Viridos, Chapter 4

[unanun]

"Unpossible." Medwick squinted at the filled ration bags. "There is no way you could have convinced them to supply us, because I waved my hands, held shiny gems in front of them, and the only thing they responded to were the tantras."

He turned towards Shardis, his facial expression contorting at the same time with another sneeze. "You did something to them, didn't you?"

"Oh. Wait. That was Aerie's job."

He hitched the red sash around himself again, the clothes he was given a bit too baggy for it to be effective at holding it tight. "Is there even any reason that we are bothering to wash up?"

"We were dirty."

"THANKS." But Medwick's snap back did not have the bite that it used to. Perhaps, just perhaps, a dry bed, salve, food, and water that tasted like water had calmed him down. Caoimhe approached from a tent, and found the pair bristling at each other as usual. But their teeth were not as sharp, and death's glow had vanished from under their eyes.

The village seemed to have a timeless quality. The inhabitants rose with the sun, but some chose to sleep later. There was no set time for meals or for doing things; indeed, once the foraging was completed they seemed to lounge around without much to do. It was precisely this idleness that gave them sophistication, for they had mastered the art of drawing extremely intricate patterns on their bodies and in the ground (from deep memory). They also drew their patterns in the deepest, most iridescent purple and blue inks.

Medwick had actually spent a bit of yesterday trying to figure out how they manufactured it. "Why are you so interested in blue dye?"

"Do you know how rare it is for a living creature to possess blue or purple colouration?"

"The dragon ..."

Medwick's silence was so sharp, it killed off the nascent conversation, it bled exasperation.

They gathered at the village entrance, a pair of villagers once again leaning on their spears. The Barvelle sage awkwardly exchanged mudras with the one who had come to see him off. He removed the thermic gem from his sash, and assumed the questioning pose, slowing extending his free hand to deposit it on the villager's palm. The heat apparently convinced him; he left and returned with a small clay pot, which Medwick tied up intricately in a make-shift linen sash before slinging it around his shoulder.

Oh. Wait.

They still didn't know where the ocean was.

 

[Pastor ćhoi]

Amaltas, silver

First, there was before.

"Hello, Amaltas."

...

"I hope your accommodations are comfortable."

...

"Then again, what isn't after the Shartan Lab-"

"H̡̭̒̑͐͗͂͗̉h̙̬̗̠͜h̀̇̈́͏̮͇̠̰̫h̗̙͍̣̜͔̒̎͢h̲͉͔̜̫̬̾ͥ̒ͩ͑̓h̝̳̑ͫ̈́ͦͧ͞ŗ̈́ͪr̬͑ͫ̃ͫ͆r̷̘̪̜̓̌r̈ͣͪ̂҉̜̖ͅṛ̨ͫ̀̓ͧr͕̙͉͈ͪͦ͝a̸̱͛ͧa̋̑̒̒ͣ͘ȃ̵̖̐͐ͤͩ̚a̮̺ͦͪ͗̽a̸̩̒̐̆̒̐͊a̛͎̩̺̦̰̪ͅH͔̙̰ͭ̂ͦ͌H̝̖̫͇̓̾̓͂̓Ȟ̸̩͙͕̖ͣ̏Ḩ̟̭̮̥͇̓ͨ̏̓̈ͧH͇̱̳͗Ḩ̠̤̜͕̹͋"

"Those chains will hold, Amaltas. There are things beyond mere strength, Unicorn."

Ḣ̽̈́ͮ̍́h̟͙͍̹̭͍ͨ͂ͣ̑̓h̿͌̿ͪͫͫ̚҉̝̗hͣͤ͏̭̪̯h̼̤̄̽hͨͦͭ̅̔r̸͊̂ͦͬ̋ř̳̋ͭͣ͐̚r̛̮͕̫͕̼͈̭r̳r̹̘̝̮̺̗̯̿ȧa̳̿̎̔̾͛͆ͣa̜̥̜a͔͋͆ͩ

"I've come to talk, though they say you cannot anymore.

...
"I do not believe that."

You believed wrong then. Sod Off.

"Much has happened between now and then."

Much remains that needs to die. Are you on that list?

"You can issue ill-made threats to a friend-

Ha. If friendship is magic, you have no talent for wizardry.

-or you can listen."

Age has not been kind to my ears. You must step closer.

"Your ears are quite close to your jaws."

That they are. I insist.

Remarkably, he did.

Maybe the Unicorn was inclined to visit one remarkable thing with another.

Or maybe not.

The great, wounded head surged forth, all speed and jaws, seeking green flesh.

Then, there was the present.

The clad talked. The clad murmured and gestured and sought to find consensus while the rest of the hall waited for their verdict.

And people waited in different ways.

Ironblood stood strong, composed, without motion; wordless, staring forward but not at anything. She was a statue in a sea of unrest and excitement. Mayhaps she knew of Illium as as the prophet knew Illium. Mayhaps her fate she trusted to the green goddess, as only a true believer could.

Her two remaining accomplices could not boast that kind of faith. Her two remaining accomplices could not match conviction against the thought of conviction.

Ash tried, yes, but much troubled him, and it showed in the furtive glances he gave the spot that once stood a certain kindly one. It showed in the way his fingers would absently find his heart, and it showed in the way he looked around a little too much, as if the thought of stillness was some vile disease.

And Amaltas...

To any experienced stablemaster, Amaltas was a mess.

Fidgeting, finding eyes in the crowd and staring them down, going up into a half-rear that led the closest kindly ones to drop their hands to their golden sheaths. Amaltas was a predator, and in this house of words, power did not favour him much here. His best weapons were kept down.

Maybe.

How does the saying go?

When you think of the past, imagine a boot upon a horse's head. Forever.

"I would think you would be inclined to listen now. Tell me I'm wrong, Unicorn. Tell me I'm wrong."

...

"Say it."

Kill me and be done with it. But I will not suffer you a second longer.

"I'm going have to decline your request. We have much, much, much to discuss."

Hello, how are your folks? Fine? Mine too. Right. We're done.

"Much more, I'm afraid. You heard of the aviary's situation?"

What's an aviar-

"You like your eyes? I like your eyes. Eye, sorry. Shame if this one should join the other."

...

"I talk. You listen. You respond. Are we in agreement?"

How can there be civility with your foot on my snout?

But he listened. Oh, he listened. And somewhere after Alate and Kaustir, he started actually paying attention to what was being said.

"Innocent." The invader proclaimed. "Ash of the heartwood, you are cleared of all charges. May The word guide your path, and may Illium smile upon you and yours." A mudra, then, one that either meant faggy deer or live long and prosper. The volatility of hydraroot was not the best medium for communication.

To his credit, Ash didn't collapse out of sheer relief. He returned the mudra, and shot another concerned look at Ironblood.

Her turn.

I want them all dead.

"No."

Their trade crushed, their children butchered. Their friends-

"No."

Yes.

"This is not a negotiation."

Then I don't have to hear any of this.

"You don't have to hear anything at all. Ever. That's what the Shartan is for. That's where you're going either way. The girl could survive this, the undertaker too, but you? No. Hear me, Amaltas. They will pay, but it will not be a genocide."

I have a special list. They must.

"And people will be crossed off, but not everyo-"

Not people.

...I see.

Yes.

The trial will be-

Just ensure it will be so. I will handle the rest.

"Guilty."

And Ironblood didn't even bat an eye.

"For your long years of service, we shall spare you the shartan, but your sentence shall-"

Bullocks. Release me.

There was a sudden tension in the room, and everyone felt it. The kindly ones tensed, the crowd found silence. Ash shot a hateful glance at Amaltas. The invader did the same.

"Your turn will come, Amaltas, but do note all your court antics and your little word jests will be held against-

RELEASE ME.

He was looking at Ironblood. She wasn't looking back. Rather, she was trying very hard not to look back.
Release me. They have wronged you. You are a bleeder, but the shade you cast is greater than these saplings. Release me and I will offer you this final service. Release me. Decades of faith and they condemn you for service. I understand. I know. The prophet is the true oak, but his disciples are barely the nuts on his tree. You know this. Release me.

"Hold your tongue, Amaltas. HOLD. YOUR. TONGUE. This is a house of Illium, a scared place, and a court of holy law. You will sully it no further with talk of violence! You will cease your slander about Illium's chosen, and she may still find it in her heart to grant you mercy in your sentence."

But Amaltas did not look at him. His eyes were only for Ironblood, and her response. Finally, she looked at him.

And shook her head.

I see. I apologize.

And Amaltas settled down, the aggression in his body and his voice sagging to defeat, an assurance that the rest of the trial would go on smoothly and his nuisance was thus ended.

...right before he exploded.

​

The little, silent songbird on his back found his horn, and his horn found the wards that surrounded him and scored across the length of them, slicing them cleanly in half. Everything else moved at a blur after he seized his quasi-pen by the mouth, ripped it off it's hinges, and flung it at the high clad seated above. It fell short of it's mark, crashing into a space that once had a crowd, as eager spectators now became terrified and did what terrified people did, and each squad of kindly ones formed a sort of protection circle around their assigned Clad, while the rest engaged the raging unicorn.

His hide was tough, but golden sabers were exceptional weaponry.

One found it's way across his flank, drawing sap from the wound, and he spun, and there was a young girl in false shangsheng, barely a maiden by his reckoning. His horn came at her and she went low as she dodged, her blade striking another glancing blow across his burned cheek. A second wound, by a second kindly one. Then a third at his lower left flank, and he lashed out, and his hoof hit something that was sent soaring through the air and crashing into the far wall.

A cry: "Cera!"

And with it, he found the second one. It was in his blind spot.

The great head came again, and the kindly one swung his saber, and he opened his mouth in a way that wasn't very horse-like, with teeth that weren't very horse-like either.

The sword found sap on his nose, then went for the side of his face, darting in and out as he lunged and drew back. They went back and forth, and then the saber struck through, slamming into his upper gums, and the kindly one sought to drove it up. Amaltas reacted appropriately.

He took it in his jaws. The saber, still stuck into his mouth, and then the arm.

Then he just took it.

Right off.

Of his shoulder.

Screaming. Always sap and screaming.

"Swear to me, Amaltas."

Familiar words.

No. No more oaths. Still smarting from the last.

"This one is simply for assurance."

And how can I trust you? You do not subscribe to the old root laws.

"I promise."

Ha.

"I'm not the one chained up."

Right.

"I'm looking to simpler times. Where the forest protected us from within, and we protected from without. Two halves, no more quarters."

So you say.

"And what I say is the truth. Swear it, and should my side falter in my obligations, let it be undone."

...I swear it.

"For Viridos."

For Viridos. I guess.

 

[unanun]

[ooc: volume DOWN!]

"You."

Naya shifted uncomfortably on her two feet, her hair growing and shortening on each side of her head in cadence. At the unicorn's deep and rumbling salutation, she gripped the sides of her armour tightly.

"There are no more legitimate sources of Shansheng armour left in Viridos." A broken horn gored the wood beams, but they did not splinter, merely flexing and absorbing the horse's attempt at scratching the charred husk. "So why is a sprat like you wearing a full set?"

"Unless ..."

"Khanaan. Khanaan spoke often of you. Like an old friend."

Her hair shrunk back in, military short. "You know where he is. Tell me!!"

Amaltas' laugh was rich and mocking.

"He's DEAD! Didn't you feel the leaves shiver? Someone plunged a dagger into his spine and he died, drowned in the river!"

"DEAD!"

Naya had already fled the cell, drops of rain falling behind her.

"Dead." Amaltas pawed the ground, scoring a deep mudra of mourning, his emotions etched into the furrows in the earth.

The trial of Ironblood, gold

It happened so fast. Naya stood in the galley - just an observer, not summoned as part of the judicial guard around the three accused. All in all, twenty Kindly Ones ringed the judgement platform.

​

Then, a the wall to her left was painted bright green and red. Naya slowly twisted her head to follow, eyes widening and widening in increasing shock as she watched a bunch of once-spectators blend together on the wall. The screaming quickly followed, and the gallery emptied, leaving only her and her buckling knees.

"RESTRAIN HIM."

Eighteen Kindly Ones surrounded the Unicorn, always attacking from opposite fronts, or from three sides. Amaltas gladly traded shallow cuts for the departure of a Kindly One. A golden saber cracked on his hooves as he gored the seventeenth One. The sixteenth perished after slashing the Unicorn on the snout with a saber glowing with Advent light, the energies burning his skin away. He screamed in pain and bucked. Probably, maybe a quarter of the wall in the judging area disappeared.

The battle was coming to the end. But then, a curious thing happened.

Om the Invader, was injured. His hydraroots thrashed as a flying piece of debris clipped in, throwing him back into the wall.

A pause. The remaining fifteen Kindly Ones retreated, leaving the Unicorn to pant and bleed.

"Protect the Clad." Tattersal's voice rang clear from his position on the panel. The Kindly Ones did not spare him a glance, but they did not obey him either.

Om's breathing was ragged in the standoff.

"Protect. The. Clad."

...

Their circle widened again, and collapsed into a semi-circle, putting all their bodies between Amaltas and Om, Stryx, and Kama. On the other side of the Unicorn was the gaping hole.

 

[DotCom]

Aerie - Wherever the Fuck, darkred

For all she'd envisioned sentimental reunions with someone, probably Shardis, squawking an aria in the background, their meeting over a fire was nothing of the sort. Aerie was on her own, having sent Nyashi and Adelita and their functioning wings back to the Aviary with her peace-laurel in tow. Caoimhe was hungover, Shardis was a Cat, and Meatnik...looked like he was about to start ranting, or else greeted her with a long and pregnant silence, which, for once, might have actually been worse.

So, Aerie went first.

"Where'd you all go? I turned around and you were gone. Were we not clear on the flying thing?"

One of the many campfires serving lukewarm forest sludge for breakfast crackled at her feet. There was little else to ease the tension.

Aerie blinked and tried again.

"So, we never had a team checkpoint...'cept for that one back in Pegulis, but that..."

She'd have laughed at the expression on Mitsink's face if it'd had been slightly less ghastly. There had been excitement, then, on both ends.

"You -- "

"I got you a boat."

He deflated like a burst and slightly started balloon, and Aerie could tell she'd at least temporarily deflected another tirade, which was really all she'd wanted in the first place.

It was Shardis who spoke next, wary, but interested. "What?"

"A boat," Aerie repeated. "Or a barge. Or a raft. Skiff. Dinghy." She looked back at Mintsoup. "Perhaps a canoe in the shape of you -- "

"Your vocabulary is just as impressive as ever," he said drily. "But we've got a ways to go down the river and I doubt sarcasm will keep us afloat."

"There's a joke in there about hot air somewhere," Aerie retorted, though she could feel the tension beginning to burn away, and only at the cost of all the favors she'd just accrued with the Aviary. "My point is I can get you a boat for the next part of your adventure."

Caoimhe said, "Your?" but Aerie pretended not to hear.

"And mine is that I'd rather not have to ask where you keep it."

Aerie gave a wry smile and pointed up and through a patch of empty canopy where the western edge of the Aviary could just be glimpsed through the trees. "I've been busy."

Something like caution and amazement flitted across Cat's snout. "Wait. You -- ?"

"Later," Markle, having squinted only briefly at the floating island. "And late, I might add. Just two minutes sooner would have...never mind. This boat. You're sure you can get it from the Avians?"

"I sent my people." Aerie shrugged. "They owe me some favors. Also, I have people now."

Maple looked unimpressed. "'Your people.' You just...what, sent them off into the blue? What assurance do you have at all you have their loyalty?"

"I gave them a pretty hat I was bored with," Aerie said, somewhere between bored and annoyed. "What assurance did you have?"

A flicker of something she couldn't read across his face. Maybe it was the scars. Probably the scars. "Clearly, I didn't."

Aerie made a face and gestured at Shardis and Caoimhe. "You had some. Besides, I came back. With boats, even."

Wolf Girl shifted behind him and Aerie had to curse to hide a smile, then smile to hide a curse. "You are staying?"

"I'm...right behind you," she said evasively, still watching Marckle. "A boat. Passage as far south as you can get before shit...well, goes south. Do you want it? Or not?"

"In exchange for what?"

Aerie rolled her eyes skyward and snorted to herself. "Call it payment for the asshole lessons." She nodded toward the fallen Aviary. "They help in a pinch."

It was, perhaps, as close to saying 'thank you' to Medwick as she would ever come.

 

[Zen]

Collaborative post with @Eternalfire61​

Row Row Row your Boat

The first day at sea was a tense one, and not just because the 'married' couple were scared they were would be found out by the Kaustir military, or that they were sailing on the Prosperus Sea, known for its magical and abrupt storms and waters. No, the tension was amplified because they were two strangers who were forced to look after each other for the sake of money, which when one thought about it, wasn't a good reason.

Later that evening, as the sun was setting in the horizon, Tamaa took another stab at conversation.

"So... Aside from your work, do you have any hobbies?"

"I collect sea shells." Nassad had his arms folded while he was laying back.

She blinked. "Wait, what? You're a slaver and you collect sea shells? That's not... Typical of your profession."

Another minute of silence.

"So are you married?"

Nassad cocked his head at the draken and chuckled. "I doubt any woman would want a slaver as their suitor. I am married to my money and my contacts. Their whims are what drives me."

"Well thanks for letting me know that you'd save me if my life was in danger."

She pointed behind her.

"So the sun is setting. Are we going to stay out here or...?"

"I'd prefer not to grow ill by the time we reached the Hosian shore. Shall we?" Nassad hopped to his feet then walked to the door, opened it, and waited for her to enter.

Tamaa raised an eyebrow. "Last I checked those quarters are not roomy. We'd really be on our honeymoon... Oh and I snore."

Crossed arms, rigid back, curled tail - it all said that the female draken did not want to go in there.

"If you'd prefer to feel the harsh cold of the sea, then be my guest, but I'd rather have my partner in good shape."

Nassad didn't care for the idea of sleeping in the closet like room. Being confined was a hardship for him, he hated being kept in tight spaces. Sadly, for this situation, he would have to cope.

"Your safety isn't only your concern now, it's mine."

Tamaa placed a taloned hand over her heart. "I'm touched you care about your partner. Really, it means so much to me. Unfortunately one of us has to be out here in case the waters turn treacherous, or do you know nothing about the ocean?"

"Then sleep in here." Nassad moved to Tamaa pointing his hand to the room. "I think I can handle myself out here for a couple more hours." At this point he was hoping he would at least be able to sleep without this woman making decisions hard.

Violet eyes narrowed in suspicion at the slaver, but Tamaa strode to the back of the ship with little argument. Sometime during the night he would come lay down with her in the tight quarters, but perhaps if she was sound asleep, his presence wouldn't bother her... She hoped anyways. Sleeping with strangers at a party was one thing, but sleeping with your partner in crime was simply unprofessional.

At the door, her tail whipped out and grasped the handle. "Call me if you need anything," and slid it closed.

Nassad nodded to the draken while looking at the fading sun. There was something about the sunset that Nassad hated, something that irked him to a point where he didn't wish to look at it. Most likely something deeper in his psyche that he didn't want to deal with.

Nassad reflected on the time he spent with Gwendolyn. It wasn't that long ago, but it felt as though he was still alive. This feeling was abnormal, almost foreign to Nassad. Sometimes his less human aspects clouded the quiet feelings he kept in a small box.

The cold air of the water soon became enough for Nassad. "Fuck it." Nassad went to the small room to sleep, hopefully there wouldn't be any comment from Tamaa.

Batten down the hatches!

The afternoon sun was obscured by dark, pregnant, storming clouds. The rain came down incessantly, hammering both the ship and its occupants. Nassad was at the steering wheel, desperately trying to prevent the ship from capsizing as strong waves pummeled the fishing vessel; Tamaa was preoccupied with shouting over the howling wind and rain.

"Do you know where north is?! You could be steering us back to Kaustir for all we know!"

"I'm trying my fucking best! Someone needs to get up on the mast and see how we're doing!"

Nassad had an idea of where they were going, but not to the greatest extent. The waters fought with him as he tried to keep the wheel under control. He knew this fight well, the struggle of a being lesser than the one he had to fight against. Unlike those situations he was the one who wasn't on top.

The waves bashed against the boat rocking the boat up and down. "Damn it!" Nassad did his best to keep the boat from capsizing.

She glanced at Nassad, at the mast, back at the slaver, and then at the mast.

"You're fucking kidding me right?"

"No I'm not! Get up there!"

"No!"

"YES!"

Her tail smacked angrily against the floorboards of the ship, jaws gnashed in frustration. She sank her talons into the wood of the mast and began the precarious ascent. Tamaa felt the sway of the ship as the waves pushed it back and forth, felt every creak as the ship fought to stay upright, and she felt the contents of her stomach rise to her throat.

At the top, Tamaa grasped the beam of the sail with her tail to balance herself. Through the sheet of rain, collapsing waves, and wind, it was nearly impossible to make anything out. But luck was with them, for the clouds parted, lighting a sliver of land.

"There! GO WHERE MY FINGER IS POINTING NASSAD!"

Nassad steered the ship toward where Tamaa was pointing. "Now that you have done your job, GET DOWN!" The fight raged on as they pushed forward, the waters ramming into the front of the boat. Water sprayed over Nassad's body making him angrier than he already was.

"If you want a fucking fight then you got one!" Nassad tried to keep the ship steady as Tamaa climbed down from the mast."

"You don't have to tell me twice!"

Climbing up was much easier than climbing down, especially when Tamaa was forced to look down. Limbs trembling not just from the height, but from losing heat, the draken descended the soaked mast, struggling to maintain her balance and footing. Talons slipped, water blurred her vision, and the howling wind reminded Tamaa of the power that nature had over all beings.

A burst of lightning, a crackle of thunder, and a massive wave sent the draken sprawling into the churning waves. Having never learned how to swim, and fatigued from the freezing temperatures, Tamaa struggled to keep her muzzle above the water's surface.

"FUCK!" Nassad shielded his eyes from the light of the lightning. She yelled for Nassad, desperately calling for help, and the commands were answered. Nassad's gauntlet glowed as his Advent unleashed a chain out toward Tamaa. "Grab on!" Nassad let the wheel go, moving toward the middle of the boat to help Tamaa onto the deck.

"Get your arse up here!"

Powerful talons latched onto the chains, heaving Tamaa out of the frigid water and onto the boat. Coughing and gagging upon the sea water, the draken lay on her side shivering from the cold. The normally greenish hue of her scales were paling from temperature loss, and she didn't have a thermic gem on her.

"Steer the... ship," she said through clattering teeth. "I'll take care of myself."

The chain retracted once Tamaa hit the deck. Nassad quickly returned to the wheel. He brought the boat back to it's path, trying to have it continue on it's path.

"I think we may be able to get past this storm! Try to stay warm, I don't want you dying just yet!"

The storm raged on as he kept the boat on a clear course. Sounds of the ocean crashing soon came to an end as the sun peaked through the clouds. The boat rocked as it finally came to the light, and it signaled an end for their struggle.

"Tamaa?"

But the draken was not where he left her. Instead, Tamaa was holed up in the sleeping quarters, curled into a fetal position on the floor boards, raggedy blankets wrapped around her. Despite removing all of her wet clothes, the draken looked paler than before and her breath was coming in shallow.

She was unresponsive to his cries.

Nassad had the boat on a steady course, and then he ran to Tamaa. He wasn't sure what to do, or how he would be able to help her. His time had been spent torturing souls, not helping them. Nassad quivered from the cold. With a couple steps he went to the small cot, pulling the blanket from it, and wrapping himself and the blanket around her.

"I'm only doing this for the sake of your life, nothing else."

Nassad tried his best to keep her warm, but his wet clothes wouldn't do it. He took off his shirt and tried his best to keep her warm. There wasn't an option to let her die, not like he did Gwendolyn. His death wasn't his choice, Gwendolyn's choice was his own, but this choice would be his. "Tell me, what do you need?"

"I'm glad you care so much," drawled Tamaa, shivering against Nassad's body. "If we could make a fire I'd suggest you do that, but considering how we don't even have a lamp-"

Tamaa lurched into a coughing fit, dislodging the covers on her shoulder. Several breaths later, the draken wrapped the covers closer to her and reluctantly pressed her body against Nassad.

"This means nothing understand? Absolutely nothing."

Nassad didn't say a word to her. He didn't need to say anything. Both of his arms closed around her without any thought or consideration. This was almost humiliating for Nassad. Being so close to someone, someone who wasn't in chains, or squeezing the life out of someone. The only other feeling close to this was the thought of his parents, who were far gone and most likely searching for their next meal. His hands clasped on each other as he continued to hold her. He felt something there, maybe their warmth, maybe it was the feel of her scales against his skin, but it was something.

This feeling lasted until the night, Nassad had yet to exchange any words with her.

In the early hours of the morning, Tamaa shifted away from Nassad's grasp, blood warm and head cleared. With no light in their quarters, she dressed in the safety of the darkness, pulling a spare change of clothes from her bag. Whether he was awake or not, Tamaa spoke all the same.

"For a slaver, you're rather helpful."

Her eyes glittered with amusement.

A pirate's life for me

Under the cover of night, the duo arrived at Wyrm's Rock, and both had fallen back into their awkward silence. (Tamaa's accident was never mentioned, and it worked for the both of them). Their meeting place was marked by a broken ship that breached itself on the shoreline. Nassad steered the ship into the cove, avoiding the treacherous rocks that pierced the hull of many ships, and Tamaa anchored it with a heavy rock; large ferns kept it hidden from strangers.

"Do you know where this place is?"

Nassad had not heard what Tamaa had said that night, and if he was awake, he'd prefer to never hear it again. Their arrival to Wyrm's Rock was only the first stone to the many they would have to jump onto. Nassad got up, putting on his damp clothes, and looking upon the rock. They would have to find a place to stay for the night before they were to meet Shekar the next morning.

Their journey was only at a halt for a moment.

"We have some time to ourselves, so let's try to spend it wisely."

Then the two set out from the boat into the scoundrel infested rock.

 

[E.T.]

Thievery was an art that had long passed from Belphebe's repertoire, quick and subtle hands replaced with a fast, sharp mind. In the old days she would have navigated the river herself, climbed aboard, and grabbed the plans before the guards could blink. Ah, the old days when there was no complexity, when she was free, when the only thing that bound her to the ground was-ah but she was getting ahead of herself. There was no time for regrets, and to be perfectly honest she rather enjoyed some of the politics.

The quiet satisfaction as she watched her profits soar, the pleasure of watching someone crumble to will when they realized that she held the cards to their life, the power in listening to someone pour their every secret into her cup. This life had not simply chosen her, she had forged this spot for herself and it would take more than a natural disaster or a blockade to undo her.

All that being said, the blockade was posing a unique challenge. It wasn't simply a matter of calling upon those contacts that could be paid off, coerced, or threatened, a smugglers route required planning, stealth, and above all information. And that is where Chelena came in. See for every military endeavor there was a plan, it was simple logic that kept everything running smoothly and the troops in line, and since most could not be relied upon to remember all the details most of these plans were written down. And two days ago Belphebe was slipped information about where she could find a plan.

The information had come from one of her less trusted informants but a quick check had confirmed that the command ship was exactly where it was said to be. The next step was to find someone to steal the plans, as fate had it the perfect candidate nearly fell right into her lap.

"Madam, forgive me but will Chelena be able to do this?" Ferret stood nervously in the doorway, fidgeting with the two books in her arms. The question was greeted with a dry laugh as Belphebe pulled herself from her thoughts.

"It doesn't matter. It will be done I am simply looking for a crack." She said. Ferret frowned heavily but bowed and exited the room non the less.

"There are plans to be laid." Ree's soft voice floated down from the rafters as incorporeal as its form. "with schemes that bite. Find those who believe themselves made."

"If all is well, you will never have to fight." Belphebe finished the familiar lullaby in her silky voice, words rolling off her tongue with a smile thinking of what could or would be.

 

[Saphen]

The sound....Once Ash couldn't find Lapin he looked back to see what had caused the disturbance. The unicorn had bloodied himself on a Kindly one, the crowds screamed and ran like animals often did but the undertaker just stood there. It was instinct that held him still in the chaos, his eyes looked up at the invader as he was struck with debris. Kindly ones danced around Amaltas but their organized strikes did little to save their lives, Fools thought Ash...but the undertaker was one of the few to have actually tussled with the unicorn and lived. Lapin could also make such a claim but she had vanished. Lapin's reflexes and quick thinking allowed her to subdue Amaltas the first time but no one here could match that speed.

The thinking process however could easily be matched by Ironblood, his gaze followed his logic but it didn't do him any good. The Iron Child was paying homage to her name with a posture of cold silence. Two Kindly ones had quickly flanked her to protect her should the unicorn attempt to set her free or do her harm...no one was really sure which it would be. Ash hooves tapped against the ground uneasily as he tried to decide what to do. Should he attempt to calm Amaltas? Was that even possible? Probably not, the rage in the monster's eyes seemed too far gone for any sound reason. The bodies were piling up and Ash knew his duty would be to those who were lost but they were not going anywhere nor could Ash get close enough to pull them out of the carnage without joining them in their return to Ilium.

Ash...Cora thought to the undertaker, he sensed that she wanted him to look closer at the bodies and so he did. Their eyes...they were all black, empty, and without life or death in them. Ash could feel their heart racing and so together they looked and sure enough they saw it. The Aux of the dead kindly one was a snake, it's dark green skin laying across it's Crux's lap...once again the eyes were void. The undertaker whirled around, his hooves thundered as he charged Ironblood. The Kindly One's readied their weapons, the black marbles that were once their eyes focused on the undertaker as he raced towards them. The acorn pendulum on the Iron Child's neck began to glow, Ash realized the monster inside of her had managed to use her Advent to defile the Kindly One's.

Ash had only heard about the Orenda once, it was in a manuscript written by Ironblood to explain the various uses of Advents in Viridos society. She used her own as an example, an Advent that when used could channel and redirect the flow of an external energy source. Ash surmised that this was what she used to contain the beast, but because Grevious could corrupt Aux it had found a way to use it against her.

The undertaker's fingers gripped the spear that was coiled around his waist, throwing it before it could completely uncoil at the two Kindly One's. Even though they were controlled they were still skilled swordsmen and so one of them caught it with ease, whirling it in his hand to mock the undertaker's feeble attempt. What they didn't realize was the shaft was made of heartwood, something Ash could control. By the time the Kindly one noticed that Ash was still connected to his weapon through a thin heartwood string it was too late. The weapon's shaft exploded into tiny shards that shot into both of their faces. They screamed and crumpled, Ash wasn't sure how long it would distract them but he didn't need much time.

"Iron Child look at me!" he screamed and Iron Blood's gaze turned to him, one of her eyes was black but the other fought against the corruption. "Let me help you!" he said as he slid to a halt right in front of her. Her body fought against the mannerism but she slowly nodded as Ash pressed his chest against her own. Ironblood squirmed and writhed in pain but after a few moments Ash began to phase into her...just as he did the heartwood.

Cora...lend me your strength he thought to his aux and once they were completely inside of the alchemist their heart could be seen through the half kin's chest. No longer was the glow a simple reddish pink but now it glowed a brilliant white. The sign of the undertaker's advent, he was able to fuse with another sentient being in order to enhance the use of their own advents. In this case it allowed Lady Ironblood to regain control of it before the Grevious could do more harm.

The Kindly One's stopped attacking Amaltas, they all began to fall to the floor one by one, their hands gripping their hoods and hair as they screamed in pain. Their black eyes, often hidden behind their ceremonial masks, were beginning to turn back to normal as a strange black mist was pulled out of the pores of their skin. The defilement fluttered through the air as Lady Ironblood focused pulling Grevious back into his cage. The undertaker's burning eyes replaced both Ironblood's and Grevious's as the advent hit it's zenith.

"We, those who seek to protect Viridos, banish you once more!"
Ironblood screamed but several voices could be heard from her lips in perfect harmony. The last two Kindly Ones screamed right next to her but their defilement was drawn into her as well. After a few moments Ash's body fell out of her, he barely caught himself with his hands as he laid on the ground breathing heavily....the trial....the crowd....everyone....was silenced.​

 

[lynzy]

Maybe it was because they had been walking in the bowels of hell for that last few days or maybe her sanity had finally left the den but Shardis was having a real hard time wrapping her brain around the thought of a boat coming here just for them. Especially when it was offered up to them from her. The one that had just up and flown away for her own schemes.

"Why should we trust you?" A puzzled and wary look came about her countenance as she stepped a little closer to the feathered creature she wanted to strangle. "You ran...or flew away like a coward. Gods only know what you've been up to while you were gone. How do we know you wont be selling us in to the slave pits?!" A snarl crossed her face as her ears pinned themselves down and Shardis shifted her weight from one foot to the other to ready herself for a leap just as a hand gripped her arm. Shardis visibly wilted as she turned to face Caoimhe who gave her the 'knock-it-off' face and a shake of her head. But she didn't take back her questions and the ears still stayed down.

 

[DotCom]

Aerie - Wherever the Fuck, darkred

They reached the coast -- again -- as night was falling on the third day. It had taken them all surprisingly little time to fall back into their standard Harem's March after Aerie's (temporary) return, though the Avian strongly suspected the driving force behind that had been the bickering between herself and the cat, as per the norm.

Shardis had made it clear she'd wanted nothing to do with Aerie, which was just as well. But the 'locals' had started growing restless with the newcomers in their village, and while she and the Anima had never been close, Caoimhe still liked Aerie, and Medwich had, for better or worse, been unwilling to let his party shrink anymore.

And her argument had been pretty convincing: "What are you going to do instead? Gyrate like idiots until the Super Fancy Destruction Things bring hell down on our heads?" She pointed again at the Aviary. "Seems we've already been there."

In any case, the Avian had been true to her word. They boat waited for them a the end of the small jetty behind a guard of lower-ranking Valkyrie, already stocked and ready to sail. And Aerie, who had planned on leaving just as soon as she saw them all aboard, decided she could stay a bit longer, if only to relish the look on Shardis's face.

"I think I'd commission someone to paint a picture," she said adoringly as she led the party to the end of the dock, past the solemn-faced soldiers. "Ignore them," she added with a scowl, then, under her breath, "My father is equal parts overprotective and abusive." Or else just protecting his investment. The second thought made her just slightly less crabby.

"What?" said Caoimhe behind her.

"Nothing." She stopped at the ladder and gestured. "Well, best be on your way. Wouldn't want to interrupt your traveling in circles any more than necessary."

One of the Valkyrie stopped to look at her, nodding at her injured wing. "Your...mother wants to know how the healing is progressing."

Aerie made a face. "I'll let you know when the nausea passes."

"Are you -- ?"

Aerie scoffed and rolled her eyes. "Forget it. If she's all that worried, tell her she can lead these three in circles." She paused, scowled, then shrugged, hauling herself up the ladder to squint down at the three Pegulians.

"What've you got to lose?" The smell of salt air both annoyed and invigorated her. Eventually, she'd owe them a story.

"At least I can't fly away this time."

 

[unanun]

Suddenly, it was only Amaltas, Tattersal, Ash, and the panel.

"Well." Amaltas scored a deep furrow into the ground, his great hoof splintering the wood very loudly in the suddenly silent trial room. "What an interesting turn of events."

The unicorn's bloodshot eyes swiveled, sometimes back into the head, sometimes flickering to Tattersal for the briefest instant. The exiled General stood in front of the Clad with arms stoically crossed across his chest. Amaltas snorted. He pawed the ground. It was clear that he wanted to gore everyone present on his great horn, then disappear into the forest.

Om the Invader raised himself from the rubble. He surveyed the fallen Kindly Ones, his hydraroots swiveling in crooked patterns. As the noise from Ash's exorcism faded, a wind-over-the-leaves could be heard. Scores of Kindly Ones approached.

Perhaps he would have to content himself with just the latter. Slowly, he retreated and bucked, kicking out the wall. Everyone in the room was frozen as the unicorn casually kicked over and over, opened the wall behind him, backed out with a final snort, and disappeared.

Expulsion. Ostracize. Excommunication. Lapin's disappearance did not start an inquiries, investigations, or interrogations. By Om the Invader's instruction, they simply forgot about her. Her room in the Kindly One's tree residences was avoided. The vine that delivered water into a wooden basin dried up. Seeds sprouted, trees grew, and leaves unfurled without her. Slowly, Lapin's existence faded into obscurity.

But not for one acolyte. Naya, a strange Kindly One who spent her days in the forge, hammering that which should have been grown, could not forget Lapin. Each piece of Golden Steel that she forged left its own unique impression upon her. And like a piece of burning hot metal, Lapin and Khanaan had left their mark as well; she traced the trail of their sparks and ashes.

"Come on."

"Vanaya (Naya!), we should not be doing this."

"They won't know. Om - " she crossed herself with a mudra of reverence, "- has told everyone to stay away anyways." Her hair was pulled into a tight ponytail, exposing her sharp cheekbones and narrow, almond eyes.

"Your idea of sneaking around is to do so with an undertaker?"

"You want to know, right?"

He did. They walked into the room.

Ten lines on the water clock ticked by. Nothing. Lapin's room was as austere and mysterious as herself. A shelf held her clothing. Ash looked away, and Naya grinned back, laughing silently at Cora's reaction, a rare moment of mirth between the two in these times .. then she remembered the dead and mixed forest-kin painting the wall in the trial room and shivered.

A simple pot on the windowsill held a tiny, beautiful flower. The corner of her room farthest from the bed held a desk with polishing tools and an extra sword, made with plain grey steel. They spent another twenty lines searching for hidden compartments, anything that would leave a clue.

"What did she say, again?"

Ash didn't want to repeat it. He ran both hands down, touching shoulder and ending at hip, in a mudra of warding. "Trust --"

"--- no one." Naya peaked underneath the desk. They found the symbol, scratched into a corner of Lapin's room. It was too deliberate to be from wear, too hidden to be coincidence, and too confusing to mean anything.

^
< O >
v​

"What .. what does this mean?"

End of Chapter 4​