Fantasy Rifts [IC][Closed]

[demytra]

PLAYERS
From Left to Right:
Arnas - demytra
Aelestra - Beann
Fraskia - Breadman
Terrence Halforth - Chaos Gallant
Vera - Oreo Cookie
Edoardo Vargas Melcher - Worthlessplebian
Reece Cobalis - Vexumin
TBD​

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This RP is a partially closed game, without active recruitment currently. However if you are interested in, shoot me a message through RPN messages or on Discord (joshuadim#4836 is my tag, you'll have to add me first before messaging). I'll see what I can do to get you in and answer any questions you might have!

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PREFACE

Under the reign of the sun, the children of old have long prospered and built an empire to lord over the doings of the world. Much to the envy and admiration of other races, the Elves have led the so-called Helion Age into a time of great power, influence, and growth. Led by their goddess Méné, the sun has never set upon the Tirai Empire with her radiant embrace. Yet the time of the elves, unbeknownst to them or the world at large, is coming to an end. For a great calamity came upon the world with the arrival of the Rifts, and all that they entailed to reshape the world.

Twenty years prior a man cursed to live forever found a way to end his life and thus, by breaking what had been placed upon him, broke the very fabric of reality with but a stroke of his hand. The dead have arisen from their graves, otherworldly creatures have ventured from beyond into the world, and entire realms have been thrown into disarray as a consequence. A new order is rising from the crumbling of the old, pushing the world to a new age. Yet the High Elves, as stubborn and arrogant as they are, hold onto the vestiges of their empire.

As the sun begins to wane on the Tirai Empire, a great darkness begins to rise to coincide with it. Unknown to all, the shadows of a rift long past have begun to manifest. With it, a greater will arises to undo the mistakes of its creator for its own vision of existence at the cost of everything.
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RULES
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1. Be nice and courteous to one another as players. I will not tolerate any conflicts.
2. No powergaming or metagaming.
3. This is primarily a PvE game with exceptions made for PvP should both parties involved agree to it.
4. If you become inactive, I will take control of your character for a time. If you intend to return I will keep them around, but otherwise they will be written out of the story in one way or another.
5. As the GM, I am the god of this world and I can change or implement new rules or ideas on the fly when suited.

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[demytra]

The Grystalian Desert, Argos
20 Years Ago

Hot sand streaked across the surface of vast dunes, the landscape an ocean of red-orange minerals barraged with the heat of the morning sun. The occasional sandstone cropped up from the surface to blemish the otherwise smooth and featureless landscape, giving some semblance terrain. A harsh, inhospitable place for most living beings save for the few that had carved out a meek existence. A desert sandskipper, a hardy and small lizard, crawled out of its refuge within one such large stone on the landscape to bask in the sun’s heat. Hunger was on its simple mind, as it prepared for another day of hunting to satiate its needs. Blood sufficed as water, and flesh sufficed as a meal, from the smaller creatures that were distantly scattered across its surface.

Yet as it sat with eyes closed, embracing the heat entering its body, the loud shuffling of sand being dragged by feet quickly alerted it. A cloaked figure, naught but skin and bones underneath, traversed past the rock without a care but to the worry of the small creature. It could not comprehend anything other than fight or flight as it scurried back into its den. It could also not understand what was about to transpire as well. Cursed with everlasting life, and doomed to never die, the figure strode across the blazing desert to seek an end to his suffering. Death had never come no matter how hard he had tried, whether it was by throwing himself from a cliff to the rocks below, nor by waiting to starve, nothing had worked. The Goddess’ binding would not let him leave this mortal plane.

But through his despair and torment, whispers came to him in his dreams and beyond that promised salvation. A release from this cruel, undeserved punishment which had been placed upon him. He need only find the right reagents for the ritual, rare and near impossible to obtain: the blood of an eldwurm, fiercest and greatest of the dragon. The fang of the eldbeast, cunning and elusive and the ender of hunters. And the heart of a greater treant, connected greatly to life itself and wise beings. Fortunately for him, he had all the time he could ever want in the world. Patiently, he waited and bided his time. Spurred on by such tantalizing promises, he had felled a greater treant and ripped out its life, its sap covered heart to be consumed. An eldbeast he had slain, trapping it and claiming what was his by butchering its head. Its fang needed to be covered with the eldwurm’s lifeblood, which he had stolen as it slept deep in its lair.

Here. Here is where it shall be done. The voice whispered once more, beckoning the figure to halt. All around him there was not a single sign of civilization, and he was truly alone. But he did not know why he had been brought here. The ley lines all coalesce here… this will be door you open with the key. He could only nod as he shuddered with anticipation, as he could practically taste what he had sought after for so long. He collapsed to his knees and unfurled his sack to prepare his ingredients. The eldbeast’s fang he coated with the eldwurm’s blood, and the fang sizzled as it contacted with another potent reagent and vibrated ever so slightly as it greedily drank the liquid into its pores. He placed the fang onto the sand next to him and pulled out the heart of the greater treant. Sap continued to pour of slowly from its arteries, and where should be flesh was instead translucent, amber cellulose. It was about as large as his own head, yet he need to consume it. And so one bite after another he greedily consumed it, sap continuing to flow out onto his hands, face and onto the ground below.

Now… do it. DO IT. FREE YOURSELF. The voice beckoned once more, growing with intensity. RELEASE YOURSELF FROM YOUR MORTAL COIL! The figure spared a glance at the eldbeast fang once more, now smoking as the eldwurm blood continued its reaction. Its power radiated now, and he could feel something stir within his own flesh as well. Being so close to this, after having consumed the treant heart, meant that this was meant to happen. With a shaking hand he grasped the fang and held it in front of him. Power surged from within, almost overwhelming him as he doubled over and clutched at his chest. It was searing, agonizing pain that was unlike anything he had ever felt before and he could feel it continuing to grow like a tumor.

Struggling to sit up straight, he breathed in heavily as he lifted his hands above his head, grasping the fang and shuddered once more before plunging it into his chest. Immediately, he coughed up blood from his mouth as his heart was pierced, yet something was different this time. He could feel death beginning to embrace him quickly, his body beginning to crack and break as if it were dust and ash. “Eternal bane… that love… forever… binds.” He sputtered in between labored breaths, before pushing the blood-soaked fang all the way through his chest.

Within an instant, his body was completely and utterly destroyed, his soul rent asunder and sent to the sweet oblivion which it had craved. And yet, it also shattered the world. From where his body had been, a great hole in reality appeared as if a mirror had been shattered. Webbed cracks appeared throughout the land that spread outwards for a distance, the landscape immediately warped from the energies that coalesced. The veil between worlds had been broken.

---

Now,
Near Ember, The Free Territories, Ergos
12 Jain, 2290 First Era

A young man sat still in the reeds of the stream, the waters flowing gently around his feet as he remained as silent and still as he possibly could. He wanted to get an upper hand at his quarry, and thus needed the element of surprise as well as a distraction. A goat tied to a nearby tree close to the bank would suffice as it chewed on the grass beneath its feet and occasionally bleated. The beast had been menacing local livestock for some time now and had grown accustomed to hunting such easy prey. Having pooled some coin together the farmers decided that enough was enough and had hired him to deal with it. He had waited for nearly two hours at this point, but there was no sign of the beast anywhere.

But suddenly, the waters shifted nearby as the reeds elsewhere swayed. A low grumble could be heard nearby as a massive creature slithered out from the shallows nearby. A basilisk showed its bared teeth as it clambered closer to its prey. The goat quickly began to panic and bleat aloud yet could go nowhere as it was tied to the tree. The creature’s attention was fixated on its inevitable meal, which provided an opening for the young man to strike. He rushed out of his hiding spot and dashed towards the basilisk with a sword in hand.

He wanted to end this quickly before it had a chance to react, but as fate would have otherwise it was not meant to be. His steel could only pierce so much of its thick hide as it quickly turned and smashed into his side with his tail, sending him flying back on his back and crashing into the waters nearby. He felt blood form in the top of his mouth as he cried out from the pain, his armor had taken a decent amount of the impact but he would still be feeling the bruising later on.

He scrambled back to his feet quick enough to dodge the basilisks next strike as it lunged at him and attempted to bite his leg. Lunging once more, this time drawing a dagger, he leapt atop the creature’s back and stabbed at it repeatedly, trying to get through its protection but failed as the beast floundered and shook itself violently get throw its assailant off. The young man realized quickly that he had to change his tactics as his grip began to slip. In a split moment decision he buried his knife into the creature’s eye, causing it to roar out in pain as it finally managed to swing its assailant loose, sending the man tumbling into the water again.

With the advantage now his as the creature was distracted with the immense pain it was now experiencing, he quickly scrambled on his hands and feet to gather his sword again and moved in for the killing blow…

An Hour Later...

The young man strolled into the village atop a horse that had been lent to him by one of the townsfolk of Ember for this job, with the creature’s head hanging from the saddle. He himself looked completely disheveled and worn out from the encounter but had returned with his life. And in tow, he also carried what would bring him his reward for a job well done. Some of the townsfolk that were up and about in the late afternoon paid attention to the return of the young mercenary who had taken residence in the tavern these past few weeks and some marveled at the beast’s head that he dragged with him.

His horse stopped in front of the tavern, which made him lazily dismount and grab the head of the beast before heading inside. The First Post inn was empty save for the innkeep and a lone drunk that was asleep with his head down on the counter. Business was always slow in the sleepy town of Ember, but enough money flowed to keep the doors opened. The innkeeper himself, an older and gruff man, nodded to the mercenary as he set the basilisk’s head atop the counter. “Arnas, good hunting today I see.” He commented aloud, “The farmers’ll be mighty pleased to hear the news. Though… looks like you took quite a thrashing yourself, eh?”

“Yeah…” Arnas replied, gripping his side as he took a seat, “I’ll need more ale than usual.” He then grimaced as another wave of pain shook his body from the massive bruising, “Oh, and some stew as well.”

“Aye.” The innkeeper replied as he turned his attention to a path that led further back into the establishment. The faint clambering of pots could be heard that was suddenly silenced by the barkeep’s voice: “Bella! Need an order of stew out front!”

A few moments later, a young lady about the same age as Arnas hobbled out of the kitchen and gently placed a bowl in front of him before quickly scurrying off back to her work for the evening. Shortly after, a large mug of ale was set as well as its foam at the top bubbled softly. “Thanks.” Arnas managed to get out as he took a wooden spoon and began to eat greedily. He savored the taste as its warmth comforted his aching body, and was then contrasted by the cold ale that poured down his throat.

“And here’s your pay for the beast, as promised from the notice board.” The barkeep then said, placing a small pouch nearby as well. Arnas took and counted the coins, finding all of them there and sighed. Just a bit closer to his goals, but he would also need to pay for room and board tonight as he fingered around to snatch a few. He was stopped however by the barkeep’s own words: "Don’t. You’ve done enough work here to earn a night’s rest. No need to pay.”

The words came as a bit of a surprise to Arnas as he removed his hand from the pouch, but he welcomed the boon nonetheless. Less gold wasted on expenditures was more gold for paying his initiation fee to the Golden Company. He chuckled as he returned to his food and drink: “Thanks old man. Really.”

Elsewhere in and around Ember, newcomers were arriving to settle in as the dusk approaches the land. Travelers from realms afar, all with their own goals and missions, are drawn to the only inn within the small town for rest and whatever else they might need.

 

[Breadman]

The road was long and hard, but she could feel it coming to an end. Everything ached from the horse ride, from her shoulders to her feet. Especially her backside. A stop at an inn was desperately needed. Fraskia looked at the signpost to know where exactly she was. 'Ember, huh?' She squinted at the sign and then to a parchment she took out from her bag. The elder knights asked her to look into the small village, so there was no way for her to refuse such a request. She had no idea it would take her though such a trek and now she cursed under her breath.

The village itself looked rather unremarkable. Buildings, people and a busy market. Nothing new or old out of the ordinary. The knight dismounted and started walking around after she led her horse to the nearest inn. She really couldn't tell why this place was of a concern until she noticed the job postings. Among the usual requests and pleas for day to day work, she spotted a number of jobs far beyond the rest. 'Monster infestation. Of course.' She sighed 'At least I wont be bored.' Fraskia turned away from the post and headed straight inside the inn. Work was going to be done regardless, but she wasn't going to do it on an empty stomach.

Once inside she took off the helm to reveal her face to anyone she would speak with. For now it would be the innkeeper.

"Evening, innkeeper." She spoke with a thick northern accent "I've been ridding for days and am in desperate need of a room." She lifted one hand halfway while holding a coin purse. The insides jiggling and making an inviting clink. "I've got the coin for it."

 

[demytra]

Both Arnas and the innkeep, Jorah, turned their attention to the newcomer as it was a stir of new activity in the establishment. Immediately, she was greeted by the man's gruff voice as he wiped a mug clean in his hands with a towel: "Aye, and coin gets you room upstairs. Welcome to the First Post Inn traveler." he spoke as he set the mug down and looked her over, "Not often we get a northerner down in these parts these days." The comment brought Arnas' curiosity out as he returned his gaze to the innkeep with a cocked eyebrow. Jorah noticed this and shrugged, "The whole business in Merish makes traveling the roads down south mighty dangerous. War makes banditry a plague to those on the road." Arnas swallowed his spoonful of stew that had been in his mouth as he returned his attention to the traveler that had arrived and nodded to her.

"I don't recognize the accent though, its much... stronger than from, say, Leasir or Longard?" Arnas then asked aloud, "If I may ask ma'am, where are you from? That is if you don't mind." He didn't want to offend her right off the bat.

 

[Breadman]

"Strathgarde." Fraskia answered the other patron as she turned her head to face him. "That's where I was found at least. I'm from castle Vrana myself, you see. Its somewhere further north in the middle between Roth, Longard and Strathgarde, so you hear the mutt accent of all three." She paused to give the stranger besides her a better look. He seems capable and not like the usual lowlifes that hang around places like this with weapons. "And who might you be?"

 

[demytra]

Arnas listened as Fraskia explained the origins of her accent with interest, although he personally did not know much about Castle Vrana or the region that entailed her origins. He nodded and gave off a soft smile, "I see. Never been to Strathgarde, though I have come across plenty of folk from that area. Castle Vrana is also something I've heard of, but unlike the others I've never actually met someone from there before." He then raised his mug and took a quick swig of the cold brew. "I'm Arnas. Hired hand and occasionally..." he then spoke once asked for his name, turning his gaze towards the basilisk head atop the bar counter that he had gathered from earlier today. Its blood had coagulated by this point, but occasionally it dripped remnants onto the floor every so often. "Occasionally, I am a spontaneous beast hunter."

"And you?" he then asked Fraskia, tilting his head slightly.

 

[Breadman]

"Fraskia." She responded to his question. "A fellow hunter, but of a different kind. Knights belonging to the Order of Subotnik are not one to freely join conflicts brought on by the hand of man, less we invite reprisals on our heads. But even our neutrality draws the ire of select kings." She shrugged with indifference. "I doubt a man like yourself hasn't dealt with the petty whims of the high-born, but enough about them."

"Beasts and monsters tend to multiply if left unattended and they cause too much trouble for everyone. Our order is one that tries to combat that when possible and help settlements be more self reliant, but the Merish tripe has made it harder for us to keep things in order near out own keep, let alone cast a wide net." She was talking while observing the basilisk head. Decent job for a mercenary. "Otherwise these things wouldn't be as much of a trouble for the locals."

"Good job, by the way. These things can claw through the dozens."

 

[demytra]

"Fraskia." She responded to his question. "A fellow hunter, but of a different kind. Knights belonging to the Order of Subotnik are not one to freely join conflicts brought on by the hand of man, less we invite reprisals on our heads. But even our neutrality draws the ire of select kings." She shrugged with indifference. "I doubt a man like yourself hasn't dealt with the petty whims of the high-born, but enough about them."

Our order is one that tries to combat that when possible and help settlements be more self reliant, but the Merish tripe has made it harder for us to keep things in order near out own keep, let alone cast a wide net.

Jorah grunted as he set down another clean mug and moved to the next with his towel, shrugging at Fraskia's words. "Highborn brats fighting over who gets the Merishian throne is a tale as old as time itself." he commented regarding the situation in the neighboring realm, "Its also been driving bandits and deserters out into our lands here, causing trouble for honest folk making a living here. Our militias usually keep them in check, but some fall through the cracks... hopefully you didn't come across any such lowlifes on your travels here."

Arnas himself shook his head and laughed at the idea of having to deal with one from the nobility. "Gods no! I don't think any noble would deign to even notice me no more than I would notice the dirt on my boot. Besides, I rather like speaking to the townsfolks and farmers wherever I go. Got more in common with them than someone who wears gold and velvet." He was a bit taken aback by Fraskia's compliment as he looked at the basilisk head quickly before looking back at the lady.

"Oh, thanks! I think I got lucky if I'll be honest, hunting beasts like that is certainly not my forte." Arnas replied with a chuckle, "The tail swipe hit my side, and its jaws nearly caught me more than once. I'm sure you would've had an easier time than me." He shifted in his seat as he wondered what to ask next, before settling on probably the obvious that he was most interested in: "What's the most dangerous beast you've hunted?"

 

[Beann]

In order to grow in reputation, the Brotnaheimr Monastery decided to select a few of their monks to travel outside of Strathgarde and spread the word of their teachings across Ergos. Their teachings mainly revolved around the idea of acceptance and regrowth, taking in widowed wives, disabled civilians, and anyone else that were considered ‘rejects’ to society. Considering Aelestra had been with the monastery for a couple of years, it came to her as no surprise that she was selected to travel across Ergos. As opposed to the typical clerics that shouted verses and other unusual jargon in town squares, the monks operated through selfless actions — feeding the poor, assisting farmers, and any other job requests. They didn’t expect any form of payment but donations were always appreciated, allowing them to eat and rest in comfortable inns.

Having been away from the monastery for about a month and a half, Aelestra had grown somewhat accustomed to the idea of being a wandering traveler. It was pleasantly quiet most of the time and she was able to enjoy most scenic views without interruptions. Of course, there were always the rare cases of bandits or thugs that wanted to take advantage of a seemingly defenseless traveler but she had yet to encounter anything too challenging.

She let out an inaudible sigh as she unfurled a map, a current one of the Free Territories that she had picked up before leaving the Kingdom of Merish. Assuming she didn’t get turned around somehow, she should be nearing Ember. The sky had quite a bit of daylight left so she wasn’t too worried but camping out on the road was definitely not preferred. On the bright side, the weather here was considerably warmer compared to the weather in Strathgarde — the roads were softer too, allowing her to travel with light clothing and footwear.

After walking for about fifteen to twenty minutes, Aelestra could finally see the outline of a town —- what she assumed was Ember. More importantly, she could see a wooden wagon not too far off down the road, and as she continued to walk, she realized the wagon was stopped in place. Or rather, was stuck in place, noticing that the back left wheel seemed to have broken as she approached.

Terrence looked up from the wheel he’d been inspecting, trying to see if it was within his realm to repair. He quickly took notice of Aelestra, the road had been quiet all day, and she was the first person he’d seen in hours. Waving at her approach he called out to her hoping to get some help, “I don’t suppose I could interest you in helping a stranded merchant push his cart to town.” He smiled, gesturing with one hand to the wagon’s broken wheel, and putting his other on his hip.

“Oh, I’m no stinge either, you’ll be fairly paid for a full day’s work if you’re willing.” Reaching into the back of the wagon and shaking a bag of coins.

Aelestra stared at the tall merchant for more than what could be considered an appropriate amount of time. She then turned her gaze to the outline of the town ahead of them, then up to the sky, and then finally to the broken wheel. So long as the merchant was helping push the wagon too they shouldn’t have any problem arriving before nightfall. She didn’t mind offering her help for free either but since he had already made payment an option, she wasn’t going to say no — or rather, she couldn’t. Not directly anyway.

With a simple nod, she pulled the hood of her cloak back to reveal long, white hair and unusually vibrant green eyes. Taking a few steps forward, she positioned herself behind the wagon and motioned for the merchant to ready himself in the same manner.

“Right to it then, I love a good work ethic. My name’s Terrence of the Halforth family by the way. Let me just get the boys moving, we shouldn’t have to push much, just need to level out the back end so we don’t lose the other wheel.” Terrence said, walking up to the front of the wagon to get the horses moving, before walking back to the rear and lifting up the side of the cart. “Good thing it isn’t raining, we’d be stuck for sure.”

Aelestra nodded once again, this time in acknowledgment of his name. She had heard of the name Halforth a couple of times. Where? She couldn’t exactly remember but considering their situation, her best guess was a somewhat notable merchant family. Once the horses started to move, she helped Terrence in lifting the back left of the wagon. She couldn’t help but wonder what exactly the man was transporting as most of it was covered but given the unique smells she was catching occasionally, she figured it was something related to food.

As the cart started to move forward with the horses doing most of the work, she tilted her head up to the sky at Terrence’s observation. There were a few clouds in the sky but not enough to forecast rain, good thing indeed. Had this wagon broken down in her homeland, the chance of rain was far greater which surely would have been unfortunate for Terrence. Aelestra turned her gaze back to him and nodded in agreement, it was admittedly a nice day.

“Not much of a talker, are you?” Terrence stated, looking towards Aelestra catching her gaze at the goods he was hauling. “Ah, all that, right, I’m a merchant in case you hadn’t figured that bit out yet.” He chuckled before continuing, “My family specializes in spices, we deal across the whole of Ergos, usually we’d have one of our actual caravaners doing this sort of work, but I had some personal business over in Kasora that I needed to take care of. So I went ahead and took this load myself. Thanks again for the help, this would have been a hell of a walk to Ember if you hadn’t come along.”

Ah, so she was close with her guess. The goods Terrence was transporting related to food — that explained why it smelled so good. She’d be lying if she wasn’t at least a little bit curious about what the merchant meant by ‘personal business’ but it wasn’t her place as a stranger to pry. Aelestra was never the type to really insert herself in anyone’s business anyway. She did, however, liked to make it a point that it wasn’t a matter that she didn’t want to talk. Flexing her left arm a little bit more to carry more weight, she released her right hand from the wagon and signed in his direction.

‘You’re welcome.’

“Ah, I see, I see.” Terrence said, acknowledging her use of sign language. “Looks like you’ll have to listen the whole way there then,” he laughed heartily. “Probably best we keep both of our hands on the wagon for the most part. I’ll tell you what though. I can tell you a bit of my story now, and later you can tell me some of yours when we have a few drinks to keep my mouth busy.” Terrence began telling her about his family’s business and home back in Dandolio.

Aelestra nodded in agreement as her right hand returned to the wagon, balancing the weight distribution that she had done earlier. She was used to just listening so she didn’t mind all that much when Terrence started to talk more about his family business. Even at the monastery, people would talk her ear off about her sorts of things. She was probably the best listener there was now that she thought about it. Still, it was nice to hear about Dandolio. Just like the Free Territories, Dandolio was vastly different from Strathgarde.

She continued to listen for the rest of the way to Ember, mostly with a blank expression but occasionally with a quizzical look whenever he mentioned something interesting. There was even a chortle here and there but for the most part, the atmosphere was more or less content.

After about five or six hours, the two had managed to transport the wagon to Ember —- with the help of the two horses of course. Her arms felt slightly sore from lifting the entire time but she wasn’t one to complain. The task didn’t end there, however, as the two had to track down a carpenter first to issue a new wheel to be made. By the time that was done, the sun had already begun to set.

“Well I doubt there’s much a carpenter can do with this much time left in the day. I say we find a good place near the inn to set her down and I’ll find a guy to get me a new wheel. You’ve done more than enough already.” Terrence finished as they found a vacant spot on the side of the inn. Just as they set the wagon down, Terrence called the attention of a boy that happened to be walking by.

“Boy! I’ve got work for you,” He shouted, flipping a gold coin into the boy’s hands, “I need you to let the town’s carpenter know I need a wagon wheel, I can pay him when it’s done, I’ll be staying here.” He pointed behind him to the inn. The boy grinned wildly, nodding and rushing off to find the woodworker. “Easy enough.” Terrence reached into the rear of the wagon producing the pouch of coin he had shaken before, and taking out a smaller bag as well. He opened the larger bag and began to shovel coins into the smaller one until it was taut and could barely tie shut.

“Alright then, one day's worth of coin, ma’am.” He handed her the pouch, and then proceeded to sign to her. ‘It would be my pleasure to know your name, though I understand if you’d prefer to be the mysterious traveler helping merchants in need.’ Terrence smiled, as he pulled out a box from the wagon, before tying the cover over the top to secure the goods within.

Aelestra took the coin pouch from Terrence, storing it in her satchel that hung from her shoulder down to her side. She bowed her head deeply in appreciation before looking back up at him in time to watch him sign to her. Her eyes widened slightly in surprise, it was very rare to meet someone who knew how to communicate through the use of hand gestures. It was a pleasant surprise. ‘Aelestra,’ she signed back before continuing, ‘I’m a monk from Strathgarde, I help anyone in need.’

For some reason, she felt…excited to be able to communicate with Terrence. Most of the time, people were left waiting for her written responses, there were always awkward pauses and not much was said and done because of it. However, being able to communicate back and forth without much delay made her feel content. Aelestra watched as the merchant retrieved a box from the wagon before securing the entirety of the wagon itself. She raised an eyebrow and signed, ‘what’s in the box?’

Terrence winked, “A gift for ol’ Jorah, the innkeeper, and a little something for us to wet our tongues with.” He finished up with his cart and began to walk towards the inn’s entrance with Aelestra. She opened the door for Terrence, following behind him as he walked over to the man behind the bar.

“Jorah, it’s been too long, and don’t think I’ve forgotten.” Terrence greeted the man somewhat loudly as he set the crate gently onto the counter. He cracked open the top pulling out a bottle of the Dandolian Port for himself and Aelestra. “One shipment of Dandolio’s finest port. If you wouldn’t mind too much I’ll have what he’s having,” pointing towards the man seated at the bar eating stew out of a bowl. “Oh, and one for her as well.” He motioned toward Aelestra, and took a few coins out of his pouch, handing them to the innkeeper.

---

Chaos Gallant demytra

 

[Breadman]

"Bandits are stupid, but not enough to attack a heavily armed knight." Fraskia told the innkeeper before returning her attention to Arnas again "That's a good question." Fraskia placed a thumb to her chin as she thought about her career to this point "Its really a competition between the monsters that are like beasts and those that are humanoid." She snapped with a finger "One of each group, then."

"Most dangerous beast I hunted was with a group of professionals dragon hunters. They say they were at least. Bastards took me and and a dozen others on a trek for three months hunting wyverns. Anyone who tells you they are nice and easy picking has never fallen in a nest full of them. From the fifteen that left the town only half of us came back. Nearly lost my own leg if it wasn't for a timely rune placement that caused a cave-in. Still, I managed to salvage from the expedition." She moved her hand to bring attention to her armor "Wyvern skin is tough and light, but uhhh...its annoying to clean. As for the 'dragon hunters', they can hang for all I care. You hear the name brothers Merki somewhere, they deserve nothing but your spit."

"Now as for humanoid. You know what trolls are, right? Big, dumb, but you can trick them into building you a bridge with some meat. They have cousins up in the northern hills made by some mage with too much time on his hands. Bigger, dumber, sadistic, with one eye and love the taste of human. A village named Blimirsko had a lot of shepherds raising goats. One day a few of them go missing along with their stock. They rely on those animals to survive so they call for help. I was still a rookie then so I had a senior knight accompany me. We found the shepherds remains. Torn apart and half eaten. The goats were not far off. Neither was the monster. The cyclops had gorged himself over the past few days and passed out. So I think to myself, why not climb on it and stab its bastard eye out while it was asleep. My senior was too slow to stop me and when I got on his fat gut, that eye opened up and the bastards smiled." She could feel the same fear she felt back then when confronted with her own idiocy "He grabbed me like I was some child and tossed me aside." Fraskia motioned with her with her arm to mimic the cyclops' movement. "My career was going to meet a horrid end were it not for the other knight taking the opportunity to cut the big bastard from behind. He was still full of meat so he was still slow, but could hit like a battering ram all the same. My senior had a bright idea. It was during the summer and the air was hot. I cast a rune in order to set the grass on fire and he cast an air rune. The flame tongue caught the monster and set him ablaze. He tried to roll himself in the mud, but failed to notice us getting close enough until we stabbed that eye out." Fraskia was quiet for a moment. That story was at the same time harrowing yet oddly nostalgic "I learned some very important lessons that day. Along with those my senior gave me on the way back."

 

[demytra]

Arnas listened to Fraskia's two stories, about the drake and the troll respectively, as both offered different insights as well as cautionary tales for creatures he himself had yet to encounter and had no intentions of encountering any time soon. He couldn't ever imagine himself ever fighting a troll, let alone a wyvern, for the risks outweighed any sort of reward. Hearing the lady's own exploits made his own basilisk hunt seem rather dull by comparison as he glanced over to the head again and shifted in his seat uncomfortably. Of course, that's because he wasn't a professional on that front. That was better left to more seasoned and specially trained for such situations.

"Can't imagine how scary it must have been to face a troll like that. I've never seen one myself, let alone have had to fight it." Arnas then commented before scratching his chin. "You said runes... what do you mean?" he then asked ( Breadman ). "You don't strike me as a mage of any kind, not with your armor and weaponry. All those things are beyond me by quite a margin." He chuckled, "I'm neither a good student nor inclined for such things." This prompted a scoff from Jorah as he set switched from cleaning mugs to wiping the countertop near and around the lone drunk that was soundly asleep. "You'd prefer being thrashed around like today?" Jorah asked rhetorically.

Before Arnas could retort however, two newcomers arrived into the tavern which caught his and Jorah's attention although the latter recognized one of them as he gave a nod to the orc. "Coming right up." he spoke before shouting towards the back, "Bella! Two more portions of stew!" And soon enough, the same girl from the back quickly arrived with two bowls and set them onto the emptier area of the bar counter nearby while Jorah brought two mugs of cold ale with foam on the top of each that popped and sizzled gently. "Terrence, I had expected you hours ago. Trouble on the road?" He then looked towards the shipment and nodded, "Though, the goods are here, so I can't be too upset."

Arnas remained quiet as he inspected the new arrivals. He could tell the name of the orc already as Jorah had said it aloud, but the young lady was a complete mystery to him. Likely to Jorah as well as he didn't say anything about her that indicated as such. He gave a slight wave to the two of them from where he sat as they made themselves comfortable in the establishment. "You two traveling together?" he then asked ( Beann Chaos Gallant ).

 

[Beann]

Aelestra stood behind Terrence as he delivered the crate to the innkeeper. The two of them seemed to be well acquainted, was Ember a frequent stop for this merchant? Another question among the many she would probably never ask. Her gaze turned to the man that Terrence had pointed to, and then to the other woman that occupied a space nearby. The woman's accent was familiar, perhaps she was from Leasir or Longard, or maybe even Strathgarde. She was curious to know where exactly she was from but Terrence's voice ripped her attention away when he requested food for her as well. Aelestra hurried over to his side, signing quickly in hopes to earn his attention.

'That is not necessary —'

She stopped signing as the merchant had already tossed out the coins to pay for both of their meals. Lowering her hands in defeat, she bowed her head once again, appreciating his generosity. He had already paid her for a full day's work, she was more than capable of paying for her own meal now. The amount of generosity he displayed was uncommon, even the donations monks received were usually miniscule like a few silver pieces and a piece of bread. Even then, Aelestra would have been content. She shook her head slightly as another young woman came rushing out from the back of the inn with two bowls in hand, setting them down on the countertop. There was no way she could refuse the meal now.

Pulling the barstool back slightly, she took a seat in front of one of the two bowls. The stew smelled good and it had been a while since she had a warm meal. Might as well enjoy it. Before she could dig in though, the other male patron spoke up, asking if the two were traveling together. Aelestra turned her body slightly to face him as she started to sign, 'No, his wagon —' she stopped herself almost immediately as she thought the chances of this man knowing sign language were slim. She looked at Terrence and motioned for him to explain instead.

---

Breadman Chaos Gallant demytra

 

[Chaos Gallant]

“Oh just a wee bit, broke a wheel a few miles out. Lady Luck was smiling on me though, and sent me this one.” Terrence replied, gesturing to Aelestra. “She is a monk from Strathgarde, doesn’t speak, but she is not shy about hard work. We lifted the wagon all the way here. I would wager she is at least half as strong as me, must be something in the water up north.” Terrence said between swigs of the ale. Eager to finish it and uncork the bottle of port.

His attention turned to the man to the side from him, noticing Aelestra about to sign towards the man's question. “Ah, where are my manners? I am Terrence of the Family Halforth, and this is Aelestra. We only met today though, and what a coincidence that I would be seeing two northerners this far south.” Giving a nod to Fraskia. ‘Quite an exciting day it has been,’ Terrence thought to himself, as he turned his attention to the basilisk head.

“Now what do we have here?” His eye grew a bit wider, realizing that there was in fact a fresh dripping basilisk head on the bar counter. He moved a bit closer, wanting to get a better look at the thing. “Looks like someone has had quite the hunt today, which one of you took this beast down? And you cannot convince me it was ol’ Jorah here.” Terrence laughed, looking between Arnas and Fraskia. ( demytra Breadman Beann )

 

[Arnalia]

Lucina Lux
​

As her eyes saw the shape of the village approaching, Lucina's shoulders relaxed a little. Thanks the gods she managed to get there just as the sun fell down, the roads were dangerous enough as it is. In the grand schemes of things, one year wasn't much. But for the priestess each days that passed without finding their relic was a day wasted. A day where it could be lost forever, never to be found again except in ancient texts marveling at it while lamenting about it loss.

Lucina shook these thoughts out of her mind, now wasn't the time for pessimism but actions. After begging every faithful resistants that liked Alandra for the relic location then running after all it numerous buyers and sellers —a chase that quickly lead her out of Merish— she managed to get a lead. The "merchant" the artifact had been smuggled too was last seen in the free territories. Lucina could not pinpoint an exact location but by taking into account how the war changed the roads most used she had a guess that they would pass by Ember village.

Approaching it, she headed straight for the tavern. With the little sum her temple gave her coupled with the coins she amassed on her travel —mostly by odd jobs and using her competences as a priestess— Lucina figured she would have enough for her short stay. Handing her horse to a stable she directed herself toward the tavern.

Lucina opened the door and peaked in, her head observing the interior, a small smile on her face. Entering fully, she walked toward the man behind the counter. Four people were already there chatting. A young woman and a man with brown hair dressed like adventures were turned toward a tall orc and another woman with white hair that looked a bit younger. Taking care to not cut them off she politely approached closer.

"Alandra smile upon you good travelers!" she enunciated warmly, her thick and mixed northern and southern accent—typical of Merish— sometime made common folks outside of it have difficulty understanding her. Turning her head to the gruff looking man behind the counter she said "I am in need of a warm room and the meals," she looked at the four peoples plates and smiled,"look delicious. If there is still some place left I would be very grateful. Oh! Don't worry I have the means to repay your hospitality." She took a few coins out of her purse and continued. "The cheapest room and meal will suit me just fine really. "Lucina said, her voice reassuring and gentle. "You do not have to worry about me I can even sleep in a barn if there's no place left !" She said raising her hands, trying to reassure the man to not be worry about giving her less than she paid for.






demytra
Breadman
Beann
Chaos Gallant

 

[Oreo Cookie]

"Pick up the pace." commanded Vera. "I want to get there before nightfall."

The balding man sitting alongside the knightess sighed and signaled to the pair of horses pulling the small carriage, and their speed increased from a slow trot to a slightly less slow trot. It was the knightess' turn to sigh, her exasperation reverberating in the helm she wore. It was only a few days prior that she had saved this man from being waylaid by a couple bandits, and to her dismay, she would find that he had nothing to offer her in return for her selfless deed. No gold. No goods. Just the offer to ride her to the nearest village, some humdrum town called Ember, though she was fairly confident he was simply using her as a deterrent to more banditry.

"Shoulda let them have at you."

"Hm?"

"Nothing."

She brought out a gold piece and danced it between her gauntleted fingers, drawing the driver's eye as she did so. A trip to a new town was far from her worse prospect. In fact as things were, it was probably her best prospect. The previous villages she had been frequenting had become rather stingy as of late, with fewer townsfolk having the coin to afford her generous rates. Conversely, there were people who could buy her sword-arm, but chose not to due to her reputation. She made a thoughtful sound as the village of Ember came into view, and the gold she spun between her fingers was flicked towards the driver. Surprised, he tugged on the reins in the process of catching it, causing the carriage to come to sudden halt.

"What's this for?" He asked, his voice wavering between gratitude and annoyance. To this, Vera did not immediately answer, who instead hopped in the carriage's rear to retrieve her travel bag, which she promptly slung over her shoulder.

"Gonna walk the rest of the way." She said after hopping out.

"Y'sure?"

"Mm. Thinking I'll get there faster if I don't rely on your pair of mules." She offered a dismissive wave and began her stroll towards the village. In her brief look back, she saw the driver shrug and steer his carriage back up the road they journeyed down, and at a speed the knightess observed, was notably faster than the one they arrived at. She couldn't help but the laugh at the man's brazenness, and in doing so found her throat incredibly parched. She needed a drink. With that thought in her mind, she began her hunt for the village's tavern.

It did not take long for Vera locate the establishment, and after retrieving a couple of coin pouches from her travel bag,, she decided to waltz in. "Huh. Quite the crowd." She spoke to no one in particular as she scanned the current occupants. Her unseen gaze would pause on the basilisk head present on the counter, a curious sight for sure. Walking around the perimeter of the room, she'd drop her bag on an unoccupied table before making her way to a vacant spot at the counter. "Need two--no, make it three bottles of something good." She requested when the innkeeper drew near, sliding a coin purse his way. Glancing at the basilisk head, she added "If you're making a basilisk brew, I'll take that too."

 

[demytra]

"Pleasure to meet the both of you, then." Arnas replied to Terrance ( Chaos Gallant ) as he explained who Aelestra was. The detail of her being a monk caught his interest, as she didn't particularly look the part save for the rather utilitarian clothing she bore. There was also the enigma of what sort of monk order she was a part of, as he himself didn't know much about these types of theological orders or movements. Not that he wasn't particularly religious in any matter, as he loosely followed the Church of the Father's Light, but neither was he particularly zealous or pious to actively worship or praise said divines in any manner. As Terrence made his comment on the basilisk head, Jorah audibly scoffed at the jest made towards him as he returned behind the counter. "Oi, in my prime I certainly could have! Those days are behind me however..." he commented in a slightly defensive manner, obvious that a small scratch had been made on his pride. "But so, that would be Arnas' doing."

The innkeeper's attention was then drawn to the door as another newcomer arrived, followed shortly by one more. The first was obviously an Alandran priestess, given her garments and greeting, as she inquired about a living space. Jorah nodded to her as she placed payment on the counter, "Aye, plenty of rooms available. Not much business travels through here though tonight does seem like an exception." he replied to her as he gathered the coins before beckoning the Bella to bring yet another bowl of stew for her. Shortly thereafter, it arrived and was set before her, steaming hot with its aroma rising to her nostrils as if beckoning her to eat. "Always happy to serve a lady of the divines, especially one from Alandra's flock." Arnas observed her as well as it was another one of the religious types, though this one seemed much more involved with her order. He had heard of the Alandran Healers and their compassion and charity to others, even if they were not believers themselves.

Jorah then turned his attention to the other newcomer, an armored woman who had an aura of knightliness of sorts, as she ordered food as well as a large amount of drink. "Well, you're in luck. Just had Dandolian Port brought in by Terrence here," Jorah commented to her, motioning his head towards where the orc sat, before getting the drinks ready and yelling out for Bella once more. And like always, the serving girl quickly brought a bowl of stew out while Jorah uncorked and set out three bottles of the southern wine down in front of her. "Though the stew isn't basilisk, just chicken. And vegetables. And some salt. The head belongs to Arnas for slaying the beast as a job." he then said, motioning a thumb to where Arnas sat.

He then placed a cup in front of Vera and poured some of the wine out for her for her convenience before clearing his throat. "What brings a knight such as yourself to the Free Territories? Adventuring? Or looking for work?" he then asked ( Oreo Cookie ), "Work can be found here, sure, but you'd have more luck further north in the other townships of these lands."

Arnas in the meantime returned his attention to Aelestra after having observed both newcomers. He had his own inquiry for the priestess, but he could save that for after. He shifted in his seat to turn himself towards where Aelestra sat and cleared his throat. "If you don't mind ma'am, uh... why is it that you don't speak?" he asked ( Beann ), interested in her but also not wanting to offend her by accident. "You don't need to write an answer if you're not comfortable with it."

By now, the sun outside was a faint sliver on the horizon as the sky took on a purple-black hue which meant dusk was in full swing. The day was coming to an end, which meant that the locals would also enjoy themselves for the evening after a long day's work. A slow trickle of the local patrons ensued, many of them being the gruff, farmer men types that had worked the fields all day. For them, this was their refuge from the labor they had worked for their whole lives. Comfort in a bottle, or a mug, was their respite from a tedious and menial existence. They took up a table near the back of the establishment to play dice and drink, as well as to chat among one another. However, as hard as they tried to hide it, Terrence could very well see spiteful and untrusting glances towards him. An animosity did exist between men and orcs, as the regions closest to the Thunder Plains were often victims of raids from the orcish tribes and war parties that traversed its plains. "Fucking durgini." one of the men muttered from his seat as he shot a glance towards the orc. Terrence couldn't tell what was being spoken, but the look said enough.

Outside of the farmers, a few of the artisan craftsmen of the sleepy town also entered though their moods were more jovial than their predecessors. The local blacksmith and tailor, obviously good friends by the way she wrapped their arms around their shoulders as they walked into the tavern side by side, ordered a large amount of drink for the evening as they talked about both their own lives and the goings on elsewhere that they might have heard of. "What I keep hearing from my cousin in Merish is just... terrible." the tailor commented to the blacksmith as he ran his fingers through his balding head, "The letters talk of hangings and sieges... just a terrible mess it all is." The blacksmith nodded in agreement, taking pity on such a devastating outlook. But he then spotted Lucina sitting at the counter, and found someone that could potentially life his spirits. Rather quickly he motioned to her for her attention: "Lady Healer! Would you join us for but a moment?" he then beckoned aloud ( Arnalia ), much to the surprise of the tailor who quickly shook his head. "You don't have to..." he spoke, wanting to finish but didn't muster the will to do so.

 

[Worthlessplebian]

Edoardo Vargas Melcher​

Through this untethered land, a priest of great stature roamed. Dusk falls on him, for he walked many days. On his back, he carries a bag. On his body, he carries the vestments of his temple. Yet despite his size, he is dwarfed by the imposing conifers. His nose whistled with a disapproving sigh. A sign of disappointment as he intended to have already moved through the free territories, yet still he is still here. Too many distractions on the road that have required his aid. His conscience reminds him that if he did not save that couple, they would have drowned in their fishing lake. His ego chastises him for letting them break a fishing rod over his head. Regardless of the priest's observations, protests, or rationalisations, it is crystal clear that he could not venture further.

The Dusk will turn to the Night. And with the Night comes the hollowing chill that this believer did not want to endure for another infernal nocturnal trek. No, the time of day did not bother this preacher as he practically exemplifies the nocturnal lifestyle. However, shivering through the entire walk would certainly boil his cold blood. Metaphorically speaking. But his heart jumped when his vertical-sided eyes spotted a light through the slits of the tall trees. A house, a village, or even a temple! Praise the divine for their timely intervention!

His calloused feet with pointed talons and webbing betwixt his toes trounced grass, dirt, and whatever maggot crawled in the pile. His tail scaled the dirt behind him, moving in rhythmic motion to cover any tracks that he left behind.

He slinked his way to the town. A town, which to a normal person would mean safety but Priest Melcher did not exactly look forward to the screams. The cabins were better as physically and numerically, Edoardo held the advantage. Mentally, he prepared himself for the explanations that he'll have to mouth away. Not a lot of people have seen his kind travel too far from their warm swamp.

His lungs push a stream of air through the nostrils, emitting a hissing sound. His hood obscured much of his features, except for one that he could never hide. One that not even a helmet could hide. A stubby, chiseled, and intimidatingly muscular snout. One villager opened a door to see what that strange noise was all about, only to grow wide eyed as if he seen a ghost and quickly shut the door.

The priest found an inn, called the First Post? Strange name, but Edoardo still thought in his native language. As good a place as any to rest and feed. His webbed hands gripped the door handle. Pushing it open, Edoardo lowered his head to avoid the door frame. Finding it rude to keep his hood on, a pair of reptilian fingers peeled the cloth off—revealing the saintly markings over the top of his snout and head. His jaw pried itself open, passing a greeting bellow. "Hello," he announced with a calm and commanding tone. Walking over to the counter, he looked the innkeeper in the eye and: "May I receive a glass of sparkling water?" Surprisingly well-mannered for a towering Sobekon short-snout.

He also took note of others present. Like that priestess, knightly-looking woman, bearded man and others.

demytra
Arnalia
Oreo Cookie
Chaos Gallant
Beann
Breadman

 

[Breadman]

"Not spells, just techniques." Fraskia corrected Arnas. "There are entire tomes written about this sort of thing, but to save you a lot of time and to translate it into a language a regular person speaks and understands, we are basically drawing with our fingers. There is magic ether all around us, mages and warlocks can channel it better since they're born with the ability to control it. Rest of us, we have to make do some other way. Dwarfs figured out how in the ancient days while they dug through the earth for treasure. If you do certain motions, you basically call to the elements for aid. There were others that came to the same conclusion, but they were the first as far as historians are concerned." Fraskia shrugged "But it doesn't matter. What does is me moving my index and ring finger while my thumb is holding my middle in the right way makes fire." She wiggled one finger as a 'demonstration'

Seemingly satisfied with the answer, Arnas' attention was drawn to the other people entering the inn. Fraskia couldn't help but look to the new arrivals as well. While they spoke, she had ordered herself a tankard of ale and it didn't take long for half of its contents to go missing. What looks like an orc with a mute monk was an odd couple, but not impossible. And the monk was from Strathgarde as well. Maybe if Fraskia remembered anything from that country other than the language, she could strike up a conversation. How would that work given the monk was mute? She couldn't read hand signs, so that's a problem right there. If she tried, she might cast a rune by accident. Next came a priestess from Merish. Bright eyed and beaming, that one. Better than the usual down and out inn dwellers. She was followed by another lady knight. Well now she had to say something. Their kind was rarer and if both of them were under one roof, then the local superstitious lot might get any bright ideas. The rune knight raised her tankard for a cheers when their eyes met when the newest person entered.

Fraskia froze in place, her gut reaction was to brace for trouble, but her other instinct kicked in and told her to stay put. Soon enough the walking crocodile introduced himself in a very polite manner. She looked at her brew and decided to forgo the rest of it for tonight.

 

[Beann]

Usually, the monk communicated through charcoal and paper, writing out short responses to those that attempted to hold a conversation with her. Now that Terrence was present though, she could communicate more freely as he didn’t seem to mind being her translator. She nodded along as her orc acquaintance introduced the two of them and explained how they met. The compliment on her strength was appreciated but it surely wasn’t because of the northern water, it was simply years of training at the monastery.

As more time passed, more new, and interesting faces turned up. An Alandran priestess who seemed rather cheerful and friendly, and an armored woman who requested drinks and stew immediately. It was nice to see a tavern not filled with the typical drunken brutes but she was certain that would change once the sun had completely set.

Her attention turned back to the man that Jorah had referred to as Arnas. She was a bit surprised at the question but she didn’t intend to shy away from it. Aelestra stared at him for a couple of seconds, as if she was trying to search for the answer from him. She then turned her gaze upward to the ceiling, scratching the back of her head in thought. Why didn’t she speak? Nothing came to mind other than ‘I don’t know.’ Would that be an acceptable answer to give? She turned to look at Terrence as she signed to him so that he could translate for Arnas.

‘Is there a reason to?’

---

Chaos Gallant demytra

 

[Chaos Gallant]

"Oh, I have no doubts about it," Terrence replied to Jorah before turning to Armas, "That must have been quite the hunt, I have only ever read about them myself. Thankfully monsters like that stay clear of the routes I use." Two new faces came through the door, a priestess and a knight, this was starting to look like the beginning of a long joke to Terrence. He chuckled to himself at the thought.

It wasn't long until the tavern had become quite crowded, many of the townsfolk had funneled in by now. Many looks were no doubt cast at Terrence, he didn’t stop by Ember too often, and it was usually brief, not even stopping for a night. The dirty looks and remarks barely phased him at this point. It was almost pitiful really, when he got home he would rest his head easy on his silken pillows and sheets with a bit of incense burning, while they would return home to their corn husks and straw. The thought was bittersweet for him, on one hand, it was delightful to think naysayers would never achieve such luxury. However, the same would go for those hard workers with pure hearts.

Terrence snapped back out of his thoughts to translate for Aelestra and Arnas. “Is there a reason to?” The message made him smile a bit. Looking at Aelestra he signed, ‘I can think of at least one if he cannot.’

Not a few moments later the tavern became hushed as the front door opened revealing the Sobekani. Terrence’s jaw had practically hit the floor, the crocodilian fellow striding confidently in and eloquently requesting sparkling water. Terrence pinched himself, ‘Surely this is too much to be real.’ He could only imagine the thoughts of the other tavern-goers. It was doubtful any local had ever seen a Sobekani in the Free Territories, let alone in this town. Terrence himself had only ever read about the Morken Marshlands as a child, the Halforth’s had barely any trade history in the area after all.

He slowly stood up and put out his hand to introduce himself, realizing as an afterthought that he had no knowledge of Sobekani customs. “Good evening, I am Terrence of the Halforth family, I have never met a Sobekani before. May I pay for your drink?”

Beann demytra Worthlessplebian

 

[demytra]

The response that had been translated back to him by Terrence garnered a look of surprise on Arnas' face as he let the words settle in on his mind. Is there a reason to...? he thought to himself, looking right at Aelestra for a moment and unsure what to say. To him, speaking was such a basic part of anyone's existence that he had never really even thought about such things. Not having to speak, or being unable to, was as if he were unable to walk. Or to breathe. It was instinctual, a fundamental part of his being, to be able to communicate in such a manner, and yet he realized perhaps that was not all there was to it. He let off a nervous chuckle as he swished his half-full mug around, the ale inside swirling gently to the motions, as he found the right words.

"Well... words are what allow us to form connections, to speak is to be able to tell stories and to tell what you want to someone. And yet..." he spoke, giving off a soft smile of his own to her, "Perhaps you don't need to after all. Sometimes, actions speak louder than words as some say." He then shook his head and turned a head away, feeling embarrassed of trying to convince a mute person to talk. "I'm sorry, I won't bother you with any of my tripe." ( Beann )

Man, I really am an idiot. was all he thought to himself as he looked into his mug again.

In the meantime, Jorah watched as Edoardo entered the tavern and wordlessly followed his movements as he approached. Much of the rest of the tavern also watched, although with hushed whispers of their own. Likely, they were speculating or perhaps coming up with more mockery. Regardless, the innkeep did not descend to any such rash conclusions and was unmoved by the Sobekon's request for carbonated water. For a moment, he remained silent after the words had been spoken as he took a good look at the one who hailed from the far southern marshes before nodding. "Aye. I have some available." he replied as he quickly went under the counter before resurfacing with a large waterskin that was made of black leather.

In recent years, it had surfaced as a popular beverage alternative to regular waters and even alcohols for its bubbliness after it was accidentally discovered by a Lithurnian alchemist who experimented with gases in liquids. Jorah poured it into a mug and set it aside to where the Sobekon could sit, or stand, at the counter and enjoy his beverage. He had overheard Terrence offering to pay for the drink, and so Jorah did not ask for any as a result. "Mmm, not many from the marshes venture this far north." he commented ( Worthlessplebian ), before looking back at Vera ( Oreo Cookie ) again. "Seems tonight brings plenty of folk who are far from home."

 

[Oreo Cookie]

"Dandolian Port, huh? Fancy!" Vera remarked appreciatively. She briefly fiddled with her helmet before removing it, and without missing a beat, immediately grabbed the cup placed before her and downed it entirely. Her hands poured the remainder of the first bottle into her cup as she mulled over the innkeeper's question. "Circumstance is what brought me here." She gulped down her second cup and began working on the second bottle. "As it happens, I came to your charming village by way of the north. Indeed, lots of gold to be earned up there." She jingled her spare coin purse to emphasize her statement. "I suppose you could say I'm just looking for something new. In fact..." Her gaze turned to the basilisk head and then to the man who slew it. "...if you're paying per head, I wouldn't mind sticking around to help slay some beasties."

The knightess would finish her stew and second bottle when the local crowd started to roll in. They were mostly mundane folk, none of whom caught her attention, that was until the scaly giant entered the tavern. Having never seen a Sobekon up close before, she watched with rapt attention as the crocodilian walked up to the counter and ordered a... sparkling water. The last part caused Vera to lightly laugh in amusement. Out of all the request she had expected out of that toothy mouth, sparkling water was not one of them. She looked at her remaining bottle of Dandolian Port that she had yet to drink, and after a second of consideration, slid it towards the Sobekon. "Here's a real drink, friend. I'm told it was brought in thanks to Sir Terrence here."

The knightess turned her attention back to Jorah as he addressed her, and she raised a slight eyebrow. "Quite the coincidence, huh? Though one could say stranger things have happened in recent times."

 

[Worthlessplebian]

Edoardo Vargas Melcher​

The large reptilian priest remained up-right at the counter, not wishing to encounter any difficulties with the seating arrangements. He heard from previous travelers that human settlements oft times did not have chairs with the necessary heft to support them. Likewise, his muscular tail could provide strong gales is an obstacle in shabby establishments such as these. He does not feel pain if someone were to trounce it—owing that fact to the resistive structure, thick, and plated—but somebody will trip if they don't mind it. The innkeeper, who Edoardo would come to know as Jorah, had eyed the Sobekon for what seems to be a breathless minute. Thankfully, the innkeeper obliged this Sobekon holy man. Edoardo did not need to resort to flashing his coin pouch. He finds most magnates prefer currency instead of their own personal beliefs.

Just as the crocodilian lowered his scaly, claw hand into his pouch to retrieve adequate money, the bearded man with pointed ears swiftly offered to pain for the drink. The priest turned his head at the man with a nod to the side. Sobekoni like him are quite uncommon in the wider world, some would say even rare, so the jubilant excitement when one finds a specimen is not foreign to Edoardo though many are paralysed with fear. There are terror-inducing stories of short-snouts like him repelling invaders from distant lands and bygone times. An interesting matter to one day research, perhaps when he becomes 180 years old then he could pursue such a venture.

A clawed hand massaged the priest's soft throat before he replied to the man. "I thank you, my good man. Though you should know it's pronounced Sobek-O-ni." His voice had been raspy, but tone implied that he was happy. His jaw dropped down to savour the fizzling water. His parched tongue and throat were lit ablaze by the bubbling substance, a very refreshing opening to the night. "Good to meet you, Terrence of the Halforth family. I am Edoardo Melcher, a priest from the humble marshes."

His "toothy grin" next turned to the knightly woman, offering a bottle of Dandolian Port to him. Though his kind could not smile, his eyes tried their best at expressing his somberness. "The water is enough, but I thank you for the offer as well."

The priest produced a guttural noise, akin to the scratching metal with the depth of a cave. His form of a hhhhmm. "Perhaps tonight is a moment of destiny, wouldn't you think?" The priest replied to the innkeeper.

Breadman
demytra
Oreo Cookie
Chaos Gallant

 

[Beann]

Aelestra raised an eyebrow as Terrence signed back to her. She genuinely couldn’t think of a reason to speak, after all, she was able to convey her thoughts through hand signals and writing. Communication was oftentimes awkward but so long as it got her point across, was there really a problem? Considering his surprised expression and chuckle afterward, it would seem that Arnas was not expecting her answer to be so open-ended. Perhaps she should have gone with the simple ‘I don’t know’ answer?

She offered him a nod in agreement, actions do speak louder than words. Words could only carry a person so far, there were language barriers and whatnot. However, actions were universal, something that anyone could understand. Aelestra tilted her head at his apology, unsure why he would think he was bothering her. She lifted her hands up to sign again but as her gaze switched over to Terrence, she realized he was currently occupied with a Sobekani. Well, it wasn’t like he was her official translator anyways, no need to rely on him all the time.

Digging through her satchel, she pulled out a leatherbound notebook and a piece of charcoal. Flipping to an empty page, she started to write something to salvage her conversation with Arnas. ‘Are we not forming a connection now?’ She placed the notebook on the countertop, sliding it over to him for him to read. Allowing him a couple of seconds to read her message, she took the notebook and wrote an additional message before handing it back.

‘Would you like to learn some words?’

---

demytra

 

[Arnalia]

Lucina Lux
​

As Lucina offered her thanks to the man behind the bar her eyes shining with excitement at finally having the chance to eat a good and warm meal after days of travels, she heard a man calling her.

"Lady Healer! Would you join us for but a moment?"

She immediately turned, and hop off her chair without any fuss at all like it was second nature. Happy to be of service to anyone. As Lucina reached the two men the bar suddenly went quiet. Creasing her eyebrows in confusion she turned her eyes to the door like everyone. What- Was it ? A....a..crocodile ? Her eyes widened as the newcomer made his way toward the bar and asked for....sparkling water. Lucina let out a small chuckle, racking her brain she remembered reading about such a race. Sobekani they were called ? Or rather Sobek-O-ni according to the rare accounts of Alandran priests that had travel that far. Oh what a great night ! So many interesting people to meet ! And so many things she wished she could ask all of them. She made a note to try and have a conversation with the Sobekoni specifically, as he looked more like a priest than a warrior.

Turning her attention away from him and the bar she greeted the two men that had called her with a smile and waited for them to ask her what they wanted or how she could help.







demytra
Worthlessplebian