The Seed of Life

[Elle Joyner]

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A single candle lit the space, the orange glow flickering in jittering disposition with shadow. All around, the airship was silent, swaying gently with the rhythm of the engines, the hum of wind beyond the darkened oval window the only sound. The scent of spices lingered in the air, clinging to her from the bath she'd had earlier - a small luxury, but a welcome one after such a long, tiresome journey. She had soaked until the water cooled, scrubbing from her skin the weeks of dust and dirt, sluiced away grime until there was little left in reminder but faint scars and memory. She'd washed her hair as well, and it hung now in slightly damp, pale blonde spirals along her bare shoulders and down to the middle of her back.

Furs lined the mattress she sat upon, warm and musky. She had taken one and wrapped it around her torso, wearing little beneath it but the weight of nervous energy, that peppered her honey-toned skin with goosebumps and a faint pink blush. Outwardly, she seemed a picture of pristine serenity, but inside, her heart hammered, her mind swirling.

She loved him. Deeply. Gravely. Of that, she had little question. He had come into her life and translated her world, and inescapably, she had fallen for him. It had seemed so unlikely before, but inevitable, now… and too many times she had come so close to losing him without having had a chance to tell him what he meant to her. She had pressed up against it in Lauderdine, but ultimately the words had failed her. They had come back together in that way that felt etched now, into the depths of her soul, that revealed to her the capacity of her own heart, but also the reality that to some degree he shared those feelings. But still, she had not been able to say it...

But the words would not fail tonight… Though in case they did, there was always the notion that action often outweighed conversation. Either way, things were only going to grow more dangerous, more threatening… and if she had learned anything it was how quickly someone could be ripped from your life, no matter how much you cared for them… Whatever time she had with Hal Midigan, she wasn't going to waste one more moment of it. She loved him, and she was going to make absolutely sure there was no question in his mind of that.

And so in that small room she waited, forcing herself to breathe, forcing herself not to fidget or pace, or lose her nerve, the words she intended to say rolling through her mind like a prayer… and in a way, perhaps that's exactly what it was.

He had been wandering the halls of the airship for some time, or at least the halls approved for passengers. Events lingered on his mind and while for a time he chose seclusion, he felt in his heart the need for comfort in company. Hal was beginning to feel homesick as they flew further from the Northern Mountains into unknown territory. He caught glimpses of the forests and mountains that divided the Allied Kingdoms from Edros through the windows lining the ship. They had already been through so much, perhaps too much, and yet the journey had only begun.

His body ached and his mind wandered without direction, though his feet carried him to a particular door. Wynleth had been a comforting soul in all the turmoil. She had been at his side with every decision, and now he felt he could not do without her presence. Hal hovered his knuckles over the wooden door that separated himself from her. It was a thin barrier, yet he still felt too distant. This was a feeling he did not understand; a constant desire for another person both emotionally and in presence. His hesitancy froze him like stone suspended in a pose of internal debate. He was not sure how appropriate he was being given their circumstance.

Fingers finally rapping against the door, he knocked and cleared his throat. "Wyn?" he said softly. "It's Hal. I'm sorry to bother you. I was just... restless." He winced at his poor execution, and waited for a response with flushed cheeks.

At the knock, Wyn straightened upright, shifting slowly from her position. In truth, she hadn't yet formulated much of a plan as to how she might approach Hal, but as he had so often before, he seemed to intuitively know her need for his presence. A warm smile twitched to her lips and catching it with the edge of her teeth, she breathed out a nervous chuckle.

"...It's open. Come in."

Hesitancy once again took him in a passing moment of uncertainty. Hal didn't wish to impose himself, nor did he desire to make things awkward with Wynleth in any insinuation of his sudden neediness. His hand gripped the doorknob and turned it slowly to enter.

"Apologies," he began. "I was just coming to see how you were fairing."

"It's no worry, Hal. I… I'm glad you came." Raking her fingers through her hair, she sank back, watching his hesitancy at the door with some curiosity, "...I'm not entirely sure how I am, to be honest. It's… it's been so quiet. I keep waiting for something to happen, but nothing does… and then I'm left with my thoughts, and I'm not so sure that's much better."

"Would you mind company then?" he asked as he stepped into the room. "I've been feeling rather the same, to be honest. And I still can't bring myself to willingly close my eyes for too long."

For a moment, her expression fell, her eyes lowering as she shook her head, "I… I don't sleep much, either, these days. I haven't, since… since the monastery. I was rather hoping you'd come, honestly." Her gaze shifted, falling absently on the solitary candle across the room, her fingers tensing anxiously around the fur blanket wrapped around her form, "I… I wanted to talk to you about something…"

Hal walked over to the bed and sat upon the edge. He looked over at Wynleth with concern laden within his furrowed brow. "I'm sorry you've not been able to sleep," he said, and it was genuine. She had described to him once what had happened at the monastery. To still be burdened with it gripped his compassionate heart. "What is it you wished to talk about?"

"...Everything?" With a soft, shaky laugh, Wyn moved her eyes from the candle over to Hal, not entirely surprised to find her heart rather suddenly pounding against her chest, "Have… have you ever wanted to say something? And you just can't get the words right?" Looking down, she plucked absently at the fur, pooled around her legs, "This… this was all much easier in my head, a few minutes ago."

His eyes turned as well to the candlelight. It was such a small glow in the expanse of the quarters, and the light danced with the hum of the engines muted behind thick exterior walls. Hal nodded his head somewhat as he fixated on the light.

"Aye," he said quietly, and then released his own chuckle in a huff of air. "More times than I'd like."
Breathing out, Wyn moved to the edge of the bed and rose to her feet, taking the fur covering with her. Unconsciously her feet carried her to the small oval window and looking out into the dark expanse, she pressed her palm to the cool pane, "I never had much, as far as expectations went, when it came to this journey. I never actually expected to make it this far.... so I didn't plan for much. The funny thing is, I'm not so sure any amount of planning could have prepared me for how things have gone. The... the way they've turned. That is to say... I don't think I could have prepared for you."

He watched as her silhouette was lined by the flickering light as she moved to the window. A brow raised at her final comment, and he wiped the sweat from his palms on his pants. "Prepared for me?" Hal repeated. "I don't think I follow."

"No..." Smiling dryly, Wyn shook her head, "I don't imagine I'm making a very good go at this." Turning around again, she shrugged, "In Lauderdine... When we were headed for the inn, I told you something... Something regarding your... importance to me?" Rubbing the back of her neck, she turned her gaze downward, "I... I may not have been entirely as clear as I should have been..."

He felt strange being on her bed now. Hal slowly pushed his palms down the lap of his pants before rising to a stand, the movement hitching with a sudden halt as he felt the stiffness of his joints refusing to move in regular fashion. It seemed the events of Lauderdine took its toll in a physical sense as well, and Hal fought back the grunt as he straightened his stance. "What do you mean?" he asked as he quickly recounted the events. Everything felt hazy and blurred and disjointed in timeline, but he could recall a moment or two shared between them that hinted at something that had somewhat haunted his thoughts. Given all she had been through, he dismissed it as his growing feelings running away from him to fill in the gaps of what he did not know or understand. She was a difficult read for him, though most people were when one cares too much about everything.

Color brightened her skin, and looking up, she met his eye with an uneasy glimmer of uncertainty, "I suppose what I'm trying to say is... I never came into this expecting to... to fall for someone. But I imagine it was inevitable with you."

He couldn't help but break a smile, a sheepish laugh escaping him with the affirmation of equal feelings. "Aye," he said as he took a step toward her. "I have thought the very same. I just... With all you've been through... And your friend... Well, I just didn't want to aggravate anything..."

Breathing out, Wyn shook her head, eyes bright and wide, rather suddenly glistening wet with messy, unkempt emotion, "...Oh, Hal. I... I wasn't sure. I thought... Well, no... I didn't think. I was too afraid... and then Lauderdine happened, and I didn't know if I should. But I never told him... Arun... how I felt. And then he was gone. And I kept thinking if I had the chance over again. Then you happened and I could feel it happening all over again, and I couldn't... I couldn't let it. I don't know what'll come of us, Hal. If any of us will make it through this... but I can't, no... I won't go another minute without... The thing is... I love you. I have... for some time, now. That... that's it. And... and I don't have much to offer you... I don't know if you'd even want it. But what I do have is yours. Everything."

Approaching her, Hal smiled softly at her words, fingers brushing over her cheek before combing through her dampened locks. The care and consideration for the woman before him converged, and what he did not understand became suddenly clear ash she uttered her confession. Love in a romantic sense was not something he had ever experienced before, but he was sure this was it. "I love you, too," he said softly in return before bringing her closer. His lips brushed against hers gently as if to savor the tender moment more tangibly.

It was soft, something in between a laugh and a sob, as with all delicacy, gentle lips pressed to her own, a mountain of fear and uncertainty crumbling in that one moment. Trembling fingers brushed along his jaw, and pushing up onto her toes, she propelled herself as close as form would allow.

He brought her closer to him, if he were even capable of doing so with how the distance between them vanished in the moment. Hal was captivated and entranced by the fluttering sparks that propelled the desire within him. He could not force himself to part from her lips, nor did he care to.

A notion shared, ultimately, for Wyn pulled away only when her lungs demanded a breath, though not far, her forehead dropped to his shoulder, her eyes falling closed. Fingers, trembling, wrapped in the folds of his shirt and after a moment, she straightened to meet his gaze, "...Stay with me?"

He gave a slight nod of his head, hands upon her hips above her blanket as he stared down at her. As much as he desired to continue their interlude, he was captivated even by the subtlest movement of her lips as she posed her request. There was a heat upon his skin that bristled to bumps as the chill of anticipation struck through him. Hal could contain himself no longer as he moved back to her lips and guided her slight frame to the edge of the bed.

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Collab with @Effervescent

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[rissa]

Sleepless

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A collaboration between @Red Thunder and @rissa​

Her shoulder still ached and her mind was growing increasingly numb. She needed to rest, but once aboard the airship, sleep would not come. Having left the group to claim a room and much needed rest, Inara found that the slight swaying of the ship was nauseating and without her feet planted firmly on the ground, her heart wouldn't stop it's thundering thud-thud-thud against the inside of her chest. After a too-hot bath, in which Inara was able to see the entirety of the aftermath with her encounter with the Shadow Casters, she changed into a new set of leathers –having retrieved her bag and most of its content from Wynleth during the trip to the skyport- and sat upon her bed, arms wrapped around her knees, desperately waiting for their journey in the sky to come to an end.

Waiting and brooding however, did not suit Inara well, and soon she was up and pacing about her room. She couldn't help but wonder what Zahar would think of her, high in the sky, on her way out of the Allied Kingdoms. That was his dream, not hers, yet somehow their destinies had switched, and instead of spending her days prowling through the woodlands of Emalnahar, she'd followed a cryptic Shae… and helped find the Seed of Life. As she traced paths through the room, her mind traveled to this and that, memories long past and dreams forgotten. Her heart still thundered in her chest, stomach still fluttered with nerves until finally she could take it no longer.

Stalking out of the room, Inara walked into the common area, searching for a familiar, newly scarred face. He wasn't there however, so she took to meandering down the halls, wondering which room he could be in. Had he visited the physician? How were the sutures holding up? How much pain was he in?

"What're you doing, she-elf?"

Inara jumped at the gruff, raspy voice and slightly embarrassed, a flush creeping into her cheeks, Inara turned to face the orc who'd spoken. "I-I'm looking for someone, one of the members of my company. He wasn't in the common room and, er, well I'd like to see if he's okay."

"The poor fool with his face shredded to bits?" The orc asked.

With a wince, Inara nodded her head, glancing down at her feet as she spoke. "Yes, his name is Trynten. Do you happen to know where he's at? Perhaps he's still with the physician…"

"No, he's not." The orc replied. He cocked his head to the side, giving her an odd look. "I saw him entering the room down at the end of the hall. The one on the left."

"Thank you," Inara said gratefully, turning to where he spoke of. "I appreciate it greatly."

The orc merely grunted and with a turn of his own, strode down the corridor and out of sight. Inara walked down the hall on silent feet, though there was no one else to take the orc's place. Hesitantly, wondering if the woodsman was asleep, she knocked softly on the door three times and mumbled Tryn's name.


The fog in his mind had slowly dissolved over the course of their travel. Indeed, Trynten hardly remembered the journey at all, so the bed he now found himself in, while inexplicable, was far better than the death he might have expected at the hands of angry elves or, worse, terrified friends. Not that he blamed them if they were; he knew perfectly well how much of a liability he was. They only reason he found himself to linger and prolong that liability was that Memory Inara mentioned.

The Memory! The remaining fog fled, and he opened his eyes. That action itself he quickly regretted, but not so much as the shifting he did in his bed of furs. Pain lanced up his arm and chest, beatened to his mind by the cold fire that lined his face. No, better to lie still and wait. The wooden ceiling above him was about all he could see, so whether he was in an actual room or in some cell was unclear. What was clear was that he was on a boat of some kind, though the swaying was not quite as he might have imagined it being. It was as if the axis of sway were above him, instead of below. But he shrugged; Tryn had never been aboard a ship, so who was he to say? Surely, given what they knew of him now, the other's wouldn't have taken him onto one of those airships...

The others. He frowned; what must they think of him now, and what might they be planning to do? But he could not move; it was too painful.

At the gentle knock, he turned his head minutely. He thought he'd heard a voice calling his name, but he couldn't be sure.

"Come in," he answered, steeling himself for whatever may come.


At the sound of Tryn's voice, Inara cracked the door open slowly, glad to know she hadn't woken him. He desperately needed rest - so did she - but fear and sudden insomnia were getting the best of her. She entered the threshold hesitantly, glancing around the room, noting that the layout was an exact replica of her own. Her eyes fell on Trynten, lying on the mattress with furs piled on top of him. Sighing, Inara closed the door behind her and sunk to the floor, head resting against the only entrance as she had done in Lauderdine. The Thall looked hellish; ghastly pale and looking far weaker than Inara could have ever imagined possible. Four angry red gashes snaked across his face and Inara, already nauseated, felt it hard to look at him.

She closed her eyes, almost comfortable since leaving the sweet, sweet earth. She didn't like the minute sway and ebb of the airship and with every passing moment it became harder not to focus on it. Biting back a yawn, Inara glanced back at her riding companion. Despite his injuries he was still alive, still with them. Still able to carry on with their quest.

"How are you faring? It's been less than a day since the attack and yet it feels like a lifetime ago... H-how are handling… you know or maybe you don't…" Inara sighed. "The Maldviri… well, let us hope she managed to meet up with the Naveri, for she is not here with us on the airship. Everyone else though, they're safe, as is the Seed."


"She..."

Tryn fell silent. So, Azzara was gone then. It wasn't enough that the Maker had allowed his to suffer as he had, and his companions by extension. No, now his oldest friend was gone, too. Maybe to one day return; Inara at least seemed hopeful of that. But he was unsure. His heart instead told him otherwise, and his spirit sank deeper still as he wondered whether she was but the first to be so ripped from him.

But it was neither the time nor the place for this. Everyone else was safe, it seemed, as was the focus of their journey. The woodsman coughed and grunted as he pushed himself up on his elbow to better see his friend. She looked none the worse for the wear, that his weary eyes could tell. He smiled in answer to the she-elf's question. Rather, he tried to. Thanks to the wounds that traced his face, the left side of his mouth pulled upwards in a permanent sneer. It sat in stark contrast with his gentle, cautious eyes, belying a malice that simply wasn't there. It was a rather unfortunate effect, pushing a smile through it, and it came off more like a grimace than anything. He nodded to accompany it, hoping that his intent was not lost on her.

"And yourself? If all save...Azzara are with us, I guess we got away from the Shadow Casters with little enough trouble?"


Inara watched as his face crumbled and his shoulders sagged. She disliked the fact she had to be the bearer of bad news, still, someone had to tell him. Tearing her eyes from his stare, uncomfortable once again, Inara glanced absentmindedly down at her hands. They were clean, having been scrubbed of dirt and grime and evil, but necessary deeds. And still they felt heavy and foreign since her battle with the Shadow Casters.

Out of the corner of her eye she saw Tryn pull himself up onto his elbows, grimacing her way as he did so. Or perhaps it was a smile; the

Rubbing her bruised shoulder, Inara shrugged, not entirely agreeing with his sentiment. "Tza's leg, unless she visited the physician already, is still injured and in need of suturing. Hal seemed a bit unlike himself though still strong and able- although I'm not one to truly say, I do not know him as well as you. And, well, you almost died Tryn, wouldn't call that 'little enough trouble'…"

She glanced back at him and he's gentle blue eyes, unsure if he remembered what the Shadow Casters had promised. "Lauderdine, Trynten… we left all of those innocent people to their doom."


"But not for lack of trying, right?" Eyes downcast, Tryn spoke with an enthusiasm better suiting Charlie than the torn woodsman. It was an enthusiasm he simply did not and could not feel. To begin with, he remembered so very little of what had happened there in Lauderdine, and most of what he did was from before his Turn. The rest he knew second hand, from those around him to discussed what had happened as he lay dozing or otherwise quite and unobtrusive. More than that, however, Tryn found himself agreeing with the Inara. What if they had never come to Lauderdine? What if-

But no. Laying back, the woodsman lay his bad arm, still mostly immobilized for healing's sake, across his chest and his good arm behind his head. The group was in Lauderdine because Trynten and Inara were there, and he felt certain Inara was only there because Tryn had refused to go onboard the airship with the others to find the Seed, and she didn't wish him to travel alone.

Which meant, yet again, a disaster fell squarely on his shoulders. They'd had to flee, of course; the presence of the Seed necessitated that. And if he were honest with himself, neither he nor any of his friends could have changed any outcome of the battle one way or another. But that reasoning did nothing to assuage his guilt.

Tryn turned his head, his smile from before taking a distinctly more sorrowful edge.

"I'm sorry, Inara. You've been a true friend, and I wish there were something I could say. But you are right; we did. For the greater good, perhaps. But we left them all the same. I...I can't promise we'll be able to bear that...burden easily." Sighing deeply, he looked back at the ceiling. "But I can promise you that we'll never bear it alone. If nothing else, I'll be here to bear it with you."


Her lips tugged into a smile on their own accord and Inara looked over at Trynten tiredly. They shared a burden, Tryn and her, and no other member of Shae Pippa's fellowship would feel it as deep as they… Save Hal who seemed to know Theresia dearly, and the foreigner Vi, who seemed a friend of the Naveri. Still, guilt was etched into all of them after what transpired at Lauderdine, she had no doubt of that. Tryn was right though, at least they had each other. At least they had the Seed… and for a moment, the world seemed a little less dim.

"We'll do it ya know. Save the world and all that madness." Inara said sleepily. "There'll be more hardships, more death… More S-s-shadow," she said through a yawn. "But we'll do it. We'll bring the Seed of Life to the World Tree."

 

[CloudyBlueDay]

HAVE A NICE KNIFE
Tza'Hal @Doctor Jax & Charlie @CloudyBlueDay

"Charlie, meet me back here in a bit." Tza's words were firm and he did not even question them. He nodded firmly and watched her go.

The room was cozy. Quiet. Charlie stood in the doorway for a while, taking it in. He did have his own room back at the home, perhaps even smaller than this, but it never felt that way. Kids barging in and out, screaming just outside, and still.. not enough bathrooms. It was almost deathly quiet, and Charlie might have appreciated it just weeks ago. Now he longed for the noise that would bring him comfort and familiarity.

They had spent all their coin on this. Charlie hoped it was worth it. He set his bag on the bed and opened the flap. The Seed stared back up at him. "Don't let anyone know you have the Seed," Hal said. It was his job now. Seed-carrier. He glanced behind him, at the dresser. Setting his gift from Kraeg atop it, he opened one of the drawers and placed his bag inside, concealing the Seed. Just so it wasn't right out there while he washed up.

He was scrubbing away more things than just dirt and grime. The stench of burning flesh. The screams of Lauderdine. A city in flames, and a city in shadows. And memories that were not his, but felt just as real, just as horrifying. He couldn't scrub away the blisters on his hands, though. And the cuts that riddled his body. And all the things that haunted him, unfortunately, did not disappear down the drain. In his reflection, he could see stubble had grown over his chin and cheeks. How long had it been, and how long would it go on?

He dried himsef off and slipped into his clothes, retrieving the bag from the drawer and heading outside, back to the foredeck. He sat quietly and waited for Tza, hand on his bag that covered the Seed. Perhaps it wasn't smart to take it with him, but.. he felt it was safer with him than alone in his room.

The orc was busy with the captain of the ship at the bridge, meanwhile. While she did not know him personally, she trusted her former lieutenant, who had suggested him for his discretion and speedy, if "cozy" ship. She had heard of him through the ranks, and he seemed a trustworthy sort, though his crew were rough around the edges. She did not mind.

"Major, this is not good. You should have known better than to take a Baladuri arrow to the leg," M'rak tutted at her, and Tza'Hal sniffed.

"T'is a flesh wound."

"T'is not! The Baladuri spike their arrowheads to rip flesh when removed. I cannot just yank it out without pulling half your thigh with it," the captain grumbled at her, slapping her knee in retaliation.

She threw her head back, baring her chin and what would have been her tusks, had they not been filed down.

"What would you have me do, then? "

The captain, a large orc nearly six feet tall, rubbed his grizzled chin, and he shook his head.

"No other choice. You leave it and hope it does not fester. It will scar, and you will never walk straight again, but you will keep the leg," M'Rak said truthfully, and Tza'Hal bowed her head. She had had many grievous wounds -- in fact, far more grievous than this -- but it seemed ironic that such a small sting as this had done so much damage.

Tza'Hal stood and smoothed down her half-robe. Her full one was fluttering in the breeze, after having been washed. She would don it when she saw fit, but for now she wore a thigh-length jerkin without sleeves made of rough cotton. She seemed not at all perturbed by the lack of clothes, despite the chill. No doubt the other crew would prefer such an old orc put her clothes back on...

She walked out to the foredeck where Charlie waited, and she checked the small belt pouch she had at her side. The knife was still there, the blade honed and reshaped. She'd paid another crew member by realigning his spine to have it fixed. It would not do for their sole Seed carrier to wander around weaponless, whatever his affinity for magic. She didn't trust magic, as it seemed a finicky thing, and knives were surely a more steadfast weapon.

She limped towards him and saw the Seed at his side, and she nodded with approval.

"You have it. Good. Keep it with you. I trust not a one of these," Tza'Hal said curtly. Digging around in the pouch, she pulled the knife out and offered it hilt first.

"You need a weapon, and this will have to do."

The hilt was well-worn by what seemed like years of whittling. The wood was shiny from so much carving and handling, and even the blade shone a little from having been fixed. It was a pretty knife, if a little too small for Tza'Hal's liking.

When Tza finally appeared, Charlie jumped to attention, gaze snapping over to the orc as she made her way closer to him. He first glanced over her choice of attire, raising a brow. Despite a trip to the doctor's office, she did not appear to be in any better shape, and Charlie's eyes were filled with worry.

At her nod of approval, some relief did fill him. At least he had done the right thing by bringing the Seed with him. He gave the bag a gentle pat.

From her pouch Tza procured a knife. At first, Charlie flinched, a reaction he was now prone too. But after realizing it was his own whittling knife, his reaction changed. First, one of disgust. Charlie did not want the blade that had been used to burn Tryn's face back together. But after a closer look he could see the blade sparkled and was not warped in any way -- Tza had it fixed.

She'd fixed his knife. The very knife he had carried throughout his teen years, and had fully prepared to finally let go. She had fixed it.

Charlie slowly reached out and took it, turning it over in his palms and then looking back up at Tza'Hal. "You.. you fixed it for me." He mumbled. "So is.. hugging... out of the question?" Charlie said sheepishly, avoiding her gaze out of nervousness.

Tza'Hal had not expected such a ginger reaction. While she frowned at the flinch -- one should not flinch! It was a sign of weak will -- she did see that he seemed to hold the knife in high esteem. After a moment she realized that perhaps -- just perhaps -- he would be perturbed by the fact that it had been used to sear shut someone's face, but after a thought, she decided that a weapon was better than no weapon, whatever he thought of it.

She did not expect the hugging question though. After a shocked moment, she considered it. Was it? After seeing the boy's shy expression, she sighed through her nose and closed her eyes.

And spread her arms.

"Come here," she mumbled. She would allow it this one time! He was a half breed child and was used to such strange customs of affection. She supposed after all they had gone through, he could use the morale.

Charlie's eyes lit up when Tza's arms spread and she mumbled few words of approval. He hadn't expected her to be so willing, even if at all. Before she changed her mind, however, Charlie fell into her arms, wrapping his own around her tightly and resting his chin against her shoulder, closing his eyes and enjoying the feeling of holding someone he cherished tight.

He'd left Tza, back in Lauderdine. For the Seed. Charlie feared the possibility that he might have to do it again. As much as he desperately did not want too.. he knew his place. He knew that it was better to save the world than to save one person, as much as it would break him someday.

Maybe if he was stronger then. He could've protected both Tza and the Seed. He could've helped Inara or Wyn and contributed to the fight rather than run away.

When he finally let go of Tza, Charlie stepped back, looking at the knife in his palm. "Tza," He started, taking a deep breath. "I want you too.." He shook his head, changing the start of his sentence. "Would you teach me how to fight? I know how to wield my magic well enough but it doesn't.. it doesn't make me good in battle to know how to light some fire in my palm. I want to protect all of us. Not just the.. you know." He looked determined -- passionate, even.

Now there was that fighting spirit she had hoped for! Who knew it would take a single hug to light that fire and get him ready to kill the nearest -- er, protect the populace. She batted away the bloodthirsty thought. She had left that life behind, and she would let it trouble her no more.

Smugly she crossed her arms with a 'hmph!' and asked, "Only if you believe you can keep up! I am no mollycoddler. Magic can be a crutch. Useful, but heavy reliance makes one defenseless."

She gestured to the rest of the foredeck and walked out, despite her limp. If he wished to learn how to fight, he must learn the basics!

"Do not be frustrated with me. I will teach you the very basics, and these basics you must take to heart." She thumped her chest seriously. "Without this bedrock, you will hurt yourself. So do not question me if I ask you to do an exercise. Your size is small. Your puny halfbreed body has little strength. We will practice the soft arts instead. First you will learn how to fall. Then, how to move. Then, how to see. These must you master first."

It would be a good refresher for Tza'Hal as well. She was... well, it seemed she would be relying on the soft striking arts much more than her more brutish fighting from now on with. The idea stung her pride.

He had no idea what a mollycoddler was, but it didn't sound very strong at all. Charlie got the hint; TzaHal was not going to train him with hugs and kisses. "I can keep up," Charlie said bravely, watching her walk out farther into the foredeck. He didn't want his magic to be a crutch, and he still intended to master it, but he needed to learn to protect and defend himself in other ways. He remembered his conversation with Hal, how the man had suggested they call him "Master Charlie." Perhaps that would be delayed.

He was nodding along to her every word, albeit unsure what a lot of it meant. He had never thought of his body puny and lacking in strength, but.. maybe it was true? The soft arts? Did that mean a kiddie version of some fighting technique? No, Tza'Hal would not even set foot in the realm of such a thing. She would teach him through and through, and that was why he had asked her.

First to fall, then to move, then to see. He gave one more, sharp nod of affirmation. "Yes. I'm ready. I want to learn." He said firmly.

"Good. First -- the art of falling."

The foredeck was made of hard wood, which would not be kind to their skin. Well, it would send home the message the harder!

"When falling, land on the flat areas of the body. Tuck the head and do not let it hit the ground. Never bend your elbows. You will break them, and it will hurt."

She took his arm and held it out straight, locking the elbow, before patting his shoulder.

"You will land on this when falling sideways. You will land on your chest falling forwards, with arms ahead, not under."

She taught him much of the falling arts, demonstrating first herself before allowing him to try. As a test of what he learned, she frequently shoved him randomly to see if he had ingrained yet the art, and if not, she made him practice.

This continued some hour and a half before Tza'Hal found herself flagging.

Charlie knew not to expect some straight up punching and kicking moves right off the bat, but he hadn't quite expected to start with falling, though. Once they began, however, Charlie began to see the practicalities of learning how to fall correctly. He did not intend to break his elbows.

It was all good and dandy while he memorized the techniques and attempted to engrave the fact that you fell on your shoulder if your were falling sideways, until Tza started the random shoving. The first time was the worst -- he fell awfully hard, and none of the knowledge he had just been given found it's way into his limbs to help him at all. After that, he tried to stay a little more on guard, but she always caught him in the one moment where he was distracted.

"So am I supposed to hold my arms li-- OOF."

But towards the end he was finally beginning to get it -- he was shoved and he fell forward, chest first, arms ahead. A shove, sideways, on the shoulder. Elbows were not bent. His reaction time was still a bit sloppy and even if he moved to the correct position it didn't always end up for his benefit, but he was slowly understanding how to control his body correctly, for his own sake.

While Tza was only beginning to get exhausted, Charlie was already panting like a dog. Apparently, another thing they needed to work on was his stamina.

"Can we-" He paused for breath, rubbing a bruise that was already forming on his shoulder. "Can we stop for now?" He wheezed.

Tza'Hal slapped his shoulder while putting a hand on her hip. That was perhaps the first time in a while that she had been so winded. She had grown sloppy with her form! She must have slacked off on her daily exercises. Well, no matter -- if Charlie wished to continue, she wished to as well.

"Yes. It does no good to continue while tired. You're more likely to injure something. Go, sit, sit," she said, gesturing for him to take a seat somewhere.

"You did well. Hmph. Better than expected," Tza'Hal said with a bit of pride. She had not expected him to go at it quite so vigorously, but his enthusiasm was appreciated, however gruff the orc was. She leaned against the gunwale of the ship and looked over the side at the passing lands below them, a moment of vertigo overtaking her.

"We are far from home," she muttered. It was a glorious sight, indeed. It did more to humble her than even standing upon a mountaintop, or stand in a field of thousands slain.

Charlie flopped onto the floor at Tza's word, relieved to be sitting down at last, and not after a harsh fall. He gave her a weak grin at her words of praise -- she seemed surprised that he had done well. He had hoped to impress her, though he didn't imagine he would after a thousand ungraceful collapses. He leaned back and closed his eyes, glowing in the praise as he tried to regain his breath.

After a few moments he turned to follow Tza's gaze. He didn't know where she had lived but he understood the feeling. They were far from home. He missed it desperately. He let out a noise of agreement, and a small sigh.

"Do you miss your home?" He said slowly, staring at the world below them. "I know I do."

Tza'Hal's eyes narrowed as she watched farmhouses pass below them. Home -- a seemingly simple word. Her mind went blank with its mention, and she wondered what that must mean. Was there a single place she would consider 'home'? She had meant, at the start, where they'd begun their journey, but obviously Charlie had other thoughts in mind.

"I've no home," Tza'Hal answered honestly.

The monastery was not a home, not in the sense that it was a place of great love and familiarity. She stayed there only to rest, to find documents, and then to be on her way again. Since she was a young adult in the army, she had traveled all over the continent. The closest she could call home was Master Darrin's small cottage somewhere in Baladur where she had taken a short rest after being accosted by bandits while escorting a document for the Order.

"What is yours like?" Tza'Hal asked, still watching the landscape pass her by.

Tza had no home. For some reason, Charlie didn't expect her to have one. He didn't mean it in any bad way, but.. Tza didn't seem like the place who had a home. Maybe a house. Not a home.

"Warm." He murmured. "Filled to the brim. Noisy and loud and never a moment of peace, and I thought I would miss it, but.. not this much."

"Before I got that letter, I was going to the Academy of Magic. I was just about on my way there. If it had come maybe a few days later, I might not be here at all." Charlie turned to look at Tza. "I don't think I regret it. Not going. There's plenty of time later on."

Tza nodded her approval. While she harbored no love for the magical arts, she could not discount that it was a large part of the lives of elves and other magical beings, like the shae. Nevertheless, he would learn much more about what the world had to hold out here than sitting in some dusty college, listening to old elves talk about the benefits of... casting.

"A nice place, then. Good. Hold on to that memory. They can be hard to come by," Tza'Hal mentioned, perhaps one of her rare moments of unsolicited wisdom. "And you are right. You've time enough. I was an engineer in the military for nearly ten years before deciding I needed more out of life. I was thirty then. I am much happier where I am now. Do not let age fool you-- young or old."

And she was surprised to find that she meant what she said. She was, indeed, happier as a monk, wandering the hillsides and observing the people, gathering information and learning of magic users, than she ever had been directing cannon fire or trebuchet arcs. While nothing beat the thrill of battle, life held much more than countless slain and constant trudging.

An engineer for the military. Tza did seem to be the type. He wondered what it was like, living in the heat of battle. Charlie failed to remember he was doing just that on this journey. And then she was only thirty. How old was she now? Tza seemed both ancient and young all at the same time to Charlie. She was strong, aggressive, and quick to shout, but her appearance and newly added limp seemed to give her away. He hoped that bit would heal, though. Surely it would.

For now, he lay back against the railing, letting their conversation digest. For a while there was silence between them, but it was not an uncomfortable one. Things were calm and steady, the hum of the engine unfaltering. Almost peaceful. Perhaps just close enough.

 

[Effervescent]

Hal woke to the gentle hum of airship engines. Wynleth was resting next to him in the bed fit for a single person, and so he carefully maneuvered himself away without waking her. The ship had long since passed the borders of the Allied Kingdoms into Edros where the Twisted Woods dissipated into thick forests and rolling hills. It wasn't unlike Thallas in some ways, though it appeared to have far less plains. The sight of it all through the small window of Wynleth's room made him want for a better view, and so he quietly excused himself, the door shutting behind him with a soft click.

The halls were empty, and to that he was slightly grateful. While he was not ashamed of the night he shared with Wynleth, he did not wish to make it a topic of conversation. His feet carried him to the common room where on both sides he could soak in Edros as the airship slowly moved across its skies. He walked out onto the starboard balcony, the crisp Spring morning air already heating up as they inched Southwest.

Lauderdine still haunted him. He watched the sun etch shadows into the greenery as it rose into the sky and reminded him of the Shade and of the Darkness. Were it not for Wynleth, he likely would have never gotten any sleep, for even the dark made him hold his breath with uncertainty. His body ached still from the strain, but he felt so different from before. It took his thoughts to the only other comrade who had been afflicted by the Shade. In the quiet hours of the morning he wondered how he could broach the subject with Charlie or even if it should be discussed at all.

Charlie slept hugging his bag like a child would sleep huggging a stuffed animal; it was pressed closed to his chest, close enough to feel the heartbeat of the Seed through the material of the bag. He would have said this was the best way he thought to protect the Seed, but the most accurate way to put it would be that he thought this was the best way they could protect each other. With the Seed close to him, he felt... safe. Which was strange, because this was the very thing he could lose his life over. Nonetheless. Next to it he was comforted.

Thoughts the Shade had put in his mind still haunted him, and every time he thought of home he had to think of the nightmares that now came with it. He slept uneasily, but he slept. He was learning to protect himself. Physically, and he'd learn mentally too. He would be safe. Eventually, they all would.

Morning came and he decided he'd take a walk around the ship to start the morning off; the cool, refreshing air was welcome and he breathed it in, adjusting the bag against his shoulder. He was quickly becoming used to the Seed's presence at his side. Charlie was still sore from yesterday's training with Tza. Or perhaps still sore from everything. His shoulders and chest ached but it wasn't too bad. He had no intentions of stopping now either way.

Charlie made his way to the starboard balcony, surprised to find Hal already there, surveying the view. Charlie walked up to the man with a sleepy smile, taking a spot beside him. "Morning," he said, gazing at the land below them.

Hal shifted, startled by Charlie's presence as the half-elf greeted him sleepily. A soft chuckle escaped him as he slipped back into awareness and ease. "It's mornings like this I wish I had a good cup of coffee," he said. "Ever had Baladuri coffee? It's quite strong, but very invigorating."

Baduri coffee? "Oh, no," he said curiously. "I don't think I've ever had that. Maybe you'll show me when we're done." Charlie rubbed his chin. "Some mornings I'd make pancakes for the home. It was a lot of pancakes." Charlie laughed at the thought. The kitchen would be overrun with eager children trying to serve helpings before they were cooled enough.

Curious, Hal looked over at Charlie and lofted a brow with a bit of a smirk. "You came from a large family, then?" he asked. "Our pancakes back in Baladur are a bit thinner than what is made elsewhere. There is also a significant lack of nuts in your batter. It should be crunchy!"

Charlie smiled. "I guess you could say that. I grew up in a home for half elves. Half Elves aren't really.. welcomed, I suppose. If they're born in human lands they're killed and if they're born in Eversyth, they're taken from their parents. So I guess I got lucky," He shrugged, brows furrowed. He wasn't sure he was saying it exactly correctly, but it was definitely something along those lines.

"Your pancakes are crunchy?" Charlie said, astonished. "I've never heard of pancakes like that. We put berries, or sometimes chocolate." He scratched his head.

"You ground up the nuts to where they're little bits," Hal explained, his fingers curling to display a rather small size between his thumb and pointer finger, "and mix it in with the batter. And then you bake it. It's really quite good."

He paused for a moment as his internal conflict toyed with the option of discussing what was really on his mind. Charlie was the only one that could relate to his experience. Hal tried to remember if he even tried to tell anyone what he had seen while captured by the Shade. Whatever it was had shaken him.

"What was it like living in a home for half-elves?" he asked instead.

Charlie seemed intrigued by the explanation of how nuts were integrated into the batter of pancakes. "Maybe when I get back to the home I'll try that for them." He said.

Charlie glanced at the man beside him. He seemed troubled by something, but wouldn't say what. At his question Charlie took a moment before speaking. "It was nice," he murmured. "Loud and noisy and messy, but I was never alone. I liked that part of it."

"Was there... something you wanted to ask me, Hal?"

"Am I that obvious?" Hal asked with an airy chuckle. He winced and ran his hands through his hair, sighing as he released he air and relaxed his shoulders. Leaning over the railing, he watched the sunrise blast its colors across the cloudy horizon that gave way to the soft, light blue of the day.

"Did you see her when the... When you encountered the Shade?" he finally asked. "The woman with the hollow eyes."

The.. woman with hollow eyes?

He'd seen the half elf girl who turned to stare at him with gaping sockets. But that was from his own memories, and certainly not something Hal could've seen.

"No, I--" Charlie stopped, suddenly turning to Hal with wide eyes. "How do you -- how would you even -- Hal, did you... did you encounter a Shade?" Charlie fumbled over his words, worried. It couldn't have happened again. Not to anyone else. No.. he didn't want anyone else to feel what he had felt. Who was the woman with hollow eyes to Hal? What had she done, or said? Maybe he was just throwing random things in the air. Please, please let it be that.

Leaning against the railing, Hal nodded his head slightly. "Yes," he replied. "Yes, a Shade got to me when Wynleth and I first reached the inn. I saw the World Tree dying and a woman with...eye sockets like voids spoke to me. She knew my name, derived it from nothing, but then... And then the Shade was gone. I don't remember much upon waking. It was rather strange. I suppose Wynleth got it out of me, I just don't know how. I never asked. She's been pretty shaken about it all."

He looked back over at Charlie and found his friend's concern etched across his demeanor. "I apologize if this puts you at an unease," Hal continued. "I haven't felt the same since."

Charlie covered his hand with his mouth as Hal spoke. It hurt, to listen to him talk. He didn't want his friend to go through anything like that. Charlie could see that it had rattled Hal, shook him to his core, just as Charlie had felt. He felt there all over again. Somehow, Hal's vision felt just as deeply ingrained as Charlie's own visions had been. The woman with the hollow eyes. The woman with the hollow eyes.

He sunk to the floor and leaned against the railing, lips pursed, trying to think what to say next. "I.." He started, and shook his head. "Talking about it helps." He finally said. " You should.. you should sit down too." I'm going to be the wise person in this. Hal wants to talk about it. I have to be there for him. I can't collapse. I can't.

"Tell me about the woman," Charlie said slowly. "What'd she say?"

Following suit, Hal slipped down to sit next to Charlie and sat with his back to the railing, feet stuck out before him. The hollow-eyed woman said many things to Hal a day ago not just in the vision with the Shade. But his experience in the Darkness was unique and separate and far more haunting. Judging by Charlie's reaction it was likely best to refrain from offering too much conversation into the grim.

"She just asked who I was," he said, head slightly shaking as he recalled the vision. "She grabbed hold of me and asked who I was but I was choking. And even though she didn't have eyes it felt like she was staring into my soul. It was a strange moment... She said my name as if she knew me. And honestly I felt like I knew her too. Do you think Shades connect you to something else? Or someone?"

Charlie thought he was beginning to understand what a Shade did, but this didn't sound like it at all. He sat with his brows furrowed, trying to understand this woman that Hal described. It wasn't a memory of his own, and he said he hadn't known the woman, but felt like he did.

"She asked who you were, but she said your name.." Charlie echoed. "My.. Shade, er.. it took my own memories and twisted them. I saw the World Tree dying, too. That was the only vision that wasn't something of my own, I think."

"I think the only thing Shades do is make your worst fear feel real." Charlie said finally. "Maybe you do know this woman from somewhere. Maybe you have a fear of knowing someone but not remembering them? I'm not good at this." He buried his face in his hands. "I don't understand anything that happened. Really, I don't. I don't know what it means to me and I don't know what it means to you, and the only thing I'm sure of is that both of us are hurting because of it." He said, tone almost angry, but the anger quickly washed away to some sense of calmness.

"Was the woman.. all you saw?" He finally muttered.

As Charlie spoke, Hal's brow slowly furrowed and his lips pulled downturn. What he saw within the Shade's influence coupled with what he experienced in the Darkness did not feel like it was just a fear being brought to feel real. He did not fear the hollow-eyed woman from what he could remember. Around her, indeed, struck fear into his heart, but even in interpreting that he could not find the reason for such a vision. He felt as though a word or name was stuck at the tip of his tongue yet he could not rid himself of the sensation.

"I saw the World Tree," Hal continued. "It was twisted and tainted by Shadow. Bodies were tangled and strewn about it. I will admit I fear we will not succeed, but that fear only came to fruition after the vision. And the hollow-eyed woman... I wasn't afraid of her. Not specifically."

Curious about Charlie's experience, he hesitated before inquiring. "What did you see? If you don't mind speaking on it."

Charlie cleared his throat, rubbing his forehead and trying to avoid the inevitable. "I saw.. more than one thing." He first murmured, staring down at the ground. For days he had been trying to push all those memories away, and now here he was, recalling them.

"First.. I was at the home." He started slowly. "But it was empty.. and it's never empty. Perfectly silent. Then I.. I heard the fire crackling, and I went into the common room, and there was a girl there. I knew her. Her parents were killed by shadow. She turned to look at me, and she had no eyes. She was smiling, this terrible, sick smile. And then the fire climbed out of the fireplace and then the whole place was in flames, and I knew that the both of us were...dying. And someone was laughing."

He stopped for a moment, taking a breath. As he spoke he was beginning to feel lighter. Perhaps speaking of it, remembering every detail, helped to let it go.

"There was more, but I don't know if you want to hear it." He murmured.

Hal shifted to situate himself better to look over at Charlie. "If you want to talk about it, I will hear it," he assured, hesitating a moment so as to not ramble on and incidentally further Charlie's possible discomfort. "But if you do not wish it we can change the subject."

Charlie hesitated before speaking again. It didn't feel right to sit here and pour out his troubles to Hal, who was going through the same. "I don't.. I don't know if this is what you want to hear right now." He finally murmured. "I mean.. I know you.. you asked but.." His cheeks reddened. "Is this what you want to talk about now, Hal?"

He felt almost embarrassed that he had broached the sensitive subject at all. He nodded his head somewhat at his error. "I'm sorry," he said. "We can talk about something else. Tell me about your home instead. What was it like?"

Charlie's mouth tugged into a frown as he sat forward, looking to be concentrating hard. "No," He said rather sharply. "No, you wanted to talk about Shades. I'm not going to avoid the subject anymore. You really don't want to hear my talk about my home 'cause I swear, I'll go on for hours." A small smile escaped Charlie as he turned to Hal, looking determined. "So go on. What do you really want to say?"

A genuine chuckle escaped Hal softly as Charlie became persistent. "Maybe I do want to hear about your home?" he said. "I'm actually very excellent at listening, so however long it takes won't be an issue. Besides, we may be in need of a little light in our otherwise dim subject."

Charlie paused, listening to Hal's laugh. It was calm and true, and Charlie relaxed quickly, managing a small laugh too, along with him. "I wish I was a better listener." He said softly, smiling up at Hal. "Okay. We'll talk about my home for a while. And then maybe you'll tell me some more pancake recipes?"

"You have a deal," Hal sad with another chuckle. He was prone to brushing things off, and so this diversion suited him well. Besides, it felt to him Charlie's company was best suited for merriment rather than the unsettling gloom that plagued what seemed to be both of their minds. He was very content to hear of Charlie's life in a home for half-elves and to share his nut-filled pancake recipe in return.

A Collab with @CloudyBlueDay​

 

[Elle Joyner]

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---

While he felt he could talk to Charlie for hours, Hal eventually found his thoughts straying back to Wynleth. It felt almost rude to slip away from her before she woke, especially after the night they shared. It was still early morning when he parted from the balcony. A few of the crew were setting up a modest buffet of breakfast foods, mostly comprised of breads and sausage and a bit of cheese. It was strange to have such welcoming smugglers, or perhaps it was their fondness of Tza'Hal that made them more hospitable. Hal grabbed a plate and put a little bit of everything on it. He wasn't quite sure what Wynleth would like, anyway, and how often will they be able to get a meal as fine as this from here on?

The halls were still quiet where the living quarters presided on the ship. Hal quietly made his way back to Wynleth's room, knuckles knocking gently upon the door. "It's me," he said in a soft tone. "Are you awake?"

With a soft, pleasant sound, Wyn woke from what might have been the best night's sleep she'd had since before leaving home. It was a little surprising, the power he had over her, but most welcome, in many ways. Shifting, her eyes opening at his quiet call, she leaned her cheek against her forearm and smiled, softly, "Good morning... I... oh! Did you bring breakfast? I knew I liked you for a reason..."

Slipping into the room, he huffed a small laugh as he lifted up the plate. "I didn't know what you'd like," he explained as he neared the bed. He set the plate down upon the bedside table and sat on the edge of the mattress, leaning over to kiss her forehead gently. "I didn't wake you, did I?"

"Hmm... only just, but it's alright." Straightening upright, she shrugged, her slender fingers raking through tangled tendrils of hair, "I never actually expected to sleep so well as I did. How about you? How are you feeling?"

He nodded his head in agreement to the sentiment. Though he had been troubled by the events in Lauderdine, her company had aided in a restful night's sleep. His morning conversation with Charlie helped to add to his chipper mood. While the Darkness still haunted him in the dark corners of his mind, he was otherwise more intent in mirth.

"I slept well myself," he said. "And I'm pretty excited about exploring a new kingdom. Edros is so foreign. We've already passed into their boarders."

At his response, Wyn's expression brightened, and reaching out, she gently grasped his hands in her own, "I've barely ventured outside my village as it is. How strange to think we'll be setting foot where so few have." Eyes drifting to his, she smiled, "I never thought I would feel it again, but I almost... no, I am happy, Hal. It's almost enough to feel guilty over..."

"Guilty?" he repeated curiously, a chuckle escaping him as he resituated himself on the bedside to better look at her. "Why do you feel guilty over being happy?"

Laughing softly, Wyn shook her head, "Maybe that's the wrong word for it. It's just... after everything that's happened, I suppose I never imagined it possible. I sort of just expected to feel miserable forever."

He plucked a cube of cheese from the plate and popped it in his mouth as he shrugged a little. They were on what was perceived to be the most important mission in all the world. His giddy air began to dissipate as thoughts of Lauderdine came back to the forefront of his mind. Their mission might have cost the lives of that entire town. He would never get to know until he would be able to travel back home. How long would that be?

"I think we are doing pretty well to find ourselves a bit of happiness every now and then," he said as he smiled over at Wynleth. "We can't always be miserable, even if the world seems to want it that way."

"It's easy to forget, I think... that life wasn't always like this. But there's something to say that even in the middle of it, we've found something worthwhile." Leaning back against his shoulder, she sighed, softly, "It gives me hope, for when it's over."

His head nodded somewhat in agreement. "Aye," Hal said, "and I fear I won't take much interest in adventuring by that point!"

Laughing quietly, Wyn nodded as well, "No. I don't imagine it will have as much appeal, after all of this.What do you think you'll do, then?"

A thoughtful sigh escaped him as he leaned his head back. "Hmm," he began. "Settle down someplace close to home. Live a quiet life. What about you?"

"I hadn't thought much about it, to be honest. I never really saw much of a future for myself back home. I doubt if I went back my mother would even speak to me. We never saw eye to eye much before, but certainly not over my leaving." Reaching over his arm, she plucked a piece of bread from the plate and pulled at it, taking a small bite, "A quiet life sounds nice."

"Surely your mother would speak to you," he said in return, doubt laden in his voice as he took the other bread roll. "I suppose maybe a bit upset but... It just seems like we will be gone a long time. I feel like any loved one will be at least relieved upon our return."

"You're probably right..." Wyn offered, with a small, teasing smile, "I'm sure she'd have a few choice words, anyway." Sitting up, she turned to face him, the smile faltering with a slightly self conscious twinge, "You... you'll come visit, won't you?"

A smile pulled his lips as he huffed a small laugh. "Of course!" he said. "I plan on visiting everyone once this is over with. Charlie was just telling me about his home back in Eversyth. It seems like a pretty place to live. The glowing forests fascinate me."

"It's beautiful... You forget, I suppose... but it really is lovely." Smiling, she picked at the small piece of bread she had remaining, before popping it in her mouth, "Emalnahar sits in the cliffs above them... the trees. You can see them from the village... like a great glowing tide, whenever the wind blows. When Rem and I were children, my father used to tell us that each tree was filled with the spirit of a fallen Sur. Even then, we knew it was just a story, but somehow, it still made them more beautiful. Then again, even the ordinary trees have something about them. Near my home, there an ash tree that grows in the center square... at sunset, the light hits the top of it and the color... it's almost as if it's caught fire. Whenever things were hard, I would climb to the very top... and watch the leaves change color. It was like magic."

"You'll have to show me that one day," Hal said. "I don't think we ever had anything like that back home. Well, you saw what it was like. Evergreens everywhere! Prickly fiends, and they're not good for climbing. But Baladur has some pretty wildflowers that grow on the foothills. They kind of look like bells."

"Hm... That sounds nice. I'm afraid I didn't get much time to see those parts of Baladur. Next time, definitely." Frowning softly, Wyn reached out, weaving her fingers through Hal's, "I don't care where it is... or where I end up. When this is over, if I make it through, as long as I'm with you and the World Tree is safe, nothing else matters."

He grinned and leaned back over to kiss her cheek and pulled away just as he felt his heart flutter. "I can agree to that."

---

Collab with @Effervescent

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[Effervescent]

It seemed the only lonesome soul on the ship was that of the foreigner Djavi Nam Abil. It was to be expected given the circumstance. He was an outsider in more ways than one and had no relations or connections to the people in which he traveled. But his isolation left him oddly restless. He couldn't find the focus to meditate on his Inner Light to replenish what he had lost. He couldn't purge the thoughts of Lauderdine from his mind, and sought to remedy his restlessness outside of the confines of his personal quarters.

Wandering about an airship as a passenger wasn't exactly polite. Vi had been on his fair share of ships both by air and by sea and knew what he was doing. Most airships had a similar layout, especially when they were designed for passenger transport. There were no orcs near the equator, and so for a large portion of his life Vi had never encountered such contraptions. He was admittedly curious as to its inner workings, still only somewhat comprehending the science while still believing it magic. Magic was a far more understandable explanation.

Edros was not an unknown land to the Dvadri elf. He stepped outside onto the exterior stairwell leading up another level. The view was spectacular as the land showed a silent war between the Twisted Woods and their own bioluminescent woodland. It was a striking divide between beauty and decay. To see the expanse of the Shadow's mark upon the world only reminded Vi of his purpose. He needed to locate Iballat. Figuring out where the man had wandered to over the years was another matter entirely, but he surmised he presides either in Krei or Bastillos.

Entering the upper levels, Vi took to wandering without purpose until he ran into a member of the orcish crew. They halted before each other and stared the other down in silence. The moments passed and the orc nodded back with her head.

"We have gulush in the mess hall if you want any," she said in her native tongue.

"Is it the roasted kind?" Djavi asked in Orcish. The orc grinned widely as he responded in her language, slapping his arm heavily with her wide hand before guiding him down the hall. He complied without protest.

Gulush was a strange beverage only orcs tended to drink. It was similar to tea, though it had a roasted root ground into the mixture that gave it a heavy flavor with a thick consistency. Vi enjoyed it, as the root had properties that gave a bit of energy. He sat with a few of the Skadrad's crew in silence as they enjoyed their breakfast and gulush during their break. Vi was reluctant to break the peace.

"Is Bastillos or Krei one of your destinations?" Vi asked.

"We have a drop in Bastillos," explained one of the orcs, "but not Krei. Do your people have their papers?"

"I don't know," said Vi. "But they likely won't need to go through customs for an extended stay off the ship. I have mine. I will be staying in Bastillos."

"We should dock at our assigned port this evening," the orc informed.

They were on schedule, it seemed. Having the passengers on their ship helped with their seedier operations when docking in Bastillos. The rolling hills turned into mountainous ranges rather quickly until the display of a vibrant sunset was shadowed by the interior of Cabric Skyport; a port town built within a gigantic cavern built into a mountain. Ships of all shapes and sizes departed or docked. The buildings were built along tiers within the rock face with pedestrian bridges arching over the docking stations. People bustled and rushed about to their destination in vibrant garments.

Cabric was a rather unique town, and one of the few that was directly open to the outside world. Bastillos was a kingdom known for their underground villages and cities that made use of natural cave systems connected by man-made tunnels. Being a skyport, Cabric was also one of the few locations that was involved in foreign trade and thus had many orcs intermingled among their flavorful citizens.

Over a speaker system similar to Vuaturi communications, the orc captain spoke to both crew and passengers as they slowed to their docking station.

"Attention," he said gruffly. "We are docked for one hour. We will not wait on you to return. That is all."

Hal was eager to explore the skyport. It was nothing like what the Allied Kingdoms had at all and looked far more inviting. Even stepping out of the Skadrad one could hear music faintly playing that reverberated across the arch of the expansive interior. The crew had already begun unloading crates from the interior, the captain discussing something with the dockmaster. Everyone spoke in a different language, Vi included.

"Djavi," Hal called out as he caught up to the elf on the docking station. Vi turned around to look at Hal curiously. "Do you know the language of this place?"

"I do," he said. "They know your language as well. Some do at least." He turned and began to walk again assuming the conversation had ended, but Hal only rushed back to Vi's side.

"Where are you headed?" he asked.

"Does it matter?"

"Well, after Lauderdine," Hal began, "I just figured... we could all stick together?"

Vi shook his head in return. "I have things I must do," he said, and turned to walk away once again. Hal did not follow.

Currently

Your characters are docked in a cavernous skyport and have an hour to peruse should they wish. Feel free to write your character getting supplies, or collab with others once again. The next GM post will introduce conflict.

@Red Thunder @rissa @Elle Joyner @CloudyBlueDay @Doctor Jax

 

[CloudyBlueDay]

Charlie's Crying and Wyn is Dying
a collab between Wynleth @Elle Joyner and Charlie @CloudyBlueDay

[BCOLOR=transparent]Leaving the ship at the skyport, it took Wyn a minute or two to take it all in. The world was so much larger than she'd ever imagined, and it seemed they'd only just begun exploring it. Despite what she had said to Hal about have little taste for adventure, there was still a part of here that felt the thrill of the unexplored, the new, the excitement of it all. What had occurred in Lauderdine, however, had soured the idea a bit and it wasn't without apprehension that she stepped onto the docks.[/BCOLOR]
[BCOLOR=transparent] [/BCOLOR]
[BCOLOR=transparent]Not quite prepared to wander about on her own, Wyn found herself moving, instead, towards a familiar face, pausing alongside the half-elf with a small smile, "Hey, Charlie. I've been meaning to find you, but I suppose I got a bit distracted… How… how are you feeling? Since… all that happened?" [/BCOLOR]
[BCOLOR=transparent] [/BCOLOR]
[BCOLOR=transparent]He was quite happy to be off the airship, just because he slowly felt himself to be missing the wonderful earth below them. He trained with Tza frequently throughout their trip and the bruises were certainly showing, so he felt it would be rewarding to get some fresh air. He looked around gladly at the scenery that awaited them at the port, a big grin on his face, prepared to explore when Wyn paused beside him.[/BCOLOR]
[BCOLOR=transparent] [/BCOLOR]
[BCOLOR=transparent]The half-elf's smile was steady for the most part of her sentence, up until all the feelings whatever. He let out a small sigh and gave a little shrug. It seemed this was all anyone really cared to talk about with him. "Fine," He stated simply. "I think I'm fine." [/BCOLOR]
[BCOLOR=transparent] [/BCOLOR]
[BCOLOR=transparent]Nodding, Wyn studied him thoughtfully for a moment, "Good. I'm glad. I mean… it's alright, if you're not. But if you are, good. I'm still not entirely sure, myself, how I am. Better. I suppose, since I got some rest. Odd, to feel so many different things at once. It's been a tough journey, so far. Not exactly like life back home."[/BCOLOR]
[BCOLOR=transparent] [/BCOLOR]
[BCOLOR=transparent]He frowned and tried to keep his gaze on the floor for a while before looking up at her curiously. He really wasn't sure if he wanted to get into a sad looking conversation right now, especially when he had been excited to finally get away from his problems and explore the port. But Wyn looked like she intended to speak about some of her troubles, and Charlie wasn't going to be the one to deny her that. "Yeah," He mumbled unsurely. "It's very different for me too. I've never traveled anywhere before." He agreed. "Taking a bath was nice, too." Charlie smiled. [/BCOLOR]
[BCOLOR=transparent] [/BCOLOR]
[BCOLOR=transparent]Laughing softly, Wyn bowed her head in another nod, "That it was, indeed. I never thought how much something so small could feel like such a luxury. It's funny. How one's perspective can be so altered by circumstances, that even the little things become so important. And the things which were already important, [/BCOLOR] well… You learn to appreciate a lot more, don't you." Looking to Charlie, Wyn smiled gently, "You all mean the world to me, you know…?"

[BCOLOR=transparent]Charlie looked up at Wyn, almost astonished. To hear her say that definitely struck a chord within the boy, and it was clear on his face how he was trying to process the kind words. "Um," He said softly, cheeks reddening. "Y-you -- you do too." He said quietly. [/BCOLOR]
[BCOLOR=transparent] [/BCOLOR]
[BCOLOR=transparent]"Hal told me this morning that you're from Eversyth? I'm not sure why I didn't realize... Do you plan... are you going to go back there, when all of this is over?"[/BCOLOR]
[BCOLOR=transparent] [/BCOLOR]
[BCOLOR=transparent]Charlie scratched his head thoughtfully. "The plan was to go to the academy of magic," He said. "I think I'll still do that after this is over. But maybe plans will change. I really do want to learn to control my magic, though." [/BCOLOR]
[BCOLOR=transparent] [/BCOLOR]
[BCOLOR=transparent]"It's a wise decision. I never finished, myself, but to control it, to know how? It's important. Listen, Charlie, if... if you do make it back, and for some reason I... don't... Would you mind... could you find my mother and tell her that I'm sorry I left things the way they were, that I love her?" Looking around the crowded port, Wyn smiled faintly, "A lot has changed... but you never do forget where you came from."[/BCOLOR]
[BCOLOR=transparent] [/BCOLOR]
[BCOLOR=transparent]Charlie's eyes widened at her words. He refused to believe that any one of them would die on this journey, and to be asked to carry Wyn's final words for her if she did perish terrified him. "You.. You're not going to die," He said, voice filled with pain and fear. [/BCOLOR]
[BCOLOR=transparent] [/BCOLOR]
[BCOLOR=transparent]"The thing is… I used to be afraid to even think about it. The possibility. But I'm not scared anymore… Not to die. Not… not knowing how important what we're doing is." Biting her lip, she managed another small smile, reaching out to pat his shoulder, "Not that I'm planning on it, Charlie. I have a lot to live for, especially now." [/BCOLOR]
[BCOLOR=transparent] [/BCOLOR]
[BCOLOR=transparent]Charlie gnashed his teeth together to try and stop himself from outwardly crying -- Wyn seemed to think so peacefully of death now, and it scared him that she seemed to have welcomed the idea. Despite his best efforts, tears welled in his eyes at her touche on his shoulder and he fell into a tight hug, trying hard not to get her shoulder wet. "I don't want any of us to die," he sniffed miserably. [/BCOLOR]
[BCOLOR=transparent] [/BCOLOR]
[BCOLOR=transparent]Arms looping around his shoulders, Wyn chuckled softly. Not mockingly, but gently, with a soft shushing sound, "I cannot say what's in store for us, Charlie. But I can promise that no matter what happens, I am so glad to have met you." Pulling back, holding the half-elf at arms length, she smiled, "You remind me of my brother, Remi. He was my best friend… and I see so much of him in you. He was kind and sweet, and he always saw the best in everyone… in every situation. I do not think any one of us would have fared so well on this quest, were you not here." [/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]Tapping his chin with her fingertips, she shook her head, her smile brightening enough to bring a crinkle to the bridge of her nose, "Now, no more tears, Dear Heart. It's only in moments that we can live… and this moment, right here, right now… it's a good one. Alright?" [/BCOLOR]

[BCOLOR=transparent]Hooking her arm through his, head resting for a moment on his shoulder, she gestured with her free hand to the crowd ahead, "Now then… I have never been to a Skyport before. Shall we explore?" [/BCOLOR]
[BCOLOR=transparent] [/BCOLOR]
[BCOLOR=transparent]Her words and the tight hug was comforting, and lead him to wonder what Remi was like. His cheeks grew hot -- surely everyone would have been fine without him, if not better, for he was the one attacked by the Shade at the start, and offered no help in Lauderdine at all. [/BCOLOR]
[BCOLOR=transparent] [/BCOLOR]
[BCOLOR=transparent]But she was right. This moment was to be a good one. He had meant it to be from the start. Charlie nodded his head, brushing away his tears. "Yes," he tried to speak as firmly as possible to get himself away from a sorrowful mood. "Let's go." He offered Wyn a weak smile, but it was true, and the two set off. [/BCOLOR]

 

[Red Thunder]

The Tale of Two Ts
a collab between @Doctor Jax and @Red Thunder ​

Tryn inhaled deeply, breathing in the fresh, moving air that he had so missed during his confinement below decks. It was necessary, he knew; the orcish ship's doctor had seen to him, administering care and treatment in a controlled environment, and any venturing out from his bed would have risked exacerbating the injuries and undoing all the doctor's work. But he had longed to get up and move, to be free of the confines of this damned floating cage, or at the least, to see the sky. And at last he could.

He cocked an ear to the announcement as he leaned against the portside rail, and his eyes widened as the Skadrad eased gently on the breeze toward the cavernous port before them. Never in his life had Tryn seen anything like this. Even being aboard an airship at all was utterly novel to the man, but to see numerous such constructs of varied sizes and shapes, all dancing upon the wind as if moving in choreography to some unheard tune was a sight unlooked for even in his wildest dreams. He leaned over the railing, trying to get a better look.


"You are up. Good. Would hate to have to leave you behind," said the gruff voice of an orc behind him. Tza'Hal approached the gunwale as well to see the sight of the skyport before her. She was genuinely pleased that Tryn appeared to have made a swift recovery, especially given the severity of his wounds. No doubt his face would scar, but that was no matter to an orc. Tza'Hal was more jealous of his mangled face than sorry, as it was a sign of his resilience, a fact she herself could not boast.

No matter, she had her own scars to bear, not all of them outward. Lauderdine flashed in her mind, and she instead turned her thoughts to the port beyond their ship. Orc airships with great mahogany hulls and bright-patterned flags seemed to dance in the wind.

"I've always liked ports. They are full of life," Tza'Hal grunted as she leaned against the railing, favoring her bad leg, still bandaged.


"I'd never been to one before. The most populated area I ever came to was Eversyth, and even that just the outskirts."

Tryn paused, glancing at Tza's favored leg before looking back out across the closing expanse. Her wound, and indeed the wounds of the others, we not his fault. There were factors far beyond his control, and issues he could not have foreseen. Nevertheless, his conversation with Inara came to mind, and in spite of his assurances to her that they did what they could, he still felt guilty. For Lauderdine and other things. A tinge of pain passed through his chest from his face, and he grimaced.

"How's your leg coming along?" His hand touched his new scars subconsciously, and he smiled sadly. "Seems quite a few of us have souvenirs from that experience."


Tza'Hal gave a snort, shaking her head at the thought. Yes... well, at least he could joke about it, that was for sure. That was something she had to say she could enjoy. Charlie, she could not make such dark jests to. Wyn and Hal, she did not know well enough, Inara -- well, perhaps --, but Tryn seemed to have seen his fair share, and he would see even more before their trip was over.

"Hm! Yes, bought fresh from a Baladuri archer. Ach -- it'll heal, and that is what matters. I won't lose my leg, and in some cases, that is the most you can hope for," Tza'Hal answered. "Though it's a pity it won't scar."

She frowned down at it with stark disappointment.

"So you've been to Eversyth? Grand place?" Tza'Hal asked, with sincere curiosity. Her eyes were locked on the great ships that were traveling under the scalloped halls. "Talk while we walk. I've a mind to get a new stave. Going to need one, with this bum leg."

She began towards the gangway, making towards the bustling shops. Her eyes took notice of the clock, as she had no doubt the captain would leave, regardless of how much he enjoyed a former Major's company, and she hobbled her way off.


He shrugged, pushing off from the railing to follow along. It wasn't easy; his wounds, though closed, complained with a vehemence that he hadn't expected. With Tza's back turned, Tryn grimaced. It he wasn't already enjoying the orc's companionship, he might have passed on the chance to wander the market.

"Don't worry; I'll be here to support you should you falter."

He hesitated; with no weapon, Tryn felt somewhat naked. But he would have to make due with that feeling; as far as he knew, his blade remained in the ruins of Lauderdine. Nothing for it. Shaking the feeling from his head, the woodsman followed her down the plank.

The trauma the group had experienced had an odd effect upon the man. Instead of closing him to the world, it had opened him to it. The idea of mingling within this strange environment among Tza's people excited him, and he stepped with an enthusiasm he hadn't expected. Nevertheless, his eyes remained on the ground. Caution still drove his actions.

The port was quite the sight. An odd mixture of a variety of the orcish people the hadn't expected greeted them, bustling on their own business from one point to the next, and he almost couldn't keep up with it all.

"I never got as far into Eversyth as we are here. I strayed only so far as the outskirts to their trade markets. Skins and furs were my income, and it was the best place to find eager buyers."


Tza'Hal ignored the warmth that suffused her for the moment as she stepped out onto the port. How many times had she stepped into an airship port? Her father, working in construction, had found no loss for work while they lived in Assaz'Duun, with its many ports. As a monk of the Order, she was supposed to consider all peoples equal, but she could not deny she had a certain amount of fondness for places so like her own home.

She grunted in affirmation to Tryn's comment, taking it as affirmation rather than any sort of fondness.

"We shall not be gone long."

As they walked, orcs lifted their chins at Tza'Hal, and she did the same, keeping stern eye contact. The Order was... contentious to some. A lot of orcs considered it a show of weakness to debase oneself. Tza'Hal was used to the displays of sneered lips and raised chins, and it no longer bothered her.

She stood in front of a stall dripping with weapons, looking at the staffs mostly. Some were ornate, others simply carved wood. She had little cash on her in her belt -- a gift from the friend who'd pointed her to the Skadrad -- so her purchase would be small.

"An honest trade, one with much use. You must know the land quite well," she said, before looking over her shoulder at him. It suddenly occurred to her that, perhaps, she should not have invited him out. His wounds were still grievous, and men were not so fast to heal.

"We'll go in a minute. What have you seen?" she asked, picking up a cherrywood staff and balancing it.


"Enough." Tryn's eyes lost focus, moving from examining Tza's trade to a bare spot on the ground. "I've seen enough."

He paused a brief moment, hand moving subconsciously to brace himself against the stall's frame. The short walk had winded him marginally, more than he'd have liked to admit to anyone, let alone Tza. Smiling through a small cough, he looked back in her general direction, careful as always to avoid actual eye contact.

"Mostly trees. So very many trees. Tall trees, wide trees, short trees, skinny trees. The occasional deer or fox, of course. Hence the furs. The woods of Syth house animals with some of the finest pelts I have ever seen or heard of. And of course the elves there were kind enough, for what it was worth. One in particular..."

Tryn trailed off, his eye having wandered to the selection of blades presented proudly to willing customers. He missed having his sorely; he felt naked without one. But steel was expensive, and the few coinage he had to his name was back aboard the Skadrad. Ah well; he'd find one later.

"And what of you?" he inquired of his companion. "Did you ever get so far south as Syth?"


"Aye."

In a way, she envied his experience, though from the tone of it, there was more besides trees he'd seen. Still, the wilderness was an odd place for an orc. They were a machination folk, the kind who enjoyed conquering their world with an iron fist. From infancy she had considered a love of nature almost preposterous, for what was out there besides insects and dung and stinging nettles? However, in her dotage, perhaps, she was beginning to learn why elves had such love for the wilderness.

"I have been so far south as Windfeld. Whatever my kind's distaste for the elves, I studied the Sickness and traveled much of Valnahar," the orc stated. Without warning, she twirled the staff she was considering with immense speed, the wind picking up leaves. Displeased with its slowness, she searched for another.


Brow furrowed in contemplation, Tryn eyed the staff she'd just deposited back against the stall. It had seemed a sturdy weapon, full of power and strength and sacrificing little save a bit of speed. Perhaps that bit of speed was what the orc sought.

"Why investigate the Sickness at all? The orcs aren't bothered by it, and as far as I understand it, your people's relations with the elves of any race are...limited at best." She'd found another, one maybe better to her liking. Absentmindedly, more to occupy his hands than anything, he picked up a nearby short sword. It was an odd make to him: straight as the blades to which he was accustomed, this sword had but one edge, and its guard ran both up and down and side to side in a sort of square shape. He ran his thumb along the edge; it was sharper than the two edged swords with which he was familiar. It would cut through most things, but it likely suffered a lack of integrity because of it. "It seems something of an...odd pursuit for an orc."


Tza'Hal actually smiled at that, getting some small pleasure out of subverting expectations. It was the same sort of pleasure she'd gotten from telling her parents her plans as a young adult, that she would shun both their paths to pursue death-dealing instead. She found herself another staff -- and a price tag two digits too much. She quickly put it back with a toss. The last one she had would be a fine pick between price and sturdiness. She quickly reclaimed it.

"Orc hate not knowing things, and the Sickness is something we do not know. Personally, I found it something that challenged the mind. It transcends the flesh," and with that, the orc thumped her chest to demonstrated, "and instead permeates through something else. And if the elves and the shae and others have that something, perhaps we orc also have that something... and can be harmed through it."

Never mind that it was causing suffering to untold hundreds of thousands of the magic-users.

"It means something exists beyond the body, and that is perhaps an interesting question. My order seeks to collect all knowledge, for the betterment of orc and man and elf. i am but a limb of that creature," Tza'Hal stated, paying for her staff from her meager funds, though she fiercely haggled first.

"And you? Have you fierce questions you wish answered?"


"Only one, Tza. And the answer has already been given. The realization of that answer, however, is increasingly beyond me."

He paused a moment as the orc lifted her new staff into her hand. Nodding at it, Tryn smiled, replacing the short sword upon the stall counter.

"It seems that it will serve you well."


Tza'Hal stowed the staff longways behind her back, stuck thorugh the sash on her thin shift, catching the glance of more than one orc. Her dress was not only strange, but, perhaps in its exoticness, somewhat attractive. She paid no mind.

"Hmph. A boring life you lead, then, for what is life, but a search for answers? Bah -- I sound like my trite masters with their platitudes. Yes, this staff will do well enough, given the coinage. Have you need of a weapon? If not, we shall go. Orcish ships are not known for their patience, and it would make me a hypocrite to have whipped my fellows for their tardiness in the past only to commit tardiness myself."


He looked back to the blade, hand still resting upon it. It was beautiful and strong. But not for him. Shaking his head, he turned.

"I would not have your reputation soiled," Tryn replied in absolute seriousness, "so let us be off. The port is lovely, and the merchandise well stocked. But nothing is worth being tardy."

His voice never wavered in its tone, but there was a gleam in his eye belying the somber voice. Gesturing for Tza to proceed him, Tryn began making his way back to the ship.

 

[rissa]

There was a kink in her back. In her neck as well. Yet, she had slept, and to Inara, that was all that mattered. Trynten was asleep when she'd left, his chest rising and falling comfortably, or at least as comfortable as he could be after being mauled by a wyvern. Her stomach ached from the lack of food and in the early morning hours she made her way to the orcish canteen where she nibbled on bits of foreign food to satiate her hunger. Soon thereafter Inara took to wandering the halls again, despite the awkwardness she'd felt when the orc had to point her to Tryn's room the evening before.

"Attention!" A voice said gruffly. "We are docked for one hour. We will not wait on you to return. That is all."

She jumped halfway out of her skin at the announcement, and glancing around wildly, she caught sight of Hal and Djavi near the airship's exit. After a brief talk, the latter walked off into the unknown. Something clicked and Inara took off after him, waving at Hal as she crossed the threshold of the airship. Catching up to Djavi with long, lithe strides, she sacrificed enjoying the cultural shock in order to keep her eyes on the retreating foreigner. He moved with a lethal grace that she'd not seen or experienced before… save the time he saved her life.

"Hey!" Inara called finally, "Djavi!"

At first, he had no intention of halting his trek as he walked towards the stony road. But as he turned to look at who had called his name, he halted curiously. "Is there something I can help you with?" he asked.

Slightly out of breath, Inara stumbled to halt a few feet in front of Djavi. He looked at her curiously before speaking and she rubbed her shoulder absentmindedly as she caught her breath and thought of a response. What had made her run out of the airship like that… after the aloof foreigner who didn't seem to want company?

"Well, I never got to properly thank you… for saving my life. For saving all of our lives." Inara said softly, looking around at the cavernous skyport bedecked with foreign ornamentations. "Were the Naveri your friends?" Inara asked hesitantly. "I met Madras on the road to Lauderdine… she gifted me an arcane dagger. I thought, maybe once we're back on the airship we could... talk."

Inara glanced away from Vi, her cheeks slightly flushing. "Where are you headed, anyways? Could I be of assistance?"

He eyed her over, brow furrowing as she spoke. Despite his initial confusion, he gave a short nod in regards to the inquiry about the Naveri. Vi considered them to be his friends, especially after having worked with them so closely in the time that he knew them. But his eyes flecked back to the airship that was locked into place at the docking station.

"I won't be returning," he said to Inara as he continued towards the street. "I need to find a man named Iballat."

Inara took a few quick steps to catch up with him and then lengthened her stride so she wouldn't fall behind. She glanced up at him with confusion. "How do you know this man, Iballat, is here?"

"I don't," he simply stated as he merged with the traffic of people meandering about the lower level. "But I know of someone who would. It is not necessary for you to come."

Moving alongside Djavi as he maneuvered his way through the meandering crowd, Inara frowned and reached out tentatively to touch his arm. "You are quite vague, Djavi." She smiled briefly and then added, "Not necessary or unwanted?"

Her touch took him off guard causing him to halt once again. Vi looked back at Inara once again with a curious look upon his features, muted, yet still evident in the slightest tilt of his head and wrinkle between his brow. The crowd moved around them unphased by the new obstacle as they continued about their own activities.

"Not necessary," he assured, and paused a moment in consideration. "I am sorry. I am still new to your language. Ah... I know many people believe in life debts but I do not want you to feel that." He nodded back towards the Skadrad. "Your mission is more important than me finding Iballat is all."

Inara shrugged, "We all feel how we must." She glanced around herself and noticed all the people bustling to and fro. Some strolled leisurely while others held a purposefulness in their struts. They were completely foreign and yet Inara could could see familiarity wherever she looked. These were people, whether magic-less or with magic of their own, and though she didn't know the reason why Vi needed to find this man, she had to agree nonetheless that her mission was of utmost importance.

"The Skadrad is docked for an hour. If I can help you, I will… and besides, if the man you seek is not here, will you not need transport once more?" Inara smiled at Vi's curious look. "You speak many languages, don't you? Tell me what this land's native tongue is while we search for Iballat."

It seemed there was no deterring Inara, and so he continued on with the Sur by his side. They traveled up staircases chiseled from the cavern's rock that passed through buildings that carried ornate archways across paths. Vi knew where he was going. It wasn't the first time he'd been to this particular port.

"I am not sure if the Skadrad will go where I need to if Iballat is not here," he said. He stopped at the second tier thoughtfully as he tried to recall the direction he was headed. After a brief pause, he continued on down the street further into the cavern. The setting sun began to fade in light, and so the streets began to glow with orange lamp light.

"Their language is similar to Maldviri," he explained. "There are orcish and a bit elvish influences if you listen hard enough. Learning their speak has been easier for me than yours. Your elven language is...ah...lengthy."

Inara stuck close to Djavi's side as they traveled further into the cavernous skyport. The staircases were made out of the mountain itself and she couldn't help but wonder how many hands and how many years it took for them to be completed. Long strides and a quick step were needed to keep up with the foreigner and she had to routinely dip her head from taking in all the wondrous sights around her.

"It would be better to go somewhere than stay here?" Inara offered in reply, watching in awe as an orange glow began to illuminate the busy streets.

She listened carefully, stride still lengthened, as he talked about the language of these peoples. When he spoke of her own, she chuckled. "Lengthy? Perhaps if our paths stay crossed I can teach you the subtleties of mine and you can teach me the speak of your own."

"My language does not need as many words as yours," he explained as he turned into a shop. A little bell above the door chimed as he entered, and inside was what appeared to be a small library. Vi halted the conversation as he moved to the back of the store where a shae sat reading with half-mooned spectacles. The shae looked up from her book curiously at Vi, though said nothing. He spoke to her in another language, and she responded in kind, her bright eyes sparing a glance in Inara's direction.

The conversation escalated somewhat as Vi's tone turned a bit turse. The shae kept nodding her head in Inara's direction to which Vi would shake his head and continue on. But the shae eventually crossed her arms and turned her head away in a pout, pearlescent horns shimmering against the soft glow of the nearby lamplight. It was then Vi reluctantly turned towards Inara.

"She wants you to tell her what the Seed looks like," he said.

"How does she know…" Inara wondered aloud, taking a few steps forward before realizing she was doing so. The next two steps were hesitant, but the shae's horns reminded her so much of Shae Pippa's and a sense of familiarity washed through her, nullifying her wariness rather too quickly. She had stayed a respectful distance away from Djavi when they entered the building full of books, but now she traced Vi's footsteps and hovered near him as she addressed the shae.

"It's beautiful," she said softly, "It is covered with clover and moss and ensnared with roots… It pulses green like a heartbeat and the hope of the world. How did you know? Did the World Tree send you a vision as well?"

Djavi watched as Inara stepped closer, hesitant and curious with every right before she explained. He translated, the shae looking over to Vi, nodding her head ever so slightly. She, too, looked confused, as her furry brow pushed downward, and looked back at the Sur with a tilt of her goat-like head. As she spoke, Vi translated once again.

"She says everything magic is connected to the World Tree," Vi translated. "Or at least this one. She is not sure about the next. Shae have a deeper connection and sometimes sees things. Future things. But not all things are set in stone. She has seen your face before."

The shae rose from her seat and walked across the length of rug that spanned the room. She moved down an isle and plucked a tome from the shelf, bringing it back to the counter before flipping through its pages. Vi spoke to the shae once again in the foreign tongue, to which she responded and flicked her hand through the air as if to swat away a fly. Eventually, she found her desired page, and beckoned Inara over while pointing to a drawing of what looked to be the Seed of Life. The text around it was likely the foreign language in which she spoke, the letters jutting out uniformly.

"She wants to know if this is the Seed of Life," Vi translated once again.

"She has seen your face before."

The words sent ice up her spine and she glanced at Djavi with concern in her eyes. What did it mean, this foreign shae having seen her face in a vision from the World Tree? Did she really want to know? Inara watched hesitantly as the shae stood and with cloven hooves made her way down an aisle of shelved books and back again. Patiently, or as patiently as she could stand, Inara waited for her to find the page she wanted and leaned down eagerly when she was summoned to look.

"It looks like the Seed," Inara said with a nod, "Almost exactly like it... But how can that be? I-Is this World Tree n-not the first?" She looked at the shae expectantly, then realized her words were nothing more than garbled tongue until Vi translated. She turned her questioning eyes on Djavi, waiting for his translations.

The shae looked over intently at Vi as he translated, her brow furrowing more in confusion as she looked down at the page. She said something to Vi, her finger jabbing at the page opened in the book before Inara. Vi spoke back in return, almost as if they were arguing about something. He shook his head, and the shae shook hers even harder until he sighed.

"She says you'll need this book," Vi informed. "It has important information you'll need. But she says as far as she knows this World Tree is the first."

Inara watched the cantering of the foreign tongue with wide, unsettled eyes. They seemed to be arguing; over what Inara had no clue, so she bid her time staring at the page in front of her, trying desperately, to no avail, of deciphering the language that caressed the tome in front of her. Vi's warm husk of a voice pulled her from her own wandering mind and she looked up at him as he translated the shae's words. In an instant her cheeks reddened and her eyes were casted downwards.

"I have no coin," She said to the shae and Vi simultaneously. "The little I had was used on buying supplies on the Road to Lauderdine… Perhaps… Well, no, I doubt an hour would suffice, but how would I translate it, Vi? Once you find Iballat you'll be gone." A worried frown creased her forehead and she raised her eyes to the meet the shae's. "Why do you think this is important? And why does this tome have a rendering of the Seed of Life?"

"You don't have their currency anyway," Vi stated as he rummaged through his coin pouch. He spoke to the shae to translate Inara's inquiries as he laid out a set of coin pieces tied to a rope. The shae picked up the rope and slipped off a set as she answered, her tone now far calmer than before. She handed the coins back to Vi and pointed back to the page, and then turned another. Vi shook his head and mentioned Iballat again. He pauses a moment and then spoke again with a softer tone, to which the shae only rolled her eyes in response.

"I will help you read it," he assured. "She said Iballat will come find me. This tome is important because it outlines proper care. There are lots of tomes with drawings like this. It is not unique. We must go."

"Go?" Inara asked confusedly, "Where?" She plucked the tome from the counter after Djavi had paid for it and she looked at him curiously. Another thing she was indebted to him for. Shaking her head to clear it, Inara glanced back at the shae and waved farewell, knowing her words meant less than nothing to one who didn't share the same tongue.

"Are you sure Iballat will be able to find you? We still have more time to search, do we not?"

Inara asked of things she was readily able to. Her mind still wandered with what Vi had last translated: It outlines proper care... It is not unique. Had there been more Seeds spread throughout foreign lands? Or mayhaps the World Tree had almost died before? Inara clutched the book protectively to her chest, her mind a jumble from cryptic shae's, foreign tongues, and an aloof stranger she didn't want to be strangers with any longer.

---

Part One: A collab between @Effervescent and @rissa

 

[Effervescent]

---

Djavi Nam Abil

---

Vi headed out the door and began their journey up another tier. The Skadrad could still be seen just above the line of buildings where its top canvas peeked like a cloud. It looked rather large still, even at a distance, yet a far larger airship Slowe lay krept forward into the skyport, its engines humming and reverberating throughout the dome. It was almost enough to block out the street performers' tune upon stringed instruments and strange horns accompanied by the beat of a drum. Vi led them past the performers and the crowds that loitered or meandered.

"I am not sure if Iballat will find me now or later," Vi said to Inara. "But since we have enough time I wish to take the Garissen further into the mountains. Do you have your foreign papers?"

Back at home perhaps, she would have found it odd of herself to stick so close to another, especially one of the opposite sex. And yet here she was, clinging to Djavi's side like a mewling kit. Faces she could turn familiar, but she could hardly say the same for the exotic landscape, the manic-sounding beating of the drums, and the almost deafening roar of the largest airship she'd ever seen gliding into port. Vi was the only anchor she currently had to something known, to something familiar. She refused to let the fear show, but Inara had to admit she wasn't sure of her performance.

She clung to his voice like she would the trunk of tree. Inara listened without registering, at least until she shook her head and made herself focus. Iballat: now or later? Something about the Garissen into the mountains? And her foreign papers?

Tentatively, Inara clutched the tome in one hand and removed an almost-brittle piece of folded parchment from a hidden pocket in her vest. It was decades old and how her brother procured it, she would never know… at least if she didn't make it back to Emalnahar…

"Yes," Inara said finally, her voice subdued but her face a mask of determination. The new sights were frightening but it was an experience, a wonder unlike any she'd seen before. Perhaps a bit more wouldn't hurt. "Where to now, Vi?"

He hadn't expected her to have the papers, but it made things a lot easier to deal with on his end. Vi now no longer had to deal with Inara refusing to part ways. He led them to the Garissen Station; a glittering building nearly made completely of glass. Natural light was reflected in to dance upon the glass that spread bright colors upon its surroundings. It seemed to be a hub of activity as people converged on the location, and as Vi brought them to a line, he looked over at Inara.

"Bastillos is one of the most advanced cities in the world," he said. "A peace treaty and an alliance with the orcs centuries ago allowed the two to merge their minds and come up with some of the most advanced machines. The Garissen is one of those machines. It's the orcish word for 'big shell' or 'large container.' It is a system suspended on a rail that moves quickly through the tunnels. It allows people to get from one location to another quickly."

To their right, a series of containers shaped like large eggs slid out from a tunnel towards a platform. The outer shell was of brass that glistened with the refracted light of the glass station. Doors hissed open, and from within people exited the strange compartments.

As they neared the end of the line, they walked up to a counter where a woman sat in the uniform of what was likely a Bastillosi guard. She held out her hand to receive their papers quietly as Vi complied, and nodded to Inara to do the same as he spoke to the guard in their native tongue.

Handing the weathered parchment to the woman in uniform, Inara glanced up at Djavi for possible translations. Though her eyes were wide and settled upon him, they were ignited with wonder and awe, seeing past his form to gaze at the machines beyond.

---

Hal Midigan

---

He hadn't left his room like the others. Hal had told Wynleth he would be out, but as they docked and he dressed himself he became overwhelmed with panic. Across his side his skin had turned course and textured and darkened. His fingers gently traced over the strange anomaly. It had formed over a bruise, and as he studied his frame in the mirror he noticed more and more spots just like the other. It did not feel like skin in the slightest, yet it was connected to the flesh around it. He tried to cut away a piece on his arm which only caused him to bleed. It hurt like an ache where it protruded.

His first concern was Wynleth and their romantic interlude the previous night. He had never been with someone like that before, and so he was wildly unfamiliar with what can or should happen in the aftermath. Was this due to her being an elf and he a human? He slipped a long sleeved shirt over his frame to cover up his skin mostly out of embarrassment.

Hal's thoughts turned to the Shade that had attacked him. The Shadow Army was capable of many things, and he would be remiss to dismiss them. Was this the beginnings of Taint? Or was this something more sinister. Charlie did not seem keen to discuss his dealings with his Shade, but he couldn't help but wonder if maybe Charlie was dealing with something similar. This was unlike anything Hal had ever seen, and after much diliberation it was the only motivator for him to leave the Skadrad.

Traversing the unfamiliar streets was a challenge. He had a goal in mind, but no concept in how to achieve it. The language of Bastillos was unfamiliar, though on occasion he could catch a few orcish terms intermingled within their dialog. Hal wandered the streets looking through windows and at any hanging signs until he came across a store front that resembled what could be an apothecary.

A young woman moved up to greet him with a warm smile and spoke to him in her native language. Wrapped about her frame was a fabric of bright red and golden thread to accent a yellow dress beneath. She was far paler than anyone Hal had ever seen, almost as if she were without pigmentation.

"I'm sorry," Hal said to her, "I don't know your language. Can you understand me?"

"Allied Kingdoms?" she said. Hal nodded. "Yes, I know your language. Many of us here in Cadric learn it for trade, so don't feel bad about it. We know your country is a bit strange about outsiders. What can I do for you?"

"I, um, well I have this skin problem," Hal began sheepishly. He untucked his shirt to reveal the largest cluster of the skin anomaly, and the woman's eyes quickly widened.

"By the stars!" she said in amazement as she leaned in to look at it more closely. Hal felt his cheeks flush. "I've never seen anything like it. Have you been to a physician about this?"

"No," he replied. "I just noticed it not too long ago. Do you think it's contagious?"

"I've no idea," she said as she straightened her stance. Hal quickly tucked his shirt back in to hide away his embarrassment. "It looks rough. I can give you a topical treatment, if you'd like. Fish oil. Very good for the skin."

She walked around to a shelf, her finger hovering through the air as she looked over bottles and labels. Her slender hand snatched up a small bottle and handed it over to Hal with a smile.

"It has a bit of a smell," she said with a slight grimace. "You can put it on your food or just use it topically. What sort of currency do you have on you?"

"Ah, just coins from Baladur," he said. "Is that alright?"

"I think I know some orcs that can make a proper exchange," she said, and held out her palm to him. "It's…ah let me see. That'll be ten small pieces and a medium."

There was a brief moment where Hal wasn't even sure he had that much on him. It was a blessing she was willing to exchange with foreign currency, but he was barely able to scrap enough together for his initial journey to Thallas. Producing the small pouch of coins he pulled out the currency with reluctance as he saw the few pieces remaining. He gave the coin and she smiled brightly as she relinquished the small bottle of fish oil.

Something gripped his stomach in that moment, and he felt like he was being pulled down by an invisible force. His vision turned dark, and as he fell he saw the apothecary look around with fear in her eyes.

"What in the Elm!" she called out before kneeling down beside Hal. He still felt like he was being pulled and couldn't regain his bearings. "Sir! By the stars, what do I do?"

Little did she know, it was not just her quaint little shop that turned dark. The entire skyport suffered through a sudden, eerie dimness like an inverted fog that sifted through the streets. Screams echoed accompanied by the breaking of glass as only black trails streaked through the air.

The glass came from the station on the upper level. A mass of black, nondescript yet effervescent poured from the tunnels where the Garissen rail system snaked into the mountains. A man walked nonchalantly next to the mass as it filled the expanse of the station, his dark robes billowing from his frame like slow moving flames of black. Travelers rushed from the scene pushing past Inara and Vi. Vi grabbed Inara's wrist and pulled her behind a stone pillar away from the line of sight of the obvious Shadow intruder.

"We need to get back to the Skadrad and leave," he whispered to her. "Do you know where the Seed is?"

While the event had garnered attention outside, not all streets were afflicted despite the ominous fade of light. Most paused their errands to look down the streets for signs of the cause. A Shadow Caster flew through the air like a streak of black mass and landed on a street near Trynten and Tza'Hal. A gust of wind from her landing caused the hanging weaponry to clack together in the wake. The Caster had her back to them, head turning to look down another road before walking down it calmly.

"Iballat!" she called out.

Her voice would not carry where Charlie and Wynleth meandered. Where they stood, there was a bright flash of light where a man manifested before them with Hal. "Get to your ship!" he hissed to the trio. Hal seemed bewildered, eyes wide at having been transported in a ball of light. He felt over his chest and face as if the touch would affirm his existence, but even as he looked over at his friend's he still couldn't help but feel it was surreal.

He looked behind him at the man. He was a Maldviri judging by his appearance. His incredibly dark skin was accompanied by the traditional appearance of a Vindicator sans plate armor. His robes were beautifully crafted and ornamented with beads and gold thread. He motioned down towards the docks as if to shoo them away.

"They do not know you are here," he said. "The less they know the better."

@Red Thunder @rissa @Elle Joyner @CloudyBlueDay @Doctor Jax

 

[Elle Joyner]

[bg=#B8904D]

---

no-lightbox

Charlie was eager to venture into the port, especially to put the disheartening conversation with Wynleth in the back of his mind. "I should probably buy a new sweater," he murmured absentmindedly. "Mine kinda got burnt." He glanced back at Wyn, scratching his chin thoughtfully. "Are you gonna buy anything? I don't think I have too much coin.." He reached into a side pocket and pulled out a king chess piece carved from wood, and then underneath it was a coin pouch, though it held not much weight. Charlie let out a discontented huff as he put the chess piece back in the side pocket and nudged Wyn along. "I wonder where a clothing vendor is."

"I hadn't really planned on it, but I'm happy to help..." Looking through the crowd, Wyn smiled faintly. It was a spectacle, for sure... so much that she had never seen before, so much that she had never expected to see. It wasn't that her home was boring or uneventful, but this was like a whole new world, and not something she had ever anticipated getting the chance to explore. It was hard to focus on one thing at a time, through all the carts and vendors, calling out.

"Did you ever think we'd be here, Charlie? In a place like this? It's really sort of amazing, isn't it?"

The port was filled with many smells and sights, people shouting their advertisements all over the place. Charlie's gaze flitted to and fro, trying to focus on his goal whilst also trying not to get distracted by the sweet smell of what he assumed was some sort of baked goods. "It really is amazing. I don't know if I ever even dreamt of this." Charlie admitted, steeling himself against steering in the direction of the stand that held freshly baked bread. "That.. smells way too good." He said grumpily, but only because he knew he couldn't buy it. "Do you think someone would trade for a hand-made chess piece?" He said with a tiny laugh.

Chuckling, Wyn shrugged, "It's worth a shot... Though if you'd rather not lose your chess piece, you could probably see if they've got any more on board. What Hal brought me this morning was lovely. Would you just look at the size of those teacups... they're so tiny. Oh! Look... I think I see clothes up ahead!"

Hm. Well, he certainly didn't want to lose his chess piece, so he'd bank on the fact that there might be more food back on the ship. He briefly wondered why Hal would be bringing Wyn food before getting distracted by the miniscule teacups, lowering himself so he stood at eye-level with the shelf and squinting as if they held a secret. "They are pretty tiny." He mentioned, before perking up again at Wyn's mention of clothing.

It was a quaint little booth, with many types of clothing, of many different sizes. Charlie peered around with a small grin on his face until he came across a tightly woven sweater that seemed just his size. It looked well made and warm, enough to block out any frigid air and
comfy all the same. "This looks like it'd fit me," Charlie said happily, taking ahold of the sleeve and touching the fabric. From around the corner a small, hobbling woman appeared, back scrunched over, with a pointed nose and wrinkled face. She said something in a language he could not understand, and Charlie looked confused. "S-sorry, I don't understand." He said uncertainly.

A brow quirked at the exchange and looking to Charlie, Wyn shrugged, "Not a language I've heard, either... But maybe... Here. Hand me your coin purse."

Gesturing to the sweater, she looked to the woman, then the coin bag, "How much?" She tried, with a little emphasis.


The woman did not look particularly pleasant, and she moved closer to Wyn with a startlingly sharp movement that seemed beyond her age. She sniffed at the two, inspecting the coin pouch, and held up her hands to indicate a number of coins. Charlie took the pouch back from Wyn and opened it up, counting the coins carefully while the woman held out her palm expectantly. He wondered if he was paying a high price for this sweater or not, but the woman looked quite mean and he did not have enough confidence to haggle with her, especially in a language he couldn't understand. He tentatively dropped the coins in her hand and with a small tsk, she took the sweater, handed it to the young half-elf, and disappeared the way she had come.

"Huh." Charlie said, looking bewildered. "Well, I got the sweater."

Startling as it was, it wasn't without some amusement and Wyn found herself between shock and laughter at the woman's odd display. In the end, to their credit she supposed, Charlie had the sweater in hand, and for not too terrible a sum it seemed, "If my mother could see me, now..." She mused, before hooking an arm through Charlie's again, gesturing ahead, "This place... Seems to go on forever, doesn't it?"

Charlie threw the sweater over his head, pulling it past his nose and fitting his arms through the sleeves. It was a very cozy thing, and Charlie was quite happy with his purchase. He grinned at Wyn with their arms hooked together, nodding at her words. "I wonder how many more sweaters I could find," he mused. "Maybe sold by some nicer, not weird ladies." Charlie glanced around. This place had such a bustling atmosphere, one he was not used too but appreciated dearly. He wished they could stay here about longer. "Maybe we should--"

However, he did not get to finish his thought as a darkness loomed over the port and suddenly there were screams. Chaos, just as it had been in Lauderdine. Had it followed them? The arm that had been intertwined with hers fell away out of pure horror and shock, only to have it tighten on his bag in which the Seed was held. No, he couldn't do this again. He didn't want to do this again.

They hadn't gotten far. Between the two of them, everything was so new and exotic, and it was likely the only time they would ever encounter such a place that with every step there was something to explore. Charlie had wanted a sweater… It seemed such an innocent task that nothing could possibly go wrong…

It happened so fast. One moment, she had been chatting quietly with Charlie about miniscule teacups and fresh bread, the next, the skyport had taken on a terrible fog of darkness. There was no sense in questioning it, no sense in avoiding the obvious… The respite was over. They had been found. Spinning to the half elf, she grasped his arm, eyes wide and alert, "Do you have it on you??"

Her attention shifted to his bag and she frowned, but before she could speak there was a flash of brightness a few feet from where they stood. Twisting, Wyn angled herself in front of Charlie, pulling free her brother's blade from its scabbard. As her eyes adjusted from the startling illumination, however, there was a familiar face standing before her.

"Hal! What's…" The man behind Hal spoke, and jamming the sword back into its sheath, Wyn nodded. Rounding on Charlie, she grabbed his hand, giving him a tug towards their berth.

There was little time to discuss what was happening, little room for a plan. Protecting the Seed was their highest priority, and that meant getting Charlie back, getting him hidden. It was Lauderdine all over again… the fear, the uncertainty. Their other companions, lost in the fray. Too much to lose, too many possibilities. She thought of Hal.. of their night together, and the words they had shared that morning. The very notion of losing him stole the air from her lungs.

As they neared the dock and the Skadrad came to view, she released Charlie's arm and looked back to Hal, "Get below deck… I'll stay here and guard the ship, until the others arrive. Whatever happens, they must not get the Seed! Be safe… both of you!"

Pausing at the gangplank, she turned and caught Hal's hand, meeting his gaze with a sudden fierceness. Chest tightening, she opened her mouth, but the trio of unspoken words, too precious to utter in haste, stayed captured behind her eyes. Giving his hand a squeeze, she gestured to the airship, "Go…"

---

Collab with @CloudyBlueDay || @Effervescent

[/bg]

 

[CloudyBlueDay]

CHARLIE REDDEMAN​

"Do you have it on you??"

He nodded frantically, wondering if it was a good or a bad thing in Wyn's eyes. He was scared out of his mind and he could already feel his hands trembling, but his grip on his bag was so tight it helped to calm himself. They'd gotten out of this once and they could do it again. Right?

There was a brilliant flash of light and Charlie's breath hitched in his throat. He reached for the knife that Tza had reshaped but Wyn was already standing protectively in front of him. But he light turned into a strange man and Hal, and Charlie blinked uncertainly. The man of dark skin spoke words of instruction, but Charlie opened his mouth to protest. "Wait, how can we tr-- ack!" Wyn had grabbed his wrist before he could finish his sentence and yanked him towards the two.

There was already a plan. Charlie and Hal would go below deck, protecting the Seed, and Wyn would stay out, on guard. But Charlie didn't want to go below deck. He didn't want to hide, not again. Holding the bag in his hands, he took a deep breath and looked back towards Wyn and Hal, who seemed to be sharing something that looked like a goodbye. Why? It wasn't goodbye. It couldn't be. Not yet.

"Hal," Charlie said tentatively, pulling off the bag from his shoulder and taking a long look at it before passing it over to the Baladur. "I'm.. I'm not the Seed. You guys don't have to protect me, protect it. I want to go find the others." He sucked in a breath and nodded at them, sparring an unsure glance at the Maldivir. "I, uh.. I'll be back." There was a hint of a smile on his face, almost a sad one. Charlie bolted off into the distance. Any protests from his companions fell on deaf ears. He would not change his mind.

In just a few moments the port was nothing like it had just been. It was abandoned, left in a terrified hurry. He could practically smell the panic, it clung to the air stronger than that wonderful baked bread smell. Speaking of, he'd passed the stand that held such goods; it was deserted.

"Tza?" He shouted out. "Inara? Tryn!" He was desperate, for any one of them to respond to his shouts. Without his bag he felt strangely light, perhaps because of the amount of pressure carrying the Seed gave him. "Anyone?" He called, his voice weaker, slowing to a stop. He had run quite far into the port, and looking behind him, he wasn't even sure that he knew the way back to the ship. Oh no.

@Elle Joyner @Effervescent

 

[Red Thunder]

Overshadowed
a collab by @Doctor Jax and @Red Thunder ​

Screaming filled the air, the voices of numerous citizens and visitors a cacophony within their stone surroundings. The black roiling mass was itself a terror unseen, beyond any association made to the Shadow encroaching on the world. And not everyone made that connection or knew of it. But to those who did, a more absolute fear gripped them. And some found themselves frozen.

Tryn's halting gait had arrested at the rising chaos, but when the Shadow Caster made landfall like a veritable plague ship, he found himself rooted to his spot. For an eternity he stared at the back of her head, hoping and praying that her eyes did not find them. That they might not stand out in the crowd. The nearby weapons chimed in disharmony at the strong winds, but he could not look away. His waist felt light, absent of any tool for his defense. He was powerless, alone, prey-

Suddenly the Shadow Caster turned down a street, disappearing from view past the stone walls. The fear dissipated immediately, and Tryn nearly collapsed. Catching his balance, the man glanced to Tza.

"The ship. Hurry. We have to leave."

Tza'Hal stood there, nevertheless, watching after where the Shadowcaster had turned and left. Her mind processed her options, as Tryn's voice seemed to echo in her ears slowly.

Tza'Hal, Tza'Hal, you know better. You've no right to fighting that Caster. Tryn is in no shape to defend or fight, never mind his beastly issues. Let live, an insistent voice said, and Tza snorted hard. It had always been difficult for her to pass up conflict, but thank goodness all those hours of meditation seemed to be working to combat it.

"Right," she agreed, turning on a heel and limping, her arm at Tryn's back as she led them back to the ship with a distinct hobble.

It made him more than a little uncomfortable, shuffling through the streets in wary fear with Tza's hand on his back. His entire adult life, up until his involvement with the Seed, had been one of self-reliance. Thus far he'd certainly felt the camaraderie of the others, Inara most especially, and he'd felt little weakness for it. But now, guided along like a child by an already hobbled friend, perhaps just as battered as he, was a blow to his pride that he couldn't adequately articulate. Feeling put out, Tryn urged his body ahead, pushing his legs and core to move with more speed than they in all likelihood should have been expected to in their condition.

The streets were hauntingly empty. Citizens had fled, either removing themselves from the area entirely or retreating to the perceived safety of their homes. And yet, their stores and stalls stood as they had been, wares abandoned in favor of the lives of their owners. The weaponry that hung from the nearest stalls still rattled and chimed in the wind, as if warning of a doom inevitable. Tryn eyed a nearby sword as they passed, hungry for something to put between himself and any attacker.

He didn't think twice. Without even considering what his companion might think of him for the deed, Tryn darted to his right, yanking a long sword of what seemed to be decent make and it's sheath from where they hung. He wore no sword belt, so he merely held onto the leather covering, hoping against hope that he wouldn't have cause to draw it. Catching back up, he nodded to Tza. The effort sent small pains streaking through him, and his left arm he cradled against his chest.

"Come," he commanded, breathless from the exertion, as he turned a corner. "The Skadrad is this way."

The orc scanned ahead, irked by the sudden lack of crowds. Spineless folk -- they would rather run, hide, and abandon their precious town to Shadowcasters than attempt to face them. Well, if that was the case, perhaps they did not deserve a skyport like Cabric, if they could not make use of their wits and defend it. Nevertheless, she could not help but feel very exposed without cover, the streets shockingly quiet.

Tza had quickly pulled ahead of Tryn, and it was only after noticing he was not immediately next to her did she turn around to see him snatch a sword off a table, the same stall from which she'd bought her staff. She gave a gruff 'hmph' of assent. Well, good -- they needed the weapons, and if these shopkeepers weren't about to keep hold of their goods in a disaster, that was their fault.

She still felt a twinge of guilt -- the Order frowned upon stealing of any kind, as it did not bode well for 'reputation -- but these were not normal times. The shopkeepers were losing merely a piece of steel. They might lose their lives without it.

"Good blade. You have an eye for steel," Tza muttered as she kept up with his hurried pace, her eyes tracking to the Skadrad. Funny -- it hadn't seemed so far away before the Casters showed up.

Tryn spared her a glance, dipping his head in acknowledgement. But there was no breath in him to spare in gratitude. No strength to sacrifice for niceties; he'd have to ask her from whence she got her knowledge of blades later. But for now he walked with purpose, as quickly as he might, and checking every so often that Tza remained with him.

He didn't remember Lauderdine. His...friends, he guessed, for what else could he call those who had refused to abandon him to the Shadow Casters, were perfectly and fearfully cognizant of what had occurred. He was not, and while it might haunt them the rest of their days, it was a connection he would never share with them. And in a strange way, he felt sad about the fact.

It was then with a odd sense of joy, if perhaps muted by the terror of the situation, that Tryn found himself on the street running for safety. For he was with a friend, and though he most certainly wanted Tza safe and would do anything to ensure it, it was to him a point of connection. And as such was something that he'd not felt from anyone save Inara and Azzara since his childhood.

As they made their way through the street, Tryn would habitually glance down adjacent streets, assuring himself each time that it was safe to proceed. It was with a certain amount of trepidation, then, that he grabbed Tza's arm, grip tight in fear. Down the street perpendicular to the one on which they ran was a lone figure. It was difficult to determine any details of the individual, or at least to Tryn. The figure stood beside several bread stalls; the smell, otherwise enticing, emanated from them. It was looking about erratically, as if seeking something, and Tryn, pressing himself against the stone wall nearest him, glanced at Tza.

"Shadow Caster?" he whispered. "Should we engage?"

Tza gave Tryn a rather shocked and indignant look at being grabbed -- a light touch would have sufficed -- she nevertheless looked in the direction he was staring at, and her gaze darkened.

At his question, she merely shook her head, looking around hastily. They needed to get past this street, but she did not take a fancy at attempting to cross while the Caster was actively looking for them. She saw to her left a large, heavy vase amidst several others for sale, and she took it in hand, weighing it for a moment.

With a great overhand throw, she hurled it into the air, and it flew in a great arc towards an alley down the street the Caster was looking through. It crashed into an alley with a great clamor, taking some of a stall with it.

"Go," she said urgently in a low voice.

@CloudyBlueDay (Charlie better duck!)

 

[CloudyBlueDay]

CHARLIE REDDEMAN​

What if he couldn't find them? What if the shadow had already taken them, hurt them, killed them? He had begun to panic; Charie hardly even remembered the way back to the ship, what if Hal and Wyn were being attacked on the ship too? Suddenly his heart was in his stomach. What if he'd done he wrong thing by abandoning them? By abaonding the Seed? A dull sense of realization struck him; he'd abandoned the Seed. And maybe even his friends too, by running off like that in pursuit of them. He didn't even know where they were. That was stupid. He was so stupid.

He was going to cry out for them once more when he could feel the air in front of him change, and he swore he saw someone moving about. Charlie squinted through the suddenly dense fog, when there was a crash just to the side of him, like pottery breaking. His eyes became wide with alert as he let out a scream, sure that it was the Shadow Casters trying to hit him and expecting another one. Facing where the vase had come from, Charlie let out a panicked blast of fire from both palms, terrified that they were coming after him. He tried to pull himself together, stumbling backwards. What if they hit him with another shade? He couldn't deal with another Shade. Azzara wasn't even here to pull it out. He didn't want to die. He didn't want to die.

What would Tza do? What would she say to him, how would she urge him on? There would be no running.. he didn't know where to run too. He would fight. That was what he came out here to do. He would fight.

Charlie sucked in a breath and suddenly sprinted in the direction the vase had come, letting out a cry and then barreling into the first figure he saw, shoving them both to the ground. Landing on top of the person, he raised his hand and aimed to begin mashing in their face, his fist encased in fire. And that was when he realized he sat atop of Tza'Hal herself. And with a glance to the side, Trynten stood as well. The color drained from his face, though there had not been much to begin with. The fire encasing his closed fist disappeared; he had almost smashed Tza's face in.

He scrambled off of Tza, panting as he stared at the two incredulously. "You... you threw the pottery thing?" He gasped, exasperated. "Why'd you throw something at me?" He whined.

@Red Thunder @Doctor Jax @Effervescent

 

[Red Thunder]

The Good, the Bad, and the Angsty
a collab between @CloudyBlueDay and @Red Thunder ​

Almost as soon as Tza threw the vase, the figure had spun at it, throwing fire toward the offending noise. Fire... Maybe it wasn't a Shadow Caster then! Admittedly, Tryn was ignorant of such things, but he'd certainly never heard of someone casting both fire and shadow. They might be an ally; it was worth investigating. Gripping his sword hilt, Tryn cleared his throat.

"Hel-"

But the figure was already turning, and before he knew it Tza had been knocked down, pinned by- CHARLIE?!

***​

Finally, Inara had left the room where Trynten slept. He'd waited a while to go and see the man, but Charlie hadn't quite found the chance. He didn't want to ask Inara to leave, and he really didn't want to intrude, so he decided to wait her out.

Charlie slipped into the room. He wasn't sure why he so desperately wanted a chance to talk with Tryn, but he had certainly wanted to know how he was feeling after having his face burnt back together by Charlie's own knife. The thought sent a shiver down his spine, but Charlie needed to see it.

"Trynten..?" Charlie murmured as he closed the door behind him, checking to see if the man was awake.

The latch clicked, despite Charlie's best efforts, and Tryn opened his eyes, the journey to sweet unconsciousness postponed for a while. He almost looked up toward the boy's face, his weariness having reduced his wariness by no small margin. At the last moment he realized what he was doing and diverted his eyes downwards instead, noting the young man's booted feet.

Gritting his teeth, Tryn pushed himself up to sitting. He smiled, best as he might through the perpetual grimace his wounds demanded, trying his best to hide a sliver of disappointment. But it was a stupid feeling, and he knew it; Inara could hardly be expected to linger in his temporary room. She had needs of her own.

"Charlie?" Tryn muttered, his chest catching with the combined effort of sitting and speaking. He hissed through his teeth, wincing. "Hi there."

"N-no no no! Don't get up!"

Now giving up on trying to be stealthy and silent, Charlie rushed to Tryn's side to try and usher him to lay back down. "I'm -- I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to disturb you, I just --" Charlie rubbed the back of his head nervously. "Please, don't stress yourself at all to speak to me. If you want, I can leave." Charlie murmured.

"I just wanted to see how you were doing." He felt terrible to make Tryn strain himself any further, especially after all of them had worked so hard to keep him alive. It made his gut twist to see how hard it was for the man to simply try and sit up, though he did seem to be better than before. I shouldn't have come. I should've let him rest. Charlie cursed at himself silently, brows furrowed as he inched towards the door again.

Tryn smiled at the young man's earnestness.

"Thank you for your concern," he sighed, having pushed himself up enough to rest against the bed's headboard. He waved Charlie's worry away. "The doctor they have here on board is quite adept, it seems; I've been patched up well and should be able to get up within the next few days."

His speech slurred somewhat, the wounds that gave him the grimace also preventing free movement of his lips. They would adapt, Tryn was sure, but for now his cadence was marginally chipped and halting. But it could have far worse. A memory of chill numbness swam to conscious thought with his visitor's anxious words, as well as that of a bright light flowing to and from his eyes. His left arm moved, or it began to. The strain of pushing him up had been too much, and pain lanced up his arm whenever he moved it. So his right arm lifted to touch the lines of red across his visage.

"It was also mentioned that I might have died, where it not for the quick work of my friends. I don't doubt you played a part in that. Thanks, Charlie." Tryn hesitated, brow furrowed in consideration. His dull locks waved back and forth as he shook his head. "Or is it 'Charles'? I don't understand why people call you 'Charlie'; now that I actually speak to you in more than passing, you seem like a 'Charles' to me."

Charlie's lips curved into a small smile. He was happy to hear that Tryn would indeed heal, and was in the care of someone more adept than their group was, though they did seem to have done some good. Tryn's words were not sharp, but Charlie hadn't expected much better for the gashes the man had. He pretended not to notice. Still, it seemed every move Trynten made to position himself pained the man, and Charlie hated to watch that.

At the mention of the name "Charles", the young half-elf seemed to tense, suddenly very uncomfortable. Charles was a name Charlie only knew when Lannya was mad at him, very mad. How he had come across the name wasn't very clear -- he had never quite felt like a Charles, and he thought Charlie had always suited him much better.

"..W-well.. I .. I suppose I might.. I mean, Charles is my full name and all, but.. no one really ever called me that unless they were angry with me." His cheeks were red and he seemed very timid now that the topic had risen. Did he look more like a Charles? "I always thought that Charlie fit me better." He said with a little shrug. "I guess whatever you'd like to call me is fine." Truly, he would much rather Charlie, but had no intentions of arguing with Tryn in this time.

The poor lad. Tryn hadn't meant to fluster him so badly, or indeed at all. Shrugging, he waved dismissively.

"I'll call you whatever you like. Charlie is just fine."

With a sigh, he leaned his head back against the rough wood. As he did, the ship shook, no doubt pushed by a wayward gust. It was brief, no more than a few seconds, but Tryn squeezed his eyes tightly. It wasn't enough that he was a liability; as far as he wa concerned, this entire method of travel was.

When it had passed, the woodsman opened his eyes and turned them to Charlie. He opened his mouth, questions on his mind, but he thought better of it and closed it again, choosing instead to stare at the wall across from his bed. Toward the only thing keeping out the unending sky.

A small breath of relief escaped the boy when Tryn agreed to call him by the name he most preferred. He said nothing, only gave a small nod, the slightest twinge of a smile on his face.

At the shaking of the ship, Charlie gasped and whipped his head around nervously, clutching the straps of his bag tightly, expecting this to be some sort of attack. But the turbulence ended quickly and Charlie relaxed once more. It had just been some sort of gust of wind. No big deal. He released his grip on the bag that held the Seed, biting his lip.

"Do you.. remember anything, Tryn?" Charlie wasn't sure if that was the right question to ask at this time but he wasn't even sure how Tryn had gotten those wounds. Maybe it was the Tainted that had harmed him?

"Not really." Tryn continued staring at the wall, his eyes focused on events that weren't present. But he still smiled. "And judging by the lines on my face and the expression on yours, nevermind everyone else's, I don't mind that."

He chuckled softly, but his eyes betrayed the laughter; there wasn't any mirth there, and more was on his mind than he spoke of. But after a few seconds he shook his head to clear it; Lauderdine was recent enough. Discussing it was aggravating wounds still fresh, and they needed a change of topic. If the way he held that bag was any indication, Charlie needed one.

"Where are you from, Charlie?" Tryn glanced his way, trying to get a bead on the lad with a quick glance.

"Not really." Tryn continued staring at the wall, his eyes focused on events that weren't present. But he still smiled. "And judging by the lines on my face and the expression on yours, nevermind everyone else's, I don't mind that."

He chuckled softly, but his eyes betrayed the laughter; there wasn't any mirth there, and more was on his mind than he spoke of. But after a few seconds he shook his head to clear it; Lauderdine was recent enough. Discussing it was aggravating wounds still fresh, and they needed a change of topic. If the way he held that bag was any indication, Charlie needed one.

"Where are you from, Charlie?" Tryn glanced his way, trying to get a bead on the lad with a quick glance.

Tryn was probably right. Perhaps not remembering was best. Charlie sure would have liked not to remember such things as the Shade's images, or Lauderdine, but he had not been blessed with the same fate. Charlie looked up at Tryn's face, the gashes red and bothered. Well.. he was glad he didn't have that.

"Eversyth," He said slowly. "A home for half elves. Never left it before now." Charlie admitted shyly, not wanting to seem weak in front of Tryn. He looked like a traveler, at least someone who had seen and withstood a lot. "What about you?"

"I lived in the woods just north of there, actually." Tryn's eyes had lit up at Charlie's account, and he smiled. "I traded in furs and pelts in north Eversyth on occasion. Never went into the city itself. For...obvious reasons."

He paused, considering the young man's words, before patting his shoulder encouragingly.

"Life is what it is. Don't feel bad about a lack of travel; some people would envy your situation. Home is oft under appreciated. Until it's unavailable..."

Charlie's eyes widened a little, his expression giving away his bit of excitement at the fact that Tryn had lived near by. Charlie gave off a huff of a laugh at the pat on his shoulder. "You know, I didn't think it would, but this airship feels a bit homey too." He smiled. "My room here reminds me of my own room. And it's.. peaceful here. More peaceful than I've felt since I started this whole thing. Being hit with a Shade right off the bat doesn't do anyone much good in terms of feeling safe." He muttered, gaze falling to the ground before suddenly looking back up at Tryn. Tryn hadn't even known that Charlie had been attacked by the shadow, and he couldn't kept it that way. Darn it. "What.. uh.. what did you guys.. encounter..? You and Inara?"

Tryn's brow furrowed. What had they encountered? He supposed Charlie meant during their travel to Lauderdine. It was likely his own parallel journey to which the young man referred when he mentioned the Shade. A Shade...Tryn wasn't entirely sure what that was, but it sounded like Shadow Magic. And that was never a good thing.

"On the road? Oh, a few bandits. A couple- wolves. Nothing we couldn't handle." Charlie seemed rather shaken up by his own experience with the Shade; there was no need to frighten him with tales of multiple Tainted. "Besides, we can take care of ourselves, right? Guess you saw that back at Lauderdine."

His left arm was itching again. The wound, though treated, still bothered the woodsman, and he stretched at it absentmindedly. The thought of Lauderdine was a sombering one. Theresia had given him an answer, a way out, from his curse. And the one to help him was with them. But now... He thought of Azzara, his fuzzy memory recalling her running back outside for unknown reasons. But she never returned. And with her left any chance of cleanliness.

Yet he still had one hope: that he might like Theresia learn to control it.

"And you can apparently take care of yourself. And your...bag." Tryn gestured to it with his left hand, his right still scratching at the wound subconsciously. "What's in it? You're rather possessive of it."

It pleased Charlie to hear that Tryn sounded confident of their side of the journey. It was comforting to think that Tryn and Inara had a swift time, bashing in a few bandits and wolves, having not much trouble at all. Though a part of him were sure this was not the case, he decided not to dwell on it.

"I didn't see you much at all in Lauderdine, truthfully, but I know you're here and safe now." Charlie said with a kind smile, one that really seemed to portray the innocence of a child.

At the mention of his bag, Charlie let out a huff and clutched it tightly once more. With a grumble, he spoke, "Hal told me to be discreet, but I .. I guess I'm not doing a very good job of it." He made a mental note to be a little bit more cautious. Tryn was okay to know what he held though, right? He was a part of their Seed saving team.

"It's the Seed of Life." Charlie said, tone low and quiet. He glanced around the room nervously, trying to make sure that they were safe and alone. "Do you want to see it?"

Tryn's eyes widened, wonder pushing aside his lids in favor of a full view of the very object of all their struggles.

"I...I would! Didn't realize you had gotten it, though I guess I should have."

Sudden excitement erupted within him, and despite the injuries and pain, he pushed himself up yet farther to a more upright sitting position.

Charlie grinned, Tryn's own excitement making the half elf excited too. Pulling up his bag and setting it on the bed, he pulled open the flap and brought out the Seed. It was not as cold as it had been since Theresia had handed it to him. Charlie had certainly done a good job of keeping it warm, with carrying it constantly and sleeping with it under the crook of his arm. He held it in his arms momentarily before placing it in Tryn's lap, in a similar fashion as Hal had done to Charlie when they first found it.

Charlie looked back at Tryn's face, waiting to see his reaction.

That reaction was one of hesitant awe. With a brief glance at Charlie, as if making sure he had permission, Tryn peered down at the seed. The Seed, the hope of the world. Slowly, he placed a hand upon the stone like surface. It was...remarkably unremarkable, to his perception. Oddly, uniquely shaped, certainly, with traces of moss across its dull surface, but apart from a strange warmness that could likely be explained by the half elf's devoted coddling, it might have passed for any other rock. The comprehension floored the man, that something so ordinary was expressly so extraordinary.

Handing it make with the care he might have given a brittle egg, Tryn whispered to Charlie, "I don't know what to say."

Charlie rather enjoyed seeing Tryn's face of wonderment. It seemed to take a while, and strung did look partially confused, but Charlie supposed that was just how Tryn showed his excitement. At his whisper, Charlie tilted his head and giggled. "Honestly, me either." He said happily. Charlie didn't seem to think that there was anything unremarkable about it. This was the Seed; its appearance did not make him second guess it. He knew he was carrying the world in his satchel bag, and somehow it felt right. Although terrifying.

"I think we're going to do it, Tryn." Charlie said, gently placing the Seed in his bag. His voice was firm but his gaze was somewhere else; Charlie truly believed in every word he spoke. "I think we're going to save the World Tree and stop the Shadow."

The corner of Tryn's mouth turned up in hesitant smile. Charlie's enthusiasm was understandable, especially if he'd seen as little of the world as he claimed. For his own part, the older man took a far more cynical view of life; Tryn wasn't nearly so hopeful. But he wasn't about to rain on the poor boy's parade.

"I hope so, Charlie. I hope so."

***​

"Hey! Stop!"

Letting go of the sword, Tryn made to grab the boy's flame tipped arm, but Charlie had already scrambled off, apparently recognizing the pair. Bending down, he helped Tza back to her feet but remained silent, waiting for Tza to explain the sudden airborne pottery.

@CloudyBlueDay @Doctor Jax

 

[Doctor Jax]

Tza'HalXXXXXX
Lumin of the Order of the Lynx

To be true, Tza'Hal's teachers had always chided her on her hastiness. She was always known, even in youth, for taking the most direct, often most difficult, route possible in doing something, and her mother and father had had to chastise her endlessly for not taking the time to notice her surroundings before doing...whatever it was she was supposed to be doing, whether catching butterflies in a jar (which was how she broke her arm, dangling off a wall) or mopping the floor (and breaking almost every pot on the counter with her flying handle). Even into adulthood, she'd been often hasty, easy to get frustrated, and remorselessly practical.

One would think that years and years of learning patience would give her the ability to pause, take stock of the situation, and reflect would have given her some insight, but alas, in the midst of the chase, old habits died hard.

In her bid to distract the 'Caster', she had not taken the time to realize that, despite the acquisition of a new sweater, Charlie had too slight and delicate a frame to be considered anything but a stripling half-elf. It was only after her sudden dash towards the ship that she saw the burst of flames, the charging elf, and then toppling to the ground as he came at her with a rush.

She stared at Charlie, frankly perplexed, before Charlie realized who it was and got off the older orc, Trynten rushing to his side to assist. And, very suddenly, Tza'Hal began to snicker and giggle as she sat up. The waterfall of giggles turned to laughter as she shook her head and rubbed her face, waving her hands at her tearing eyes.

"I had-had thought you were -- gods help me, pahahaha. You're.... Oh, Charlie. It is a good thing I was not aiming for you. I apologize, I thought you were a Caster. The-the sweater..." She gestured to him with a hand as she got up with the aid of her staff, still trying to hold it together. Charlie, a Caster... She could only think of him as wearing a black robe with a scowl -- can Charlie even scowl? -- on his face, trying his hardest to look menacing while holding some fluffy animal, a kitten perhaps, or a bunny rabbit. The mental visual was too much, and another round of snickers made her double over for a moment. "Forgive me. I shouldn't be laughing. The Skadrad won't wait forever..."

Though there was still a slight smile on her face as she brushed off Charlie's sweater.

"It looks nice, by the way," Tza'Hal said simply. "Glad you're safe. Come. We should go. We can talk later."
\
@CloudyBlueDay @Red Thunder

 

[rissa]

---

GET TO THE SKADRADCHOPPPPAA

---

A collaboration between @Effervescent and @rissa

With her heart racing its way up her throat and her fraying nerves unraveling evermore, Inara glanced around just as Vi snatched her wrist and pulled her behind a large stone pillar. She'd only caught a glimpse and yet she didn't need a second look to confirm Shadow Casters were about. Memories of Lauderdine flashed through her mind's eye; Theresia, the azure wards, the wyverns, the doomed citizens, the Naveri…

She stared at Djavi as he spoke, eyes wide and unblinking. It took a moment for his words to filter through and when they did, she received them with only a sliver of suspicion.

"On the airship, with Charlie I suspect." Inara whispered back softly. "How are we going to get out of here… they'll see us if we try to escape."

She had a point, and with that Vi thought quickly. His attunement to both Arcane and his small practice with Inner Light allowed him to sense the rolling darkness as it meandered through the station. He could hear the broken glass crunching under a booted foot as the shards were ground into the smooth stone flooring with calm steps. The fractures jingled and clinked together as the mass of Shadow Magic slid over the surface and clouded much of his perception.

"Ill cast a ward around you," he answered softly. "The light of my magic may alert them, but the ward will make you invisible long enough to get out of the station. They won't see you. Get back to the Skadrad and tell them to take off."

"No." Inara replied firmly. "We go back to the Skadrad together. I need you after all," she said, glancing at the tome under her arm. "The Maker crossed our paths for a reason and you're the only one who can translate this book. The information could be vital in our quest to save the world, Djavi. We need you... So let's figure a way out together."

He didn't like her stubbornness, but he wasn't about to take anymore time to argue the matter. The mass of Shadow Magic was only growing in the open space driving his senses mad. The Shadow Caster was lost within it like a fog making it difficult to know where he was headed without peeking behind the pillar. Vi looked behind them down the way for a suitable alternate route out.

"Do you know how to keep your steps light?" he asked her.

She would've scoffed if it hadn't been for the undulating mass of Shadow and the Caster hidden within. Unsure of how far away they might be, Inara made do with a quizzical raise of her brow and a look that followed insults.

"Of course I can." Inara whispered, if a bit indignantly.

Without delay, Vi began to walk quietly down the length of the open room passing by booth on one side and pillar on the other. He assumed Inara would follow, and the only reason why he occasionally looked behind him was to see if he could see the Shadow Caster at all in the station through the gaps in the pillars. The mass slowly fell smaller and smaller within what his Inner Light could perceive yet still masked the Shadow Caster well enough to cause him to practically be invisible.

He turned down a hallway to go deeper into the station. Vi hoped there would be a back route out, for he hadn't seen anyone flee the scene through the door ahead. And once they neared the door, they would find it securely locked. But this did not seem to bother him at all, and he looked to Inara.

"Open it with your magic," he said. "I see you are connected to Earth. It is just a metal lock."

"Just a metal lock?!" Inara hissed, her eyes scrutinizing Djavi like never before. "That's madness. I've never heard of such things."

But Inara knew they didn't have time and she glanced over her shoulder, half expecting the mass of Shadow to be behind her. Wiping a sweaty palm upon her leathers, she frowned at the lock, contemplating the nonchalance manner Vi had spoke in. Had he seen it done before? Or was he just joshing her? Inara side eyed Djavi, easily coming to the conclusion that that wasn't in his nature.

"Here," she said, pushing the tome into Djavi's arms. "If you've seen it done before, explain the process to me."

He took the tome in hand and furrowed his brow at her shift in demeanor. "I do not know the process," he said. He could sense the particular attunement within her through is Arcane, though he was not aware what he had witnessed long ago from another of her kind was not a common manipulation. "I'm not an Earth Caster."

The hall behind them wasn't long until it spilled out into the grand open spaces of the station. Vi looked behind them to insure they were still alone and unhindered, for they were exposed and trapped in a corner should Inara be unable to unlock the door.

"I know locks have mechanisms inside that the key maneuvers," he continued. "That is the extent of what I know. How to do it with your magic was never explained to me, and I never asked because it was not relevant to me."

Turning away from Djavi in frustration, Inara focused on the metal lock in front of her. She knew metal was created from a form of earth, so in essence, what Vi had just explained made sense... But she had never read of such things being possible…

Calling to her magic and searching with all her might on the minute traces of earth within the lock itself, Inara willed the mechanisms to move. It took a couple tries but she managed to seize hold of the traces of earth and moving pieces at random, Inara waited until she heard a tiny click and the lock popped open.

Inhaling deeply and wiping perspiration from her brow, she glanced at Djavi with a surprised but satisfied expression. Pocketing the lock for further experimentation, she retrieved the tome from Vi and nodded him forward.

"Any idea what's in there?" Inara asked softly, heart still thundering in her chest.

He gave her a short nod of his head as she took back the tome. Vi didn't fight it, nor did he protest in Inara taking the lock she did not own. A lock was hardly an important item, for they would surely have replacements, but it would most definitely serve the Earth Caster well in self training. Opening the door slowly so as to avoid any deep creaking, Vi shrugged in response before stepping into the hallway.

It was another simple hall carved from the stone that comprised the cavern. Sconces held flickering torchlight intermingled with a brightness coming from windows built within the ceiling. It almost looked like the sun was shining in from above. They passed by a few doors on the left, but then came by another hall to the right. Down the way a door to the outside was open. They could see the strange thick blackness seeping into the space from outside.

"We are going to run," Vi said as he looked back at Inara. He was calm, but there was an earnest tone within the subtleties of his expression as he spoke to her quietly. "We head straight for the Skadrad without stopping. Stop for no one, do you understand? These Casters are powerful. I have encountered them before years ago. Are you ready?"

Bastillos was full of artisans, Inara surmised as the door released the way into another cavern hall. The designs were simpler here, yet none lacked in quality, and they were all highlighted by dancing firelight and rays from above. Clutching the tome to her chest tightly, Inara glanced upwards and marveled at the shafts that had been carved from the ceiling.

As they walked, all the doors to the left were shut and most likely locked, though she didn't spare the time to check. She followed in Vi's wake on silent feet and noticed, just as sure as he did, the inky blackness crawling inside the hall from an open door down another hall. Her heart increased it's thrumming and she bit the inside of her cheek to focus on what Djavi was saying.

"Lead the way," Inara replied in a scratchy voice. "And tell me later how you met these Casters. They don't seem to be the ones from Lauderdine..."

He made no promises as he moved down the hallway and into the sifting dark fog. It felt dense like vapors, and the light within the port was muted just enough to keep the line of sight minimal without making it a true Darkness. Vi felt his heart pounding in his chest as if it would lurch from the confines of his ribs.

This was the only time Vi looked behind him to make sure Inara was following as she should. They were running without knowing fully what was up ahead. Silhouettes of strangers turned to Bastillosi and orc to relieve the tension of unknowing only to quickly turn tense once again with uncertainty. Vi had been to Cabric before, and he knew the streets well enough to recount the steps back to the docks where the Skadrad was located.

There was laughter up ahead, strange yet carrying a tone somewhat familiar, though not familiar in its merriment. Voices in the dark, though not a threat in the slightest, for as they rushed down the street they were met with the faces of their comrades. A burst of light emitted somewhere on the lower tier of the skyport, and from where they were on the street the light could barely be seen above the tops of the buildings.

He could feel it; a fight between Shadow and Inner Light. They dueled close by, and the signature grew closer. Vi skid to a halt before Tza'Hal, Trynten, and Charlie, taking only a moment to catch his breath before addressing them all and insuring Inara met up with them.

"Get to the Skadrad," Vi hissed. He had no intention of following after them. He was sure Iballat was the one he felt just the other way.

The going was terrible, though thankfully they hadn't run into any Shadow Casters. Inara kept up with Djavi's pace on lithe feet, hugging the tome to her chest as she ran. It seemed only a moment later when he skidded to a halt, right in front of Charlie, Tryn, and Tza'Hal. Surprise mingled on her face, along with a sense of comfortability.

But as Inara turned and glanced at Djavi as he spoke, she knew he had no intentions of following them to Skadrad. The thought made her worry, in more ways than one. They needed him to translate the book. But he needed to find Iballat…

Inara turned to her three companions; Tryn and Tza'Hal were both injured, if on the mend, and Charlie was still a novice with his magic if somewhat competent with it. With a sigh she nodded her head at Djavi, and motioned towards the trio.

"We must leave at once. Do any of you know the way back to the airship?"

---

@Effervescent @Red Thunder @CloudyBlueDay @Doctor Jax

 

[Red Thunder]

Trynten Lothorsen
​

Tryn grunted in affirmation, recovering from his twofold surprise. What strangeness was this, that not only should he and Tza happen upon Charlie, but that Inara and Vi should find them moments later! It was odd. Convenient. If not for his joy at seeing Inara again, the fear that they were now this much easier to hunt down might have threatened to overwhelm him.

Get to he Skadrad. The implication was plain; Vi meant to not follow them. Which was fine, in his mind. The strange elf was a companion of utter chance, again convenient, and though he felt gratitude to him for the rescue that he'd heard about from Lauderdine, Tryn felt no loss were he to leave. Grimly he gave the dark figure a respectful nod then turned to go. Grabbing Inara by the hand, the woodsman began hurrying along the cobblestone, trusting the others to follow and pulling his closest friend, for all that might be worth, along tightly, the realization that their talk aboard the ship might have been their last only now dawning on him.

He didn't say a word as they went, quickly as they might with his and Tza's injuries, and all about them the sickening quiet of Bastillos pressed in threateningly. Tryn felt distinctly uncomfortable, as if some malicious presence sat watching them from artificial shadows, amused by their flight. At any sound his head would turn, trying his best through habit to avert his eyes from others' but far more concerned with identifying threats to his friends. And ever he lead them on, up a flight of steps here, through an archway there, and around multitudes of corners. Slowly shops and stalls regained familiarity, until at last Tryn recognized the path that led directly to the Skadrad. He slowed his halting pace until at last he stopped. In a panic his eyes roved, and releasing Inara's hand, he loosened his sword in its scabbard. Again his instincts screamed at him.

This was too easy.

@Effervescent @rissa @Doctor Jax @CloudyBlueDay

 

[Elle Joyner]

[bg=#B8904D]

---

no-lightbox

Charlie....

It was both inspiring and frustrating, watching him run off into the darkened marketplace. They were, all of them, willing to sacrifice their lives for the Seed if necessary, but since the Mouth of the Mountain, Charlie had been directly responsible for guarding it. The pressure, undoubtedly, was overwhelming, but so too must have been the idea of watching those he cared for risk their safety for him.

But taking off on his own, and leaving Wyn and Hal alone with the Seed might not have been the wisest way to safeguard anyone. Admirable as his sudden drive was, it didn't entirely make their job any easier.

Looking to Hal and the stranger, Wyn frowned softly, "...We need to get inside."

"The idiot!" Hal hissed in frustration as he cradled the bag and watched Charlie run off past the dock. The crew of the Skadrad was near apathetic to the event as they continued to unload crates from within their ship. They spared an occasional glance to the spreading veil of dark that dimmed the orange lights dotting the streets. It wasn't a complete void like Hal had seen back in Lauderdine, to which he was somewhat grateful.

"We stick together," he said to Wynleth.

"They're after me," the stranger said. "It is best I do not linger. Not when you have the Seed. If they find out it is here their focus will be entirely on you. Act calm. Like this crew. The half-elf said there were others? Do you know where they are?"

Looking out into the darkness, Wyn nodded to the stranger, "There's three others. A man named Trynten, an Orc, Tza'hal... A Sur, Inara. Oh, and Djavi... He's a Dvadri, I believe. I don't know where they are... but they can't be far. We've been docked less than an hour."

Her expression falling, Wyn turned to Hal, "...He'll be alright. They... they'll all be alright. They're looking for the Seed. And the others... they know how to look after themselves. They'll be fine..." But whether she was trying to convince him or herself, she wasn't entirely sure.

At the mention of Djavi, the stranger's brows lifted in a small surprise, and it was clear the man recognized the name and did not expect the Dvadri to be in the city, much less with the people before him. He thanked Wynleth for the information before running down the docks the way Charlie had disappeared leaving Wynleth and Hal to fend for themselves. He looked to her, cradling the Seed and sighing through his nose in frustration at the entire situation.

"Let's get in the ship," he said as he headed for the Skadrad. "We stick together." He looked back at her as they walked into the confines of the airship with concern. "Do you think we should tell the captain of the events? The orcs outside don't seem concerned at all. It's kind of strange, in a way. A bit unnerving. Do orcs ever get scared?"

Watching the stranger depart, Wyn cocked her head back to Hal, before giving a small shrug, "Doesn't seem like it, does it? Maybe it's best we don't say anything, till the others get back? The captain might not stick around if he knows what's out there.." Fear laced her words, and burrowed deep into her gaze as she followed Hal up onto the ship planking. The responsibility for protecting the Seed had not changed, but the proximity certainly had. What pressure poor Charlie must have felt. What Hal must be feeling, now, "I can carry it. If you want? You're more likely to hit something if it comes to a fight, than I am."

Hal guided them back to the passenger quarters, his arms still wrapped around Charlie's bag in silent answer to Wynleth's offer. He brought them to his room and set it upon his unmade bed before sinking onto the mattress with it. He didn't like being unable to help as Charlie had so bravely and stupidly ran off to do. It was how Hal had always been as a Freedom Fighter, but with the burden of the Seed of Life now placed upon him he knew that was not a good option.

And yet it still ate at him. It felt like cowardice.

"Do you think we should hide it?" he asked. "What if they come on board or figure out it's here?"

"Probably best we keep it close, I think... In case we need to run." Wyn offered, though there wasn't much conviction in the suggestion. Moving over to the bed, she settled on the opposite side of the bag, looking down at it with a twitch of a frown before turning her eyes back up to Hal, "If they come on board, I can try to seal the door... I've made a shield before. I think I could do it again."

He closed the curtains around the room's only window and moved over to the door to lock it. The action began his nervous pacing as he wondered what was happening and if the others were okay. This was out of the norm for him to take a back seat, and he tried not to look over at Wynleth in his wonderings. He released a frustrated sigh through his nose as he clenched his teeth.

There came a creak and a moan outdoors somewhere a little ways off. Hal peeked through the curtains out the window to check, though he was only met with the strange fog-like blackness. "Maybe we should go looking for them," he said. "Or find the armory. Do you think smugglers would have an armory?"

Frowning, Wyn rose and moving to Hal, reached out, resting her hand over his arm, "...Hey. It's going to be alright. We've done this before. They... they'll make it back. But it won't matter unless we keep the Seed safe. That's our job. All of us."

Letting her fingers drop, she took his hand, giving it a gentle, reassuring squeeze, "...If it bothers you that much, we can go. Whatever you want to do."

She had calmed him considerably, and another sigh escaped him, this time in more of a resolution. "No," he said, "we should stay here."

In his pause he rubbed his side contemplatively where the strange abrasion presided upon his skin. Hal looked over at Wyn and felt his face flush as he recalled his endeavors before their stop in Cabric turned sour. "How are you feeling?" he asked.

"Scared..." She offered with a frown, "Tired. Every time we've gotten just a few minutes of rest, they find us. It's exhausting." Looking up at him, she caught the flush in his skin and a brow twitched upwards, "Unless... unless you were referring to... to us?"

"Well, that too," he added quickly. "But mostly all of it. I'm a bit scared myself, to be honest. This is bigger than I imagined. I had sort of hoped we would have a smooth sail from here on."

"I thought the monastery was the worst of it..." A sigh escaped, as Wyn moved to sink down on the bed again, "Then Lauderdine happened... and now this. I'm afraid it'll never stop, Hal. I'm so afraid... More now than ever."

His pacing changed course to the bedside, and he sat next to Wynleth. "If the World Tree is so afflicted that it is dying, then the Shadow Army is great in number," Hal said. "This won't be our last encounter, nor will the next. This Seed of Life we carry should bring the end of it all, I think. Otherwise, what is the point?"

Looking to the bag, Wyn breathed out, "We have it, Hal. The Seed. I forget, sometimes... It hardly seems real." Tipping her eyes back up, she smiled faintly, "If we survive this... some day, we'll be able to tell our children we found the Seed of Life..."

Hal brought the bag to his lap and opened it to reveal the Seed. What a strange thing it was. It was a living being, pulsing with life as it awaited its home. His hand delicately brushed the moss that covered one side, and the veins of it glowed beneath the tangle of roots.

"It's cold," he said softly to himself. After a brief thought, he looked over to Wynleth. "Would you want to bring children into this world? What if this darkness never ceases?"

"I think it would depend, I suppose... On whether or not we were successful. But then again, if life stops... if no one has the courage to continue it, doesn't darkness win, either way?" With a frown, she reached behind her for one of the pelts, handing the fur to Hal, "Here. Put that around it. Theresia said to keep it warm, right? I'm not exactly attuned for warmth... Best we get it back to Charlie, soon."

At the mention of Charlie, Hal's thoughts rushed back to the courageous half-elf who charged into the darkness in search for Tza'Hal and Trynten and Inara. He felt the anxiety return, and wrapped the Seed carefully in the pelt. What if Charlie didn't come back? "Starting a family would be nice," he considered, and then huffed a small laugh. "But I think it would be nicer if this Shadow Magic wasn't a problem. It's sad to think the heart is so influential to power that it will take corruption over all."

"Some hearts are more easily won by darkness than others..." Smiling wryly, Wyn reached to lay a hand over his, "Some are forfeit to better things." Then looking up, she sighed, "I can't stand waiting..."

There came a groan from out the starboard side, mechanical and deep. Muffled shouts like commands called out to those nearby, and suddenly the Skadrad's engines whirred to life in its rumbling hum. Hal shot up from the bedside in concern. "We can't leave them here!" he said as he headed for the door.

Wyn was up as Hal shot for the door and she didn't move to stop him. It wasn't surprising that the Orcs would flee without regard for their passengers. They had no personal stakes, no apparent reason for waiting around and no doubt it seemed suicidal to them, to wait around when the Shadow Casters weren't famous for showing mercy.

Turning back, she grabbed the Seed, still wrapped tightly in the furs and carefully slipping it back into the bag, she slung it over her shoulders, "So we'll find them."

---

Collab with @Effervescent

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[CloudyBlueDay]

CHARLIE REDDEMAN

"Hey! Stop!"

Charlie's breath hitched in his throat as he scrambled away from Tryn momentarily, pulling his arm out of the man's reach, seeing as he had made a dash to grab it. "I didn't mean to hurt her, I promise!" He babbled, shame suddenly washing over him, for having knocked Tza down so recklessly. Perhaps Charlie was simply imagining it, but he swore he felt a sort of angered gaze from Trynten as he moved to help Tza'Hal up. He waited for some sort of yell or bitter words.

Instead, there was a laugh.

He looked up in shock, staring at the orc with his mouth agape, and his cheeks red and hot. She was laughing! No anger, no discontent, laughter! At him? At what he'd said, what he'd done, oh god, what had he done? The poor half-elf seemed so confused, Tza's outburst had left him at such a loss. He remained helpless on the ground, having not yet even found the bearings pull himself back up.

Eventually, he did, replaying the words she had managed to get out in between her giggles. Him, a caster? He was shocked. Perhaps the fog had gotten the best of both of them. Charlie turned an even deeper shade of red at her compliment, and seemed to tense at her touch on his shoulder, though relax quite quickly after. "I'm... glad you're safe too." He mumbled. "Thanks."

It seemed things were working in their favor, because moments after his little.. attack, Inara and Vi showed up. Hal and Wyn would be proud! His search had not been in vain. Charlie was not Vi's biggest fan, but the corners of his mouth still tugged downwards when Djavi made it clear he had no intention of coming with them. He opened his mouth to say at least some word of encouragement, or perhaps thanks or well wishes, but Tryn had already turned to go. Charlie gravitated towards Tza, waiting only until she was ready to head after Trynten.

As they moved forward, Charlie did seem to slowly recognize their surroundings, and wondered what had caused him to lose sight of the way back to the ship at all. He was nervous, but focused on the task of getting back to the ship. Unlike Lauderdine, there was a clear escape in sights, one that would quickly take them away from the accursed shadow that seemed to chase them so intently. "I think we're almost there," Charlie stated, eyes glimmering with hope. Perhaps they could get out of here before any real damage was done. It was to soon to repeat Lauderdine. Too soon.

Before Charlie saw the ship, he heard that mechanical groan. He perked up, worried, and quickened his pace, rushing ahead of his three companions in an attempt to get a better look at what had caused the noise. The Skadrad was whirring to life, beginning to move away. His heart sank into his stomach; they were leaving without him. They hadn't been quick enough. Don't leave us here! He wanted to scream, but that was before he saw the ship just above the Skadrad.. sinking.

"We have to run," Charlie spoke fast, his eyes alert and wide, tone high and anxious. "Tza -- I can -- I'll carry you. The ship will leave without us if we don't go now." He was panicked. Terrified. Don't leave us behind. Don't leave us behind. Please, please. Don't leave us.