Viridos, Chapter 4

[DotCom]

Aerie - The Aviary: Two Days Ago, darkred

A giant fucking thank-you card with no food, no booze, and mandatory sex.

Typical Aviary. Only these stuff-shirted, questionably high pedants would ever think 'fostering a dynasty' came anywhere near deserving for saving an entire floating nation.

No, that came much closer to saying, "Aerie! You're back! We missed you! Fuck off!"

It was, Aerie decided, a shitty thanks.

"Hey, thanks for saving our city, now would you mind repopulating for us?" Across a sea of dappled wings, her father smirked at her, and she felt her hands tighten into fists at her side. The expression on the Valkyrie's face only went so far in performing as a balm to what remained of her pride. It had been five long days since the Aviary got its shit together, and while her wing was splinted and healing, she still couldn't fly, or she'd have made her way back to fairer climes days ago.

That, and the two other Avian she'd rescued kept ogling at her like they expected her to sprout a second fire-breathing head. That is, a second head that also breathed fire, not another fire-breathing head in addition to her first.

Now that the Aviary was no longer crashing from the sky, Aerie remembered why she'd left this place at all. It stank with pompous ceremony and ill-earned pride. Everything here was forced tradition, veneers hiding rotting teeth. Even the air seemed to fit too tight, and she ruffled her wings impatiently, glad for the pain, because at least it was real. And she didn't care, or didn't know it made her seem like a petulant child. She have chosen petulant over pretension any day.

Fortunately, she knew her stay had never been permanent. She had been on a boring, semi-deadly trip with one group of insufferable, yet not entirely worthless creatures, and then abandoned that mission for an equally boring, equally deadly, equally obnoxious one.

Now the second was done, and because she was still hale and whole and she hadn't heard any human whining in quite some time, she only assume the first had gone on. And no one was forcing her to fuck there.

Impatient, she turned to her companions-of-the-instant, arms akimbo, expression bemused at the very best.

"Tell her to get up," she told Nyashi flatly. "Or we're leaving her."

She thrust a finger at Kozoul.

"Saddle the bee or whatever the fuck. We're getting out of here."

If there was still a crowd waiting, watching, she gave no notice as she sauntered cleanly toward the edge of the platform and the waiting bee. It wasn't until she was mounted and ready to go that she acknowledged them.

"Oh, please," she scoffed, "Don't give me that look. We all agreed on mutual hatred years ago. Thanks for the hat, though. I have a friend who'd love it."

She gave a smile as sweet as she could muster, then tipped the bee forward, passengers and all, spiraling in graceful circles down to the unfamiliar land below.

 

[E.T.]

The river passed by with little more than a whisper, in seemed more sluggish than usual as though it had swelled and gorged itself to the point where it now lay almost catatonic. But the sway of water weeds and the gentle drifting of unaided boats revealed that it was completely idle. Like much of the water bound city the Silver Wings had suffered some damage, the docks boards were stained and scratched, workers bustled around the far side where an abandoned boat had plowed into the wall leaving a far sized hole. But Belphebe knew that her customers came to look, to touch, to escape the everyday in the comfort of silks and soft skin. So within two days all that had been damaged on the inside had been either fixed, thrown out, or replaced, and things like the hole in the far wall were simply hidden behind curtains of dark cloth or by folding screens. Good thing as well, it seems disasters often brought even more people flocking her way. Well, maybe more her girls way but, all were welcome guests in her house provided they knew enough to follow the rules.

"I realize that the borders are closed but I have certain assets that needed to be brought over." Belphebe had spent the last half hour arguing with a captain on the docks of the Silver Wings. He represented her last shipment of goods from Kaustir and she was not overly pleased with his excuses. There were many things that she could make do without, stuff that she could fund suitable, if lower quality, replacements for in Viridos but, lives that were under her protection were much harder to replace. Over the years she had spent years carefully weaving a network that could move people, mainly prostitutes, almost anywhere in Viridos and Kaustir without worry. But in one fell swoop she had just watched her network being cut in half, and she was not happy.

"I am sorry Madam but there is nothing we can do." The Captain said scratching the lichen hair that fell around his tree bark face, not quite meeting her gaze. There a few deadly moments of silence before Belphebe spoke again.

"Very well." Her voice was back to its silky tone and although her face betrayed nothing there was perhaps a glimmer of anger in her eyes that caused the captain to retreat very rapidly the moment he was handed his pay. For a long while after Belphebe stayed on the docks, her mind racing although outwardly she appeared calm, until she finally slithered back towards her office. The captain had already demonstrated what she feared was happening in Kaustir, that her associates feared the lash of authority more than her own influence and were content with just surviving rather than seeking out the rewards that she offered for good service. And in those times of uncertainty there was little keeping her charges from being sold to slavery or just running away. What she needed was to reestablish her presence, to show that her control was not something that could be limited, to show that she was a power to fear.

"Ferret!" She said her voice firm and commanding but only loud enough to fill the sitting room as she entered the building. The girl in question appeared at her Mistress's side as though summond from empty air, a mildly confused look of her face added to the illusion. Together they walked in silence, the girl in tune enough to know that what was going to be said was not something that was to be discussed with so many ears listening. Neither of them spoke until they had reached Belphebe's office. Coiling into her chair Belphebe reached into her desk and pulled out a piece of paper and a ink pen.

"You are to take this to Teadoir, and be quick about it." she said as she wrote. At first glance the letter was complete nonsense, thoughts that seemed only vaguely connect loosely strung together. However instead of signing it she pulled a small stamp from her desk and after pouring a bit of red wax onto the bottom of the letter she pressed the stamp into the wax until it was cooled. The impression that it left was that of a heart with a sealed letter in the center that marked the letter for what it really was. It was a kind of code called The Lovers' Secret, when read normally the letter would make no sense but if folded in a certain that both parties had decided on, usually the shape of a heart, the message would be revealed. The message itself was simple enough; whether anyone was smuggling at this point and an expression of interest if anyone was.

Folding up the letter Belphebe handed it to Ferret face along with a silver coin to hasten her steps. Once the girl was gone the Madam let out a frustrated sigh and began to run her temples with her fingers. A timid knock at her door interrupted her troubled thoughts and she regained her composure in time for one of her attendants to enter.

"Lunch shall be ready soon." he said with a bow.

"Yes, fine. I will be taking it in here today. There is much to be done." She said with a wave of her hand, her gaze already being pulled back to the renewed pile of papers on her desk.

"Very good Madam." He replied with another bow before withdrawing. For a long while she was almost motionless at her desk, the only sign of her troubled mind was her Aux that completed circuits of the room the closest the moth could come to pacing.

 

[Mundane Monster]

Nyashi ║ Avian ║ Courier, #692F16

Her mother had always told her not to follow the crowd, but at the moment that sure looked like a good idea. Giving Adelita a jostle, Nyashi scrambled to her feet and high tailed it after Aerie. Spreading her wings she gave a quick flap and then she was hovering. Another flap and she was shooting after Aerie and the bee. If it had been any other mount, Nyashi would have grabbed on and hitched a ride. But it was a bee. And Nyashi had always thought those were really creepy, with their constant buzzing and weird fuzziness. Bugs weren't supposed to be fuzzy. Cute little animals, like bunnies were.

Now that she was out of the fire, she wondered what she had to do to keep from falling into the pan. She knew her mother would be fuming when she saw her again. So it would be best to not go home for a while. Maybe a long while, seeing as how she had bowed out on an official ceremony with very very important people. Maybe she should return to Hosia to look for some work. In light of the recent circumstances, a lot of people would be in need of courier. Maybe she could try and help to reunite some families...And her own. She still needed to find Biki, demand an explanation for her deserting their mother and then depending on the result, she'd either hug her or beat the crap out of her.

Pumping her wings harder so she could be at the same level as the gross insects' rider. "So where are you planning to go, pal?" She asked giving the other Avian a smile. "I was planning to travel to Hosia and look for my sister while helping other's locate some of their relatives. You could come to if you want, it'd be nice to have some company. And even though your kind of cranky, you're a pretty great companion. Who knows maybe Adelita will join us too. If she hasn't been roped into an arranged marriage."

Flipping onto her back and coasting on the wind, Nyashi tucked her arms behind her head. "How crazy was that huh? They give us crowns, call us heroes and then they try and make us choose a lifelong mate from a group of strange guys. And they even tried to make it seem like arranged marriages were a treat and not a damn horror show!" Letting out a relieved whoop of laughter, the swift avian righted herself and then dived under the Great Bee. Coming up on the opposite side of Aerie she resumed her laid back position. Being able to fly properly was just so relaxing!

 

[Aschu]

Adelita Junodn, ORANGE

Adelita had sprinted so fast to join Aerie and Nyashi that she was sure she left everybody in shock. She knew there had been a 50/50 chance that Aerie would see through her facade. She thought she would have blown her clover or something like that, not give her perfect opportunity to leave these fuckers. "I'm still in shock. I can't be live that shit called a plan half-worked"

"Of course it worked, no one normal thinks that a person could possibly fake a faint during such an important ceremony"

"Aerie did"

"I said normal"

This is how their conversation went as they caught up to Aerie and Nyashi. The sun was setting, and the cirrus clouds practically glowed pink and orange. It was moments like these she missed from her life with her parents. But those memories were bittersweet.

Once they had caught up, she turned to them. "So, I may have missed most of your conversation, and since we're pals," she said,"I'm pretty sure you've already exchanged destination plans" She didn't have any leads what so ever on Barvelle, so she guessed it didn't hurt to ask.

"Yes it can hurt to ask. It always can hurt to ask"

"Shut it Feren," she said, swatting at him. "Do any of you know of a place called Barvelle? Cuz' I kinda have to get there. ASAP"

​

 

[Saphen]

Ash of the Heartwood

Ash could feel his temper flaring, again this creature mocked him with words and it took all of his will to prevent embers from welling beneath his skin. Ash endured the insults with his arms crossed, his eyes closed because any greater sign of dissension between the group would only cause Ironblood more trouble. Yet the moment Amaltas called him honest he could feel his rage leaving him, a distant memory that was replaced by confusion and guilt.

"I have purified the foulest things that only the undertaker can match, but the grevious is like meat that cannot be eaten. She is like the general of foul things; a general grievous. She has four arms where other fouls have two. I touch and it burn me with swords of searing odd light. Tiny clad ironblood, for all her addled halfkin brain, was not-dumb to seek me. She would be like trampled children, and the grevious would be free to swing blades."

"He is not wrong," Ash said as he stared at Amaltas for the first time since the trial began. The undertaker nodded in understanding and respect before he looked back at the council. Ash's hatred of Amaltas wouldn't vanish so easily but they had a mutual goal of protecting what was precious to them...and that is something the undertaker could understand.

"The first time I ran into this beast was in the burial of thirteen from the expedition that found the monolith. The first thing I noticed is that the Aux had not returned to Ilium and the Crux were living only by virtue of breath. Their souls were dead, removed like the core of a fruit, which left an empty husk for this "Grevious" to live in and corrupt." Ash waited a few moments for the council and others to discuss this before he continued.

"I had to place these bodies into a tree of great size, one of beauty and age. It was full of wisdom and dreams and it had earned every day. It's trunk marked with the scars of time but it's Heartwood was as strong and true as any Kin who ever basked in Ilium's sun." Ash placed a closed fist over his heart, the mudra for kinship with the forest.

"I had to enter this tree and when I did Grevious was able to reach out to me. It's tentacles pouring forth from the lips of dead Crux, it's black heart a prison for dead Aux." The undertaker paused, tears welling up in his eyes, his throat becoming dry as he forced himself to continue.

"I had to burn out the heart of that tree to purify those travelers. This foul thing could reach with but a fragment of it's true pestilence." The crowd was deathly silence, some did various Mudras for purity, honoring the dead, sadness, corruption, anything to ward off the evil notion of killing a tree.

"It's final moments will be my burden to bear for the rest of my days so hear me. Let this tree's life be an omen for all of Viridos. If we let this corruption spread mark my words, you will be begging me to consume you with fire from the inside out."

 

[Asmodeus]

South Shore of Hosia

​

It was as if a flower had wilted. The Sundel Docks, once crammed with ships and bejeweled with crates, now carried only birdsong. The greater fleet was stranded at Port Tattersal, to the south, while the remainder idled behind the military blockade. Deals had been made, by raven, to secure their cargo in Avarath. But it would only last so long. As the Fourth House, the word of a Sundel bought only so many favours.

Lord Sundel walked the mossy stone with Berias. As brothers they were opposing palettes, the merchant lord bearded in scraggly brown, while Berias faded to grey. Copper and Silver were their nicknames on the trade route.

"House Austrik and House Vestra will send ambassadors to Edeolon. They must be inconvenienced."

"We can try, Brother. But ours are the South Routes, not the Prosperos."

"Then block the South Routes. Every day we cost them is a day the First and Second Houses crumble. Monopolies of decades are coming to an end."

"My spies tell me Lord Nordrin has been approached. They want the Third House to find a land route through the Chersonese."

Sundel barked with laughter. "Austrik's been sucking too much nickel if he thinks he can move a backlog of spices and Dorgrad Ore through the bandit lands."

They paused on the stone jetty, priests and scribes idling around them. They seemed more like a tourist group than the staff of the fourth most influential trading company in Sunne. Over their shoulders, framed on the horizon, were the jagged silhouettes of naval ships enforcing the blockade.

"Find our captains. Get them northwards. I want contracts with the Aviary. This is our time, Berias. The Prosperos is choked with dead; the River Mystic and the Blacksmith are missing; Edelon is swarming with Tattersal's thugs. And the Navy's commandeered seven vessels of House Vestra. The West Routes have never been more disrupted. Same with House Nordrin - they reel from the Dorgrad troubles. And as for House Austrik, they have an uprising to handle in Avarath, and the Traitor Merchant has brought them into disrepute. Opportunity knocks, Brother."

Berias fussed with his fingers, checking the nails, stroking the wrinkles. It was sure sign of his concern. "It is not the Ruling Houses that concern me, Sundel. The lesser merchants see the opportunity as clearly as you do. Zovalias is making moves. Teadoir too. And there is talk of Nassad, the Newblood Merchant, in Avarath. The myth of the Fourth Nation is something we can't ignore. The Lesser Houses will rise, unless we get the borders open."

"And that is why you must go to the Aviary. The Choirs will seek their lost people, and they will need funds to do so. We grease their wings and in return they carry our influence, to where border guards cannot --...."

Lord Sundel stopped abruptly and stared past his brother's hip. "HEY! GET AWAY FROM HERE!"

In the docking bay, a small head was poking out of the water. It seemed disorientated. Turning, it beheld the merchants with wide eyes.

"Oh, bake yer puddin', Mistah!
Ah got all turned around, ah did.
See, ah wuz swimmin' from me
'ome on the north shore and there
wuz a current wot I ain't felt
before, and ah tried to get raand it
- honest ah did - but there wuz a
dead hippo in the ninth confluence
and ah din't wanna swim near it,
so ah took thah sea-rabbit tunnel
like me bruva Twiglet showed me.
Only it weren't tha same tunnel
an' a crocodile wuz shoutin' racist abuse..."​

Lord Sundel picked up a rock and flung it at the babbling fairy.

"AWAY, I SAID!"

"Aaaaaagh!"

Sprig dived beneath the water and swam onwards.

Hosian Slums

Sprig poked his head of the water and peered at the jostling crowd. People crammed the jetties, walkways and stone ledges of the slum and fought for every inch of space. Their attention was on an Elf, beautiful and white-robed, who occupied the steps of a ruined building.

"It was here - HERE where the Kaustirans attacked us. An agent of the Desert Czar. He stole the Alate Stone of the Aviary, and meant to bring it crashing down upon us. Two cities would have fallen! Thousands would have died, if not for the hand of Ilium."

The crowd wailed and swayed, one part mourning, one part rage. The priestess laid her hand upon the ruin behind her.

"Here! The army has taken the papers, the maps and portraits. But once this wall was covered, with the schemes of the Kaustiran Devil. For years they have planned this! The Red Nation seeks only our demise."

"DEATH TO KAUSTIR!"

"DEATH TO THE CZAR!"

"Ilium has taken her Prophet into the wilderness. Our Messiah is gone. We are alone as the demons rise!"

There was commotion on the gondolas. A band of street children had pulled the turban from a Kaustiran man. They knew him by his skin, deep-tanned from the desert sun. With whoops and laughter they tripped him in his boat. Others saw - forestkin and anima. They went clambering across the boats to pummel the man. As he suffered a sword was drawn above, on the walkway of a giant cypress. A Kaustiran mother, clutching her child in one hand, a khopesh in the other. She whirled the blade and sliced arms and shoulders in her haste to flee. She did not get far. A pair of Avians brought her down and her baby fell between the press of bodies.

Something plunged into the water next to Sprig. A draken in Avarathi silks, his jaw shattered.

"Aaaaaaagh!"

Sprig dived beneath the water and swam onwards.

Silver Shore of East Hosia

​

John Bassley kissed his daughter's brow, then lowered her into the rowboat, where his wife took hold of her. He followed with two more bags and a bundle of kindling. His three sons were already aboard, fighting over the tiller. They were restless; and things would only get worse as the day wore on.

The shoemaker and his family were one of dozens loading rowboats on the Silver Shore. Behind them, in the eaves of a great tree, their homes were being moved into by others. The homeless from upriver and the immigrants displaced from the slums. There was no love lost for the Kausitrans, but at least they paid good money. The gold from the house sale would keep John and his family alive as they sailed for Riven.

It had been no easy choice. But his son, Alam, had been born frail. And with bodies washing up on the Hosian shores and plague spreading in the waters, the city had become too dangerous. While hundreds had died when the rocks fell and the rivers swelled, thousands more would fall to the aftermath. And with the borders closed they had only themselves to count on.

John picked up his fishing pole and slung the last bag on his shoulder. He gave a parting glance to his house in the tree, where Kaustiran immigrants made campfires. He hoped they would pray to the household spirits that kept the thatching str--

"Scuse me!"

His wife screamed and his sons started laughing. John turned to see a Hobbler Fairy clinging to the side of the rowboat.

"Ah din't mean to disturb you or nuffin'. Honest! It's just ah'm very tired and me arms are buggered!"

John stepped onto the boat, and as it rocked Sprig gave a yelp and plunged back into the water. "DON'T THROW STUFF AT ME!"

The shoemaker scowled and watched the little fairy thrash in the water. He seemed to be having trouble staying afloat. There was something strapped to his back. Sprig's eyes were large and terrified as he peered back.

"Tha banks are too high, mistah! 'Elp us! Please!"

Slowly the shoemaker extended the fishing pole and held it out over the river. Sprig spluttered and grabbed hold of it, then stared nervously at the man as he was lifted up and over, onto the bank. The fairy collapsed with a jangling sound and was tangled in his oversized blue cloak.

"It's a Coin Fairy!" shouted one of John's sons.

"Let's eat it!" cried another.

John kept them both at bay while watching the Hobbler. Sprig spat out some water, got up, checked the coin jar strapped to his back, then grinned. "Gawdess bless ya, Mistah! Ah'm ever so grapefruit!" And then he ran off towards the market streets, tripping now and then on his cloak.

John would not miss this city.

The Silver Wings brothel

Sprig was no stranger to tall people. He had lived his life around them. But like the trees in the forest, Sprig usually counted on the tall people to stay in the upright position. When they didn't, it was like a forest crashing down.

That was how it felt as the Hobbler entered the sweaty, smokey world of the Silver Wings brothel. Those not standing were sitting, and those not sitting were dancing, and those not dancing were rolling around with their naughty bits out. Women were being disrobed on chairs and screwed on tabletops, or else were waiting their turn around the fireplace and holding tankards as big as their bosoms. Beer suds and lingerie criss-crossed the air with each peel of laughter. And behind the clouds of opiate smoke he saw shadows dueling.

"Scuse me! Aagh! Bollocks! Erm... Miss... er.. scuse me! Comin' through!" The coins on his back jingled as he ducked between skirts and hairy legs. He had his cloak bundled up in his arms, to save himself from tripping. Like felled trees drunkards hit the ground around him, along with the occasional girl in mid-ecstasy. Sprig clambered over a gyrating anima and between the legs of a sword swallower, flinching as a dog barked in his face.

"Ere! Look at this, girls! That little bugger's got some money!"

Sprig was blocked by a busty wench with bright red hair. Her teeth were missing as she laughed. Another woman stepped on his cloak. "Come to steer my ship, have ye, Darling?" Laughter and stale perfume swirled.

"Sorry, ah can't talk, Miss. Could you..er.. just..."

A massive nocturne woman picked him up, shrieking with laughter. "Ere ya go, Hobbler. Navigate your way out of these!"

Sprig screamed as he was thrust down the woman's corset, his head clamped between her breasts. It was hot and sweltering. His legs kicked. The woman began dancing, showing off her decorated cleavage to the howling drunks. Finally he twisted free and fell with a whump to the ground. His head spun. He rolled onto his back.

The penny jar!

"I reckon he could buy the first inch of your cunt with this, eh Marge?" A draken merchant jangled the jar then tossed it to a whore before Sprig could get to him.

"I reckon that's all he needs!" Howled the woman, before tossing it back, straight over Sprig's head.

"It'd be like tossing a carrot through a barn d-- AAAAAAAAAAGH!!!!" The Draken collapsed with an agonizing scream, clutching his shattered, bleeding foot. Sprig scooped up the penny jar with one arm, then rested Hammy the blacksmith's hammer on his shoulder.

The jar was not the only thing the fairy had strapped to his back.

"Mine!" Sprig declared, before turning and running full-pelt towards the kitchen.

The Silver Wings kitchen

And there she was.

The beauty of fairy-kind. The elegance of forest kin.

The love of Sprig's life, russet haired and bright-eyed.

His angel. His everything.

​

"Wodda ye doing, Sprig, ye fecking arse?!" cried Molly Magpie as she turned from a cooking pot. "I told ye not to bother me at work, ye big eejit!"

Sprig dodged a frying pan and rushed across the kitchen towards the furious brownie. "Molly, me precious! Ah've come to save ye!"

"Save me, he says! Saints be praised! Ye lily-hugging shite!" Molly threw a milk jug that shattered on the bread oven. Sprig kept Hammy across his face to deflect the shards.

"Ah know ye got yer doubts, Molly, and yer old man ate all the flowers ah sent ye. An' ah know ah broke into yer house that one time. But I've changed, Sweet-'art! Ah promise! Ah'm a self-made man, I am!" He turned and tried to show her the penny jar on his back, and promptly took an apple to the head. "Gaagh!"

Molly reloaded from the fruit bowl. "Comin' round here with yer no-good fecking brother, an' yer bad fish. Madame Belphebe's lost enough customers to food poisoning, ye arse weed of a faggot!"

Sprig made a run for the cook. "Cam on, Luv, thah wuz years ago! An' whah d'ya expect when yer establishment can only serve meat wot's committed suicide!" He gripped the bottom of the bronwie's stool and shook it. "Please Molly! It ain't safe here! Ah'm an 'ero of the Green Realm now! Ah can take ye away from all this!"

Molly beat at him with a spatula. "I'll feed ye to the fecking crows, ye nun's tit!"

"Ow! Leave it out! Ah ain't tellin' porkies! Cap'n Valium's offered me a job! We can join the navy and leave this all beh-AAAAGH!"

Molly brained him with a chopping board.

 

[Asmodeus]

Fuck Knows Where

​

"All the paths come back here. There's no way through."

WHOOSH!

"We could leave the path."

"And plunge through that undergrowth? We'll be ripped apart.

WHOOSH!

"And besides..." Shardis peered towards the village ahead, strung on trees and walkways over narrow canyons. "The earth is cracked here. I can't even see the bottom."

"Maybe we can barter for food."

WHOOSH!

"Let's hope they're frien--" Shardis stopped and scowled over her shoulder. She and Caoimhe moved back from the gap in the treeline and peered at Medwick, who was swinging his sword around in joyful arcs. "Medwick! What are you doing?"

The wizard landed a professional blow to a tree, severing its lower branch. He was actually smiling. "My arm feels fantastic!" He made a two-handed chop that decapitated a shrub flower. "That mad vagrant fellow should be given a job. He's got the hands of Vonsoon masseur!"

"We are trying to approach a village of natives. Please stop swinging a blade around."

"Yes, because abiding with native customs has worked out wonderfully for us so far." He sheathed his falchion and joined them at the vantage point. "Perhaps smacking them around with a sword will yield better results."

"That's Kaustiran thinking. You're a man of reason."

"Which would be a fantastic, were we not dealing with bestial savages." He cocked his head towards Caoimhe. "No offense."

The wolf girl blinked at him, then went back to watching the village. "There is no food where the earth cracks. Nothing more to hunt. And the rations are gone. We are starving."

Medwick sighed and ran a hand across his scab-ridden scalp. Flies were feasting in his hair. "Alright... maybe they'll think Shardis is a god." He pushed up and led the way through the treeline.

They came out onto a field of mossy, fallen trees, where fungus bloomed and insects scattered. The deadwood turned to mush before erupting in a single, sturdy bridge that crossed the misted chasms ahead. Beyond, the village was effervescent with people. Though pale-skinned the natives were blackened by grime and a mildew-like mottling And as the trio drew closer, they saw stranger marks. The people were tattooed in luminescent purple. Great stripes of ink made patterns on their face, limbs and torsos. No one villager was the same. Medwick counted kinds of avian, human and nocturne, along with some more humanoid forest kin. It seemed that only those with skin, able to be tattooed, were dwelling here. The glowing purple made them seem like strange sea-life, floating in a corral paradise.

It was a sentry who saw them first. A tale and spear-wielding man, naked but for a loincloth. He took the revelation calmly and moved to the end of one bridge, staring as he held the spear at ease.

Medwick took a breath and stepped out onto the fallen log. As a Pegulian he was curious, and as a mountain expert he was no stranger to heights. But even as he looked down, into the chasm, he was struck by an abyssal unease. It was like the centre of the earth was exposed down there, and all that was ancient and terrible lurked beneath the mist.

His knee ached. If only he had gotten that vagrant fellow to give him a full body rub. With a spasm here and there the wizard crossed the log and kept his eyes on the spearman who waited, expressionless, for his arrival. Shardis came after him on all fours, while Caoimhe waited at the chasm edge with her backpack.

By the time Medwick reached the other end, three more spearmen had arrived to block his way. But like the first they simply leaned on their weapons. There was no show of violence. Their faces creased with purple lines as they studied him.

"Good day to you." He said it slowly, while waving a hand. The natives followed his hand with their heads. "We seek... food." He mimed a bowl and spoon, shoveling air into his mouth.

The first spearman bent his torso left then right, a single fluid motion as if a wave was passing over him. "Yaoooooouuuugh." The harmony was perfect.

"From far we have travelled, and will barter for food." Medwick put a hand in his pocket and held out his last three thermic gems. The natives stared at them.

"I don't think they're the jewelery type." Shardis murmured. The natives peered past the wizard's leg at the crouched cat.

"Look, if I could just sp--" Medwick pocketed the gems and started forward. The spears came up. Four blades of sharpened wood. The wielders spread their stance and bobbed their shoulders. It was almost like a dance move.

"Yah-da-dah-da, ya-da-dah-da!"

Medwick kept both hands up, more to hold Shardis back than offer submission. His eyes roamed around the gathering of children and tribesmen, the purple stripes eclipsing facial features, as if he were confronted by a horde of sentient oil paintings. They were on edge now, weapons drawn. This would end badly. Just as before, he had got everyone ki--

A thought occurred.

Slowly, shakily, and with a scientific furrow in his brow, the wizard lifted his leg, the bad knee throbbing. He opened out the hip, swinging the knee to a right angle with his body. His balance almost gave out. The chasm loomed beneath him. He swayed. He sweated. He brought the sole of the foot against the opposite knee. Then his hands moved, graduallly, to one side, the far hand cupping the ear, while the other turned palm-up.

The mudra of questioning.... just as the Jade Prophet had demonstrated.

Medwick wobbled, and stared back at the villagers.

"Not all... who are lost... wander...."

The villagers looked to one another. Their spears lowered. They talked amongst themselves with guttural grunts and a wave-like motions of neck and arms. Even a small child got involved, tugging on a warrior's arm and whispering in his ear. They seemed to take the child's opinion as seriously as the rest.

"Fulley Fallah!" The call went out and the other villagers went back to their activities, as smoothly as a group of actors breaking character. The children went running to spread the word, while the spearman opened out their ranks. One of them motioned to Medwick, a gesture half-inviting and half-hurrying.

Medwick broke the mudra and dashed over onto solid ground, panting for breath. Then he turned and made the same gesture to Shardis and Caoimhe.

The trio were led into the village and towards the camp fire, where a massive white grub worm was roasting.

 

[Torsty]

The Hosian Favelas – Mass Cremation, limegreen

The river bank had been drastically altered. The lotic ecosystem washed away by the flood. So had the shantytowns fallen victim to the brute force of the uncontrollable phenomenon. Now the inhabitants were left with nothing but the eerie silence that roamed over the alien landscape. The buzz from a thousand different animals that usually characterized the area, gone.

One great feature of the river's ecosystem is its state of continuous physical change. Biotic components will reappear. Master Teadoir Ehrendil is taking no chances on letting nature's predators make their return too sudden for what was about to take place.

Creatures that prey on the dead were kept at a distance. Boats were sent out to keep submarine threats from snatching an easy meal in the form of the corpses that still occupied the river. Aerial scouts hovered over the zone. Nothing was going to interrupt the sacred burial of Ilium's faithful in the Hosian favelas.

Civilians had gathered to take one last farewell with the deceased before they were shipped off to the sea. They too gave space for the monks who were carrying out the rites.

After the bodies were carried out of the water, they were rolled in white sheets after the priests had blessed them, pouring a small amount of water from the Prosperos River into the mouth of every departed. Hands were put palm-to-palm; as in prayer. Garlands of flowers hung around their necks.

The next to last rite was to put the bodies on wooden rafts in the river. Then they were set on fire by the cultists, and pushed to wards the open sea. Civilians, monks, priests; all chanted mantras throughout the ceremony.

Ehrendil Guards stood watching from afar. They made sure no civilian would disturb the procedure. Most behaved, a few let their emotions overflow, trying to break through the armoured sentinel's line. They could not just let everyone go near the corpses. They had floated in the water for days.

Teadoir stood among the Priests, for he too had partaken in the ceremony. His clothes were soaked in water from the waist down.

 

[lynzy]

"It seems we have come at a good time?" At the last of her question Shardis turned to face Medwick and she smiled as his nose wrinkled at the sight of the grub cooking on the spit. To the Snow Leopard Anima it smelled like nuts roasting in the oven at home and she inhaled deeply then licked her chops and began drooling.

Through more gestures and the sight of a large dead bug of some sort being dismantled in the center of the village and other villagers carrying grubs about and setting up fires, the three got the gist that there had been a battle of sorts and that the village was about to eat the spoils. Since Medwick had displayed the mantra so well, they had brought the party into the village and were treating them as honored guests.

The excitement was palatable, children skipped along beside workers and smiles were present on many of the faces as they were obviously preparing for a special event. The atmosphere was even more lightened by the music the natives began to play as some of them started dancing about. The same sentry that had let them into the village in the first place now smiled and began speaking "Yaaauugh ya da da uhhh edda ugh!" He gestured and grunted to Galain and the girls and wouldn't take no for an answer even after Medwick insisted he couldn't dance. Giggling children surrounded them as they led them out into the dance area amongst other revelers. Shardis, Caoimhe and Galain were all swept reluctantly into the dance.

Although Galain wasn't capable of doing much dancing, it seemed best to join them in some way so he made a few hand gestures as he limped around the area. Shardis tried her best to imitate some of the moves but didn't get the timing right while the wolf girl blended right in, although she was to tired for the leaping (she also wouldn't jostle the bag). They were led by some of the men and women and it seemed expected for them to perform to some degree. Thankfully there was no specific choreographed steps required and they managed to fumble there way through the ordeal.

Finally they were able to settle themselves, or thought they were till an elderly woman went to sit next to the wolf girl and Shardis and made motions of waving her hand and holding her nose and others agreed to the sentiments and quickly they were taken to a small pond on the outskirts of the village.

They were shown a gourd made for scooping water and a small trickling spring then given a bowl of something that would pass as soap, as it foamed up when rubbed with water. Left to their ministrations the three had the chance to relax some as they rid themselves of the grime and pestilence that had plagued them since they had fallen into the river. Caoimhe kept a firm grip on her bag the whole time, which again seemed odd to Shar and kept her from splashing about like the Anima did.

After climbing out of the little pond they found another bowl that had some kind of ointment in it which they found eased the itching and pains they had recently acquired in their travels. The trio began looking about for their clothing but couldn't find them. Medwick began to swear, "If they burned my sash I will fry them in the Hell's furn..." He turned to see a female nocturne child standing in the small clearing with the last of their clothing. "GIVE ME THAT!!" Medwick shouted as he grabbed the sash that was hanging from the mess in her arms, the girl screamed and giggled as she ran off with the rest of the cloths.

Shardis and Caoimhe exchanged looks then shook their heads as they made their way back to the village. Without going too far they were met by a young woman with clean cloths and she offered them up with a smile. Although Shardis refused them, Caoimhe sifted through the mess and found a beautiful striped cloth made of what looked to be a spiders silk of some sort that brought out the color in her eyes. Some sandals and a few other things and she was 'Ready for the party!' as Shar put it.

Medwick had chosen what looked liked a tie-died dark blue-green cloth of a similar fabric as Caoimhe's then after draping it the way he liked, he tied his sash with an angry tug while glaring at the two daring them to say a word. They seated themselves and were each passed a large piece of the grub and some fruit as well as a gourd of what looked to be juice. There was also a plate of some fried bugs that looked like grasshoppers, only larger, and a few other things that Shardis wouldn't even guess about. All-in-all, a really good meal!

Shardis wasn't sure of the etiquette for the table so She waited for the 'chieftain' to give her a clue as to what was next.

 

[Kooriryu]

Ilium Athenaeum - Minora Arcana Wing, limegreen

Kozoul the Riven witch, Edelon

The bee keeper felt exhilaratingly emboldened after aiding in the preservation of the Aviary. Her magic could alter so much more than removing the pesky weaselvine or curing gout. She had bid Brothers Brrz farewell, giving the Great Bee the laurel the Avians bestowed upon her to bring ever more prestige and honor to the Riven hive. Hopefully the Hivequeen would forgive straining Her favor as much as she did, at least Brrz and the other Great Bees who helped would be too busy partaking of royal jelly to harbor any resentment to the witchling.

Hubris does not become you, half-elf. Your growing arrogance will lead others to their unearned deaths.
It will lead to yours soon enough and then we will be free of you. Hahahahahaha... !
​

The half`kin's face blanched momentarily the Hagmother's voice had died down in her exploits across Viridos but now at the moment of fulfilling her dream to visit the libraries of Edelon, in the quiet of her own bliss her long-time mentor's voice had resumed its full rancor ringing in the witchling's head. She pulled out the medallion that would allow her access to the more private wings in the library. Kozoul herself was a coin a dozen amongst the other scholars, mages, and acolytes streaming all over the library grounds. Many were standing in groups, practicing mudras while philosophizing languidly. Others were standing in mudras under the campus' many trees, obviously full of the knowledge they consumed earlier and now were calmly digesting in the comfort of tree shade.
It was all so wonderful to see and now be a part of. If only for her brief time in Edelon.

Kozoul palmed the medallion and tucked it safely into a hip satchel, she had yet to check into her scholar's quarters on the library grounds to start her studies in earnest. The riven witchling tottered off to the registrar's office, a tinkling and jingling mass of bags, sacks, and purses full of vials, bottles, and flasks amid books, journals, and records.

——————————————————————————

The dwelling was small, its furnishings minimal obviously a physical echoing of the mental and spiritual cleansing so many who had used the room for had done previously. In an effort to get a headstart in achieving her own cleansing Kozoul did her best to set aside her tools, books, and assorted baggage neatly along the corner shelving while doing her best to quiet Hagmother Drala's voice.

Powerful knowledge should only be shared to those who have the will to wield it. You will wreak destruction in you paltry attempts to control that which you have no business tampering with half-elf, death be upon those in your wake... !
​

Shaking her head vigorously, Kozoul quickly sorted out a smaller bag to take with her on her outing into Edelon proper, she had bartered a month's worth of study in the libraries with the Lady Ironblood and there was so much to do and see and learn. She stepped out from the small, spare hut and idly took out the small crystal hidden in her sleeve. It shone quietly in her palm, she was sure it wasn't a part of what kept the Aviary afloat so she had seen no harm it jostling out of the broken rock as she and the others rested before the laurel ceremony. The Aviary's firmament was born out of the rocks in Viridos so, really, it wasn't as if she was stealing alien earth of an entirely different country.



The day was starting to wane and so Kozoul pocketed the tiny crystal and made her way off the library campus, she had heard that Edelon had a vast selection of teas to try. Meeting up with her library guide could wait for a chance to try some of the variation Viridos offered. The moment she stepped off the roughly cobbled area delineating the campus from the village life outside of it a gaggle of monkeys skittered past her feet chattering loudly as one held a mango away from the others as it ran. Before her she saw two old forestkin overlooking three cows standing in the shade of a long-branched tree, a vendor idly fanning the small stove that kept a pot of bubbling tea adjacent to them. It might be a freshly brewed batch... with that assumption, Kozoul started towards the the tea merchant, scholars of all disciplines ran on tea after all.

In the distance, the hazy shadow of the temple buildings where the Cinnbar Clad met with the Jade Prophet passed the witchling's peripheral vision. The haunting sound of its bells gliding through the air, a reminder to pause for reflection that rang out through all of Edelon.

​

 

[DotCom]

Aerie - Fuck Knows Where, darkred

Aerie, on principle, made a habit of avoiding the words 'wrong', 'regret' and 'hindsight' out of some mild, probably misplaced concern that any who happened to overhead might think she was referring to herself. She, of course, was not. She had been raised by one of the greatest Avian inventors in a century. She was not wrong.

She just...lacked foresight sometimes.

No sooner had Kozoul jumped ship than Aerie found herself back almost precisely where she started. Granted, she had only a vague idea of where she was -- the Aviary, she'd overheard, had docked somewhere in northern Viridos, far enough from Hosia that trade routes and relief efforts were being considered 'jeopardized' at the very least. She'd been far too concerned about getting out of dodge, at whatever cost.

That cost currently stood at little to no baggage, and no plan to rejoin the others whatsoever, save asking door to door if anyone had seen a limping human, his giant cat, and a possibly feral girl with a maybe-baby. She'd be lucky if they thought her joking and not just crazy.

But still. Not only had she made a full fucking circle, somehow turned around completely and headed back Pegulis-way, but she had done so with a whole new group of companions.

At least these seemed less likely to die as the former traveling buddies of the Matchstick's Ghoul Sage.

It almost made it bearable the first few times they used the word 'pal' in her vicinity.

"Barvelle is days north, at least. I wonder if we couldn't try doing the whole 'small talk' thing in turn," Aerie snapped irritably. Two days' travel had taken them far enough from the Aviary that going back now would be both a hassle and an embarrassment. No, if she wanted to save her pride, she was on her own.

"Now, look, we're coming up on a village of non-Hosians. I don't suppose either of you have spent much time out of the city?"

Silence. Of course they were being silent now that she had a question.

"Right, so it's unlikely they'll just invite us in. I'm going to take the bee and do a little spying. You two'll be able to get closer without the buzzing, so long as you keep the chatting to a minimum," she added, casting as fierce a look as she could manage over the other two Avians, "but be ready to fly if they start...I dunno, singing about sacrificing you to a moth or something."

The three mounted up (or something like it) climbing up through layers of subcanopy, their eyes trained on the village below and a large fire at its center where three exceptionally pale figures flailed like idiots.

Very familiar idiots...

"Oh, shit, hide!" Aerie hissed, guiding the bee onto a branch and away from prying eyes, beckoning for Nyashi and Adelita to join her.

Both stared at her with wide, uncomprehending eyes.

"What?" Adelita ventured after a long, pregnant silence.

Aerie rolled her eyes and tried to figure out how to cram her three-week journey with a handful of wayward (mostly dead) Pegulians into digestible terms her new companions would understand.

She settled on the next best thing. Jerking a thumb over her shoulder, she made her voice sound almost conspiratorial.

"Tall guy in the middle," she muttered. "With the weird, fetish-y harem? We used to fuck. Small world, huh?"

 

[E.T.]

Entering an unknown village was not anywhere close to the top of Caoimhe's things I really wanted to do today list. But she could feel her stomach forming a hard knot beneath her ribs, and even if she was familiar with that knawing feeling she knew that if they wanted any hope in reaching their destination they would have to find something to eat. And at this point that meant trying to find someone who was better at hunting and foraging in this strange land than they were. So in the end they had to approach the village. Nervously she waited at the edge of the canyon, pawing at her backpack as once again Medwick was left to do the talking. It wasn't that she doubted his negotiation abilities it was just that he had not had the best of luck thus far, to be fair Shardis or she would probably have probably gotten them killed long ago if they had been left to do the talking. That being said her mouth almost dropped open when she saw Medwick trying strike a one legged pose on the narrow log bridge. She had watched him limp all a cross creation and so she knew very well at this point that his balance was not something to be commended. To be fair he managed very well, but accompanied with a heat and hunger induced exhaustion she almost covered her eyes expecting to hear his scream as he plummeted over the edge.

So it was to her astonishment that they were quickly ushered into the village. Not that she was really complaining, the smell of food roasting on a fire was making her stomach growl and cringe. She made it only a few steps before she was greeted by a pack of the village dogs. Most were a dark splotchy brown, with satin coats, and pointed ears that curved inwards until the tips almost touched. While she was greeted calmly from much of the pack one of the dogs took it upon himself to try and prove his dominance over her. Tail arching over his back and eyes lock onto hers the dog took three stiff legged steps forward his meaning very clear. Puffing out her chest Caoimhe met the challenge with a fierce glare of her own. After a minute of silent posturing the dog finally backed off and sulked off through the village allowing her to join Shardis and Medwick as they were guided through the village.

An excitement radiated through the village, whether fro their arrival or from the village's own affairs it was impossible to tell. Either way it was infectious and it did not take long for them to get swept up into a dance. For the first few steps Caoimhe's movements were jerky and mistimed but it was not long till she fell into step. Had it not been for the egg in her pack and the hunger pulling at her stomach she might have really gotten into the little display. When they were finally allowed to stop she flopped down next to a couple logs that were being used as seats, moving her back pack to her lap as she did so that she could lean back. She had barely settled before an older woman drew close and made some odd gestures with her hands and nose, this seemed to incite some general agreement from the rest of the villagers and they were quickly led away to a small stream. For the first time in what seemed forever they were given a chance to just wash, clean the grim and sweat from their skin. Shardis and Medwick wasted no time in getting clean while Caoimhe was a bit more cautious, making sure that her bag stayed dry. Upon leaving the water she spotted the bowl of ointment and after a bit of smelling and cautious poking Medwick finally told her that it was supposed to be rubbed on the blisters, sores, and infections that had become the bane of their existence. As Medwick tended to his ailments Shardis and she made their way back to the village. They were met by a girl perhaps a year or two Caoimhe's senior who was carrying an arm load of clothes. Although Shardis refused, after a bit of ruffling around Caoimhe found a silky shirt colored with neutral grey stripes. With dark colored pants and sandals she was starting to feel half way decent for the first time in nearly a week. The only thing that would make her feel better would be food, and to her delight it looked all the world like they were going to be treated to a feast.

It took all of her self control to keep from diving into the food face first, instead forcing herself to wait for some signal that they would not be breaking some cultural taboo before she started stuffing her face. As she waited one of the village dogs that had settled down a few feet behind her raised his head and let out a low bark of alarm. Attention caught Caoimhe looked over her shoulder just as the Chieftain stood.

"Lalara celda celra rada rada rara" With a voice like the rustling of leaves the Chieftain nearly sang the words. The old Forest kin moved around the fire as though being buffeted by unseen waves, bobbing and weaving. With wide sweeping movements the Chief brandished a staff of twisted wood, polished by the touched of a hundred hands, the top chattering and clicking with the teeth and bones of animals that had no name. With a graceful twirl the Chief turned to face the fire swaying in time to an unheard rhythm. One hand uncurled and reached upwards towards the sky stretching out as though seeking to grab something although the gnarled fingers never closed.

Almost as one the entire village raised their plates their faces tipped back, eyes closed. This took the party by surprise, as they sat, the only ones beside the dogs that hadn't made a move to raise their bowl. Suddenly Medwick felt something tap his ribs and he looked down to see the same little girl that had nearly walked away with his sash looking up at him from where she sat. The little girl had lowered her bowl barely an inch and when she saw she had Medwick's attention she raised it up again closing her eyes earnestly and tilting her face towards the sky. Slowly Medwick raised his own bowl and was rewarded with a smile before the girl closed her eyes again. Seeing that her brother was joining in Shardis raised her bowl as well but like Medwick she kept her eyes open. There was an almost awkwardly long pause as Caoimhe still did not raise her own bowl, fearing that the distance would make it all to easy for someone to snatch something from her plate. Both Medwick and Shardis had to shoot her a meaningful look before she reluctantly raised her plate.

For a few long moments they stayed like that, the whole of the village swaying in unison.

"Yrad!" Like that the silence was broken, plates were lowered and the feasting began. The seemed to be little order to the way the villagers ate, some ate with the hands using their fingers to scoop up their food and using their teeth to cut, some used small wooden knives to spear their food and transfer it to their moths, and a rare few had meticulously carved spoons that they used to shovel the food into their mouths. The air was once again filled with chatter and while there was much pointing and glances in their direction the villagers seemed content to leave the hungry party to themselves for the time being.

 

[Peregrine]

CHELENA-HOSIA, cyan

The Silver Wing was as busy as ever. In the end, that was how Chelena managed to find the place. It shouldn't have been possible for the city to change so much in just a few days, but ultimately it had. The remains of the Aviary had created blockages where once there were none, and new pathways where before there hadn't been. As the citizens rebuilt they took to these new paths naturally, and worked to rebuild. Of course, it didn't help that in several places the walking path diverged so far from the water path that even Chelena could no longer quite tell in what direction it was.

Eventually, she was forced to stop and ask a young man where the place was. He was willing enough to point her in the right direction, but his mother, a wrinkled old creature, walked out at the end of the directions.


"They'll never take you." the crone cackled after the fleeing Chelena. "They only like the pretty ones!"

To make herself feel a little better, Chelena stopped and grabbed a colorful flower that was growing on top of a fallen log, and wove it into a chunk of her hair. Its sweet color swirled through the air, and for a minute she crouched in some shade to admire it fully. She felt a little guilty for taking it, but ultimately decided that the pleasure it was bringing her right now was worth it.

When she finally found the doorway for which she was looking, Chelena happily bolted through it immediately. The sun was starting to severely aggrivate her burns once more, and though she cared little for the pain the words of the grumpy woman were still haunting her. What if they really would not take her?

The place was, as ever, filled with the colors of lovemaking. As pleasurable as they might be when experienced personally, there was something rather disgusting about them when observed by another. Chelena carefully stepped a few feet further into the room, when the bouncer who had been hovering behind the door decided to reach out and try and grab her. Chelena spun out of the way, her expression fierce. It was enough to cause the guard to halt briefly.


"What do you want, wench?" he spat at her.

"I need to see Belphebe," Chelena replied boldly.

The guard laughed, passing a cruel and critical eye over her figure. "There is absolutely no reason for you to see her."

Chelena puffed up in indignation, before purposely turning and walking away from the man. She knew where Belphebe's office was. She didn't need anyone to escort her there this time.


"Hey!"

He tried to grab her again, but he was certainly not used to bouncing anyone as lithe and determined as Chelena. She dipped her shoulder just enough that his hand missed, and continued to walk. Although her stride did pick up a little bit.

One of the other guards, who had been watching their interaction from a distance, finally decided it was time to get involved. He darted through the crowd of pairs, and confronted Chelena from the front. She practically ignored his big figure, until the last instant, when she spun sideways,twisting about his solid form. He tried to grab her, but only caught the tail end of her hair.

She made it halfway across the room before the rest of the members of crowd control in the room made it over to her. They came at her from all sides, and, to her surprise, a forest kin who had seemed entirely more interested in what he was doing with the pretty young girl on the table before him reached out and grabbed her as well. Whether or not he wanted to stop her, or just thought that he could get two for the price of one would never be known, because one bouncer looped his hands around her chest and pulled her towards him. For a moment it seemed like Chelena's chance at getting to see Belphebe and recover something of her life before was over. But, in a sudden, unexpected movement Chelena threw her legs over the back of the man, twisting wildly in her arms. He would have been able to hold onto almost anyone else, but Chelena writhed and twisted as fluidly as Vethe, crawling over his back, hooking her legs over his neck, and spring-boarding off of his face. He yelled loudly as his nose snapped, and a shower of blood sprayed over the people in front of him.

Chelena winced once before all hell broke loose.

All of the bouncers tried to tackler her at once, and she only just managed to flip away over her heads. Those patrons who were not too distracted to notice the growing brawl formed into a ring around Chelena and started cheering. They were here to fuck, but a good fight was always welcome as well. The bouncers growled and grunted and swore as they did everything in their power to hold onto her. Only Chelena remained perfectly silent, focusing desperately as the growing noise of colors made it harder and harder for her to determine from where exactly her attackers were coming.

"What is going on!"

For an instant there was perfect stillness as every eye turned towards the back corridor, where Belphebe was standing. She was at her full and towering height, her expression anything but benevolent. Both patrons and guards shrank back. Only Chelena remained where she was.

For a moment, as Belphebe looked at her, she did not recognize Chelena. The only emotions she had was irritation and a touch of disgust. Chelena, who had been hiding in the woods for the past week, had no way of knowing exactly how feral she looked. Her hair was twisted and matted, and the flowering fungus was not the only thing nesting in her hair. Her usual cerulean markings were hidden under layers of dirt, and the burns all over her face and body gave her the look of one horribly disfigured. What remained of her clothes was tattered and stained in blood. Even Vethe had changed subtly, although the fact that the snake was currently hiding under a table would have made it impossible to identify her by her Aux.

Recognizing the futility of her original plea, Chelena changed tactics in an instant. "Carus is dead."

Belphebe's eyes went wide, and suddenly she seemed to recognize Chelena as the pretty young nocturne who had come to her office with a golden-haired avian less than a week ago.

"Bring her to my office," the draken commanded. This time, Chelena was more than willing to oblige with their requests.

As soon as the two women were left alone in Belphebe's office she seated herself and turned to Chelena. "How did he die?" She asked, voice soft.

Chelena relayed the events almost without emotion, her broken monotone hinting only faintly at the pain that had consumed her for the past week. She was efficient in her telling, but left out very few details. Unknown to her, the only person in the world who could direct her to Carus' grave was sitting in the kitchen, begging with the love of his life.

When Chelena finished her story, there was silence for a moment. "Why are you here?" Belphebe finally asked, a touch of businesslike mannerism returning to her.

"I... need a place to stay, and heal. Just until I can buy a few scarves and start dancing again. I'll work if you make me, or to repay any debt my time here places on me."

Belphebe was silent for a moment, contemplating the situation. There was no doubt that the Nocturne was desperate, and, although she may not look it now, she was a pretty enough creature. Her flexibility certainly might beguile a few of her customers.

Finally she reached a decision. "Ferret!" Belphebe shouted, and a familiar face opened the door. "Get her cleaned up."

 

[unanun]

The day before Ironblood's trial, #00b300

The rhythmic, sharp cries of working metal faded as Naya walked up the riverbanks into Edelon, replaced by low, creaking sounds. Branch bridges grunted under the weight of footsteps, heartwood groaned in the limbs of forest-kin as they moved about, and water trickled from a thousand streams and troughs.

The sounds of the city were muted, the quiet chanting even more subdued than usual. Barges laid still along the canals that connected parts of the city. Baskets were not toted around on the antlers of forest-kin, and no one was watching the crops grow. Only the young ones were out in any number, playing with the animals or splashing in the water. The rest of the city held its breath, for tomorrow was Ironblood's trial. Amaltas returned, Tattersal assumed prominence in the sanctum, and the Aviary crashed in northern Viridos. Great shifts abound.

A massive holding cell

Naya approached the cell. The sun shone bright through the canopy, and the city was still alive, if not a bit quiet. But she moved on tip-toe, hair wincing and curling every time a twig snapped underfoot.

A brightly green, grizzled man storms out of the cell. Naya is shocked, and grips the handle of her sword. The action elicits a visage of respect from Tattersal. At last, someone who is not afraid to hold a weapon. His mood remains foul, though, when he notices the the supple armour wrapped around her body.

"Little greenling," Tattersal stands over her, imposing, "of the Kindly Ones." Naya's hair shrinks back, then grows as long as the ground, hiding her face and body. She is unable to decide between being shocked or intimidated. Despite his mood, however, Tattersal does not emit any hostility. How could he, towards the only remnant of the military that Viridos once had?

"You will need to decide where your loyalties lie in the upcoming days." Tattersal strides off, opening the path to the cell, a massive tree with an even larger root system, natural gnarly bars behind where the criminal lies in holding.

Naya took a deep breath, peaking out from behind her hair as it shrunk back to normal length. Their meeting was too sudden and short, but Tattersal's face was burned in her mind, an ancestral reminder of a former leader.

She moved towards the cell, and shuffled between the hooded roots. The dread unicorn stood imprisoned behind them.

"Tattersal's child, you will be no more successful than he was -- " A few stray beams glinted off her golden saber, illuminated the dull green of her Shansheng armour.

"You."

 

[Saphen]

Lapin and Ash

Om considered the undertaker with deep thought, even though he was not the prophet one did not reach the higher echelons of society without a sharp mind. It is said that those who rule may do so under one of three beliefs.

To help others

To hurt others​

To grow in power​

It is also said that those who stay in rule follow all three. Om was indeed the Invader today, his conquest was that of truth and clarity. Rooted feet shifted in their discomfort as ancient eyes turned to the kindly one. "I am left with you to try and finish the puzzle Kindly One. Yet I sense an honesty in your demeanor that is unlike the rest please tell me why that is?" As Om phrased his question he leaned forward, a creaking sound echoed through the air as powerful yet ancient sinew bent as his back lumbered forward. Lapin's mask hid her expressions but her demeanor was as honest and open as a book.

She stepped forward, the only one to do so in the trial and everyone in attendance noticed. Every step sent an echo fluttering through the crowds before she stopped several feet in front of Ash. Lapin clenched her first, all fingers of her right hand were closed tightly save for her thumb. She moved it close to her face, letting her thumb run over the mouth of the mask, it was the Mudra for silence. Like all Mudra there were many variations of the same concept, silence could mean one of many things. A teacher asking her students to be quiet, a mother hushing her babe so that robbers would not hear, but this one meant defiant silence.

The crowds gasped, many of them holding one hand and brushing the other on top of it, it looked like they were trying to get dirt off themselves but that was not the case. They responded to her Mudra with one of their own, the Mudra for guilty. Whispers became conversations, conversations became shouting, shouting became anger and Om could only stomp his foot in a futile attempt to silence the room.

"Lapin of the Kindly ones do you understand what you do? Do you understand your silence is an act of defiance to this very trial? Lapin?! ARE YOU EVEN LISTENING??!!" The invader's fury poured forth from his lips but Lapin did not care for his anger. Her slender form turned and looked at Ash, even though she wore a mask the undertaker knew she was talking to him.

Lapin's right hand signed quickly, mudra after mudra in quick succession, she was using them as a quiet language that was difficult to follow. Ash watched carefully, his head tilting in confusion but then he realized she was repeating a few mudra over and over again.

Don't, Trust, Anyone. These were the signs that Lapin gave him over and over again. Two fingers darting right for Don't, the same two fingers splitting and standing like trees for Trust, and all of her fingers dancing for Anyone. Over and over until he nodded in understanding, but before Ash could respond a member of the crowd screamed wildly causing everyone to turn their gaze...even Ash looked for a moment.

A distraction thought the undertaker and when he turned his head back to Lapin...she was gone.

 

[unanun]

The salves. The salves. They almost helped.

Medwick's face reflected a light sheen from the large communal fire around which they sat. It was not from the sweat, nor from the humidity, nor the heat, but from an incredibly relaxing and soothing salve that covered his face. For the first time in days, his skin was not drawn tight over his body by boils and other allergic reactions to the pollen. Who knew that plants could be used to fight plants?

"ACH---GRNNNNNG!" To keep from spraying grub out of his mouth, he had to choke back another mouthful. It was a rubbery, tasteless mouthful, but when it slid into his stomach, his body acknowledged it as food. A nearby tribesman jumped at his sneeze. Apparently, allergies weren't a thing in Viridos. Medwick practiced a smooth gesture, a mudra of calming. The tribesman relaxed.

Medwick was a quick learner. The moment he realized that mudras could substitute for communication, he had learned horribly fast. He had spent an inordinate amount of time with the chieftain, arm wrapped around his waist and chin resting on hand, fingers momentarily flickering in the air to pause the chief and gesture for a re-do. The chieftan was wise, and because he was wise he was graceful - he could see that Medwick learned to communicate more and more with each mudra he performed. Questioning, silence, hospitality, warding, warning. For once, ever since this journey started, he was able to do something he spent at least half his life doing: learning.

Gulp. Swallow. Medwick rotated his shoulder, still delighted in its recovery. "We may need to ask them, somehow, to refill our waterskins and rations, and for directions. I didn't get us into this village so we could eat a last meal before going back to wandering the forest."

"So ask." Wolf girl brushed her backpack.

Medwick nearly chocked on his next bite, and it wasn't from allergies. "I get us in here by imitating a Deer Wizard, and you want us to push our hospitality with an isolated group of forest natives, with an alien culture, who only respond to certain poses." Was he the only one feeling nervous here?

"Easy."

"Easy."

"Easy. Repeat what you did before."

"Did the pollen block your ear canals? The tantra (an unfortunate mis-transliteration) is for questionin --"

Silence. Medwick turned inward, frowning in deep thought, paused mid chew.

 

[E.T.]

​

"...The damage from the flooding has been repaired but we are starting to run low on some of the goods that we get from Kaustir." Ferret gave the report quickly her eyes glued to a speck on Belphebe's desk, refusing to meet her Mistress's eyes. Long tuned to her servants mannerisms Belphebe waited patiently for several seconds before removing her pipe from her mouth and giving it a slight twirl.

"Anything else." she said making it very obvious that she was not asking a question. Ferret swallowed nervously unsure as to whether the news she was about to deliver was going to put Belphebe in a foul mood.

"S-some of the girls have reported that some of their things are missing." She stammered out.

"Hmph, they probably gave it to a sweet talker who promised to take them away from here." Belphebe said with a short bark of laughter sticking her pipe back into her mouth and turning her gaze to the papers laid out on her desk.

"We-well I f-found some things in the guest room." If Ferret was anymore nervous it was seriously doubtful as to whether she would be understandable. But from the way Belphebe looked up it was quite clear that she had understood very clearly. Timidly Ferret dodged forward and placed a single scroll on the desk before she retreated back to a safe distance. With a dark look on her face Belphebe plucked the scroll up with one scaly hand and slowly unfurled it. It took a few moments for her to recognize exactly what she was holding in her hands but when she did the look on her face changed. Switching from a dark promise to something that could almost be described as intrigued.

Since she had opened this place she had had the same old forest kin woman in charge of filing and coding. As far as anyone knew the woman had no home, no family, no friends aside from Belphebe. There was also the little fact that the woman was probably one of the lightest sleepers in Viridos, and was so crotchety that most were under the distinct impression that her heart had been replaced with a shriveled up cluster of fungus. And yet, here in Belphebe's hand was a scroll baring an ornately drawn flower, unimportant except that she recognized it as coming from a chest only a few feet from the Forest Kin's bed.

"Where is Chelena now?" Belphebe asked still looking at the paper with a keen interest.

"I think she is finishing her dance." Ferret replied, very confused as to the sudden switch in her Mistress's mood but relieved that it had not changed to anger.

"Tell her to come here." She said. And Ferret needing no more instruction darted from the room, the soft tap of her feet on the floor boards audible all the way down to the end of the hall before it became to faint to hear. She left so quickly that she missed the soft words that Belphebe next whispered. "There is much to discuss..."

 

[lynzy]

​

**********************************************************
The taste was sublime! Shar licked her muzzle repeatedly after eating her third helping of grub, crunching down a whole plate of those grasshopper things and trying out all of the other edibles on the table. She practically purred with contentment.

The 'juice' had been a disappointment though since it had a rather fermented flavor and was obviously an alcoholic beverage. Through some pantomime and showing interest in what a little boy was drinking she ended up with a watery white liquid that was sweet, light and rather refreshing without the hazards of alcohol. Some of the villagers giggled at her choice of drink and others reveled at her ability to put down so much food.

After eating the villagers went about their basic daily lives, preparing for bed, sitting around fires chatting, laughing and even a few songs were heard. Mothers were putting sleepy children to bed and men were telling tall tails about 'the one that got away' or the latest catch. Even though they spoke a different language and they lived apart from other cultures, anyone could see the basics of life were the universal truth of any family, even these.

When Medwick spoke up about filling canteens and rations, Shardis remembered something she had done earlier but had been too busy getting clean, fed and itch free to talk about. She had managed to get that info across to one of the boys that had been tailing them around the village. The supplies were already and waiting for them, sitting in a corner of the hut they were assigned to for the night.

Medwick inspected the rations, water and other items with a fine tooth comb then turned to Shar with a puzzled look, "How did you tell them what we needed? I could barely say hello..." He scratched his head in a perplexed manner as Shar shrugged and said, "Really, it wasn't that hard. I just pointed at things or pantomimed and grinned like a fool when they brought things we needed or frowned if it wasn't and well...it worked." She shrugged again then laid down on her bed of leaves covered in some kind of soft animal skins.

She had been the one to arrange for the supplies and needs for countless trips to Gods knew where, even at the drop of a pin! Still he treated her like a child and was surprised when she had arranged for there needs and comfort once more. She sighed and closed her eyes trying to think of calming things like fields of ice and snow with a crisp wind that smelled of sheep, caribou and other wonderful scents. It didn't work though, her mind kept coming back to the way he always yelled at her, treated her like she was too ignorant or whatever to be of much use...always she was taking his insulting manor when he talked about her of late as if she was a sex slave or a body guard with other uses. She was getting fed up with it all. But now wasn't a good time to start a fight so she just rolled over and snuggled into her bed deeper and prayed for sleep that did finally come in the wee hours of the night.

 

[Peregrine]

CHELENA-HOSIA, cyan

For the first several days of her time at the Silver Wing Chelena was kept hidden in a back room, where she would be allowed to heal. To her immense frustration those who had been assigned to watch her kept her from exiting the building, as even a touch of sunlight would be enough to undo much of her healing. They knew nothing of her war on the sunlight, or the unfortunate consequences of her missing her daily exposure. All of the fighting she had done to earn these burns would be lost.

She snuck out at random points each day, not because she wished to spit on Belphebe's generous allowance to stay here, but simply because she could not give up her fight. It grew harder and harder as the hours rolled by, but she was creative enough that there was almost nothing they could do to keep her in one place forever.

It was on her second journey back to her room, after having crawled across the side of the building after sunbathing on the roof for a few minutes, that she took her first thing. It wasn't much of a stealing, a small, undecorated hairpin that was sitting on the dresser of the room through which Chelena had entered, but she gladly switched it out for a piece of a bird's egg that she had found on the roof.

It was to be the first of a growing number of thefts as the days progressed. As Chelena slowly gathered more and more possessions, many of them random tidbits that she had found outside and could be taken without her leaving something in return, she started rebuilding her collection of colors with meticulous care. One serious fight was instigated between two of Belphebe's girls when a decorative sash one girl had lost one morning was found in another girl's room later that same day. Chelena watched the fight from the sidelines, uncertain as to why they were fighting over the item. There were many more colorful things in the place, things that Chelena planned to get her hands on as soon as possible.

Her greatest theft thus far came a few nights later, when she left a moon-shaped earring, a warm sock, and a vial of perfume in place of a small scroll that practically glowed with color. Chelena had been forced to climb her way through the ceiling and hang down by her toes to get the thing, but it had been well worth it. She left it carefully rolled up on her bed when she left the next morning, finally deemed well enough to join some of the girls on the floor.

They gifted Chelena with several of her scarves. They were not the ones she would have picked, but she took them gratefully, especially since she now knew where the scarves were, and could trade out items for the better ones later. She was blissfully happy to start dancing again, and this attitude showed clearly in her movements.

It didn't take much for her to transform her normal movements for dancing on the streets into something that would enchant the watching audience. All she did was use the movements of her scarves and her own body to mimic some of the colors that filled much of this house continually. She started slowly, drawing her shawls in and out around her in an eddying motion, but slowly she sped up, moving faster and faster until it seemed that she must trip over one of the scarves or her own twirling limbs. But she was flawless, and any residual burn on her skin that had not quite healed was hidden behind the bright colors that seemed to glow around her as she moved.

She left the stage breathless and satisfied, pursued by the eyes of everyone in the audience, and even by the bodies of some. Belphebe had been right. She knew how to make her flexibility blissfully alluring to those who watched.

At that point, Chelena wasn't quite certain what to expect. If it was gentle and sweet, like it had been with Carus, she would follow through on the promise of her dance. But if it got rough and painful, well, it was very possible that Chelena would have to flee from this city for many years, before people forgot her face and body. She would certainly no longer have a place here.

Luckily, any worry over such a choice was taken away from her easily. Ferret face found her walking down the hallway, escorted by some of the bouncers that had tried to evict her a few days before.

"Belphebe wants to see you," Ferret face said, quickly pulling Chelena off down the corridor to Belphebe's office.

As soon as Ferret Face dropped her off in the office, the girl quickly cloed the door behind her, clearly intent on fleeing the room. Chelena, who had survived many a situation by imitating those around her, instantly longed to follow. There was nothing obviously dangerous in the room, but that could change quickly.

Belphebe studied Chelena for a moment, noticing her antsines, before gesturing that she should take a seat. Chelena perched lightly on the edge of the chair, studying Belphebe even more intently than Belphebe was studying her.

"Did you steal this?" Belphebe finally asked, gesturing at the flower scroll on her desk. Chelena let out a small breath of sorrow. She was to lose that possession so quickly. She had been planning on trading it out for some scarves this very night. All the same, Chelena shook her head. She had not stolen the scroll, as she had left behind the earring, the sock, and the perfume in exchange. She had matched the amount of color the scroll put into the room almost exactly, although the sock had not put out enough, and the perfume too much. Her balance was complete. By that, there was no problem with her taking the scroll.

"No," Belphebe repeated. She seemed to sense that Chelena was not lying to avoid trouble, but there was no way she could fully guess Chelena's logic. "Then how did you come by it."

"...I traded for it," Chelena finally answered.

"Without its owner's permission?"

Chelena shrugged. Experience had taught her that most people did not agree with her methods.

"Would you do it again?"

"I've already traded for the scroll. No need to do it again."

That almost earned a smile from Belphebe. "What about for a different scroll? One that I asked you to get. In exchange for other... colors."

Chelena nodded easily. That was a job certainly more preferable than the one she had been facing tonight.

"Then I may have a job for you," Belphebe said, a true smile slowly spreading over her face.

 

[E.T.]

Caoimhe was having a hard time seeing the trouble with Medwick's statement, Caoimhe was having a hard time seeing any kind of trouble, Caoimhe was having a hard time seeing in general. For while Shardis was well versed in the effects and taste of alcoholic beverages, Caoimhe was less familiar with the dangers of drinking more than she should. To that end at around her third glass a near by village woman had enough sense to switch the special "juice" with the milky liquid that Shardis had switched to much earlier in the night. But the damage was done, the earth pitched and rolled every time she tried to get up and try as she might her eyes wouldn't focus. Not that feeling bad, she just felt, watered down. Every emotion was mild and her actions were dulled.

It took her several minutes to realize that a girl from the village had settled behind her and was trying to tame the nest that she called hair. While this normally would have caused her to growl, move away, or do something to get back some personal space, her limbs felt as though they had been replaced with rocks and the single growl that she tried to produce emerged as a quiet snort that could easily be taken as her just trying to clear her nose. In any case it was a long while before the child was finally satisfied with the appearance of Caoimhe's hair. Hazy unfocused eyes managed to find Medwick and Shardis in the crowd and with a monumental effort she jolted unsteadily to her feet. She had to reproduce the movement a second time as she toppled over trying to pick up her back pack.

Getting to the hut that they had been provided was an adventure all on its own. Several villagers even paused to watch the spectacle as the wildling stumbled from hut to hut, leaning on each for support as she slowly made her way towards her own hut. Upon reaching it she tried to duck gracefully inside but ended up whacking her head on the door frame, getting a few good laughs from the villagers who were still watching her. Almost falling over backwards she lowered herself to her knees with a heavy thump and managed to crawl inside. Nearly treading on Shardis who was already bedded down from the night she made her way to the back of the hut. Finding the bedding that had been laid out for them she took a painstaking minute to remove her back pack and settle it between her and the wall before, with a quiet groan, she collapsed onto the bed. Surprisingly enough it took her a long while to fall asleep. The ground underneath her swayed as though she was back on that fucking ship and although she was sure noon was there the feeling of being watched made her skin crawl and made her adjust her grip around her back pack several times during the night.

Morning dawned far too early for someone who usually rose just before the sky lightened. A square of light managed to sneak in the door way and lit up the sleeping wolf girl's face causing her to wrinkle her nose and growl softly in protest. With slow painful movements she twisted her head around so that her face was buried in the crook of her arm right beside her back pack.

"Almost time to go." Came a voice from the direction of the doorway and Caoimhe felt Shardis's heavy paw gently shake her shoulder. Receiving a warning growl from the mostly asleep mass Shardis gave a shrug before ducking out of the hut again. A minute after she left Caoimhe finally gathered enough energy to push herself up. Light exploded in her vision as the blood rushed from her head, leaving her blinking dazedly in the early morning light. But even as her eyes focused there was still a steady pounding echoing in her head, drawing a soft groan from her as she reached up to rub her forehead with one hand, ending the gesture by dragging her hand over her hair. To her great surprise her usually ragged mess of hair was soft and had been carefully pulled back in a series of five braids, with two on either side and one large one in the middle. For few seconds she wondered just how much she was forgetting of last night before she decided that she wouldn't worry about it.

Having fallen asleep in the clothes that had been gifted to her yesterday the process of getting ready consisted of grabbing the portion of supplies that she was going to carry and finding a spot for them in her pack. Near the door way there was a wide bowl filled with water and although her move tasted like she had been chewing mouthfuls of straw she used the water to wash her face off instead when she spotted the white and black hairs floating around. With hunger and thirst driving her up and out she left the hut with heavy feet, making her way towards the center of the village, hoping to find Medwick, Shardis, and something to eat and drink when she got there. As she got close she gave her companions a small wave and a very half-hearted smile, the boarded on a grimace. It was cleat that she was not going to be as sharp as she usually was this morning.