Fantasy The Devil's Meridian (Closed)

[joshuadim]

Upon opening his eyes, Dobbs took a quick glance around and felt positively satisfied with himself. He had certainly accomplished something but wasn't entirely sure as to what exactly. The interaction with such a speck of light was certainly noteworthy, and he wondered what more could he accomplish with Astrius' gift should he continue to practice and push himself. For the time being however, he felt content with the evening and moved to resign himself for the night. As she undressed and slipped under his covers, he closed his eyes and held a soft smile as he slowly drifted off to slumber.

 

[Infab]

The return to the second island was a relatively calm one, devoid of anything particularly notable beyond fish sightings in the water. Once Warren and his group arrived, they found the camp as the had left it. Though a bit cleaner from the looks of things. Slater had tasked the men and women to begin packing things up for their departure the next day, so equipment and such were being gathered and tended to. Slater herself was found sitting outside her tent, her coat set aside and shirt sleeves rolled up as she sketched the view of the Jackal sitting on the ocean. The sunset in the background, along with some gathered dark clouds in the distance.

She glanced over and her eyes widened when she saw the bandages wrapped around Warren's head. "Commander?! Are you alright?!" she said, setting her sketchbook aside and starting to climb to her feet. He waved a hand at her. "I got hit by a mummy. I'm alright. Also got a promotion to captain, but that really only matters on this expedition. Anyway, make sure everyone gets their things squared away. And proper rest. I'm going to my tent. Riddle, you've got the night watch." stated Warren, explaining things before glancing to Riddle. Riddle nodded, and the men dispersed as Warren moved back towards his personal tent.

Once he arrived, he soon sat at his small folding table and rested his head in his hands. The pain was starting to ease off, but it was still lingering. He poured himself a shot of whiskey, which he downed promptly, before sitting back in his chair. He had a whole night to get through, and at the moment, his mind was on the winged mermaid.

He still didn't know what she had done to him. Had she blessed him with a gift? He could obviously see things others couldn't, like the flaming blue aetherine. What else could he do? He sighed, glancing through the open flap of his tent at the ocean. Maybe it was something mundane, like he could swim better. Swim like a fish. He chuckled at the thought. Maybe she gave him the gift of water breathing? He could breathe underwater in that one dream, but...by the end he lost that ability suddenly. Wouldn't he need gills or something for that? Last he checked, he didn't have 'em.

He looked nearby at his canteen, staring at it for a moment, before taking it and pouring some of its water into the glass he had drank from. Afterward, he focused on the glass, pointing a finger at it. Maybe it was something magical, like controlling water with his mind? Didn't hurt to try. If nothing happened, oh well. He'd figure out what the gift was sooner or later.

 

[EdwardDewey98]

Screaming for dear life, gasping for air, tearing through his suit like a mad man. Alvarado was covered in small drops of that accursed liquid. Soon his men and women began to undress him and soak him in water, but there wasn't enough at the time to wash him quickly. They feared that their captain was about to suffer the worst of fates. Alvarado, now driven mad, simply laid on the ground, muttering a few words. About the thing he saw in that Euclidean room. His crew did not know what to believe, and all they could do was cover their captain with a sheet and drag him back to the Correntino.

When the crew arrived, the news of Alvarado's state quickly spread through the ship. Dos Santos, who had spent the rest of the day studying the evil flower, rushed to look at the captain as he was hauled to the infirmary. If Alvarado were to die or turn into an abomination, the morale of the Correntino would collapse. That's when an idea crossed the doctors mind, but she had to wait and see if Alvarado would shows symptoms of transformation... But until then, she ordered the doctors on the ship to keep the captain under constant watch, and to wake her should he show any signs of affliction.

She returned to her room shortly after. She didn't feel like eating anything today. All she had in her mind was what Halja had told her... Dos Santos sat on her bed while holding one of the raw aetherite stones, and tried to meditate. Too see what Halja tried to explain to her. If she were to learn what the Goddess told her, she might be able to heal Kuromaki and... if it were to happen, Alvarado.

 

[K0mori]

It wasn't long before Dr. Dos Santos was called back to the infirmary. The assistants couldn't even properly explain what was happening as they led her back; all she knew was that a mutation was taking place and Captain Alvarado's life was in immediate danger. She burst into the room, only to recoil in horror at what she saw: Alvarado was wrenched backwards in horrific pain, looking like a victim of tetanus and screaming, his voice sounding infected and unrecognizable. All over his now-bloated and discolored skin, lesions were opening, revealing small, black, worm-like creatures burrowing out of the flesh by the dozens.

Unable to consider any other option, Dos Santos concentrated on Alvarado and held out her hand, trying to sense his aura, and again, was shocked and confused. Dos Santos couldn't sense him at all, not because there was no aura in the bed, but because there were many. She couldn't count them, it felt as if a massive, angry mob had been assembled before her. She couldn't make any sense of it. Alvarado turned to her when he realized she was standing there, and with a remorseful look in his eyes, he shook his head just slightly. It was unmistakable what it meant: the Captain was doomed to die.

Dos Santos responded by giving a tearful salute, and then left the room. Moments later, there was a single shot which echoed through the halls of the ship. Unable to take the pain any longer, Alvarado had requested a merciful end. Upon his death, Dos Santos would later learn, his body continued to fidget and change for some time, but after roughly an hour, all changes had ceased and he had become a bloated, nearly unrecognizable body of filth and decay. The hellish worms were exterminated, with the exception of three which were separately contained in glass bottles, leaving only the corpse to attend to. Carefully, the medical team conducted an autopsy.

Alvarado has suffered seemingly-random changes throughout his body. Some organs were swollen while others were diminished and flooded with mucus. Bones had splintered and grown knotty like tree trunks, and all throughout his soft tissue there were deep, puss-filled tunnels through which the worms had exited from deep within. His brain had grown within his cranium, and the pressure exerted from within was causing tissue death within the lobes. He had been slowly shredded from the inside out, and had he not been killed by the bullet, he would not have survived another half hour.

When the autopsy had concluded, the team set about cleaning the body and draining as much of the infected fluids as they could, bringing him back down to nearly his original shape. He was then carefully wrapped into a burial shroud. The ship's engineers constructed a simple wooden coffin, and Alvarado was placed into it before the lid was nailed shut. They would hold a service for the Captain come morning, they concluded, by burying him on the island. No one dared speculate what he had seen down that tunnel under the mountain. Whatever it had been, it had brought them horror beyond description.

---
​

All throughout the fleet, the officers were in their beds, unaware of the trauma affecting the Correntino. The storm on the horizon never quite reached the fleet, but light showers and wind drenched the decks of the vessels at each island throughout most of the night, bringing with it a sort of gloominess which served as a bookend to the previous days of struggle. Some were eager to leave the Ossuary chain in the morning, while others were worried about the path ahead. Still in a drug-induced stupor, Meinhardt would sleep without dreams, as would many others by coincidence. However, for the rest of the captains...

---

Flint
​

Flint settled into bed and fell asleep rather easily considering the rather disturbing turn of events from that morning. In his dreams, he found himself attending to the mysterious scroll his men had brought aboard to examine. His researchers had become despondent with their lack of progress and had taken to experimenting with the material itself, dipping small parts in various solutions and observing the effects out of desperation. The Captain knew they were likely wasting time, but didn't jump in until one young officer actually proposed burning a portion. As he approached with a lit match, Flint stepped in the way.

"Sir, we have to know if the fabric will react-"

"Like hell you do!" Flint boomed, but the young man seemed sleepy, almost entranced. How long had they been working without rest? Flint heard another match light behind him, and then another. He turned to find the researchers all lighting matches one by one. "No!" he called out, but it was too late. The ancient scroll was soon engulfed with flames as the researchers looked on, dead-eyed and disinterested.

Flint rushed to a nearby safety cabinet and pulled out a fire blanket, throwing it onto the table to try to save what was left of the finely inscribed message. In the process, the silver looking glass he had received in his earlier dream was knocked off the counter top and shattered onto the floor. For the briefest moment, as burning shreds of scroll danced through the air, he thought he saw words forming in the mirror fragments, but he awoke before he could make sense of them.

---

Kortova
​

The Grand Captain and Ensign Kuromaki briefly met for tea once again in her quarters. The latter had only been on the ship for a few minutes before she remembered Panok's blessing, and, to the amazement of those not already aware of it, cleaned herself and her clothing of bloody spatter by simply staring into a mirror. She informed Kortova that the arch demon's blessing extended even to the clothing she was wearing. Despite the eventful day, the two had little to talk about. Kuromaki seemed exhausted by everything that had happened, and despite her slightly-unhinged enthusiasm for the supporting role she was playing in the Grand Captain's affairs, she couldn't fully suppress the fear Ivanavich's death had struck into her. Kortova graciously allowed her to leave for the night without prying too much, and soon turned in for the night as well.

As she lay in bed, she wondered what sort of "improvements" Ishra's token would grant her.

Oddly, Kortova's dream did not bring her to the Ashes or to her imaginary royal palace. She was, instead, lost in a sort of labyrinthine prison, and immediately immersed in a feeling of inescapable doom. As she crept through the halls in search of an exit, voices called out to her from behind bars in darkened cells. "Free us! Please, sister!" they begged, but she had no way of unlocking the gates, and when she attempted to grab hold of the bars and force it, a burning pain shot from her fingertips all the way to her shoulders, forcing her to stifle a cry. She looked over her hands, which looked as if they had been pressed against a hot stove top, and then the bars, and realized what had happened: the bars were coated with silver from top to bottom.

"Don't waste your energy," another voice whispered. "The silver will never yield to us; you must find the key. Come back to us when you've killed the guards, and we can rejoin the family at long last!"

Steeling her nerves, Kortova felt the urgency of their cries as a guardsman turned the corner and spotted her. He was clad from head to toe in armor lined with silver, and carried a long, curved sword at his side. For her own part, she glanced at her fingers and noted the arrangement of glowing, violet gems like the one she had been given by Zuruk. Power was surging into her from the gems - she felt as if she could tear this man limb from limb with the power of her telekinesis alone!

The prisoners began to chant as more guards arrived on the scene, "Long live Loken! To All-Abyss Nemuro!"

Empowered, Kortova lifted her hand at the first guard and suddenly found herself back aboard the Archangel, her hand raised in the air in a mysterious gesture. Zuruk's gift was glowing, but it subsided quickly as she realized she was no longer in danger. Looking around her cabin, Kortova noted that it wasn't yet dawn, and yet her vision was perfect... Another effect of her gradual transformation. She stood and approached the mirror on her vanity and searched for other clues, and found one immediately: her ears had changed shape while she slept, becoming pointed like an elf in a fairy tale illustration. As she looked them over, she also noticed the sharpening of her fingers and nails. While not quite claws, they were still quite capable of cutting flesh, and running the tip of one across the top of her vanity left a deep scratch in the wood.

She glanced at the hairbrush laying on the vanity top, and was amused by its uselessness now. She held out her hand, expecting the item to leap into her palm as it had done repeatedly the day before, and was startled instead when the entire vanity hopped towards her by several inches. She was getting stronger.

---

Dobbs
​

The intrepid Captain once again wondered the streets of the city on Vanguard Isle. His dream had returned him to this place, but now, it looked very different- very much alive and occupied. Dim candles burned in the windows as he approached the bell tower, and soon he discovered that he was not alone. There were sentries posted at the walls and in the tower, watching him closely in the night.

There was a thumping sound nearby, as if someone were walking with heavy footsteps. Dobbs turned to the source and found himself looking at a heavy wooden door blocking the entrance to one building's basement. It creaked open as an old man pushed from within, hunched over a walking stick. Dobbs hurried over and helped lift it out of the way, and the man stepped up and out onto the dusty road with a lantern hanging from his hip, thanking the Captain profusely for the help.

"Good sir," he said, "I know of your lot, come in from the sea. You visited here and searched for answers, and I know you didn't find them. This family," he added, pointing with his stick at the large manor behind them, which even in its timely state still looked venerable and crumbling, "has lived here for ten generations. Its lineage is buried below, side by side with the wine collection. No one else will thank you for leaving them to rest, but I am the attendant to these hallowed grounds. I will thank you," he said, patting Dobbs on the shoulder.

"Take this, and keep it with you. The Molichan Family had friends throughout. It is a sign of your trustworthiness." He presented Dobbs with a trinket made of sculpted granite that looked a bit like a chess pawn. A red silk ribbon was tied around the top, and when he turned it over, he found an intricate family seal carved into the bottom.

"Thank you," he said.

The old man nodded. "We held out as long as we could, but our era was at an end. Astrius could not protect us forever. If only we knew the cost of his peace..."

Before Dobbs could ask him what he meant, the dream slipped from his grasp, and he awoke in his quarters, the heavily Molichan Family seal resting in the palm of his hand.

---

Warren
​

Warren focused his efforts on the water in his drinking glass, but after a few minutes of stillness, began to feel a bit foolish. He gave up on it and decided that the truth would be revealed in due time. His head was still aching, and allowing himself to relax felt even better than he expected. Even through the bandages, he could feel the pillow's coolness and a sense of relief throughout his body. He fell asleep quickly and peacefully.

When he lifted his head next, he was unknowingly in the same sacred garden that Flint had visited two nights before. He sat up the rest of the way and looked around at the stark white trees which graced this place, but unlike Flint, felt no sense of reassurance. He instead felt a presence tracking his movement, and while its watchfulness didn't feel hostile, Warren knew that he wasn't welcome to stay here, either. Gossiping whispers hung in the air, and Warren sighed with mild annoyance.

"I mean you no harm," Warren spoke. "Show yourself, please."

He heard a soft tapping on the stone surface, and turned to find a veiled, angelic-looking woman wielding a bow. At her side, a long arrow reached all the way to the ground, its tip coated with silver. She was calmly lifting it and dropping it back to the dampened grooves in the stone. "Our queen welcomes most visitors, Mr. Warren, but she does not welcome you here. This is a sacred place that was built to cleans the damage done by your... benefactor."

"My benefactor...?" He remembered the winged mermaid. "You mean-"

"Do not say her name," the woman warned, a hint of fear in her voice. "She is a blight upon history. You may continue your heretical ways, if you should choose, but our queen will strike you down if you oppose her, just as she did the Great Enemy, all those centuries ago. She wishes peace, however. Please, take a bough from our sacred trees and keep it by your bedside, and leave that accursed shrine on the beach where you found it."

She reached up and plucked a small branch off the tree and walked it over to Warren, placing it in his hand. Warren looked at the stark white branch with its white leaves in curiosity, and then looked back to the veiled woman. With a bit of a start, he realized that behind the silken cloth, her face, like those people he had seen in earlier dreams, was nothing but a skull. However, he also remembered what Detlev had theorized and drew the small crystal ball out of his pocket.

The angelic figure took a step back and reached for her veil. Somehow, Warren knew that she was amused by his curiosity, and when she lifted the cloth away, he laid eyes on the most beautiful face he had ever seen, only visible through the glass. He was still captivated by her smiling facade when he awoke in the morning, the sacred bough in his hand and crossing his chest.

---

Dos Santos
​

The Doctor didn't return to bed for a long while after the death of Captain Alvarado. She went back to her lab instead, but found it impossible to work with the image of his decaying body in her mind. At times, she cried, overcome with emotion, before pulling herself back together. Not long before sunrise, she retired to her bed fully exhausted from everything, and slept poorly for a few hours.

Under a pale sky, she started, looking back and forth at the numerous white-cloaked mages sitting on the benches on either side of her. Dos Santos realized she was wearing a similar long, white, cloak, with Halja's cross in black on her breast to denote her role as a doctor. A voice called out: "Ana Maria, we need you at the fourth bed!"

Dutifully she stood and trotted over through the archway. This brought her into a large, circular hall between two stone walls. A colorful canvas ceiling above her stretched from wall to wall, allowing light in while protecting from the rain. Beds were positioned up against the inner wall, and patients were being attended to by the mages with obvious hospitality. The man who had called her over led her to a particular patient whose garments were open, revealing a deep wound in his chest unlike anything seen in the modern world; his heart was visible through his ribs, pumping away, but there was no blood, and no equipment to sustain this arrangement as there would be in a modern hospital. It was obvious that his chest was being held open by magic.

"You have steady focus," the man said. "I need to you keep his heart pumping just like this while I remove the arrow tip."

Dos Santos nodded, feeling confident that she could do the job, even though she wasn't sure exactly how she knew. She placed her hand over the man's heart and felt the pulsations in his aura. Soon, she could see it as well, just as Halja had demonstrated on the Correntino. She focused on the rhythm, and soon, began to nod her head in time before taking control. She was holding a man's life in her hands as another mage extracted a brass arrowhead from somewhere deep within his chest. This went on for several minutes, and despite the precarious nature of it all, the procedure was somehow soothing.

A hand came down on her shoulder, nearly breaking her concentration. It was the other mage: "We've got it, it's okay, you can let go," he said, and when she looked down, the man's chest was closing up, stitching itself back together again. She did as she was told, and his heart continued to pump on its own, without her help, and she smiled. She couldn't save every life, but as she grew stronger, there were fewer and fewer that she couldn't help. She remembered Alvarado's last moments, and it felt surreal; this life, in the ancient past, felt like her real one. But she knew the truth, deep down, that this was only a vision. She couldn't help him, but with practice, perhaps she could save others who fall victim to shadow mass.

As her dream faded, the other mage reached into the man's mouth and pulled out a strange looking white root. At once, the patient's eyes widened and he took a deep gasp. He had apparently been kept in a total trance while the operation was happening by whatever was contained within the root.

Dos Santos awoke in her bed feeling melancholy, wishing that the miraculous mages from her vision could have been with her during the night before. Captain Alvarado was fully and truly gone; she still couldn't believe it.

---

Kuromaki
​

The Ensign was provided a guest room aboard the Archangel, where she set down to rest for the evening. For a while, she simply lay there and tried her hardest to forget the sight of Ivanavich's body being crushed into the mimic chest, and eventually, dosed off into a shallow and uncomfortable sleep.

"Brothers and sisters, here is the second that Ishra promised!" a voice triumphantly announced. Kuromaki blinked, and was now looking at a crowd of strange people - no, demons - that had her surrounded. From the sparkling, blackened architecture, she knew that this must be the "Ashes" she had heard in vague passing, and that Grand Captain Kortova had visited this place before. The speaker, a strong-looking woman with large biceps, laid a heavy hand down on Kuromaki's shoulder. "Can you all sense it?" she asked them excitedly.

There was a murmur of agreement among those who were gathered. Kuromaki didn't know, but the crowd which had come to greet her was actually much smaller than that which had gathered for Kortova. Even after centuries, the second new face was still much smaller news than the first. But these demons who had come to meet her, especially those who had encountered Anastasia before, felt something different from the new woman's aura. "You are... impressive," a venerable-looking demon man remarked as he looked her over. "Lots of potential here. What is your name, young lady?"

"Tsukiko," she replied, brimming with excitement. From the moment she had experienced her first encounter with a demon through her dreams, she longed to be accepted into their presence.

"Ahh... pretty name," he remarked.

The powerful woman spoke again. "She'll be stronger than the first, won't she? She is more worthy..."

The old man shook his head. "Perhaps at the outset, but you know how these things go. The thirsty ones lack patience. But... I don't mean to speak of you as if you aren't here, Tsukiko. We have little else to talk about, you see. Two new sisters by Ishra's guiding influence is a wonderfully good omen. You and Anastasia are destined for greatness both. Word has already spread of her faraway kingdom, but what is it you wish to achieve?"

Kuromaki felt overwhelmed with so many eyes upon her, she could barely speak. "T-to help in any way I can. When she rules over Sokrovia, I will return to my homeland, to Shinju, and do the same."

"But surely you are not a royal yourself, are you?" the old man asked her.

She shook her head. "Neither is Anastasia, technically speaking, although she has royal blood... As Ishra said, rank and title are just symbols of power, anyway. When I return, I will show them what power is!"

There were murmurs of agreement from the crowd, but much less enthusiastic than those which had been inspired by Kortova. Perhaps they were less convinced of Kuromaki's resolve, or at least, her capabilities. Regardless, the strong woman offered to give her a tour, and much like Kortova and Zuruk, the two proceeded to walk about the city and enter the marketplace. She revealed her own name, Reugot, and spoke of many of the same features of the Ashes. Just like the Grand Captain, Kuromaki soon awoke with a ring, the violet gem in the center promising great things.

She was smiling as she lay in bed, thinking of the possibilities. She turned on her lamp and looked herself over, and gasped at the progression of her mutation, which she had nearly forgotten about in pursuit of demonic friendship. The fur which now covered her arms from the shoulder down was now speckled with violet patches that seemed to glitter in the low light. Her whole body was becoming shriveled and frail, and her face was distorted with an alien sharpness. Grinning, she felt over the contours of what must be a slowly-forming muzzle, and felt her heart skip a beat at the many sharp fangs behind her lips, and a forked tongue hiding behind them, as well. Whether the latter were the product of Halja's influence or that of Ishra's didn't quite matter to her. It felt good to be frightening. In the irises of her eyes were flecks of bright red, too, and she gleefully imagined herself becoming a sort of hell-hound over time.

Then, a chilling thought broke her elation. Had she allowed Ishra too much control? When the latter offered relief from the horror of her ancient curse, Kuromaki accepted it, not knowing that she would actually be thrilled by the thought of becoming a monster. Could this be a... bad... thing...? She felt as if a wall were in the path of her train of thought. Thinking critically was difficult; it was so much easier to allow these magics to change her into something more than human, something improved, just like Kortova had said. Then, out of curiosity, she decided to try moving her slipper with only her mind, as she was aware Kortova could also move objects remotely. Try as she might, however, she wasn't able to.

---

6th of October, 1919
​

The gray light of dawn reached the Ossuary chain after a night of buffeting winds and scattered showers. The storm in the distance was giving choppy seas which rocked the boats, but observers confirmed that it was not getting any closer and would pass by sometime in the early afternoon, giving the fleet a good chance to travel to its next destination. The vessels all gathered at the main island, and soon, the captains united for the first time in several days. Alvarado was dead, Kortova and Kuromaki had mutated, Dos Santos had done the opposite, and the rest were more or less the same as they arrived, but all had seen fantastic things in the preceding days and there was much to be discussed and investigated.

Commodore Meinhardt was finally able to function outside the infirmary. With his painkillers cut back, he now walked about on crutches looking absolutely miserable, his face pale and unshaven. His sharp eyes made clear that he was in a mood to listen more than he wished to talk, and so he would allow Detlev to help him direct the discussion. At the top of their agenda was to determine the most important discoveries made by the expedition, and a close second was to determine the course of their next departure.

"Dr. Dos Santos," Meinhardt began, grumbling, "we were told of Captain Alvarado's death this morning over telegram. What happened to him?"

 

[EdwardDewey98]

6th of October, 1919

As soothing and reassuring her dreams might have been, the fact that Captain Alvarado was gone still caused her tremendous sorrow and pain. When she got out of her seat to wash her face in the bathroom, someone knocked on the lab's door. She told the person on the other side to wait a second as she washed her face, and when she opened the door, she was surprised to see it was the first mate of the ship. Martin Mancinelli, still recovering from his horrible encounter with the wild canine-like beast that had attacked him on the other island. He had pale skin, tired eyes, and bandages covering his neck. "Doctor... we will bury him in an hour. Prepare yourself..." he said with clear sadness in his voice. Dos Santos couldn't look the young man in the eyes. She simply nodded, and closed the door as he shambled away.



An hour had passed, and the crew of the Correntino was gathered around the open grave. Slowly, the men lowered the coffin into it while praying. Everyone looked down at the simple wooden coffin with sadness and remorse. Some even cried, while trying to pray for the Captain's soul. Mancinelli struggled, but eventually raised his voice. Calling everyone's attention. "What happened yesterday was... a terrible hit to us. We lost... a truly amazing man." Dos Santos continued to look down at the coffin down below, but she listened to what the first mate said. "...Alvarado, the old ones on the crew know this but... he dedicated all of his life to the navy and the Correntino. He was but a young lad of 16 from a small farming village in the Marsosa province when he joined the republic's army...He never had children, he never married... When they asked him why, all he said that the Correntino was his family... His brothers, sisters... He even considered some of us his children. He treated me like his son... a-and..."

Mancinelli couldn't contain his emotions, he began crying as he spoke. "...A-and I considered him a father. Many of us did." More members of the crew began to cry. "He fought two wars, and he survived both of them. He continued to be a decent man. He didn't hate anyone, but like many of us...he forgave but never forgot those that wronged the Republic... And that's why he took us in this voyage. To prove the world that the Republic is not a pushover, and that our navy is strong..." He looked at Dos Santos "...To prove them that we have the best scientists as well..." Dos Santos began to cry now. This man, while she didn't agree with what he said at some points, was the one of the few that believed in her. He was gone. "He wanted everyone to remember the Republic, and that's why we won't give up!"

"After this is all over, we are going home with relics and fortune. We will teach the other crews that we are not pushovers. That while we forgive that their nations didn't aid us when we needed them, we won't forget it! We will come out of this stronger!" The crew, between cries, began to nod and shout in approval. "...And when we are back to San Marino... we will go back at our farms, our homes... with our wives, husbands.... our children. I have a grandmother waiting for me, and I sure as Hell want to go back and tell her that her grandson saw these strange lands. I want to go back and make her proud... and I want to make the Republic proud! That's what Alvarado wanted, and that's what we will do!" The morale of the Correntino had fell drastically, but now they had found some determination. Something to drive them forward. It was now time to go and meet with the other crews.

A few hours later...

For the first time in days, the crews were finally reunited. Dos Santos, with Mancinelli behind her, headed to reunion spot and was surprised to see the rough state of the Commodore. And that Kortova and Kuromaki had... changed. Kuromaki was even more strange than before, and Dos Santos felt terrible, thinking it was all product of the stone of Halja. Her attention quickly shifted to the Commodore, who asked her in a grumbling tone what had happened with Alvarado. "...After a failed expedition in a cave... he... came into contact with the black ooze... He... mutated, and asked to be put down." Dos Santos tried hard to not cry while thinking of that, but she wasn't able to hold her tears. She quickly wiped them away before continuing. "...The islands we explored were full of hostile creatures and monsters. We lost another crew member as well."

 

[Emperor Sagan]

The news of Alvarado's death was a small shock to Kortova, as if it was a reminder that death could come even to the upper echelon of the fleet. While she didn't particularly have much kindred feelings for the other captains given their limited interactions, and, she detected, some dismissiveness on their part concerning her, it was nonetheless unfortunate circumstances. On the other hand, it sounded like Alvarado had gone stomping around in a cave, something Kortova would almost certainly never do without a thousand men around her.

She was already aware of the commodore's condition when the telegram had reached them the other day. He certainly looked out of it, though if he was moving around, it probably wouldn't be too long before he was recovered for the most part. Kortova was uncertain of how she felt towards him, inclined to believe he would be more trouble to her than anything, but the loss of the commodore would certainly be a blow to the fleet given his experience and command. Her special compass was back in her cabin, a tool to be used for an emergency.

Kortova glanced around for Kuromaki, who was around here somewhere. The Sokorovian delegation was a small team of some officers and marines - all from the vanguard group. Lieutenant Williams was beside her with his files in hand, with a full report of everything that had occurred, including conditions of the Archangel and her crew. An official report, naturally. Not entirely accurate to the immutable truth, but what happened back on that island was known only to the special few. She made sure she was well aware of what was the official record, including Kuromaki.

"A terrible ordeal, truly," Grand Captain Kortova spoke up when the moment was right. "I think we shall all be less with the passing of the good captain. We can only go forward now and hope we do not tarnish his memory, and achieve for ourselves what fate would not allow for him."

She had her white gloved hands crossed politely on her lap as she bowed her head solemnly. They were the only part of her gradual transformation more or less concealed. She didn't speak as carefully to hide her fangs, and her newly sharpened ears pointed out past her hair beneath the brim of her furred cavalry cap. At one point she had worn shaded glasses for her eyes, but those to were gone now, too. No small part of her wanted to flaunt her beatific changes, yet this wasn't the place - nor were these the people to do it among.

A smile had to be suppressed when she considered how unblessed the others look. Some a little haggard, even. She wondered what they had all been up to. Probably digging around in sand and banging rocks together.

 

[Infab]

Warren and his delegation from the Jackal arrived promptly to the gathering, having spent two to three hours prior to the meeting writing up a full report of their own based on their findings on the pair of islands they had ventured to. No details were left out, as Warren made a habit of being upfront and honest in any official documentation that he produced. Even back home, his superiors noted how thorough his documentation was during his patrols and operations. Details were always important. A copy of the report was made for each captain as well as the commodore, so that they could read over it during the meeting, and produced by Slater upon their arrival to Detlev.

As the platoon of soldiers and officers, lead by Riddle, assumed their positions nearby, Warren and Slater sat with the captains. News of Alvarado's death was saddening. He seemed like a good man from what Warren knew of him. A real shame, honestly. After Kortova spoke, Warren offered his condolences. "She's right. A tragic loss, really, of both the honorable captain and your crewmate." he said, looking to Dos Santos. Once he finished, he glanced to Kortova, and his eyes widened. Her eyes had changed color, she now had fangs, and her ears were...pointed. Particularly sinister in appearance, but far less so than the Commissar that had been assigned to lord over the Commodore. Her mutations were far more drastic.

And then it sank in. The transmission by Kuromaki, searching for any sign or mention of an 'Ishra'. She and Kortova must have found it. His eyes narrowed. "My, Grand Captain, what interesting new features you and the Lady Commissar have. Let me guess...the both of you found this 'Ishra' the Commissar was looking for." he said, glancing between the pair. "I'd love to hear of your experiences. From the looks of things, you seem to have happily embraced your new looks."

She did seem particularly satisfied with herself. Most of her type would be horrified by the rather strange changes to their image, but she didn't seem to be. She wasn't even bothering to hide it. It likely wasn't a hostile encounter. And it was likely they went through the effort to hide what had happened in their official documentation. Really, he wanted to see how far she and Kuromaki took this charade.

 

[joshuadim]

Dobbs awoke rather calmly, if not a bit confused, as he looked around from his bed for a moment before realizing that he had something in his hand. The seal he had seen in his dream, the one given by the old caretaker, was now in his possession and Dobbs sat up to take a closer look at it. It was quite curious indeed that it had transferred over from a dream and into the material plane, and Dobbs couldn't help but wonder what importance something like this might have that has yet to truly reveal itself. In the meantime, Dobbs had to get himself ready for the meeting with the Commodore and the rest of the expedition to both report on his findings properly as well as to learn of the expedition's next destination. And so the captain got himself ready, but before leaving he decided to take the seal he had obtained with him and put it in his pocket for the time being... for good measure.

Later...

Dobbs, Lonstray, and a few sailors arrived to the Commodore's gathering back at the main island from when they first arrived to this chain. Everything seemed to be normal among the leadership... until Dobbs lay his eyes on Kortova and Kuromaki. The latter had gotten worse in her mutations, and more to boot, but Kortova's... it terrified him. Dobbs felt a bit of a sweat break out on his brow as he saw what was paramount to the beginnings of what he had witnessed in one of his dreams. He narrowed his eyes towards the young woman in both suspicion and fear, not breaking his line of sight with her as the meeting got underway. "My condolences to the crew of the Correntino for their loss." Dobbs spoke in a rather neutral tone as he continued his gaze of suspicion onto the Sokrovian captain.

Lonstray in the meantime was quite fascinated as to how Kortova and Kuromaki had mutated, moreso with the latter. It seems she has rapidly progressed... what of the other? he thought to himself before looking over to Dos Santos. He look at her hand and realized, with surprise, that her mutation had dissipated altogether as if it had never happened. Very interesting... I will need samples to compare. He then walked over quietly to Dos Santos to speak with her: "If I may so inquire... how did you manage to reverse your mutation? Was it a remedy that was brewed? Or was it something found that nullified the effects?" he asked in a hushed tone as to not disturb the ongoing of the meeting.

 

[Emperor Sagan]

Kortova's eyes flickered towards Warren. Her smile was neither warm nor friendly. "Mister Warren, I do not very much like your accusatory tone. I do not wish to speak too highly of myself - after all, modesty is a virtue I prize above all things - but I am happy to say that I stood up to protect my valiant crew in the face of an unknown power. Indeed - we discovered Ishra. Ishra is a... concept, you could say, the remains of a power that could perhaps be considered an otherworldly entity. Like an angel, or to others, a demon if you are so inclined to using such limited terminology. This residual power was strong. One of our crewmen, may he rest in peace, lost his mind to this exposure. I confronted the power and subdued it. My physical changes that you so rudely bring notice to are merely a side effect of my own exposure. In regards to Kuromaki, we believe this exposure has saved her from a more wicked transformation given her prior condition. It very well may have saved her life, healing her wounds very quickly after she first arrived," Grand Captain Kortova explained, trying not to lay it on too thick. She grabbed one of the copies of the official report and held it out. "I think you will learn a lot from reading our report. It is very comprehensive."

She cleared her throat and continued. "Island VI, which we are actually calling Ishra's Isle given the presence of this entity, is some manner of shrine. A cultural place, to our best guess. This power we know as Ishra is not hostile, simply... formidable. Sorcery is a very strange concept, I think we can all agree on. It is difficult to ascertain how it will function and why. What we know as Ishra could be a phantom, even, or a spirit of some sort. We believe that the unfortunate harm that fell upon our sole casualty was a result of an accident. After all, we were unannounced visitors to the island. Our motives were unknown until we consulted with this power."

Her words were chosen carefully so that she did not expressly indicate that Ishra was actually more than a simple, formless entity of magic. The official report indicated that they had found skeletal remains and theorized that they could have been dealing with a spirit, as she previously mentioned. The term demon, and even angel, were thrown around to muddle the perception that Ishra was likely a little more sinister than made out to be. For the moment, Kortova kept her words direct yet vague. Speaking without saying too much.

The looks Dobbs sent her way were also not particularly flattering and she didn't bother looking at the uncouth man.

 

[Infab]

Warren smiled. "You confronted and subdued the entity? My, what bravery." he said, as Slater took the report and began to read over it. He didn't need to read it, honestly. He straightened up in his seat, glancing towards the Commodore, before speaking again. "A young woman, such as yourself, would not dress the way that you do if she were attempting to appear modest. Nor would she refer to herself as a 'Grand Captain', or speak in a manner as to appear superior to everyone around her." he stated. "Your attempts at modesty will always be betrayed by your sheer ego, Miss Kortova."

He then motioned next to him, at the report that Slater held in her hands. "I'm sure that your report is quite comprehensive. One must cover all their bases, of course." he stated, before glancing to Kuromaki. "Mutation is still mutation. It may have healed her wounds, but she still has mutated to a state worse than her previous one. And now you've mutated, too. One would normally consider the thing causing such mutations hostile, and if an understanding was reached, the mutations should have been reversed. Demon may be the right choice of word. As for your motives on the island...when you go prying open coffins, crypts, and tombs...motives can be sorted out rather quickly."

His words were meant to prod at Kortova, as well as Kuromaki. If their stories were fabricated, then pressure would need to be applied to get things to slip.

 

[EdwardDewey98]

Dos Santos did not care for the sympathy of the others captains, because it felt unnatural after all they had went through in those cursed islands. She simply nodded as everyone gave their condolences before jumping into another topic, as if the lives every crew had lost was not something important to discuss. Warren and Dobbs were talking to Kortova and Kuromaki, who had mutated further. Dos Santos was surprised to the see the Grand Captain had changed as well, and she wondered if it was an effect of Halja's relics... but Warren was talking about something else entirely. Another deity or powerful being called Ishra. Kortova was very defensive. Were this a normal situation, Dos Santos would jump to the defense of her fellow lady-sister. But it was suspicious to say the least. Dos Santos jumped a little as she was approached by the other scientist of renown in this expedition, Dr. Lonstray, who asked how she managed to revert her mutations. Dos Santos didn't know what to say for a few seconds, before finally told the truth. "...I got in contact with a powerful being as well, Halja." She looked at everyone around her while showing her hand. "She helped me to remove the mutation from my body, but also taught me... or helped me to see a few new things." Dos Santos looked at Kuromaki and Kortova. "...If your mutations are a mistake or a curse, then I might be able to reverse the effects."

 

[K0mori]

"That's... enough, Captain," the Commodore spoke through clenched teeth immediately following Warren's harsh remarks about Kortova's actions. "We will read the report... discuss the findings within... without prejudice. The Archangel has suffered losses... much the same as the Correntino and the Terror. Are we not united in this endeavor? And besides, the Sokrovians weren't the only ones... prying open tombs. Mr. Detlev..."

Detlev cleared his throat. "We've stumbled onto some incredible and dangerous discoveries in these first days. It is our position not to jump to reckless conclusions about the motives of one officer or another. We only wish to ensure that the scope of this mission remains scientific in nature, and that these discoveries don't come at a severe human cost. If we start making wild accusations about one captain or another, if we cannot grant each other the most basic trust that successful expeditions rely upon, we might as well abandon the mission now and head for San Marino immediately, understood?"

The Captains were forced to agree, at least outwardly, as the Commodore nodded his head in approval. He had prepared a packet of handwritten notes that morning that Detlev studied closely in order to make such empowered remarks. It was then that Dr. Dos Santos revealed her encounter with Halja, moving the conversation along.

"You actually met Halja?" Meinhardt immediately replied, his dark expression finally lightening, a smile briefly appearing on his face. "Hah... Wunderbar..."

Detlev interjected. "You aren't the only Captain to have encountered a godlike being. Captain Warren has also supposedly made contact with a sort of deity, and I am sure we will soon be hearing about that. But since you've volunteered to share your experience first..."

All along, as the meeting progressed, Kuromaki was silent as she usually was, as her lack of familiarity with the Albionian language made it difficult to understand what was being said without the help of an interpreter. But this morning was different. Her eyes darted sharply from speaker to speaker, at first wide, but then, sly and observant. As it happened, she had managed to avoid interacting with anyone aboard the Archangel that morning as she stayed in her cabin, desperately trying to discover what sort of power she had gained from her first night of initiation into the great family, going so far as to skip breakfast and only emerging to join the Grand Captain for the meeting.

Ironically, she would have discovered her first gift much quicker if she had met with anyone else before the meeting. As they spoke, it barely registered to the Commissar that their words made perfect sense. For a moment, she assumed that they were speaking Alamannian, but that stopped making sense almost immediately. As she listened to their speeches it dawned on her that she would no longer be bound by language, just like Ishra when she possessed Kortova the previous day.

Kuromaki interrupted Detlev to reply to Dos Santos directly. She spoke neither Shinjuku nor Alamannian, or Albionian, for that matter, and yet everyone present understood her perfectly as her forked tongue danced gracefully behind her viciously sharp teeth. "Madam, I appreciate your offer, but we are all novices in these supernatural affairs. I am confident that what has happened to me will not threaten my life within the foreseeable future, and so I ask that we postpone any attempts to meddle with the sorcery controlling these changes until we're both confident that it won't cause any further irreversible damage."

"...What language was that?" Detlev asked after a moment.

Kuromaki looked at him sharply and smiled. "It is the same as spoken by Ishra. As the Grand Captain said, it is a powerful spirit which occupies that island, but not a hostile one. I am obviously not cured of my afflictions, but I would hardly say that it intended to curse me further. Now please, let's not delay any further. There are deities afoot on these islands?"

Meinhardt nodded, although his brow had furrowed once more as he looked over the Commissar and Kortova once more. "Yes... We'll discuss your condition later, Ensign... Dr. Dos Santos, Mr. Warren, either one of you..." he spoke, trailing off with a wave of his hand as if beckoning either one of them to speak up about their experiences, unaware that a third had also encountered a deity. Captain Dobbs would soon be surprising the fleet with his own tale, having met Astrius as well.

 

[Infab]

Warren shook his head, and motioned to the reports that Slater had given Detlev. "Everything is in that report in full detail. Our findings on the islands, my encounter with the winged mermaid goddess Merphrau, the flaming blue aetherine, the dreams I've had and the items recovered from them. Including the dream I had overnight." As the copies of his report were passed around, he continued. "My previous dreams and my most recent one are conflicting. Merphrau wishes for me to help prevent Wulfera from escaping a realm known as the Ashes, and stop her from doing terrible things in our realm. This involves black aetherine somehow, and finding the heir to a long dead necromancer. In most recent dream, however, I encountered a woman in a beautiful garden. She tells me her goddess will strike me down if I continue to follow the 'path of heresy' laid forth by my 'benefactor'. Her goddess also apparently slew a 'Great Enemy' as well. She advised me to leave the monument we recovered from the beach."

Warren looked around at everyone once he finished. "I'm getting mixed messages, and none of this makes sense." he finally said, pressing a hand to the side of his bandaged head. He then motioned to the reports. "As I said, every last detail is in those reports. I'd rather be up front and honest with you instead of hiding things." He then cut a look to Kortova, before looking to Kuromaki. Now she could speak to them in some unknown (potentially demonic) language, and they can understand her somehow? And she could understand them as well? Oh great.

 

[Emperor Sagan]

Kortova nodded somewhat smugly at the Commodore and Detlev's words as they backed her up against Warren, for the moment, whom was remarkably adamant in accusing her of being a liar, among other things. Perhaps he knows something, she wondered. A mental list in her head considered replacing the Commodore with Warren as the man to be looking out for. He was too aggressive and offhand. Then again, perhaps this was simply his personality. She didn't know him. There was also the possibility that this was all just projection, the man fearful for himself and attempting to shove it all on her. Hmph.

The Grand Captain also nodded to Kuromaki as she counted Dos Santos, though momentarily awed at the woman's mastery of some strange language that they could all understand. Her own words would have been similar. She certainly had no intention of stopping her own changes, and unless she faced something life threatening, she had no desire to let some novice poke around with sorcery and strange things to change her. The reveal that she had met Halja was very, very interesting.

Her theory on Warren using projection strengthened when the man spoke of his own experiences. More encounters with strange beings. A proclaimed goddess, none the less... and one objected to Wulfera.

Kortova opened her mouth to speak but was too slow - Lieutenant Williams was faster. "Commander Warren, I do not appreciate your tone nor continued accusatory manner towards the Grand Captain. Quite frankly sir, we do not know each other, and this aggressive attitude is as alarming as it is shameful. I had the liberty of putting together this report and if you happen to have a problem with it, then direct that towards me. I understand that your own experiences sound like they are rather fantastic, but I caution you not to allow these extraordinary circumstances devolve into paranoia."

As he fell silent, Kortova cleared her throat. "Yes, I must concur with my second in all regards there. I am not certain what we are to be gaining by being mischievous and shrouding what we had experienced. As I had mentioned, and as the report details quite thoroughly, we encountered several entities, foremost among them Ishra. Perhaps the Alleghenian way of things does not take into account the scientific method and spirit. We will not jump to lofty conclusions of conspiracy. That said... I will concur that things are rather mixed here, as you pointed out. These gods... evidently, there is some deep history to this place and I believe some sides had been drawn. This Wulfera I do not believe to be a... bad entity, in objective terms, as per our own careful and neutral examination of our findings. Perhaps some spirits are attempting to use us as conduits to further ancient animosity. After all, this Merphrau? Was it? Wants you to seek out black aetherine and the heir to a... necromancer? That sounds rather sinister, I dare say."

 

[Radley]

Earlier in the morning...

Flint awoke, calmly sitting in his bed while he mulled the dream over in his head. Although it hade been a somewhat frightening experience, it had instilled him a semblance of hope and progress. Even if he had not expressly seen anyone particular in his dream or been directly instructed, Flint felt as if something or someone was trying to aid him. The looking glass and the scroll seemed to have a connection, one which he would need to discover.

At the meeting...

Flints party consisted of only himself, Rourke and Von Panning. The report he had delivered was positively dry. It only contained a strict documentation of events, dreams and the acquisition of relics, noted more in the fashion of a list rather than a proper report. In Flints usual ways. It was written in short, terse sentences, and lacked flair in it's vocabulary. Anyone reading it could guess that while it's creator was an educated person, they positively despised fluff and additional nonsense.

As Dos Santos informed them about Alvarados death, Flint remained quiet. In recognition, he locked eyes with the doctor and gave her a respectful nod. His expression was sincere. Even though he had not had the time to get to know Alvarado, his loss did not sit well with Flint. As the meeting went on, it became clear to him that the Grand Captain and her crew would need to be kept at an arms length. Their embrace of the mutations and notable eagerness to not only keep, but to cultivate their newfound powers appeared suspicious to the Alleghenian. Both Kortovas and Kuromakis features made Flint uneasy, and seemed more demonic than angelic. He eyed them with a frown as Warren spoke, and he scoffed as he was berated by Meinhardt. Flint found it irritating that his choice to destroy dangerous artifacts had been met with dismissal, while fraternization with godly powers, be they benevolent or not, warranted the support of the Commodore. It made Flint question his superiors true motives for the expedition. How things were unfolding now, it seemed a split in the fleet could make itself apparent at one point or another. Who would be on what side would remain to be seen.

As Warren spoke of his experience and Williams and Kortova replied, Flint entered into the conversation
"Thats Captain Warren to you, Lieutenant." Flint spoke while eyeing Williams, before looking to Kortova, "And I would caution you not to allow your own extraordinary circumstances devolve into hubris." It was a berating tone. Flint had not liked Kortova one bit, even from the moment they first met. But when Williams decided to try to absorb the criticism directed at his superior, Flint finally but his dislike into words. Although it was veiled adequately, one could not mistake that Flint did not want to hear any more appeasements from the Aechangels part.

Turning to Warren he continued with his intended reply "The mural in the ziggurat tells a compelling story. Merphrau attacked this city and it's inhabitants, and in a desperate bid to survive such a biblical onslaught they turned to Wulfera. With her help they mastered that terrible art of necromancy and emerged victorious. The black aetherine, which we found on reanimated guardians, were nothing but red aetherine tainted with wicked soot that sucks the life energy out of whatever it touches."
Flint looked briefly to Kuromaki, whom he knew still possessed a charm, before facing the rest of the expedition, "This conflict has roots so ancient it seems difficult for us to comprehend. I would suggest we do not associate us with these powers beyond us until we know more. As Warren has said, the dreams tell us different things, but they are cryptic and contradictory. We need more time, and until then we should excercise caution in regards to these affiliations and their related boons" he finished, casting a dismissive look towards the grand captain and her ilk.

 

[joshuadim]

Dobbs stayed quiet as the captains bickered among each other, but his mind was already made: Kortova, nor her leftenant Williams, could not be trusted in any capacity. And he needed to speak with the Captain privately about his concerns at some point. In the meantime, he stayed quiet as he listened to both Warren and Flint speak about their experiences. Lonstray in the meantime was growing ever more curious about Dos Santos' miraculous recovery, as she described coming into contact with Halja. "Fascinating..." Lonstray muttered as he looked over Dos Santos' perfectly normal hand now before continuing to speak. "I discovered that blood from people exposed to raw aetherite tends to have an interesting reaction with some crystalline salt-esque cubes... if I could have another sample, I would like to test if your blood still holds that reactive property."

 

[Emperor Sagan]

Lieutenant Williams' expression towards Flint was hard-edged and annoyed. The minor correction striking him as incredibly pedantic given the lack of wider knowledge of the other man's promotion. Further more, his tone.... Alleghenian trash, he thought. The coarse attitude of their southern neighbors was always charming in the way a rat lounging in your soup would be. Unbeknownst to him, Kortova had a similar thought, applying an additional label in her mind - Alleghenian lowborn trash. To her, it seemed they were the only party behaving with any civility around here.

"Mister Flint," she said deliberately, choosing the more casual denomination between ship captains, "You are in no position to reprimand my own men. I do not know what has occurred exactly among our Alleghenian comrades, but it seems you both have returned to us disheveled, paranoid, and brash. This expedition is supposed to be a unified effort, and it seems to me that you cowboys mistake this meeting for a saloon gathering. I had hoped that the churlish attitudes would have been left at the door, but perhaps I had assumed too much. These childish, sour looks. Accusations of lies, again, for what purpose might I ask? We've barely even been here for half an hour now."

 

[K0mori]

"Kortova!" Snapped the Commodore, addressing her by name only. He clutched his chest painfully.

Detlev stepped up again. "Grand Captain, that was beyond inappropriate. Everyone, we have been deep in the jungle, digging through ruins, tombs, and caves for the last three days. We've been contending with supernatural forces, forboding nightmares, mutations, and death of all kinds. Many of us are injured, fatigued, and yes, lacking polish. But you cannot just dump your frustrations and paranoia on each other!

"Now, we have quite a lot to review en route to our next destination. In addition to all these encounters and occurances, were there any materials recovered that the expedition should be aware of?"

 

[EdwardDewey98]

Dos Santos was surprised by Kuromaki's new language, a language she somehow understood perfectly, before she could question her about it, she looked at Kortova, as she began to talk some nonsense about the looks and attitude of the Alleghenian crew. What a child. While Dr. Lonstray asked her about a blood sample, she looked at the doctor for a few seconds before nodding. "You'll have your sample, Doctor... this also reminds me, someone asked for a Blue Lo-"

"There's an old saying in the Republic...Never trust the blonde ones who think they are better than the rest." said a frail voice from behind Dos Santos. It was Mancinelli, standing there with his arms crossed. Giving a few looks of contempt at Kortova and Williams. "Behind their rosy pink cheeks and confident smiles, there is nothing but the mind of a snake...Look at their soft little hands and the sheer arrogance emanating from them. It is disgraceful." Dos Santos gave him a surprised look over her shoulder. "Sir...now is not the time. I... certainly don't appreciate the condescending nature of the child, but we have to work together." Mancinelli shook his head while motioning towards Kortova. "I am sorry, Doctor, but I don't tolerate arrogance... and that little duende is coated with it." Dos Santos sighed and rubbed her temples before looking back at Meinhardt, who asked her about her encounter with the deity.

"It was short, I am afraid... but it was in person. I was working in my laboratory when Halja herself appeared. A beautiful creature, she looked like a... I am sorry if this sound strange, a harmonious amalgamation of Plant and Animal life in a humanoid vessel. She... was truly something to behold." Dos Santos then pulled something out of her pocket. It was the stone that they had found on the dead Alleghenian sailor. "...This stone was just a test. She wanted me to understand its properties, and use it to change my body back to human form. I... sadly failed. I did not even think such thing was possible, as I just tried to rationalize my affliction and use scientific knowledge rather than open my mind to other paths of research. But despite my failure, she still granted me some insight in how to use Aetherine to look at souls, but also... change their vessels." Dos Santos would have loved to show an example at that moment, but she was still training her mind and body and such thing was impossible for the time being. "I am still trying to understand how to do such things. And how I can use it not only to aid my research, but... maybe... save us should we come in contact with..."

Her stare slowly drifted away, as she thought of her dream and what had happened with Alvarado. She was completely unaware that Detlev had asked everyone something, and then approached the commodore with determined look. "...I want to try my best and... try to save those that come into contact with the shadow mass. I think with just a bit more training, I might be able to understand it, and be able to heal those afflicted with it." She was serious about it, and wouldn't take no for an answer. As for what Detlev had asked, Mancinelli simply shook his head. He did not want to share that they had found raw Aetherite on the first island, at least not now. "We only found monsters and death..."

 

[Emperor Sagan]

The Grand Captain frowned at the commodore raising his voice at her, including Detlev's suggestion that it was she being the inappropriate one here. While the man had ultimately said nothing objectionable - it sure seemed like the others were tense from their experiences - she resented a reprimand when she was only defending herself against baseless assaults. She had no real love for any of the others, especially after this rocky start. At least the crew from Albion had remained civil, though Dobbs had sent strange looks her way. Maybe it was just indigestion, or something. Could hardly fault someone for that. For the moment, she took a deep breath and sighed, preferring to simply get the meeting over with and detail what else had been found as they continue their planning for the future....

.... until Mancinelli began speaking. At first she was simply shocked. Detlev, in the commodore's place, had more or less warned that he was not going to put up with the snappy attitudes of anyone. That was understandable. Kortova would have enforced the same thing had she been in charge. But the insults coming from this man were far too much for her to simply take without address. That this man openly said not to trust her... that she wore a mask and was truly a snake... and arrogant disgrace - it seemed every second he kept speaking her face grew a deeper shade of scarlet as her fury sparred with the incredulity rising within her. Her tight gloves strained against her clenched fists. Such insolence, yet Dos Santos' offhand remarks really sent her over the edge. The condescending child. Child.

The woman went on to prattle about some other things were Kortova closed her eyes and counted, a little trick to help keep her temper in check. She had no hairbrush with her to calm her down, no mirror either. While she had the power now to keep her appearance in perfect check, the therapeutic nature of her brush was a lifesaver. Ever since she was little she had a hairbrush with her. Out of all her belongings, it alone rated among the highest. Without it now felt like she was facing down a grizzled brown bear with a penknife.

She felt two little hot pinpricks on her lip. Slowly, she dabbed the back of her white glove against her mouth as something warm dribbled out of her mouth. There were two blossoming stains of red on her glove, which were quickly smeared as she wiped her mouth further. She had bit her lip with her fangs. Lieutenant Williams had noticed this, and produced a handkerchief from his jacket, which he passed to her. She took it but didn't use it, instead licking her lips as she looked over towards Mancinelli as he and Dos Santos finished speaking.

"A man I am not even acquainted with insulting me in such a manner would be laying in the gutter with a black eye back home, and I dare say, anyone with self-worth greater than a worm would have a similar reaction," she said in what amounted to a hiss. "I was rather quite through with the houndish attitudes of my colleagues, but such... blatant disrespect... how dare you! I offer nothing but sympathies for your losses and I get the venom of a viper in return. To insult my features... my integrity... my intentions... my very stature...." Finally, she wiped her mouth with the handkerchief as more blood beaded on her bottom lip, threatening to drip down her chin.

"And to be called a c... c-child," she continued, barely holding on, glaring at Dos Santos. The number counting in her head had gone far off track by now. What number had she even been on? Five? Twenty? Sixty? "I am no child. I am a woman and I have been for many years. You call me arrogant, yet you as a subordinate clearly have no comprehension of your place in addressing a senior officer. Of all the things you could call me... madam, miss, captain, even my name, you cannot even manage."

Her crystal sharp gaze drifted back to Mancinelli beside her. "And whatever the bloody hell a duende is. Can't even speak it in the common tongue, can you? I could call you an," her voice shifted as she suddenly changed to her native Sokrovian, ["insolant, lowborn, miserable little cock-sucking wretch..."]

"But that wouldn't be very ladylike or professional, least of all in my own language," she finished, wiping away the slowing blood from her lip again. Kortova then glanced towards Detlev and the commodore. "Was that inappropriate? No one who can call themselves a military officer, ship captain, or leader of men should be forced to take such abuse, and so far too much has been graciously sent my way all because I happen to look a little different. I mean, I've already been accused of lying how many times now? What is even the purpose of my being here if I am going to be insulted, repeatedly, by nearly everyone at this table? It is one thing if our documents were put into question by contrary evidence... yet no one has even had the time to fully read the documents, ask for clarifications, or anything. It has all been nasty looks."

"I will not be set up to be a scapegoat for anyone else's failings, as it so appears to me that everyone else is trying to do."

 

[EdwardDewey98]

Mancinelli looked at Kortova as she had snapped at him and Dos Santos with such ferocity that it actually surprised him a bit, but instead of looking even a little apologetic, the Platine man simply laughed while looking at Dos Santos. "Podes creer a esta nena insolente?" He looked back at Kortova, his smile only growing bigger. "I am Mancinelli, first mate of the Correntino, and I refuse to call you by your made up rank." Dos Santos gave the commodore an apologetic look while trying to distance herself from Mancinelli as much as she could. "Where I come from, we only call real soldiers by their rank, like Captain Alvarado, he fought two wars, how many have you fought? how ships have been destroyed by your fleet? have you ever gone to the turrets and fired upon enemy ships? or helped the men load a missile? Your pristine little hands and haughty little voice only show otherwise, that you have never sweated next to your men, to me you are just a poisonous snake with a funny little hat." "Enough." Shouted the doctor, Mancinelli turned to look at Dos Santos, who gave him a tired look. "Por favor, Mancinelli... paré, ella no va a parar hasta que crea que gano, just let it go."

 

[joshuadim]

"Bloody HELL." Dobbs suddenly piped up, an annoyance laced in his tone. "This is a meeting for the expedition, not a socialite event." The Albionian captain pinched and rubbed the top of his nose in exasperation as he shook his head. "You're all acting like bloody children instead of responsible adults. So can we go five FUCKING MINUTES without throwing insults at each other?"

 

[Emperor Sagan]

"My rank is not made up and my hat is most certainly not funny!" Kortova shouted, standing up, though Captain Dobbs' outburst cut her off as she returned to her seat after a lingering moment. Her arms were firmly crossed as she glanced between Dobbs and the Platine group.

"The gentlemen from Albion is right. But I must set the record straight that grand captain is a highly traditional and respected Sokrovian title that is retained by esteemed captains under their own discretion. It is part of our culture and you offend all of Sokrovy for such an insult," she spat back. "And my hat isn't funny! It is both fashionable and practical, but what would you know about either of those things?"

"Mister Mancinelli," Lieutenant Williams spoke up when Kortova busied herself with the increasingly bloody handkerchief. "I would ask that you not insult my captain's ability. While she may not be a combat veteran herself - I am. This isn't a war party, but a scientific expedition. Having serviced the gundeck is no prerequisite for leadership, least of all in any navy. Indeed, some of the finest officers in history never stood in the line column. Your swashbuckling attitude is unnecessary," he stated calmly.

Kortova nodded heavily, supporting the lieutenant.

 

[Radley]

As the bickering continued, Flint sat in his chair and mentally rolled his eyes over the whole affair. While he did expect a more eloquent response from Dobbs, he agreed whole-heartedly with the sentiment. They were supposed to discuss the facts and then be on their way. Even though he did not trust Kortova, he did not appreciate Mancinellis open insults. It only resulted in a shouting match, and Flint gripped the bridge of his nose as he wished for the meeting to be over so they could be on their way.

As Kortova and Mancinelli argued, Rourke leaned in over his Captains shoulder, "Does a title such a Grand Captain actually exist, sir?" He asked quietly with a youthful curiosity. "It does exist indeed." Flint answered, "But aside from its royal origins it is no longer a title I would consider fully valid. It equates to me only a individual who requires the rank of captain yet possesses no actual merits for it."

When Detlev broke of the squabble and requested that accounts about acquired materials be brought up, Flint gestured to Rourke, who took out a piece of paper from his coat.
He stepped up next to his captain and cleared his throat before beginning to adress the gathering.
"Items of note acquired by the crew of the Terror and assisting parties are as follows:
One large scroll of Altanic texts, in good condition.
Three charms of black aetherine, two of which have been destroyed on the command of Captain Flint. One remains intact in the possession of Commissar Kuromaki of the Nixe.
One silver looking glass with a seemingly aetherine imbued mirror. Acuired by Captain Flint in a dream."
As Rourke finished the list he folded the paper, handed it to Detlev and return to stand behind his Captain.
Flint sat in his chair and looked to Meinhardt. The encounter within the ziggurats, both with the undead as well as the dark sarcophagus were detailed in his report to the Commodore, but he did not wish to discuss it with certain parties present at the meeting, unless pressed to do so. As Detlev had only requested to hear about actual items and not discoveries, real or from a dream, Flint remained quiet on those matters.

 

[Infab]

Warren went to speak once more, but stopped when he felt Slater's hand rest on his arm. When he glanced over, she gently shook her head as she continued to read over William's report. The more she read it, the odder is seemed to her. Kortova somehow managing to subdue the entity, which had killed one of her crew. An egotistical, exiled royal clinging to the title of Grand Captain, with no merits or experience to back it up. William's actions made him come off to her like a butler, or a yes man, clad in military clothing. Where was he during their encounter with the entity Ishra? One would assume that William would have quickly moved to defend his 'Grand Captain.' And if this entity was as hostile as they made it out, slaying one of their men without hesitation, one could say that both Kortova and William would have likely been slain quickly for the forceful intrusion upon its resting place. Especially as they had never been to these lands before, and likely did not know how to communicate with these entities. Though, Slater's own captain spoke with a goddess himself, so that logic proved a little faulty.

The mutations were an oddity, as Kortova was mutated to an extent and Kuromaki was mutated further than she had been previously. And both seemed perfectly fine with their mutations. Happy, in fact. Kuromaki, before her search for this Ishra, was panicking and in fear of further mutation. Just like Dos Santos, she imagined. To see her mutated far further than before, and having obtained a new unknown language, without any hint of panic, fear, or depression was certainly something to be suspicious about. And if this Ishra was quelled and they were now on neutral terms with it, why were they still mutated? And why had Kuromaki been gifted with the ability to speak this entity's language? Did Kortova receive the same gift? It didn't appear so, considering could not understand Mancinelli's insults while Kuromaki seemed to understand everyone speaking. And why would the entity even bother healing Kuromaki? Very interesting indeed. And very suspicious.

Eventually, Slater closed William's report and casually tossed it onto the table before her. The look on her face expressed her thoughts on it, giving a judging look to Kortova and Kuromaki. She then spoke, as she looked back to the Commodore and Detlev. "The Jackal discovered the ruins of a small settlement on one island, destroyed during a war between Wulfera and Merphrau. We recovered a small cache of aetherine, some marked and some not. One survivor was recovered from the first island, a Ruthenian from a previous expedition. An iron statue of Merphrau was also recovered from the first island. The second island is where we discovered a hastily built structure dedicated to the worship of Merphrau. A shrine was also discovered on the beach, with inscriptions written in an unknown language. We believe it to be the language of an aquatic race whom worshiped Merphrau. A large blue hunk of aetherine sits atop the shrine. A small coral necklace was also discovered on the second island, within the temple dedicated to Merphrau, along with several small samples of shadow mass. Recovered from Captain Warren's dreams were one chunk of black aetherine, one small crystal orb used to see the 'original, living face' of someone whom is now dead, and one bough from a 'sacred tree' in a garden featuring a veiled woman whom appears to be already deceased."

Slater motioned to the reports that they had brought. "All of this is in the reports we have written, sir." she stated, before looking back to Kortova. "And I do agree, Miss Kortova. Calling someone a 'insolant, lowborn, miserable little cock-sucking wretch' would be very unprofessional and unladylike." Her college education seemed to come into some use here. "It surprises me quite immensely when someone such as yourself uses such language, and forces me to believe that you are not of the image you project. Now, I believe we have a meeting to focus on. We can save the foul language and insults for another time, and I believe we should try and save our Commodore some pain and his officer the headache."