holes, then examined the fraying rope, and the mechanics of the pulley. Everything was bad, even the support structure.

“Fixed..?” Niara rubbed her chin thoughtfully, as she examined the crank last, “we’d better off rebuilding the whole thing, honestly. It might be possible to salvage some parts, with some dedication? It’s hard to say if that’d be more trouble than it’s worth, though. If you fixed the bucket without addressing any of the other issues, the whole thing might fall apart from the weight of the water.”

“We’ll need materials, at any rate. Little bit of lumber for the bucket, new rope. I bet this one would break if the bucket didn’t have any holes..” Niara studied the well for a moment before looking around at the buildings surrounding her. “If I can find a vine around here, I can grow one near the well and we can use it for a rope, temporarily.”

@Zeroth

---

"N-nice to meet you Akitsugu..." Yingmei's voice was meek as usual, quiet and easily drowned out above any noise as she responded. This was indeed, weird. Another traveler? Were the others also as such? A small pang of worry built in the pit of her stomach again. Oh dear, the chances of one of them being some specter of divine justice or a bandit went up. The grip on her hoe noticeably tightened again. Just slightly, at least until Akitsugu brought up protecting them if they were bad.

"Weh? I'm sure there will be no need for that!" She'd shout quite loudly. For her anyways, it was more of a normal volume level for most people. More like she'd hope there would be no need for that. She couldn't handle fighting something. "I-I mean thank you Akitsugu...nngh, I-I'm not sure I can handle anything like that, though..." She'd sputter out, averting the blacksmiths gaze. "W-well...I mean, I wouldn't want anyone getting hurt...b-but, uhm, y-yes we should probably do that."

Supposing there was nothing else to say as they would head towards the others, Yingmei would attempt to confidently walk next to Akitsugu, but after a few seconds she had subconsciously lagged behind a little.

---

---

"Don't worry. I'm also hoping we can avoid conflict, even if these folk turn out to be not so friendly." The blacksmith had already turned away from Yingmei, facing down the old main road to the village square and the well where the two wagon-drivers and another pair of individuals had gathered. As the girl fell into step with him, and then slowly drifted further behind him, the would-be smith folded his arms into his sleeves and took a very leisurely pace---partly so as not to leave his new companion behind, and partly to give himself time to think.

As they neared the central intersection, it became clear that the other two individuals talking to the older man and woman were both female. One of them wore red, and the other green...and the green one was carrying something. A weapon? A tool? They came closer, and Akitsugu decided it was either a pickaxe, or a very unique kind of polearm. But he also realized that the girl in the red dress, beneath windswept strands of her lavender hair, had pointed ears.

Is that what the people of this land call...an Elf? He had heard that they were often a magically inclined people, but knowing nothing of spell craft he had no way to tell whether this one was a mage or not...unless... Wait...could she be the one that fell from the sky? I saw something spring from her body that slowed her fall. Was that the result of a spell? It had to be. He couldn't think of any other way one could survive such a drop!

And she wasn't the only one, either! Another girl, standing a little away from the rest of the group as if she didn't wanted to be noticed, clutched a book to her chest. Her ears, too, were pointed, but she wore different colors and had golden blonde hair. It was probably a little bit specie-ist, but Akitsugu wondered if she was a relative or otherwise companion of the lavender haired elf. She seemed a little ruffled, as if she'd had a stumble of some sort or something similar.

"Um...hello, there!" he called out, as he and Yingmei neared the group enough to overhear the last tidbits of their conversation. It seemed the lavender-haired elf was speaking about repairing the well--or, more than likely, that battered old bucket she currently held. As Niara looked at the buildings surrounding her, Akitsugu tried to make eye contact. "Are any of you, uh, residents of this village? We're only travelers, you see, and we've just arrived here. I'm looking for supplies and, uh, well---" he glanced back at Yingmei, "I don't suppose you said what you were looking for?" Then he looked back at the group, clearly feeling self-conscious as he continued to explain. "But either way we heard a bit of noise down this way, and decided to investigate, so I, er, hope we're...not interrupting anything?" He couldn't quite hold the eye contact, and kept glancing to either the upper or lower right corner of his eyes as his left elbow fidgeted.