[center][img]https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/1006946319472001246/1010593717465395271/Ashevelen_Token.png[/img][img]https://media.discordapp.net/attachments/1006946319472001246/1010604944950308964/Ferryman_Token.png[/img][img]https://i.imgur.com/DZL1LnB.png[/img]
[h1]Ashevelen, The Ferryman, & Myrtu[/h1][/center]
[center][sup]The Steppe, prior to devastation…[/sup][/center]

Standing among the spiral formation in which a large group of proto-humans had been deposited, in the very center of the nearly uninhabited lands of the vast Steppe, there was a unicorn staring at the sky. For moments uncounted, Myrtu had stood there, waiting for Anath Homura to be out of sight, then further waiting for the ‘coast to be clear’. Slowly, ever so gingerly, she moved her hooves to the side, shrinking them as she went, so as to avoid yet another accident. Beneath each hoof was the strange ichor of the unformed human, which had been crushed beneath her landing, having been killed before it even understood what living was. Those still dormant vessels had not witnessed this act- a thing for which Mytru was grateful- so it was easy to make up for. Very simple to cover up. Easy. 

Dipping her head, Myrtu skewered the half-statue half-squishy parts (of which they still could not name) upon the tip of their divine unicorn horn, then leapt into the air. At first, she’d thought to simply toss it into the nearby star, but that was a little anticlimactic. This was more than likely the first death on the Steppe, unless there were more Elves freezing to death out here too, and it deserved to be given some form of fanfare! Maybe the weird transparent screaming soul it’d left behind would stop screaming with a celebration? Right. A ghost was screaming in its formless-shapeless-sort of soundless voice beneath Myrtu. While the noise wasn’t loud it was somehow loud-without-sound which was even worse and she wanted it gone.

So, without further ado, Myrtu dashed a small distance into the air above, then charged up what they hoped would be the most brilliant funeral-death-celebration-laserbeam of them all! A lightshow began in a myriad of colors and unnamed shapes, as Myrtu incinerated the corpse, and used the ashes as sparkling dust within the light show.

[hr]

“Oop! A new arrival,” said the Ferryman and extracted a scroll from the breast of his robe. “Oh, neat - this one’s on the way, actually. Bit north of here and we should be there soon. Very unfortunate death, gotta say. Celestial objects are generally not a common murder weapon. Will be a hell of a tale to share in the afterlife.”

Ashevelen enjoyed the view and while the Ferryman wasn’t one for small talk, occasionally he’d chip in. The conversation was always light, never something truly important. Eventually, Ashe settled on just observing the world, far away from the Umbral Woods. That is, until the Ferryman spoke.

“[color=gold] Celestial object death? Correct me if I’m wrong, wouldn’t that mean that one of our brothers or sisters killed the mortal? Celestial objects don’t randomly fall out of the sky.[/color]” asked Ashe, curiously. 

"I wouldn't know. The Universe is full of secrets and while I wasn't born yesterday, it hasn't been all that long." The Ferryman backed up his argument with one of his signature shrugs, then he gave the note another look. "Huh. No name. Not a lot of details at all, actually. Tch… Well, guess that's another one for the Ghostel."

“[color=gold] No name? Maybe a new mortal created by other divines and got killed by accident. How funny would it be if someone stepped on another divine’s mortals by mistake?[/color]” said Ashe with a grin, aware of the grim joke she just made. 

"Not sure it'd be funny at all, I'll be frank," the Ferryman replied matter-of-factly. "But to each their own, I suppose." The forest eventually gave way to giant mountains, and beyond, an unending sea of grass intermittently broken up by small, wave-like hills or on the rare occasion mountain tsunamis. Here ran the occasional horse flock, and on occasion Wellington would almost crash into an indignant eagle, but otherwise, it was fairly empty. The Ferryman scratched his head. "Can't fault anyone for dying out here, 'cept maybe ruminants."

“[color=gold] Not for them that for sure. Bah, Ferryman you need to learn how to laugh. [/color]” said Ashe laughing out loud. Truly a curious sound from the boat of the Ferryman, joyous laughter.

“[color=gold] Amazing. Maybe I should’ve made the home of the Umbra here. This place looks quite nice, a lot of grass and places where you can run around. Imagine a massive bazaar built on these plains, mortals from everywhere would come. Ahhh…[/color]” said Ashe with a hopeful voice, half-daydreaming the day she’ll instruct the Umbra to build her the bazaar. 

"A migrating settlement of sorts sure would be a doozy," the Ferryman agreed. "Sell a bit'a this, a bit'a that - all that good stuff." They sailed a bit further on, their altitude bringing them on collision course with a ribbon of dancing aurorae. Wellington dove down below and the Ferryman ran his fingers through the colours, magic dust spotting his hand. "Neat!"

“[color=gold] We’re more alike that I initially thought, Mr. Ferryman. I do have to say, I enjoy your company. [/color]” replied Ashe then proceeded to take some magic dust into her hands, only to put it inside her pockets. Surely it would be useful later.

"Thank you!" the Ferryman said with an ambiguous smile. "It's the joy of any ferryman to please one's passenger. And…" He breathed a relieved sigh. "... It's nice to sail with a friendly face for once."

"[Color=gold]It must be lonely to always travel alone. Well, then, let me provide a gift. You've given me a lift and I'll give you something else in exchange. A trade if you want to call it that. [/color]" said Ashevelen, smiling.

She pulled her robes apart and from the shadows, a group of 6 Umbras appeared. Hiding in the shadows of their creator.

"[Color=gold] I give them to you, my creations. As long as they follow my commands, they are free to do whatever you may wish them to do. [/color]" 

The Ferryman blinked and eyed the shadows behind him. “I, uh…” He rubbed the back of his head humbly. “Thank you, miss, but, uh… I don’t know if I can accept them. I’m on the job all day and night, and if these things need to eat, then I won’t have time to feed ‘em. I, uh…” He looked over the edge of his boat. “Do they mind bartending? Wait, hang on, they’d have to be dead to even see the Ghostel…”

The Umbra in his shadow quivered at the mention.

“[color=gold] Dead? No, no. They don’t need to be dead to see ghosts. [/color]” smiled Ashe and with a wave of her hand, dark light flashed in the usually blank eyes of the Umbra. The Umbra were very much scared initially and then, if their faces could have expressions, it would’ve been one of amazement. Blessed with the ability to see the dead, the Umbra were amazed by the number of souls around them. 

“[color=gold] And done, they can now see the dead. As for bartending, I have given them the ability to understand the nature of a trade. Offer them your divine protection and in exchange, they’ll do what you need. They can eat pretty much anything but I can help them a bit more if you wish or just use your own power, let them eat souls or whatever else you wish. [/color]” smiled Ashevelen, kindly. 

The Ferryman, not really knowing any other ways to politely decline a gift, conceded defeat and nodded. “Thank you, ma’am. I’m sure they’ll come to good use.”

And on the Steppe, still so early in its stage of growth and population, any sound but that of the wind, was carried as unbroken as a wave, until it rolled ashore. Laughter, bright and babbling- yet somehow contradictingly imperceptible- echoed from a place somewhere beneath those dusty multicolored lights. 

An oddity amongst oddities would be the sight of the statuesque and dormant humans, of which there is a sizable number, arranged in a great spiral formation, atop the rolling golden grass, at whose center-point danced a god. A large winged Unicorn, whose colorful mane and fur did shift hues as they moved, was putting on a show for an audience of one. 

Myrtu moved in a precise manner-bucking and leaping- tossing their mane and leaving trails of light and color with their wings. Before them a formless unnamed soul giggled, in the soundless-cacophonous manner of those whose voices would forever go unheard by mortals.

The Ferryman slowed down the pace of Wellington and blinked. He waved his hand with a small movement and greeted, “Afternoon, friend!”

Ashevelen looked, a bit amazed, at the other divine. A truly majestic form they’ve chosen. 

“[color=gold] Amazing horn brother! And your mane ! [/color]” 

Myrtu halted, then leapt into the air- his wings of light glittering brightly behind him- until he was even with the front Wellington. A moment of equine examination took place, as he looked the two over. Finally, in a voice that came without the use of his mouth, he spoke brightly, [color=#b7c9f5]"Greetings! Where art thine hooves? Does this vessel act in the place of them?"[/color]

The Ferryman looked over the edge of the boat to behold the magnificent quad of polished hooves attached to the amazingly fabulous unicorn. After a very jealous spot of pondering, he managed to muster a small, “I suppose so. Sure wish she was as shiny as yours are, though.”

[color=#b7c9f5]"Only a paltry few granules of stardust would be required for shining the vessel- though the collection of stardust involves going near those stars which have collapsed without falling into the collapsing void thyself- one need simply outrun it. Or,"[/color] he tossed his mane about, along with a few sparkles, [color=#b7c9f5]"Partake of a sum from mine flowing tresses, I have much to spare."[/color] 

Myrtu abruptly gave Ashevelen a stare down, [color=#b7c9f5]"And where art thy hooves? Unless- ah, a duo of Divines which sail the skies?"[/color]

“[color=gold] My hooves? I have hooves, look again brother. Hooves, tail and everything in between. [/color]” answered Ashe and to prove her words, she lifted one leg in the air and lo’ and behold, one of feet was turned into a hoof. A parlor trick for a divine but hopefully, the other divine would’ve found it mildly amusing at least.

“[color=gold] I just went along for a ride, to answer your question. My mortals need time to grow and more places to be than they can travel on their own. As such, the good Ferryman offered us a space on his boat. [/color]”

"Yup," the Ferryman said with a nod.

When Ashevelen revealed the hoof, Myrtu bounded about midair in amusement, making a little circle before facing the two again.[color=#b7c9f5] "I have, in mine contemplations, asked why each Divine does choose their forms, and why, upon this world, there is a startling of hooves, so far as I have seen."[/color] 

[color=#b7c9f5]"-and did you say mortals? Ah, I've quite the collection- "[/color] 

Below, the infantile soul cried out in confusion, to which Myrtu abruptly and immediately responded. He went toward it with a spiraling descent, so careful not to go near any of the dormant human statues. 

[color=#b7c9f5]"Here I am! Please do not begin the wailing again-"[/color] Myrtu shouted upward [color=#b7c9f5]"-twas nice to meet you however I am quite busy!"[/color]

The Ferryman blinked and extracted the little scroll from his breast pocket. “Say, uh…” He unfurled it. “... Would that soul have happened to have been squashed by a celestial object in its living days? Would you know anything about that, mister…?”

Myrtu stared up at the Ferryman, then back to the soul, then back upward. A tense moment of silence passed. A very deep sigh left Myrtu as he explained, [color=#b7c9f5]"Accidentally there was a most unfortunate and unintentional crushing of one of these statues, which represent a dormant race of mortals called Humans, by mine most mistaken and accidental misstep, in which I unwittingly smooshed a statue with mine hoof. Accidentally. Unfortunately. Thereby rendering it unto a state most deceased."[/color]

“Huh. Guess that’s one-oh to you, Miss Ashevelen,” the Ferryman conceded.

Ashevelen listened to Myrtu’s very unfortunate tale, on how he killed this mortal race called humans and then nodded to the Ferryman with a grin.

“[color=gold] Wow. A joke I made turned out to be real. Who’d have thought about that? [/color]” quickly replied Ashevelen while laughing and tapping the Wellington with her hand in delight. 

“[color=gold]Divine brother, may you offer us your name? I am Ashevelen, lady of the trade and this here…[/color]” pointing to the Ferryman “[color=gold]...is the Ferryman of the dead. Called to ferry across the world, the souls of the dead. In other words, the one below there. [/color]”

Myrtu shook his head about anxiously, stepping into a little dance for the soul, which cooed and giggled, before he responded, [color=#b7c9f5]"I am called Myrtu, and full glad am I that this one may be sent elsewhere- I've nary a clue as to how much entertainment I could provide for much longer."[/color]

“Oh, very kind of you, mister Myrtu,” said the Ferryman and beckoned the soul aboard his vessel (it didn’t have much of a choice in the matter). It was seated very politely on one of the plank seats next to a myriad of Umbral shades, one of whom conjured forth a fraction of Ashevelen’s shadow and made a little puppet show for the soul. It received copious applause for its mimicry of a skipping foal. “This one’ll…” The Ferryman regarded the soul scroll. “... Go to the Ghostel for the time being, it seems. But hey, it’s somewhere.”

Ashe watched with great interest the Umbra’s puppet show and laughed copiously at the story they portrayed. The souls seemed to enjoy it as well but she soon lost interest in them, instead, she turned towards Myrtu. 

“[color=gold] Myrtu, it seems to me that you’ve got quite a few humans down there. What do you say about a trade? I give you some of my Umbra and in exchange, I’ll take some of your humans. How does that sound? [/color]” asked Ashevelen. "[color=gold]Humans and Umbra might get along,[/color]" replied Ashevelen, "[color=gold]The Umbra could use some new trade partners and maybe, some new food if they don't prove themselves useful.[/color]" 

Heaving a great and weary sigh, Myrtu settled down, folding his legs beneath him. Ashevelen's words were taken in with a quiet moment of equine thought, as he shifted his head about, taking in the sight of the humans at different angles. Calculating? Idly, as he looked about, Myrtu asked, [color=#b7c9f5]"Ghostel? I... will have to find this place, in due time. What is this Ghostel? The afterlife for mortals?"[/color] 

Then to Ashevelen he responded, [color=#b7c9f5]"And if there will be a trade, I'd ask only for equal numbers of these hoofless blobs in exchange,"[/color] he shook his mane about with some amusement, [color=#b7c9f5]"These are mortal creatures both with potential which awaits unbinding and realization. Only as they grow might we know what their capabilities truly are."[/color]

“[color=gold] That is a fair trade. Say, 50 of mine vs 50 of yours? Enough for them to grow on their own without us needing to shepherd them. [/color]” quickly replied Ashevelen. 

[color=#b7c9f5]“I agree- that number will be suitable- these mortals will quite overwhelm them with amount, however, among them shall I unleash variation in form and build, so that they might engage in teamwork and compensate for each other's strengths and weaknesses. These.. Umbra, will make excellent variation to that which is planned,”[/color] Myrtu bobbed his head, [color=#b7c9f5]“Though forgive me, as I am quite weary, and will not be able to transport that number easily until mine breath hath returned to me.”[/color]

The Ferryman followed the logic of the conversation, as well as Ashevelen’s frequent eye shifts back to him and mumbled something like, “... Well, I guess there’s space in Wellington for a few.”

“[color=gold] Only if you allow it, Ferryman. You can drop them at any time in the Umbral Forests. Pretty sure some of the Umbras are dying as we speak, seeing that I haven’t offered them much to begin with.[/color]” smiled Ashe, shyly towards the Ferryman. She realized a bit too late that the Ferryman will end up…ferrying alive mortals as well. 

With a knock on her robe, a few more Umbras came out. These, like the other ones, hid in Ashe’s shadow and just waited for her to allow them to come out whenever they were required. Of course, the blessing which affected the Ferryman’s Umbra, affected them as well. Giving birth to a new type of Umbra. 

“[color=gold] There, 50 Umbras for you, Myrtu. Thank you for your trade.[/color]” said Ashe as she gently let the Umbras on the ground, next to Myrtu’s humans. 

Myrtu regarded the Umbra on the ground with an ambiguous expression, as most of his expressions were, seeing as he’s a horse, before looking back up to Ashevelen. [color=#b7c9f5]“These humans are bound in statue form and, though I am certain they may be transported with ease, I’ve no idea as to their weight and if such a tiny vessel would be able to carry them. Therefore I propose that I, in due time, transport them myself to your forest. I am capable of carrying numerous objects at once, with the powers of mine Divine Mind.”[/color]

“[i]What[/i] in [i]tarnation[/i] did you just say about my vessel, you little [b]foal?[/b] I’ll have you know that I graduated [i]top of my class[/i] at the Ferryman Academy and that I have over [i]three hundred[/i] [i][b]confirmed deliveries[/b][/i]. I am [i]trained[/i] in navigation and I am [b]the top sailor[/b] in the entire[i][b][/b][/i] Intercosmic Undertaker Association. You are [i]nothing[/i] to me but just another [b][i]colleague[/i][/b]. I will [b]ship[/b] you away with [b]speed[/b] and [b]comfort[/b] the likes of which has [i]never[/i] been seen before on this Galbar, mark my darn [b]words[/b]. You think you can get away with saying that stuff over [b][i]telepathy?[/i][/b] Think again, [b]horsey[/b]. As we [i]speak[/i], I am contacting my known network of souls all across the [i]planet[/i] and your mind is being [b]filled[/b] now with [i][b]positive reviews[/b][/i], so you better prepare for the storm, [i]stallion[/i]. The storm that tells you that I actually do a [i]pretty decent job[/i]. You will learn a lesson, [b]foal[/b]. I can be [i][b]anywhere[/b][/i] (within reason), [i][b]anytime[/b][/i] (well, virtually), and I can transport you in over [i]three ways[/i], and that’s just with my boat Wellington. Not only am I extensively trained in [i]rowboating[/i], but I have access to the entire [b]fleet[/b] of the Intercosmic Undertaker Association and I will use it to its [i]full extent[/i] to ferry your respectable self [i]off the face of this Steppe[/i], you kind sir. If only you could have known what [b]comfortable service[/b] your little [i]‘clever’[/i] comment was about to bring down upon you, maybe you would have held your [i][b]respectable tongue[/b][/i]. But you [i]couldn’t[/i], you [b][i]didn’t[/i][/b] and now you won’t be paying the [b]price[/b] (I ship for free, see), you respectable [b]gentlehorse[/b]. I will ship cordially [b]all over[/b] and you will enjoy it. You’re damned welcome, [u][i][b]foaly[/b][/i][/u].”

The Ferryman blinked as he realized what he had just said and mumbled, “Sorry, dunno what came over me just there.”

And unto the Ferryman, Myrtu asked in a deadpan, [color=#b7c9f5]“Can thine vessel transport fifty statues?”[/color] 

The Ferryman looked around his little dory. “Uh, probably. Guess we’ll have to try, huh?”

[color=#b7c9f5]“If it cannot,”[/color] Myrtu got to his feet, shimmering, [color=#b7c9f5]“Then it shall be declared the teeny tiny shipping container from the Intercosmic Undertaker Association.”[/color] 

“You’re on, horsey.”

With a Single flip of his magnificent sparkling mane, Myrtu’s horn glowed brightly- illuminating outlines around some fifty grouped human statues. With a second swish of hair, which rained down significant sparkles, the statues lifted all at once toward the Wellington. Like a true dock-loader, Myrtu asked then, [color=#b7c9f5]“Lengthwise, stacked, or other way, transport?”[/color]

“Stacked lengthwise. Don’t you worry, sir - she’s handled her share before.” The Ferryman gently put his Umbral Six in a dark corner in the back, gestured for Ashevelen to move back some and stood up to guide the shipment down in the ship’s belly with his hands. Ashe just stood there, wide-eyed. Her face was of utter disbelief. Looking at the Ferryman and then back at Myrtu, their exchange getting heatedly-polite. Eventually, she started laughing and laughing and continued to do that until the Ferryman gestured for her to move and then, afterwards, she continued to laugh again. 

“[color=gold] Amazing. Divines everywhere, this was just amazing. Wow, just…wow. I’m speechless. Ferryman, Myrtu, I have to say, I quite like you two. Please visit my realm later on when I’ll build one. We need to have a brew and talk more. Pure entertainment. [/color]” said Ashe, barely managing to speak in-between laughs. A tear slowly rolling down her cheek from pure joy. 

As Myrtu lowered the fifty statues into the Wellington, one by one, as guided by the Ferryman, he mumbled, [color=#b7c9f5]“Well, foolish would I be to turn down a chance to entertain and bring joy to others.”[/color] Oh, Myrtu absolutely was going to passive-aggressively keep loading up the Wellington, even if things looked as if they weren’t going to work. With an amused shake of his head, Myrtu added, [color=#b7c9f5]“Mayhaps next we meet, we may share progress on how our mortals are faring.”[/color]

The Ferryman, with a competitive glint in his eye, pursed his ambiguous lips as the vessel sank deeper and deeper into the magical river it sailed. “Mayhaps we shall.” The Umbra had already flowed out from their hidey hole and tried desperately to keep the tower of humans in balance. The barrier barring souls from exiting the vessel without the Ferryman’s leave would have helped - if it had been calibrated for the living. The Ferryman tried to hide the beads of sweat on his forehead. “Mayhaps, indeed.”

Myrtu continued loading statues without any sign of slowing down. He remained silent. 

“[color=gold] Do you need help, Ferryman? More than happy to row as well, for a price. Maybe some more divine power is required? You can accept after we leave from here, out of the eyes of Myrtu, of course.[/color] ” said Ashe with a grin while helping stabilize the human tower from falling over.

“No need,” the Ferryman insisted as he cast a soul spell to balance the tower at the top while also transporting a panicked Umbra back aboard after they almost fell to their death. “Wellington has never lost a passenger before. She won’t lose one today.”

“[color=gold] Pride doesn’t suit you, my friend. [/color]” quickly replied Ashe with a friendly smile. 

[color=#b7c9f5]“I thank you both for stopping by,”[/color] Myrtu spoke up, after placing the final statue atop the stack, [color=#b7c9f5]“Please do visit again.”[/color]

“[color=gold] Goodbye divine brother! It was a pleasure meeting you![/color]” shouted Ashe with a wave.

“Oh, this’ll probably be the sort’a place I return to often,” said the Ferryman with feigned confidence. “A very good day to ya, mister Myrtu.” With that, they sailed off like a stack of plates on a skateboard, statues dropping off and being put back with telekinesis like an endless game of jenga. 

[sup]edit: fixed some scuffed spelling, formatting, and inserted the elusive myrtu token[/sup]
[hider=Summary] 
Myrtu performs a sparkling funeral for a crushed protohuman. Ferryman, with Ashevelen as a passenger, came toward the scene. Ashevelen offers Ferryman some Umbra, blessed with the ability to see the dead, to serve as bartenders in the Ghostel. Greetings are exchanged between Ferryman, Ashevelen, and Myrtu, who explains he accidentally killed a protohuman, which Ferryman retrieves. Ashevelen trades 50 Umbra for 50 of Myrtu’s protohumans. Myrtu calls Ferryman’s boat small. Ferryman graduated top of his class at the Ferryman Academy and has over three hundred confirmed deliveries. A stack of 50 protohumans are put into the Wellington for transport. Farewells all around!

[/hider]

[hider=MP/AP]
-1 AP point from Ashevelen to bless the Umbra with soul-seeing eyes.
[/hider]