Location: The Cathedral Square Day of the week: Taldes Time: 5:30 HE Characters: Brother Wolf, Silas @Tackytaff
The Cathedral Square was always a quiet district at the later hours of the day, and yet was one of the only places left open in Ersand’Enise that wasn’t a Tavern deep into the hours of Ipte. A sanctuary for all - That’s what the house of the Pentad was known for, and during the trials it served as a makeshift home for the envoys of the Holy Sees. In truth, they likely would not have denied hospitality to other teams in need, but the presence of two particularly intimidating groups inhabiting the otherwise relatively ascetic establishment left little to be desired next to the accommodations made by the Academy.
Silas had a unique talent that made positioning a luxury he could easily afford. The walls of the Cathedral wouldn’t hold many secrets from him, although the details of those within the confines of the building remained an abstract notion to him as was the colour of the walls right before him. He counted eight people, with three of them sleeping in distinct rooms in the upper floors of the Cathedral. One sat before a desk and busied themselves with scripture and one was content with sitting on a pew at the base floor. Two were also lying down on the roof of the holy building, their attention directed to the heavens - maybe they were sleeping too. A final one was pacing the halls whilst holding what appeared to be a candle.
It was all rather drab for a good twenty minutes. But then the young Icevein would feel a general numbness course throughout his body. It was like a flash, as if he had fallen asleep standing up but instantly woke up. He felt refreshed the same way one would feel after a power nap. Time did not appear to have passed, though, as the leaves being blown by the warm, Dorrad wind were still making their way from one bench to another. Maybe the Dragon had exhausted him a little too much?
And then suddenly he realised: There were only seven accounted for in the Cathedral. The one sitting on the pew had vanished completely. Looking around him, Silas would only see more silhouettes in different buildings and the occasional passerby. Then, he felt yet another numbness - a disconnect from the world around him.
“Good evening.” a masculine voice called to Silas’ right. It came from a tall silhouette that slowly approached him from the intersection behind the Cathedral, “Have you found what you were looking for, young Powergazer?” he entered the light cast by a nearby lamp. Arms behind his back and his attire unchanged since the trials. Silas’ blessed sight wavered ever so slightly, and only for a brief moment, as he distinguished the form and voice of the individual. He was smiling.
It was him. The man on the paper. The Dread Priest himself.
The initial group separated, whether to get a bigger cut of the prize or to cover more grounds, it was hard to say with the specimens that would take this sort of clandestine job. Silas headed West for the Cathedral, while Desmond suggested East toward the Merchant Dormitories. He was accompanied by the prodigious scholar Trypano in this nightly search for the patrolling priest. The gunslinger’s status as a lamplighter would certainly help in the unlikely circumstance they would be caught outside during curfew. Although, even as the hours of Dami were drawing near, the streets still had quite a bit of traffic, many of which were foreigners visiting for the trials.
Both had to keep their eyes peeled, as it would be easy for a trained envoy of the Church to vanish in such crowds and narrow alleys, especially with what Desmond had witnessed it was clear that Brother Lamb was no pushover. Luckily for them, the herd of people milling about in the streets was growing thinner, allowing for them to get a glimpse of a piously dressed man looking up at one of the dormitories. He was just standing there, fixated.
Before the duo could do anything or get made by their odd target, a trio of men stood in their way. The one in the middle, an average-sized older man with a severely balding hairline, had his hands in his pockets whilst grinning at the sight of Desmond in particular. The other two were burly men with the hygiene one would expect from a mudville goon, both of which held metal pipes with one tapping his palm with the end of the weapon, “Ah, there y’are! Almost thought you’d skip town with all ‘em winnins’, Desmond.” he spat down toward the Magusyaeger’s boot, “Now’s time to pay, or my boys here will be takin’ our rightful pound o’flesh. Get me?” he tilted his head while giving the teen the stink eye.
”Hey, Colin, that’s the bet guy?” called out one of the nearby shop owners.
“That’s ‘em, Aster.” the business owner grimaced in anger as he came in to join the growing mob. Word spread quickly, and now Desmond was made to realise that the Zeno Bucks fight had taken place around this area. Some students emerged too, most shrewd merchant kids that wanted their rightfully earned winnings. Before long, they would be surrounded, with a few definitely capable with the gift, “Now, Desmond, give us the dough or we start by makin’ the big bitch squeal, yeah?” he nodded in the direction of Trypano.
Something bad was about to happen. They did not seem like the type to take any excuses as a valid defence for not getting one’s face bashed in. But just as an inevitable escalation was about to occur, a voice called out that appeased the tension.
“Enough.” Brother Lamb stood tall behind Colin the mobster, “Who d’you think you are, bu-” he froze. Even the locals knew who the hounds of the Holy See were. Colin swallowed his words and piped down.
“This is a matter that falls onto the duties of the Lindrian Order.” he stated calmly while stepping closer to the circled duo. The growing mob stepped aside to let the Dread Priest pass, “Please, return to your homes.” Lamb turned his head to address the general populace with a patient smile on his face, “I will make sure the aggrieved parties are properly compensated.” and the people complied with the head mobster leading the rabble by stepping away, “Reshta favour you all.”
Brother Lamb then looked down at Desmond with adamant and cold eyes, “Desmond Catulus. You are hereby ordered by the Lindrian Order and the Holy See of Varennes to surrender the earnings of those who participated in your bookkeeping services.” he ordered whilst giving Trypano a singular side glance when he finished, “As well as pay a fine of eight incantors.”
For Silas: He is currently being accosted by Brother Wolf, having somehow bypassed his Powergazer vision and is likely not going to let him weasel out. The tensions aren’t high, however, with Wolf appearing somewhat casual, even friendly.
For Desmond and Trypano: The mob has cleared, but a bigger threat is afoot. Brother Lamb is demanding Desmond’s debt to be paid. How this is handled is completely up to the players, from cheesing it, to paying it back, to trying and steer the conversation toward their own objective.
The next sequence will be done live for a more dynamic exchange. No hard deadline for now, but I will keep everyone informed in the Discord. Happy posting!
Muffled sounds of metal clashing could be heard progressively better as the scouting team roamed near the colosseum. Evander and Ymiico, having opted to climb for a better vantage point, would notice the conspicuous lack of lighting - not only in the arena but also the entirety of the streets surrounding the Proving Grounds. If the gluttonous nature of the Sanguinaire’s recent drinking spree wasn’t enough of a giveaway, the premeditated nature of this whole set up was a powerful red flag to those with any sense. Right over an awning, the two with the highground could witness two shadows going at it over the sands. The sounds remained unnaturally distorted and muffled.
Yuliya, Khaliun and Abdel remained at ground level, the former two out of caution while the latter was quickly convincing himself to barge through the opened gate. ”Wait.” ordered Khaliun to the fired up Abdel. The hooded Vossoriyan sentry turned her head to the left, down the road that circled the grand arena. With a snap of her fingers, she revealed three armoured bodies hidden in the darkness by a statue with a fleeting light ball. They were alive and without any sort of neck wound. ”It is trap.” Khaliun warned, But why all this? the brief silence was broken by Abdel, ”No more waiting, this fiend has hurt enough people!” he rushed into the tunnel. ”Do not follow him.” Khaliun ordered Yuliya as she slowly slipped on a pair of white fur gloves. She didn’t move from her spot.
The Two shadows that stood in the battleground were going at it with speeds that would be hard to follow even with perfect visibility. One was a cloaked figure whose features were hardly distinguishable. If anything, the air around that being appeared almost distorted and straining to the eyes of those that focused too long upon it. The other was an armoured and well-built man with a weapon that could easily be identified as a Langxian. The way he moved and the shape of his armour resembled the elite warriors from Engyu. His stance suggested a strong defence, but he never hesitated to seize the initiative against the being that danced with him. And such brazen offence awarded the Century a direct hit onto the shadowy figure. As visceral as the strike seemed, however, it only appeared to stagger it for a mere second before it moved as if nothing had happened.
With enough attention given to the entirety of the field, those with the vantage point or great reading skills such as Khaliun could pick up on the body left on the sand a good twenty metres away from the two fighters. The clash continued with the century’s armour saving him more than once from the speedy strikes of the alleged Sanguinaire, and in turn another strike was dealt. The mysterious being was repulsed a few feet back and brushed his cheek. Then, the Engyan warrior stomped onto the sand and bellowed a furious roar to blast his foe away. It was loud, but not loud enough for how powerful the blast was - strong enough to make the stone under Evander’s and Ymiico’s feet rumble. And then suddenly the figure was gone. As if they had never existed. There was no echo from the roar, only the crackling of dust and sand settling after the blast.
Behind the immovable warrior was a blurry mass of darkness that had merely tapped his shoulder. He became immovable even toward his own will, helpless to the inevitable drinking that was about to occur. Meanwhile, an exceptionally cold breeze of air brushed right behind Evander. It was as if he could feel a presence behind him the same way the Engyan warrior had just before succumbing to the Sanguinaire’s teeth. And yet the being they were staking out was down there, indulging. The Revidian High Noble would feel the lightest of taps onto his shoulder blade, and he was propelled right toward the arena where the fight had just taken place. Simultaneously to the fight’s unfortunate conclusion, Abdel, who had been keeping back with the bit of restraint he had left, snapped. ”أزله أنت الوحش!” (Unhand him you MONSTER!) the young, fiery paladin dashed forward with flames bursting from the soles of his feet and aimed to tackle the feasting creature.
There was one that wasn’t duped by the many veils that complimented the darkness of the night. Ymiico could see the world for what it was, whether by her own skills as a shinobi or by the will of the being that imposed this warping of perception she could not tell. However, while Evander and Abdel witnessed the Sanguinaire begin to syphon the fluid of life from the Century, she saw the cloaked being already dropping the body and looking straight at her. She could almost swear he was smirking. And then, with speed that greatly outshined even her’s, he was behind her high ground partner and simply shoved him into the arena. The entity, clearly male from his physique now that she could get a good look, stared her down, motionless with his arm still extended after the push.
The illusion had shattered the moment Evander was hurled and Abdel was at range to seize his enemy. It felt like reality itself literally shattered before them with only empty space meeting Abdel’s ire. The Revidian would end up crashing into the Firrazene boy, leaving both of them in the open, right by the unconscious body of the fallen Engyan fighter. ”اللعنة عليك! وحش قذر ...” (Blast it! Foul Beast …) Abdel groaned as he got back up, although Evander could hear none of it. He suffered a terrible case of tinnitus with his head ringing to a near-migraine. He was otherwise fine with Abdel and the sand softening his landing.
Wait, sand? There was no sand. There was no Abdel either. The armoured bodies of the fallen Century no longer appeared rugged and bloodied. No, they were dressed finely with an air of familiarity to them. His vision was still blurry from the landing as well as the incessant buzzing in his head. But as he slowly focused, he came to recognize the Duke Foscari, his own father, lying in a pool of blood with a Langxian planted in his back. Further away was another body, one wearing a traditional wedding dress that was tainted by a fresh layer of crimson. Staring right at him were the hollow eyes of Celestina, recently dead on a velvet carpet. The air around him felt stagnant - he was no longer outdoors. Evander was inside a home, not too different from his, although some of the architecture reeked of Perrench influence. There was also a conspicuous lack of furniture and the ceiling was abnormally high. There was a balcony right at the top with two figures, both looking down at him. One second the one to the left looked like his ally, Ymiico, and then the next it looked exactly like the other one: A hooded, black figure.
The fireplace was crackling and the heat, dull as it may be, could be felt by the young fireblood. It almost felt like a dream - It didn’t feel right, and yet the lucidity was lacking enough to make one willing to accept this as reality. A hand reached out to him, sliding over his shoulder. It was not the same touch as the illusionary foe that had hurled him. No, it was much more tender, ”Sebastian.” it whispered with a feminine voice.
The woman tilted her head as gazes met, and then flashed her hungry, white fangs at him. She was so close, he could feel her hot breath just ready to indulge in his coveted, fiery blood.
”Hey, you alright?!” Abdel had reached out for Evander’s shoulder, checking up on him after that rough landing.
”Sensemaster.” Khaliun kept herself in the shadows and looked up at Ymiico’s direction. Both the Sanguinaire and the Yasoi were up there, while both the Tethered and the Princess could keep discreet for the time being, ”Much stronger than yours.” she concluded, ”We should leave.”
The Sanguinaire has defeated at least one Century and is jacked up on power from the overeating. Using a supremely powerful illusion, he managed to get the jump on those that hoped to have the art of surprise on their side. -Khaliun and Yuliya remain undiscovered just outside the gate. -Abdel rushed in and was easily made. -Ymiico and Evander were sniffed out by the Sanguinaire and ambushed. -Evander was pushed into the centre of the arena and forced to experience a potent illusion from a Sensemaster (identified by Khaliun) and a master illusionist. -The whole time Ymiico could see what was going on, seemingly unaffected by the illusion, yet very much outmatched in terms of speed and power to really do anything before her colleague got smacked. She is facing down the enemy at the top of the colosseum over an awning.
Opportunities: The Sanguinaire is clearly feeling confident right now and has essentially trapped Abdel and Evander in the arena. The rest remain concealed. -There is still a chance to strategize for those that are unseen: Yuliya, Khaliun, Leander and Leon. The latter two are considered not present just yet. They have a stealth advantage for now. -Retreat is a possibility, guaranteed for those hidden and a gamble for those that were made. -You are the many, and while the Century got defeated, he held his ground for a while all by himself. Hope might still be there. -Viktor will arrive soon. He was exploring another area of the city but has since been informed of the accumulating bodies. Maybe he can help! -Sanguinaires have specific weaknesses, and Khaliun seems to know a lot about them.
Many wondered what Percival de Perpignan could truly do. Some speculated him to be the strongest man in Parrence, others called him out as a farce. Today he would display the extent of his skill. The Gehenna-class Monsigneus dragon had been left massively disoriented by a pinpoint essence strike from the noble pretty-boy, allowing for others like Maerec to gain ground in subduing the beast and offering a head start to the team, “Ne me décevez pas! (Don’t disappoint me!)” he called out to his troops, many of which died by the dozens, with only the more remarkable mages pulling through.
Percy’s long, blonde hair blew in the searing hot winds ushered in by the fiery breath of the dragon. It engulfed so much and killed so many. The slippery nature of the Stink Knight had saved him from the worst with little more than scrapes on his armour, and he even caved in to help Arsene in a time of need. The act of goodness to his fellow man had the universe give him the protection of his sister when the slime that had gotten him through the worst had run dry from the flames, “You did not need to do that, Eleanor!” he complains with an indignant look to his charcoal-stained face. The fight wasn’t over - Far from it, and their best troops were starting to fall.
It looked bad. The Queen’s defence was beginning to falter and mere men could hardly keep up with a force of nature. Even Percy in his delusions of grandeur began to admit to himself that this was potentially even beyond him. As things were getting worse, observant Thunder mages could begin to feel growing electrical tension in the air. Something was coming. Up above! A glimmer of golden light sparked above the thrashing Tyrannus and descended down upon it just as Maerec had been kicked off again. With a thunderous roar, it looked as though the very heavens had sent a yellow bolt of lightning as punishment to the Gehenna specifically. The creature was temporarily on the ground with electricity running through it, but the scales had clearly softened most of the impact.
A short, armoured Knight emerged from the intense smoke brought by the skyborn strike riding a comically large horse for their size that was also stacked with mail and armour. They bore a big shield on their left arm, and a spear on the other, the latter of which they would peer toward with a mere incline of their heavy helm, “Big and resilient.” they remarked in a metallic and deep voice, although not deep enough to make the sex behind the veil evident. The spear had been slightly bent and chipped from the strike which kept Sasha fixated for a moment whilst the beast rose back up and continued its onslaught.
Despite its growing aggression, its wounds were getting to it with Maerec de Solennes gaining significant ground on the beast. But as it stood, if they didn’t finish this quickly, the Parrench army was as good as dead even with the small reinforcements. Sasha intervened to save the one known as Caelum, hurling their spear toward the ground by the decommissioned paladin, prompting magnetic and blood magics to merge together and form a barrier to save him. Only a little more. Without a spear, Sasha could only help through Essence. And with just that, it would be enough to pacify the beast after a final, decisive strike from Hildr the Red to the dragon’s maw, giving a brief window of vulnerability for the squad to finish this.
What came after was the realisation of many that they had lost an obscene amount of manpower to stop this thing. There had to be a way to make up for it. The decision to tame the beast was made, with Maerec at the forefront. The survivors helped the best they could, with Camille, Sasha and Eleanor performing the final push to finally tame the beast, and Percy keeping a considerable chemical hold on it. The Gehenna was as tamed as a wild beast could be with Maerec as the one it recognised as the dominant human worthy of its respect. Still, that didn’t prevent Percy from indulging.
“Haha! A worthy steed for a dragon slayer such as Percival Perpignan!” Percy exclaimed as he hovered to the back of the beast with no resistance coming from it. After all, he had asserted himself very early on as a threat. Hildr had also earned particular recognition with her ballsy strike at the climax of the battle. The others, well, they had spoils to veer their attention toward. Sasha, without any hesitation or tact, immediately power walked in very loud metallic clangs toward one of the three eggs found in the dragon’s lair. They pocketed one, stared back at the group of men and women that had survived, and just returned among the group as if everything was normal. The same disconnect from others was noticeable when they just pulled the strange rod among the piles of treasure via magnetism before any sort of fair distribution could be made. It resonated well with their manas. They were going to keep it.
“Where is Asier?” the Kitten Knight, having the initial goal to find the King at Chamonix but got side-tracked by the dragon, addressed the question toward the most important person in the room: Eleanor. No introductions. No formalities. Just a loud, demanding voice. “How dare you, Tourrare!” Percival waved his rightfully acquired Scales of Dami to the horse rider whom he recognised the sigil of, “You are speaking to a Queen. Show proper respect, child.”
“Okay.” Sasha made a stiff turn toward Percy before they replied, and then turned back to Eleanor with the same, stiff awkwardness, “Where is Asier, Miss Queen?”
For the King - Thunderous Roar
INTERACTING: Ulfhild @Salsa Verde, Sweyn @Force and Fury, Rolfe Bobignon @Suicharte, Arcel EVENT: Fields of Fire || LOCATION: The Plains near Chamonix
The Rearguard intercepts Hrothgar’s scouts, spearheaded by Ulfhild the Resilient, with Arnaud stepping up as the immovable wall of King Arcel. The clash is fierce, many of the executioner’s men die to repulse Ulfhild’s own. Ultimately, the seasoned ranger could barely even scratch the hulking man that is Arnaud. Slowly but sure, he gains the upper hand with indiscriminate and unrestrained force. Eventually, Ulfhild is brought to a knee and stares up at her inevitable fate. The axe is just above her with the shadow of Ahn-Eshiran herself cast upon her. But before the finishing blow could be dealt and Eleanor’s mistake rectified, a surge of lightning descends upon both as a form of divine intervention. A heavenly strike that came simultaneous to the one that befell the dragon many miles away.
Ulfhild is still hurt with a deep, bleeding wound on her chest, but it is neither fatal nor enough to subdue her. She is hanging by a string. And Sweyn Thunderspear entered the battle with Arnaud left to defend against the monster on his own. "I would say you had best retreat, big man," warns the eminent sorcerer, "but it would do you no good. This is where your story ends."
Arnaud snarls at the thunder wizard that interrupted his coup de grace. He doesn't move from his spot and stares down the much more powerful man straight in the eyes, "Le bras droit de Hrothgar arrive. (The Right hand of Hrothgar arrives.)" he bellowed as he stomped the pommel of his weapon onto the ground, causing the thick, red ichor on his axe's blade to drip down faster, "I have taken two of your elites already. Your words mean nothing, Thunderspear! You cannot stop me."
With malicious essence magic, Ulfhild is kept from healing for the time being and the two powerful men are left to clash one on one. Sweyn, with his immense power and speed, accomplishes what Ulfhild could not during the entire fight: Heavily wound Arnaud. And with a single arcane spear to the shoulder. Still, the Aheri doesn’t falter, but it allows for the ranger to recover without any hindrance.
"If you run now, to your pretty little king, I may let you live," Sweyn taunted, rising from the ground, arms crossed. The Aheri does not listen, and instead seeks to bury both of them with a powerful earthquake. An attack that both of them easily avoid, as Arnaud feels himself tired after the fiery impalement. "If you will not accept my mercy," Sweyn roars, "then you will die for your pride!" Eyes blazing with magical energies, he picks up the massive figure of Arnaud like a child's plaything and makes a squeezing gesture. Armour begins to crumple. Bones begin to snap. The agony is unbearable. A breath of fresh air entered her lungs. The pain was gone for the most part, still a bit delirious from the bludgeon. Thunderspear had bought her enough time to regain her composure and once again enter the fray. Seeing the Parrench soldier being squeezed like fresh citrus, bought her some joy. She unsheathed her sword and ran towards Arnaud hoping to deliver the finishing blow in the art of a skewer.
Ulfhild's strike is swift and sure. She dodges the roguish Rolfe Bobignon that had come to Arnaud’s rescue who emerges from the shadows and slices down towards Arnaud. By all rights, he should die. Then, her blade is yanked from her hand with incredible force and driven into the muddy ground a handful of yards away. Sweyn casts about immediately for another intruder, as does she, but none is to be found. It is as if the gods themselves have spared this man after having appeared to have condemned him.
He is ready to die. His duty is fulfilled. The Thunderspear is kept at bay, hopefully long enough for Parrench to regain an upper hand. But as the end was nigh, an inexplicable intervention stops this unceremonious conclusion. Arnaud chuckles at this turn of events. It wasn't the Gods that intervened. Or perhaps it was a God. Battered and weakened, he is on one knee and still facing down his enemies, "You will lose this war, Thunderspear. With or without me, Arcel will be victorious." he states with his strong accent, before ripping off the remainder of his armour and clothing on his torso, "Show me what you've got, little man." Rolfe de Bobignon rushes over to Arnaud after witnessing the miracle, and attempts to bind his broken bones back together. "Hold on, Ser! Je suis avec vous!"
Rolfe is severely burned by Ulfhild’s lava strike from below, nearly knocking him out. Arnaud roars in fury. Steam erupts from his being as he stares down the vastly more powerful side. There is little chance of him surviving, but upon seeing Bobignon being pushed to near death already for simply saving him, the Aheri removes all his restraints, "Now I fight as the Zuyr Aheri, Arun!" he growled, his axe tossed aside like it was disposable trash. No armour, no weapon, just his bare hands and incredible speed. He goes to finish what he started with Ulfhild, attempting to seize her with his bare hands.
Rolfe relegates himself to distracting Sweyn, while Arun goes to finish the job. With no armour and no weapon, he uses his hands to slash and smash through everything sent his way while taking any beating needed. Eventually, he does seize the battered woman and smashes her to the ground, readying her for a proper execution. There is no avoiding fate this time, and Ulfhild’s growingly notorious resilience could only go so far. As Arnaud readies his fist to obliterate the ranger’s chest and finish her, Sweyn comes to the rescue once more. His unfathomably massive power on full display.
The moment that he sees Arnaud pummel Ulfhild, Sweyn does not speak. He acts. Prizing her roughly from the giant's grasp, he sets her down on the round before bringing his hands together in front of himself. Seizing the man's arms and legs separately, the Thunderspear hoists him up into the air with naught but a gesture. Considerable strength: that is what the executioner fights his own execution with. It was this man who killed Olaf. It will be the old druid's former pupil who avenges him. Arnaud may be strong, but he is a bucket compared to an ocean when weighed against Sweyn. The sorcerer separates his hands and then it is Arnaud himself who separates. Ligaments and tendons rip and give way. Flesh pulls apart. Eyes bulge and blood gushes.
There is no smile on Sweyn's face, only a grim sort of satisfaction. The Aeresvaktr protect their own. His eyes bore into his victim as he stands there unflinching. Unflinching.... unmoving.
In fact, nothing is moving. The world goes still. Nobody and nothing budges.
For a moment, the only thing that moves it Sweyn's eyes. They narrow and he begins to strain. Another massive power starts to pull against his. Slowly, slowly, and then a little bit faster, the gaps between the five separate pieces of the king's executioner pull themselves back together. The figures in the background reset to earlier positions. Sweyn lets go and Arnaud, wounded but very much in one piece, collapses to the ground. The Eskandr's face looks panicked and he wastes no time lashing out with a colossal thunderbolt the very moment that swirling tear in the fabric of reality opens beside him. His target is none other than Arcel, King of the Parrench.
For all of the power in the bolt, it is absorbed and dissipated effortlessly by Arcel. "I will give you one chance: accept my mercy and leave this field to us now, or you will die here, Sweyn Thunderspear, butcher of Relouse."
Again, he was about to die, and this time in a fashion befitting an executioner and not a warrior. Arnaud was ready to let go, his body barely resisting the unfathomably powerful grip Sweyn had on him. As tough as he was, he screamed in pain from the tearing, but he kept an adamant glare on Sweyn.
Then, it all was undone. Somewhat. Arnaud was in terrible shape, but could still move with his whole body. His heart was killing him, very much tachycardic, but that wasn't going to stop this man, especially after being saved by his lord. Wordlessly, he stood by his king.
"Arnaud, good and faithful ally, you have more than done your duty," said the king. "But you are of no use to me dead or crippled. Take Sir Rolfe are join our army, posthaste. II trust a man of your caliber can still move. Alert them to this Eskandr trickery and send riders ahead to the city!"
Arnaud flinches, but then nods, "A vos ordres, votre majesté. (As you command, your Majesty.)" he wasted no time and Force-hopped to his destination with Bobignon carried along. His heart was about ready to let go, but he was going to at least complete this final order.
"Ulfhild!" called Sweyn. "Go join the Nashorn! I will hold this.... demon off for as long as I can. Bring our troops up. Send riders around to our King's force and we shall have him caught between us!"
"My turn," growled Arcel.
There was a blip: a moment when reality wavered. Nobody was quite certain what happened during it, but the two men stood there, locked in some sort of duel that nobody else could see, as other battles were fought and other people ran to prepare for something that this small action today was merely the harbinger of.
Location: Merchants’ Quarters, Isabella’s Residence - Commoners' Dormitory Day of the week: Lepdes Time: 3:00 HS Characters: Abdel, Isabella @Pantothenic
The Free City wasn’t just gorged with foreign students and their fierce supporters on this long week of intense trials, but also of many businessmen from around the world seeking opportunities and new trade lines. It was inevitable that Isabella’s budding endeavour would take this chance to get new fabrics with Abdel running as the errand boy while he could still make use of his legs. He had the rapport with his fellow tethered, allowing for an easy part-time job that paid well. With a set amount given to him by his boss, he acquired specific quantities and types within broad categories to carefully pack and deliver.
Snowsweeper wool from a Barthian trader and top Velvet from one of Carmillia’s own network of clothing lines, not that he knew this luxurious stall was run by a peer. The quantities were relatively restrained and fit in his messenger bag. Part way through the crowds eagerly waiting their turn to try out the foreign goods, Abdel stopped to rest his hand over his left calf to give it a little massage. The thought of participating in a race was not thrilling whatsoever, but he had to push through, at least for himself. He made it back to Izzy’s abode, finally, “Hello, Hola, Guten tag, I got it all!” he triumphantly waved his bag as he removed his shoes at the entrance and made his way to deliver the fabrics onto Isabella’s work table.
“Dude, there was this huge, sweaty beard guy holding out the wool.” he opened up as he laid out the white wool for his fellow Tethered to examine, “Guy just kept staring at me all off-like. So I stare back-” he illustrated the intensity of his glare. It wasn’t much. “So, he snarls ‘cause I’m not backing down. Give me the price of two magi for half of this! I was all like ‘Nah, Nah’,” he waved his hand in an exaggerated manner, “One Magi for four pieces. Final offer. We nearly duked it out but …” he rubbed his chin and grinned confidently, “Let’s just say he’ll know better than to deal with Abdel Varga next time.”
Obviously that never happened. Still, he did seem to get it for a decent price given the change he brought her back. There were likely other methods used, some not so brag-worthy, “So, meat. Why not just get regular meat from the butcher? You’d save yourself an Owl or ten.” he crossed his arms and half-sat at the edge of the robust table.
Location: Merchant Dormitories - Zarina’s Quarters Day of the week: Victendes Time: 1:00 HD Characters: Arlo, Riesco, Zarina
“Thanks, boys. I’d offer hot coffee but …” Zarina snickered at her joke as she waved the movers goodbye once they had installed the large, mammoth wool bed into her dorm “room”, which was more so a comfortable apartment, she had won in the auction. A lot had to be moved and the comfortable and oversized cushion took a lot of the living space, but it didn’t seem to perturb her whatsoever. There was also an unsigned portrait of Queen Eleanor made to hang on her wall, although it definitely came off as a placeholder.
The Virangish lass took some time to admire the new state of her temporary home with a glass of red wedged between her middle and ring fingers of her right hand. What a day it was, and she was feeling the exhaustion creeping into her for an early sleep. But before she could get too deep in self back-patting, a collection of clicks and calls directed at her came from the hanging bird cage she had near one of the windows. Arlo was frustrated - he did not get his evening snack! Fighting Yasoi and bidding massive coinage for beds and pieces of art would make anyone forget about responsibilities.
“Yeah, yeah,” she sighed and put away her half-finished glass on the nearest surface, “at least say please, little man.” she stopped before the thin bars of the opened cage and shook her visage before it. Suddenly, a little, blue head emerged from the makeshift shelter inside of it. The chirping continued and wasn’t going to stop, “A kissie first.” she ordered. Arlo didn’t budge, not yet, “A kissie.” she tapped her nose and waited for a good minute. Like a cat, it seemed this little critter was taking his sweet time to be decisive. Eventually, he did crawl out and approached his master’s face, only to then rub his snout over the tip of her’s, and then go for a harmless bite on it, “There we go! Good boy.”
An already halved peach was seized from a cupboard and delivered to the reptile. It enjoyed its snack, and eventually returned to its abode for a scheduled sleep. Next, Zarina was reminded of her next child she had to tend to: Riesco. He had gotten proper treatment in the morning, but she could do better. A descent to the stables would have her meet with the Camargue horse, calmly resting over hay with his ears perking at her arrival. He recognized her steps and was quick to stand and greet his friend, “Hey you.” she cooed, hands quick to venture through his mane as she stepped into his pen. Riesco was well brushed and clean barring from the hay stuck to him. The pen, however, could be better with filth left at the back, “دعنا نجهزك للنوم ، أليس كذلك؟ (Let’s get you ready for sleep, yeah?)” she seized a broom and got to work.
The horse’s little home was cleaned and the old way replaced with a fresh pile for him to indulge in, “Noisy day, huh?” she kept speaking in Virangish, “Loads of new people. Kind of made me anxious at the start too.” Riesco shuffled about to give his rider some space to manoeuvre, “But that wasn’t so bad.” she passed her hand over his side and slowly brushed through his grey and white fur, “I got kind of scared today, though.” she confessed, and he turned his head at his friend’s change of tone, “I don’t have the best of feelings about what’s to come. Something just-” she reached out to Riesco’s snout and let him sniff. No treats, which prompted him to frisk Zarina a little with more sniffing and lip flapping, “doesn’t seem right.” he then made chewing motions while she rested her forehead on his, “Good night, my sweet.” and with a kissie good night, she left her horse with a clean pen.
Back to her residence, Zarina briefly paused to notice a good dozen of armoured individuals march through the bigger streets. Strange, and only increased her worry. She took a warranted bath given all that she had gone through that day. Afterward, a prayer. Her bedroom wasn’t too big with a relatively large wardrobe, a queen sized bed and a night stand. And, of course, an end table with both her Froabas eggs placed with custom-made incubation kits that kept them safe, warm and exposed to the sun during a good portion of the day. She prayed before the eggs over a carpet she unrolled from under her bed. A brief but important ritual, before she collapsed onto her bed from exhaustion.
Zarina was sick as a dog, huddled in a corner of a tavern after having ingested one too many mana concoctions from their new teammates. It started fine with her capitulating to peer pressure and masterfully taking a prime shot. But the second … She never thought she could unleash that many fluids in such a small span of time. Still, in her zeal to not be one-upped, she went for another shot, and vomited the entirety of her half-digested breakfast and the manas in her stomach. Loads of wheezing and moaning could be heard as she continuously barfed out yet more bile.
”Never took you for a lightweight, Al-Nader.” teased Jomurr with a smirk. He had no issues keeping his shot in, and wasn’t foolish enough to go for more, “Fuck. You.” she turned her head and flipped him off, “Awh shit …” she quickly aimed for the bucket again and let nature do its thing. Waves became spittles and eventually she emerged. Sweaty, pale and seeing double, she stumbled toward a table and seized the first drink she could find.
It was a basic mana brew, accidentally left by one of her new teammates. It was too late to stop her, she was going to wash the awful taste out of her mouth one way or another. It was entirely downed before she could even process the taste. Everyone froze and just stared at her, ready to take cover. Zarina was standing stiff, eyes wide and her hands over her tummy. ”She’s gonna blow!” called out one of the bar patrons.
“Burp.”
She felt a tad refreshed. The foul, acidic taste was replaced by an equally foul but cool one that didn’t burn her throat. The energy that coursed through her from the increased mana count definitely helped too, “Okay. So!” she clapped her hands together to get her team’s attention as some emerged from their hiding spots. Her eyes shifted left, and then right, before an infantile grin took form, “Back to it.” she seized the nearest shot and offered it to Desmond.
Poor Desmond.
Velles 5th
Location: The Grand Plaza Day of the week: Lepdes Time: 2:00 HE Characters: Arlo, Casii @Pirouette, Maura @Ti, Zarina
“What in Eshi’s …”
Zarina overheard quite a few fellow students pipe up over the news of a cooking contest of all things. Something about a Perrench Marquis, a rare meat and cash to be made. It was only when the Snowsweeper, a notoriously endangered species from the South, was mentioned that the Virangish businesswoman took interest in the notion. It was her break from the post-trial Zeno Bucks shift after all. She butted in and attempted to peek into one of the few fliers around, “Give me that.” she snagged the paper from the Perrench boy and took a read while giving her apron a few brushes with her idle hand.
“Rare and big game hungry assholes. Great.” she folded the paper and tossed it back over to the not-so-happy kid she took it from, “And wants us to do a cook-off. Sounds like broke nobility wanting to make a comeback.” she sighed as she reached over to her shoulder where Arlo, her Blueberry dragon, emerged from her mane and peeked out. Little scritches were graciously offered to the critter and in turn it responded with purr-like clicks and a few “Mep”s.
More students seemed intrigued by this news, and a couple of familiar faces could be distinguished from the crowd. Well, a face and a chair for one of them. “You don’t suppose either of you are qualified enough to be considered a butcher or a cook are you? Because that job is gleaming with opportunity”. inquired Maura as Zarina entered the small group with Casii being involved as well, “If you do, then we have the skill, and my resources to exploit this for all it is worth. Want to partner up?” the Virangish teen crossed her arms whilst Arlo took flight to circle over the group. He looked a little overwhelmed by the number of people gathering in the plaza.
“Opportunity? You wanna off and cook a Snowsweeper, Maura?” and then she squinted before leaning in a little, “Good on you to join the school, by the way.” no smile, no fluctuation in tone, just slightly pursed lips as she greeted the wheelchair-bound girl. Arlo would end up landing on Maura’s shoulder and sniffle through her hair, “I don’t know about you, but I’ve no desire to do that.” she peered over at the Yasoi and glared, “However I know she wouldn’t hesitate to grind and mangle creatures for obscene purposes.” she exhaled aggressively from her nostrils.
“Tell you what, though. As Ayla’s good friend, I’ll hear you out. If only to prevent this one from killing thirty animals for fun.” Zarina crossed her arms with a stiffer posture adopted, “I can do butchering - I’ve done that quite a bit when travelling. Just don’t expect me to slaughter all willy nilly.”
-Zarina has her auction winnings brought home. Tends to her pets and prays before sleep. She feels anxious about the future. Also notices the Century. -She barfs most of her mana shots. Lightweight as fuck. Downs a brew anyway. Party goes on. -Hears Maura out on this 'opportunity' involving this cooking competition. She doesn't want to slaughter an endangered animal and antagonizes Casii in this specific context.
23 | S E C R E T | P A R R E N C E | T H U N D E R - E S S E N C E - B L O O D | K N I G H T R I D E R__ _ _ _ _
C H A R A C T E R I S T I C S__ _ _ _ _
[ Tourrare ]
Born as a surprise (and unlikely) second child to a huntsman and his wife, Sasha was the second child of a Tourrare family that would end up joining houses with a renown Lord of the tribe. Like many of their kind, Sasha is thoroughly knowledgeable and experienced with animals, especially horses, and is frequently seen tending to the largest ones.
Their place among the Tourrare society is unique, however, as they seldom interact with others while the obscure but spreading myth of the Golden Blood spreads outside the lands in which their people live. Unlike their people, Sasha is generally seen as inauspicious and avoidant of others, whether outsiders or fellow Tourrare, with minimal regard for status or cultures. It is a surprise that they have lived this long as such a recluse and outlier.
[ Squire of the Lion ]
One thing that always captivated Sasha was the existence of exceptionally large or exceptionally small creatures. To ever discover these mesmerising beings, they would have to discover the world - a terrifying notion to the reclusive and discreet Sasha. This wanderlust that clashed with their innate revulsion for a break in the comfortable routine has brought them to becoming a pupil to the Tourrare’s most promising warrior, and their brother-in-law, Asier Arslan. Although the rapport between Sasha and Asier had been budding about as long as he had been close friends with Giselle, their sister, allowing for the now veteran of the battlefield to easily relate to the challenges brought by Sasha’s temperament and quirks.
[ The Kitten Knight ]
Baptised the “Kitten Knight'' as a humorous jab to their position as a Squire to the Lion (and that they’re smaller than Asier), Sasha is neither a Knight (yet) nor harnesses the awesome powers of kittens. It is interesting to note that cats do seem to be attracted to Sasha and will frequently demand food while mounting their shoulders. They have little aversion to it, if not sometimes overwhelmed by the numbers. These creatures are nice, predictable and don’t make them question their actions. Unlike people. They still don’t quite understand the purpose of this moniker or any humour behind it.
[ An Immovable Rider ]
Few have ever seen what lies behind the layers of metal, mail and padding that protect Sasha from the world. The weight of such a getup does not appear to bother them, and if anything is something sought after with Thunder and Essence Magics keeping the extreme nature of it under control. All that protection and the helm elevate Sasha to about 5 feet and 7 inches, however their natural height is closer to 5 feet and 3 inches. Pale but healthy skin can sometimes be seen in the rare occasion Sasha removes their armour - usually for blood ministration - but little else is known about their appearance beyond the reflections of slightly golden hues beneath the cracks of their helm. Heavy and efficient at blocking out noises, it is a safe haven for an easily overwhelmed creature like Sasha.
B A C K G R O U N D__ _ _ _ _
Sasha was a surprise to their family, coming a handful of years after their sister, Giselle, to a family that had been trying to conceive a male heir. Ultimately, whether Sasha’s very sex was in accordance would matter little, as their development would prove to be difficult to the family, leaving them to see Giselle’s childhood friend and future groom to be their son figure. Nonetheless, despite their odd nature and peculiar physical features such as their eye colour, Sasha was accepted among their people.
A recluse for most of their childhood, it was said that Sasha only began to communicate verbally at the age of five and actively avoided others. Especially during gatherings - they were overwhelming. Still, it did not take long for the oddities surrounding Sasha to attract attention, and eventually the unveiling of their miraculous “golden” blood. It was known that, in rare occurrences, mages could be born with immense resilience to afflictions which first appeared to be Sasha’s case but the additional phenomenon had yet to be documented: The blood could greatly accelerate healing when ingested by another.
The Tourrare believed in an envoy of Aun-Oraphe, although the Holy See was very reluctant to concede any such notion to a tribe that had always been poorly regarded by the rest of Parrence. Nonetheless, with more attention on Sasha came more consideration for the person by their entourage. With a wheel test and surprising knack for mimicking her teacher’s, Asier’s, Thunder, it was deemed more than beneficial to make due with Sasha sometimes overwhelming quirks with the promise of a formidable boon for the Tourrare. Although perhaps their brother-in-law simply wished for Sasha to get as big of a chance at life as they could.
Sasha remained blissfully disconnected from the geopolitical machinations of outsiders, having almost never left their steppe. Their daily life consists of handling beasts, training and ensuring the peace in their people’s territory while always wearing those heavy, clunky layers of metal armour before stepping outside. A tranquil existence if not increasingly stressful with the prolonged absence of their mentor who had gone to the war. When the news of Asier’s potential capture reached home, however, a promise was made to his wife in daughter: Sasha would bring him back, lest they never show their face again from under their iron helm.
I N V E N T O R Y__ _ _ _ _
❖ Aun-Ipté’s Embrace: A massive amalgamation of metals used to form Sasha’s armour, mostly composed of iron. It is all managed and kept in one piece with a constant magnetic field that can be felt when close.
❖ L'Alabarda de la Estepa Daurada: A long, iron halberd with gold ley lines that trance through the bar right up to the tip and blade. Very good synergy with Thunder Magic.
❖ Hierbamonte’s Bulwark: A large, circular shield with brass coating that could almost be called a tower shield.
❖ Arriscat: Sasha’s Hierbamonte Horse, a massive mare standing over 220 cm, generally used for field work and heavy carriage work. Not a very fast beard but has the strength, stamina and back to handle a heavy rider and heavy armour.
❖ Segu: A dwarf cat species gifted to Sasha from a Djamantese noble that was treated with their blood. It is as small as a kitten and often seen on their shoulder. It remained home, but Sasha kept a crude drawing in their helmet.
❖ Vemonankh, the Staff of Perdition: A Hegelan-made staff found in the Tyrannus Gehenna’s hoard in Mont Errant. A staff that increases efficiency in charge drawing and thunder magic casting. It is considered to be of very high quality, just shy of the best. A strong offset to one of Sasha’s weaknesses.
❖ Tyrannus Monsigneus Egg: Acquired in Mont Errant with the staff, it is believed to hatch soon. It has been trusted to the Tourrare forces that came with Asier and survived.
Sasha, despite being a recluse, was quick to learn anything that involved the Gift with a strong inclination for Thunder and Essence magics. In theory, they can use all five schools to some degree, but three are their main focuses:
❖ Thunder: Sasha’s strongest spells reside here. Most of her notions were acquired by the tutelage of their brother-in-law and do not disappoint. Whether it’d be magnetism of lightning strikes, they can do most of it.
La Llança de Echeran-Zept: Most of Sasha’s gathered charges are focused onto their spear, making for very strong spatial compression, making for a devastating strike. The magnetic field that keeps their armour stable with some pieces made to levitate around them to more easily gather charges. Until Sasha’s next attack, a lower dice than normal is used to defend (cannot defend allies too). In exchange, the next attack will be a level higher. This limit can be removed by spending a turn charging the spell (no movement), disallowing defending of allies. With the Staff of Perdition, a coin flip can determine if this charge is skipped.
El Mur de Oraphe-Zept: Energy is drawn and converted into thunder magic that re-enforces that bonds of the iron worn by Sasha and eases swift intervention when an ally is in danger (with their massive shield). Sasha’s defence roll increases a level but the offensive roll takes a penalty as this considerably slows them down. They can use their normal defense roll to protect an ally this round too, but cannot attack or have attacked this round. So long as the horse is at play, a 4 dice with the winning result being 4 can get an additional defense in.
❖ Essence: Focused mainly in internal magics, especially on themself, Sasha orients her efforts in keeping the soft, little creature hiding inside the armour safe. It is also a school of magic that isn’t too negatively affected by their blood type.
La Sang de l’Or d’Oraphe: Sasha’s abnormal blood, stemming from both their mana type and a unique mutation in the actual blood cells, has strong healing qualities but loses its strength after a few minutes outside of the body, making it only useful fresh. A coin flip will determine whether Sasha refuses treatment or allows part of their body to be exposed to offer their blood.
❖ Blood: Sasha will mainly use this school of magic for mild injury healing and drawing from metal of fallen warriors to repair their own armour/equipment or create powerful defenses for their allies. For bigger heals, if they opt to not use the blood, they will suffer a penalty to the healing as they lack the experience and human contact to properly execute such a feat.
S T R E N G T H S & S K I L L S__ _ _ _ _
❖ Hyposensitivity to Touch and Pain ❖ Obsession with extreme sizes - Can quickly and accurately calculate sizes of things and distances to a degree. ❖ Immense Vitality ❖ Very good with animals
W E A K N E S S E S & F L A W S__ _ _ _ _
❖ Hypersensitivity to Sounds - Prone to Meltdowns ❖ Absolutely no social tact ❖ Inexperience - High anxiety from routine breaking ❖ Slow Drawing and Slower movements
The Grand Plaza was bustling with folks of all walks of life in the morning before The Dragon. The large notice board didn’t just appeal to those craven for money or the usual suspects of Mudville, but also to the lordlings of Ersand’Enise who sought new experiences and opportunities to land the rare quest for a unique artefact. Many of the postings were relatively mundane with many offers for jobs that flew over the heads of the elite majority of the school, some others were simple tasks with varying levels of rewards. Only a handful offered what most dreamed about and were inevitably fought over.
There were, however, jobs that couldn’t simply be posted out in public. Even the boards in the questionable alleyways of the Workman’s Quarter did not advertise more than recruitment offers for ethically challenged small jobs. If one wanted to rake in the big bucks and experience life on the edge, they had to have connections or the will to put their nose in places few would willingly want to. The arrival of the Century made the opportunists from the underworld all the more wary of those who caught wind of their machinations, but the offers were nonetheless still there.
The Century wasn’t the only thing that had come to the Free City as of recently. The exotic and powerful individuals from across the world ushered in sinister interests that greedily rub their hands at such a golden opportunity to exact their agendas with limited obstructions.
One such interest was represented by a notorious name among the Twin Continents’ underworld: Sinn’ulen’luunetar, commonly referred to as simply “Sinn”, was a well-known broker for affluent parties. Trust is a very difficult and expensive thing to gain in this line of work, and Sinn is one of few that had earned it with his credibility never being questioned in the twenty-odd years he had been operating. What exactly he was looking for was unknown - dissemination of information was not a thing among these people - but the select few given a rendez-vous through their own means were given “600 Magi” and the possibility for much more with the promise of no blood needing to be spilt.
Ultimately, four were vetted by one of Sinn’s envoys and provided with a location and time: The Docks, “The Birch”, 5 Eshiran. It would be dark by then, with a convenient few patrols. The ship baptised “The Birch” was an old Caravel ship parked in one of the end rows with access made easy for any intruder who would care enough to board it. Upon setting foot onto the creaking floorboards of the deck, the four interlopers who had been seduced by either the compensation or the mystery of the meeting would be greeted by the infamous broker himself.
”We will keep this brief,” Sinn’ulen’luunetar’s deep, masculine voice beckoned for their attention before he spat the jamb’ysp he had been chewing, ”or the Century will find you with me.” they had a lot to lose if they were found associated with such a man. He was sitting on the stairs leading to the quarterdeck and seized the brown, leather bag by his feet. The boat was poorly illuminated, which made his Yasoi features difficult to distinguish until he got closer. Clearly, he wasn’t a Constantian by his features, and yet he spoke in perfect Avincian, ”All you need is here.” he set the bag onto a convenient barrel that was tied to the mast. A general glance was given to the four teens, with Silas warranting a squint and further scrutiny. He didn’t say anything.
Sinn then pulled a vial from one of his pouches and made sure the group got a good look. Beyond simply being glass, it had a very specific mark on it. A learned Blood mage would recognise it as the fruit of forbidden magic, and by the shape of it, likely served to preserve whatever was contained inside, ”One drop of blood”, he traded the vial for more jamb’ysp, ”or five hairs in these vials. That is the minimum expected.” Inside the bags would be another container with six of these vials, a pair of peculiar leather gloves and a simple envelope.
”All you need to know,” he paused to chew, ”is in there. Play us, and we will know. And so will they.” not once did he smile or raise his voice. The man kept himself unreadable and level-headed. There was no desire to drag this encounter with children.
The students were dismissed barely two minutes after stepping into the boat without being given an opportunity to speak, lest they be shut down by the broker. Once they opened the envelope, they found a folded parchment with only a sketch of a face and a phrase written below it:
The blood of the Lamb, or the Wolf’s pelt.
You are now involved in a very high-risk mission. You will get your chance to interact with Sinn as a reward for completing this quest. Brother Wolf has been known to patrol the following locations: -The Auction House -The Merchant Dormitories -The Workman Quarter You can choose to look for him and employ whatever strategy you wish in order to get your demanded quota. Feel free to employ whatever comes to mind, however be warned that he is an absurdly powerful foe and force isn’t always the answer. Or maybe it is!
It is also known that Team Covenant currently resides in the Grand Cathedral, however further investigation is necessary to know where Brother Wolf/Lamb sleeps.
Velles 5th
Location: Distillery in Crafters’ Quarters - Ersand’Enise Day of the week: Taldes Time: 4:30 HE Characters: Abdel Saqqaf Aziz, Evander @RezonanceV, Khaliun, Leander @Creative Chaos, Leon @Animus, Ymiico @Salsa Verde, Yuliya @Suicharte
On the other side of the face of illegality lurked the most fickle and questionable types that desperately sought out manpower to exact their goals. The Burning Order was not going to benefit from using its name for publicity, even among thugs. It also didn’t have the monetary means to get prize candidates - or at least it pretended that it was the case - leaving space for only those that had a good reason to go after a Sanguinaire. Or the morbidly curious. It was their funeral.
Khaliun was one such person that knew of the Sanguinaire, of the Burning Order and how to deal with them. Naturally, if any bloodsucker hunting were to occur, she would be one of the first to know, and so would Yuliya be informed as well. It wasn’t to say that rumours didn’t spread, as the young but valiant Abdel Saqqaf Aziz of Waking Nightmare made his recent close encounter with such a beast known to the authorities and those around him. It would come to no surprise that he too would attend this wild hunt.
All those that entertained the rumour of a Sanguinaire hunt would eventually know of the meeting spot: A distillery in the Crafters’ Quarters at 4:30 HE. The instigators of this buzz were late, taking at least an hour to attend their supposed “event”, ”لماذا هم بطيئون جدا؟” (What’s taking them?) groaned a restless Abdel, eager to deliver Vashdal’s justice to the monster he had encountered before whilst obliviously glancing toward Yuliya from time to time. A few others had gathered, a couple not even from the school, and waited. Some eventually left, thinking it all a hoax, but eventually their wait would be rewarded.
Two men, both above average in height and wearing matching dark cloaks with their hoods lowered. Their rifles were also very easy to notice on their backs, with the darker skinned one also carrying a longsword on his hip. ”Pardon me, mein Freunde!" an extremely Kerremand man with blonde hair and ginger stubble jovially greeted the group of people in the establishment, ”Precautions, precautions. Can’t have enough, ya?” he beamed toward them all and exaggerated a shrug. ”Yes, thank you for waiting,” this man’s accent wasn’t as thick as the Kerreman’s, but a fine ear could pinpoint an accent from Sakenga, ”what you have heard is true: A Sanguinaire is among us. To ensure the safety of every man, woman and child in the Twin Continents, the Burning Order has, is and will investigate all information on these creatures and cull them.” this one didn’t lack any enthusiasm, but the humour was absent and his posture was stiffer than his laid back partner.
”You may call me Lissanon, and I’ll be happy to answer your questions.” he closed his hands before his abdomen and gave a general glance to all those that had decided to stay, ”Und Ich bin Viktor. Pleasure! I will be joining the hunt with you.” his pearly not-so-whites were flashed to the public. In general, they would explain the basics of a Sanguinaire, their lust for blood and how they “assimilated” power, albeit in somewhat vague terms. Certainly not enough to prepare them for what was to come.
”Если то, что вы сказали, правда, (If what you said is accurate,”) spoke Khaliun as she leaned toward Yuliya with the softest of tones her naturally deep voice could muster, ”это может быть истинным или даже высоким. (it may be a true, or even a high.)” the Tethered gave the same passing look Lissanon had given to the group, ”Если это так, используйте их в качестве корма. Не рискуйте разоблачением. (If that is the case, use them as fodder. Do not risk exposure.)” light steam escaped from the shadows brought by her hood, ”Эти двое не знают, с чем имеют дело. (These two do not know what they are dealing with.)”
5:30 HE
Finally, they were let out, with the simple instruction to patrol the night with forged Lamplighter identification as to bypass curfew. The Century didn’t help, but the lack of direct affiliation to the Order made things easier. Viktor led the hunt, often gathering a little congregation before spreading out.
”Help! I found someone!” Abdel called out, concerned for the recently injured teen girl over the perpetrator. She had been bitten with the telltale signs of a beginner Sanguinaire: Sloppy, visible markings and leaving the victim in the middle of the street in the Workman Quarter near the Queensgate. ”Ya, das a Sanguinaire attack. I have seen this each time.” he tended to the girl’s superficial wound, ”Get her somewhere safe, ya?” he nodded at one of the volunteers to carry the girl.
”Another one, further east.” muttered Khaliun in Avincian, which both Yuliya and Abdel could hear at the very least. Abdel furiously jetted himself with the help of his powerful arcane magic until he found the next victim, an elderly citizen with no real mana-value, ”... это не нормально.” (This isn’t normal.) and again, another hunter called out an unconscious individual, this time a student with a RAS any Sanguinaire would be attracted to, ”This monster must be stopped! فاشدال يحفظهم جميعا بأمان! وتعطيني القوة! (Vashdal keep them safe! Give me Strength!)” Abdel took to the air, only to notice the same pattern Khaliun had.
”This is trap.” remarked Khaliun as she reached out to keep Yuliya back, far less concerned with what the others would do, ”Don’t rush. Don’t overwhelm prey. It will run if it feels in danger.” and then she let go once she had imparted her wisdom, taking to higher altitude too and shadowed her own Sanguinaire.
The body count didn’t climb until the hunters would inevitably find a trail of blood leading into the Proving Grounds. A gate was left conspicuously opened with torches burning strong and ambers flicking about within the tunnels that led to the colosseum itself.
”It’s there.”
You are on the Sanguinaire’s trail, although it seems it WANTS to be found. Feel free to seize this chance or branch off to find other clues if this is just too spooky for you. How you approach this is crucial. Khaliun has hinted that bullrushing with overwhelming force is a great way to get the target to flee, and it is FAST. You are expected to kill this thing to get the reward. Be ready for a very bloody fight if you’re going through with this. Abdel, Viktor and Khaliun will be assisting.
Posts are due Sunday, November 13, however should I get the posts earlier, we can begin the next part of the mission earlier! In both cases, they will likely take place on Discord whether for fights or interactions. For this cycle I expect regular posting (you may collab) to explain how your character got into this, what they do during this introduction (if they have questions in High Stakes I’ll have Lissanon answer them live if needed) and what they’re going to do from now on. If you have any questions, do not hesitate to contact me!
Location: Zarina’s Quarters Day of the week: Taldes Time: 1:40 HE Characters: Kaspar @Wolfieh, Zarina
“So I’ve been thinking, like, being able to replicate the melons would be key here.”
Zarina was sitting at the end of the dining table in her merchant dormitory with the cage containing her recently acquired Blueberry dragon sitting on it and at arm’s length of her. Beside the cage were plain melons commonly found in the market for dirt cheap as the event was coming and many commerces were capitalising on the hype. The little dragon was hiding the makeshift wooden house she had made for him, only making the occasional clicking noises but otherwise quite discreet, “Issue is, you don’t know what they would look like or how the, errr-” she raised her hands next to her head to mimic quotations, “elemelons truly work. How do you think we can go about it? Can’t train these little guys without at least a good replica, after all.”
Kaspar’s eyes were on the small Blueberry dragon as his teammate spoke. He didn’t reply immediately, head tilting in a way that indicated the boy was considering her words despite his silence. Eyes drifting to the melons present, he offered quietly, “The most difficult part is the whole… structure, of a melon. The innards and then the rind and the very outer skin. Making something of different parts, it takes more…finesse.” His hand reached out, palming one of the plain melons and rolling it closer to him. “First, we find someone who knows what the melons are like. Then it’s simply practice.”
Zarina was also eyeing the cage when it was her turn to listen, although the little critter still refused to emerge. A knife was taken from behind the cage and used to cut open one of the melons in half. The presentation of such an easy treat had the blue reptile poke its goofy head out of its humble abode and sniff the nearby treat, “You’re right, we need to know more. Someone who actually did the derby, yeah?” she mused for a moment whilst watching her little avian approach the opened fruit until it could wiggle its head between the thin, metal bars. Mercifully, the Virangishwoman nudged the fruit closer for it to enjoy, and it did with big, wet chomps and rapid chewing, “But before we get any targets, could you replicate this melon you got there? Just a perfect copy, or close enough.” she nodded in Kaspar’s direction with her attention oriented to him as well.
“Who did the derby, or who grows the melons,” he responded, watching as she sliced a melon in half. He reached out, sliding the unused half towards himself and trying to be careful of the juice. His crimson eyes scanned the object, taking in its constitution, and he began to draw heat from the air around him—slower than drawing one of the melons, but he’d need the subjects whole. Focusing, he pulled the cherrywood wand from his vest and began to cast. The progress was slow, but in the end the melon was… more or less correct. A bit sloppier than Kaspar would’ve preferred, the proportions perhaps a bit skewed and the color a touch too grey, but a good start for practicing.
Zarina checked on the process and the results, albeit with her attention alternating between her new pet and Kaspar’s endeavour. The dragon was just too cute to ignore, especially with its wide eyes and fruit slop leaking from its maw with the occasional lick from its iguana-like tongue. When the strange melon came to be, even the little avian was captivated by it and just observed whilst taking a whiff of the different aroma that came from it, “Huh. Looks kinda … Not fresh.” she crossed her arms and let her back sag against her seat, “But I’m no melon expert, he is. How about we let him judge?”
Kaspar nodded, taking the knife Zarina had used earlier. He sliced into his counterfeit melon and found the inside was a little more…wet than he’d been expecting. Not tragically so, but certainly something requiring more practice. The rind was thick, likely within the bounds of normalcy—he was no melon expert either—but pushing the envelope. He slid half the melon to the edge of the cage, and the dragon inside was quick to scamper over, squeezing his head through the bars and sniffing at the melon presented. He took a bite—or several, rapidly—chewed, and swallowed the flesh of the fruit. The little creature did not explode, or keel over dead, or regurgitate his consumed portion. He took a few more bites, pulling his head back through the bars as he swallowed, and simply returned to the treat Zarina had offered.
Kaspar watching, nodding like he expected this outcome. Then he sliced his own half into wedges, brought one to his mouth, and bit in without reservation. He chewed, thoughtfully analyzing his creation, and pushed a wedge towards Zarina in case she wanted to test it as well. “It is not rotten, at least,” the boy spoke as he swallowed. “It is… damp. More than it should be. But it tastes fruit-like, and I would not call it a ‘last resort’ meal.”
Zarina was very hesitant to take a bite after Arlo’s deliberation on the matter, though with Kaspar still living after a bite she went for it, “Eh. You’re right, could be worse.” one bite was enough, as were three gorges of melon for the little critter. She didn’t want him to get fat. The fruits were shoved to the side and the little blue animal retreated in the cage to curiously explore its surroundings now that it was exposed, “So, if we wanna make good fakes, you’re gonna have to practice a lot, right? What about just basic replicas? You know, the plain one-pointers. How easy do you reckon it’ll be to just make loads of them?”
“Once the basic concept is grasped, it should be more reliable,” he offered. “Practice until the day, and the concept should be grasped.” He sighed, mulling something over for a moment. “The most difficult part is having the energy to cast. I am… slower, drawing energies instead of materials. But… we will have plenty of material around to draw from,” the Binder reasoned, raising an eyebrow towards Zarina. “What are the lower bounds on acceptable melon size, do you think?”
“You’ve got five days for the special melons.” she was quick to correct her colleague while adjusting her posture, “I need to be able to train our little ones before the due date. It’s already a tight fit with just under two weeks.” using the same knife that split the melon, she cut a small piece and offered it directly to the blue reptile but from her hand. It was hesitant, at first, but the delectable was just too much to ignore, “Smallest melon would be the smallest you’d find in the market, probably? I feel like you’ll have to be careful with that, since every binder ever probably has had this idea. Might need to be subtle and settle with small margins.”
Kaspar nodded as she spoke. “Then I practice with the special melons for the next five days. After, I will practice with the plain ones.” She had a fair point—he could not be the first Binder to think of this tactic, though he wondered how many of his peers would focus on creating protections rather than using the melons to make more melons. It was a question for another time—if no one else was doing it, it would provide an edge. If others were… He would need to make sure their team didn’t lose that edge. “We may know more by the Derby. But even if it’s simply turning one melon into two, it still doubles our count.”
Zarina squinted, “Wouldn’t that kind of make the melons too small if we go for double?” her crossed arms unfolded with her right hand drumming its fingers over the wooden surface before her, “... Try making a melon that bursts into flames. Just to test.” a second, uncut melon was rolled toward Kaspar. Zarina watched attentively, leaning forward a little.
Kaspar eyed Zarina, unsure what exactly she wanted with a flaming melon, but obliged. Concentrating, he redid his previous attempt with a slight adjustment—lacing miniscule trails of sawdust and powder into the rind and a little deeper into the flesh itself. Chemical magic set alight one of the trails on the interior, and in a few seconds glowing red lines surfaced on the melon, indicating where the materials burned hottest.
Unanticipated, though, was the heat that would build up, trapped in the rind—and the expansion of the material caused by it. After perhaps fifteen seconds of this burning, the first crack of rind could be heard. Near instantaneously, the pressure of the expansion released with a loud pop, exploding the crafted melon into small bits that shot out in all directions, flinging juice and flesh with pure abandon.
Zarina observed with great anticipation Kaspar’s creation. Being a chemical mage herself, she could begin to distinguish oddities in the melon’s composition, although the details eluded her. But this remark troubled the tall female, prompting her to cross her arms again as she continued to observe. It worked, of course, but it was going to pop. The fire itself caused the little Arlo to retreat in his shelter, and Zarina thought it wise to hide the cage under the table as melon-popping was inevitable. With a quick duck, only her hair would be covered in melon-goop, “... You’re cleaning that.” she emerged, hands passing through her hair to get the debris out, “Now I’m kind of thinking, like … How do they put LIGHTNING into a melon? Is it a chemical process, or is it some sort of special magical storage system that unleashes a spell?”
Kaspar required less thought before answering this time, having encountered such concepts in study. “Binding magic can create stored spells in objects to be activated later,” he offered, continuing, “It is typically a little higher-skilled, and triggered by both drawing from the object and speaking a command word. Theoretically, though I’ve not learned personally, a nuanced Binder with perhaps some other specialties could store a spell using this basic method and a different type of trigger. Usually, too, the object is consumed, but… If the melon itself is not the triggering object, or the mage is quite skilled, this might not be the case.”
A lot of words came from Kaspar, giving Zarina time to give her hair a proper scrub and a chemical cleanse, “So what you’re telling me is it’s pretty damn hard and would need some big knowledge.” a third melon was rolled over toward the budding Binder. Yes, she had stocked up for this occasion, “Make one, even if it kind of sucks. Try … A lightning spell, actually. If you need someone to cast one, I can help.” then she paused and tilted her head, “Wait. Isn’t that touching the realm of the not-so-legal binding sort of magic you may have informed me about, hmm?”
Kaspar shrugged, pausing for a moment. “The Promises of Aun-Shune and Shune-Zept are well-established binding magics. The legality would likely be much more tied to the stored spell itself.” As he spoke, he grasped the melon and began to focus, trying to tie in the capability for holding a spell. Nodding towards Zarina, he indicated her turn to cast her choice of lightning spell into the target.
At first Zarina seemed just about ready to unleash a flurry of electricity from her fingers but she quickly snapped out of her delusion, “Okay, one sec.” she got off her seat and went to seize her prized obsidian shamshir, Il-Kabus, and began to run her digits through the flat surface of the blade, “Yeah, uhm, be ready. This is lightning after all.” she warned before wordlessly thrusting her blade in Kaspar’s direction, causing a weak bolt of electricity to lunge and strike whatever was in its way. It definitely wasn’t enough to critically hurt anything, but failure could lead to burns and a toasted melon!
Kaspar shifted so he wasn’t between the melon and the dark blade as lightning emitted from it, striking the melon directly. A bit of the energy arced off, unable to be held by his spell, and left small singes in the wood of the table. One found its home in the gold ring on his left hand, something he had not had the foresight to remove. The shock was minor, though the skin beneath was somewhat branded and the boy exhaled sharply at the pain. Satisfied that all the energy was contained, he pulled his hands back and quietly twisted off the still-hot jewellery, setting it on the table and sparing only a short glance to the circle of red on his hand. Just a minor burn, not properly cooked—something that wouldn’t be difficult to fix.
Zarina blinked at what she was seeing. The poor lad had burnt himself doing this operation and she hadn’t even gone full force, “Okay, I’ll admit, maybe lightning was a bit ambitious as a first attempt.” she raised her hands in concession after having dropped her catalyst onto her mistreated table.
He gave the melon a moment to settle, this time having the intelligence to undo the gold necklace that rested just below his throat. Satisfied that he was less likely to be roasted now, the boy reached out, touching the melon, and drew a little. “Gå, melon,” he spoke in Eskandish. He felt the electricity creep up his skin, markedly less powerful than it had been. Like static, the hairs along his arm prickled and raised, expending the spell Zarina had cast, but… weaker. Brows furrowing, the boy concluded that his magical container—in whatever capacity it existed was simply too small or too porous. More work would be needed.
Zarina’s focus was on the melon itself: What did it smell like? Was it deformed? Overcooked? It was important to get it right, so as to keep the smell of a melon but also keep the energy of a spell within to make it more alluring to creatures that also drew energy. “At least it didn’t blow up this time.” she remarked, walking over to Kaspar’s side of the table to get a closer look of the fruit, “... Because that’s a two thousand-pointer, my dude.” she gave a congratulatory tap onto the binder’s shoulder. He had made a good first attempt, after all.
Kaspar nodded in agreement with his observations, a quick glance toward the hand on his shoulder before refocusing on the deformed melon. “It would perhaps be better to make the vessel a small object on or in the melon, or a thin coating of something. Less likely to damage the melon in the process. I… do not know if they were accept counterfeit melons of a higher point variety, but when we obtain any… I will be sure to leave them untouched, just in case.”
“I heard there was something like that, actually. A thing they keep inside to recognize some melons.” Zarina added to Kaspar’s proposal, essentially agreeing with him, “I do think it’s best we stay cautious. The dragons,” she peered down at the cage, with Arlo only sporadically peeping out, “will handle the bigger values. You will be our fallback with the commons, plus a potential decoy for other teams. We should maybe even preemptively make some with some intel, scatter them and make sure their smell is something the dragons want to avoid.” she smirked, raising one leg over the other.
“Will you be okay, love?” she nudged her chin toward the lad’s hand, taking notice of his wound, “Hate to see you beat up before the trial even begins!”
The hour was used as efficiently as possible when we were speaking of teens and language barriers. Zarina was consistently the one to blather on and let others in on the plan while Olga did her best to unify the ideas with her own team’s strategies with Kol serving as translator for more complex formulation. Yuliya was an important, unifying figure, and yet she would be absent for a time, leaving the squads to find common ground on their own.
“Alright, that’s how we’ll divide ourselves. Olga, Kaspar, Vieri and Khaliun will man the house,” the Virangishwoman’s index then pointed at Jomurr, “You’ll have your red and speedy dragons so you’ll be our scout along with …” she grinned as she saw Kikimoras, “With this handsome fella.” this earned her an enthusiastic “Bep” along with Anna’s happy giggles with simple one-word replies. “I’ll go with Vasily with two three dragons, Yuliya and Kol can take the last two, yeah? Good.” she clapped her hands together just as the missing duo returned.
“It’s showtime. Look alive. Remember, the big goal is to get points, not collect all the shiny ones. We can easily make the top if we remember that.” Zarina announced just as they began to go at it, with her dragons already catching wind of a rare melon nearby, “Of course, get the rare ones if you can!”
The first big fight of team Afraval would be with team Colloy over the earth elemelon. A fight where they’d end with Colloy securing it, but a curious interloper named Penny seizing the opportunity presented. A chaotic battle ensued with Marljin nearly escaping with the melon for herself and Vasily barely catching her. However, a wave of cold hit both of them hard. A tall figure wearing a parka picked up the Eskandish runner and casually hurled her to the lake after claiming the melon. Vasily froze and just watched the all-powerful being grin in his direction.
"Wanna make a deal?”
A lot had happened between losing the Supreme and narrowly missing out on the earth melon, and after retreating to the Afraval home for the remainder of the third hour, Zarina emerged with a determined look. There were no dragons with her - they needed some rest after all the mess they've been through - and she was off to search for something that definitely wasn't a melon. Scouting the walls of Ersand'Enise, she sought out a being that stood out among even among the Gods that walked this land. His chilling aura was impossible to miss, and soon she would attempt to be granted an audience with the Ice King himself.
It took Zarina an entire half hour to find him. He had covered an entire section of the wall in frost, but it had been outside and, strangely, there did not appear to be signs of an energy draw. He sat there, perfectly still as she drew closer, making no secret of her approach. With startling suddenness, he turned, smiling with his wide wide mouth and perfect white teeth. His eyes, where they peeked out from under his hair, were upside-down crescents. "Been waitin' for you,” he said, voice disarmingly casual.
It was so cold and yet the sun was still up, coating Zarina with what was supposed to be its warmth. Luckily, she could still draw from it and generate her own warmth, but still, it wasn’t the most pleasant experience for a Virangish. Soon, she found him, as tall and monstrous as she remembered him. That smile in particular - It just didn’t seem quite human. Still, there was a big difference between her demeanour and Vasily’s. She did not falter or recoil into defensive postures, and instead set her hands on her hips as she tilted her head up to stare the parka-man right at the near-lidded eyes, “Really? That’s … I want to say weird, but I guess some girls would find that charming.” she replied, returning a cheeky grin to the frosted enigma.
“I just heard of your deal with my Vossoriyan Colleague.” she started, peering over toward the direction of the city where her home base was, “Little shits doing you wrong, and you’re willing to give up a melon to get back at them.” she chuckled, “And I thought I had a bad temper.”
"Justice,” he practically hissed, "not 'temper'. Justice.” His smile fell away and he looked at her with his wide blue eyes. "This world is pretty short on that, I think.” There was an uncertain certainty in his voice. "Now, you're not here 'cause you wanna chat.” The smile was small and toothy now, and he seemed like some great cold cat looking for a mouse. "So, if I'm the devil, what's your deal?” His eyes flicked out over the city with a brief flash of eagerness.
Justice. Zarina did not expect that at all. This caught her enough off her guard that she was left blinking a few times in reaction, "I can't say I disagree." she replied back, turning her head again to face the city as he did, though she didn't share the eagerness. Not yet anyway. "Like you, I- My team and I have been wronged." she said with confidence, "Strong-armed by people with far too much power, over the flimsiest of pretexts. Seriously, one tried to douse me in chemicals over a practical joke." she scoffed, "I want to level the playing field. And make a point that neither I, nor my team, are to be fucked with." she then turned her head back to the titan a few meters away from her, "So, I came to ask you for help. The same way you helped my friend. Which would involve kicking this unholy alliance hoarding the supreme melon down a notch." she nudged her chin forward, facial expression neutral and lips pursed to dampen them after being exposed to the cold air, "And what does the devil want in return? More assholes put in their place?"
The boy, a peer in age and, while tall, not as imposing as his moniker might have made him out to be, still exuded... something. He gazed intently at the city, his eyes pausing on where a dozen future leaders had battled ferociously for a fruit some forty minutes earlier. It was so funny! Inexplicably, it made him start laughing. He laughed and laughed, though it was not hysterical, he did not double over. He just... kept laughing. "Sorry,” he announced, smiling the girl's way. "I had a thought. That was all.” His eyes were slitlike again in his amusement.
"Anyhow, the devil wants you to flip a coin.” He produced one in his palm. Both sides were the same. "Pick,” he said, taking her hand gently and placing it in her palm. "Heads or tails.”
Zarina was just staring at the hysterical lad not too far from her. At some point she even felt almost obligated to force a giggle. Thankfully that eventually stopped and she could actually let out a genuine titter, "All good."
With her hand taken, her heart actually skipped a beat. There was still something unnerving about this individual, even if in the end his demeanour didn't suggest any sort of hostility. The coin was held between her index and major fingers, only to notice a lack of differing sides, "Huh." she cocked a brow with a playful smirk, "Alright I'm game, heads." and then she flipped it, palm flat to then catch it.
Predictably, it landed on... heads. The Ice King tilted his head to one side. "You knew it would land on heads,” he replied thoughtfully. "Why'd you go along with the farce?”
Zarina kept the coin in her hand, letting it flip between her fingers playfully as her eyes shifted between it and the Ice King, "I asked what the Devil wanted in return. And the Devil said he wanted me to flip a coin and pick a side." she shrugged, "I obliged. You trusted my associate with the melon, I'll trust you'll deliver your side of the deal if I play along." she smirked playfully once more, "Can't make these sorts of deals without being good faith actors, yeah?"
"But if I'm to be fully honest," she closed her hand around the coin, "I was just super curious to see where this would lead, Ice King. Do your friends call you that too?"
He merely grinned at her question. His eyes met hers briefly with a tilt of his head, but there was no answer. Wind stirred the lick of yellowish hair that stuck out from his parka and he turned back to face the city, eyes roving across it. "I'll see justice done,” he decided. "The justice that I ask for in return is simple and absolute, as all justice is: the next person you encounter under bondage, you will free them, no matter who they are or what the cost. Do you agree?”
Zarina chuckled and nodded at the lack of response from the Ice King. It was to be expected, and so she turned her attention to Ersand'Enise as well with her idle hand pressed to the frosted stone before her. She wondered what could pass through such a peculiar being's mind when he so consistently watched over the city. Then came the cost, and one that had Zarina's mind running. Slavery, indenture servitude - A normalcy in her life, and yet now a touchy subject that ushered in the ugly of the Refuge mixed with the rationalizations inherent to her origins. Was this deal worth the cost? Zarina was not brilliant enough to consider all the facets here, but in the end she had to give an answer.
"Yes. I agree." she turned her head to face his. No more cheeky smiles, the contract was signed and she will have to deliver, one day. No matter the cost.
He held out his hand, smile gone, and there was not so much as an inkling of mirth or, for a moment, even so much as movement. Within his great jacket, one could not even see his chest rise or fall, though his breath let a frosty sort of steam. "I know which teams you want me to hurt,” he stated. "Who among them first?”
Zarina exhaled from her nose and contemplated the question, "We can start with the team that wronged me. The one with the four eyes." she chose, "No need to, well, hurt them." she clarified, the recent thoughts having had a bit of an effect of her volatile mood, "Ass kicking without rule breaking." she felt a strange need to clarify that, "The next with the supreme ..." she paused for a moment, and then chuckled to herself, "I actually have an idea."
"Speak,” he commanded. "I am hearing.”
She gestured for him to come closer, and she leaned in to whisper, as if greater beings could hear them. Given who she was talking to, this may not be all that farfetched.
The Ice King planted a kiss on her forehead, out of nowhere. It was... cold, as one might expect. Then he backed away, smiling. "JUSTICE,” he agreed, gathering a fantastic amount of energy and leaping free. He rocketed away into the distance.
Zarina blinked. This definitely caught her off-guard. But then came the final salute, which prompted her to shake her head in laughter, "What's with me and these crazy, crazy superhumans." maybe she was developing a type.
On a bench near the Cathedral, Zarina was peacefully witnessing the upcoming chaos that the frosted calamity was to usher in. One leg over the other, Zeno Bucks cup in hand and little snowflakes sticking to her hair from the King's arrival, it looked as though she had no worry burdening her at this point, "Ahhh, hot or cold, Justice sure tastes kinda good. Or is that revenge? Oh well.'' She sipped some of her hot café au lait and continued to watch while eyeing the Firebrand abode from time to time. The Afraval house had the loose order to keep tight security, although they were their own individuals and could do what they thought was right.
Marching down past the side of the Cathedral was a squad of eeaiko marching, their arms pumping up and down as they called cadence as they marched in Avincian, believe it or not.
”We like melon, we like gold!" The five of them chanted in unison but Yaufin was at the head of the small column leading the other four while his trusty companion Eek bounced around happily on all six of his appendages.
Yaufin continued with the verse solo, "Eeaiko are on the roam!" The five joined together and repeated, ”Eeaiko are on the roam!" They continued as they turned the corner and marched. ”We want your melon, we want your gold!" "Better be smart or be scold!"
Eek, having been the team's mascot and well nose of the team had caught something interesting in his senses just ahead. A human that reeked of an interesting smell of coffee and perfume. He bound on all six legs in a sprint, long tongue dangling out of its open mouth, smelling the trail in the air that led right to Zarina. Eek naturally huffed and puffed through his mouth while his tongue darted around, pulling in closer to the coffee with great interest, even willing to hop up his frontal half up on Zarina to get closer!
What was this amusing little fanfare playing behind the sounds of destruction and chaos? It was upbeat and resonated so well with the feelings that ran through Zarina as she witnessed Justice be delivered in all its cold ruthlessness. Her attention deviated from the two star hours of the hour and focused on the group of fish people she had only noticed in passing. But now they were here and quite the sight to behold - And a tune to admire too! The way she had turned her head left a consistent blindspot for Eek to capitalise on Zarina's intrigue.
"Oh my!" she wasn't quite startled as the aquatic beast wasn't exactly being discreet, but a little gasp of excited me escaped her when she saw that thing, "Who. Is. THIS handsome lad?!" she made sure to keep the coffee at a distance while the shrimp dog attempted to hop onto her with at least a couple of his limbs, "Hey, hey now!" she presented her index finger right before his eyes and took on a tone of authority, "If you wanna taste, you gotta be a good boy now!"
Yaufin and the rest of the team came to a halt as Eek attacked a poor meeiko. "Eek! Hakkani wah!" He hollered running over to where Zarina was. Eek had gotten his command and eased off, plopping down in a laying positon, curling his limbs right next to himself much like a cat would. He watched with a vested interest as Yaufin finally caught up. "Sorry you have no melon." He spoke in the meeiko language. "We train Eek to be better than that." He explained before turning to his shrimpy companion and blew air through his teeth, making a hissed whistling sound. An eeaiko scolding sound which Eek understood, lowering his head but not taking his eyes off of the coffee Zarina had.
Zarina perked up at the call made by the Eeiako owners, "Eh, no worries. First time I see an animal liking coffee, though." she chuckled whilst peering down at the submissive beast, "I guess you guys don't get much of that where you're from?" she took another quick sip from her cup before presenting the beverage to Yaufin, "Feel free to try. On me." she flashed a friendly smile to the fish person, "I also trained a few creatures to sniff melons. Very hard thing to do."
Yaufin and the others eyed the hot beverage, heads turning and tilting in interest. He finally took the offered cup and took a sip. "Lak!" He exclaimed, shaking his head while passing the cup to Tiakah without a second thought. Tiakah took a sip and made a similar sound although she didn't shake her head. She passed it Memaru who then did the same and so forth until Wenkak handed it back to Zarina.
"So much hot. Taste like something we know. Better ice cold." Yaufin spoke, not just to Zarina but to the others as well. They five of them all collectively sounds, different, but they all sounded in agreement. "What is?" Memaru being the most curious about what they just drank.
"Coffee, with milk." she answered plainly after gauging the responses. Zarina actually seemed amused by their reactions, as if she expected it. Most people didn't like coffee the first time around. She would then lower her cup and shake it a little to get Eek's attention, "Hey, Eek," she probably didn't pronounce it perfectly, "want some?" she held the cup as to not let it tip over if he did taste it, "Cold coffee ... Maybe if it was made very cold, not just lukewarm, it could maybe be good, yeah?" she pursed her lips and nodded at the thought, "Like a sort of dessert, you think?"
"Korffee" "Koffee" "Cawfee" They all tried the new meeiko word to see how it sounded. They were all learned in meeiko speak since no meeiko could speak eeaiko fluently... Their language relied on too many clicks and unique vocalizations so it was much easier for the more friendly eeaiko communities to just learn meeiko speech.
"Ice coffee." Memaru spoke, bowing up and down in an exaggerated nod. She gasped suddenly and the team looked at her. "Takats dip in ice coffee." The team all gasped and began bowing up and down in a similar exaggerated nod. "Coffee takat may be good!" Yaufin added and the team continued to nod.
Meanwhile Eek perked up and shot his tongue into the offered cup hastily and due to the small tongue, felt it was too hot and instantly retreated. He gurgled twice, spurring the offered drink with a turned head.
Too hot for the doggy too. Zarina sighed and opted to exact the innovative idea of just freezing the stuff, or at least getting it cold enough. "Takat? What's that?" she inquired, a bit mesmerized by the near-synchronized choreography of nods going on here. It got to the point where it was almost contagious and Zarina found herself caught in the hysteria, "Maybe this is better? I made it colder." she offered up the drink, "So, wait, you guys actually live in the water?"
They turned to Memaru when Zarina asked the question as she had brought it up and an explanation was required. That was typical in eeaiko culture. "Takat is good. We make together with sugar and sweet. Big and stretchy!" Memaru threw her arms out wide, shaking them before snapping together like the was a glob of gum that pulled them back together. "Eeaiko grab and pull to eat."
The offering for colder coffee had caught their interest. They passed it around although this time each chirped ”Hah!" before going back to a few exaggerated nods in agreement. They liked it.
"We live with water." Wikooroh replied after taking his drink and offering it back to Zarina.
Very little of the drink was left, so it would be offered to Eek as consolation for the likely stinging tongue, "Ahhh, with sugar, huh?" an opportunity, "I'd love to try Takat, actually. Maybe in exchange for ... Maybe a Brioche?" she smirked knowingly.
"Eek is very cute and well behaved, by the way!" she got quite chipper when focusing on the animal, "Is he also typical of where you're from? He does look funny to us, but his personality is just so ... Radiant~"
"Breeo?" "Breeoak?" "Bree...?" They tried that word but with less success. "We trade?" Tiakah piped up, showing interest as she had scored quite a few interesting fabrics. Pretty fabrics. Shiny fabrics. Rare though they were. "You give us try of Bree-oo-ke. We give you try of Takat. If we like. We trade."
Eek considered the offered cup. His feathered flaps, twitching as he brought his full nose up to the cup. He couldn't fit his muzzle in but he was close enough to smell and feel if there was heat. There wasn't and he stuck his tongue in swirling it around before withdrawing. He shook his head, remaining uninterested.
"Eek is good." Yaufin began to explain. Eek perked up, his tail flapping up and down patting the ground, believing something good was coming for him. "Eek fastest swimmer. Eek get most food. Eek protect kelp. Good Eek." Yaufin reached down to tickle his feathered flaps with Eek responding with a low-pitched clicks, his eyes closed.
Zarina reached for her messenger bag and ruffled through a few items until she found a leather pouch containing one small slice of brioche remaining. The smell was still strong with a few crumbs falling onto the pavement and Zarina's lap, "Here you go, courtesy of Zeno Bucks~" she flashed a smile as the sweet bread was given.
The cup was then put away in her bag once emptied and she then adjusted her posture as the Eeiako assessed the value of her treat, "Ahhh, so he protects your crops?" she inquired, quite interested. Her hand reached out, hesitant at first, toward Eek, "May I?" she asked, clearly eager to give some scritches to the critter, although that beak looked a little intimidating.
"Zeno Boocks." "Zeno Baucks." "Zeno Buhcks." They all tried the new word on their mouth, finding it rather easy to say. They took the slice of brioche and carefully divided it among themselves, and all ate it. ”Hah! Hah!" They all huffed, seemingly pleased. "Like Takat. Sweet. But not Takat. Soft." Memaru commented and all the eeaiko nodded vigorously.
Yaufin gestured towards Eek, who looked around expectedly between the two. "Yes. You can. Soft touches." He advised and left Zarina the chance to 'pet' the critter as it were. Eeks head tilted, watching Zarina expectedly.
A bit eager, Zarina reached out toward Eek and began to give very light scritches onto the critter's 'ear'. The texture was unique to say the least and the smell far more noticeable from up close and without coffee steam to help mask it, "Who's a good boy? Mmmm?" but it did little to deter this animal lover. And soon, her own natural gift when it came to gaining their favor began to target Eek.
"So, is it good enough for me to try a Takat?" she smiled and tilted her head expectantly, "Oh, and ... Where do you find an Eek, actually?"
Eek remained still, lowly clicking from the attention to really the only externally sensitive part of the armored animal.
"We bring no Takat." Memaru responded though she looked to be considering something. "We can make. Need right material. You part of team. We all make Takat. Big Takat. Good?" The eeaiko all nodded, even looking excited to have a project and to make Takat at that. They all turned to the meeiko, watching her expectantly, unsure as they have never worked with a meeiko before.
The scritches continued, and Zarina tried to get a little creative with the animal. Eventually she got off the bench and just crouched to give both ears an equal amount of affection, "Ooohhhh, you like that, don'tcha bud? Yes, yes, yes!" silly faces ensued.
"Make it together, huh? That's ..." she paused for a moment and then grinned a toothy smile, "An amazing idea, actually. Would you be fine if I brought maybe a friend along, for that? She is good with making delicious things!"
"Friend? Yes bring. All work together. Eeaiko way." They all nodded but it occurred to Yaufin that they had other things to do. Like finding melons. "Come new day. We make Takat. Here." He pointed to this spot and then turned to start speaking in his native language to the others. They all moved away but not without a ”KuuKuu'' offered in their native tongue, collectively as a farewell.
"Eek. Takkan!" Yaufin snapped and Eek hurried off to rejoin his master by his side. He cleared his throat and began to march with the others following in step. ”Better hide your melons because we come to play." "Better hide your melons because we come to play." "Eeaiko are here to stay!"
”We should just grab the melons from the neighbours, I don’t get this peace.” Vasily scoffed at Vossoriyan as he just finished discussing a sort of union with Ayla under Zarina’s orders, ”They have TWO elemelons. You could probably grab them, Kha.” Khaliun was sitting quietly by him, locking onto a strange energy that had been bothering her for a while. She did not appear interested in entertaining the de factoleader's strategic perspective.
The silence got awkward for the nervous thunderchild, and at some point he’d make what appeared to be a random observation, ”That girl from Vossoriya,” Khaliun perked up just a tad, ”it’s strange that she is here. Few ever leave home, even for this school.” he shook his head, and speaking of the devil, Yuliya came out from the back yard and performed a brief lookout, ”When I think about it … I remember that first name. And those eyes.” Khaliun’s hand emerged from the cloak, fingers idly wiggling in little waves as if she was about to pick something up, ”And with you being put on our team just last month- Is that why you chose this te-” Vasily found it very difficult to breathe, ”Kha-li …”
”When things are uncertain and the stakes high, you always keep your piece, Gredenko.” a hush voice came from under the hood. Khaliun’s fingers hooked, as if she was trying to tightly grasp something on her palm, ”And yet you decide to break silence now of all times.” the thunderchild couldn’t utter a word. His hands seized his throat, although the lock Khaliun had on him was purely internal. He tried to draw at capacity, but each time his energy levels were too high, his body would violently jerk in place to interrupt his focus, ”Olga won’t protect you from me. Nor will I hold back for the sake of this game, Gredenko.”
Vasily was released, leaving him in a coughing fit and a very sore throat, ”Do yourself a favour and avoid even looking at her from this point forward.” she turned to look down at the curled up male Vossoriyan, ”Utter one word even alluding to her family, and I will be taking permanent action.” her still hooked fingers suddenly balled into a fist, prompting a random flower pot in parade street to burst, ”Do you understand?”
Vasily nodded frantically, with the same look he had given to the Ice King once the terms were set. A minute later, Khaliun and Yuliya would be tracing the energy signature, right toward Benedetto …
Justice.
Zarina wanted to see what this Justice, ushered in by a force of nature wearing the body of a boy, would look like. The impression he had left on had completely changed her priorities. It did not seem like she cared about the supreme itself, but rather what would happen once the Ice King would find it. Trypano was stalling, the team was anxiously waiting outside. Something was off, but tunnel vision was strong in this crucial moment.
Benny and Jocasta were long gone, nothing could stop the Ice King as he walked unobstructed in the Mozaru home. “Here.” she called out, and the disappointed Ice King with the plain melons in hand manifested himself at the back of the house where Zarina stood. Just a half-minute remained. It was as if time was still. The Virangish girl stared in anticipation at the calamity’s reaching for what was believed to be a hidden melon. But just as he reached down, a familiar voice called out.
Carmillia stepped onto the lawn, along with Dante. The former held a single terramelon in her hands, smiling beatifically. Then, the Ice King was there. He placed his hands around the melon. "Justice," he said
In the distance was Silas. "It's her!" he shouted. "She has the supreme!"
Zarina, panicked, dashed toward the voice that called out, "Justice!" she huffed! Words echoed in her mind as she exerted herself as much as she could to witness the end. That single phrase she whispered to this God among men just over an hour prior.
“Do what you think is just.”
The Tall, frosty figure looked Silas' way. He nodded. He looked Zarina's way, meeting her eyes. He nodded. "Strength alone does not win this game."
He took the melon from her hands. There was nothing that she could realistically do.
He stood there as the bells began to chime.
Zarina simply nodded. She understood. "If that is what you see as just." she approached the King and then flashed a wink at Carmillia, "Good game." Then, she struck a quick, dramatic pose, "Justice!"
Trypano walks out onto the lawn, small bruise on her cheek and a cup of coffee in her hands. "Care to stay for a cup?" She wore the rare small smile. Zarina turned on her heel and clapped her hands together as she faced Trypano, "Me?" Trypano gave a nod. She meant the Ice King but back in the kitchen was a couple more cups for who remained. With that, she handed over the cup to Zarina. "Of course. As well as anyone else, if we're staying the moment?"
Yuliya breathed once more. She wanted more.. but a moment of clarity struck her as the bells begun to chime. She realized she was in front of others. She returned her hearing, and let out an awkward but obviously bitter laugh, attempting to brush off the previously violent interaction. She shouted in response to Zazzy from the lawn.
"Justice."
Zarina got giddy, "Oh my, don't miiiiiind if I do!" she rushed in, although not before turning to look over at the Ice King. She actually turned back briefly and approached him, "I've uh, got your coin, by the way." she presented the coin between her index and thumb, both faces still the same.
The Ice King smiled. "Strength alone is not Justice." He pressed his right hand to his heart and took the coin with his left. Then, he paused, both his hand and hers on it. "Actually," he said, "you keep it." He smiled. "Good luck in the coming trials."
-Zarina and Kaspar worked to understand how the melons worked to get an edge and train the dragons prior to the Derby.
-Team Pravda and Team Sunbeam make their plans known and get into some trouble for the earth melon, leading to an encounter with the Ice King and a deal to be made with him for the melon.
-Zarina meets with the Ice King to make a deal with him as Vasily spills the beans on the deal. She wants team Luna to be messed with a bit, and leaves the fate of the supreme a secret until the very end. In exchange, she must free the next person she meets in bondage.
-Zarina meets the coastal guardians, and their mascot Eek! They promise to meet again to make their famous delicacy known as ‘Takat’ in exchange for some brioche.
-Khaliun threatens Vasily as he pieces together that Yuliya is the princess. There is no nuance here, she will kill him if he speaks a word of it.
-The Ice King deems it just to let team Mozaru have the melon, and it was the secret request from Zarina that he decides the Justice today. It ends on a happy note!
My first day with the little blueberry. What a mess! I thought the blue ones were supposed to be cute and obedient. But then I forgot this was a wild creature. Damn! This is going to be harder than I thought, especially with all the babysitting I’ll be doing with the other ones on the team so I can train them all. This little one has been hiding the whole time in the little house I made for him, and when I open the cage, he cheeses it! Clearly, this isn’t love at first sight!!! New strategy: He’s gonna only eat when I’m around with the cage open. That’s how I got that stray cat to like me enough once. I really liked that cat. Mother didn’t. I was thinking of a name for a while. I gave up on a meaning, just want something that sounds nice. So, why not Arlo? It just fits the blue colour. Also, he’s just SO CUTE!!!!!
The beginnings went alright. Every afternoon I’d pick up the dragons to supervise and train. The blues were surprisingly easy to handle! Tactically placed scritches did the trick once they got comfy with me being around. The Grape was feisty, but easily pacified with food. Nearly bit my finger off. Not as clever and cute as the blues, but also such an easy baby. The reds can suck my ass. Fuck these fat shits. Sometimes they’re a-okay with tummy rubs, other times I need a binder for my arm! And I’ve had them steal from my kitchen more than once! Assholes. It’s gonna take FOREVER for me to get this going anywhere. I need something extra, like that thing we’re learning at school. What’s it called again? Oh yeah- Magic! Thank the Six for Sienna Afraval, got me in a good spot to actually learn the stuff. I wonder what bottle I should bring next time …
Assani 19th
Location: Sienna Afraval’s Home Day of the week: Lepdes Time: 3:30 HO Characters: Zeno Afraval @Force and Fury, Zarina
The week following the events of the St. Agustin Refuge had left Zarina in a slight crisis of identity - one she had kept under wraps without arousing any suspicions. She had a slight understanding of her situation, that the magic she used resembled something that ran commonly in her family and yet the only examples she truly had of it weren’t enviable. Guidance was necessary and pride wasn’t going to get in the way, although she was careful to ensure her colleagues wouldn’t be around when she’d come by her Zeno’s residence for some orientation.
As usual, the door was unlocked for any of Sienna Afraval’s students to step in and conduct academic work with her supervision. It wasn’t uncommon for students to hang out - usually after doing some actual work - making it a sort of common room after a long study day. Instead of taking a seat, the Virangish teen stood stiff at the centre of the study room, awaiting her teacher’s acknowledgement of her presence. She was wearing a dark, trumpet-sleeve satin dress with her hair tied and her face mildly caked in makeup. Over her left, flexed arm was a Virangish handbag, big enough to hold a couple of large and round objects.
“I suppose I could let you keep doing your best statue impression for a little longer,” the zeno addressed her after a little while, not yet looking up from her work. “You fairly bleed discomfort into your surroundings, Zarina.” Now, she finally twisted to regard her student. “What can I help you with?”
“Sitting and crunching numbers all morning will get me to do that, yeah.” Zarina answered with a titter, her posture relaxing a little now that her teacher addressed her, “Well, Ms. Afraval,” she began to pace toward the nearest surface where she could post her bag and then leaned her shoulder against a wall, arms crossed, “I’m afraid I’m in a bit of an academic orientation conundrum. I was hoping you could help enlighten me.” her voice lacked the usual sarcastic or playful intonations she’d have even with authority figures. It was all to-the-point, “It involves my initial choice of magic schools. Recent events have brought me to believe I should reconsider them.”
Sienna scowled. “You want to switch your courses now? This far into the year?”
“Yes.” Zarina answered bluntly, “I’m not afraid of the workload.”
“I’m inclined to approve it,” the Zeno replied after a quiet moment, “but ‘inclined’ doesn’t mean ‘yes’.” She forestalled any premature celebration. “It’s a lot of work and, though I know you can handle it, I would like to know why.” It was clear that Zarina now had the Torragonese’s full and undivided attention.
Zarina considered her words carefully, for she wasn’t exactly known for her silver tongue. Her lower jaw shifted side to side and her gaze peered downwards, “Uhm, how to explain it …” her eyes return to her teacher’s form, “I’m fairly certain I’ve been mistaking my questionable binding skills for something else.” she admitted, bracing herself for remarks, “But I’ve come to realise I’m actually not too bad at what I’ve been doing anyway. So … Why not explore it further?”
“Mmm,” murmured Sienna, crossing and then uncrossing her legs. “Mistaking Chemical for Binding, right?” She quirked an eyebrow. “You got me.” Zarina raised her hands in surrender.
“It’s funny,” the zeno snorted, “they specifically told us to watch out for that one during training. Your first Zeno should’ve caught it, to be honest.” She pursed her lips disapprovingly. “Who were you with again?”
“Maybe I’m just that good at it.” Zarina lowered her hands to cross them. She smiled at her teacher, and a shit-eating grin it was, “Uhm, it was that super chill one - Born-on-Solstice. Or Sunny. I guess. She was nice.”
“Hah!” barked Sienna. “Should’ve figured.” She smiled knowingly and rolled her eyes. “Sunny’s a lovely person and a damned good mage, but maybe not the sort of person who knows how to say ‘no’.” She let out a giggle. “Her sister and I - that’s Luna - always used to try to get her to say it when we were biros.” The zeno was wearing a shit-eating grin of her own. “Part of it was the language barrier - she was still new here - but she always used to say ‘not yes’.” There was another giggle. “Oh Dami, I have stories. One time, when I was a bit down, she told me to ‘find your inner butterfly’. Great at making you feel better; terrible at real advice.”
Oh fun, stories and good moods, Zarina was happy to see where this was going. So much so she slowly slithered into the comfort of the couch her colleagues would usually sit on to study together. It was comfortable, very soft, probably terrible for the back, “Y’know, you gotta keep these friends close. The feel good ones. A lot are taken for granted, because you’re right, it’s all just feelings talk.” she could use some wine right now, “But fu- ahem, Eshi, am I sick of people trying to explain things logically when I feel like shit. I just wanna be told it’s all gonna cool, embrace your inner pink. Or something.” she snorted, “Luna’s the one that’s a tad scary-looking, right?”
“It was a phase,” Sienna sighed, lips closing into a petite smirk. “She thought it’d make her look cool and mysterious and - not gonna lie - it kinda did. Thing is,” she continued, “She became so well-known for it that when she tried to stop wearing the makeup, nobody knew who she was.” She smiled at the memory. “Now she just takes it off when she doesn’t wanna wear her ‘teacher’ hat. Anyways,” Zeno Afraval stood and straightened her dress a little bit. “You wanna have some wine and cheese, I’m game, but let’s do your forms first. You’ve got them, right?”
“Yep.” right on cue, Zarina whipped out the dossier with all the information of her enrollment and new forms to go with them. It did cost more than she’d expected. With a little bit of Kinetic magic, she had the whole thing drift over to Afraval, “So you had a goodie two-shoes, happy-go-lucky type, and a mysterious edge-dark type. What fun niche did you fill, Ms. Afraval?” she smirked, head tilted ever so slightly to the left.
“Look in the mirror, sweet cakes.” She grinned. “Now, think you can hold it still in midair while I sign?” She raised an eyebrow challengingly. “Wouldn’t want me to mess up the ol’ seal of Afraval, wouldja?”
Grinning confidently at the challenge literally dangled before her, Zarina straightened her sitting posture and pointed both index and major fingers from her right hand to keep the document steady. Jocasta’s teachings were being applied, albeit on a far lighter specimen with little external influences such as vertigo - Although there was some pressure to be felt, and it couldn’t be half-assed, “What you’re saying, as I look in the mirror, is that you also managed to mess up Binding and Chemical? Heh.”
“Only two schools I never cared about, hun.” She put the finishing touches on the paperwork. “Nice gravity looping by the way. Good thing you’re in Kinetic too. Now, this should handle it.” She gathered the forms up and handed them back. Leaning forward, she squinted outside. “Balthazar’s open for about another half-hour, I’m guessing. Hurry, and you might be able to make it.”
“Thanks.” Zarina stored the new documents back into her overcrowded bag and stood up, “Want me to stop by the cheesemaker and nab some goodies? And by goodies I mean cheap wine.” she closed her handbag and glanced at her Zeno, expecting an answer.
“Sweetheart,” Sienna replied, posting a hand on her hip. “Look who you’re talking to. I don’t do cheap wine.” Her coinpurse floated over and a magus removed itself. She was so approachable that it was sometimes easy to forget that Afraval was the royal house of Torragon, even if she was but a distant branch on that mighty tree. “Go get something respectable.” The coin sailed through the air and landed in Zarina’s outstretched palm. “Now don’t just stand there lookin’ at me.”
“Well damn.” she blurted out at the mere sight of a magus floating about. She had seen priceless pearls and hills of scales that could match this value easily, and yet it was always surprising to see folks casually whip out such values. She caught the coin and dexterously let it flip between her fingers, “Top shelf, got it. Red? White?” as she placed these options she was already power walking out, essentially threatening a potential rosé if the Zeno didn’t decide.
“Get us a nice Verdejo… or two.” She paused as Zarina was standing in the door. “Swing by Sunny’s too.”
Shopping List:
Tomatoes
Grapes
Melons
Apricots
Chicken thigh
Salt
Sesame Oil
Update: Little shit Grape caused a small fire and burned the few papers I had left. No choice but to use this notebook for my grocery list. Jomurr’s gotta lear Applied a reward system for retrieval of melons: Reds are the best at tracking them, so if they point in the right direction, they get a reward. They kind of just hiss when they smell the goods. Blues kind of suck at actual tracking, but if I send them in the right direction, they can Grapes —-- than blues, but don’t seem to care what. Training to favour melons is … A work in progress. Reward —- d a tinge of magic akin to what I used to poke in the heads of the an– Torragon. That, too, is a work in progress. Still, even the Reds are liking it!
Note: Burned the pages too. ESHIIIIII!!!!!!!
Zeno Bucks is Celebrating the Melon Derby, and YOU are invited! With melons from the derby, you can win yourself free STARS on your Zeno Bucks Cup! These are special, limited edition GOLD Stars that will remain on your cup forever and valid for prizes after the Trials!
10 Melons = 1 Star 5 Large Melons = 1 Star 3 Very Large Melons = 2 Stars 1 Elemelon = A Special Prize! 1 Fake Melon = You Don’t Wanna Know!
Just under a week away from the Derby. Good progress. Stressed over results. Kaspar provided interesting copies of the unique melons. Tried to have the dragons differentiate them. Middling results. Issue: The items inside don’t emit anything until touched by magic. Only the Reds can sort of sniff out the strange melons and I try to reward that. I guess the reds are like that Froabas we took down - can sniff out stronger energy source to consume. The Blues can detect the bigger melons if close, but the elemelons are a problem since they’re generally the same as regular melons to them. Will need reds to point and it falls on us idiots to find. When the very big ones were activated, all the little dragons lost their shit and went for it. Can be good. Can cause issues. Smells good.
After a long day of classes, Zarina returned home to resume her dragon training regime. Riesco was tended to first and even prepared as she had no intentions of walking all over town. However, just as she was ready to go, Arlo looked up at her from her dining table and simply uttered an adorable ”Mep.” with large, focused eyes that closed with scritches.
“Awww. Mep.” she replied, engrossed by the sight, “Mep.” the critter continued, a change from the usual chirps and clicks, “Mep.” they were stuck in a loop for a while.
I was twenty minutes late for training. Oops. Tomorrow is the big day. These little scoundrels make me proud. Arlo now has the cage open all day and hangs on my shoulder sometimes. But often he’s on my head and tugs on my hair. That hurts! I didn’t actually train them and instead rewarded them with a little feast I made of different fruits I could get. Arlo loves Peaches. So I got him a few slices, and stored a few for tomorrow. Gotta be sure my associates have the proper rewards for the little ones. I hope all the chaos won’t be too much on them. I know Arlo will be scared, but I’ve yet to see how the others handle it. Here’s hoping!
Velles 4th
Location: Ersand’Enise Day of the week: Victendes Time: An hour before the Melon Derby Characters: Jomurr @Force and Fury, Kaspar @Wolfieh, Vieri @jdh97, Yuliya @Suicharte, Zarina
The guest teams from other schools had entered the fray and many stood out. Some for their notoriety, others for the stunning display of power they immediately flexed. Some were simply very peculiar such as the sea people with a Sea Dog - A Sea Dog? Very little could captivate Zarina more than such a bizarre creature. Luckily, something even flashier would come along to sweep the girl off her animal-loving feet.
Some well read individuals called it a Great Wulluweid, but the term “Murder Penguin” became far more familiar to the leyman for a reason. Many eyes were on the monster of an animal that slowly waddled behind a team of five, all seemingly dressed for the cold, apart from maybe two.
”It’s warmer than I thought. We dressed up for nothing.” the tall, dark haired teen standing before his team uttered in his mother tongue, looking a tad exacerbated, ”Heh, now you know how it feels to overdress. Woe is me.” replied the one hidden in pale armour that nearly covered his whole body. A chuckle resonated out of his helm and the gear didn’t seem to hamper his movements at all.
Among them stood out one member that hid the entirety of their features and moved in an unnatural manner - like they were not actually walking. Those that had seen Jocasta levitate before could recognize this sort of movement. They wore but a white cloak and their eyes barely shined through the shade of the hood. As the group was chattering and open season was declared on teams, the hooded enigma immediately twisted toward Yuliya direction and appeared to narrow the two orbs that barely reflected light. A gloved finger pointed right at the blonde Sanguinaire’s direction before the Vossoriyan team approached.
”Khaliun, I don’t think that’s …” Vasily hesitantly reached out without taking any action. His hesitation brought Olga to seize the initiative, ”We go, Vasily.” she gave his shoulder a shove to get him going as she beamed down at the indecisive leader. Following behind Khaliun, Olga was second to greet the team, meeting Kaspar with a hand extended to him, ”Hello. I am Olga. You look for team, yes?” the tall girl - slightly less than Zarina - beamed down to the pale bloodchild with a big smile on her face.
Khaliun still awkwardly tilted their head over toward Yuliya, now being an arm’s range of her. Wordlessly, she offered her hand the same way Olga did. ”I think we can make good team, Khaliun is good uhhh -” he tapped his nose, ”nose for this, da.” he claimed as he approached Jomurr, the tall male that definitely looked like the leader, the same way Vasily was dressed for the occasion. Even if his line of nobility was remote, Jomurr could likely discern some traits and mannerisms that placed Vasily into such an exalted status. Like Olga, he offered his hand.
”Hi there, friend! Team up?” Kol’s Avincian seemed a little less broken than the others’, although the accent remained strong. His armour made him look almost taller than Vasily, although not by much. His big, metal hand was extended toward Vieri with his visible eyes indicating a smile that rivalled Olga’s.
Finally came the wrangler of the intimidating beast that slowly followed the group. A small girl with ginger hair and clothes that attempted to simulate the image her peers gave but were clearly “cheaper”. Chipper and full of energy, she offered her hand to Zarina, ”Friend?” she inquired, her Avincian poor enough that she truly couldn’t formulate more than the simplest of phrases. Still, it didn’t stop her from reaching out.
Zarina, on the other hand, was completely taken by the gigantic Penguin the little teen dragged around. The scale of the thing got her to zone out and desperately look for the voice that addressed her, looking down as her last resort to notice Anna, “Oh, by the Dreamer, hello! This is your friend?” she asked, shaking the little lady’s hand while pointing right at the animal with the other. Anna nodded enthusiastically, ”Kikimoras. That Kikimoras!” she also used her idle hand to tap the belly of the beast, ”Hey, Kiki, say hello to our new and weird foreigner teammates! And don’t eat ‘em.” she ordered her familiar in Vossoriyan, or rather a dialect that was somewhat close to old Eskandish. Zarina was just in awe, figuring the words were pure gravy if they could command such a magnificent beast. Kikimoras, standing so tall and adamant to the endless uproar in the background, merely peered down the whole time without a single bend of the neck.
Location: Zeno Afraval’s Abode - Some Vineyard outside Ersand'Enise Day of the week: Victendes Time: 4:30 HE Characters: Jomurr @Force and Fury, Kaspar @Wolfieh, Vieri @jdh97, Yuliya @Suicharte, Zarina
A lot of noise could be heard from the cellar below Sienna Afraval’s home. To some it would be cause for worry, but for those of team Sunbeam it was to be expected. Zarina and Marceline had been tinkering with random objects down there for a week now and were now using it as storage space with the blessing of their teacher. The silver lining from this incessant vacarm was the smell of freshly grounded coffee that came with the daily visit.
With Marceline gone, the tall Virangish teen joined the home’s living room with her apron still on and her hair crudely tied into a bun. In her arms were not cauldrons or pans, but a bird cage and a couple of bug nets. Her golden, squinting eyes scrutinised every living participant of a relaxing Zeno-day. Something was coming, and she took her time to announce what machinations were being concocted in that mind of hers.
“... So, who wants to win the melon derby?”
“I take it you have a plan, and don’t just enjoy tired arms?” Vieri said. This still could be some elaborate joke, no matter how earnest Zarina might seem. That was called paranoid thinking.
“Yes.” Zarined replied. One of the nets was hurled toward the one courageous enough to speak up, “And you will be instrumental in exacting this plan.” she smiled.
“I was afraid of that.”
”So, what is plan Zazzy? Don’t think melon fit in cage.” Yuliya spoke, confused. She was sprawled out on one of the chairs furthest from the window, enjoying the shade of the room. The sun of Ersand’Enise had been getting to her recently, but this was a nice reprieve. Besides that, her brain was wracking. Zarina wasn’t the type to walk around with impractical clothing or equipment. There always seemed to be a method to her madness, and she was excited to see what was about to be proposed.
It was Yuliya’s turn to catch a net flying her way, “Oh we won’t be storing melons, Yuli. I’ve got something more … Exciting in mind.” she posed the cage over a nearby surface and slapped her hands together to brush off the accumulated dust, “And yes, I’m aware, I’m purposefully withholding this to draw out suspense. I promise, it’ll be cool.” she paused for a moment, eyes on the Vossoiyan looker, “And by cool I mean awesome. It’s actually getting hotter outside these days. How hot does it get back home, actually?” she asked her blonde friend. Luckily, dusk was approaching.
”Nothing like over here. Much cooler. Hard to move.” said Yuli, exasperated by the climate and fanning herself as she caught the net in her other hand. She could keep her secrets, she was always down for a surprise. She couldn’t wait for the sun to set. Days were longer here and it annoyed her. Longer to feed and longer to walk the streets. “So, anybody have idea? I do not.”
There was something about the sheer… forwardness of Zarina that irked Jomurr, but equally something about her moxie that intrigued him. He had no idea what she wanted with that junk and some part of him rebelled at the thought of meekly going along with her plan, but there was ever a tiresome spark of curiosity in him these days.
From his place on a divan, where he was lounging most luxuriously, nursing a glass of cabernet, Jomurr merely shrugged. “I imagine you’re about to find out,” he ventured, swirling the wine once before taking a sip. “And far be it from me to ruin the suspense.” He winked in Zarina’s direction as if to say, ‘your secret’s safe with me,’ counting on his masterful control of his face to sell the lie.
“I won’t say no to playing along with a well made plan though.” added Vieri.
Jomurr had a wineglass in his hand and the two nets were already distributed, so he lucked out. Zarina did a final head count before clearing her throat, “Well, looks like Red’s gonna miss out.” she shrugged, “Okay, to unravel the first step of my plan.” she twirled on her feet and ended up facing the entrance door of the Zeno's home and opened it, “We’re going to the local vineyard!” she exclaimed in a clumsy display of showmanship, arms gesturing to the outdoors, “And, no, we’re not getting piss drunk to cope with our inadequacies.”
She did not speak for Vieri.
“Why else would go to vineyard? We catch grapes instead of melon? You are such a tease.” said Yuli, pouting jokingly at Zarina. As much as she wanted to hear the answer, she could appreciate the theatrics of the situation. Regardless of that, there was a hint of annoyance at the fact that she would be going out with a net to the fields when she was certainly not dressed for it. At least dusk was coming and she didn’t have to worry about the high noon sun staring her down, but it was still an inconvenience enough to make her want to sigh. And so she did, as she stood up ready to hear her pal’s plan.
“I’ll let you get one guess. What is so interesting in a Vineyard that it’s worth our time?” she kept a toothy grin on her visage as the group followed her lead. Cage in hand and the sky orange from the sun setting, it would take a good twenty minutes for them to get to the edge of the city, and with proof of their tuition in Ersand’Enise they were allowed out, albeit before it got too late, “A small hint, it’s not for the pretty views.” she added, while sticking close to her Vossoriyan friend for idle chit chat and mentions of novel clubs they may have found. This one was a fan of the new girl.
They would eventually get to the location with raisins beginning to mature into blue, Muscat grapes. Everything appeared somewhat normal with nobody in sight, as the field itself was quite isolated with rows of trees surrounding it and a single road brushing East, “Shhhh, don’t wanna spook ‘em.” she said as she began to crouch a little. Some would begin to notice very quick critters flying about and diving into the plants with brief flashes of light emerging from their supposed point of impact. Burning smells were becoming more obvious with frequent clicking noises coming from the rustling grape plants.
‘What the fuck was that’ was the first thing that came to Yuliya’s mind before she saw more of them bounding around. The foliage made it hard to get a clear look, but she did not have nearly as hard a time seeing in the dark as her team members, so she observed. Little wings fluttered in the sunset, and occasionally she would see the fire that spewed from the holders of those wings. She sighed again, knowing what would have to be done. ”I won’t ask why you want them. But I name them when I catch them. And if them burn clothes, you pay.” she whispered only half jokingly, as she began to get into a position better suited for stealth. She’d done this to humans before, but animals were notoriously harder. Especially flying ones. Then again, she didn’t expect things to be easy.
Kaspar wasn’t sure if his apprentice group had noticed him catching up on their way out of Ersand’Enise, but he watched from a few feet behind at the small, swooping dragons. He eyed them passively, watching the small bursts of fire and half-listening to Yuliya’s words. This will be good practice for Varmkorv. Though… the size is inaccurate, he mused, pushing the sleeves of his tunic away from his wrists.
Stepping back and glancing around, he noticed one clinging to a group of grapes just below eye level. Its skin was a little more saturated than the fruits around it. Moving slowly, Kaspar pulled against the small cloth tucked into his vest, gripping it by the edges as he closed in. The dragon glanced up, eyes blinking several times as it seemed to stop, searching for the threat.
The Binding mage was slow enough to evade detection—and fast enough, as his hands darted forward and swaddled the small creature. Calling on his Chemical skills, remembering the way he’d assisted Zarina with the alpha Froabas, he soothed the small creature as it struggled against the bond. After a few seconds it began to calm down, breathing heavily but still in his hands as he cradled it against his chest, unsure what to do now.
His attention was captured by rustling around the bottom of the vines just to his side. Tucking the bundle grape dragon into the top of his vest where it formed a curious lump and peeked out overtop the buttons, the boy leaned down, pulling back the trailing greenery.
A red face and rather rotund body stared at him, before springing towards him. Small but sharp teeth clamped onto his fingers and the boy grunted, pulling back sharply and dragging the drake into the open. He grabbed at its tail, causing the creature to whirl and breathe a bout of flames that licked against his skin, burning the upper layer of skin.
With new determination, Kaspar grabbed it around its bountiful middle, pulling it off the ground and facing away from him as it twisted and snapped. Thrashing, its tail disturbed the vines and sent several groups of dragons scattering loudly away. It also lashed across the noble’s face, leaving several red lines that would fade in a few minutes.
It did, however, throw Kaspar off balance, and he tipped backward to land heavily on the dirt, focus only partially dissuaded from the task at hand—persuading this creature to cooperate. Aided by Chemical Magic, it calmed enough for him to turn around and the two regarded each other with concerningly well-matched pouts. “You are feit og sint. But you do not know these words. Fat and angry, the Avincians would call you.”
Sitting up, another shape slid into view clinging to his bangs. Trying and failing to scramble up his bangs, the small Blueberry Dragon was plucked from the boy’s scalp and seemed to shake in his grasp. It was easy enough to see the thing was afraid. Soothing it with chemicals, the boy stood, now cradling three of the creatures.
Zarina quickly twisted to find Kaspar had actually joined them! And the loud mess he made agitated a few flocks of little dragons, prompting them to take flight. Just as she was readying herself for a catch before most of the critters would retire for the night, Vieri appeared with their own magnificent beast.
“So why are we here, Zarina?” Vieri asked. They were weaving their arms to keep a plump little dragon forever running along them towards their hands.
“Woah. That’s a thick one.” she blinked and leaned over a bit to observe the grumpy creature somehow not mauling its new owner, “We’re here because our first trial involves fruits, and finding them.” she grabbed a raisin from a vine and tossed it over to the raspberry dragon, and it promptly ate the treat, “Am I making sense?”
The dragon carried on along its eternal path. “I don’t think grapes count.”
“... They eat fruits and bugs. Grapes are just readily available in vineyards.” yet another grape is offered to the red, chunky beast, “This is a Raspberry dragon. Notice the lack of raspberries in its mouth!” she said with a toothy grin, content with having this animal around.
“You want to use the dragons?”
Zarina gave Vieri a dull stare, “No, I want to collect them all.”
“How droll. What of each peach, pear, and plum in the city? Or every raspberry? Are you a dragon tamer? A whisperer?”
The Virangishwoman smiled confidently, “Kaspar as my witness - Because he helped me - I tamed an Alpha in the desert! You were there. But, yes, I have an idea on how to train them. Sort of.”
“Sure… I was there…” Could a memory smell of fear? “Do we get to know your idea?”
“Well that’s precisely the idea.” she crossed her arms, “Train them to sniff out specific fruits. These buggers in particular,” she nodded at the direction of the red dragon Vieri had claimed, “have a powerful nose for those. It’s just a question of technique and patience.”
Vieri sunk into silence. That was indeed the question. Vieri just wanted the answer.
Jomurr, meanwhile, was occupied by his own efforts to collect a tiny dragon. He had ample experience with the larger varieties, of course. He had three of his own back home and, soon enough, they would find their way to Ersand’Enise. Though this may have been - literally - a different beast, he went in with wholly-justified confidence…
It was immediately crushed. His attempt to lure one of the little beasts over with a particularly large and ripe grape and some chemical magic resulted in his hair nearly being set on fire. The creature bit at him next, but then it tipped its hand with a predictable stream of fire and, miffed, Jomurr drew it all away and launched it right back, scaring the scaly little devil away.
Already tiring of this fruitless endeavour and, after taking a moment to cast about to ensure that he wasn’t being watched, he pursued a second, his shirt being clawed at before he managed to dodge its flaming breath, lune forward, and… trip on an outstretched root. “Blast it,” he hissed beneath his breath, manain to prevent a faceplant. He whirled on the pint-sized terror and… it landed on his forearm and licked at the grape juice smeared all over it from his near fall. Jomurr blinked. The grape dragon blinked. “Did you really need to make it so hard?” he inquired. He tilted his head to one side. The grape dragon tilted its head to one side.
While the others went off, Yuli had taken her time. There were many dragons in the field, but she had one particular target, a rather chunky specimen adorned with raspberries and lacking wings to fly. Perhaps it was the uniqueness that had caused her to go for it, or perhaps it was the fact it was apart from the others. She’d always been better at going for solitary prey, and today was no different. Slowly, she crept through the bush she’d found this one in, and slowly, she made her move, waiting for the moment it’d be distracted and caught unawares. A few minutes passed before she felt confident, but she quickly snatched it up, dispatching its senses with the ever so handy blood type she’d taken from a friend, and shoving it in the net given to her by Zarina. Perhaps these creatures weren’t as wily as she initially thought. It was heavy, and she thought the net might give way to the struggling at times, but the job was done. She went to rejoin the others, only to find that everyone had caught at least one, and there were more than one of her chunky type specimens. She felt a little deflated that she hadn’t caught some outrageously rare specimen like she previously thought, but perhaps confident that her teammates seemed to be extremely competent.
“Good work! Are fat dragon useful? This one grumpy, I have to turn their senses off to stop it making racket.” she spoke as she emerged from behind the group still keeping somewhat stealthy without even realising it.
“Alright, alright, good job.” Zarina congratulated her team after supervising their approaches, and definitely making note of Yuliya’s peculiar means of keeping control over the beast. “I’ll tell you guys how we’re gonna handle training after I get myself a cutie too.” she rubbed her hands together and posed the cage to let the others put their recent catches in there. It was time for Zazzy to claim her prize, and it seemed most of the little critters had since left. Luckily, some vines were still bustling with activity.
First was a pack of four Grape dragons, and in her confidence she failed to actually catch any with one of her sleeves catching fire and a particularly feisty dragon biting her finger, “Agh shit!” by the time she regained her composure and put out the small flame on her arm, they had flown away. However, the commotion scared a couple of Blueberries that, due to their proximity, reacted with some aggression. Being relatively frail and unaggressive compared to Grapes, the result would be a couple of scratches from and a blue little critter in the cage, put to sleep by Zarina’s potent chemical magic she had arrogantly withheld from using initially, “Eshi …” she huffed before turning her attention toward Kaspar, “Hey, Kaspar. Mind helping a girl out?”
Shifting his grip on the animals he’d collected, the binder made his way to his companion, red eyes already taking in the minor injuries she’d managed to accrue. None of them were particularly large or worrisome, so despite his student status the boy was able to repair them with the Nourishment of Oraff-Zept, a skill he’d only recently begun learning. Leaves disappeared off the vines around them, subtly plucked by his bloodchild Gift and lending their being to become part of the Virangishwoman. “Are there any others that bother you?” he asked, giving a cursory glance to check for obvious wounds.
The process prompted Zarina to briefly hiss, mostly from her expectation of it stinging rather than the healing hurting at all. “All good, thanks bud.” she responded with a grateful nod and a playful wink, “Okay! We've all got our little buggers.” the teen clapped her hands together to get the attention of the group. The sun had set and the sky was getting dark, with all the little critters now gone to their nests, “Plan is simple: I'll babysit them every afternoon. Kaspar here is gonna find ways for us to maybe replicate some higher value melons so I can train these guys better. We'll be discussing strats soon at Afraval's soon. Good?” she didn't give much room for anyone to interject, “Good.”
Team Sunbeam catches little dragons. Some are chunky.
Emeth
wintersoldier
CitrusArms
Danyel
rabidbacon
dragonpiece
pantothenic
Izurich
jasbraq
