Vault Hunters (Finished~)

[Zer0]

- Drow Camp -
"Shattered Golden Dome Courtyard, December 30, 600, Afternoon"​

Lysanthir gave orders to one of the drows at the gate and she ran back up to camp. "I do not know truth be told." he turned to Charon. "I have never been in The Dust before. The only danger I see right now is the human kind . . ." he narrowed his eyes at the descending Templars. "I have never asked you before, but where do your loyalties lie, Master Charon?"

Moments later, a well-groomed, freckled, lady drow with blue eyes, carrying a glaive with a flintlock pistol dangling on her hip and wearing a makeshift armor of hastily hammered metal and colorful Barad Eithel leather came jogging down the dome with two other lady drows. "Vedui' mool en' noore Evindal." they bowed at Lysanthir.

"Vedui' tira en' noore Evindal." said Lysanthir in return, and gestured at Isa. The three lady drows bowed to him. "Isa, this is your guard: Althea," he gestured at the freckled one who stood a step forward behind the other two. "Qualanthri," he gestured at a long-braided drow with a cold calculating air about her, " and Lia." the last drow had a bruised right face with short silver hair cut amature-ishly and jaggedly, but she had fierce green eyes. "Qualanthri and Lia do not speak your language very well, but Althea is fluent. They are ready and will obey your every command." Lysanthir exchanged words with them, and then Althea stepped forward.

"A star shines on the hour of our meeting, Isa," said Althea, bowing, "I have heard of your exploits, and me and my sisters are honored to be of service to you."

And with that, the ladies followed Isa to the direction of the Ebony Oasis.

Lysanthir watched them go, saying, "A na eithel lotesse i' giliath guide lle!" before looking back to Charon and gesturing back up the dome.

Katsuya Sisyphus Happy

 

[Sisyphus Happy]

Health: Healthy
| Toughness: Background Ability (10) + Armor (1) [11] | Spell Power: Background Ability (14) + Knowledge (4) + Equipment (1) [19] |Manna: Background Ability (4) + Knowledge (6) + Spellslinger (4) [13/14]
Condition: 3 | Roleplay Points: 1

Χάρων ​

Charon looked toward Isa's retreating form with a little worry and curiosity before turning to follow Lysanthir, "I fear that question, sirrah. I despise my mentor and my siblings. He is truculent and they are ructious. Transitioning from a secluded and hidden compound to drifting along the peaceful riverways enveloped in lagom, my abilities made allies moot. Now, thrust up against burgeoning evil, I have committed grave sins and shortly thereafter died. Luckily for you, the only two loyalties my little life contains are just before you -- occasionally arguing with each other. To you, whom I owe for my wrongdoing, and to them and theirs, whom I owe for living," he said evenly, smoothly, as though he had both expected and thought of this answer and question. Adding wistfully, "you know, I do hate leading."

He inhaled sharply and continued without passion or much emotion, "I assure you I mean no harm, at the very least. To anyone. I will repay this camp the wrongs I have done first and look for an opportunity to prevent harm to it -- if that harm happens to wear shiny mail and... ugly hair, all the better. Then, I will join those folks who saved me. Fortunately for you, I will be offering all of my aid to repay your camp first. Even if by some risible peripeteia -- though I doubt that is the case, it makes no difference -- there is an occupying force on the other side of this portal, I shall accept the consequences of opening the door to it," he sighed and reached up with his little finger to dig some sand out of his tear duct, "forgive my monologue. While my current situation leaves me with few choices, I have many thoughts. I suppose I am a dramatic one," he let out a subdued chuckle from his noise with his mouth closed and a demure gaze settled on the stairs before them. His hands came together on his front, one enclosing the other, while a pensive finger traced circles on the back of the inner hand.

 

[Zer0]

- Drow Camp -
"Shattered Golden Dome Courtyard, December 30, 600, Afternoon"​

For the very first time, Lysanthir laughed.

The schooled politeness melted and there in its place was bright mirth where he wasn't trying to portray a face and was just himself. "Ugly hair?" he chortled, voice rich and silvery. "Indeed they do look rather greasy in this heat, unlike our fair locks." he agreed, unconsciously combing his own silvery one, that, like all elven folk was blessed with a look of effortless grace. "Though right now we do not look entirely our best," he looked at his people who still looked emaciated, gaunt, and thin, "still, we carry ourselves better in our rags than those entitled Templars in their shiny mail." he raised his nose into the air.

His laughter died down and he cleared his voice, still smiling. "Indeed, you are dramatic. And tragic, Master Charon, with the way you seem to always put yourself down. I do not mean to make light of your misfortunes, but you do have good in you. Your talent for magic for example. Loyalty. And you do not seem to thirst for power like most mages of your caliber tend to do. It surprised me that you were a boatman, truly. A very humble occupation." he continued to walk beside him as they made their way back to camp.

"And to tell you the truth." he said in a quieter voice. "I do not like leading either, yet it is wonderful to see my house happy and free." He turned to him. "I do not request for you to help us fight in Windshear, Master Charon. I do not think you like killing at all. And I am sure that those of my kin left behind on the other side will be fighting us. Your help with the portal will be enough."

Sisyphus Happy

 

[Sisyphus Happy]

Health: Healthy
| Toughness: Background Ability (10) + Armor (1) [11] | Spell Power: Background Ability (14) + Knowledge (4) + Equipment (1) [19] |Manna: Background Ability (4) + Knowledge (6) + Spellslinger (4) [13/14]
Condition: 3 | Roleplay Points: 1

Χάρων ​

Though he tried to maintain his stony expression, Lysanthir's unexpected laugh caught him off guard. A reluctant smile spread across his own face followed by some sudden warmth, and a laugh tickled his diaphragm, but he did not let that one out. "Our fair locks," he mumbled in return. A hand came up and pinched one of the stiff fringes laying across his forehead. His own hair is a mess, unspeakably so, he looks like a Rugrat, "I suppose your fair locks; I have the pelt of a fresh kill upon my brow," he muttered. He spent a moment trying to wrestle the smile off of his face before clearing his throat to give his full reply, "well of course I put myself down. Given the way I have conducted myself, my talent for magic makes me a talented fool, and my loyalty a fool even greater. And, in fairness, I used my post as a boatman to gather information, to solve this," he looked down at his hands reflexively but found them to be human, with the exception of a few faint scales lurking at the corners of the wrist, so instead he 'hm'ed out of effort and his long, thin, iguana-like tail came sweeping around opposite to Lysanthir, and he reached out to grab and hold it gently, "and so I have employed my... skills to --" he craned his neck to look around, but found no Templar.

"I have employed my skills to do some favors for some illicit and quite felonious people," he admitted, though he did not seem to have qualms about this particular engagement in his past. An almost nostalgic expression appeared on his face when he spoke of it, "and of Windshear... Lysanthir, I have stumbled upon this conflict a mere two days ago. How large is it? What is going on here?" he asked, a more vehement tone taking his voice. It sounded like those squid creatures were also present in Windshear. He did not know all that much about the place, but it did not matter. An expression of concern surfaced on his face as well. He reached up and placed his fingers on his lips, glaring at the ground. Having been fixated on resolving his task at the portal, he had little time to think about the implications of the conflict. Of an invading force of squid people and titans, et cetera.

 

[Katsuya]

- Isa Bianchi -​

As Lysanthir called someone to gather help, Isa waited there patiently. The more help he receives, the better chance to find Moss. He took deep breathes, calming his racing thoughts as Charon and Lysanthir talked. He wasn’t exactly listening to their conversation either, but he can see them relax within each other’s presence somewhat. That’s good, the redhead thought lightly.

Then the polite Drow introduced him to the guards. When they bowed, Isa bowed back without hesitation. “Thank ya for helping me find Moss.” he replied back before standing straight, grinning hesitantly. The sprout on his head swayed gently. “And please call me Isa. I’m not good with titles.”

With that, the redhead left with the three sisters. Heading towards Ebony Oasis. He had asked them if they had a spell to part the waters or a spell of flight. If not, he was willing to offer his shadow claws to help them move. “I can’t carry everyone sadly, but I do not mind crossing over the waters twice over when it means I can help ya.”

Worry ate and fed from his fear of losing Moss, however he was considerate towards the sisters. Asking if they will be okay should anything happened. The three sisters can see that through his actions as he kept looking all around to spot a familiar creamy white head or a large bear dog around the area. Any sort of sign, Isa wanted to follow it until he finds Moss.

Zer0 Sisyphus Happy

 

[Zer0]

- The Dust -
"December 30, 600, Afternoon"​

The drows had a pair of their fellows piloting spider machines come out from underground to carry them across. The water had no effect on the metal, and Qualanthri, the cold calculating looking one pointed to Isa in broken common where he could hold on to the back of the spider. The drows were surprised at how considerate he was, and Althea smiled at him. "We have been through worse, literally, Isa, we will be fine. I doubt no one will compete with us gathering moss in this desert."

Althea it seemed wasn't told by Lysanthir what they were going to be doing, and when she asked Isa where was moss growing in the desert that wasn't around the dome area she was surprised to find out that Moss was a person. "This is a search and rescue mission!" she looked to the other lady drows and translated for them. "And here I wondered why gathering moss was very important to illicit worry. Will you describe to us this Moss friend of yours?"

The party met groups of folks coming from the oasis with jars of water along the way who did remember the white haired horned man riding a polar bear-dog. They had last seen him waiting in line at the oasis for water a few hours ago. And as they got closer, the more recent folks who came from the place said that they saw him leave and head east towards the corpse of Malus.

There was a little wisp of smoke coming from that direction, a campfire smoke. And, following it, Isa and the ladies found themselves about a mile away south of the corpse, near a muddy pit next to a wall of rock where raw ragnite glowed from cracked veins at the side. There was a small camp here at the rim of the pit under the shade of a cleft of rock. Isa recognized the smell of Cascatta del Oceano spices, but instead of Moss in the camp, there were about six badly beaten unconscious people sleeping under the shade, and standing at the rim of the pit were two armed fair skinned folks wearing --- not desert clothes, but rather, something like the clothes the elf artist from Menagerie coast had worn --- who looking down at the pit, waiting. And one of them was eating from what looked like Moss' frying pan.

Their voices carried across the cliff- side. " . . . hold his breath?"; "I don't know, but this is taking too long. I can stay here, but you should call the others and go . . . and try to get the tiefling instead, or the gnome. The gnome's usually by herself."

Katsuya

- Drow Camp -
"Shattered Golden Dome Courtyard, December 30, 600, Afternoon"​

That is true." said Lysanthir looking at Charon's hair. "Respectfully speaking, you should consider cleaning up a little, Master Charon, simply to be . . . considerate towards others." He waved at the direction of the portal when the camp came into view. "You are in the presence of the elders of House Evindal after all. Granted we all do not smell our best in the current circumstance, and the heat makes it worse," he looked up frowning at the shining desert sun, "but it would make work much more pleasant if you smelled a little less . . . like a fire salamander."

He looked at his tail, pondering. "Have you heard of the medicine panacea? Master L told us about it when we showed her the anthroparions. It it can cure what . . . what Manuel did to them, I daresay it can cure your affliction as well." When they reached the portal, Lysanthir went under the shade of his tent, picked up a jar and poured a mere drop of water into a cup. He looked into the jar and then placed it down with a sigh. "The conflict is . . . was large." he wiped the sweat off his brow and fanned himself with the collar of his shirt. "Theosebia, the . . . abomination that dominated the mind of the ulitharid , elder brain in your tongue, of the Khlul′-hloo to dominate my people in turn, were using us to rebuild this dome to take control of the goliaths to kill the Ancient of The Void, Loki, and harvest his soul stone . . . and use it to reshape the world. She, Manuel and his ilk . . . From snatches of conversation . . . I . . . I believe that she or them, she was . . . made of many people . . . I believe they were from the Age of Arcana . . . citizens of this ruin when it was still a flying city in the sky . . . warped into that form . . . I do not know how, but . . . she knew powerful magic I have never even heard of . . . talked about a vault and someone called Zosimos . . . It is all unbelievable, yet, I saw that larger portal open into The Void . . . " he looked at the far end of the courtyard where the ground had cracked and fell away leaning to the side where two massive broken pillars jutted out like horns. "In any case I am glad they were thwarted by that Leonid fellow."

Sisyphus Happy

 

[Sisyphus Happy]

Health: Healthy
| Toughness: Background Ability (10) + Armor (1) [11] | Spell Power: Background Ability (14) + Knowledge (4) + Equipment (1) [19] |Manna: Background Ability (4) + Knowledge (6) + Spellslinger (4) [13/14]
Condition: 3 | Roleplay Points: 1

Χάρων ​

Charon glared toward the ground with Lysanthir for a moment to attempt to absorb the information. Implications began spinning in his head, a dervish of thoughts like cotton candy coalescing into a number of things to remember. He could act on none of them. It seems, much to his relief, his participation in the conflict with Theosebia is at a close. The way everyone around him was behaving, he could assume the conflict had something resembling a positive outcome. A sense of vertigo washed over him when it sank in that they were messing with gods. Titan, Loki? The Age of Arcana, psionic hiveminds, the presence of an apparently unknown name worried him. After the vertigo left him, there was very little else than fatigue. While his priorities suddenly were shaken up like a box of keepsakes, he pressed his hand to his face and found it sweaty. Pulling it away, he grunted and squinted at it as though it betrayed him, the coolness of moisture now plastered to one side of his face. Sifting through his next words, he shook his head and released his tail. Leonid really did something like that? He wouldn't have guessed. His goods are certainly something... else. Perhaps he is as well.

"I... was only in the city for less than a day before this conflict began, and so suddenly. I only recognized that magic was being leveraged against the citizens and felt the need to even the odds. Thus I never discovered the bathouse. I could only clean up with a moist rag before coming to this dome before our little expedition. I would wager that the bathhouse is not in working order. I might suggest we take a short excursion on my vessel to the nearest waterway, but we are so near to completing the portal..." he sighed wistfully, "but this is... I require a soak. Fine," he acquiesced plaintively, "let me just... I do not even require a potable stream to bathe, at this point. Do you want to attend? I can take eight or nine," he offered. There was some space in the way he carried himself, suddenly distracted, muttering things like "Loki?" and "Khloo-hoo."

 

[Zer0]

- Drow Camp -
"Shattered Golden Dome Courtyard, December 30, 600, Afternoon"​

One of Lysanthir's eyebrows shot up really high. "What . . . do you mean attend?" he said slowly. "Be with you as you take a bath?"

Sisyphus Happy

 

[Sisyphus Happy]

"Yes..." he replied evenly, visibly confused by Lysanthir's reaction. Peering around at those near to them and gesturing rather subtly so as to not appear rude, "would you like to organize a series of trips on my vessel to bathe somewhere nearby? I think the clean waters flowing into the city should be saved for everyone drink foremost," he continued. After a moment, during which he couldn't help but notice that Lysanthir seemed confused and terribly surprised, so he elaborated, "why, we shan't be hugging. If it would better suit you, I could distance myself from you and keep myself out of sight. I know this amalgam form of mine can be offputting, or we need not bathe simultaneously, " he shrugged, lazily reaching up with his index finger and itching then lobe of his right ear.

"I can cause my vessel to fly. If I bring a few at a time, that is. In that fashion, I can take people on the order of... six and a quarter in an hour?" he reasoned aloud quizzically, "though, I know I shall be using far moren than ten minutes to bathe myself... three and one half in an hour, then?" It was there he finally paused and looked for Lysanthir's reaction. Over the known world, there ought to be a few creatures known to bathe communally. It seems Charon has had his social cleaning experience with those creatures. Mountain trolls lounging in hot springs and lizardfolk warming themselves in saunas were the depiction of his childhood and young adult washrooms respectively.

 

[Zer0]

- Drow Camp -
"Shattered Golden Dome Courtyard, December 30, 600, Afternoon"​

Lysanthir laughed again.

Many of the drows actually whipped around to see as though this was something rare.

"My dear, Master Charon, no. We . . . do not bathe together." he gestured at his people. "It is . . . not decent. A difference in culture, I suppose, but no. And . . . no one is drinking from the waters here." he chuckled, glancing over at the statues that were broken over at the mourning tent as though it was very obvious why. "I do not know where the nearest safe waterway is for bathing, though I have heard of a few oasis near here, but I can have a jar of water brought up to your tent. Just a jug, we are rationing water, unfortunately."

Sisyphus Happy

 

[Katsuya]

- Isa Bianchi -​

When they showed Isa the mechanical spiders with their fellows driving them, the redhead sighed in relief and climbed on. Listening to Qualanthri‘s directions to hold on to the machine. As they rode off, Isa ask if they were okay or if they needed some sort of ice pack for their wounds; he asked that one towards Lia who had a bruise on her face. After listening to Althea’s words, the redhead frowned. Concern shone through his indigo blue eyes as his hands tightened their grip to hold on the mechanical spider. “One more reason to treat ya nicely.“ He replied before raising a brow.

”Gathering moss? In a desert?” Didn’t . . . Lysanthir said that Althea was fluent in common language? What’s with that sentence? When she asked where to look for said moss, Isa corrected her mistake. “We’re not gather a plant. Moss is my fiancé. A merman.” He almost wanted to laugh at the light mistake, holding it back. Instead he smiled in his amusement. These poor girls thought it was something simple as gathering plants when it’s actually a rescue mission. They must have been so confused as to why was gathering a plant was so important to Isa.

When Althea asked what Moss looked like, Isa‘s smile turned into a mischievous grin. “He looks like this.” Indigo flames licked and swallowed the redhead whole, replacing him with a man that looked similar to Lysanthir, but with a horn on his head, teal eyes that resembled the clear ocean waters, and was tan. “He sounds like this too.” Isa mimic Moss’ voice. “He loves to cook, so I wouldn’t be surprised if he made a small camp with a pan on top of the fire.”

While ashes were blown away from the heated winds, Isa pondered for a moment. Would him changing like that make the girls connect him to Manuel? Just because he used green fire to use dimension door? Just because he could mimic others? Would the girls believe something in coincidences and take it to heart? Honestly, the redhead didn’t know and right now, as much as he didn’t want to trigger anything, he just wants to find Moss. If mimicking him means that it will help their search, then he will do it without worry or qualms.

Okay, maybe some qualms since the girls might be triggered to their trauma of Manuel being a monster. Isa would like to avoid that.

After talking with the most recent folks from the watering ring, Isa had to ponder. Why was Moss going to Malus? Did something happen? He thought he wanted to get water and food so . . . Worry added more to the brew within the redhead, anxious to just find him while praying that he wasn’t hurt. So the group went to the East where the body of Malus was laid. The memories that came with the sight hit Isa hard, thankful that he got to annoy Theosebia enough to distract her for a day longer by killing Malus.

There was a trail of smoke coming from the south of Malus. They followed it. Spices from his hometown hit Isa’s nose, knowing that it must be Moss—- he doubted that someone else would have Cascata del’ Oceano spices out here. Just when he thought that they’ll find Moss sooner than expected; instead found two strangers. They wore similar clothing as the elf artist from Menagerie and one fo them was eating from what looked like Mos’s’ frying pan.

Isa took a deep breathe. A really long and deeeeeeep breathe as he casually walked up to them. The sisters might be surprised at how calm he seemed, even when he reached behind his cloak to grab his Raven staff. They can hear him talk to the Templars, his tone twisted in amusement and sickeningly malicious. “Oh-hooo~ I must thank ya for taking care of him for me~” His grin sharpened in his anger, yellow eyes gleaming in his toxic rage.

”Let’s me give ya a reward~” He growled.

Zer0

 

[Sisyphus Happy]

Health: Healthy
| Toughness: Background Ability (10) + Armor (1) [11] | Spell Power: Background Ability (14) + Knowledge (4) + Equipment (1) [19] |Manna: Background Ability (4) + Knowledge (6) + Spellslinger (4) [13/14]
Condition: 3 | Roleplay Points: 1

Χάρων ​

Charon gave Lysanthir a squinting frown and folded his arms, complaining, "indecent? It was proper enough for the chieftan of a mountain troll village to accompany me in my younger years. Well, no matter. I shall not bathe in a jug," he declined amiably, his forehead smoothing while he looked out toward the entrance, "please do pinch your nose for a little longer, I will take this time to make some discoveries about the oases in this area," he suggested, "I should return in twenty to thirty minutes, I will only be buying a map or someone's knowledge on the surrounding geography. In the meantime, if you find anyone desperate enough for a bath to, at the very least, take turns doing so, I will be flying there once I have discovered where 'there' is," he turned to begin walking but suddenly stopped and turned, "ah, and if you would like to give me empty containers to fill with water, I can do so. At an oasis, not the place I decide to clean myself," he assured him, "do you know where I might find a map?"

 

[Zer0]

• Story
• Battle

• 
  
  
  - Drow Camp -
  "Shattered Golden Dome Courtyard, December 30, 600, Afternoon"​
  
  Lysanthir just looked on politely at the mention of the troll chieftain. "I will mention your offer if I meet someone desperate." he inclined his head. "And thank you, but we have servants bringing up water for us. I can however have someone give you empty jugs if you wish to store water for yourself." He looked over to the main ruins of Barad Eithel. "There is a market there, I am certain they have maps for sale. In fact I think I will send someone to purchase a few copies for me and my people as well."
  
  Sisyphus Happy
  
  
  
  
  
  - Surprise Round -
  "Ebony Oasis, December 30, 600, Late afternoon"
  

  Spoiler: Music
  
  
  Lia shook her head after Althea translated Isa's offer about an ice pack and said something in their native tongue. "She said that she would like to let the wound heal on its own, it is a reminder of something important to her." said Althea to Isa. Lia said something again. "She thanks you, though, Isa, for your concern. She said that it is not painful, except when touched."
  
  The ladies were surprised that Moss was a merman, because he definitely didn't look like one. And were astonished that he was his fiancé. Lia said something again, but Qualanthri gave her a look that startled her then made her go quiet, clearing her throat.
  
  "His white hair will make him easy to spot." said Althea, observing Isa's illusion of Moss. "We will find your fiancé, Isa, and bring him safely to you." After that, Lia started to look at Isa with curious interest, almost like the way one becomes interested in a foreigner they've never heard of before.
  
  Late that afternoon when they came to the camp south of Malus and left the spider machine and its pilot some ways away for safety, Althea asked Isa for his commands, and after a quick talk where the ladies were indeed surprised to just see him walk up to the ones hidden in the pit, Althea threw her glaive at the look-out, Lia rushed out between the rocks with two sabers out, and Qualanthri scattered rocks as she stumbled a little, causing the look-out to look down at her in surprise.
  
  The hidden Templar Isa spoke to jumped, startled, and a look of recognition dawned on his face when he saw him.
  
  Katsuya
  
  
• 
  
  Pit Rim
  
  1. Old Templar
     Hp 1/1 | Toughness 14
     +4 to rolls
     
     
  2. Stout Bald Templar
     Hp 1/1 | Toughness 14
     +4 to rolls
     
     
  3. Qualanthri
     Hp 1/1 | Toughness 12
     +2 to rolls
     
     
  4. Lia --> (attacking Stout Bald Templar)
     Hp 1/1 | Toughness 12
     +2 to rolls
     
     
  5. Althea --> (attacking look-out)
     Hp 2/2 | Toughness 14
     +3 to rolls
  Top Cliff
  
  1. Wavy Red-haired Templar (look-out)
     Hp 1/1 | Toughness 14
     +4 to rolls
  Pit Bottom
  
  1. Disfigured face Templar
     Hp 1/1 | Toughness 14
     +4 to rolls
  2. Long bearded Templar
     Hp 1/1 | Toughness 14
     +4 to rolls
  
  
  

 

[Katsuya]

- Isa Bianchi -​

Isa smiled at the girls, not bothered by Lia’s curious stares as relief filled in his body. Once again, happy that they were helping him. He bowed at them once more, making it obvious with how grateful he is towards them as even his tone of voice sweetened. All of them can hear it even when they didn’t understand his words; Moss is important to him.

“Thank you so much.”

At the edge of the cliffs, the redhead noticed that he surprised the Templars enough to aim his staff and opened his mouth with this sharp grin. The shadows darkened his pale face, emphasizing his sickening yet alluring yellow eyes as if he was a demon or possessed by one. Not caring for his own safety as he stood close to the hidden templars, as if he was confident to fight them. The desert winds billowed his cloak and hair wildly. The eyes of his Raven staff glowed brightly.

”Doaagh raghhs” He purred in malevolent glee.

A small but beautiful indigo flame appeared at the top of the staff, forming into a growing ball. Getting bigger and bigger until it was the same size as a small house. The area became hotter, waves blurring their visions a bit but they can still see. Like a shooting star, it sped towards the Templars below of the pit. Striking them down with chaotic destruction that only fire can dance to in their glory. The area exploded, they couldn’t hear their comrades‘ screams as Isa slowly turned his head to the templar next to him, grinning in his protective anger. Keeping their eye contact steady. The blue flames highlighting his pale face and red hair. Hiding the sprout on his head with red strands that‘s wildly swaying from the heat and steam.

“I’ll bring your friends to the healing tent, but should I ever find ya or them near him again-“ Isa hissed, raising a thumb by his neck and quickly gestured a line across; making a slicing noise with his tongue.


“Ya got me?” This is his warning. His only warning.

Zer0

 

[Zer0]

- Victory -
"Ebony Oasis, December 30, 600, Late afternoon"​

When the dust and smoke settled, there was a clang as the old Templar eating from Moss' pan dropped it, his mouth open in a silent yell, staring at Isa, before Qualanthri tackled him; his stout bald comrade had leaped towards the shade where their sleeping friends were, but immediately froze when Isa spoke, like a mouse pinned down by a predator's stare, before Lia suddenly came up from behind and swept his legs from under him, and then pinned him down.

"We got you! We got you!" said the old one. "Your friend is alive, so . . . so there's no need to take more of my men's life." his voice was shaking.

Katsuya

 

[Katsuya]

- Isa Bianchi -​

His manic grin softened, weary but less intense in his anger. “Good.” He purred. Then he looked at the sisters with a soft smile. “I’ll be right back with Moss and their charred friends. Mind tying them up or putting them together? We’re gonna place them in the healing tent— or give them back to the Templar’s tent. I do not care.” He trusted their decision.

With a burst of fire and leaving behind ashes, Isa teleported down to the pit that smelled of cooked hair and meat; it was nasty. The waters are steaming and he spotted the fainted bodies; he checked to see if they were alive and sure enough, he can feel their puffs of air hitting his bare wrist. Reassured he hadn’t killed anybody yet, the redhead walked over to the pond of deep water. Staring at it and sighed.

How to call for Moss to come up?

He gulped. He might have to stick his head in the water to scream Moss’ name, don’t he? Ohhh how he wanted to avoid touching the water but he wants to see Moss more. With that in mind, Isa sat on the blackened ground and leaned over the water with a slightly fearful frown. Then he took a deep breathe, holding it, and plunged his head in the water-

“Moss!” He called out. Bubbles shooting out from his mouth. “Mi orca di mare~ you’re safe~”

Isa quickly took his head out and coughed out water. Hoping that would work. If not, he didn’t mind waiting for Moss.

Zer0

 

[Zer0]

- Ebony Oasis -
"December 30, 600, Late afternoon"​

"May we interrogate them?" asked Althea, as the other two ladies began to tie the two Templars up.

Meanwhile, Moss did not come out. And there was just the voices of the women, the crumbling of rocks in the canyon, the whistle of a hot breeze and the cry of a bird high above the sun. And then . . .

'Isa, I fell asleep! Sorry, lunch is late. I dozed off waiting for my berry gum and prickly pear to boil. I'm going to be a few hours late, luprisca.' said Moss' voice in his head. Isa can tell he was annoyed, but trying to be cheerful. Trying to not make him worry.

Katsuya

 

[Katsuya]

- Isa Bianchi -​

“If ya want to.” Isa replied calmly.

Isa waited and waited until Moss gave him a message.”Moss!” The redhead jumped before giving a response, smiling. Then he snorted. Sounding amused and in a bit of disbelief. ”Ya fell asleep underwater while boiling the gum berries? Love, where’s Okami? Are ya okay? Templars are tied up at the moment. It’s safe to come up now.”

He doubted that Moss fell asleep underwater. He can’t breathe water like before. Nor would he just leave his cooking alone like that.

Zer0

 

[Zer0]

- Ebony Oasis -
"December 30, 600, Late afternoon"​

'Wait, you know? You're here?' came his flabbergasted voice. 'Okami is fine, he's a mud skipper fish right now. Isa, there's a lot of enemies, a dozen or more? We're going there.'

Katsuya

 

[Katsuya]

- Isa Bianchi -​

“Um...” Isa didn’t know how to explain the situation without sounding crazy. ‘Oh them? Yeah, I blew them up and scared the other half.’ That’s not crazy, right?

It’s nuts.

”It’s four or five, Love.” Isa replied, wanting to avoid what happened since he is thinking on how to not sound crazy. “We’re currently tying them. Please come up?” He pleaded quietly at the end, bashful.

Zer0

 

[Zer0]

- Ebony Oasis -
"December 30, 600, Late afternoon"​

' . . . Oh. Yes, we're up! Don't know where I am, I swam away and came out of a cave . . . I see the smoke! We're around ten minutes away north, Isa!'

And sure enough, less than ten minutes later, Isa spotted a muddy polarbear dog and a muddy-sandy Moss riding on top bounding through the narrow cliff passages towards them. Moss looked relieved to see him.

Katsuya

 

[Katsuya]

- Isa Bianchi -​

Closing his eyes, Isa sighed quietly. Tense shoulders melted and relaxed. “Good~ I’m glad. We’ll wait here for ya.” His cheeks were still pink when he collected the scorched Templars before poofing in front fo the sisters, carefully laying them down with their hands tied; not that he needed to add the extra security since they are burnt, but it’s only to be assured that they can’t do anything if they wake up.

He had enough experience with tricky folks.

The redhead waited as the sisters interrogated them about something, sitting on the ground with a slight glare at the awake Templars. Staying close by to be seen but not that close to be threatening towards them, leaning back to relax on a jutted rock. That’s what Isa was doing for the few minutes of waiting . . . Until he spotted Moss riding on Okami.

He perked up at the sight of a muddy Moss and Okami, looking like he wants to run up to him all giddy like but restrained himself. Instead he stood up from his spot and walked around the camp to meet up with him. First petting Okami enthusiastically, cooing as Moss hopped down. Then he hugged-tackled the merman to the ground, asking him quiet questions of worry and care. Like a puppy hopping around him.

“Are ya hurt? Where?”

”They didn’t harm Okami, did they?”

”What happened?”

”I couldn’t save the food, one of them was eating it.” That last one, Isa glared at the guy who was eating Moss’ food, hugging the merman tightly. “I got worried when ya didn’t reply back hours ago, so I came looking for ya. Lysanthir asked for help and the sisters volunteered.”

Zer0

 

[Zer0]

- Ebony Oasis -
"December 30, 600, Late afternoon"​

The drow's way of interrogation was . . . different. Isa saw Althea wake up the beaten sleeping Templars, observing their faces, looking for something until she picked one who looked younger than the rest and who was looking down quietly with panicked eyes at her bound hands. "Sar'll ausa siilen fae." Althea pointed at her.

Qualanthri dragged the girl in front of Althea, forced her to sit and then held her in place. Althea muttered something, her eyes turning jet black, as streaks of her silver hair turned ebony, and then placed her hand on the side of the scared Templar's face. There was silence for the whole time Isa waited for Moss, with the girl just looking ahead at something they couldn't see and mouthing wordlessly like a fish. Whatever she saw it was terrifying.

When Moss arrived, he quickly tried to pat himself clean, but -- "Oof!" he smiled, hugging Isa tight in the sand as he was hug-tackled. "I'm sorry for not telling you, Isa, I know I could take them, and I didn't want to disturb your work." as he reassuringly caressed him, Isa saw bruises peeking, curved around from his back shoulder, and Moss was sticking his leg out stiffly. He frowned. "Okami is okay, they weren't able to hurt him, but they shot me in the leg, and I fell from there into the pit." he pointed at the rim of the hole. He looked at the lady drows and nodded at them, smiling and appreciative. "Hooo . . . Templars should honestly stop getting on our bad side. "It's like they never learn." he said, his gaze lingering on the badly burned ones.

"They were trying to get me on their side, Isa. They wanted the books." When Isa mentioned one of them ate his food, Moss' jaw tightened. "What?" he followed his gaze and glared at the old Templar as well. "That was for my fiancé!" he said heatedly at the old man.

The Templar wore the same expression as the drows when they learned the two men were romantically together, and he looked like he had something to say about that, but looked at Isa and just kept quiet.

"How dare he touch that . . . Now my pan is defiled . . ." muttered Moss, looking around for it.

Katsuya

 

[Katsuya]

- Isa Bianchi -​

Isa got curious as he watched Althea interrogate the Templars, shuffling closer to Lia. Watching Althea’s eyes turning jet black and the young templar girl silently screaming. ”What is she doing?” He asked the youngest looking sister, tilting his head a bit.

“I agree. They need to stop getting on our bad side.” He replied, nodding a bit. As Isa searched and found the bruises on his back and wounds on his leg, his glare steeled at the templars. The urge to kiss those bruises away came with a vengeance, however it’s best when they are alone and not with a bunch of brutes (And he doubted the sister would appreciate personal contact from a couple, hetero Or not). Growling while tightening his grip around his love’s waist as he leaned in closer; protectively shielding Moss. Even when the merman shouted at them, the redhead saw that look from the old man. His snarl twisted to a smile. One that promised pain should he say anything. Thankfully, the old man stayed quiet. So Isa quietened down and looked up at his fiancé, smiling softly. Squeezing him again, in comfort this time.

”No worries, Love~ I can bless it with holy water.” Because of course he would treat templars’ touch like a demon’s.

Zer0

 

[Sisyphus Happy]

- Drow Camp -
"Shattered Golden Dome Courtyard, December 30, 600, Afternoon"​

Lysanthir just looked on politely at the mention of the troll chieftain. "I will mention your offer if I meet someone desperate." he inclined his head. "And thank you, but we have servants bringing up water for us. I can however have someone give you empty jugs if you wish to store water for yourself." He looked over to the main ruins of Barad Eithel. "There is a market there, I am certain they have maps for sale. In fact I think I will send someone to purchase a few copies for me and my people

Health: Healthy
| Toughness: Background Ability (10) + Armor (1) [11] | Spell Power: Background Ability (14) + Knowledge (4) + Equipment (1) [19] |Manna: Background Ability (4) + Knowledge (6) + Spellslinger (4) [12/14]
Condition: 3 | Roleplay Points: 1

Χάρων ​

Charon nodded his assent and turned away, walking at a comically brisk pace toward the exit. With another cursory glance around, he didn't detect Nava and opted for a sharp whistle to call his new friend (and ward). His fast pace looked comical. With a giant counterweight trailing off of his bum, Charon needed to lean forward a little in his walk and the tail bobbed in step with him while his hips were forced to twist back and forth so that his tail rippled like a ribbon being jerked back and forth rapidly. Something in the angle of his body and that of his tail was uncannily reminiscent of a lizard. His form scrambled through the camp to his tent to collect an unassuming brown cloak, which he threw over himself while rolling up and curling his tail so that it was not very obvious under the expanse of brown cloth. His covering billowed in the air rushing past him at the pace he was taking through the camp and the town.

At this pace, it was hardly twenty minutes before he returned, rolled canvas under his arm. Wasting no time, he threw off the cloak on his way back to his tent. The sound of rushing water filtered through the camp for a few moments before fading back to silence. His head peeked out from the tent followed shortly by the rest of his body. At a more leisurely pace, he made his way to Lysanthir, but on a circuitous route. He left his tent and walked toward the back of it, taking a snaking path from the outside edge of the camp in a wide spiral around until he finally reached his mark, his eyes cast all around as he went, inspecting every unit of volume in the camp that he could.

Purchased Map: -5 Metal