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Fantasy The Reliquary [Main]
- Thread starter Scaleless
- Start date
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- Tags
- exploration fantasy scp
Scaleless
Weewoo weewoo
Lianhe— The Obelisk—1
The atmosphere of the Reliquary was like something from a dream. The walls, although seemingly made of stone, moved and shifted in ways that made it seem as if they were liquid. Everything seemed to be in motion, the air thick with a mysterious energy. At the center of the Reliquary was a single, golden orb that seemed to float in the air. It was a connection to the entire world, each country, each city, each person was represented within its golden hues. The orb was a reminder of the infinite possibilities that exist in the world and the Reliquary was a place where one could find the mysterious artifacts that could unlock them.
The light from the orb was mesmerizing and the air felt charged with palpable energy. As one moved closer to the orb, a peculiar sensation washed over them, a feeling that could not be explained by our everyday language. It was a feeling of awe, reverence, and being part of something larger than oneself. The orb seemed to be a gateway to another realm, a realm of secrets and mysteries, of things that had been hidden away for centuries. The Reliquary was a place of knowledge, a place for the curious to explore and discover the secrets of the universe.
The man sitting next to the golden orb was a vision of grace and wisdom. He had a strong, yet gentle face, framed by a head of golden locks that spilled over his shoulders. His eyes were bright and alert, seeming to take in everything around him with an almost magical understanding. He was clad in a deep crimson robe that seemed to fit him just right as if it had been tailored specifically for him. He seemed to be an elderly figure, yet his presence was that of a man in his prime, powerful and confident. He was the custodian of the Reliquary, a keeper of its secrets and artifacts. He was known only as the Grand Curator, a worthy title for one who held such a great responsibility.
Behind the Grand Curator, standing in a perfect posture of strength and readiness, was a young boy. His hair was a deep shade of brown, his eyes an ice grey. His face was composed and his gaze seemed to take in everything around him with a sage-like understanding. His body was that of a trained warrior, his movements light and precise. He seemed to be older than his age suggested as if he had seen more than any child his age should have. He had the look of a protector, a guard against the darkness that lurked in the shadows of the Reliquary. He was a guardian, a warrior of the truth, and a protector of the secrets held within.
Beside the boy was a woman of tan complexion, her brown hair cascading down her back. Her skin was a light tan, her hair a deep shade of brown, and her eyes a brilliant amber. She carried herself with grace and confidence, her movements calculated yet filled with a certain grace. She had the look of a thief, her eyes filled with a mischievous spark and her fingers always twitching, as if she was searching for something to steal. Despite her obvious affinity for mischief, her bearing was noble.
Standing to the woman's left was a strange figure, a pumpkin man with a wide, round body, and a face that seemed to be smiling mischievously. He was dressed in bright colors, his clothing adorned with symbols and markings that were unfamiliar to most. He seemed to be a jester of sorts, a playful spirit that brought a bit of joy and laughter to the otherwise solemn atmosphere of the Reliquary. He had an infectious energy about him, and an aura that seemed to be inviting and comforting. He was a reminder of the joy and mystery to be found within the Reliquary and the secrets that it held.
To the pumpkin man's left was a man in full metal armor. He was tall and imposing, his face hidden behind a metal mask. He was a silent figure, his presence commanding and yet his voice soft and gentle. He seemed to exude a sense of strength and courage, a protector of the Reliquary and its secrets. He carried a sense of duty, of a mission that must be fulfilled. He was a knight, a hero, a guardian of the mysteries held within the Reliquary. He was a reminder that there were those who protected and defended the secrets of the world.
To the knight's right was a nervous teenager, their eyes darting around the room as if searching for something. They seemed to carry two spirits in one body, their movements suggesting both fear and courage. They were a strange sight, a young teenager on the cusp of adulthood, their eyes wide with wonder, yet their body seemed to yearn for something more. They seemed to be searching for something, a truth, a power, something that they could not quite explain. They seemed to be torn between two worlds, between the reality they knew and the mysterious realm beyond. They were a reminder that we all carry within us the potential to unlock the secrets of the world if we but open our eyes to the possibilities.
The last figure in the room was a short young man with dark, unruly hair. His hands were calloused and rough, a testament to his many hours spent at the forge. He was a craftsman, a creator of things that seemed to defy the laws of nature. He was a bringer of life, a maker of wonders, and a master of the unseen. He was a reminder of the power of creation, of the possibilities that exist if one is willing to take the time to craft something from nothing. He was a reminder that even the most mundane of things can have a profound effect on the world.
Tracers—it was the shared duty shared between the mass of bodies gathered before the orb's golden hue. It was their duty to ensure that the Reliquary's body would never go hungry. The Grand Curator opened his mouth to speak, to entrust them all with a new mission. “Lianhe. It is a town in Atacama. A town that I am certain you have not heard of until now,” his hands gestured in wide breadths as he spoke. The orb hummed lowly as it spun, to the country of Atacama, then it zoomed in on a desolate spot in the middle of nowhere.
As the Grand Curator spoke, the orb created an image of a run-down town in the desert. It was a place of desolation, the buildings cracked and crumbling, the streets empty and silent. “This was Lianhe, only 2 months ago. And now…” The orb transformed the image of Lianhe, from a desolate ruin into a bustling oasis. The buildings were repaired, the streets were filled with life, and a dazzling river ran through the center of the town. People of all ages and backgrounds were now milling about, their faces alight with joy and excitement. It was a sight to behold, a transformation that was nothing short of miraculous.
“There is no doubt—we are seeing the effects of an ASC. I trust you to locate and retrieve it. Ask questions, investigate suspicious landmarks, and interrogate who you need to. Do everything in your power to bring it back to me. ASCs like this…they rarely give such gifts without cost.”
An aged hand tunneled into his robes, jiggling the fabric madly until producing a rolled-up and wrinkled document. The Curator unfurled it and brought it close to his face for further inspection. “Ah! Some places and details of interest to you. Saint Obleks Obelisk is at the center of Lianhe and a key piece to their heritage. The town used to be fraught with gold, and its obelisk was made of the very same material. As its mines began to dry, the structure was torn down and sold. And yet here it is, standing once again in the very same place.”
His eyes seemed to linger for a moment, before sliding downwards. “There is a young girl, by the name of Khata. A mascot of sorts, who has been responsible for leading festivals as of late. From what I gathered, she had a history of illnesses. And yet, she, much like the town has found a second gust of life.” He turned to the pumpkin man and stuffed the paper into one of his wardrobe pockets. “There is a map on the back. The obelisk is marked in red ink, but I doubt you would miss it.”
His posture became stern, as he raised his head and folded his arms behind his back. “Ask me questions if you have the need. If not, simply approach the orb and tap the marker with your index finger. It will teleport you to a discrete location within the town.”
… at Lianhe …
The desert oasis of Lianhe was a magical place. The sun shone brightly in the sky, illuminating the golden sand that surrounded the ancient town. In the distance, the cheers and chatter of a festival and an inn could be heard, but in this empty area, there was nothing but the stillness of the desert.
The sand was untouched, without a single footprint or other sign of life. It was a vast expanse of unending, golden sand, seemingly stretching on forever. The sun sparkled on the grains, creating a breathtaking display of light. The air was dry and hot, and the occasional gust of wind rustled the sand, sending spirals of dust into the sky.
On the horizon, the mountains rose, their jagged peaks reaching for the sky. They provided a stark contrast to the flat, featureless desert and were a reminder of the beauty and majesty of nature. The sun beat down on the vast expanse of sand, baking it until it was a uniform shade of beige. The sand stretched out for miles, interrupted only by the occasional jagged rock formation. A few lonely tumbleweeds rolled lazily across the desert floor, their shadows dancing in the heat.
The oasis of Lianhe was a vision of calm amid the blistering desert. Its waters shone like a blue sapphire in the bright sunlight. The nearby palm trees rustled softly in the gentle breeze, providing some much-needed relief from the heat. But even in this peaceful oasis, there was a place of silence and isolation. A place of perfect stillness. It was here that you would arrive, just 10 minutes away from the buzz of the town.
Gears
RaiAthar
Spoiled Bread
Squad141
BananaMuffin
ScatheAriiasqDrayceon
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ScatheAriiasqDrayceon
Just cause I read worse don't mean it ain't cursed
Arii was many things—a habitual liar, an incense for trouble, and perhaps too curious for their own good. What they were not was stupid.
Something was going on in this strange place—reliquary, the others called it—and it was something that defied their comprehension of the world. They tried not to think too hard on it. Even still, their eyes caught on the golden orb and its miasma of light. Like a particularly interesting relief, it drew them in, almost such that they took a step forward. Again, though, they weren't stupid, and settled for leaning perhaps a bit precariously closer.
Their attention didn't take long to drift to the man holding the orb, though they found themself significantly less fascinated. He was odd, sure—Arii didn't quite think they'd seen someone that old—was there any flesh under that skin, or was it simply bone?
Don't be rude.
Jet—having been cautiously attentive since they'd been summoned—finally offered his piece... even if it was superfluous. Had Arii have been properly paying attention before, they certainly weren't now, as they shooed away the chiding of their—what did those people call him? Parasite? That was odd, right?
They weren't on topic at all, musing to themself about the validity of Jet's (Lamprey's?) status as a parasite, and their own reservations about certain words, which then slowly drifted into their dislike of wearing gloves. It was only when light flashed in their eyes that they snapped back into themself, having to take a moment to readjust and catch up on everything they were supposed to be listening to by simple context clues.
Lianhe—apparently an interesting place—didn't used to be like that. Something happened to "fix it,"—so it absolutely used to be some weird decrepit ruin. They kept the texture of the thought in their hand to help them stay on task as Old Man—something about a collector?—continued in his speech. It was, perhaps, a few long seconds before Ariiasq realized that his trailing words (of which they only barely caught) were a call to action.
They blinked—a theatric affair that took a few breaths too long—and, after a jolting, twitching shake, they stepped their way over to the orb.
The hair on the back of their neck raised, their back prickling with the idea of their fellow tracers lurking behind them. There was little change in their demeanor—perhaps their breaths came a little slower and more purposeful, and they stepped slightly to the side as if they could keep the remainder of the group in their sight—but they tapped the marker without a word, and just a little bit too fast.
They probably should have realized earlier that somewhere in Atacama would be hot. Still, the absolute stampede of heat positively flattened them, kicking the breath from their lungs and sending them skipping "backward" a few times as if they could run from the heat—they didn't actually think that. It was more a reflex than anything. Jet, for his part, did little but squirm uncomfortably, his presence in the back of their head shifting.
By the time the rest of their apparent party had appeared with them, they'd shed their outer layer to—at Jet's insistence—act as a shade from the burning hellfire circle in the sky. They were, in fact, so displeased with the development of being closer to the equator that as soon as they deemed everyone having arrived (Jet informed them that, no, not everyone was there when they started, but they were already talking, so it mostly got drowned out), they started trying to get people (and living scarecrow thing) moving.
With flapping hands and jittering movements, they started off far too quickly for someone with such delayed reactions. "So, plans? Plots? Ideas? Anyone?" Notably, even if anyone did want to speak, doing so would be nigh impossible—Arii's volume fluctuated sharply with every word out of their mouth, and there was hardly a pause between syllables. Honestly, it was as if they didn't need to breathe when they spoke. "We all agree that the obelisk and the girl are really ominous—right? I should hope—the whole town's a might weird, but—targets, and the such—so—" They lost steam with an abrupt, strangled noise, something akin to a frustrated hiss and a bird's squawk.
It was a moment before they finished. "Splitting up doesn't seem like a good idea—we don't have a way to communicate—but that sacrifices speed, so—" They blinked that odd, processing blink again. "Plan?"
Something was going on in this strange place—reliquary, the others called it—and it was something that defied their comprehension of the world. They tried not to think too hard on it. Even still, their eyes caught on the golden orb and its miasma of light. Like a particularly interesting relief, it drew them in, almost such that they took a step forward. Again, though, they weren't stupid, and settled for leaning perhaps a bit precariously closer.
Their attention didn't take long to drift to the man holding the orb, though they found themself significantly less fascinated. He was odd, sure—Arii didn't quite think they'd seen someone that old—was there any flesh under that skin, or was it simply bone?
Don't be rude.
Jet—having been cautiously attentive since they'd been summoned—finally offered his piece... even if it was superfluous. Had Arii have been properly paying attention before, they certainly weren't now, as they shooed away the chiding of their—what did those people call him? Parasite? That was odd, right?
They weren't on topic at all, musing to themself about the validity of Jet's (Lamprey's?) status as a parasite, and their own reservations about certain words, which then slowly drifted into their dislike of wearing gloves. It was only when light flashed in their eyes that they snapped back into themself, having to take a moment to readjust and catch up on everything they were supposed to be listening to by simple context clues.
Lianhe—apparently an interesting place—didn't used to be like that. Something happened to "fix it,"—so it absolutely used to be some weird decrepit ruin. They kept the texture of the thought in their hand to help them stay on task as Old Man—something about a collector?—continued in his speech. It was, perhaps, a few long seconds before Ariiasq realized that his trailing words (of which they only barely caught) were a call to action.
They blinked—a theatric affair that took a few breaths too long—and, after a jolting, twitching shake, they stepped their way over to the orb.
The hair on the back of their neck raised, their back prickling with the idea of their fellow tracers lurking behind them. There was little change in their demeanor—perhaps their breaths came a little slower and more purposeful, and they stepped slightly to the side as if they could keep the remainder of the group in their sight—but they tapped the marker without a word, and just a little bit too fast.
They probably should have realized earlier that somewhere in Atacama would be hot. Still, the absolute stampede of heat positively flattened them, kicking the breath from their lungs and sending them skipping "backward" a few times as if they could run from the heat—they didn't actually think that. It was more a reflex than anything. Jet, for his part, did little but squirm uncomfortably, his presence in the back of their head shifting.
By the time the rest of their apparent party had appeared with them, they'd shed their outer layer to—at Jet's insistence—act as a shade from the burning hellfire circle in the sky. They were, in fact, so displeased with the development of being closer to the equator that as soon as they deemed everyone having arrived (Jet informed them that, no, not everyone was there when they started, but they were already talking, so it mostly got drowned out), they started trying to get people (and living scarecrow thing) moving.
With flapping hands and jittering movements, they started off far too quickly for someone with such delayed reactions. "So, plans? Plots? Ideas? Anyone?" Notably, even if anyone did want to speak, doing so would be nigh impossible—Arii's volume fluctuated sharply with every word out of their mouth, and there was hardly a pause between syllables. Honestly, it was as if they didn't need to breathe when they spoke. "We all agree that the obelisk and the girl are really ominous—right? I should hope—the whole town's a might weird, but—targets, and the such—so—" They lost steam with an abrupt, strangled noise, something akin to a frustrated hiss and a bird's squawk.
It was a moment before they finished. "Splitting up doesn't seem like a good idea—we don't have a way to communicate—but that sacrifices speed, so—" They blinked that odd, processing blink again. "Plan?"
Gears
Harbinger of War, Chaos, and Poptarts
Edward stood tinkering as the Grand Curator spoke with a device. It spun and shifter while glowing with green light until he willed it to disappear. He searched his memory for any knowledge of this city but couldn’t think of any past knowledge that could help him.
Spoiled Bread
The Lord of the Uneaten
Ricotta Bonne
Location: The reliquary -> Lianhe
The reliquary had always been a nice change of pace from the usual crowdy city Rico was living in. It's also such a cool place that sometimes she went into the reliquaries just to take a nap. This time though, there's a job to do. She watched curiously as the grand curator brief them on their new mission, her eyes went wide at the sight of desolate city turned into prosperous one in just two months. Even if they threw all the money in the world to develop the place it shouldn't take this short of a time to fix the entire place. She didn't have question yet about the mission so she simply touched the mark and let herself be transported to Lianhe. She stretched her body as the familiar heat of the sun greeted her.
"Calm down, Ari. Breath in... breath out..." Rico didn't seems to be in rush at starting the mission as she noticed Ari's obvious discomfort at their current situation. "Is this your first time in Atacama? Welcome then. Our samsya up there can be a bit harsh so don't forget to keep yourself hydrated."
Also don't forget that we do can communicate. Rico's voice suddenly appeared to anyone who wear the halo ring. That mean everyone except Howden can hear it.
"Anyway, I think splitting up is a good idea. The ASC might not be hostile, or event sentient to begin with. Faster information gathering would be more beneficial. Isn't that right, jadda?" Rico threw a wide playful grin as she looked at the oldest individual among them, Arthus. Despite his looks he was the oldest and respecting elderly was one of the value people from Atacama usually have. Ever since she learned that Arthus was actually much older than her she had been treating him as he if he was her grandpa, for better or worse.
Location: The reliquary -> Lianhe
The reliquary had always been a nice change of pace from the usual crowdy city Rico was living in. It's also such a cool place that sometimes she went into the reliquaries just to take a nap. This time though, there's a job to do. She watched curiously as the grand curator brief them on their new mission, her eyes went wide at the sight of desolate city turned into prosperous one in just two months. Even if they threw all the money in the world to develop the place it shouldn't take this short of a time to fix the entire place. She didn't have question yet about the mission so she simply touched the mark and let herself be transported to Lianhe. She stretched her body as the familiar heat of the sun greeted her.
"Calm down, Ari. Breath in... breath out..." Rico didn't seems to be in rush at starting the mission as she noticed Ari's obvious discomfort at their current situation. "Is this your first time in Atacama? Welcome then. Our samsya up there can be a bit harsh so don't forget to keep yourself hydrated."
Also don't forget that we do can communicate. Rico's voice suddenly appeared to anyone who wear the halo ring. That mean everyone except Howden can hear it.
"Anyway, I think splitting up is a good idea. The ASC might not be hostile, or event sentient to begin with. Faster information gathering would be more beneficial. Isn't that right, jadda?" Rico threw a wide playful grin as she looked at the oldest individual among them, Arthus. Despite his looks he was the oldest and respecting elderly was one of the value people from Atacama usually have. Ever since she learned that Arthus was actually much older than her she had been treating him as he if he was her grandpa, for better or worse.
RaiAthar
...Whatever
Before the departure to Lianhe, Arthus had packed his travel sac with a full waterskin and more beef-jerky than what was needed. The pack contained no vegetables whatsoever, of course. He wasn't about to forget the Marks -the currency of the land. Then he had changed into attire that was more suited to the weather of Atacama: a traditional Atacaman headdress with a grey and white checkered pattern; a light grey knee-length garment with long sleeves, similar to a robe and with cuffs that extend a little beyond his hands; a pair of loose leggings -also light grey- that ended with cuffs half-way between the knees and ankles; and leather close-heeled sandals. Over top everything he wore an off-white cloak.
Arthus may well have been the oldest -numerically- among the Tracers present here, but at the core of his heart was an innocent restless energy -very childlike in temperament. Despite his advanced age this child-like temperament often 'poked' free, at times very easily finding chinks in the metaphorical armour of wisdom and maturity that he so often donned. It was an armour that oft times presented itself as overbearing and sanctimonious in bearing to those who were not familiar with Arthus. This was not a clash of two distinct personalities, however. The boy and the old man Jadda were two sides of the same coin; one and the same.
Immediately after making landing, Arthus began dragging his feet through the hot desert sand, shifting the fine quartz particulate between his toes -it was alway an odd yet comfortable sensation. The hot and dry air seemed to lift his already lifted spirits. He dug his feet deeper into the sand. "Tarnation! I have been snared in the sinking sands. Leave me; save yourselves!" he jested, smiling in glee and bubbling with baited giggles. There had been a 'dry spell' of activity in the Reliquary as of late, so Arthus was just a little over-excited at the opportunity to get out and play in the desert. It was entirely possible that the other tracers had not heard Arthus due to Arii's peculiar and interesting way of speaking, bordering on comical from Arthus's frame of reference, especially the squaking bit at the end which had forced him to suppress an outburst of laughter with one free hand.
An agitated and perhaps guilt-ridden sigh escaped from Arthus's nostrils after Ricotta spoke up. He always found it odd that this desert lady was named after a type of cheese that was common to Korinthos (Kronos)... In any case, he had made it clear to her on multiple occasions that his name was Arthus, not Jadda. Furthermore, he had even gently accosted her over the importance of referring to individuals by their preferred name -anything else was simply disrespectful; impolite; and rude. Still, he couldn't help but find her teasing somewhat endearing. It made him blush...slightly. In truth, Ricotta's behaviour reminded him of his twin sister, Morrigan, who had often teased him so as she grew older.
"Lady Ricotta, if not for me, then for Sir Owlsworth's sake, give the young lad some breathing room..." Arthus glanced over to where Arii was, "Sir Arii, while I do appreciate your eagerness to get on with this matter, Lady Ricotta is right; we have the Halo to communicate at long distances. 'Tis better if we split our forces as to not garner too much unwanted attention. Have faith in your abilities Sir Arii! Sir Know-it-Owl appointed all of us as Tracers for a reason!" Arthus flashed a warm and confidant smile to all who were present. "And I mean no offense Sir Arii, but the manner in which you amble and speak...if it is within your abilities to 'tone it down' a little, I suggest you do so if you have an inclination to take less notice from the locals."
Once again, Arthus brought his attention back to the amber-eyed Atacaman lady, "I realize we have more pressing matters to attend to...but what were those edibles called again...the delightfully sweet dried fruit...dots, I think...NO! Dates! Lets-get-some-dates-first! Pleeease?" Whether or not Riccota or whoever else would tag along, Arthus was on his way to the town of Lianhe to procure himself some fresh dates from the buzzing marketplace.
Arthus may well have been the oldest -numerically- among the Tracers present here, but at the core of his heart was an innocent restless energy -very childlike in temperament. Despite his advanced age this child-like temperament often 'poked' free, at times very easily finding chinks in the metaphorical armour of wisdom and maturity that he so often donned. It was an armour that oft times presented itself as overbearing and sanctimonious in bearing to those who were not familiar with Arthus. This was not a clash of two distinct personalities, however. The boy and the old man Jadda were two sides of the same coin; one and the same.
Immediately after making landing, Arthus began dragging his feet through the hot desert sand, shifting the fine quartz particulate between his toes -it was alway an odd yet comfortable sensation. The hot and dry air seemed to lift his already lifted spirits. He dug his feet deeper into the sand. "Tarnation! I have been snared in the sinking sands. Leave me; save yourselves!" he jested, smiling in glee and bubbling with baited giggles. There had been a 'dry spell' of activity in the Reliquary as of late, so Arthus was just a little over-excited at the opportunity to get out and play in the desert. It was entirely possible that the other tracers had not heard Arthus due to Arii's peculiar and interesting way of speaking, bordering on comical from Arthus's frame of reference, especially the squaking bit at the end which had forced him to suppress an outburst of laughter with one free hand.
An agitated and perhaps guilt-ridden sigh escaped from Arthus's nostrils after Ricotta spoke up. He always found it odd that this desert lady was named after a type of cheese that was common to Korinthos (Kronos)... In any case, he had made it clear to her on multiple occasions that his name was Arthus, not Jadda. Furthermore, he had even gently accosted her over the importance of referring to individuals by their preferred name -anything else was simply disrespectful; impolite; and rude. Still, he couldn't help but find her teasing somewhat endearing. It made him blush...slightly. In truth, Ricotta's behaviour reminded him of his twin sister, Morrigan, who had often teased him so as she grew older.
"Lady Ricotta, if not for me, then for Sir Owlsworth's sake, give the young lad some breathing room..." Arthus glanced over to where Arii was, "Sir Arii, while I do appreciate your eagerness to get on with this matter, Lady Ricotta is right; we have the Halo to communicate at long distances. 'Tis better if we split our forces as to not garner too much unwanted attention. Have faith in your abilities Sir Arii! Sir Know-it-Owl appointed all of us as Tracers for a reason!" Arthus flashed a warm and confidant smile to all who were present. "And I mean no offense Sir Arii, but the manner in which you amble and speak...if it is within your abilities to 'tone it down' a little, I suggest you do so if you have an inclination to take less notice from the locals."
Once again, Arthus brought his attention back to the amber-eyed Atacaman lady, "I realize we have more pressing matters to attend to...but what were those edibles called again...the delightfully sweet dried fruit...dots, I think...NO! Dates! Lets-get-some-dates-first! Pleeease?" Whether or not Riccota or whoever else would tag along, Arthus was on his way to the town of Lianhe to procure himself some fresh dates from the buzzing marketplace.
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Squad141
The Purple Soul
Howden had to remind himself that magic was the wrong term to use when discussing an ASC, but it was incredibly difficult not too. As a creature that had been born from the evolution of an area similar to Lianhe, he wondered if the people who were there now had come from afar, or if the ASC that turned the town into the marvel it was nowadays created them as well? The mention of a leader or spokesperson, Khata, reminded him of home. Something small and easily harmed turned for the better. At least, better on the outside. Who could truly say?
Arriving in the small oasis in the middle of the sands, the bright lights of the sun above beat down heavily. Due to his unique nature, Howden barely felt the heat, but if he could feel it at all it meant that it was quite intense. Judging from the landscape, he'd rot easily if left out here alone for a week or two. With the sounds of voices far off in the distance, another haggle of voices sounded from nearby. The other Tracers, he guessed, had already begun their journey.
Slowly and efficiently, he made his way over to the rest of the group. It was always a bit easier to get through sand due to the flat-ness of his root feet, though that didn't help a ton in what was equivalent to an incredibly massive beach. Judging by the distance, he could activate the disguise chip once they met civilization.
On the mention of a plan once they reached town, Howden pulled out the map to the obelisk he had been entrusted with.
"Splitting up seems beneficial, yes. Teams of two or three, each looking into an aspect of the possible ASC. One for the obelisk, one for the girl, and one that could crowd-source our information, get a local's perspective on the recent evolution."
Howden smiled, nodding at Arthus.
"Arthus and I could head a group with the locals. We could find an inn or a marketplace and go from there, and maybe even find some of those dates you wanted. Wouldn't that just be dandy?"
Arriving in the small oasis in the middle of the sands, the bright lights of the sun above beat down heavily. Due to his unique nature, Howden barely felt the heat, but if he could feel it at all it meant that it was quite intense. Judging from the landscape, he'd rot easily if left out here alone for a week or two. With the sounds of voices far off in the distance, another haggle of voices sounded from nearby. The other Tracers, he guessed, had already begun their journey.
Slowly and efficiently, he made his way over to the rest of the group. It was always a bit easier to get through sand due to the flat-ness of his root feet, though that didn't help a ton in what was equivalent to an incredibly massive beach. Judging by the distance, he could activate the disguise chip once they met civilization.
On the mention of a plan once they reached town, Howden pulled out the map to the obelisk he had been entrusted with.
"Splitting up seems beneficial, yes. Teams of two or three, each looking into an aspect of the possible ASC. One for the obelisk, one for the girl, and one that could crowd-source our information, get a local's perspective on the recent evolution."
Howden smiled, nodding at Arthus.
"Arthus and I could head a group with the locals. We could find an inn or a marketplace and go from there, and maybe even find some of those dates you wanted. Wouldn't that just be dandy?"
Gears
Harbinger of War, Chaos, and Poptarts
Eddie wore black thief’s leathers. A bandana covered his face and cowl his hair. Finally a pair of goggles covered his eyes. He unslung a modified musket capable of firing faster than the rare firearm already could. He nodded and scooped out the surrounding area. His keen eye seeing distant smoke. He pulled a large bronze gear from his messenger bag and a mechanical falcon emerged from it and he released it into the wild.
BananaMuffin
Lucky Number Seven
There were several reasons why he didn't want to land in Atacama again. The greatest one being his family. Every time he's given a mission, even to the most unthinkable of places, there is always the image of one of his siblings waltzing around the corner while they're in the middle of catching an ASC lingering in the back of his head. And it's always shortly followed up by something huge ricocheting towards them. Now he'd usually pay these thoughts no mind whatsoever a few minutes in, but it doesn't help to know that Atacama is the one land where his visions could become reality. Still, he was given a job to do, and it would help from keeping that possibility from ever occurring he'd take it.
He turns his head to the sunstruck Oasis, hot air radiating off the houses. It may be a mistake to keep this armor on, however in a world where anything can happen, any place. No chances taken. Usually he'd prefer a lighter fitting armor for the occasion, if only because Atacama's sun will heat metal to seething levels of pain if left to be. He himself should probably be fine since he makes sure to keep a thick enough layer of clothing underneath, though he'll need to be sure to not let it reach the point of searing should anyone else make contact with him. Shade, Water and the like should be things to search for.
For now Alcanos focused his attention to present moments, trying his best to keep his rampant thoughts at bay. It seemed that Arii was already taking initiative. Good for him. Rico introduced the Thryn boy to their homeland of sand. The sudden telepathic communication broke his concentration for a bit, but his mind came back just in time to hear Jadda. Arthus responded in kind with a sigh. Then the chatter quietly fades into the background as the inside of the masked helmet grows ever notable and Alcanos grows ever distant from the conversation.
"... if it is within your abilities to 'tone it down' a little, I suggest you do so if you have an inclination to take less notice from the locals…"
That line nearly broke his silence. As a paladin, a strong imposing stature made a fine deterrent against anything straying from the straight and narrow. No evil thoughts without a cause would dare surface into action. But for what's essentially espionage, the strengths of a paladin flip to weaknesses. People will look, especially in Atacama. They will ask you where you are from and where you are going, invite you into their houses and show you off to their grandchildren. Even without his armor, his height would be enough to draw attention. The pumpkin could blend in and have no one question him for a full hour. Alcanos would weigh down whichever group he'd walk with no matter the size. Whatever was running this oasis operation would have an edge, be able to conceal itself even further now that it knows they're there. And if there was no protecting to do, then the consequences would have been all for naught.
click- Whirring noises break him out of his mental tangent, though they quickly shape into a familiar tune. It seemed that Edward had unleashed something into the air already. The Forge-Father would be proud of its intricates. The pumpkin was further discussing plans to split and pursue objectives. A fine strategy. Overall, the signs pointed to waiting for the groups to form and following which one would possibly need him more, or which one didn't need to be more inconspicuous.
He turns his head to the sunstruck Oasis, hot air radiating off the houses. It may be a mistake to keep this armor on, however in a world where anything can happen, any place. No chances taken. Usually he'd prefer a lighter fitting armor for the occasion, if only because Atacama's sun will heat metal to seething levels of pain if left to be. He himself should probably be fine since he makes sure to keep a thick enough layer of clothing underneath, though he'll need to be sure to not let it reach the point of searing should anyone else make contact with him. Shade, Water and the like should be things to search for.
For now Alcanos focused his attention to present moments, trying his best to keep his rampant thoughts at bay. It seemed that Arii was already taking initiative. Good for him. Rico introduced the Thryn boy to their homeland of sand. The sudden telepathic communication broke his concentration for a bit, but his mind came back just in time to hear Jadda. Arthus responded in kind with a sigh. Then the chatter quietly fades into the background as the inside of the masked helmet grows ever notable and Alcanos grows ever distant from the conversation.
"... if it is within your abilities to 'tone it down' a little, I suggest you do so if you have an inclination to take less notice from the locals…"
That line nearly broke his silence. As a paladin, a strong imposing stature made a fine deterrent against anything straying from the straight and narrow. No evil thoughts without a cause would dare surface into action. But for what's essentially espionage, the strengths of a paladin flip to weaknesses. People will look, especially in Atacama. They will ask you where you are from and where you are going, invite you into their houses and show you off to their grandchildren. Even without his armor, his height would be enough to draw attention. The pumpkin could blend in and have no one question him for a full hour. Alcanos would weigh down whichever group he'd walk with no matter the size. Whatever was running this oasis operation would have an edge, be able to conceal itself even further now that it knows they're there. And if there was no protecting to do, then the consequences would have been all for naught.
click- Whirring noises break him out of his mental tangent, though they quickly shape into a familiar tune. It seemed that Edward had unleashed something into the air already. The Forge-Father would be proud of its intricates. The pumpkin was further discussing plans to split and pursue objectives. A fine strategy. Overall, the signs pointed to waiting for the groups to form and following which one would possibly need him more, or which one didn't need to be more inconspicuous.
Scaleless
Weewoo weewoo
Lianhe— The Obelisk—2
Forward, the party trekked, through the heat of the Atacaman dessert. In their step, they left behind mounds of footsteps in the sands. At their approach, the hum of chatter ahead became more audible—the clatter of coins exchanging hands, the jubilant cries of children, and the roar of molten metal. The streets were bustling with activity, a flurry of colors and sounds. Merchants hawked their wares, their voices ringing through the air as they called out to passersby. Men and women danced to the music emanating from the stages, their feet moving in a graceful, mesmerizing rhythm.
The scent of spiced food wafted through the air, a delectable aroma that made everyone’s mouth water in anticipation. Aromatic smoke rose from the blackened pots lining the street, giving off a sweet smell of spices and herbs.
After some discussion, the party split into two groups. One for tracking information related to the girl and the town; another sauntered forwards toward the golden obelisk.
—Group 1—
Heading towards the obelisk, Rico, Alcanos and Arii cut directly through the heart of the town. The group made their way through the throng, taking in the vibrant sights and sounds of the festival. They passed by a group of fire eaters, their flames casting a warm orange glow across the desert sand. Further on, they encountered a troupe of dancers, their movements mesmerizing as they swirled and swayed in time to the rhythm of the drums.
The surrounding revelers moved in a constant ebb and flow, weaving together a tapestry of laughter and music. The ground beneath their feet was littered with a rainbow of colors, each hue a reflection of the joyous atmosphere. The travelers were surrounded by a vast array of stalls and kiosks, each peddling their own unique wares. From instruments to trinkets, jewelry to food, there was something for everyone in the crowd.
In the center of the square, a massive golden obelisk stood tall and proud. The sun glinted off of its shining surface, and the reflection seemed to dance in the air. It was a symbol of the town's unity and the festival's joyous celebration, a beacon of hope and beauty in this barren land. The townsfolk laughed and sang around the obelisk, feeling the warmth of friendship and the freedom of the day.
As Alcanos approached the structure, he felt an ache beginning to set in his skull. It appeared without warning and soared in intensity only a second afterward. At the next blink, his vision was obscured by a haze of white. A vision, of beating wings and descending feathers burned into his eyes.
The spectral vision of a grand and noble owl, known as the Loremaster, filled the silent chamber. Its body was a brilliant golden hue, its wings spread out in a regal display. Its eyes were a piercing and wise shade of black, and its talons seemed to be made of solid gold. It sat atop a raised dais, a throne of white marble, and was surrounded by a chorus of ringing bells, their sound echoing throughout the room.
The walls of the chamber were a pristine white, adorned with delicate carvings of delicate lotus flowers and symbols of great wisdom. A shimmering ray of light shone down from the ceiling, illuminating the majestic creature, and making it appear as if it was wearing a crown of stars. It glared at him listlessly, until the gentle hum of its voice reached his mind. “A warning. A possibility.”
A scene played out on the owls, wide, unblinking eyes. A giant figure, made of flesh and sinew, loomed over the small figure of Rico, its immense body blotting out the surrounding stars. Rico's screams echoed through the night air, muffled by the heavy palm that now covered her face. Her frame was no match for the might of the monster, and with a final shudder of its hand, she was gone.
In the shadow of the monster, a larger figure lurked. Its hulking form seemed to cover the entire horizon, casting a sinister glow over the landscape. The creature had no face, no features, only an unending void that seemed to stare down with malicious intent. As Rico's body lay limp, the monster and its larger companion slowly began to fade away, leaving behind only the memory of their terror. The vision faded, leaving only the gaze of the golden owl behind it. “ASC—564. Arii. And another,” it’s voice resounded along the gentle ringing of bells. Alcanos now understood the smaller, fleshy monster, was the one walking by his side: Arii.
“Take heed and observe this one. If peril doth befall, dispatch them forthwith.”
The vision faded, leaving his party and the golden obelisk within view—during the time of the vision, only three more blinks had passed.
At the front of the golden structure was a woman in a white robe. Her sapphire blue eyes sparkled in the light, and her lips were painted a deep ruby red. She stopped in front of the impressive golden obelisk, her gaze sweeping across the figures before her. "Welcome, travelers," she said in a voice as smooth and sweet as honey. Her words echoed off the obelisk and into the air. "Do you require any assistance on your journey?"
—Group 2—
At Arthus' behest, the first group composed of him, Howden, and Edward arrived at a nearby stand. Edward’s mechanical falcon made locating it a simple task.
The woman behind the stand was draped in a gown of the deepest purple, her face illuminated by the warm light of the lamp. Her fingers moved swiftly as she prepared the dates for sale, her eyes twinkling with the promise of a sweet treat. The dates were a deep, rich brown with a subtle sheen of honey. They were laid out in neat rows, inviting the customers to sample their sweetness. The woman smiled as she saw customers approach, her eyes crinkling with kindness. “Ah! New arrivals I sense? And what a cute pair you all are. Taking your little brother out for a snack?” She asked a question and pointed it at Edward.
The woman's fingers moved swiftly, preparing a sample of the dates for her newest customers. She placed the little treat on a plate, a sweet smile gracing her lips. "Try this first, a gift for guests of our city," she said, her voice soft yet inviting. She offered the plate to the customers, her eyes twinkling with delight.
Squad141
The Purple Soul
Howden, without any doubt, was delighted. The simple idea of a festival as grand as this, one where the festivities and customs of hundreds of people are mingling in a single place, it nearly overwhelmed him. This was, after all, the reason he had come to be a Tracer in the first place, and the reason why he was the one to search for ASCs, and not his brother. While the other main group left to investigate the very obvious landmark at the center of town, Howden and his associates decided to get to know the locals, Howden's preferred plan of action.
While their main search was for the girl that the Curator had mentioned, Arthus' hunger for dates was a nice excuse to stop at any of the booths on the warm, busy streets. Howden still had the provided map in case they somehow needed a way to get back to the suspicious obelisk quickly. He had also chosen a disguise with the help of the ruby tool embedded into him, choosing to change his form into that of a somewhat-portly adult that matched the skin tone of his two compatriots. The hardest part about connecting with locals was always the question of why the Tracers stuck together, and Howden found the family solution to be the easiest.
Edward had used his falcon to fly ahead, and the trio soon arrived at a booth with exactly what Arthus had been searching for. The scent of subtle natural sweetness wafted from the perfect dried delights, though it was the mention of Arthus being their younger brother that almost made Howden grin. Then, of course, she offered them the gift of sweet dates. While it seemed, the others were taking their time, Howden stepped up.
"Thank you so much, we're delighted to be here!"
With that, Howden reached down and picked up one of the dates. He felt the soft honey sheen on his root fingers through the facade, and he reached his first dilemma: how to give the illusion he would it. Gourdians typically eat non-orthodox foods, and when they do, they become roasted and quickly disappear within the flames inside each pumpkinfolk. Having done this plenty of time, of course, Howden opened his mouth, placed the date inside, then pretended to chew and swallow. He kept the date in his mouth, since he had no uvula or tongue and could easily talk with something so small in his head.
"Delicious, and I would expect nothing less from such an abundant festival. Say, have you been working out here long? I can't imagine how uncomfortable it must be with the heat of the crowd and such a precious treat."
While their main search was for the girl that the Curator had mentioned, Arthus' hunger for dates was a nice excuse to stop at any of the booths on the warm, busy streets. Howden still had the provided map in case they somehow needed a way to get back to the suspicious obelisk quickly. He had also chosen a disguise with the help of the ruby tool embedded into him, choosing to change his form into that of a somewhat-portly adult that matched the skin tone of his two compatriots. The hardest part about connecting with locals was always the question of why the Tracers stuck together, and Howden found the family solution to be the easiest.
Edward had used his falcon to fly ahead, and the trio soon arrived at a booth with exactly what Arthus had been searching for. The scent of subtle natural sweetness wafted from the perfect dried delights, though it was the mention of Arthus being their younger brother that almost made Howden grin. Then, of course, she offered them the gift of sweet dates. While it seemed, the others were taking their time, Howden stepped up.
"Thank you so much, we're delighted to be here!"
With that, Howden reached down and picked up one of the dates. He felt the soft honey sheen on his root fingers through the facade, and he reached his first dilemma: how to give the illusion he would it. Gourdians typically eat non-orthodox foods, and when they do, they become roasted and quickly disappear within the flames inside each pumpkinfolk. Having done this plenty of time, of course, Howden opened his mouth, placed the date inside, then pretended to chew and swallow. He kept the date in his mouth, since he had no uvula or tongue and could easily talk with something so small in his head.
"Delicious, and I would expect nothing less from such an abundant festival. Say, have you been working out here long? I can't imagine how uncomfortable it must be with the heat of the crowd and such a precious treat."
RaiAthar
...Whatever
The all too familiar scent of exotic incenses intermingled with spices and herbs that were common only to Atacama hung heavily in the air. Arthus inhaled deeply through his nostrils. Such esquisite aroma's were they... Truly, in his opinion, Atacaman cuisine was simply the best; nothing else could compare. Oh, he still enjoyed his baked meat and potatotes, but something in the food here -probably the paprika- brought a warmth into his heart unlike any other.
Interestingly there were no paupers begging on street corners for want of food or marks for which to procure spirits -at least none that Arthus was aware of. The structures were in good repair. Everyone appeared to be well-dressed, well-fed and occupied with whatever they did that needed doing, all the while wearing bright smiles on their faces. The good cheer and happiness here was tremendously infectious, how could it not be? Most certainly, anyone who was not smiling would stand out amongst the crowd. Even Arthus was practically grinning from ear-to-ear as he walked between Edward and Howden. Playing the part of the 'little brother' or perhaps simply being himself -the latter being the likely case- Arthus playfully took hold of a hand on either side of him, skip-stepping to the beat of beating goblet drums, keeping in step with his fellow tracers as they followed Edward's mechanical falcon on route to their destination.
Whatever happend here in Lianhe was nothing short of a mircale. In Arthus' humble estimation, these people had found their little slice of heaven on earth. With his sister Morrigan gone, Arthus' heaven would be waiting for him beyone the veil, sadly. Unless there was a way... Nearly shedding a tear, Arthus hoped with all his heart that Sir Loremaster was completely off his perch with this one. With closed eyes, Arthus offered a silent prayer to the people of Lianhe and to what they had created here:
Whoever believes in the Maker, and adheres to His Code, as revealed to you O Lady of the Lake, and lead their life accordingly, will be duly awarded. Such a people will lead a life of heavenly bliss, free of fear, grief and anxiety. Therefore, hold fast to the Code and be steadfast on the programme ordained by the Maker. Do not listen to anyone going on the wrong path. By pursuing the erroneous path of selfishness, the creative faculties of sentient beings become either degraded or stay subdued. The condition of whoever listens to them will also become like theirs. Maker accept.
When Arthus opened his eyes, he and his fellow tracers were standing before an Atacaman lady who was drapped in dark purple finery. The flickering flame of lamp-light danced over her visage, illuminating her warm and welcoming eyes. "It is as you say, fair lady. We are indeed here for a snack on my behalf."
By now, Arthus had withdrawn his gentle grip from the hands of his companions. It just so happened that Howden picked the exact same date that Arthus had been reaching for. Wearing an incredulous smile on his face, Arthus looked up at human-Howden, "Oi! Brother! What is the meaning of this? ...Nevermind it, I will pick another..." Still in high spirits, his gaze settled over the date lady, "I shall take two dozen of your finest dates for the road, m'lady." Arthus reached for his sack to fetch the appropriate amount of marks that would be required to complete this transaction. As he milled about his sack for the coins, Howden began engaging the merchant lady in seemingly idle conversation.
"Pardon the intrustion, Brother Howden, I too have a question for the fair lady," Arthus' eyes shifted to Howden then back to the date lady, "I hear that a blooming lass by the name of Khata leads the festivals here in Lianhe. Mine eyes do wish to gaze upon her beautiful soul. Perchance, you know of who I speak and where I may have the honor to speak with her a few words of gratitude?"
Interestingly there were no paupers begging on street corners for want of food or marks for which to procure spirits -at least none that Arthus was aware of. The structures were in good repair. Everyone appeared to be well-dressed, well-fed and occupied with whatever they did that needed doing, all the while wearing bright smiles on their faces. The good cheer and happiness here was tremendously infectious, how could it not be? Most certainly, anyone who was not smiling would stand out amongst the crowd. Even Arthus was practically grinning from ear-to-ear as he walked between Edward and Howden. Playing the part of the 'little brother' or perhaps simply being himself -the latter being the likely case- Arthus playfully took hold of a hand on either side of him, skip-stepping to the beat of beating goblet drums, keeping in step with his fellow tracers as they followed Edward's mechanical falcon on route to their destination.
Whatever happend here in Lianhe was nothing short of a mircale. In Arthus' humble estimation, these people had found their little slice of heaven on earth. With his sister Morrigan gone, Arthus' heaven would be waiting for him beyone the veil, sadly. Unless there was a way... Nearly shedding a tear, Arthus hoped with all his heart that Sir Loremaster was completely off his perch with this one. With closed eyes, Arthus offered a silent prayer to the people of Lianhe and to what they had created here:
Whoever believes in the Maker, and adheres to His Code, as revealed to you O Lady of the Lake, and lead their life accordingly, will be duly awarded. Such a people will lead a life of heavenly bliss, free of fear, grief and anxiety. Therefore, hold fast to the Code and be steadfast on the programme ordained by the Maker. Do not listen to anyone going on the wrong path. By pursuing the erroneous path of selfishness, the creative faculties of sentient beings become either degraded or stay subdued. The condition of whoever listens to them will also become like theirs. Maker accept.
When Arthus opened his eyes, he and his fellow tracers were standing before an Atacaman lady who was drapped in dark purple finery. The flickering flame of lamp-light danced over her visage, illuminating her warm and welcoming eyes. "It is as you say, fair lady. We are indeed here for a snack on my behalf."
By now, Arthus had withdrawn his gentle grip from the hands of his companions. It just so happened that Howden picked the exact same date that Arthus had been reaching for. Wearing an incredulous smile on his face, Arthus looked up at human-Howden, "Oi! Brother! What is the meaning of this? ...Nevermind it, I will pick another..." Still in high spirits, his gaze settled over the date lady, "I shall take two dozen of your finest dates for the road, m'lady." Arthus reached for his sack to fetch the appropriate amount of marks that would be required to complete this transaction. As he milled about his sack for the coins, Howden began engaging the merchant lady in seemingly idle conversation.
"Pardon the intrustion, Brother Howden, I too have a question for the fair lady," Arthus' eyes shifted to Howden then back to the date lady, "I hear that a blooming lass by the name of Khata leads the festivals here in Lianhe. Mine eyes do wish to gaze upon her beautiful soul. Perchance, you know of who I speak and where I may have the honor to speak with her a few words of gratitude?"
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Spoiled Bread
The Lord of the Uneaten
Ricotta Bonne
Location: Lianhe's Obelisk
Rico flowed through the crowd like water. Sometimes she would steer towards one of the stall, chatting and haggling with the seller for a few moments before coming back to the group with new item on her hand, by the time they reached the obelisk Rico already had a black glasses on her forehead, a few colorful bracelets made of marbles on her wrist and a large blue cotton candy on her hand. She also bought a parasol and offered it to Arii.
Rico stared in awe at the golden obelisk in front of her as she slowly savor her brightly colored treat. Her mind couldn't stop thinking on looking for a way to... collect it. Of course for something this big the only way she could take it unnoticed was by using those dimensional pocket ASC in the reliquary. Still, even if she couldn't take it the sight of a big chunk of gold was already enough to make her happy. A woman in white robe greeted them and asked them if they would like some assistance.
"Ah, hello afii~. We heard there's a festival here so we come to check it out. I don't regret it." Rico gave a warm smile at the woman while spinning her tales effortlessly, she just hope Alcanos and Ari would play along.
"Would you like to tell us the history of this city and how can it be this prosperous?" Rico asked. Although the question might seems basic, she had a reason for asking that. The tracers already know the result of the ASC's involvement with the city, but they didn't know how. A conversation with some natives might uncover some info they hadn't know yet, or at least gave them insight on how the natives perceived the ASC's influence in case the ASC was well-hidden or poses cognitohazardous traits.
Scaleless
ScatheAriiasqDrayceon
BananaMuffin
Location: Lianhe's Obelisk
Rico flowed through the crowd like water. Sometimes she would steer towards one of the stall, chatting and haggling with the seller for a few moments before coming back to the group with new item on her hand, by the time they reached the obelisk Rico already had a black glasses on her forehead, a few colorful bracelets made of marbles on her wrist and a large blue cotton candy on her hand. She also bought a parasol and offered it to Arii.
Rico stared in awe at the golden obelisk in front of her as she slowly savor her brightly colored treat. Her mind couldn't stop thinking on looking for a way to... collect it. Of course for something this big the only way she could take it unnoticed was by using those dimensional pocket ASC in the reliquary. Still, even if she couldn't take it the sight of a big chunk of gold was already enough to make her happy. A woman in white robe greeted them and asked them if they would like some assistance.
"Ah, hello afii~. We heard there's a festival here so we come to check it out. I don't regret it." Rico gave a warm smile at the woman while spinning her tales effortlessly, she just hope Alcanos and Ari would play along.
"Would you like to tell us the history of this city and how can it be this prosperous?" Rico asked. Although the question might seems basic, she had a reason for asking that. The tracers already know the result of the ASC's involvement with the city, but they didn't know how. A conversation with some natives might uncover some info they hadn't know yet, or at least gave them insight on how the natives perceived the ASC's influence in case the ASC was well-hidden or poses cognitohazardous traits.
Scaleless
ScatheAriiasqDrayceon
BananaMuffin
Gears
Harbinger of War, Chaos, and Poptarts
After Edward finished his candied date he walked into an alley after gesturing that he would be back and searched the alley. He searched the Alley’s for a symbol he had seen often before his current profession. He kept his dagger consealed under the dark duster he wore. His wife brimmed hat and bandana provided protection from the heat. He checked the seeking glass lense over his goggles to see what his falcon who was surveying the surrounding woods had seen. After a minute he returned to the group.
BananaMuffin
Lucky Number Seven
Nostalgia emanated from the joyful laughter and the booming music, reaching his ears as if there wasn't a helmet muffling the chords. It was a shame his vision was a bit limited, otherwise he'd be able to take in more of his surroundings, especially the fire eaters. Their show had always resonated with him since he was a child, even if they put him on edge. His smell more than made up for his sight, as the air was filled to the brim with aromantic scents, spices, and a hint of pure sugar? It seemed Rico had gotten a hold of some cotton candy. Alcanos had no interest in the tooth-rotting treat, though it did conjure thoughts of the Basbousa his mother would make during feasts - Just sweet enough, and with a single almond for crunch it was always just right… An unseen smile slowly formed on his face.
As they stopped in front of the obelisk's gates, a dull sensation had developed within his skull, quicking soaring into a migraine. Had he really been under the sun long enough for headaches to start up already? No, it felt much too intense. He had closed his eyes for a second in response, however he was flashbanged with blinding white. As the light died down, the cause of his anguish came to view. The Loremaster, as it is called. Owl of infinite wisdom and secrets untold. Knowing of all the Forge-Father has and will soon create. What grand lore would it provide him with this time?
…A vision. It looked like Rico would be in trouble soon. Attacked by something he was confident he would be able to fend off. What? Arii?
By the time of three blinks, Alcanos regained his consciousness just in time to hear Rico's cover. Fibs he'd need to go along with for now if they hope to enter lawfully.
Initially he was perplexed at the thought that a boy of his stature could somehow overcome anyone like Rico, lithe and agile in combat, yet he realized it shouldn't be surprising. Logic had been thrown out the window the second he walked through the gates of the reliquary; the most mundane of people could easily turn out to be the most threatening in a world of ASCs. Still, understanding that logic was dead only intensified the feelings of dread he felt. His ache lingered and the loremaster's vision was branded in his head, a warning not to be taken lightly. The loss of a companion was enough to reinforce the weight it yielded. And with the possibility of two ASCs occurring, he needed to bring them aside and let them know what he was shown. Make sure that there were steps they could take now to prevent the dreary possibility. Although he wouldn't be able to tell them everything now, he should at least let the one about to turn into a monster know there was something wrong. If there were any words Arii exchanged to the lady, he'd stay quiet and let them continue. However, if there was a moment of opportunity, Alcanos would mutter these words to him, low enough to where anyone not standing directly beside them shouldn't hear.
"Ariiasqthylinh, we must speak in private soon. Something dire has come up."
As they stopped in front of the obelisk's gates, a dull sensation had developed within his skull, quicking soaring into a migraine. Had he really been under the sun long enough for headaches to start up already? No, it felt much too intense. He had closed his eyes for a second in response, however he was flashbanged with blinding white. As the light died down, the cause of his anguish came to view. The Loremaster, as it is called. Owl of infinite wisdom and secrets untold. Knowing of all the Forge-Father has and will soon create. What grand lore would it provide him with this time?
…A vision. It looked like Rico would be in trouble soon. Attacked by something he was confident he would be able to fend off. What? Arii?
By the time of three blinks, Alcanos regained his consciousness just in time to hear Rico's cover. Fibs he'd need to go along with for now if they hope to enter lawfully.
Initially he was perplexed at the thought that a boy of his stature could somehow overcome anyone like Rico, lithe and agile in combat, yet he realized it shouldn't be surprising. Logic had been thrown out the window the second he walked through the gates of the reliquary; the most mundane of people could easily turn out to be the most threatening in a world of ASCs. Still, understanding that logic was dead only intensified the feelings of dread he felt. His ache lingered and the loremaster's vision was branded in his head, a warning not to be taken lightly. The loss of a companion was enough to reinforce the weight it yielded. And with the possibility of two ASCs occurring, he needed to bring them aside and let them know what he was shown. Make sure that there were steps they could take now to prevent the dreary possibility. Although he wouldn't be able to tell them everything now, he should at least let the one about to turn into a monster know there was something wrong. If there were any words Arii exchanged to the lady, he'd stay quiet and let them continue. However, if there was a moment of opportunity, Alcanos would mutter these words to him, low enough to where anyone not standing directly beside them shouldn't hear.
"Ariiasqthylinh, we must speak in private soon. Something dire has come up."
ScatheAriiasqDrayceon
Just cause I read worse don't mean it ain't cursed
The crowd had Arii's spine curling. Their steps were light as they walked, but they didn't so much weave through the crowd as they dodged any person that happened to brush too close. It wasn't uncommon that they slipped on the sand, though it did little more than cause a momentary pause or perhaps a startled squawk much in the same fare as their previous frustrated ones. Their hands never stilled during the walk, always engaged in some form of repetitive motion that did little to still the palpable anxiety that hung around them like a miasma. Still, they remained silent with their head down, seemingly intent on avoiding what their fellows reveled in, even sneezing every so often when they passed a particularly pungent stand. Occasionally, they'd cock their head oddly, but they never voiced whatever had caught their attention, much less looked up from burning a permanent glare into the sand.
By the time the motely little group reached the obelisk, they looked right miserable, and a hint of sunburn had started creeping up their neck as if to personally spite the cowl they'd turned their jacket into.
They weren't surprised to find Jet's presence had minimized itself into barely a weight in the back of their head—he never was a fan of the heat, much less the sun, but they still found themself poking at him, seeking the expertise that he tried so hard to hide from them. They got little more than a grumble in return for their efforts, though by the time they checked back into the world, the question they posed was already fading out of importance.
Frankly, Arii found the obelisk a flamboyant (and unnecessary) display of wealth—perhaps a hazard for anyone with sensitive eyes at best. Still, their dislike for the object did not detract from the plain fact that they were supposed to be investigating it. They were already reaching out to brush a hand against it when a voice—though objectively unthreatening—had a startled jolt running up their spine in such mass that their feet momentarily left the ground.
They didn't have time to properly process what was said before Ricotta was speaking.
Well, at least someone was. Arii's mouth was certainly glued shut, whether from caution or habit, they couldn't tell.
"Ariiasqthylinh, we must speak in private soon. Something dire has come up."
Arii turned their head just slightly. Though they made a habit of keeping people in their line of sight, their peripheral vision wasn't the best, and Alcanos(? Jet confirmed their memory of the name as it came to mind) was someone that made them feel as though they were walking on the ice back in Thrin. A moment passed before their gaze slid back to Ricotta and the... other one. Surely if these people were tracers, they had to have decent experience with this sort of thing.
They shrugged back at Alcanos, and—though their voice stuck in their throat—looked to Ricotta. Their demeanor shifted with a single movement, turning from stiff and uncomfortable to fluid and dramatic. "'Cotta," they called, their voice rising to a nasally whine. "It's hot." Honestly, they thought to themself, someone as small and kickable as them should not have the capacity to sound as annoying as they did.
They did their best to look the part of excited as their gaze caught on a shaded alley overlapped with colored tarps. A rain catcher. "I'm gonna go over there." They barely waited for a reply—positive or negative—before they turned, rapped once on Alcanos' armor (quickly; that was metal and they weren't an idiot) and all-but skipped over to shelter.
As soon as they laid foot in the darkness, they dropped possibly the most annoying façade they'd ever developed and pressed their back against the cool adobe.
By the time the motely little group reached the obelisk, they looked right miserable, and a hint of sunburn had started creeping up their neck as if to personally spite the cowl they'd turned their jacket into.
They weren't surprised to find Jet's presence had minimized itself into barely a weight in the back of their head—he never was a fan of the heat, much less the sun, but they still found themself poking at him, seeking the expertise that he tried so hard to hide from them. They got little more than a grumble in return for their efforts, though by the time they checked back into the world, the question they posed was already fading out of importance.
Frankly, Arii found the obelisk a flamboyant (and unnecessary) display of wealth—perhaps a hazard for anyone with sensitive eyes at best. Still, their dislike for the object did not detract from the plain fact that they were supposed to be investigating it. They were already reaching out to brush a hand against it when a voice—though objectively unthreatening—had a startled jolt running up their spine in such mass that their feet momentarily left the ground.
They didn't have time to properly process what was said before Ricotta was speaking.
Well, at least someone was. Arii's mouth was certainly glued shut, whether from caution or habit, they couldn't tell.
"Ariiasqthylinh, we must speak in private soon. Something dire has come up."
Arii turned their head just slightly. Though they made a habit of keeping people in their line of sight, their peripheral vision wasn't the best, and Alcanos(? Jet confirmed their memory of the name as it came to mind) was someone that made them feel as though they were walking on the ice back in Thrin. A moment passed before their gaze slid back to Ricotta and the... other one. Surely if these people were tracers, they had to have decent experience with this sort of thing.
They shrugged back at Alcanos, and—though their voice stuck in their throat—looked to Ricotta. Their demeanor shifted with a single movement, turning from stiff and uncomfortable to fluid and dramatic. "'Cotta," they called, their voice rising to a nasally whine. "It's hot." Honestly, they thought to themself, someone as small and kickable as them should not have the capacity to sound as annoying as they did.
They did their best to look the part of excited as their gaze caught on a shaded alley overlapped with colored tarps. A rain catcher. "I'm gonna go over there." They barely waited for a reply—positive or negative—before they turned, rapped once on Alcanos' armor (quickly; that was metal and they weren't an idiot) and all-but skipped over to shelter.
As soon as they laid foot in the darkness, they dropped possibly the most annoying façade they'd ever developed and pressed their back against the cool adobe.
Scaleless
Weewoo weewoo
Lianhe— The Obelisk—3
—Group 1—
SMACK! Her two hands clapped together at the mention of Lianhe’s history. Her coral-glazed lips swelled at the edges as her mouth twisted into an eerily wide smile. Laugh lines deepened as her chest shook from the strength of her laughter. A step took the tour guide closer to Rico and an arm was sent by the tour guide and made to sit around Rico’s shoulder.—Group 1—
“That one … is a fun tale to tell.” Her gaze soared to the skies overhead and a solemn gaze bled in. For a moment, time and all of its minutiae were forgotten by the would-be tour guide—her eyes seemed to grasp at distant memories in the brief silence that followed. A sadness set in the haze of her distant stare, but it was quick to pass.
“Lianhe was founded by the ancestors of our young Sheikh. His forebears came here after receiving a vision from the great Forge-Father. They dreamed of a new world where men could live free of the demands of others; where man need not labor against his fellows for their own gain or pleasure.” The tour guide removed the arm around Rico’s shoulders and pointed it to the obelisk. If her eyes followed, she would read the word etched onto gold:
Lying in a dream of gold.
A vision of joy untold.
The waters of the river pass.
The riches of a hollowed land.
Soaring above the desert sand.
A symbol of a candle with a long wick is carved underneath the text. “This place! It was born in those visions. In dreams of a new world beyond the desert sands. This was the dream of the first generation of Lianhe. We have only ever known peace, surplus, and amusement due to their efforts.” Her words were spoken with such reverence that they almost seemed like a prayer.
A tear streaked down her cheek, her voice became deeper and more reverent. She wiped away the tear and said no more. Instead, she turned to Rico and gave her a warm smile. Rico had seen the candle symbol in her prior shopping through the town. It was carved into decorative coins, atop of many shops, and decorated the entryway of their gold mine. It was particularly present at the latter, the symbol was carved myriad times into the stones of the gaping mine without pattern or focus.
“I’m sorry. I am just beyond grateful that Lianhe exists and that I was lucky enough to be born here.” She traced over Rico’s form for a moment, unsubtle in her study of her features—with a particular focus on her hands. “Are you in need of a husband, by chance? My brother has an empty bedroom in his home. We are very welcoming to new residents.”
…
Within the confines of the surrounding crowd lurked a figure laden with leather despite the heat. They were an agent of the unseen, another diminutive silhouette hidden in the dew of the crowd. They seemed to cut away then, diving between shoulders, careful enough to evade discovery by their targets. It watched for a moment as they stilled, feigning a conversation with another party before setting off again on detecting movement.
It drew close to an alley, just out of sight of those within—yet close enough still that any loosed words would find their ears. Its fingers traced over the curve of its belt, as though searching for something. It reached into its waistcoat and withdrew a small vial. Though small, the vial was crafted of thick glass. Within its contents resided a blue liquid that eddied within the container despite being undisturbed.
—Group 2—
“Oh ho ho. That is simply wonderful! I hope the travel came easy.” The sun shone down in a dappled golden glow, as the date seller watched with a contented smile as the people around her enjoyed her treats. Indeed, it was a pleasant sight to behold, and she felt lucky to be able to bring such happiness to her customers.
The date seller delicately placed a dozen dates on a plate, each one a different hue of sweet, sun-ripened brown. She smiled, handing the plate to the customer, and extended her hand, palm up, awaiting the exchange of Marks. “Ah yes, my dear boy, your purchase… Please do enjoy them!” She twirled her hands around the plate in a grand flourish, as though this were some sort of theatrical act.
She turned to face the oldest of the pair and answered the first question in a grainy voice, “It is always a pleasure the give each customer a piece of Lianhe. And yes! It is so. I have been preparing these little fancies for over a decade. It never gets boring watching a face light up each time they taste Lianhe’s dates for the first time.” Her lips curled into a grin.
At the second question, her eyes widened in disbelief. “New visitors and you’ve already heard of our little star. The older sister to our Sheik!” A chuckle rolled through her throat. Busy hands moved to skillfully prepare more of the fruits as she spoke, deftly plating each with a smile. “She is coordinating the Dance of Waking Steel, I would guess. It is being conducted at our main shrine to be Forge-Father. It is a large, silver building just east of here—hard to miss.” Her hands dropped to a pile of dates, carefully sorting through them before selecting the desired ones to replace those that were on display. “I’m happy to answer one more question, but I do have other customers to help—so I am afraid that I cannot chat much longer thereafter.”
—Further East at the shrine—
The building was made of a mix of different metals, giving it a unique appearance of shifting colors as the sunlight changed. The doors were of a bright bronze, formed into intricate designs, and the walls were of dark iron. The roof was of shimmering silver, and the windows were made of gold-plated steel.
Outside the structure, people of all kinds wore decorative dresses in honor of the Forge-Father. They donned cloaks of deep purple, adorned with jewels of all kinds. On their heads, they wore plumed hats of brightly colored cloth. Some wore skirts of shimmering blue and others donned doublets of red and green.
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BananaMuffin
Lucky Number Seven
Perhaps he didn't speak loud enough.
It's a shame really, a problem that could take people's lives in a horrific fashion surfaces and the most effort he's managed to bring light to it wasn't enough to warrant anyone's attention. Alcanos needed to do better. It seemed that Rico was still preoccupied at the moment, so he’d head over to where Arii was. He steps and stumbles his way through the crowd once more, slowing down to keep away from the people who don't move out of the way as quickly as everyone else. Trying to think of how to best approach Arii since simply speaking to him didn’t fare well. The kid seemed as meek as a sheep, barely speaking at all. Would a more subtle approach bring about a better response, or did he need to become more intimidating? He wouldn't have much time to think since the alleyway wasn't very far, so he'd simply start by repeating Ariiasqthylinh's name again when he was in range, a bit louder this time trying to keep the conviction out of his voice.
It's a shame really, a problem that could take people's lives in a horrific fashion surfaces and the most effort he's managed to bring light to it wasn't enough to warrant anyone's attention. Alcanos needed to do better. It seemed that Rico was still preoccupied at the moment, so he’d head over to where Arii was. He steps and stumbles his way through the crowd once more, slowing down to keep away from the people who don't move out of the way as quickly as everyone else. Trying to think of how to best approach Arii since simply speaking to him didn’t fare well. The kid seemed as meek as a sheep, barely speaking at all. Would a more subtle approach bring about a better response, or did he need to become more intimidating? He wouldn't have much time to think since the alleyway wasn't very far, so he'd simply start by repeating Ariiasqthylinh's name again when he was in range, a bit louder this time trying to keep the conviction out of his voice.
ScatheAriiasqDrayceon
Just cause I read worse don't mean it ain't cursed
As Alcanos hedged into the cooler area provided by the raincatcher, Arii stuffed their hands back into their pockets. He said their name, again. Why?
"You wanted to speak to me in private?" They tried to keep their tone even, but they weren't making an effort to act, and their suspicion bled through in creeping venom, as if they were a coyote debating if offered food was bait or not. "This is as private as we're going to get."
The adobe against their back was nice. The Presence of people behind them was entirely blocked out by the solid feeling of rock against their spine. Still, Alcanos' existence in their vicinity alone made their neck itch.
Jet perked up in the back of their head, his own weight pressing into the back of their neck and sending subtle purple down the length of their spine, where they assumed it would be hidden, what with that part of them currently being smashed against a wall. Either way, Jet posed a few questions that Arii answered with only vague thought, catching him up with all that was important.
His proposed solution, of course, was to simply go home.
Sometimes Arii wished they could smack him.
"You wanted to speak to me in private?" They tried to keep their tone even, but they weren't making an effort to act, and their suspicion bled through in creeping venom, as if they were a coyote debating if offered food was bait or not. "This is as private as we're going to get."
The adobe against their back was nice. The Presence of people behind them was entirely blocked out by the solid feeling of rock against their spine. Still, Alcanos' existence in their vicinity alone made their neck itch.
Jet perked up in the back of their head, his own weight pressing into the back of their neck and sending subtle purple down the length of their spine, where they assumed it would be hidden, what with that part of them currently being smashed against a wall. Either way, Jet posed a few questions that Arii answered with only vague thought, catching him up with all that was important.
His proposed solution, of course, was to simply go home.
Sometimes Arii wished they could smack him.
RaiAthar
...Whatever
Placed down onto the merchant lady's counter were double the marks that she had requested before Arthus reached for the plate with his purchase. Save for two honeyed dates -one that found a home in his mouth and the other one he offered to Edward- Arthus haphazardly dumped the rest of the plate's confectionery contents into his travel sack then placed the plate back onto the counter. "Mmmm...mmm..mmm...I love Atacama more than I love dates...and boy do I love dates...mmm..mmmm. What do you think, Edward? Is it not the best?" He had spoken his words while slowly chewing to savor the sweetest taste in his mouth.
"Any-who, thank-you kindly for your candor, kind lady. No more questions do I have for you, so to your business I will leave you for I now have my dates and I know from where I may observe and mayhap take part in the Dance..." he paused to perform a simple yet well practiced seven step jig, finishing off with a twirling jump during which he clicked his heels together before landing back to his feet, "...of Walking steel?" A wide eyed, playful grin came over Arthus' face, "However, I'm sure the Lady Khata's rendition of the Walking Steel would put even my finest jig to shame." After a slight and quick bow of his head, Arthus made his leave -his destination was the silver-shrine towards the east.
"To the silver-shrine, my brothers! I have a dance to attend! Last one there is a rotten owl-egg!"
En-route to the silver-shrine, Arthus decided now would be a good a time as any to communicate his findings to the other group using his Halo:
Brothers and sisters! This is Arthus speaking. We are headed to a large silver-shrine in the east -this is the main shrine. From the information Edward, Howden and I have gathered, lady Khata is at this particular shrine -we are on our way there now. Also, I bought us all some treats for later! And do keep an eye on Lady Ricotta...she has this terrible habit of not returning the things she borrows.
"Any-who, thank-you kindly for your candor, kind lady. No more questions do I have for you, so to your business I will leave you for I now have my dates and I know from where I may observe and mayhap take part in the Dance..." he paused to perform a simple yet well practiced seven step jig, finishing off with a twirling jump during which he clicked his heels together before landing back to his feet, "...of Walking steel?" A wide eyed, playful grin came over Arthus' face, "However, I'm sure the Lady Khata's rendition of the Walking Steel would put even my finest jig to shame." After a slight and quick bow of his head, Arthus made his leave -his destination was the silver-shrine towards the east.
"To the silver-shrine, my brothers! I have a dance to attend! Last one there is a rotten owl-egg!"
En-route to the silver-shrine, Arthus decided now would be a good a time as any to communicate his findings to the other group using his Halo:
Brothers and sisters! This is Arthus speaking. We are headed to a large silver-shrine in the east -this is the main shrine. From the information Edward, Howden and I have gathered, lady Khata is at this particular shrine -we are on our way there now. Also, I bought us all some treats for later! And do keep an eye on Lady Ricotta...she has this terrible habit of not returning the things she borrows.
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Gears
Harbinger of War, Chaos, and Poptarts
Edward nodded distracted by his thoughts. He was solving a complex puzzle device in his hands that he usually had in his home along with several other devices such as that, after a few maneuvers he let out a chuckle and put away his device before partaking in the confection. He followed his cohorts while scanning the crowd for any familiar faces friendly or hostile but none caught his gaze.
Spoiled Bread
The Lord of the Uneaten
Ricotta Bonne
Location: Lianhe's obelisk
Rico watched in amusement as the lady in front of her enthusiastly told her about the city's history. Nothing seemed to directly gave her information about the ASC but the way she dramatically told it was a very interesting insight for her, she looks like she's having a spiritual ecstacy. Also, the moment that lady pointed at that symbol Rico immediately recalled such things being carved practically everywhere. Rico wasn't unfamiliar with the use of pictures as a way to give certain message. People in Quicksand likes to do cryptic codes all the time and you can literally tell whether a tavern was associated with Quicksand or not by looking at the right upper most corner of their liquor shelf for faintly carved spiral symbol. The candle symbol definitely piqued her interest and she wanted to immediately shares it with the other but the lady's next question wasn't something that she expected.
"T-that is an interesting offer, afii." It caught her off guard, but Rico immediately regained her composure. She's Ricotta the desert phantom, she dodges arrows and responsibilities everyday so running away from this one should be no problem.
"But I already have a suitor. He doesn't want to get teased for it so we keep it a secret for now." She whispered the last part playfully, like a housewife sharing juicy personal secret with her neighbor. "I'm sure your brother is a wonderful person and I hope he finds his true one soon. Right guys??"
"..." Rico looked around to found that the other two tracers had gone from her side and was talking under a shade.
"Really guys?? No respect for history?" Sighing, Rico shifted her attention back to the lady and clasped her hand apologetically.
"I'm sorry, my friends seems to need a break. Thank you, afii. I hope I see you later~" Waving the lady goodbye, Rico walked towards the alleyway where Arii and Alcanos was.
BananaMuffin
ScatheAriiasqDrayceon
Scaleless
Location: Lianhe's obelisk
Rico watched in amusement as the lady in front of her enthusiastly told her about the city's history. Nothing seemed to directly gave her information about the ASC but the way she dramatically told it was a very interesting insight for her, she looks like she's having a spiritual ecstacy. Also, the moment that lady pointed at that symbol Rico immediately recalled such things being carved practically everywhere. Rico wasn't unfamiliar with the use of pictures as a way to give certain message. People in Quicksand likes to do cryptic codes all the time and you can literally tell whether a tavern was associated with Quicksand or not by looking at the right upper most corner of their liquor shelf for faintly carved spiral symbol. The candle symbol definitely piqued her interest and she wanted to immediately shares it with the other but the lady's next question wasn't something that she expected.
"T-that is an interesting offer, afii." It caught her off guard, but Rico immediately regained her composure. She's Ricotta the desert phantom, she dodges arrows and responsibilities everyday so running away from this one should be no problem.
"But I already have a suitor. He doesn't want to get teased for it so we keep it a secret for now." She whispered the last part playfully, like a housewife sharing juicy personal secret with her neighbor. "I'm sure your brother is a wonderful person and I hope he finds his true one soon. Right guys??"
"..." Rico looked around to found that the other two tracers had gone from her side and was talking under a shade.
"Really guys?? No respect for history?" Sighing, Rico shifted her attention back to the lady and clasped her hand apologetically.
"I'm sorry, my friends seems to need a break. Thank you, afii. I hope I see you later~" Waving the lady goodbye, Rico walked towards the alleyway where Arii and Alcanos was.
BananaMuffin
ScatheAriiasqDrayceon
Scaleless
Gears
Harbinger of War, Chaos, and Poptarts
Eddie stared at the odd shrine, while he waited for a reply he took the moment too repair damage his knives had sustained in battle. After sharpening them he carved a rune into the blade . The gemstones on the end lit up with the arcane.
