Eneia: A Story of Aether and Chaos - IC

[Mythy the Dragon-Wolf]

The city of Labyrinth. A mere century old, the city takes up almost the entire island that it is located on - and in its center is the whole reason for the city's existence. The grand stone archway that holds the portal to the Below. While there are all kinds of craftsman, messengers, and everything that would be expected from a city within Labyrinth, the most prominent profession is the Delvers. Delvers is the name given to those who go into the Labyrinth and bring back materials and knowledge. Many Delvers join small groups with one another, for safety and companionship in the Below. Some of these delver groups do other mercenary missions when they can, others only ever delve in the Below.

We follow a group of the former kind, known as Warhon's Warhawks...
~~~~~
< @Jessica2477 @Quiet One @Ariel @Orikanyo >

Lotharial woke in the wee hours of the morning with a start and a gasp, cold sweat running down her face, as were tears. She had to remember that was in the past. That whole, horrible night, that night of blood and fire.. it was all in the past. And she wasn't alone anymore, anyway. As she looked around her bedroom - the one she shared with another of Warhon's Warhawks - she allowed herself a small smile. She shared this room with Mati, a rather cute and bumbling Warforged that had joined her new family not that long ago

However, not knowing if the warforged was resting (she didn't know if they actually slept, or at times just went a little dormant to regenerate energy in their core) she slipped out of her bed, and would gather up her clothes and leather armor, strapping it all on before going down to the kitchen. The Warhawks' name had never really been explained, but Lotharial had some ideas. Either way, she began to gather up strips of salted pork, eggs, and herbs to start making a nice breakfast platter for the team, which would include warmed bread.

The boss had told them last night to go on a delve in the morning. He'd even said that they wouldn't need to worry about requisitions after, just to go and make sure their skills and teamwork were sharp. He'd also said that he wouldn't be joining them, as he was going to be lining up a job for them outside of Labyrinth.

A new adventure always had Lotharial excited, and she began to hum a small tune as she worked on breakfast while waiting for the rest to awaken...​

 

[Orikanyo]

Batsaikhan

The sun shines above, each foot sinking deep into the snow, the chill between the toes filled the heart with familiarity as the piercingly fierce winds call to him again, memories of home, his family, friends, his dreams are often filled with these. The cold never truly bothered him, he'd often wait outside and soak in the retreating coldness of the night to be better prepared for the day.

He would think at those times, remember his happiest moments to try and beat the coldness outside with the warmth within.

He missed those mornings the most, even missing his sister's yelling, telling him to come inside out of the cold. he had many sisters, So he suppoused his current hunting group feels comfortable due to that... new sisters, new hunts... Hmm... Whats... that smell?

Hmmm.....

Mhhhmmmm.....

He seemed to lean up with the scent on the air, his closed eyes opening to the smell of warm bread, ham and eggs... Something he will never, in a thousand years regret is trying out bread. They had no true wheat in his home, meat was a staple and often the sole thing to eat aside from varying small vegetables they could trade for or find...

But bread... yes...

With butter...

Melted cheese...

meats atop of it...

He finally awoke from his stupor, only to catch half the drool from his salivating with a wipe. The orc turned in his bed, shaking off fur after fur to finally lean his legs over, first pulling on his pants, then boots, leaving off the shirt as it.. Well.. it was honestly way to hot in these lands. he left the shirt so lovingly wrapped up in his backpack and stretched, before standing up straight.

With a customary butt scratch, the man opened the door and waddled his way over to where the smells of bread were. Eyes peering around a corner, he spotted one of his party, the white haired elf. For the smaller peoples, the elves were.... Skinnier than most, in truth Batsaikhan figured she should eat more to get some meat on her bones... Ilaryll and Sephura were also so very pale.. he worries for them...

Mati... he had no clue what she was. Nice enough though, but strange.

Either way, these women needed to learn from his sisters and EAT!! Meat on the bones or they wont last the winter! Did they have winter in the southlands? Might explain why they were all so skinny...

"Sister, you roused me from sleep again with your cooking. I fear you may make this the best part of being in this hunting party." a big toothy smile plastered upon his face as he entered the area. "...Err... others not up yet?"

@ all

 

[Jessica]

The scent of the cooking meal that Lotharial had set had gradually awoken Sephura from her slumber. Her eyelids slowly opened, but she did not move just yet. She simply stared up at the ceiling, blankly looking at the nothingness as what sounded like voices were heard just outside of the door.

Was it time to wake up?

Yes, it was.

She wasn't hungry, but she knew Batsaikhan would throw a fit if she didn't eat whatever Lotharial had cooked for them. He gave Sephura a scolding the last time she skipped a meal, and the time before that.

Lotharial...

Batsaikhan...

Ilaryll...

Mati...

Family, whose names still felt so foreign on her tongue...

...

Maybe she should feign sleep for a little longer. That way her family could eat their meals first, and as much as they wanted before Sephura. It was one of her duties as a sister to this "hunting party" family that they eat their fill. How would they ever eat enough if she got in the way of that?

That would certainly not do.

...

Perhaps she should just wake up and tell them to eat first. Play stubborn.

She's played this "feign sleep" trick before, and it had not gone well. They saw right through it.

It was her life's purpose to keep these three happy, and yet they make it harder for her to fulfill it... Maybe one day they will realize their sister Sephura just wants to see them happy and give in to her polite requests.

Heh. Maybe.


Sephura got up from the bed and quickly brushed her hair before getting up and approaching the door. She would open it and make her way to the kitchen to make it known that she had awoken.


"I've awoken. I hope you both slept well." She said, looking to both Lotharial and Batsaikhan.

 

[Ariel]

Ilaryll strode into the kitchen, trailing a faint scent of roses damp with dew. Despite the early hour, she was impeccably groomed, her snow-white hair artfully tousled in the fashion of her distant homeland. She wore it down, in the manner of maidens, for her marriage ceremony had never been completed. Only on the morning after the wedding night did a woman and wife put her hair up. Ilaryll knew she would never do this; and so even the act of brushing her hair was a daily ritual of grief.

Not that her comrades ever heard her speak of it. She held her sorrow close to her heart; what words existed that would not be mere mockery of loss? And so to them she was ever soft, gentle and low of voice, courtly in bearing, forbidding of demeanour.

She took a seat at the rough-hewn table and looked upon the simple meal as if it were a course at a state banquet, her head held just so.

"Thank you for the meal, Lotharial," she said, her accent softening her consonants and making each vowel a song. "You do yourself proud, as always."

 

[Quiet One]

With a soft click Mati opened her eyes. Almost instantly the warforged's left hand went to her neck as her other hand stretched out to cast a spell. Then she remembered where she was and flopped onto her bed. She put her hand over her eyes as she sat up. She'd adopted a lot of the organic's behavior, but despite making a similar noise, she can't really sigh. And despite covering her eyes, tears would never come out. She noticed Lotharial was already out of the room. Maybe she was making breakfast for everyone else. Being entirely metal, eating just seemed...messy to her, but they needed to do it, and she didn't want to be alone in this room.

She dressed and left the room. Another thing that was odd to her - Mati had grown up modest and not wanting anyone to see her in inappropriate attire. But both Lotharial and Ilaryll had seen her completely naked and seemed...completely unfazed. Was it because she was mechanical? She still didn't want them to see her naked.

Mati walked into the kitchen and looked around. Seemed everybody was up and getting their meal. She didn't know who to sit next to. The orc Batsaikhan made her nervous. Not because he was an orc, but because he was such a loud and proud personality. She didn't know how to act around him. Surely she must seem so timid and weak to him. Ilaryll was cold and distant. The Voice of Marath told her that she was an important woman lost in great sorrow, so Mati felt an immediate kinship with her. But then, Marath seemed to say thought about just about everyone in her new group. Like her, it seemed they couldn't cry either.

"Good morning, everyone," she said in her quiet voice, distorted with a little mechanical treble. She looked at the table and began to fidget, wringing her hands. "As...a-as you all know, I don't really do...this..." she gestured to the plates of food. "So...w-where should I sit?"

 

[Mythy the Dragon-Wolf]

< @Jessica2477 @Quiet One @Ariel @Orikanyo >
[Collab post with @Majem ]
​

"What a strange man." Thought Gallivan. Warhon held the air of a commander, but it didn't quite feel like the ones he had been accustomed to, the way this man spoke of his troop felt more familiar than that. Regardless, he was told Warhon was experienced with the Below, and so Gallivan decided, or rather begged him, to join him and his band.

Gallivan came to a halt. There it was, the place where the Warhawks resided. His right arm wrapped a little tighter around his stomach and his left hand gripped the note he'd been given a little tighter. A deep breath and then a knock at the door.

----------​

Lotharial had just plated the cooked food on a platter and placed it down at the dining table in the middle of everyone. "As always, sit wherever you want Mati." the elf said, nodding in acknowledgment to everyone. Though after putting the platter down, she cocked her head as if listening to something that no one else could hear - one thing she did often (along with answering the unseen voice).

"Someone's at the door." she said, walking that way before the knock even came. As such, she opened the door right after the knock and glanced at the tree outside before looking at the heavily covered being in front of them. An undead? "Hello, may I help you?" she asked with a small smile.

-----------​

It came too quick. The door opened instantly after the knock. A feat that surprised him, but not as much as the figure the opened door revealed to him. An elf! An elf stood there in the doorframe and greeted him. These fair, lithe creatures had always enraptured Gallivan with their beauty, but he was even more fond of their kind after the generous help they'd offered him in his darkest time.
His hand, still raised from the knock, absentmindedly reached out to touch her face, but as the note it held began to obscure her fair features, he snapped back to reality.

Lowering his hand with a small cough, Gallivan offered the note Warhon had given him. He meant to say something, but the surprise caught him off guard and left him fumbling for words in his head.

-----------​

"Hello?" Lotharial blinked as the figure began to reach to her face, and she began to ready her magic to defend herself if need be. However, they suddenly removed their hand and instead gave her a note. She rose an eyebrow and looked down at it, frowning as she read it.

'My dear Warhawk, please allow this lost soul to join you on your delve. I will return tonight, as planned. All of you be safe.'

The writing was undoubtedly from their leader, Warhon, and Lotharial sighed with a sad smile. "A bleeding heart, as always." she whispered. "Alright then, come on in. I'll make you a serving of breakfast. What're your name?" she asked as she stood to let him inside.

----------​

"Gallivan." Came a muffled reply. The man passed by Lotharial without breaking his gaze from her eyes, though she might not have noticed through his visor. His right sleeve, empty as it was flapped uselessly with each step he took towards the table where everyone could already be found. He looked at each of them for a moment, then reached up to remove his headwear.

First came the helmet. It revealed a graying mop of short, brown and unkempt hair, though it seemed he had a brighter tone of brown on the left side of his head.
Next came the visor. It revealed two brown eyes, though his left seemed to posses a spark that the other did not. The divide in vibrance that could be found in his hair continued down his face, leaving his left eye covered in a patch of skin that seemed to shine compared to the other side.
Lastly he removed his mouthpiece and with the entirety of his face revealed it was clear that his left eye did not shine brightly, but rather the rest of it looked dull in comparison. Chaos magic.

"Good morning." Gallivan said with a bow. Again, his sleeve betrayed the lack of an arm. "I hope you don't mind my sudden appearance."

----------​

Lotharial had nodded to this 'Gallivan' and turned to head back to her cooking area, where she began to prepare a plate of what she had made before answering the door. Though she did look to him as he began to undress his head. She frowned a little at his appearance - a bleeding heart their leader was, indeed - but offered him a smile. "Don't worry too much. As long as you behave, I'm sure you'll fit right in." she said, turning back to cooking. "And the rest of you eat up! I don't want to see your food getting cold."

 

[Orikanyo]

Batsaikhan

He didn't need to be told to eat, in truth he was with a mouth full when she was urging others to! "A great good morning to you!" The orc said through bites, an eye straying from the... Obviously beaten up one arm man to the others. Mati was... looking to sit somewhere it seems.

As such, he patted the seat next to him. "Sit iron sister! Eat and enjoy, long eared friend is splendid cook." He laughed heartily, a laugh that shook the table. When excited his common tongue got choppy, unfortunately he was excited often, so it took abit of getting used to. "No need for worry, eat and grow strong! Sisters are to skinny, wasting away! No good for winter cold." He commented on the others as well, seems he was back at that old topic.

The stern one... She was as frigid as a blizzard that one, so still! Not enough life! But...

"Horned sister sit next to batsaikhan! Pale you are, fill heart with meat! Makes good fill!" Tthe meathead grinned widely, he seemed to almost rule the room with his presence.

...

"...Ah... Where is Warhawk? He is coming to labtinth?" He asked out loud, curious as to their missing leader.

 

[Quiet One]

Mati clenched up - a sound that made audible clicks in her metal body - at the arrival of someone else. By the gods! He was missing an arm! She made to keep herself as still as possible so as not to draw attention to herself. Whoever this new arrival was, he looked heavily battle-scarred and seemed to be a new member of the team. Best to keep out of his way. Then she abruptly jumped at Batsaikhan's boisterous invitation. She looked at the seat and nodded quietly, sitting down next to him and doing her best to avoid eye contact with his mouth. Eating itself was already gross to her, but the orc seemed to take everything he did to the next level.

"Thank you, Batsaikhan, but I don't eat," she explained politely. "Warforged are all metal, you see. We get no nourishment from food. We kind of...feed on ambient mana. If anything, food might cause my parts to lock up." She offered a tiny smile to him. "Thank you for the offer, though."

 

[Ariel]

Ilaryll addressed herself to the new arrival, indicating a chair with a graceful wave of her hand.

"Please take a seat, master Gallivan," she said. "Break bread with us, and be welcome. Take your share of what we have. If Warhon vouches for you, you will like as not have us all in your debt before the night is come."

For all the graciousness of her words, she still looked as if butter wouldn't melt in her mouth; and her eyes tracked his every movement.

 

[Majem]

A strange man. That was Gallivan's opinion of Warhon. He should've figured that his band would be no different than their leader. If he had, he wouldn't be as baffled by them as he was now. Were these people ready for this 'delve' he was supposed to join them in? Did they have any experience at all? He had expected some form of mercenaries ready to venture out and battle, like the ones he'd been accustomed to, but these people.. this scenario.. It felt more like a breakfast back home, where the only fighting done was for the freshest piece of bread and the juiciest fruit.
His gaze, trying to take in everything, instead followed the graceful flow of Ilaryll's hand towards the chair. He blinked twice, then approached the chair she had motioned to. "Thank you." He replied, then awkwardly shifted his jacket as he took a seat, trying to keep secret what he was hiding underneath. Now seated, the sheath of his sword hanging on the left side of his hip revealed itself from underneath his large overcoat.

He stared at the food for a moment, then looked over at everyone once more.
He allowed himself only a cursory glance at the elf, already having enjoyed her mesmerising beaty up close, he felt he could do without the emotions she would well up in him.
After her came the orc, Batsaikhan he heard the warforged call him. Certainly, by merit of race alone, he was a capable warrior, although he didn't expect his kind to be so loud and cheerful, not that he had any experience to go off. Perhaps it was the food.
Next to the orc sat the warforged, a stark contrast to the orc. While he was loud and large, she was quiet and seemed to make herself as small as her metal body allowed. With her body, she might hold her own in a fight, but her lack of confidence made Gallivan doubt in her capabilities.
His eyes continued, now on the lady that offered him a seat. She wasn't an elf, but was an enchanting beauty in her own right, with a warm and melodious voice that could melt anything save for her own icy gaze. She seemed methodical in her examination of him and he stared at her for a second longer than he had the previous two members. At first he might've dismissed her as frail, but she had the air of assassination, though her white hair might not make her the sneaking kind. White? Aether? Questions for later.
And questions for later came with the final member. A human with horns? Gallivan had no idea what she was and could therefore come to no conclusion about her. She was an unknown in this group.
Two out of four could definitely take care of themselves. Four? The elf, was she part of the expedition? Was she merely a caretaker?
Two out of five. These were the people he was to join? Were they? Who among them would be going on this delve?

Gallivan helped himself to a small portion of food. He had already eaten a modest breakfast, but he'd been invited to join in and he didn't want to miss out on a meal prepared by the gorgeous elf. "Many thanks. The spell-studies in their endless knowledge care little for cuisine." He said before digging in. As he ate, he mulled over his previously formed opinions of the group.
"Who among you will be going on this 'delve' I've been told about?"

 

[Mythy the Dragon-Wolf]

Lotharial made another plate of food in a few moments, given the fact that she had only prepared enough for them without Gallivan's presence. As she worked, she would listen in on the group, and at first giggled at Batsaikhan's words.

"Bats, Warhon told us that he wouldn't be joining us today. Did you forget already?" she asked as she turned to go sit down at an empty seat. She hummed a little, before looking curiously to Gallivan. "We all go on our delves.We're all Warhawks." she said to the other, cocking her head at him. "I should be asking you what you bring to our group. Right now you're a bit of an unknown, and we need to know what it is you'll be able to do with us."

 

[Majem]

Gallivan looked over at 'Bats' as the Elf reminded him of some prior given info. So far he was playing into the meathead stereotype quite nicely, which would make complementing his abilities easy since they were likely straightforward. The familiarity with which they spoke was a plus. If they knew each other well and played to each other's cards right, along with such diversity in members, this team could handle just about any situation. He began to warm up to the idea of joining this team. But Lotharial's question did give him pause and the smile that had begun to show on his face faded again. What could he do for them?
Gallivan began to self-reflect. He didn't doubt his own skill, he was certain he would be a good addition to any team. What ate at him was the way he had approached this. He wasn't getting new team members, new people he'd have to assess so that they could be evaluated on performance and corrected or be correctly adapted to. It was him that entered this group no, this family, as an outsider. A diverse group like this was an ingenious creation, bringing a wide variety of unique skills to the table and would no doubt be able to tackle almost any situation. But Warhon didn't seem like the type of man to care for, or go out of his way to have that sort of team. Why would a cast like this come here, why would they want to be here? Why was Gallivan here? He wanted to be here now. But why did he come here? He was broken. Were they broken too?

His eyes had drifted down to the table while he was thinking, but they suddenly shot back up to meet Lotharial's. He gave everyone another passing glance before he began anew. "Merc Gallivan, at your service." He smirked as he gave Lotharial a small salute. "Been dealing with Chaos and Aether infested beasties at my parents' farm since the day I learned to hold a weapon. Got into mercenary work at the age of 17, so that's uhh, nine years now?" He said, leaning back in his chair and scratching the back of his head as he made sure his math was correct. "Mostly did work as a scout during that time." He continued as he deftly retrieved the spyglass from his bag and spun it around in his fingers a few times, before returning it to the bag. "Light on my feet and good at climbing, it just made sense." He chuckled, though the act he had put on just now seemed to break as he dreaded what he was about to say next. "Didn't see the most action during that time sure, but I've become more intimately acquainted with my sword in recent months. You could say.." He paused and opened his jacket. As he stood up, his jacket fell to his chair and he unsheathed his sword-arm before holding it up for everyone to see. ".. It's become an extension of myself."
Another chuckle escaped him, a weak attempt to make light of his situation. He raised his left hand then, holding it next to where his right would be and looked sadly at both sides. It still felt surreal, like he could feel his grip on the hilt and let go whenever he wanted. Instead it had fused into his arm, flesh wrapping around the grip, never letting go of his new metal limb.

With the jacket removed, everyone could also see the leather armour the man was wearing underneath. They could see the discolouration on his face running down his neck under the armor and back out on his arm. An arm that, despite the extra weight of a sword, moved as freely and easily as the other.
Gallivan looked back at Lotharial and shrugged, before sheathing his sword-arm once more and sitting back down. "That's what I bring to the table. I hope it's enough to repay the wonderful meal."

 

[Ariel]

Ilaryll nodded, and leaned back slightly in her chair.

"You must forgive our questioning, master Gallivan," she said - was there the slightest hint of thawing in her voice? "We who delve are bound by trust and fellowship, and we must know well the people in whose hands we might have to place our lives."

A red rose appeared in her hands, whether by legerdemain or true magic it was impossible to tell. "We are odd beings, after all, utterly fragile and yet immensely resilient." Her eyes met Gallivan's, searing with a blue inner flame.

"We trust you because Warhon has vouched for you. You will start earning that trust."