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Fantasy ▽Journey to Lost city of Vesi▽ [clsd]

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Magen watched as the Captain interacted with Beaux further off. She couldn't hear what was being said, but from her perspective, it seemed as though the Captain was being kind and caring in Beaux's time of need. That alone made her happy. She'd try to cheer him up if she could, after all, if he was down enough about something that he didn't come on the boat when he was so excited about everything before, it must have been something very big indeed. The fact that the Captain was attempting to cheer him up, showed a level of leadership and understanding of the emotional well being of his crew that made her confident that he was the right pick for the job for this journey. That he was understanding and welcoming was fairly obvious to her when they shook hands. He actually treated her like a living, breathing, flesh and blood creature.

Before she knew it however, Beaux was already on top of her, metaphorically speaking. Having been deep in thought, she missed when he ran up and only partially understood the words that were coming out of his mouth. Not only due to his speaking speed, but his accent seemed to be getting thicker somehow, perhaps it was due to his vast and ever growing excitement? Whatever it was, she could make out the words protect, water and lab. Probably talking about giving her some extra protection when dealing the with water. "Yes, Beaux that would sound very nice." She smiled at him in a motherly manner and patted him lightly on the head.

Magen smiled at Hengist as he walked over and asked her about training and getting rusty. It was a hilariously ironic thing to say to someone made out of metal, but it was not like it was said to be offensive or anything, merely a turn of the phrase and the way that he smiled at her made her believe that he said it as a joke at any case.

"Yes, I believe if I remember correctly from the tour, on the second level below the deck, there was a large space for practice or workouts. I would love to join you for a spar?" Immediately after the words were out of her mouth, she realized that she was a feeling a bit embarrassed again as it started to get hotter in the room, for her at least. Her gears sped up slightly. Once again it was moments like this that she was glad that she didn't blush. "I think... I think it's this way." She spoke quickly as she slightly stumbled over her words.

Magen began to walk to the Workout room, leading the way for them. "So, what led you to accepting this job as Captain. I mean, I gathered that you were clearly a top notch Captain to be picked for a journey such as this, but what made you want to venture into this great unknown?"
 
BEAUX & HARMMISH

TIME CHECK: Day 1.
Time: hour 5.30.
Location: South Escainian Canal.
Weather: clear blue skies and light breeze, warmer than average.

Trektek Trektek Juju Juju Cyan Dragon Cyan Dragon Archie Archie TheCrowKing TheCrowKing

Bells on the deck began to chime. Loud, but sonorous and full. Just as Beaux opened the doors back to the engine room, a large puff of exertion blast back into his face as the engine began to churn. The gears clanked and chains clinked as everything roared to life.

Beaux gave a loud cackle as he removed his goggles from his face to look into the dark room. "Yes! Yes! Come alive ye beautiful beast!" He gave another loud cackle that was drowned out by the song of the engine. The two large boilers were already sweating from work, creating a high-pressure and humid environment. The industrial lights were dim, but that could easily be fixed; however... the darkness of the room made it feel all the much better to Beaux... it felt homey and right.

As the ship was slowly started into motion, the gears started to churn and chains began to clank and pipes began to whistle under the forgotten exertion of movement. It was a quiet cacophony, but if one would listen with intent, they could began to hear the rhythm of the orchestration of the great beast; how she worked together and moved with great accuracy and precision.

Beaux stood in the center of the claustrophobic, hot, steaming engine room and stared up to the ceiling. He began to spin around, grinning at all the features around him. He soon began to walk through the labyrinth of pipes and tanks and gears, humming an old folk lore song he somehow knew.

The bells chimed again, and then a softer buzz came from aboard the ship to all the rooms on each level. Director Harmmish's voice came on one last time. "~Dear crew. It is time I must leave you. It seems all of you have made yourselves quite at home. Captain, I have drawn up the anchor. Mister Beaux, I have started the engines. Lady Zephriel, I have set the course for the Escainian reef. Of course, you may want to travel south instead of through the reef, Captain, but I'll leave that up to you. Just beware of the shallow and flourishing waters, as well as pirates. Estimated time to reach the reach is 3 hours! I wish you all the best of luck on your journey! Gerald Harmmish, signing off~" There was a click from the loudspeakers, and a continuation of bells as the ship slowly and automatedly began to pull away from the dock in the canal.

The short man made his way from the deck to the dock to the ground. He could be seen waving a handkerchief as Mercury disappeared around the corner of the canal into the waters of the Escainian Reef.
 
Hengist
Mentions: Trektek Trektek ​



The strong and impressively built machine, at the very least, seemed not to know of Hengist's disastrous last expedition. This made him happy, and he powerwalked towards the gym, not exactly knowing where it was but trusting that fate would take him there. That really was the key to so many things in navigation - trust that it wouldn't go too badly.

"Certainly, a friendly spar would be nice!" Hengist proclaimed. Magen was the fighter, and Hengist expected to lose, but there was no loss of honor in losing to a machine when fighting with your bare hands! Besides, there was a strategic purpose for this - he needed to find out just how good Magen was. As he found out in the Merman revolt in Mar Corus, a few good warriors meant the difference between life and death, even for a fleet - there was no telling what they could do for a single ship!

Magen asked him a question, and Hengist was flattered, so much so that even he was flattered and blushed a little. He wasn't used to favorable first impressions after the press scandals, always on the lookout for a fight.

"In truth, I'm no great captain, I'm just one of the few qualified captains for something of this sort" Hengist explained, turning to Magen as the two continued walking.

"There are maybe three Escanians who have led any kind of expedition in the past decade to an unknown place. Most have only led one. I had the privilege of leading three. Results were a mixed bag, they depended so much on the richness of the land. As with everything, it is up to fate"

The intercom blared, as Hammish made his last declaration. It was now fate that for the next several years, this crew was alone.

"Yes, yes, of course the reef" Hengist stated, somewhat annoyed by the suggestion that he would sail the southern sea.

"Less traffic, less pirates, slightly more bothersome for the navigator. We're not a bunch of dilletantes" he stated, somewhat offended.

The pair arrived at the training room. There were weapons there - ranging from longswords to maces.

"What do you fight with, Magen?" asked Hengist.
 
Magen
Archie Archie
She was a good fighter, better at fighting on the defensive, at least at the start. It was her sister that had been built for pure offensive capabilities and she was more of a support member of their mercenary duo. But over the times, she picked up much more combat abilities in order to make herself much more useful on the field of battle. Certainly her sister, Zayin, had appreciated the extra forward motion. Not that all of their missions even ended up with fighting. Sometimes a little intimidation was all that was needed. After all, having two powerful looking mechanical women that you might have to fight, would scare away most people that would do something stupid.

He blushed at her comment about his captaining abilities. He certainly didn't seem the type, but it was nice to know that he was not immune to compliments after all. Even with his deflection of his abilities and being humble about how he captains, complete with failures, that did not make him any less of a captain in her eyes. Everyone had failures under their belt. That was merely a fact of life. She had opened her mouth to say as such when the intercom blared and Hammish spoke up. Apparently they were to be on their way. So soon. But it was probably not soon enough for their benefactor who clearly was eager for them to find this city and come back as soon as possible with tales of adventure and daring do.

They were now a small handful of explorers, on their own except for each other. And she hoped that they would come to rely on her to help them as she should hopefully come to rely on them, including the one that looked at her with disdain.

The pair of them arrived at the training room with all the weapons on the walls and Hengist asked about the weapons that she used.

"Well, I cam fully capable of fighting with my fists when I don't wish to be lethal, but when I need to fight my hardest, I prefer to use my shield." She reached to her back with both hands and grabbed her shield, clicking the buttons under the flap that allowed it to be separated into two pieces allowing it to be held separately in both hands. Then as part of the same flowing motion, clicking another button that extended a blade from each half, ending with a twirl and flourish for show.

"As you can see. My shield can also become two blades at a moments notice. So I can be Defensive and Offensive depending on the situation."​
 
Anziium
Mentioning: Juju Juju bonesbo bonesbo Cyan Dragon Cyan Dragon Trektek Trektek Archie Archie
There hadn’t seemed to be an official conclusion to the tour, but as the group swiftly began to dwindle in numbers, Anziium found himself alone with the stout gnome. His gaze drifted down the hallway and back, searching for anyone to possibly dump his attention upon so he might fall under the radar. Unfortunately, everyone had already taken the opportunity to disappear at the soonest possible chance. Scouring his mind for really anything to say, he finally ushered a soft excuse. "I apologize If I come off as rude, but I'd rather get changed before I become ill." It was the best he could do for the moment, soon enough slipping his way down the hall and into the room designated as his own. The door softly shut behind him, yet he stood behind it, heart racing. In truth, this was the most speaking to another sentient being --sorry Biel-- in the better part of five years. It was progress, but not enough to assure them all he could aid them in speaking to any of the islands' natives when the time came.

A racked sigh escaped him as he peeled himself from the door's interior side to gaze about his quarters. It wasn’t particularly luxurious, but this tiefling wasn't the type to protest against something such as that. His previous living quarters were decently large, but even then he had chosen to hide himself away in the furthest possible corner, as not ever to be disturbed, if a soul had even bothered to tread through ruin; In his case, no one ever had, so it didn't quite matter in the long run. Regardless as to the size of this current room, he would find some way to make it his own, even with the minimal belongings he had bothered to haul with him. It wouldn't take him long to unpack, but Anziium cared very little to do such at the moment, much rather preferring to, as he stated, change his clothes.

Reaching around to take the bag from his shoulders, Anziium flopped it upon the bed, unzipping the overly stuffed fabric to root through its contents. One could say he wasn’t too well versed in the art of fashion, considering he had far too little outfits, with even fewer color schemes to match. With his preferable overcoat soaked, he would have to resort to a more formal cornflower blue button-down with darker blue jacket atop. The stripping of his clothes wasn’t exactly easy, mind you. Firstly, it was a pain to even attempt to peel them off. Secondly, he was trying his darndest to not wake Biel from his slimey slumber. Once it was off though, he placed the sodden nest of fabric into the empty water basin until dry. Then came the upper shirt, and lastly would be the under shirt, as his pants hadn’t gotten wet. Yet, a loud clutter down the corridor had caught his attention, followed by a few cries of despair; Surely a prompt for him to investigate.

The door of the bedroom slowly creaked open, a horned head poking out into the hall in search of the source of commotion. His bronze gaze landed upon the winged woman, Zephriel, dismissing her fall at first as if it hadn’t matter at all that a woman had fallen. Actually-- it really didn’t matter to him anyway. That is, until he did a double take on what it was she had toppled over onto the ground. The door was fully open now, his presence suddenly behind her. “One would think a woman of your occupation would be a tad bit more mindful of her trek with such precious texts within her possession.” His voice ushered, a tone of reprimand lining his words. He wasn’t about to leave her to clean them up no, that would take too long and he preferred they be treated far more decent that just scattered upon the floor. Anziium already had several within his grasp as the overhead came on, announcing their departure. It didn’t excite much thrill within him, he too busy recovering the abused texts upon the floor.
 
Zephriel hauled herself up and quickly scrambled to get the books off of the ground, for once not even caring about the dust getting on her dress. "Nonono...P. R. Whitecrest, K. Moonheart, Sir Boggington! Forgive me!" she muttered miserably to herself, her pretty face now pale from horror.

You could swear her best friends had just been crippled, which in all honesty was not far from the truth. Her hands were shaking as she gingerly lifted one of the books, Principles of Geography, and inspected its pages. Even her wings were twitching from the pained anxiety. There were no tears, or any major damage (thank the gods) but she did notice that one of the edges of the book was more dog eared than before. The others were in alright condition save for some scuffing, dust, and one had a few pages bent. Thankfully she had brought the proper supplies for mending damaged books.

How could she let this happen? How could she be so careless? She had skilfully transported stacks of this height in the library of Sol'Rashi. The exemplar of the library, dropping books like some common apprentice! It would never do! She would have to be better! At least nobody had see-

Zephriel blinked in surprise when she heard a voice from behind her. She turned her head, eyes filled with scorn when the tiefling -- whom she recalled was named Anziium -- dared accuse her of being careless. The words sunk deep into her currently unstable pride, causing her feathered wings to puff up.

"You think I do not know this!? These texts are beyond precious! They are perfect examples of artistic prose, of meticulous research and documentation! I've read them all at least twice! Don't be so bold as to assume I was careless! It was this blasted heap of metal... and such annoyingly small hallways! If not for this ship there would not be a problem!" she bristled, "Damn this cursed mass of machinery! It lacks all forms of grace and dignity! How is this 'cutting edge' of anything! Hmph!"

She noticed Anzi pick up a few of the books and was about to scold him on the proper way to handle books, but bit her tongue when she realized he was actually doing it correctly. Perhaps there was but a speck of civility on this ship! She might have even commented on it, had the tiefling not only accused her of being careless but also chastised her for 'leaving' the books on the floor. How dare he! AGAIN!

Her face turned an angry shade of pink, "I'll have you know I trained for years at the most prestigious library in all of the world! Ha! Careful!? When I was but a mere apprentice I was charged with transporting books throughout the halls --which I might add, spanned over hundreds of stories! Of course, I wouldn't expect some commoner to know the difference between a backwater stack of documents and a professional collection of written knowledge! You should be honoured to pick up writings from the likes of Moonheart and Sir Boggington! They don't deserve to be in such a dismal watercraft!"

"Now help me bring these to the library!" Zeph added with a sniff, and headed off in the direction of the stairwell. When she got to the end of the hall she realized that the tiefling had not followed her, but instead put the books in her room. She felt her skin crawling just at the thought of that peasant messing up her perfectly organized desk. Or worse, placing books incorrectly within her bookshelf! Zephriel cursed under her breath and was about to storm back over to her room when a disembodied voice echoed from above her. Needless to say, she flinched, but no books went flying this time.

Was someone using a voice spell? No, it was a bit gritty. Were machines able to do that too? She looked around, trying to pinpoint the source of the sound. The announcement ended before she could find it, but it hardly mattered. They would be arriving soon and she had not reviewed the maps again! Even if she had studied each and every possible route before she had got here, she should always refresh one more time!

Her desk and that nasty tiefling would have to wait. She needed to get these books to the ship library and study the maps some more! Maybe she would even have some time to reread The Botanist's Journey before landfall?
 
Stop 1: Escainian Reef
  • Index
    • JOD & BEAUX

    TIME CHECK:     Day 4.
    Time: hour 4, white sunrise
    Location: Escainian Reef: Duck Isle. C5, small white island (shaped like rubber duck)
    Weather: full cloud cover, low eerie light makes sunrise indistinguishable. cool but very humid with thick fog.

    Trektek Trektek Juju Juju Cyan Dragon Cyan Dragon Archie Archie TheCrowKing TheCrowKing
    ______________________________________________________________

    The crew sailed on. The first few days of travel had proven to be filled with anticipation and excitement, but that excitement was false. The first few days of travel began to show its face of sea-sickness, homesickness, perhaps doubt; it was only natural as the crew stared out into bright but calm silver waters ahead of them.

    The first day seemed too short. Everyone was bustling to become acquainted with the ship, with each other, with their new home and new life. The voyage was exciting as they slowly sailed away from the coastline, watching their homes disappear as they ventured out for the first time as a crew. They sailed Northeast, towards the Escainian Reef. The reef was settled on a large flat on land with a protective border of green, mountainous teeth sticking up from the waters; it was a great defense for Escain. As the reef was shallow, bustling with life, and surrounded by jagged olive tree trunks, scattered forest debris, coral life, travel had been slow and ginger. There is seldom wind to carry Mercury's sails, but that proved to be a good thing, as the reef required careful navigation to avoid damage on both the ship and bustling life beneath the waters.

    The second day... Doubt set in. At least for some of the crew. Everyone was settled in to their new home, more or less, and the excitement was quickly wearing off. The waters seemed too still, and the droning, unfamiliar humming of the steam engine was enough to put a seed of anxiety in the back of someone's mind. The sun was hot that day, they were still very much in the tropical region of the world. By day three, they had approached the area of the reef that kissed the archipelago of the reef.

    Day four. The prior night was cool as they passed north into the temperate zone, and as they sailed further from the course of the white sun, the heat became less extreme in the day as well. Beaux had installed a system into the engine that kept it functioning during the night is so requested by the Captain. They would be able to set a course, and Mercury would guide herself to the destination over the night.

    When the crew awoke, they were unable to tell the time of day, and whether they had floated into the sky above them. The deck was immersed into a thick, alarming hug of fog. The air was still; so still, that it appeared they were not moving. They were reassured by the thrull of the engine along with the gentle swishes of the water beneath them. They could not see ahead of them, behind, nor to the sides. Even the nautical figurehead, a mythological god with wings, could not be seen through the blanket that provided no comfort nor warmth. Mercury's hull groaned at the cool air, she was covered in her own blanket of mist and condensation.

    What was unseen ahead of them was Duck Isle, named for both its shape and its residence: aquatic birds of all varieties that feast on the abundance of fish in the surrounding reef. The land was closer than thought. Thick tree roots formed the shore, providing a cage of shelter for swimming creatures, but also created a marshy border where the land mixed in with the uncertain water line. This island ahead of them was unknown to the crew, unknown to the Captain; although automatically depicted on the map near the wheel as the ship approached her unseen first destination. [    Next major post will describe the land. Crew posts following this will describe your journey so far, and the coming morning to wake up to fog, "crash" into the island, etc. before boarding Duck isle if you so wish].


    Beaux laid face down on the deck of the ship. Although the air was thick enough to suddenly form condensation on one's skin, he had none. The Mechanic had his arms and legs spread out in star formation, his cheek pressed against the damp and flush wood, his eyes half open in sickness. If a crew member had been unaware of the star-fish-boy on board, they might as very well stepped on him though the thick visual. The first few days, Beaux had been confined to his workshop and the engine room as he acquainted himself with the organs and life of his home; otherwise, the boy began to feel very sick from the motions of turbulence and rocking. He found it difficult to sleep, as he rarely did on the norm anyways, so he occupied his time with building "helper-bots", meddling around with his tinker toys, mindlessly wandering the ship with his smooth white stone in hand, or cooking. Mostly cooking.

    The helper bots have so far been... helpful. There were now three of them. They just needed a few upgrades is all... I mean... they were helpful just sometimes at the wrong time. They would come into a crew mate's room while they slumber and the bot would make the bed, folding the sheets back down in a tight formation and essentially trapping the member under. So far, only one instance has occurred where a bot untied one of the main sails as they were trying to tighten a knot; turns out mechanical hands aren't the best at gripping wet rope. But otherwise, the helper-bot have been cute little buzzing buddies that would clean dishes, sweep the inner floors, organise materials in library and "gym" space.

    As for Beaux's cooking... Oh haevens have mercy. The kitchen was fully stocked at the beginning of the trip, with a plentiful cornucopia of food storage and rations below deck. The boy seemed to know what he was doing. He needed no cookbook (nevertheless he couldn't read one if he had one) to make such gourmet and perfected meals. All of the crew member's dietary needs were met, as he went around and asked in an inconvenient time of late late night. He had no real sense of time. Each morning following the boarding, Beaux prepared delicious arrangements of blended fruits and exotic vegetables even he hasn't seen before, topped with fresh herbs to spice and balance the sweetness. Along side the creamy beverages were fresh baked loaves of hearty bread, covered in seeds and drizzled with a light honey.
    He moved around the kitchen like a mad man. Several appliances would be whirring at once, he would be chopping for only a couple of seconds before moving to the next counter and sliding perfectly diced fruits into a jar before a hand-made mech would crush the fruits into a sweet pulp. He wore his goggles, an apron, and had his hair tied back into a messy bun of course. He attached a belt to his waist to hold tools life knifes and other unknown kitchen tools. The boy naer spoke much while he worked. Although sometimes cackles or laughter would be heard, sometimes disapproving grunts, sometimes he would smash a glass jar to the ground and curse at it before a bot would come to sweep it up.

    But this morning, Beaux the madman lain on the deck, a breakfast unprepared for the crew. He felt sick to his stomach from the previous night, as he had been trying to work on a navigation system to install to the crows nest up way above the deck. Sickness wasn't the only thing keeping him horizontal: there was an oppressive feeling in the air. Beaux was used to air pressure, as most of the time it was comforting, but this was unlike the other air pressure he felt. This was... anxiety, worry... Shadows of doubt.

    He was the first of the crew to be on deck, and he was one of them all to have been oblivious to a concealed shadow trailing and circling their vessel.

    [remember the #canon-conversations tab on discord is always free for quicker conversations either in the past or present!!]​
     
  • Index
    • Kyriulle| Mentions: TheCrowKing TheCrowKing bonesbo bonesbo

    Kyriulle's room was soon put into neat order, glass bottles of dried herbs and various salves lining the shelves along with medical journals and his own personal diaries of treatments both effective and not he'd compiled over the years. Keeping them in place through the rolling and rocking of the ship was a simple binding spell. His other medical supplies were stored away in drawers close to the bed. His clothes were hung in the closet and the only other person item he had - his vial of magic water - stayed in the satchel strapped to his belt. The room was a little bare, if he were to be honest, but he didn't mind. His home back on shore was as well. He could have had to leave at a moment's notice; why waste money collecting trinkets he would have to abandon?

    The Kirin had spent most of that first day in his room, nitpicking at his arrangements and staring out the window at odd intervals just to watch the water. When he grew hungry, he ate one of his own rations that he had brought. Sleep didn't come easily when night fell; perhaps it was nerves, perhaps excitement, perhaps unease at being trapped among strangers on this ship. Kyriulle began to wonder if he had done the right thing, if his wanderlust was worth risking everything he'd done to protect himself. Ah, but even if he did regret this decision, it was too late now.

    On the second day he did venture from his quarters, and even ate the breakfast Beaux had prepared for them. Though he stayed toward the edge of the room and didn't voice as much, he was pleasantly surprised to find that the food the mer-creature prepared was quite delicious, more so than the simple fare he had always fixed for himself for certain. He left before the others finished and climbed to the top deck, finding a corner to nestle down in where he would be out of the way and stayed there, blue eyed reflecting the silver waters as he watched them

    Kyriulle maintained this routine over the next few days of travel, hardly interacting with the others outside of polite greetings or brief exchanges. He avoided the Tiefling especially; though at the beginning he thought he might find a friend, now his clingy familiar only made him wary. He could be seen staring out at the coral, the tree roots, the silvery water, or roaming the edges of the deck. He had a distant air about him, and probably came off as unsocial or even aloof to the rest of the crew.

    Kyriulle's routine was interrupted on the fourth day. There was no smell of Beaux's delicious cooking wafting through their quarters to ease them awake, and it was eerily quiet. The Kirin grew uneasy for no particular reason at all, the feeling growing stronger when he glanced out his window and saw only white. Pursing his lips slightly, he left his room and climbed to the upper deck, eyes narrowing at the thick fog that blanketed the entire scene in a thick coat of white. The fog was so thick it made it almost dark at the surface of the ship. Without thinking much of it Kyriulle held up his palm and summoned a glow bright enough to illuminate his immediate surroundings. Without the light he would have stumbled over Beaux, the sickly looking mer-creature sprawled on the deck with a miserable expression. The Kirin glanced down at him and raised an eyebrow, then looked out where the ocean should have been, expression becoming serious. "I don't like this," he muttered mostly to himself. There was no telling what the ship could run into in this fog. "Beaux, perhaps we should stop the ship for now. We're sailing blind." It was the most Kyriulle had said to anyone in days.
     
    Last edited:
    Anziium
    Mentioning:     bonesbo bonesbo Cyan Dragon Cyan Dragon

    Some commoner? Of course, that was the first insult she would choose to aim at him; That insult was only second to the pointing out he was demon-kin. Neither of them were false in any form or fashion, and he wasn’t afraid to admit that, but he had dared to assume the personnel aboard this ship were a bit more civilized; Especially someone of the likes that dared to call themselves higher class. Well, at the very least, he was the only one to have some form of manners. Instead of his desire to spit back venom her way, he chose to ignore it and spite her instead by waltzing straight into her opened room to gently place the books upon her desk. Oh, he knew she was attempting to carry them elsewhere, but he wasn’t about to throw them upon the floor as she had; This passive aggressive backlash was only to further fan her irritation.

    Anziium had chosen to not interact with any more of the crew that day, instead confining himself to his own quarters. It would do his attitude well to sit and organize his belongings, and so he did. The few clothes he had brought were neatly folded and tucked away, only to give way to the mass amount of papers, quills, and texts he had brought instead. Drawers of the tiny desk were opening and closing at a steady rate, new bottles of ink slipped inside along with fresh parchment. It was...too organized, really. In the days to come, that would soon degrade to the disaster he had kept his previous living space. Several times had he ventured to the library, pulling anything he might find useful as to scrape any information of the coming people they would come to meet.

    His days were spent with whatever company he gleaned from his studies, not paying much attention to the day cycles upon them. In this time, he had stacks upon stacks of scribblings of notes, either pinned to the walls or pressed between dusty pages. Of course, he had stepped out to refresh himself and take something from the kitchens whenever he was able to pull himself away. It just was never something spent with the crew --outside of that one time he was pretty sure he woke up to Beaux in his room asking about food with Biel latched to his leg--, he much more comfortable working in solitary with Biel keeping him company, as he had for so many years.

    Finally, on the fourth day he decided to step outside of the living quarters to take in some fresh air for a bit. It had been earlier that morning he had stepped foot from his room, assuming the others to be asleep as it was before dawn. Upon first inspection, it didn’t appear to be the greatest weather to enjoy the outdoors, but ah well. He had gingerly climbed himself to the top of the mast until he reached the very tip top to throw himself in the crow’s nest. And what was it he intended to do here all day? Read. He simply wanted to read with a change of scenery.

    Biel had slithered himself into his master’s pocket during this whole process, only freeing himself from the fabric pouch once they had arrived upon the top deck. The creature had grown rather bored of sitting inside the tiny room, despite how many pets he had received over the past couple days. With a vast ocean to explore and Anziium unable to prevent him from jumping, a small splash graced the wee hours of the morning. Hours had passed, with the tiefling having dozed with his book splayed across his stomach and the little creature only poking his head above the surface at the sign of awakened individuals. Head cocked, it listened to whomever had come outside, popping back down below the water for a brief moment before paddling over.
     
    Last edited:
    Hengist
    Mentions: Trektek Trektek     ​


    "Ahem" commented Hengist as he awoke from his four hour slumber. He kicked himself out of bed, having not taken off his clothes the night before, and grabbed the cold pot of coffee to the left of him - he always brewed a full pot the night before. It was humid outside. Wondering what was causing that, Hengist threw open the rear windows of the captain's cabin, only to see a wall of white.

    "Fuck"

    The past four days, Hengist had been in recovery mode. His sparring match with Magen did not go well. As intended, he tested her competence and found it to be much in excess of what he expected. Limping as he drank his coffee directly from the pot- something that he had turned into an art form over the past years, he rubbed his still sore back, which had been cracked by one of the robot's metal roundhouse kicks. At least he knew that if there was ever trouble, they wouldn't have to worry about anything. He had spent his time productively, writing memoirs for the trip on his typewriter, embellishing the first few days. He couldn't do that today, however - the humidity of the fog meant he coudln't type or his pages would get moist, and the ship couldn't go anywhere because they couldn't see. Normally, that would be no issue, but since they were sailing through a reef, chances of collision were exactly one hundred.

    Grunting, Hengist realized he was forgetting something. Spinning, he trudged to the map table, and realized a new shape had manifested on the ever-changing map. He didn't recognize it from any previous sea chart - this landmass was undiscovered. It was shapped oddly, like a duck. Hengist grabbed the morphing scroll off the table and headed outside, to find Beaux, Anzium, and Kyriulle outside on the deck.

    "Ah, cooking. Good man" he complimented, without specifying who he was complimenting, as he had no idea who had cooked. He heard Kyriulle say something about low visibility, and having to stop.

    "We'll stop either way, by collision or by decision" Hengist mused, still looking at the map. Even though his eyes were still fixated on the map, he was able to leap over the railings on the raised platform where the captain's cabin was and land soundly on his feet, without paying much attention. Still fixated on the roll of paper, he shook his head, turning it and handing it to Kyriulle.

    "There's an island in front of us. It's shaped like a duck. How stupid is that?" he commented, visibly grumpy from his enduring back pain.

    "Well, we're explorers. I suppose Hammish wouldn't be too happy if we didn't investigate our first undiscovered island" he said, bereft of most of his usual excitement. Hengist frowned, visibly seeing this task as more of a chore than anything else. Hengist kicked a lever to the side of him, which accessed the gear and pulley system that controlled the sails. The sails billowed in the wind as the sails rolled upwards. The ship would continue moving forward from inertia.

    "Would you three mind the anchor? Release it on my mark" Hengist asked, pushing his hands into his back and stretching. He kicked one of the long wooden poles on the deck to its side. As it bounced off the side of the ship and rolled back to him, his foot deftly slid under it and he kicked it upward, grabbing it by his right hand. Walking to the front of the ship, he leapt over the deck, grabbing onto the bow with his left hand while his right hand stuck the pole into the water. He positioned the back end of the pole against the ship so the front end wouldn't be pushed backwards from the water, and waited as the ship coasted slowly forwards.

    It was more than a minute before he said anything - had his hand, still hanging on the bow, not been visible, the crew might have assumed he had drowned. Suddenly, Hengist felt something jerk against his right arm as the pole hit a reef or a sand bank about three meters below the base of the ship.

    "Now!" he yelled, his left arm pulling him up and onto the bow, before he walked back onto the deck. That procedure would allow them to stop at just the right moment, before getting beached.
     
    Magen
    The days moved on by at a steady pace. For Magen, it was like being reinvigorated, traveling on the ocean. She had traveled places in her mercenary line of work, but that had always been on land or across much smaller bodies of water. Nothing of this size and immensity that stretched on for all the eye could see. Even the bodies of water on the mainland that would stretch as far as the horizon, you knew that it came to an almost abrupt end, whereas here, she knew that it could continue to stretch far and wide beyond all that was knowable. The possibilities as to what were out there was endless as were the possibilities of danger to her ship and crew. But it was still this level of exhilaration that kept her busy on these days, being ever vigilante to at least looking out at the beautiful vistas and wonderful horizons.

    To be honest, she was also trying to keep her distance from Captain Hengist. Perhaps in her eagerness to impress the good captain, she might have gone a little tougher than he or she had been expecting. It was incredibly embarrassing and even though she had apologized profusely for that sort of indiscretion on her part, she still felt embarrassed even these days later. Here she was at a moment attempting to impress the man before her, and in the long run, she caused him harm. Granted, he had brushed it off and made it seem as though she had not and that the injuries were far below what she actually inflicted, but she could tell that the good Captain was trying to spare her feelings. She knew though, from her dealings as a mercenary when she had injured someone, it was practically her job.

    Beaux's helper bots really seemed to help around the ship more or less. Magen really just found them cute little companions though. On one of the days, she actually grabbed one and gave it a hug until it wiggled its way out like an animal that didn't want to be held just to be on it's way to doing whatever task it was supposed to be doing. She had to give Beaux credit where credit was due. He was a mechanical wizard of sorts and created wondrous masterpieces. He managed to add on some proper water proofing to her parts on the first day and he continues to peak in on her when he isn't too seasick. She appreciated his kindness and knew what it was like to be different.

    It seemed really that everyone was really trying to stay out of everyone elses way, which considering the size of the ship, was truly an impressive feat. The woman with the wings seemed to just wish to give her distain and the man with the horns just seemed aloof. They really were an eclectic bunch, chosen for their abilities and not for their social skills it seemed.

    Magen woke from her sleep cycle, feeling the general wetness in the air, differing from the wetness that came from being on the sea, it permeated the air. Magen eventually needed rest, not often, but it was more to recharge her systems and give her mind a break. Every once in a while, it was required, but she could stay awake for days on end without a recharge, being ever vigilant.

    She came out onto the main deck, feeling and observing the fog that was all around them. That alone was unusually for her. But she heard and barely saw, the others around her moving about. From, the words that she was hearing from the Captain, they needed to release the anchor. She at least knew where that was and moved into the proper position for lowering on his mark. Then the words came from the Hengist and she dropped the anchor into the water, hopefully helping the ship with whatever was going on.    ​
     

    • ||Fell 18, 3Axx1||
      The expedition departed on schedule and at the time of writing this, we are currently on course for the Escainian Reefs. The ship, named Mercury, is unlike any machinery I have seen before, though because of this I have little means of comparing it. However, I have been assured by Harmmish that it is state of the art, even if the appearance leaves much to be desired. For the records, I have included several diagrams of its features (Refer to figures 1-6. Appendix 1-B).

      My chambers are adequate, but there is still much to do. I put off the organization of my room in favour of restudying the maps and adjusting the course with Captain Blumenthal. While possessing keen nautical skills, I must say he is a rather eccentric man, and I could not help but sense that he was rushing the meeting. Even though we just began the voyage he looked oddly haggard and could swear he was limping. In light of his previous incarceration, this is not comforting.

      NOTE: I returned to my chambers to find some machine pilfering through my desk, rearranging things with wanton carelessness! Unbelievable! I had half the mind to cast the little devil into the ocean! I shooed it from my room and wrote a formal complaint to the resident mechanic. It was left on Beaux's door -- as I could not bring myself to enter the clanking, steaming mess that is the engine room.


      ||Fell 19, 3Axx1||
      The crew is just as peculiar as the Mercury herself. Harmmish gave a brief overview of each individual aboard the vessel, but I will have to extend the biographies when available. Though I dread interrogating the robotic humanoid, constructed in the mockery of a human female. It calls itself Magen. Its mannerisms are pleasant enough, yet behind that porcelain face I detect more sinister intentions.

      This morning I observed what appear to be multiple points of blunt trauma on Captain Blumenthal -- confirming my suspicions from the previous night. Further inquiry led me to understand that Captain Blumenthal and the Magen participated in some sort of duel upon entering the ship. Previous reports and inquiries of his skill (refer to appendix 12-A) support that Blumenthal is an esteemed fighter, yet his skills proved woefully inadequate compared to the Magen. I find this news most troubling. Further observations will be made.

      NOTE: Balance on the ship is proving to be exceedingly difficult, even with the protection granted by the reefs. I dread the larger sea swells yet to come. To improve my balance I have taken it upon myself to practice the same posture training techniques used by library apprentices. Progress is slow due to the chaotic movements of the ship, but one hour of balancing a stack of books should prove fruitful.


      ||Fell 20, 3Axx1||
      Beaux still has not responded to my complaint and the robots are still as much of a pestilence as ever. It is as if they are torturing me, dispersing my books at random should I ever look away too long. There is a possibility they are in league with the Magen. Today I saw her embrace one like a child would to a puppy.

      The other crewmembers do not seem to be bothered by the Magen, but I would not put it past them. Blumenthal has likely seen things like this in his travels or perhaps has more bravery towards it. The blue-haired half-elf is sulking most of the time, and the tiefling is in his room so often I doubt he even knows the Magen is here. Beaux is the only one that minds the Magen, though it is only with strange positivity. He seems transfixed by the machinery of the Magen, though I cannot help but recall the same oafish interest he had for the grass upon our first meeting.

      As a side note, I find it strange that Beaux does not seem to like the water very much. His anatomy is amphibious in nature, sporting many homologies with fishes. Numerous animal-like races exist, including magically-induced alterations of the flesh, but I am at a loss where to place him. While I dare compare him to a siren, that is still woefully incorrect. *in the bottom corner of the text there is a life-like sketch of Beaux, with small labels detailing strange features she has observed. Beneath the sketch is an underlined note saying, "what are you?".*

      There are so many questions I have yet to answer. Even the destination is vague. Vesi, the lost city. There are songs about it, and ancient ramblings of drunken sailors. I scour them all, yet the puzzle remains. How many scholars have asked this same question? How many explorers left at the bottom of the sea in search of this prize? How can we be any different? Will four years be enough when lifetimes were not? I need to reassess. I do not like the roiling waves, but the sea air is quite refreshing. Perhaps a walk shall clear my head.

      The archipelago nears. Based on the current rate of travel I expect we shall arrive at the thickest section of reefs by morning. If there is any silver lining, it will be the brightness of the corals. I will have to take some samples.

      Note: I believe I am getting better at walking around on the ship!
     
    BEAUX & JOD

    TIME CHECK:     Day 4.
    Time: hour 4.5, early morning
    Location: Escainian Reef: Duck Isle. C5, small white island (shaped like rubber duck)
    Weather: full cloud cover, low eerie light makes sunrise indistinguishable. cool but very humid with thick fog.

    Trektek Trektek Juju Juju Cyan Dragon Cyan Dragon Archie Archie TheCrowKing TheCrowKing
    ______________________________________________________________

    Beaux watched as his conversation partner departed as soon as Beaux's own interest turned away from the such lovely pleasantries they were exchanging. Beaux watched as the small fish creature arose from the side of the ship in a bubble that Kyriulle formed. He snickered as it plopped to the deck; funny noise.

    The Captain appeared on deck, immediately ordering around instructions as one should do as a leader. Beaux nodded at the instructions and went back to the anchor, unfastening the ropes and calibrating the mechanism to release the chain down into the unseen waters below. The two anchors on either side quickly caught hold of the beastial roots in the shallow waters under them. Beaux stood no longer with Magen as the ship lurched forward.

    Anziium. Asleep in the crows nest no more. Just milliseconds before the ship lurched forward, Anzi opened his eyes to see a large indistinguishable shadow sitting atop his chest, solid white eyes glowing through the fog straight down at him. He only had a flash, unable to process the shape before his book went flying from his chest, off the next to hazardously slide across the deck, only to slip into the fog of the bow. No splash was heard. As the tiefling recovered from his hurled position at the front of the nest, very luckily caught by a railing pole of the nest, the apparent shadow on him fluttered its great wings and honked. Anzi sat back to see a great, plump white bird with a curved yellow bill, beady black eyes, on the railing of the nest. The bird honked again, tilted its head, then pecked down and tried to pull at Anzi's boot. Its great white wings spanning almost two meters as it pulled at his boot string. The beast gave up after Anzi scolded and kicked at it, honking as it flew, a gust from its flap momentarily clearing the fog around the crow's nest.

    The members on deck that were unsecured flew forward as well. Beaux lost his grip from the chain as the ship collided into a mass of banking roots, nearly missing to damage the hull. Beaux tumbled forward from the side of the ship onto the main deck, landing with an oof as the ship settled into a rest.

    Zephriel. She could barely receive so much as a glance from the Mechanic, as her sentence ended just as "At least you could have the decen-" Before the ship jolted to an anchored stop. The winged female was tossed across the deck. Her light nightgown fluttering in dramatic contrast to her feathers and hair. As she was the least secured and least balanced on deck, the wind and jolt caused the Seraphi to glide through the air before a harsh landing to the wood... The wet, humid wood. She slid across the deck with momentum.

    Beaux sat up quickly from the jolt. He flew not too far not only because of his initial grip on the chain of the anchor, but because of his natural grip of wet surfaces as well. He saw the wingéd lass fly in probably not the way she would have liked. Beaux scrambled up to his feet and well- not really his feet. He stumbled-slash-galloped his way over using his hands to push himself forward. The angel kept sliding, heading towards the edge of the deck and off the side. Beaux scrambled across the wet surface and reached for her, having to leap forward just a half a second before she slipped from the edge. He landed on his stomach, his webbed wet hands wrapped tightly around her outstretched hand before she could fall into the rooted waters.

    Beaux took a moment- a wide-eyed, breathing-heavily moment, staring down into the lapping waters before he gulped and looked back to Zeph. "Yule'right there, lass?" He whispered, his torso heaving from strain and fear. "Tha was quite the flight," He grunted as he pulled her back off the hull and through the railings she so narrowly missed- In fact... Her wing clipped the side of one of the poles... It didn't look too good. Beaux cleared his throat as he helped her to her feet before he nodded and awkwardly patted his thighs and stiffly wandered to the chains of the anchor again.

    The wind momentarily grew stronger. The cloud passed over them, along with the cushion of light and sound it carried. In front of them was a rugged lanscape covered in gnarled roots of thick, dark trees extending only a few metres up. The contorted limbs stretched into and cracked the great mossy boulders beneath them. ABove in the canopy, small but abundant olive-coloured leaves formed a flat canopy; atop the canopy were masses of twigs, dead leafs, other forest debris, as well as feathers and animal fluff. When the cloud left their vision, the sound of hundreds of water fowl congregating and conversing filled their ears.

    The beasts festered among the grounds of the island. All sizes and shapes and colours of the birds ranging from a deep brown to speckled bluish grey to a shimmering green to an extravagantly maned purple and gold. All the birds lived in their own congregations of species, but mingled together in peace. There was an abundance of root and canopy space for nesting, and more than enough glimmering fishes darting between the caves and jungles of coral and roots. Several of the slimmer birds were diving in and swimming after the fish. The ones with the wider and flat beaks were more skilled at that, while the ones with the long, thing, and ridged beaks were spearing through the roots to catch without getting their webbed feet wet.

    The cacophony of honking, quacking, chirping wasn't enough. The whistling wind and lapping waves provided this island with a strange peace.

    The lack of cloud was soon replaced with the thick fog once again, but not before the crew was able to survey the land ahead of them. The terrain was rocky, wet, and covered in uncertain footholds that the trees provided; it proved to be treacherous terrain for one not equipped with a careful balance and cautious step (for not only the slick trunks but of guano covering the ground). Beyond the forests and canopies that surrounded the island's perimeter, was a networks of large caverns that dove deep into the surface. Waterfalls of crystalline purple water drilled deep into the surface where they pooled into viscous baths, unfastened boulders tumbled down from the flat and rocked surface and disturbed the peace below. The same trees that littered the surface snaked their way into the networks, fastening themselves to the crevices of the wall of slick grey stone. Their canopies provided what seemed to be series of olive platforms the way down into the unseen, fog-enveloped subterrane.

    Beaux latched the chains of anchors into place, then returned to the main deck area where the rest of the crew was gathered. "Oi!" He called out with a grin and pointed finger. On the bowsprit sat the large, squat white bird. In its curved bill hung a book. The bird flapped its wings tauntingly, although only to keep balance on the perch of the ship.
     
    Magen
    Time: Early Morning

    The ship lurched forward and even with the stabilizing force that her metallic body possessed and the hunkered position that she had taken while lowering the anchor, she was jolted forward by the sudden stop, landing up against the side of the boat for which she reached her arms around so that she didn't move any more forward than they already had.

    Looking out and about, she could hear the large amounts of honks and quacks and chirps long before she saw them all. They were at an island filled with birds of all types. That was exciting to see. All the different types of bird like wildlife that was surrounding them at this very moment. That was why they were out here, to see everything that the oceans and the islands had to offer. She felt as though she could just reach out and touch the birds, to feel their feathers and probably get nipped out in the process. But she didn't care. Part of her just wanted to explore it all. Besides, with her metal frame, a little nipping by a small bird wasn't going to do much to her.

    Of course, first before she could to do anything, she needed to check on the safety of the crew. She yelled loudly over the din so that the crew would hopefully be able to hear her and respond. "IS EVERYONE ALRIGHT?" She hadn't heard anyone go overboard, so it was unlikely that that had happened. Of course with the noise of the birds, it was still a possibility. The metal woman looked over the side of the boat, just to be certain and then heard Beaux call out.

    Magen looked where he was pointing and noticed the large squat white bird. She held her hands straight out in a disarming and non hostile pose as she started to move forward. "Nice big birdie...."​
     
    BIRD

    Trektek Trektek Juju Juju Archie Archie TheCrowKing TheCrowKing

    The bird thrust its smooth head upward, tossing the fumbling book into the air with its pages flying. The bird caught the book again, the closed spin on the innards of its billed mouth. The bird cocked its head and stared its beady eye towards Magen. It didn't seem alarmed.

    As Magen grew closer, the bird flew up a couple metres or so from its perch, only needing to flap its giant wings twice to gain such height. It hovered there for a few seconds before landing on the figure head of Mercury, the winged messenger, now further out of grasp.

    It might have been the reflection of water, but there was most definitely a twinkle in the birds eye; taunting, jovial.

    The magnificent white bird placed the book down on the figurehead's back with the pages sprawled on the bottom, then the bird began to clean its feathers. The underside of the stark white feathers was a dark black mahogany color.
     
    Zephriel's confusion only grew when Beux appeared to be overcome by some affliction. She couldn't help but stare blankly at the sudden change, her mind trying to find a logical explanation. Beaux soon shouldered past her with all the grace of a drunkard, jarring her wing in the process.

    "Oww! Hey, watch it!" She hissed, though her words seemed to be lost on the fishy man. The mechanic went straight to the railings of the ship -- just about where she had almost fallen -- and keeled over.

    "Tch, what is wrong with him?" Zeph uttered aloud, cradling her broken wing under an arm, fingers digging into the cream-and-peach feathers. In the distance, she heard the Magen call out, but she promptly ignored the robotic.

    "Beaux, if you are suffering from symptoms of seasickness then I must advise you to go on shore to rest. If symptoms persist then I... can... wait-"

    What would have been a lengthy (yet well-intentioned) lecture was cut short when Zephriel noticed the white bird, or more specifically, the prize it held in its beak. She recognized it immediately as one of the books she had brought from the library. Her stomach clenched. How did it get that? That book should be in her room! The question was fleeting, the answer unimportant in such a life-or-death moment.

    Beux forgotten, Zeph stumbled towards the front of the ship, "No! Put that down, you stupid bird!"

    Instinctively, her wings unfurled, ready to take to the air. Unfortunately, in her panic, she had forgotten about her current state. Pain sunk invisible fangs into her wings, rippling beneath her flesh like white-hot lightning. Her run was immediately halted and she could not help but let out a whimper of pain. Wincing, she hugged her wing tightly. It shivered faintly.

    She was forced to watch in horror as the bird flipped the book into the air and placed it down, page-first, onto the figurehead. The Seraphi looked ready to faint and let out an ambiguous cry of distress. The suffering from it somehow seemed worse than her broken wing.

    "G-get that book back! The blasted animal will ruin the pages!" She ordered shrilly, motioning to the others who were waiting around or watching. "Don't just stand there! Do something!"

    Whether it was by her words or not, The Magen appeared to be approaching the bird. Zephriel did not trust a robot with her books, but she had to admit it was better than the avian. Getting the book back was the top priority.

    "Be careful with that book! Don't you dare get any water on it!" She shouted from across the deck.

    bonesbo bonesbo Trektek Trektek
     
    BIRD & BEAUX

    Trektek Trektek Juju Juju Archie Archie TheCrowKing TheCrowKing

    The bird honked arrogantly when Zephriel started to run towards him. He spread his own mass of white wings, revealing dark under-feathers, to his full span of 2 metres in the same manner than Zephriel was.

    He cocked his head when Zeph stopped. Then she gestured, yelling to get the book. The bird placed a taloned foot on one of the covers and reached to the pages underneath with his bill. He made solid, black, beady eye contact with the angel and slowly ripped the grasped page from the book. He straightened his neck with the page in his mouth.

    The bird then gripped the book with his talon and flew up into the air, over the water, needing to flap only once every couple of seconds to stay level.


    Beaux wiped his mouth miserably and looked over to the bird scene. "Oi! Adharcach!" Beaux yelled up to the crow's nest with a flinging gesture, forgetting all about the painful episode he just travelled through. "Help the lasses, ye bastard!" Beaux turned to the front starboard edge and started to unlock several clasps, ones that released steam. More or less, a staircase descended from the deck down to the earth below. It created a mesh metal walkway down to the land- well- at least the roots that started to form a beach. At least once they got down, they wouldn't be in the water. "Oi! Prioc! " The Mechanic looked over to the Captain, where he still stood by the wheel. "Do we be gettin' off here?"

    The bird seemed to register that they were getting off. He flew over to one of the root groundings where they would step from the platform. He took the book into his bill and then carefully dipped it down through the weaving of roots and into the water below.

    Beaux watched this from the deck, smirking to himself, "This laddie dinna like you ver'much, lass."
     
    The book sunk into the water, and at that moment so too did Zephriel's heart. A gripping cold rose up in her chest as if it too had been plunged carelessly in the salty blue. Such injustice! Such ignorance towards a relic of literary knowledge! It felt like a wound, the sense of failure stinging like salt. It was a crime nobody else on this blasted ship would ever understand. Time itself seemed to slow as water welled around the faded yellow title and dug greedily between the pages.

    There was no hesitation in her charge, her body spurred into action by pure instinct. Beaux's cheeky comment towards the bird's disposition went unheard by the young chronicler. He spoke only to a rush a wind as Zephriel raced past him, a look of pure determination burning in her eyes.

    "Cin úan!" she shouted, so angry she broke into her mother tongue.

    Zeph's legs pumped beneath her, carrying her across the deck. She wasn't the fastest runner, and she almost slipped, but purpose drove her forward. On the boat she had been unsteady, laughably clumsy, but the moment her shoeless feet touched the sturdy gangplank a grace seeped into her strides as quickly as ink in water.

    Her broken wing was a hindrance, preventing her from flying, but she wasn't completely earthbound. With a bounding leap, she flapped her one good wing and glided over the twisting roots using her smaller wings for stability. The short flight was dangerously unsteady, almost causing her to nosedive into the roots and rocks, but through fate or stubborness Zephriel managed to successfully land on her mark. She descended upon the bird like a lightning strike. An angry lightning strike of ruffled feathers and pink hair.

    She was furious, spitting the words, "Rac cin-na U'dún!" while attempting to wrestle with the creature.

    Mostly, she was focussed on getting the book away from the beast. It was her top priority, even above the desire to strangle the demonic bird.

    bonesbo bonesbo (aka creator of the evil bird)
     
    Flynyas (Intro and Catch-up)

    The setting bright sun left behind that of just the low red glow to bathe small feet pounding across the grass in the courtyard of the Institute of EP. The small legs to match moved the halfling as fast as they possibly could, which unfortunately for this one, was not very fast at all. One would think a traveler of more than twenty-five years would know how to get somewhere on time, but for this specific traveler, destination was never really his thing. His misshapen hair bobbed in breeze generated by his own movement, briefly revealing deep green eyes that reflected as amber due to the red glow. Rounding the corner of a low brick building a few other souls looked upon him in what could have been amusement or outright confusion; probably both at the sight of a three foot tall hermit, clothed in handsewn leathers and cloth sporting a comically oversized backpack of supplies, who was sprinting at full speed as if he was a schoolboy late to class. As the view of the dock was revealed around the bend, it was missing one very crucial thing necessary to his further progress in this expedition: a boat.

    About two months ago Flynyas received a sealed envelope awaiting him outside of his tent. As he never stayed in one place longer than two months at most and had only been in this specific location but a few days, this startled him, but he was horribly intrigued. Even more intriguing but far easier of a mystery to solve, was that the seal was broken and the interior emptied. Climbing up a nearby pine tree he found what could be assumed to be the contents shredded in to nesting material of a very certain red squirrel. After scolding the creature companion of his, who promptly scolded him back as he removed the scraps claiming to have spent all night getting all of those in just the right place, he slid back down the tree and sat on the ground to entertain himself with this newfound puzzle. After a couple of hours all of the pieces were aligned in their proper place, and he raised his right hand over the mutilated page. A soft green glow emitted between the seams on the wooden ring situated on the mid-finger, echoed by the soon following glow seen between every tear on the page below (Mending Cantrip). Within moments, the page was whole anew, albeit a still a little crumpled. Flynyas stared at it for a solid couple of minutes… upside down. Fortunately, a small human town was within relative hiking distance of his campsite, so it did not take long for him to pawn off an ornate woodcarving of a conch shell in exchange for someone to read the message aloud to him. Upon discerning its meaning curiosity took the best of him and having had nowhere specific to go for longer than he would have liked, why not give this a shot. He always had a drive to seek what could be hidden amongst the still unknown. The campsite did not take long to pack up; convincing aforementioned squirrel ‘Patricia’ to pack up took much longer.

    Flynyas had never truly traveled whilst alone to a particular place. He had traveled with others in the past to such places, but never served the role of navigator. Thus, more often then not he found himself in unexpected places along the way to EP, requiring him to attempt to receive information from any nearby civilization. When Fell 18 rolled around, Flynyas did not arrive until many hours post departure.

    Panting heavily, he reviewed the letter and asked around for a mister ‘Jeremy Hammwich’ before being corrected and led to the elderly gnome. He met briefly with the gentleman who informed him of the general heading of the group but had no means by which to deliver him in such a way to catch up to the group. Flynyas however, had that part handled. He worked his way back to the dock and shouldered off his bag, from which the very concerned squirrel popped out its head, knowing all to well what came next, and quickly hid within. The halfling's stature did not shrink but actually grew as feathers sprouted from flesh and his face elongated into a beak. An albatross now standing where he once stood, grabbed the straps of the bag in its talons and used its massive wingspan to lift into the air. After some struggle the druid in enormous waterfowl form gained stability and began to work his way out over the open water. Days passed and often he had to request the aid of sea life around him to support his body and carry it forward as he slept before returning to the skies again and again before dawn. He hoped desperately the ship had not changed course or that he had not lost his bearing and began to travel longer and longer into the nights. One evening was particularly foggy but he pressed forward knowing he needed to cover more distance each day; he was tired, and visibility was low. Seeming to appear out of thin air, wood met skull and through a series of many other branches in descent his body struck the ground, having returned back to halfling form. For who knows how long, darkness overtook his vision and mind.​
     
    Anziium
    Mentioning:     bonesbo bonesbo Juju Juju     ​

    The lapping of the waves against the ship had been more than enough to lull the tiefling to sleep, the hefty hand of sleep little by little having drawn down his eyelids. It had been fairly peaceful, whereas he had once dreaded boarding the vessel. Perhaps it wouldn’t be so awful if he could continue doing exactly this. Not having looked up from his text, he hadn’t noticed the shadow tailing them from above, only concentrated on the inked words before him. Yes, this was rather peaceful. At least, until Mercury would make her first stop of the journey.

    A light jarring of the ship had awoken the male, earning a grunt of annoyance. He had nearly turned to his side and attempted to dip back into sleep, yet as he had, his slumber-drunk brain registered his surroundings, delivering the message of an unwanted guest in the nest with him. Much rather than it be a crew member coming to join him, it was a weight upon his chest, the shadow of a figure staring at him. One could say he was a bit startled, uncertain as to what or whom was up here with him, but their identity was soon revealed.

    Before him rest a large, white bird, it caring very little as to its intrusion upon his rest. Its intelligent gaze met his, his breath having caught inside his chest at the suddenity of awakening to such a thing. SNAP! The text that had been carefully placed upon his chest, before having drifted off, was suddenly flung from the suspended location, off towards the unknown. Ah, that suddenly had him awake.

    “You s-!!” Before he had had the opportunity to ring its neck for having taken the borrowed item, the back of his head and spine cracked back against the railing of the nest. If he had risen from the flooring a moment sooner, he’d have tumbled towards the deck below. Fortunately for him, he would just suffer light bruising and the beginning of a headache. Hands having shot to cradle the throbbing of his skull, someone seemed to want his attention elsewhere. That damned bird had the audacity to not just throw the book, but to jump up on his again, honking and attempting to steal the laces of his shoes! Of course he was furious, the heel of his leather boots coming into contact with the large water-chicken to keep it at bay. “Look what you’ve done, you disastrous creature! Watch me use your feathers to down my pillow when I get ahold to you.” Anzi snarled from behind clenched teeth, finally exhaling frustratedly once it let him be.

    Down below, it wasn’t much better, so it seemed. A glance over the edge confirmed that the remainder of the crew had went flying as well. It was apparent they had hit a rough patch, but the vessel was now still, leaving her occupants to recover from such an abrupt halt. “I should have figured as much.” The tiefling sighed, carefully beginning to make his way down below to take part of the expected chaos, not that he was much help. Besides, if the journey failed this early, they could all return home sooner. Feet thunking against the wooden deck, he glanced about to view the damage. Ah--well, it seemed as though the arrogant librarian had sustained the worst of it, her wing bent at such an angle that anyone without an understanding of anatomy would know it wasn’t well off. Opening his mouth, as if to say something, he purposefully avoided her gaze, knowing all too well he’d have to face her with the admission that he had lost one of her many beloved works of literature.

    An avian squawking -outside of Zephriel- had his head spinning in the direction of the noise, bronze gaze widening at the site before him. It was that damned bird from above and it had the book in its possession. Zephriel’s book! The tiefling bit his lower lip, cringing as the young woman came to realize that it indeed was hers. I need to retrieve it before something h-- “GODS ABOVE!” He choked, visibly sickened as the creature chose to drag the item around before ripping free a page. Oh gracious, if the waterfowl hadn’t one furious introvert after him, he now had two. Whether Zephriel had noticed or not, the demon-kin had trampled after her, leaping free from the bow of the ship without a secondary thought other than the desire to retrieve the book and repair the damage the bird had done.

    As the other members of the crew had tumbled about the deck, their friendly neighborhood fish ferret had slid straight off into the water. It was such a small splash amongst the chaos that no one really heard such, nor cared. Biel had plummeted into the water, paddling itself up to the surface a few seconds later to peer around. The creature gave no indication that it was harmed, but rather began splishing over towards the guano-coated rocks of the island, only to lift its slimy head at the darkening overhead as the great, white bird coasted over. And let me remind one that Biel isn’t too terribly smart, thinking this to be something to stuff down its gullet. Quickening the paddling of his fleshy legs, he hit the sands of the shore, tumbling into a roll before he stood once more, chasing the winged beast with the intention of monching it.
     
    Magen

    As Magen attempted to approach the bird slowly and cautiously without raising it's alarm in order to acquire that book in it's beak, it moved further out of range. If she didn't know any better, there was a level of intelligence there behind it's eyes that went beyond just a bird level of thought. However, she dismissed those thoughts from her mind. It was her duty to protect the belongings of the crew as well as the crew themselves and she was going to get that book back before it got damaged irreparably.

    She heard Zeph's pleas, if anything was going to get her to treat her as less of an object and more of an actual person, it would be to get that book back. So she made this a high priority task in her mind. And then the bird ripped a page out of the book.

    Oh no.....

    Magen watched as Zeph took off at a blind rage and attempted to go after the bird in a flurry of blows. This would not end well for anyone, she thought. Only in tears. Then, it seemed, Anzi had the same notion about the book. They were all going to get injured in some way, she just knew it and would have to put a stop to it.

    The steam and gear powered woman went after the bird as best as she could. If she could get ahold of either the book or the bird, perhaps she could stop this whole issue from getting out of hand.​
     
    Hengist
    bonesbo bonesbo     ​



    Hengist sighed as the bird appeared and the crew ran after it, trying to retrive the book that it was holding.

    "I don't have time for this..." he muttered, tired, in pain, and miffed by the events of the morning. Whatever the bird was holding was clearly important. Further, a brief survey of the island revealed it to be a confusing, purple-watered, barren, and unpopulated place. Any information that they could get, via reading or dissecting this creature, would be valuable. Drawing his pocket knife, Hengist tossed it upwards, allowing it to fall downwards and be caught between his index finger and thumb. Then, he drew back and hurled it at the bird, spinning, with the intention of skewering it.

    He didn't bother to see where his throw had landed - unless he needed to swim, he would be of no use after having used up his knife. Retreating into the captain's cabin, he took one of the sheets of paper and a charcoal, tracing over the outline of the island as appeared on the magic map. Once they landed on the island, they were going to need to have some way to navigate. It was thirty seconds before Hengist emerged, at which point his stomach was grumbling. He hadn't had his breakfast, and marched towards what had been cooked before.
     
    JOD & BEAUX


    Juju Juju
    Zephriel

    TheCrowKing TheCrowKing
    Biel

    Anziium

    Trektek Trektek
    Magen

    @ zedmo
    Beaux

    Nobody_314 Nobody_314
    Flynyas


    Beaux watched the bird heist from his spot on the deck. He grumbled when he examined the loading plank settle down into the water, and started to walk towards the bow of the boat, the very tip that was above the drier land. He jumped off with intent to land, but he ended up slipping on his sloppy fall, causing a disturbance to some neighbor birds. He started to stand but slipped again on the guano. The third time, he stood up properly with a wide stance, holding his head. He saw something off in the distance along the shore line, and began to walk towards it inquisitively.


    What Zephriel found when she stepped onto land and started to attack the bird, she found her hands empty. She suddenly found her motivation to fight diminish.
    When Anziium grasped the book from it's perch on the slippery root, he found his hands to be empty. He suddenly found his worry and panic diminishing, a peace taking place.
    When Magen stepped from the boat, she went for the bird as well as the Seraphi, she grabbed hold of the wing. But she didn't. Her hand was empty. She suddenly found her urge to protect and serve being replaced by lethargy.
    When Hengist stepped from the boat, he found what he grabbed to be nothing. He threw the bird up but tossed nothing more than his imagination up, though he saw and felt the illusion of the bird.
    When Beaux fell from the boat, he fell down again. When he stood up again, he found his curiosity overpowering- well his curiosity is usually his main emotion so not much changed. Except, more than his memories of his past came into a fog. Recent events on the boat suddenly became concealed by a fog.


    The assaulters of the bird found their hands empty, so did Anziium. A male voice cleared his throat, "Pardon me," There was a flurry of feathers as the bird disappeared.

    All the members of Mercury found their attention drawn by a very enthralling, alluring, enticing, and attractive man. A man? Just a couple of seconds ago, he was not there, but now the bird was gone?... Was the bir- no... That troubling though was discarded from all members as if they never thought of it. All they wanted to do was hear what he had to say, - Oh, he flashed them a grin - All they wanted to do was follow him wherever.

    The man wore a swallow-tailed white three-piece suit. The suit itself was stunning, beautiful, crisp, and clean; however, a black silk lining could be seen from the tails of his coat and glances of the sides. The vest he wore had silver paisley woven into it, and a silver chain hung across his torso, indicating an equally magnificent silver watch hidden away in a silk-lined pocket. On his lapel, he wore two white feathers pinned with a sort of red swirling gemstone. His shoes were black and white oxford style; they were spotless. The man wore white gloves, which he was now removing as he cleared his throat the first time, he folded them neatly and placed them to an inner jacket pocket. The pristine holiness of his suit was greatly contrasted with what he covered. His skin was clear, smooth, rich and deep mahogany brown; he was a perfect height, had a perfect body build. His white hair was perfectly formed, nothing out of place, tightly wound and linking with a groomed beard. ((Basically Chadwick Boseman's hair/beard if you want a face claim)). He smiled at his guests, exposing perfect, pearly teeth. His eyes, however, were solid black, beady, cold, a swirling mist almost trapped within.

    The most peculiar thing about this man was not how he kept his gorgeous outfit pristine on this mucky island, but the symbol on his forehead. ((Pictured. black and red design)). The tattoo was etched into his forehead with white and red ink by the most delicate hand. Lacing lines swirled and almost dripped into an image on his head. When he removed his gloves, similar tattooed swirling patterns were seen across the back of his hand, extending to his middle finger, which bore red-gemmed rings that matched the pendant on his lapel.

    "Pardon me," The man spoke with a smile as he removed his gloves. "I apologise, I required a way to entice you to our magnificent home here. I do so greatly apologise for my treatment of your shoe and book- I lose my head sometimes when I'm of my other form." He gave a hearty chuckle. His voice was deep, warm, magical, and filled with honey. His laugh was a deep chortle, slow and hearty. Suddenly, the ruined book was being turned over in his manicured hands. Almost in an unseen flash, the book looked brand new, pristine, untouched by any hands. "Cin'n gar rúth. Madame. Juė h-enithist." He approached her with a quiet step, his hand outstretched with the book.

    As he approached, he brought a warmth with him as he was radiating comfort and tranquility. He smiled to Zephriel, took her hands, and placed the book gingerly into it, then clasped her hands within his over the book. "Welcome, my Lady. You have the most exquisite wings. It is such a shame that your beauty had been damaged. You are Seraphi? Suilad. We are not too different, you and I." As he held her hands, his warmth spread through her body and she suddenly felt nothing but wanting to curl into a nap with the lull of the wave in the background. Her mind suddenly became distant; she could not remember how she got here, she had no memory of Mercury, she had no memory of her pain or quabbles with the crew. But that was no concern, she wanted to stay here forever. The man released her hands and took her wing, his red rings shimmered for a moment in the bright sun as her wing was suddenly healed. She was filled with peace.

    The man laughed and backed away, "Where are my heavenly manners? My title is Caywood Black. I am the Arch for "Infinite" before your humble grace. We welcome you to our Isle." The man performed a deep bow with his arm flourishing in front of him. He pronounced Infinite as in-finite, as if they were two separate words.

    Hengist discovered that his memories- real or fiction, were slowly being concealed by a fog. Although, he turned and quickly walked from the island. Caywood’s head jerked towards him, his warm demeanor vanishing. The symbol on his forehead turned a brighter red, and the outline of an eye((seen in dark blue in the pic)) blinked over the white dot in the center. As soon Captain Blumenthal stepped foot off the island onto the dock with one foot, Caywood extended his right hand, his ruby ring glowing. When both feet were off the island, Caywood snapped his fingers and there was no more Blumenthal: he disappeared into a puff of feathers.
    In Blumenthal’s place was a bird, stout, brown and white, with webbed feet. The bird made a honk, opening its short beak in disapproval before it waddled off the dock onto the island. He ruffled his feathers and joined the rest of the island, his mind empty but filled with a duck’s thoughts.

    The crew’s minds slowly forgot that event; and then, they forgot Blumenthal all together. There was no Captain, there never was, they started their quest without one. Blumenthal never existed in their minds.

    Caywood cleared his throat and returned to his normal “human” state, replacing the smile and fixing his jacket.. The ease once again came over the crew; what they saw wasn’t real, just a dream locked away in some far away foggy island. Caywood then extended his hand to Anziium, who was still crouching. "Are you alright? I apologise for my attack of you earlier." The man flashed his charming smile. He held Anzi's hand as he helped him stand, then shook it as they stood eye to eye. Anziium's mind went blank. He was entranced by this man smiling towards him. Memories of his family, his journey, covered by a fog. That confusion was replaced by a desire to get to know this man- this magical and attractive man, to learn all about him and his magics. He forgot about the ship, his letter, his feud with Zephriel.

    Magen discovered that her drive to complete her quest was being disintegrated, her mind too, being shrouded by a fog. She was filled with sloth.

    "Ahh. Hello there-" Caywood turned his attention to the ferret thing. He reached down and Biel scurried up his arm to his shoulder, immediately liking this man. Caywood smiled and held something to Biel's mouth, giving him a suddenly appeared snack.

    ---

    Beaux stumbled his way from his landing spot on the beach over to the figure he saw laying on the ground across the shore. Without thinking, he put his red-tinted goggles on, hoping it would help him see through the fog. Beaux surprisingly didn’t have too difficult time seeing through the fog, not as much as the others… He was used to dust storms and murky wate-

    Beaux’s mind was concealed in the fog that covered the island, but his mind was always in a fog. He grew closer to the figure, then discovered it was alive, sleeping perhaps. Beaux looked around to see if there was a boat or- but why would there be a boat?

    “Oi.” Beaux mumbled. He picked up a loose rock and gently tossed it in the direction of the figure.


    ~~ insert space here for smaller conversation between the two before they go to the rest of the group. Either on discord tab or here ~~


    Beaux rejoined the group with the new- old? New? Member of their crew. He stood by the crew and the man as he started. Beaux was in a pleasant state of unknowing, meanwhile, Flynyas stood, confused not by the fog but everyone’s lack of motivation. What he could see from his crew, is that everyone’s pupils were glazed over with a whiteness within them.

    The island was covered in a thick, humid breeze as a cloud passed over them. Mercury was concealed, unseen. A cloud remained over it, permanently. But it's okay. None of the crew seemed to care about the boat, much less remember the boat.

    "We are surrounded by friends here-" He gestured around him to all the birds among them, including the new one of the flock, Biel still on his shoulder. They carried on with their lives. "But more friend welcome us below in the Hot Springs of In-Finite. Would you care to join me to our splendid, secretive resort?" He opened his arms with a welcoming gesture and started to walk through the forest. Although, everyone felt compelled to follow him. There was no physical nor mental resistance. A resort?

    Caywoodtat.jpg
     
    Last edited:
    Magen

    This was it. She was just about to grab that bird and put an end to it's tomfoolery, getting that book back before some member of the crew managed to get hurt in the process. She was so focused on her task that she hadn't noticed the others being affected by the spell, not at least until it was too late, and by then, she didn't care.

    Magen was not immune to this kind of magic. She might be a machine, but she was a machine imbued with a soul, as her sister before her. It was a technique that her father did. Giving true life to machines. The down side in this instance was that whatever mental magic was being performed affected her just as well as it affected everyone else and gave her no sort of protection from the sort. Not that in her current state of mind would she have even noticed.

    Magen's hand went right through the bird's wing and then she felt as though she didn't want to do anything. She seemed to just want to do nothing at all. What was she even doing. It couldn't have been very important if she had forgotten it though. Just a small tidbit of unimportance within the confines of her mind and position. But she just thought it would be the best thing to just sit around and enjoy the environment of this island. It looked nice. Maybe just sitting down would do her a world of good. Get some relaxing in. It felt like she hadn't done so in a long time.

    Before she could take a seat though, a man appeared, a very attractive one at that. Even through her new found lethargy, something stirred within her, even if she could not find the energy to act upon it. Her gears turned a little bit faster and she felt just the slightest bit warmer. He was a very handsome fellow and she was not immune to those charms.

    That smile just made her melt. It was so disarming and made her want to follow him to the ends of the earth. Whatever he wanted would be his. Yes. She would give him the world. She looked at his eyes, the magical energies flowing in them with various swirls and sighed. They were beautiful and handsome at the same time. If she were in her right mind, she would have recognized the inherent dangers to this situation, but she was not in her right mind. She couldn't even really bring up the energies to speak out loud as though she were losing all motivation for just about anything.

    That name was indeed heavenly. In fact, everything about him was perfect and she was looking forward to staying on this island. It was home. Yes. Home indeed.

    A flash of jealously as soon as Caywood began to pay attention to Zephriel but quickly went through her and was soon put out. The lethargy taking further hold of her. She just felt so tired and her limbs felt heavy as though she had gone far too long without having the necessary rest that she needs to have every few days or so.

    Magen looked over at Blumenthal as he puffed into a pile of feather and oh look, there is a bird. What a nice bird. There has always been a bird on this island of birds. Yes, that makes sense then. What a very loud bird.

    The mechanical woman decided that now would be the best time to sit down. She was feeling heavier and heavier so that rock looked like a nice place to stop and rest for a while. The fog was pleasant and she could feel her mind just drifting away as she sat there, almost as though a statue in a museum, unmoving, looking out at Caywood.

    She would have stayed there forever and eventually rusted due to the humidity and moisture, becoming a statue for real. But Caywood beckoned them forward to a resort. She rose from her position, no concept of time or thoughts of her own, only a sluggishly moving mechanical woman who was at the ebck and call of this magical man.​
     
    Flynyas​

    It is uncertain how many hours Flynyas had been unconscious, but as morning drew over the horizon, warm light spilled over his body and roused him awake. Ah, another beautiful day to meditate, practice some healing on any local fauna, or perhaps indulge in some carving. He laid there with his eyes shut, feeling the ground beneath him and taking in the warmth of the sun whilst feeling the ground beneath him. The…. Slimy roots… beneath him… He had never used this as bedding before!

    “Oi”

    As everything came rushing back as to where he was, Flynyas shot open one eye to the sound of someone beckoning. Just in time to see the rock that proceed to bounce off of his head. Fortunately, the toss was light, minor bruising at the most would ensure but nothing that couldn’t easily be treated. The middle aged, yet still more than spry, halfling shot to his feet and took a step back; his hands were held in front of him, the ring he bore glowing green but with a reddish undertone as crackling flame flashed in to existence within his palm (Produce Flame). A fuzzy flash sprung from his bag at the commotion and assumed a stance next to him, spitting with her tail fluffed out and poised to spring in the stranger’s direction, having meant to serve as guard… but fallen asleep in the process.

    “Who are you, and where am I?” Flynyas demanded from the figure before him. His voice was boyish in tone, similar to many other male halflings who never really sported deeper chords, however in this instance it still carried a tone of warning.

    With any immediate ill intent done away with the answering of this information, the flame was dispelled with the closing of his hand and Flynny cautiously stepped forward to meet Beaux. Once he discerned that this was a member of the crew he was attempting to rendezvous with, Flynny called off the attack squirrel and walked with Beaux to meet up with the others, opting to talk along the way rather than burn time at his crash-landing site.

    However, the site that met Flynyas’ eyes when he saw the crew through the last few remaining trees was not at all what he expected. The eyes are a window to the mind and soul, and their eyes were as cloudy as the fog that swept through this island. Having never seen a “merfolk” looking sort before, Flynny had assumed the glassiness of Beaux’s eyes was a result of being out of water, but as Beaux moved into the clearing to conform along with the others, Flynyas carefully took a step back. He retreated a few paces deeper into the trees. Something was wrong… horribly wrong. He hoped Beaux was preoccupied with the others, or the mysteriously dapper man who seemed to be addressing them, as he hid amongst the foliage to observe. When the man beckoned them to follow, Flynyas took the form of a common pond duck to follow from the nearby trees, using the numerous other surrounding waterfowl as a means to hide within numbers. The difference in his transformation compared to that of others seen thus far, is that his was fully willing (Animal Shape), as fortunately he still seemed to still have his wits about him.

    Patricia was left in charge of his larger bag that he was unable to carry with him in this form, which was stowed within a crevice woven of the sprawling roots. He knew for certain that he would return with his snacks all but devoured but had little other choice at the moment as he took to the canopy.
     
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