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♫ ~ ¿Quién teje sus planes en sombras de fuego?
Es Ayla—sí, Ayla—la dueña del juego.
De los patios reales al polvo del mar,
Su red va creciendo, su luz va a quemar. ~ ♫

♫ ~ Ah-ah-ahhh, el camino es suyo.
Ah-ah-ahhh, su danza destruye. ~ ♫

♫ ~ Con lengua de plata y mirada feroz,
Con filo en palabras y un fuego atroz
Desde las tormentas hasta el claro sol,
Es Ayla quien manda, con un alma de rol. ~ ♫

♫ ~ Ah-ah-ahhh, Ayla guía el destino.
Ah-ah-ahhh, su poder es divino. ~ ♫

♫ ~ El mundo es su juego, las piezas a sus pies,
Y Ayla renace cuando amanezca otra vez. ~ ♫

♫ ~ ¡Era Ayla—TODO EL TIEMPO! ~ ♫

Most Recent Posts



Event: White Thresher | Location: Zengali



Ayla spotted Leon hurriedly emerging from the vendor's stall, clutching a mysterious box. Intrigued, she made her way over and noticed both Penny and Taleja holding similar items. Waving toward Penny, she approached the pair with curiosity. "Hola, soy Ayla. What are these things we've bought?" She nosily examined the decorative illustrations adorning each box, each seeming to tell a unique story. One in particular caught her eye: a woman with flared eyebrows and a colourful dress. "By Ipte, she looks beautiful, doesn't she?" Ayla smiled widely as she picked up one of the boxes, then turned to address Fanaka. "How much are these story boxes you're selling? We'd like to make a purchase."

Fananka was an educated man, educated enough to spot said Ayla Arslan, Closest friend of Maura Mercador and co-owner of the Arslan-Mercador trade company. He placed a hand over his chest and did a small bow to Ayla, "Saludos, soy Fanaka, un humilde mercador del Mar de Ensolian." his Torrogonese and manners were relatively good towards Ayla. He glanced at the box before thanking the gods she didn't want to continue in her native tongue, a man can only know so many languages. "Her beauty is something quite to behold and in a distant land she is the aspiration for many young women. For a small sum of 5 magus, I would happily hand it over to another woman blessed by Ipte." Fanaka only smiled.

Ayla curtsied before Fanaka, "Muchas gracias." She reached for her coin purse and extracted five magus coins, paying the merchant what was due before accepting her new box. Like the others, she followed suit and opened it to inspect the contents.

Ayla opens up the container and is met with a most wonderful scene. High quality makeup. Vibrancy unheard of outside things freshly made. Tools for applying that she had never seen. At the bottom was a booklet that described what they were along with some makeup theory on how to make people bow to you in avincian. The makeup had names and labels written in a language Ayla was not familiar with. The last words in the booklet are,

"A woman needs no force or words when men drop to their knees to just see them."




Ayla headed to the archery range where a young man was preparing various explosive mixes and cannonballs, hard at work perfecting his formulas for the upcoming hunt.

“It’s just not good enough,” Kitwana said, frustration evident in his voice. The gunpowder burned too slowly, failing to produce the desired blast. He had to use what they had and work with the deflagration properties to achieve the outcome the Marquis desired.

Ayla waved as she approached. Kitwana looked up briefly before returning to his work. “I said I’ll get the new prototype finished in a couple of hours,” he said exasperatedly, then sat down. “Do you happen to be an alchemist or know about explosives?” Ayla shook her head. “They are not my speciality, but we know a lot about combustion.” Kitwana gave a wry smile. “Good enough, I suppose.”

Ayla sat next to him. “We find that leaving a problem and coming back with fresh eyes helps.” Kitwana looked at her, took a sip from his water flask, and pondered for a moment. “I suppose it can’t hurt.”

They spoke for a while, and Kitwana shared his background. He was the son of a miner; his family worked in the mines or in positions supporting them. They had struggled with cheap imports from the great alliances, but the Marquis, a cautious man, didn’t want to fully rely on imports. Kitwana had always been fascinated with gunpowder and explosions, dreaming as a child of making the biggest boom possible. As he grew older, he focused on making mining safer and more effective by finding an alternative explosive to gunpowder. He had found a successful candidate, which attracted the Marquis’s attention. Now, he was tasked with creating an explosive shot for the hunt. However, his compound couldn’t be produced in significant quantities, so he had to rely on available resources. He had no interest in military matters or using his work to blow up a creature, but he couldn’t refuse the Marquis, especially since his research was funded and his family relied on his support.

“And now I need to deliver, but it’s not good enough. Gunpowder burns too slow for the punch needed,” Kitwana sighed. “If I tweak the mixture, it becomes too unstable, and the last thing we want is them exploding on the ship.” He sighed, clearly in a predicament. Ayla hadn’t a clue about exploding cannonballs, but she thought Kitwana might appreciate a different perspective. “We might not be able to help much, but what if, instead of trying to do everything with one thing, we break it up?” She considered an example. “When you use coldfire, the initial spell sets things alight, and then the fire causes the damage. Maybe you can put some gas in the cannonball to ignite the gunpowder, letting the gunpowder do the exploding.” Kitwana laughed. “Gas is too unstable; it could leak and sink the fleet.” He considered her words and examined the theory. “So, instead of using one mixture, we use two. We create a secondary chamber.” He took a quill and put the idea to parchment. “With these explosive cannonballs, when fired from the cannon, the initial spark sets the fuse. They’re timed, so when the fuse hits the powder, they erupt.” He drew a smaller circle within the ball. “But if we do a second chamber, the gunpowder will ignite this, and I can use my compound to detonate the cannonball, causing the rest of the gunpowder to erupt together, creating a bigger explosion. Only a small amount is needed, so we might produce enough for the hunt tomorrow.” He stood up from the bench and started perfecting the idea. “The second chamber will be more secure, less likely to cause an accident. Perfect, this is the solution I needed.” He smiled widely and grabbed Ayla’s hands. “Thank you, you saved my neck on this one.” He hurried to put things into place.

“Oh, before I forget, I never asked why you were here…?” He looked at Ayla curiously. Ayla sheepishly held out the bronze pass given by the Marquis. “We heard about the explosive balls. We thought it would be easier to drop them from my dragon than to fire them from a cannon.” Kitwana rubbed his chin. “Your idea has merit. If you time it right, you should be able to use them far more accurately.” He made a note on a slip of parchment and handed it to Ayla. “I’m busy and have a lot of work to do, but as a thank you for your help, I’ll make sure to provide you with what can be spared.” He smiled widely and shook her hand. “Best of luck with the beast tomorrow.”





Is that an apple in his pocket, or is he just pleased to see us?

ꁲ ꂵ ꁲ ꋊ ꂠ ꂑ ꋊ ꈼ
ꋖ ꂑ ꂵ ꈼ
Day 1 [Night]
꒒ ꂦ ꀯ ꁲ ꋖ ꂑ ꂦ ꋊ
Lock and Key [Somerset]
ꌚ ꂦ ꐇ ꋊ ꂠ ꋖ ꌅ ꁲ ꀯ ꀗ

After the initial round of pleasantries and discussions tapered off, attention turned to the matter of sleeping arrangements. Maltar, ever the practical one, opted for the top bunk above Faline's belongings, a choice likely motivated by convenience rather than preference. Meanwhile, Budi seemed to eye the bed beneath, perhaps considering sharing it with Faline. However, given his size, it was suggested that it would be best for him to have two beds side by side to accommodate his considerable weight comfortably.

Across the room, Gus settled in, presuming Torsten would be his bunkmate for the night. As for their metallic companion, it chose the corner of the room, imbued with the calming scent of lavender, perhaps finding solace in the subtle aroma.

Amandine, content with her choice of sleeping spot, made herself comfortable near the fire, indulging in a selection of desserts she had procured earlier from the silver tray. After satisfying her sweet tooth, she settled into a state of quiet contemplation, the warmth of the flames enveloping her in a soothing embrace. With each flicker of light and crackle of the fire, she felt herself drifting into a zen-like meditation, allowing the gentle heat to permeate her body and banish the chill of the cold evening air.





Event: Ransom Demand | Location: Belleville


As the attackers lunged forward, Ashon smoothly stepped back, his tailored suit rippling with his movements. With a flick of his wrist, he launched a small purse of coins at the nearest assailant, the bag bursting open upon impact, showering the thief with a cascade of copper.

He spun around gracefully, the large money bag held firmly in his hand like a seasoned duellist wielding a rapier. Ka-ching! The sound of the clunk of coins made as the bag connected with the head of another thug, sending him stumbling backward. The sound of clinking coins filled the air as the bag swung through the melee, each strike precise as he bludgeoned their foe.

Ashon straightened his jacket with a flourish, as he surveyed the surrounding chaos with a critical eye. "Manners maketh a Moila," he declared loudly, the condescending smirk played on his lips as his voice carried above the commotion. With a swift movement, he used the bag to uppercut one of the thugs before bringing it down on the back of his head. "Stay down, Tem’broa," he chided, his tone dripping with disdain. He kicked the thug as he rolled into a puddle, using him as a makeshift bridge to keep his feet dry as he approached his dear wife.

Turning to Seviin with an elegant bow, Ashon extended his hand to hers, his eyes sparkled as he drew her close. "Please, don't cry, my Eluulan," he murmured, pressing a delicate kiss to her fingertips.

"Man servant," he called out as he addressed Xiuyang with a regal air, "Once you have dealt with these ruffians, please ensure the ashes are secure. If you make my dearest raise her voice again, I'll dock your pay." He clicked his fingers imperiously, the sound cracked in the air. "You may leave the coin; I will find a new levy to enact."

Having a little too much fun committing to the bit, there. "Man-servant..." Xiuyang thought irritably. Well, she certainly was in the process of "dealing with" the ruffians, but seeing as one of her allies had deemed it fit to nearly behead one of them with a bullet, she began drawing to enhance her threat... and prepare for an unnecessarily drawn-out battle that was likely about to happen.




The fight was not much of a fight, but a one-sided affair. Two of the thugs fled the scene whilst two were left, the Eeaiko that was victim to a gun wound, and a Yasoi being held at a sharp point. The other two broke their cover as it was up to the others to cover for them.

Ashon sauntered over to where Dory and Lunara stood, their captive yasoi bandit held at knife point. With a theatrical flourish, he clapped his hands together and spread them in a welcoming gesture. "Ersandenisers!" he exclaimed, gesturing towards the shiny weapons gripped tightly in their hands. "Are these rewards from your trials? Expensive, shiny, toduul. Eager to use such toys. Want to do your good deeds for House points, luuca?" He gave a wide mocking smile to the crowd, “Five points each to Hunghorasz!”

He reached into his pocket and pulled out two coin purses, pressing one into each of their hands. Then, with a casual pat on the head of the yasoi bandit and a clip around his ear hole, he addressed them once more. "This is my jexoff moila, and he will help me find my Hyc'oilan. Leave this matter to Belle'soi." He politely indicated them to run along now.

He clicked his fingers loudly as he summoned his man servant. “He may be suffering from amnesia, we might have to prompt his memory.” He dangled a coin purse by his eye, and on the other side, is the imposing skull mask of Xiuyang.

As for the two Ersandenise, that is up to them to decide what they will do.



@Ti No, I never read that far. I quit the forums alltogether for a while.


I will leave it to a time you get bored and curious then!


Event: Ransom Demand | Location: Belleville







Oksana found herself pairing up with Captain Skugvaar who had a finger on the pulse of the investigation, along with Little Johann, and Niallus Scarlet, accompanied by the two swamp dragons. Unable to pronounce their names, she settled on the merry monikers of Masha and Misha.

Deciding to keep her distance from the group, Oksana reasoned hanging back made sense as it made her look inconspicuous, rather than accompanying them directly as part of a motley crew. Besides, she could easily keep track of them, as they stood out like sore thumbs like this, with many people giving them a wide berth. Opting for a natural approach to gathering information, she engaged in routine inquiries while sought property in the area.

Her first stop was the Buudvuud restaurant. The aroma of the food assaulted her senses as she looked hungrily through the shutters at the wide selection before her. Her eyes settled on a juicy, cheese-filled parcel topped with melted cheese, oogling how the strands of between the slices stretched like long thin strings. The appearance and the smell definitely beat anything from Vossoriya as she bartered with the teen behind the counter using the Cheburashka Jamboi method of diligently counting out bennies in a slow manner until he was satisfied with the amount. Taking her prize, she eagerly took a big bite, only to find her mouth filled with steaming hot cheese, almost scalding herself if she hadn’t quickly drawn back. She blew gently on it as she devoured it outside the shop.

While eating, she noticed others looking in her direction, speaking in hushed tones. Originally thought it was about her, but soon realized they were addressing the shop. Approaching a nearby couple, she inquired about the food. Though not understanding their gestures entirely, she gathered that the shop was deemed unsavory. It seemed to be a bad place with bad people. Despite the service being decent, the teen boy was that not terrible, only greasy looking, she asked if there were alternative places she could visit in the future, but there was no such luck as they muttered something and left. It seemed this particular establishment had a monopoly on tasty cheesy slices.

Continuing her inquiries, Oksana asked about the local area, focusing on important details like whose palms needed greasing and who and where to watch out for. She encountered varying responses, from quiet reluctance to share information, to attempts to extract wealth from her. Some were stubborn in their stance, others were eager to express their opinions to an audience. A lot of locals expressed sentiments against refugees, a sentiment she had encountered before in her past, but noted they made it clear that she was more welcome than others, with comments like ‘knife-ears’ presumably directed at Yasoi. When attempting to speak to the yasoi, she found them less understanding and suspicious, but managed to tease out some names to watch out for due to recent negative experienced. A big player was the Rollers, a group of Yasoi who made a lot of dough, and renown for their beatings. With the indicated hand gestures, she assumed the name came from their rolling pins used in baking. They seemed to have a connection with a group called the Paws, a group of human animal lovers who behaved similarly to their namesake, known for being woof in their dealings. Across town, there were the Boozers, known for frequenting beer halls and causing trouble as they grew rowdy due to alcohol.

She discovered that the Flying Lion had a notorious reputation for various incidents recently, finding herself surprised as she couldn't recall any disturbances outside of her own bedroom whilst she stayed at the tavern. Delving deeper, she uncovered that the establishment had undergone a transformation, previously known as the Crying Lion before being acquired by the Arslan-Mercador company. Intriguingly, the confusion was because locals had taken it upon themselves to repurpose horse stables near the port, laying the stonewalls as a foundation for a new establishment painted in goluboy hues, aptly named the Cryin’ Cyan. Its proximity to the port allowed it to serve as a hub for backdoor activities, including under-the-table jobs and smuggling. It was also a hotbed of political activism amongst the yasoi, with some striving to amass funds to topple Tarlonese dominance, whilst those on the bottom rungs of society were only out for themselves.

During her investigation, Oksana was surprised to hear talk of Penny, her one-legged friend, as her incident during Mano e Mano challenge has led to urban myths that she is rumoured to be making visits to Belleville, allegedly for summoning aberrations over the town, including a recent large one at the tavern.

Eventually, she caught up with the others after receiving a tethered tug signal from Captain Skugvaar. They surrounded a property where the owner of the missing finger was located. Oksana suggested she could knock on the door with the finger and offer to bind it back on the hand, though her idea was not popular with the others. Instead, she was sent around the back of the building and to blend in, with the goal to catch any escapees by surprise. She followed the instructions, leaving negotiations to the experts in the motley crew.



@WhiteAngel25 Oh my, you're running this again! But you're full. Hmm... Well, if you have ay dropouts, and you feel like you want (need?) a little more Simbel back in your life, I'd be happy to join. Just let me know if and/or when!


Did you see what happened near the end of the last one?


Event: White Thresher | Location: Zengali




Ayla politely advised the messengers that they had the wrong person as she made her way to speak to the Marquis. Sometimes, they should shove the missives in her hand before she was able to advise them, and thus, did her duty to check its contents for who they were addressed to before handing them back. Even though she wasn’t able to glean all the details, she was starting to form a picture of who were people of interest.

As she approached the table where everyone was working, she was stopped by a guard before she reached the Marquis. She politely bowed her head in respect of his duty. “Our name is Ayla Arslan, we come representing Students from Thaumaturgy Academy at Ersand’Enise in providing support. We are here to make our introductions.” She smiled warmly towards the guard, simply doing their job, and hoped encouragingly that they would allow her to approach.

The guard questions the young girl at first, this is the first time he has head of Ersand'Ernise taking part in this hunt. "I ask that you stay here as we check if they are ready for your visit," the guard politefully asked but it was obvious a command. One of the other guards went to the advisor closest to the Marquis and after a few moments, the advisor waved for the guard to let the woman through.

"Thank you for your patience Lady Arslan," the guard steps to the side and gives the full path for Ayla to walk.

Upon approaching their table, some of the advisors close to the Marquis Dume stopped their work to watch the introductions. The ones at the end of the table though had to keep writing though they showed some acknowledgment of her with a brief head nod. The advisor that gave permission raises a hand to tell her to stop at a certain distance from the Marquis and then signals her to make her introductions. She has the Marquis's full attention and he doesn't look very pleased with her presence.

Ayla moved before the Marquis and curtsied before him in the appropriate manner. “Thank you for welcoming us during this turbulent time. Please accept our condolences for the blight affecting your people. Us students from Ersand’Enise couldn’t help but be moved to provide aid to this just cause.” She gestured towards the port below, referencing her colleagues. “Many of us have arrived from across the twin continents, eager to assist, and have already begun to provide their skills in your people's aid.”

“Are you and the other students merely here providing aid at the port or will you take sail with us against the beast?” Dume looked at the girl up and down, questioning why a child had come to speak with him.

Ayla smiled politely at the Marquis. “We will endeavour to fully support the removal of this creature from your list of priorities,” she said, allowing for a pause, “and assist with lessening others as well.” She gestured towards the port. “Your home currently has many guests, and as a gracious host, you have to contend with many interests and political considerations that arrive at your doorstep. The thing about us students is that we are promising individuals, mostly from noble families across the twin continents. Some nations are aligned with the Sovereign Pact, from a Central Alliance nation like myself, or aligned with neither.”

Her smile was sweet. “We are available to support you in dealing with this threat and further concerns you may have.”

Dume's initial thoughts of a child quickly changed when said child had much to say of his worries “I am well aware of my worries Lady Arslan, child of Torragon, and am more than capable of handling them. But thank you for the offer.” His face grew stiff when speaking to her, no longer seeing her as a child just making the rounds but the same as others with an agenda.

"You say that you come representing the students and that you'll help in various ways. Do you speak for all the students here?” Dume asked her.

Ayla bowed her head respectfully. “We recognize your skill in handling this difficult matter and hope to learn from your example. We come as a resource, and we will seek to demonstrate our value to you in the trial ahead.”

She listened to the question asked and smiled. “There may be others who have arrived, and we look forward to working with them. We share a common goal and an intention for there to be hope. Hope in dealing with this threat and a brighter day for your city and its courageous people.”

He had been held up, briefly, by the guards outside, but then they had recognized their social better and ushered him through. There were many men of importance gathered, and others of little. There came flowery words from Ayla, as well, that took up quite a bit of space without meaning very much. The Perrenchman certainly nurtured no grudge against her, but it reminded him of the vipers trying to elevate themselves through their social better. His goal was plain and his time spent listening outside had given him more or less the measure of his quarry. His footsteps sounded on the marble floor. A rapier hung at his hip. He came to a stop with a smart clack of his heels.

"Marquis de Zengali." The young man nodded in his host's direction, polite and businesslike, but did not bow. It was not proper for the son of a duke and *prince du sang* to do so before a mere marquis. "Lady Arslan." In any event, the Mezegolan did not seem much preoccupied with formalities.

"I am Yvain de Berbignon, and I so happen to represent those 'others' who my lady anticipates working with." He smiled agreeably, but his bearing remained intense. "We have come here, on behalf of Perrence and her allies Belzagg, Eskand, and..." He more or less smothered his grimace through his smile.. "the other one, to help you slay a beast and to ensure that no others follow in its wake. We are - all of us - capable thaumaturges who come prepared for a fight. We shall not require much but your consent and any resources you may see fit to bestow upon our effort." Left unsaid was the rest: I trust this is agreeable.

The Marquis had grown tiresome of this conversation with Lady Arslan. Double speaking and now he might have Ersand'Ernise solo actors in their port. He even ends up questioning if his own son sent word to a contact in Ersand'Ernise. But none of that mattered, the Marquis decided that he would cast Ersand'Ernise outside his port.

But first was tall gentleman, Sir Yvain de Berbignon. He came with purpose and clarity unlike the Lady standing before him. The Marquis was much more attentive to Yvain. It was like a breath of fresh air that tells you that the eggs had gone rotten.

"Well your service will be much appreciated," the Marquis silently gave a nod to Yvain.

"Your presence is permitted, of course,-" the Marquis gave a subtle glare at Ayla, "And as such, your group will be rewarded a case of mana shots for tomorrows hunt." The Marquis lips curled into a small smile, smiling didn't fit his face.

He turned to Ayla, "Lady Ayla," his voice grew serious, "Anything you have to say?" he looked at her expectantly.

Ayla noted Yvain's presence as he entered the discussion and politely bowed her head in his direction. She had hoped to aspire to something better and greater in their meeting, aiming to create a united front with her fellow students from both factions and beyond. However, it became clear that such an aspect was unexpectedly threatening to the Marquis. As the adage goes, ‘better the enemy you know.’ The idea of a third party, no matter how benevolent or well-meaning, was seen as an unknown.

She sighed softly, especially as Yvain distinctly presented himself as part of the Sovereign Pact. This clearly identified her as being aligned with the Central Alliance, contrary to her intention. "We are all here to assist in this endeavour, regardless of factional lines. We represent students from Ersand’Enise, primarily from the Central Alliance nations, as our colleague next to us has stated. Your consent and any available resources or information you can offer would be greatly appreciated to allow us to operate effectively in dealing with this issue."

The Marquis weighed his judgement. She obscured herself as a neutral when she wasn't. Whether that was a lie, delusion, or genuine hope weighed on his mind. The Marquis was unashamed taking a minute or so of time to conclude his thoughts on Lady Arslan.

"The Central Alliance has done much to help hasten our readiness for tomorrow, and for a group representing a talented addition to their ranks, I thank you for coming. As such, I welcome you to Zengali, Lady Arslan. My aid will share with you the details and sleeping arrangements for tonight." Marquis Dume's kind words were laced with pity for the girl. One of the aids pulled out a scroll for Ayla and escorts her out of the Marquis's home.

Once at the gate, the aid gave Ayla a fair reporting of what they know of the beast. Around 34 alds long and it has attacked much earlier this year. The ferocity of its attacks are abnormally fierce but the resistance Zengali is putting this year is even more so. As for special resources, most have already been allocated, however there might still be some by night's end. He pulled from his satchel a small tablet of bronzed metal. Intricately designed with a symbol and some mezegolan words on it, similar to belzaggic. "This should act as prove for your party that you are allowed to receive special resources if available." He does a quick bow to Ayla and returns to his post.





Event: White Thresher | Location: Zengali


Taleja rolled up her letter and filed it away in her bag. Comte de Grasse certainly had a way with words; she had to give credit where it was due. Alas, she was here for work, so the poetry of the writing was not that important, but at least the gesture was silently appreciated. Upon hearing the news of sickness at the makeshift encampment, it was clear where her skills were best suited.

"If I may, I believe my talents are best suited to tending to the sick at the encampment," she politely bowed her head towards the other students, as well as the high nobility and royalty amongst their number. She gave a deeper gesture towards Princess Penelope and Yvain de Berbignon.

After excusing herself, she made her way to the destination. With her supplies, pets, apron, and plague mask, she wasn’t going to wait to be invited as she intervened on delivering healthcare to the desperate and in need.




As Taleja approached the encampment, the odour of sickness was as offensive and familiar as Perrench opinions of 'Crisians', yet more welcome. She steered herself to the area assigned as a makeshift infirmary and noticed an easily recognizable figure approaching.

"Lady Somia, it is a pleasure to make your acquaintance," she bowed her head towards the figure. Then, she tilted her head towards the infirmary. "I would imagine there will be a number who could greatly benefit from your skills in flesh craft." She reached into her bag and brought out some anaesthetic. "I do have some spare if you require any."

A smell no less familiar to her than that of her own breath permeated these grounds, the smell of rot, pungent medicines and poorly kept equipment. Spare for the visibility of the sky itself the sounds and sights of suffering bore little dissimilarity to the holds of the naval vessels she once served upon during her tutelage. She approached not long after the woman adorned in the garments of a standard plague doctor, said woman addressing her work as they greeted her for the first time. It would seem as expected Trypano's reputation proceeded her.

"Greetings Lady Taleja, a pleasure to make your acquaintance as well." Spoken with the tone of a business negotiation, formality merely a side actor to the meat of her intent. She did not bother to correct Taleja on her title preface. As inscrutable as her expression ordinarily was below the hood of her cloak her expression was all the more obfuscated, what little to be seen simply appearing neutral if nothing else.

"I will note, all forms of medical binding involve the craft of flesh. We mustn't scare the laymen with needless semantic distinctions." She cast a glare to the scant few guards around their presence, wary of her intimidating and mysterious figure.

"My thanks in advance for the offer of anodyne for those who are suffering who may see my care. While I do offer my skills in excising the roots of malady I don't intend to ply my work on those who may choose to refuse it. I am simply along to discover more regarding the source of their suffering, both within and potentially without." She of course hinted regarding their business with the thresher. If any who suffered in these camps were aware of the beast or perchance even had a run in with the creature then it would benefit them to inquire.

"In regards to our ultimate task there is something I wish to discuss... In greater privacy, should the contents of our exchange prove sensitive." She hoped with this it would buy them both an excuse to head in and be able to talk away from the potential barrier of needless meddling from the laymen. After all, the contents of the letter and the matters that might pertain weren't a topic for just anyone to listen in on.

Taleja appreciated Trypano’s concern. “It is a shame we have to face discrimination and judgment from those who don’t understand,” she offered the woman a smile. “I, for one, admire your peerless talents. Your dedication, specialization, and singular pursuit of your craft are truly remarkable feats of a honed and diligent mind.”

“Yes, let’s make time for a discussion,” she responded to the other’s offer. “I feel that your insights would intrigue me.”

The guard's nerves were already fraying from the people slowly dying behind him and the sovereign pact showing up in the port unannounced. Now a pale, crimson haired, taller than yasoi, blood mage trying to 'treat' their injured.

Ignoring the high minded speech the 2 partake in, the guard stood firm, "The wounded inside are delirious so I will be refusing your services on their behalf, now be on your way." The guard kept his hand on his saber and turned to white haired woman, "I can permit you to go in, ask the nurses for the physician when you make it to the wounded."

"It would seem the local busybodies still find plenty of time to make other's matters their own." Trypano began to proceed away from the makeshift camp. Whilst the guards posed no actual threat to her the amount of fuss they'd raise was ill-worth the good she'd lend to the ungrateful lot.

"I'll be attending to matters elsewhere. We can talk elsewhere, either now or later should you decide to press forward with this venue" She turned to address Taleja, broadly gesturing to the camp as a whole before turning back and continuing on. Trypano continued, waiting momentarily to see if Taleja would bother to follow and inquire regarding what she had to say. If not, it scarcely mattered. Whilst the hope had been to do some good by the people first before moving to primary concerns this inconvenience had done little else but simplify her next objective.

It was time to go do... Something. Maybe fix a ship or something? Who knows. Very mysterious, yes. Definitely not blood magic.

Taleja bowed her head toward Trypano, “I will meet you with you after to discuss my findings. I feel that your input would be valuable.”

She then continued past the guard to inspect the wounded.




Taleja glanced towards the performer, her green eyes peering over the beak of the mask. Leon, who had somehow performed a miracle in front of them as if he were Oraff himself, shied away from tending to the others. A trick? She certainly had more questions than answers, more than what that boy would be willing to share, but she was not going to allow an opportunity to go to waste as she moved towards the green vile substance, taking a sample and placing it in a vial.

One thing was clear: she hadn’t come across anything quite like this before. The green 'algae' at first glance appeared to be alive and parasitic in nature, which would explain why the local medics were having such a difficult time handling this outbreak. She approached one of the available staff. "Excuse me, I am looking to assist with this outbreak. Are you able to provide me with a report of your examinations and attempted treatments, so I may provide assistance?"

"Just a moment," a pleasant voice rang from inside the tent, the flap rolling up as Taleja approached. He could be seen wrapping up a green, slimy heart. He tuned to greet her but his face started to turn. His connection to the gift was being strained, and he could only guess it was his new guest.

As she made her request, he kept a hand on the knife he had used earlier. "I am unsure that a woman like you would provide much help here." He seemed worried about having a venomhand 'treating' the sick here.

“A skilled alchemist and medicine woman?” came Taleja’s reply with a soft smile. “Don’t let these noble looks fool you; I am quite versed in the treatment of ailments which go beyond simply using magic, nor beyond getting my gloves dirty in the process.”

She looked toward the heart being wrapped up, giving a solemn expression. “What was their name, and have we informed the family of the passing?” She expressed that empathetic understanding toward the man, “We always strive to do the best for those in our care.”

She held her gloved hand out towards him. “Taleja Drakenknecht, at your service.”

Taleja's distraction from Safiri's main issue had little effect. He was ever watchful of her without his gift at hand. Neither did her acclaimed credentials have sway on him though he did note them. However, when asked about the victim, Safiri acquiesced. "Sir Esuperio Julio, sailor for the Sant'Agata della Compagnia Rossa supporting fleet. He died last Lepdes," the doctor took a moment of solace for the man he couldn't help. "We have, but it will be months before the letter makes it," Safiri looked back to her now judging her offer. The wound tenders are scared to touch the men, and many of the binders are busy repairing sails and ships.

He replaced his own gloves and snapped on a new pair, reaching out his hand for hers. "If you feel confident in your ability, then let's get to work," setting aside his immediate concerns for her nature for another set of hands.

Taleja solemnly smiled as she took his hand and shook it. “I am eager to get started. It would feel like a dereliction of duty if I didn’t provide assistance, given the bravery of those here, like Sir Julio.”

“Outside my skills as an apothecary, my level in the gift is journeyman Chemical, and adept in Binding and Atomic, Master Physician?” She followed the man’s lead, questioning the name following the lack of introduction. “I would appreciate a rundown of what we know about this plague, as to where I should get started.”

Safiri went over to the open cabinet and pulled out the records he has been making over the week and a half. He laid them out in chronological order for each patient to show the progression it has taken.

"We'll start with Sir Julio then," Safiri plucked the case file from the table and put each page on the table

Orredes,

Brought in with the rest of the injured. On the boat, he was confined to the lower levels. A mild fever, increased perspiration, light discolouration on the skin, and various shallow infected and uninfected lacerations. Some history of pneumonia and weak heart as a young boy by his own account. We'll provide basic wound dressings, binding, and a mild stew for him to regain strength.

Lepdes,

Most wounds were easily mended, and most infections could be cleared out with a simple unity of chemical and binding. One wound on his out hip seem specifically resistant to this form of treatment. It doesn't look particularly dreadful but, but the wound is starting to give a light green hue to the area. Sir Julio reports he is feeling stronger, which is good.

Victendes,

Various remedies and treatment were tested on the wound today, none of which seemed particularly effective. Even simply eradicating the infected flesh with binding was of little help, like it was resistant to Oraff's blessing. Sir Julio was well enough to walk again. His colour had returned and he has quite the appetite. Some nurses reported that he talked about feeling sharper than normal, more aware of his surroundings.

Taldes,

The infection has started to spread further into the body without much warning. Sir Julio's strength has diminished, though he was still speaking as he was still fine. His senses still seem to be perfectly acute. The green hue as taken up to his mid-section on his left side and to his left leg down to the mid-thigh. More severe treatments will be used.

Pandes,

Sir Julio is bedridden, worse than when he first arrived. A mossy slough had grown across the green area, and we are having it scraped off every few hours. No treatment seems possible. We can sense the infection has made it into the blood. We have informed Sir Julio, and he has asked for an easy passing and a clergy member to see him and write a will for his family.

Orredes,

We continued treatment to help him pass in comfort. His eyesight had gone, but he was able to sense abnormal things. He could 'see' people moving about, the clamouring of the port, the singing of his people, and the gentle sloshing of the ocean. He passed relatively comfortably and peacefully, Eshiran guide his soul.





Taleja mentally reviewed the journal entry as Safiri spoke, noting the inconsistencies. From the first review of the notes, it appeared that this disease was what impeded their full recovery. The rapid deterioration of the host after initial success was peculiar. It was clear whatever had infected them possessed manas and resisted magical interventions by the physicians.

"In nature, parasite infection can cause a similar presentation,” she paused as she considered it further. “They often enhance or alter host behaviour," Taleja said, her tone grim. "Some can live in harmony with the host, like the tongue-eating Louse, others are more hostile, like the Cordyceps fungus. Sir Julio seemed to host the latter."

Safiri considered her words, scratching his chin. "I'm open to all ideas at this stage. No matter how unusual," he said, returning the case file to the table. "I remember studying this parasitic fungus in my texts. How does it relate to this?"

"Hypothesize this," Taleja began. "The patient's rapid recovery, except for the affected area, and heightened senses. The parasite would want the host to travel back to their home. They might have been driven towards settlements for sustenance, such as the noted increased appetite. With the host's deterioration, it could cause further contamination, infecting others before succumbing themselves." She gestured to the green slough secreted from the wounds. "That could be a contagious agent."

Safiri grimaced at the thought. "That's quite the imagination. Fortunately, Cordyceps isn't part of the local flora," he remarked, as he shook his head to rid himself of it, and moved away to pick up the wrapped bundle.

Meanwhile, Leon's lyre continued to play its sweet tones, as it miraculously healed more of the patients within the tent. As the sonic magic resonated at an ethereal frequency, as the green tint drained from the affected bodies, the ‘algae’ dissolving into green pools on the beds. Medical staff rushed in to assist the patients, supporting them away from the beds and the area, to clean them up.

Taleja tilted her head questioningly as she noticed Safiri pause at the other table, “It was a theory, and given its apparent vulnerability to sonic magic. We should consider taking up musical instruments…”

She noticed him raise his finger toward her, denoting silence. Taleja watched, puzzled, until she noticed Safiri's gaze fixed on the twitching, agitated, and shifting bundle on the table. "Is that the heart?" she asked softly, as her green eyes noticed its strange movements.

The cloth around the heart grew damp, as it appeared to flex, as it attempting to bounce, then it pounced at Safiri. The physician was unprepared as it instinctively moved to hit it back down. The bundle showed unusual kinetic strength, as it flexed again, hurling itself toward him again. He struggled as it forced him backward, grappling with it to keep it at bay. “Help!”

Reacting quickly, Taleja knocked over a small crate, spilling its contents, and prepared to use it to trap the writhing bundle.

The bundle continued to pulsate within Safiri’s hands, as the cloth began to give way, the throbbing green muscle dropping to the force as it shed the surrounding cloth.

Taleja forced the crate down on it, trapping it underneath as she held it down. She could feel the heart within slam against the walls of it.

"What was that?" Safiri exclaimed, terror in his eyes as the box thudded with movement.

Taleja’s green eyes glared with intensity at the box beneath her, before they flicked toward the physician. “Time to find out.” The woman’s sumpfkrake began to uncoil as they descended her arms to help secure the box to the floor.

“Destroy that vile thing,” Safiri expressed in great disgust.

“After,”

Safiri reluctantly accepted.




"To imagine..." Safiri's horror was palpable as he surveyed the remnants of the irradiated sample on the floor. "...that such a thing would exist," he murmured, sinking into a chair with a pained expression. "We regularly have scavengers, fishermen, even pirates visit our docks. If this thing spreads out of hand, it could cause untold destruction. Apocalyptic, even."

Taleja swiftly scooped the remains into the incinerator using a pan and brush. The tent buzzed with activity as other medical personnel worked to dispose of and destroy all potentially contaminated items. "This is one aggressive species of mana slime," she remarked, her tone grave. "It was agitated by the Lyre."

Safiri nodded grimly. "These are not new to us. Whirlpool mana slimes are common in this area. They sit passively, slowly consuming dead vegetation and animals," he explained, his gaze drifting to the incinerator. "But this? This is something entirely different."





Event: Castaway: Scallywags | Location: Waters near Mehameha


Kerplunk! Splash!

Maura breathed out as her head resurfaced above the water, cannonballs whistling over her head. “Silvestri, my fee just went up!” she yelled out, though it was uncertain if the Zeno would hear her over the chaos. The students found themselves dropped in the middle of the water, caught between crossfire. Thankfully, her chair floated, allowing her to assess the situation without too much scrambling. Her crates had made it through safely so far, and she would be very unhappy if anything happened to them. She glanced at the ships—three of Virangish colours and the unmistakable Blue Adam, the pirates of the Dami's eyes far from home in these waters. The land was distant, with the closest being the wreck itself.

“Everyone, head towards the beach by the wreck. We need to prevent either of them from approaching and try to create a stalemate between them so they will withdraw.”

She looked around and spotted Zast swimming towards the pirate ship. She shrugged, admiring his bravery. “Make sure they withdraw!” she shouted after the Cazenax.

On the other side, she watched as the Raffie and Ren head over towards the Virangish ships. It is clear that some appear quick to forgo their task to side with their individual interests, but that is not going to deter her from the task at hand.

“Kaureerah, we need to get the crates to the shore! Once we hold the beach head, we can get to work.”

The five of them at least, Mahal, Kaureerah, Tku, Marz, and Maura, will do Zeno Silvestri proud as they made their way toward the closest beach with their equipment and crates. Guiding her chair towards the shore, she used her gift and redirected any incoming cannonballs to give them a wide berth using her magnetic and kinetic magic.



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