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Phia, Menzai, and Bastion split off from the group to make their way to the tavern with a quiet Tommy riding atop the warforged shoulders. Even with the sun still low in the sky the town was very active, but even then it did not stop the stares. The townsfolk hushed their conversation and shared glances as the four of them passed. The young boy riding the giant warforged drew more attention than any single one of them would.



Phia kept close to Menzai’s side as they walked, her arms folded around herself. Her amber gaze stayed alert, shifting over the faces they passed… The malicious grins, the curious eyes, the whispers that halted too abruptly whenever she looked their way. It all made the hairs on the back of her neck rise. Beneath the morning hustle and bustle, it was easier to feel it: this port had too many teeth.

Bastion slowed half a step when the whispers sharpened around them, his head turning just enough to mark which faces lingered too long.

When he noticed Tommy’s hands tightening against him, Bastion adjusted his gait without comment, making sure he wasn’t bouncing the poor lad around.

Menzai walked with a quiet, steady pace, matching Phia’s rhythm as he went. Glancing down at her from time to time, brows knitted and furrowed with concern, sensing the vile teeth whose hungers were nothing like the dangerous beast of the jungle. At least, to Phia, who had managed to avoid or feel such reprehensible eyes. With a gentle, and snowy glide of his left arm using the sleeve of his haori to cover and hide her from view as he hugged her softly with an adoring touch at his side.” Fret not, Sweet Phia, your brother will not let anyone near.” He whispered comfortingly with an assuring squeeze. Detesting seeing her so down, the wolf turned his gaze towards Bastion and Tommy.

A peculiar, small uplifting twitch at the unexpected heartwarming sight.” Sweet Phia, Curious thing that marble Sir Tommy carries?. Hm, curious, the two of them altogether.” He mused to his half-elven sister, hoping to help distract her from the prying eyes.

Phia leaned into Menzai’s embrace, nuzzling her face into the soft fabric of his haori. “I hope he treasures that marble.” She whispered back with earnest hope.

Her attention then drifted upward to Tommy, and the unease in her expression shifted to one of concern. “Tommy…” she began gently, tilting her head up at him. “You must have been traveling on the flying wood beast with us… Were you all by yourself?” The thought seemed to trouble her. After a brief pause, her gaze flicked toward Bastion as well. “Where were you going?” she asked Tommy first, then added more softly, “And you too, Bastion… where were you going before all of this?”

The question reached Bastion later than it should have. His answer, in some ways, was as simple as could be, though in others it carried more complexities than his warforged mind comprehended. He did not respond right away as the others began talking.

Tommy watched the rest of the group walk away as Bastion carried him back towards the tavern. He still clutched the marble, not daring to take his hands off his metal steed. All eyes seemed to trend his direction as he looked down across the sea of townsfolk. The situation seemed so surreal to him, it had been a long time since he was this exposed to the general public. In Stormreach that was for good reason, being spotted was no longer an option. Phia’s voice broke his train of thought, which was more welcome than he would let on.

“Flying… wood… beast?” Cocking his head confused.

He let his arm slip away, feeling somewhat better at ease. He appreciated their presence if he struggled to voice it aloud. Phia had always been capable of talking to others without hesitation if she felt they were a good person. Her sharp, unique senses impressed him every day. His fluffy-snow-white ears perked, catching Tommy's head-tilted response.

A sharp, clawed forefinger rose swiftly, causing a monetary pause with an aimed yet polite interjection.” Pardon, sir Tommy.” Then, a continued pace so as not to hold the group.” Yes, flying wood beast, for those of us of the Oruna tribe, such mechanical devices and wondrous mechanisms are only things read in books. They feel..mythical and unfathomably magical. They can almost appear, perhaps feel like living beasts in their own way. Fascinatingly curious creations…” Catching that he may have overspoken and coughed rebukedly against his sleeved hand.” Ahem, er, yes. Forgive me. I do hope that was adequate. We left off with your potential destinations, correct?” The wolf inquired about letting the original inquiry resume.

“Oh, the flying ship. Yea, but just me.” His voice rose an octave, understanding Phia’s phrasing.

Finally, Bastion took his turn to speak, choosing to answer Phia’s initial question first.

“And I was on the ship because it was finally time to come back to the place where I was created.” The construct replied simply, and without elaboration, he turned to Tommy to address the little fella’s words. “I also came alone. It was the first time in my existence that I have been.” He looked down to the floor, optics dimming and eyes narrowing slightly as the thought brought with it a profound feeling of melancholy he had not anticipated. However, he did not hesitate to continue. “Have you been alone for long, small friend?”

“I.. It’s been… Um.” Tommy ponders the question for a moment, struggling to answer. “Bastion… Do you know what date it is?” Tommy leaned forward, trying to look at Bastion's face without risking falling off his ride.

Bastion considered Tommy’s question, realizing that he could not find an answer within his internal processes. Instead, he turned to Phia for the answer.

“I’m sorry to fail your request, young one, but I do not have that information. Phia, do you by chance know what day it is currently?”

Phia peered at him, confusion stirring in her amber gaze. She tilted her head as if the question had been very strange. “The day…?” she echoed, then she stared up at the sky as if it had all the answers.

“It is a day beneath the Watch of the Thunder Veils.” She simply answered as if that should have been obvious. “The sky will become loud, the air wet, and the leaves will drink.” Then she suddenly wrinkled her nose. “I hope the storm waters do not follow us onto the ship.”

Menzai listened to the conversation, a bit saddened at the way Bastion had a melancholy look to him; the loneliness was felt, and his creator, a curious person, he may hope to meet. The warforged had a unique expressiveness despite lacking the ability to emote. Canine ears flicked at Tommy’s mention of the date, mirroring in Phia and Bastion confusion with a slight head tilt. As sweet Phia answered, he had turned his attention skyward, studying the cloud patterns and sniffing at the air. A concerning sign of storms loomed on the horizon.

Tommy turned to Phia expecting a response that let him count the months since his exodus began, however her words left him with more questions than he had before.

The wolf gave a simple nod.” The thunder veil carries a foreboding wind, indeed, sweet Phia. I pray the storm waters do not chase us too relentlessly, with unknown dangers lurking ahead for us.” Menzai added casually, as if what Phia said was the most normal thing.

Tommy sat staring down at Menzai and Phia, their response yielding no usable information.
”... What?” Tommy asks with a perplexed stare.

”It’s Lharvion 25th 1000 YK.” Arya’s voice interrupted the scene. She stood behind them, panting slightly. Stella had flown after her instead of hanging onto the tiefling through the crowd and now she landed on her shoulder.
”Can I come join you…?” Arya inquired sheepishly, and glanced around. ”I… I feel safer with you.”


Bastion reached towards her with an open hand, welcoming her to join them.

“Hi Arya,” Phia greeted with a smile. “I feel safer with you as well.”

Arya smiled at Phia shyly and wrapped an arm around her shoulders gently. Should she feel the need to move, Arya allowed it.

The starry tiefling’s sudden panting interruption gave Menzai pause in his strides as he paused, turning partially to see the hooded, winded Arya. He blinked, at a loss for what she said.” Lharvion..25th?” He muttered softly.

Yet, it was her asking to join that surprised him most. As they were for the baths and did not think it appropriate to ask the sheepishly shy tiefling, nor doubted she would be comfortable. Though it melted his heart that she felt safe with them.” Not at all, Lady Arya, you are welcome with us, always. ” An assuring light bow while seeing Stella land upon Arya’s shoulder.” And the lovely Miss Stella as well.” He added, not wishing to forget the wondrous bird companion.” You seem tired. Perhaps you would enjoy some water when we arrive at the tavern?” Menzai suggested, knowing the whole ordeal had been strenuously stressful for the pair.

Arya smiled bashfully and nodded. ”Thank you so much Menzai.” She looked up at Stella and brushed her hand against her wings. ”I think she’ll enjoy this,” Arya mused. ”Water would be fantastic. Thank you, but I can pay for it.”

Menzai’s eyes widened slightly, fighting the awestruck urge at the sight of Arya’s bashful, blushing starry face. Her tinted cheeks were like a bright sun betwixt the stars. He could see how sweet Phia saw her as a goddess of the stars. Unable to stop the soft smile tickling the corners of his lips as he gave a light nod.” Of course, happy to help.” The wolf studied the pair, relieved to see them at ease, and hoped to keep things enjoyable for them and the group.

Tommy’s heart jumped as Arya spoke from behind them, he had been so preoccupied with Phia and Menzai that she had snuck up on him. Thankfully she used the same calendar and told him what he needed to know to give Bastion a real answer. He finally took a hand off Bastion to glance at the marble still clutched in his hand before finding a pocket to stow it. He stammered to himself counting on his hand the months since he lost his home. He starts counting backwards, for a moment he hesitates to count Nymm but continues after a moment.

”Lharvivon... Nymm, Dravago, Eyre, Theren… Four, it’s been four months.” Tommy's hand returns to holding Bastion's head.

”I stole a ticket, took an empty room, and hid until the ship started to crash.” Tommy looked down at Bastion, almost expecting a lecture after openly admitting to taking a ticket without paying.

“Four months is far too long for you to have been alone.” Bastion lamented. “I am truly sorry that such was your fortune, Tommy.” The warforged reached his other hand up to offer a comforting pat upon Tommy’s arm. “But such misfortune is over. You are with us, now.”

“Oh, you poor thing.” Phia said softly with a sympathetic frown. Her steps slowed as they reached the front of the Kraken’s Wake, and she gestured toward the building. “Here is the tavern.” she announced, as if it were not already very obvious.

Turning on her heels, she looked up at Tommy with concern. “Are you hungry? Or would you rather bathe or rest first?”

Then she added, “I have plenty of soap you may use… And I used to scrub the cubs’ little heads if you need some help.”

Arya frowned when the boy announced he had been alone for four months. She cringed. That was far too long to be alone, which her companions replied to out loud. Arya sympathetically glanced at him and tightened her hands around her hood, and allowed silence in order for Tommy to reply. She let out a deep sigh for now, content with her choice and the long-needed bath and food.

Tommy stared at the tavern entrance, Bastion could fit through but not enough that he wanted to risk him doing it while sitting on his shoulder. Releasing Bastion's head he scooted over to climb down the large metal man's arm. Bastion responded quickly, kneeling to let him down without a word.

Once his feet touched down he walked over to Phia taking her hand, he figured this was not a place for a child to be observed unattended. As for her question, he felt Menzai had made it clear bathing was not a suggestion. Besides, he did not want to have to rush getting warm food.

”Bath.” He responded bluntly, his off hand wrapping around his chest.



The robed wolf looked to Tommy with a sympathetic expression, finding the prospect of being alone for 4 months horribly unfortunate. Yet, to see him unharmed and well showed ingenuity and signs of survival expertise.” It is fortunate and impressive that you managed to get by in all that time, but fret not, Sir Tommy. With us, you may not need to venture alone any longer.” Menzai assured in a comforting tone.

Turning his eye to sweet Phia with a light smile, the way she doted like a worried mother, the cubs often adored having her scrub and wash them.” There are no softer hands to trust than sweet Phia’s. You are in good hands.” A nod as he looked to the tavern and gave a pondering scratch of his chin.” Hm, allow me to handle the bath request and orders, if that is fine? Any particular food requests?” He looked at each member of the group curiously. Pausing at Bastion, he tilted his head, pondering and hopeful that the tavern might have oil in stock.

Tommy had felt his face warm, knowing his cheeks gave himself away. Their doting was welcomed, but being compared to a stray cub was more than he liked. He had started to pout at the notion despite not knowing if that's what she meant or not.

”Something warm, and not old.” Tommy pushed out the words through puffy cheeks.




A few minutes later…


Menzai walked with a slow, steady pace, almost as if purposefully delaying his arrival. The orders and acquiring the bath permission had him trailing behind; the rest had gone on ahead to the bathhouse. His right clawed fingers pinched at his nose. The orders had been simple enough: getting Phia her meat dishes with juice, with no greens (blah), Arya some salad, and various side toppings of fruits and water. Tommy’s request had been peculiar, but he could tell he was in a bit of a bad mood.

For him, he thought of some good cozy soup, perhaps dumplings. Easy on a tired stomach and warming for those down and upset, with some juice.

A pause in handling money for those who preferred paying for themselves, though openly offered to pay as both a thank you and an apology for any awkwardness, his insistence to bathe, and simply wanted to. The bathhouse took double the usual price, but the bartender’s crude remark about hogging the bathhouse with such a group.

A disapproving shake of the head, detesting being seen like any of the vile denizens of this island. A heavy sigh as he lifted his head to the glint of bronze and came to a stop beside the warforged. Lifting his head while raising his right hand, the sleeve falling, revealing a bottle of basic engine oil.” For you, sir Bastion. My thanks for keeping watch, and know that your stoutly protective and calming presence is most appreciated, though I wish they had a more premium oil.” A gentle tap, tap pat of his free hand against his smooth metallic arm. As Menzai reached for the doorknob, he paused with a raised finger.” Ah, and Sir Bastion, if any of those wandering eyes attempts to bother or intrude, do feel free to do what needs be to scare the peepers off.” A snarling glare aimed down the hallway, sensing the wicked lurkers, a silent howling warning directed at them.

Then, with a calming turn of the head and a nervous inhale hesitantly stepped inside.



The air was thick with warm steam, heavy enough to cling to skin and hair within moments of entry. Water trickled from pipes and spouts constantly, filling the room with the soft sound of running water and occasional hollow drip into the various wooden tubs. The air carried the clean aroma of soap and wet wood while runes pulsed along the walls to keep the bathing room comfortable.

The door creaked open as Phia hurried in, Tommy in tow, and their hands clasped.
A small woven basket was tucked against her hip with little soaps wrapped in leaves and scraps of cloth. She had a look of enthusiastic determination on her face.

“Come, come. “ She stopped near one of the tubs and set her basket down. Then, she began unraveling the soaps from the leaves and showcasing them to Tommy.

“I have fruity soap.” She informed him and lifted a lump of pink and orange. “I have soap that smells like flowers.” She picked up a cream-colored bar with tiny petals pressed into it. “And then this is my pretty soap.” The last one was a lavender colored soap with dried lavender.

Phia smiled at him, giddy as if she had just shown him precious treasures. “What shall you choose, Tommy?”



Tommy stood quiet as Phia unloaded her collection, listening to her list out each of them with delight. Each option was no more enticing than the last to him, alas she would not be satisfied unless he chose. He could at least do that with the kindness she has shown him.

”That… that one's fine Phia.” He pointed at the floral soap. Tommy held his arm aloft stiff as a board as his anxiety towards what's about to happen took hold. He moved to a bench to sit trying to keep himself together.

Phia looked at the floral soap, then back at Tommy. Her smile softened when she noticed how stiffly he held himself.“Flower soap is good,” she said with a firm nod.“Gentle.”

Then, she turned toward the tub and began preparing it. She dipped her fingers into the water, testing the warmth, then added a little more from the spout. From her basket, she then pinched a few dried herbs and petals between her fingers, crumbling them into the water. The floral scent bloomed through the steam. She stirred the water with her fingertips, then set the flower soap on the edge of the tub within reach.

Only then did she glance back at him. “You can start to get ready,” she told him softly. She leaned over the tub, sniffed, then added one last petal with a satisfied hum.“There. Now it smells like flowers instead of feet.”

Phia prepared the tub with such kindness and grace, Tommy lamented that it has been some time since this kind of compassion was shown to him. Comparing her to Evita was a night and day difference, this wasn't an act she was putting on as far as he could tell.

Tommy set down the rolled up cloak that hid his sword.

Like a calm wind on a warm day, or a gentle stream flowing around a stone. A compassion that came earnest and free, Phia wanted to help. But would there be a cost?

Next his pouches and harness came off to sit beside him.

Even the others here looked at him with bright eyes that wanted to see him shine as well. Their own questions and reservations took a back seat while more pressing needs were met. Would they even ask for anything in return?

He removed his vest and began unbuttoning his shirt.

A rush of dread, would it change things? He felt his hairs stand and his skin cool, would they think less of him? A lump in the throat and he felt the tears welling under his eyes, would they demand the story?

He froze, each button on the shirt a seal to a forbidden tome, each a step towards an irrefutable truth. A monument to crimes he never wanted to commit.

With the steam wafting around him he sat, a statue of ice with shaky breath and trembling hands, his eyes glued to the floor. Resolve shattered under the weight of what would come next.

Phia glanced over, noticing that he had suddenly froze right where he was. “Would you like help, Tommy?” she offered.

It wouldn’t stop, the shaking… it came from everywhere. His hands trembled in his lap, his leg bounced urging him to flee, his breath came out rapid and forced. She offered help but the only thing she could do now was force his hand.

He was not ready to face that demon, it clung to him, a reminder that now and then he was always going to be the product of a lie. The chains, the cracking of whip and bone, the sobs and screams. The last day he ever wanted to remember, the last day they were still there.

Bittersweet, cold, and terrifying.

”Help.” The words came small, short, almost without sound. He dared not look up, he felt it, the look in his eyes screamed at the world.

But even then he did not want it directed to them, this was not their fault.

As Phia’s hands took his sleeves lifting the shirt from his arms his lips spoke a whole truth he desperately wanted to scream.

”It wasn't my fault.”



Phia’s hands stilled, the shirt raised up off his back still.

For a moment, the sound of the running water and rushing steam seemed louder than everything else. Her pupils slowly shrank and her breath caught in her chest as her eyes traced the marks across his back despite herself. Her grip on the fabric of his shirt tightened ever so slightly… Then her eyes began to sting with tears.

“Oh, Tommy…” She breathed finally, her expression crumbling.

She then moved slower as she finished removing his shirt, as if she were trying to prevent startling an injured animal that might bolt at any moment. “I know.” She whispered finally. “ It was not your fault.”

Once his arms left the sleeves they snapped back to wrap around himself, a desperate yet futile attempt to hold him together. It stung, Tommy could not tell if it was the open air or their eyes that produced the sensation, like salt being pressed into an open wound.

He hunched forward letting his head hang, his nose ran, his breath came in desperate gasps, and his eyes bled clear. A waterfall from months of suffering, spilling onto the floor.

Then she moved to kneel in front of him, and said softer. “You are safe with me. I will never hurt you.” She explained to him. “And I will protect you from those who would.”

Menzai walked his way from the towel cabinet, carrying multiple towels with a slow pace and a slight anxiousness to his steps. He moved with a cautious gaze, ears perked, wanting to avoid any accidental peeks; finding the bathing situation awkward enough as is.

The sound of splashing water and rustling clothes caught his flicking ear’s attention. As he went to inspect, he soon heard sweet Phia’s voice, low and soothing, more so than usual, as if she was tending to a timid cub. Concern etched his brow, recalling how anxious and hesitant Tommy had been at the prospect of bathing. As he stepped up to the divider, the wolf peered around; eyes widened in shock and horror, glimpsing Tommy’s heavily scarred back. He stepped back sharply with his back to the divider; a trembling hand clutched at the front of his haori, fighting back tears threatening to well up. To bear witness to such a painful and cruel sight left Menzai feeling immensely guilty and remorseful. And had he known, he would have never pushed Tommy into such a vulnerable situation. His ears flattened, hating himself for pressuring him, furious at whoever would dare harm such a sweet little one; as if survival alone hadn’t been cruel enough.

His trembling hand tightened against the haori, its snowy silky presence giving him a stabling comfort as his own scars ached beneath, but he was a hunter, a predator; battle scars for oruna wolves were unavoidable. But Tommy? What reason could one have to mark him so despicably? Menzai glanced over his shoulder, thankful sweet Phia was there with him; her motherly, gentle touch was just the thing to soothe the nervous, marred little one. Feeling that his presence would only serve to frighten him more, the wolf gently tapped against the divider.” Forgive the interruption; I wish to let you know I shall be leaving some extra towels out here in case they are needed.” He spoke softly, a slight crack in his stoic tone as faint rustling of him placing towels down.” Please be at ease and know I shall be keeping watch…and si-” Menzai attempted to give an apology to Tommy, but the words caught in his throat; guilt made him doubt he had any right to speak to him.” And..sweet Phia, do give Sir Tommy the best care.” Was all he could muster.

With a shaky breath, the robed wolf stepped away, curious to have noticed Arya wasn’t with them. Had she seen Tommy’s scarred frame as well? An unpleasant enough sight for him that he could only wonder how much it may have hurt her as well. Needing to make sure she was ok, Menzai quietly made his way through the bathhouse towards the only other source of running water, his head kept downward to avoid any accidental peeks; he felt ashamed as is, the last thing he wanted was to be viewed as a creep on top of it.

Arya had been watching quietly from the side. She wasn’t sure if she should assist Phia or not, but it seemed like she had it under control. The idea of Menzai guarding her both comforted and terrified her. What if he wasn’t who she thought he might be? What if he was like one of them? She bit her lip and froze on the spot indecisively.

As she stood there, however, she noticed Tommy’s back. Her chest tightened and a lump formed in her throat and her vision blurred from tears. His sudden breakdown caused Arya’s heart to sink. What had happened to him? While Menzai set the towels down, she noticed a crack in his stoic demeanor. Stella ruffled her feathers and watched intently, and she knew her eagle was capable of at least understanding the gravity of Tommy’s emotions. She crossed over to Phia and Tommy carefully and slowly, ensuring none of her movements were too sudden.

”Tommy,” Arya spoke gently, and avoided eye contact with him. ”Please know that you are safe and protected here. We will never hurt you.” She blinked away her tears. ”We are going to get through this and if you need Menzai or I, we will be nearby. We are here for you, Tommy. Take your time.” Sympathy and empathy for him rose inside of her. They could relate. She swallowed hard and smiled softly down at Phia. It pained her to know someone else had suffered–suffered in a way that seemed all too familiar.

”You are extraordinary.” She patted his head and then she left to go take her own bath. She did her best to remain impassive.

He had caught it just before it happened, his hand jerked in desperation trying to reach out to Arya. Yet he stopped it, between the gasping and sniffling he did not yet understand why he suddenly yearned for the star skinned woman to remain.

He raised his head to meet Phia’s gaze, finally taking note of her amber eyes. The same eyes as another he once held dear. It was not her face he saw, it was his. Gideon, the foundation holding him together, the only one he knew was still out there, the reason he chose to board that airship. The last one that called him “extraordinary.”

His skin warmed, the breaths came easier, the shaking settled. He was not okay, but for the moment he was grounded. At least he now knew why Arya had caused the reaction.

He moved to stand, knees still unwilling to hold his weight with confidence. Before she could respond in kind he rested his head between her shoulder and neck, his hands remained wrapped around himself. Even if he could not bring himself to hug her, he wanted her to know he at least had some faith in her. Once he made contact he could tell he was still shaking more than he thought.

Though he had yet to dam the tears.

Phia gently laid her head on his in turn. She didn't wrap her arms around him or try to pull him closer. She simply stayed there, letting him lean against her for as long as he wished. She only broke away once Tommy did. At that point, she reached up with slow movements and brushed the tears from his cheeks

“Let me know when you are ready.”



Tommy still sniffled trying to keep his snot from running down her shoulder, the tears slowed but still ran. Her hands wiped his red cheeks with care, slow and deliberate to comfort a weary soul.

He was too shaken to take off his boots standing up, returning to the bench he finally started to release the stands holding them to his feet. He kicked them under the bench unconcerned with the sight of them lazily laying under him.

When Tommy reached for his waistband he paused, looking up at Phia with a sudden look of embarrassment.

”Can… can you turn around?” Tommy’s gaze returned to the floor trying to obscure the bright red blush he now wore.

Phia’s gaze softened then she gave a hasty nod, as if this was an important request to honor. Without asking why, she spun around until her back was to him and fixated on a random hole in the ceiling.

Tommy remembered the two hours prince Ravic had given the group was ticking away, in a fit of rushed panic he removed his trousers and under coverings before climbing into the tub. He did not want to waste any more time than he already had. The warm water was a familiar sensation, like being embraced by an old friend. He turned in the tub so only his head and two small hands gripping the edge were visible to her.

”I’m in Phia!” He called louder than he had intended. He wondered if his voice was going from all the strain.



“You are in.” Phia echoed and hesitantly turned back around to face him. His little head looked so cute peeking out of the water that she had to bite her lip and smother a giggle rising in her throat.


“Can I wash your hair?” She asked, already skipping to stand behind him.

Tommy gazed up at Phia standing over him, hearing her ask for permission to wash his hair. Although her tone suggested she wanted the honor rather than his permission. He affirmed her request with a big nod and a quick ”mhm!” before sinking his head down below the water. Only to come back up just enough for his eyes to peer out and blow bubbles in the water through his nose.

Phia made a little excited noise and pulled the bench behind her closer with her foot. Then, she took a seat and began lathering her hands up with the floral soap. Carefully, she began to disperse the soap into his hair with gentle movements on his scalp. “The cubs back in the Oruna Tribe used to love it when I told them stories.” She informed him. “ Here’s a good one.”

She cleared her throat. “ There was once a little duck named…” Phia drew off for a moment, her eyes rolling toward the ceiling as if that might draw out a name she could use. “ …Ducky.”



“He was very small with tiny little legs, so small that the reeds around him looked like trees and the stones were like big mountains!” Phia threw her arms upward as if to present the size of these ‘mountains.’ “Then one day, a great storm came and the poor little duck was swept away from his nest! Swoosh!”

“And when the sun finally emerged from the clouds, he could not find his family. The only thing Ducky could find were his own little footprints in the mud. So then he waddled forward..” His hair was sufficiently lathered now. “ He found a river and asked the river if he had seen his family, but the river only carried him forward. Then he asked the moon and the moon only brightened the way so he wouldn’t be scared in the dark. He asked the frogs, the dragonflies and even a stinky rude fish.”

“Everywhere he went he was lonely… But more than that, he was also very brave. He kept going forward even when his little ducky feet hurt. He kept swimming even when the water was cold. He kept quacking… Even when no one answered.”

She cupped her hands together and began scooping warm water on to his hair to rinse it. “ Then one day he found a pond full of strange creatures. A turtle who was very slow but would follow him wherever he went. A bird with pretty feathers who could tell him where the best berries grew. A frog who would sing too loudly and fill the moments that were too quiet. And so he decided to stay with them.”

She did another rinse and her voice softened as she told him, “They were not the family he lost.... “ Phia brushed his hair back gently so it wouldn’t fall in his face. After that, she rose to her feet. “But when the little duck slept, they stayed near him. When Ducky was hungry, they shared food. And after a while, Ducky didn’t feel so lonely anymore. And he lived happily ever after.”



Tommy listened to her intensely as she spoke, his eyes sparkled listening to the story of the little duck. The little ducky getting a new family gave him a warm feeling as she finished rinsing the soap from his hair. It sat around him feeling much lighter despite being soaking wet.

Phia swung her head around to meet his eyes, her hair practically falling down into the tub water as she smiled at him. “You can use the soap to wash yourself and I’ll be right here if you need me, yes?”

”Mhm.” Tommy nodded his head peering over the edge of the tub as she walked away to take her own bath. Now that he had sat in the tub for a while the grime and sweat came off very easily. He hummed in satisfaction thinking about the little duck having a good life with his new family.

”Are you having fun?” A familiar voice called out. Tommy turned in panic trying to locate the source of the voice, but nothing was there. None of the others reacted to the voice, Tommy tried to shrug it off as his imagination.

The nagging sensation returned, what was he forgetting?

After a few moments he returned to washing himself, he forgot about the duck and continued scrubbing off months of jungle filth.

The four of them sat in separate tubs each tending to themselves. Menzai and Arya had been talking to each other from across the room. Phia had been hum singing to herself as she took her time with her assortment of soaps. Tommy had finished his bath before the others, quietly he redressed before any of them got out. He just finished putting on his gear and pouches as Menzai and Arya reappeared, fully dried and dressed. Phia took longer, having had to use some of her time on Tommy. Besides it sounded like she was having a good time so none of the others said anything as they left the bath to reunite with Bastion.


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Hidden 13 days ago 13 days ago Post by Lava Alckon
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Lava Alckon

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Phia & Corin




Phia had stopped so suddenly in the middle of the market that anyone behind her nearly walked into her. Her amber eyes widened as she spread her arms wide, trying to block as much of the path as she could from those coming and going.

“Move,” she demanded, stepping forward. “Move from the path. All of you. Now, please.”

A few people turned at once, startled by the urgency in her voice. Someone cursed under their breath, and another reached for the knife at their belt. But Phia did not yet explain.

She instead hurried ahead, waving people aside. “Do not stand there. She is coming through.”

Only then did the cause of the alarm become clear.

A mother duck waddled out from between two market stalls, her long line of fluffy ducklings waddling after her.


“Is she serious?” someone muttered.

A drunk man near the fish stall scoffed. “Oi, what gives you the right to start a hold up, lass? …You’re not even from here, are ye?”

Phia’s eyes stayed fixed on the tiny ducklings wobbling across the stones. “Because her babies are very small.”

The mother duck quacked as she passed his boot.

The heavy thud of plate-mail washed over the now hushed crowd as the seasoned war veteran made his way towards the center of the commotion. Of course it’s you. He thought to himself. Nearing the make-shift duck crossing, Corin gave the ornery drunken man a firm pat. A gentle warning, but a warning none the less.

He observed the sight before him, the cute waddling line of ducks passing by as their mother gave a resounding quack, assuredly thinking she owned the market square in no small thanks to Phia’s intervention. ”Well hello again, Phia. It would seem you are up to no small task, as per usual. Protecting the little ones from harm?” He gave the small ducks a wave as they marched about on their journey. As weird as it would seem, he appreciated that facet about her. It gave him a reason to treat her like an ally rather than someone to be wary about.

Phia beamed immediately at the sound of Corin’s voice. She hurried up to him without hesitation, her steps eager. “Hello friend Corin.” She greeted him softly and warmly as she planted her feet into his personal space. “They needed my help.” She explained simply.

Corin looked past her and pointed at the row of ducks wandering off. ”Do they...still need your help?” He wondered how long the little ones would last without their guiding light. But that guiding light was now standing inches away from him. He did not move, nor seem perturbed by it, he just treated it as the way things were. ”Or must a mother eventually let her little ones run off on their own?”

Phia looked over at the ducks as they made their way downhill toward a small pond. “The ducks have found their destination. They do not need our help.” She informed Corin. She watched, waiting for them to arrive at the water, then she clasped her hands together and smiled as she watched each of them lower into the pond.


Her attention returned squarely on Corin, and she asked, “And did you find what you needed at the shops?”

Corin, reaching into his bag, showed her the fruits of his labor. A whopping assortment of metal, bolts, rivets, and a various assorted pile of bits and bobs that would make little sense to her.

A glimmer of intrigue filled Phia’s eyes as she got on her tiptoes to examine the items as they gleamed in the sunlight. “Ooo.”



”Just some arts and crafts for a possible workaround for our fancy little gizmos.” He discreetly motioned to his collarbone, where the peak of his gem would be poking out. Phia’s gaze locked on the gem, and her brows lifted with understanding before he moved his tunic back up to hide it.

“You all had some lovely ideas, so I wanted to try and see if I could bring one of them to life.” Corin tied up the bag and tossed it back over his shoulder. “What exactly have you been up to aside from being a herald of nature’s finest critters?”

“I took a bath, and I helped Tommy take a bath too… Wanna smell?” Phia offered a lock of her hair toward him with a pleasant smile.

Corin looked a little shocked at first, but took the lock and leaned down to give it a quick whiff. ”Oh!” The scent was rather pleasing, like fresh daisies. ”You certainly did clean up well. You smell lovely, Phia!” Corin took a moment to smell the back of his own hand, as if wondering if he too already began to stink, but he didn’t seem to smell.

Phia also leaned in to smell his hand, albeit uninvited. She nodded approvingly.

”Well it would seem the both of us are free for the last little stretch of time before we head to this perilous island. What exactly do you propose we do with our free time?”

“I propose we go look for pretty seashells.” Phia suggested. She looked into the distance toward the ocean, her hair dancing in the breeze behind her. “The water smells nice. The beach is a long walk from my home… Do you live near the water, Corin?”

He took paces with her towards the beach, the quest for seashells now on their mind. ”The water does smell nice. The sea can be…quite salty to the back of your throat but it carries a nice aroma.” Making their way towards the edge of the docks, and slowly traversing over some dirt paths, Corin had taken the time to admire more of the scenery during this small jaunt of theirs. This was actually a rather serene place if you didn’t account for the literal pirate’s den just a few dozen feet behind them.

”My hometown was rather landlocked. You would need to make a long trip to see the water. My family managed it once, my wife-” He stopped. How long had it been since he talked about her? Days? Weeks? Months? He almost pushed the topic out of every conversation subconsciously, not wanting to re-open old wounds. Corin hardly knew why it had suddenly slipped out, but he certainly found it shocking - like a sudden wall stopped him from moving forward.

He shook his head and continued as if nothing had happened. ”My family managed the trip once, we saved up all of our money. Our daughter loved it.” He suddenly spoke softly, as if the very mention of them would shatter their memory.

Phia’s smile faded a little when his voice changed. She tilted her head dramatically, watching him closely. “You are sad.” Her brows knit together with sudden understanding as she assumed, “Because the flying beast fell before you could travel to them? ” She skipped a little ahead of him, turning to walk backwards so they spoke.

If only that were the half of it.

”No no, Phia. They were gone long before the flying beast fell.” He carried the words so casually, not even trying to correct the proper use of the term “ship”. ”They were taken from me during the Mourning. I am not sure how you may refer to it – but that giant flash of magic that happened back some years ago that wiped out the nation of Cyre? I was away on a mission…they did not make it.” As they approached the beachfront, he felt his footsteps get heavier. Not on purpose. But like a physical weight was pushing onto him.

”I do not mean to bring your spirits down. It just suddenly hit me that it’s been almost…what? 5 years already? Hard to believe it, when it feels like it was yesterday.” Corin looked up, seeing the graceful druid walking backwards with the determination to listen to him speak. He couldn’t help but crack a half smile.

Phia’s steps slowed, and her feet came to a stop in the sand as she stared at Corin. Then her eyes grew glassy with tears. “Oh.”

She looked down for a moment, as if searching the sand for the right words. Then, suddenly and without much warning, she stepped forward and wrapped her arms around him more tightly than one should do to a stranger. Phia hugged him like she meant to hold the broken pieces of him together by force if she had to.



“I am sorry, Corin,” she murmured against his shirt. “I was taught the dead do not leave the path. We only stop seeing their feet beside ours.” Her voice trembled, but she kept speaking. “They walk in step with us. In the wind. In the trees. In the bones under the earth. In the stars when they are watching us…”

At last, she loosened her arms enough to look up at him. “I lost my first family, too. But… I do not remember them.” Her brows knit together. “Sometimes I wish I could… I think there is a hole in my heart where they remain anyway.”

She gave him a small, sad smile. “But then I found new family. Menzai. The Oruna. Maybe others now.” Her hand pressed gently over her chest. “They did not fill the hole.”

Phia sniffled, then reached for his hand with both of hers. “But it made it smaller.” She smiled up at him. “So… if you do not have family beside you now, I will be your family… Maybe I can make your hole smaller.”

The sudden embrace certainly caught him by surprise. Corin lifted his arms, unsure of what to do with them as she chose to snuggle up to him. Then she buried her face into his shirt, and something snapped in his chest. ”Phia…” The words touched his heart. She was right, in a way his family was never truly gone, but there were still those he could yet be with. A second family to make the void less of a void, and more of a soft yearning.

”You do me a great honor by offering me such things.” It was when she loosened her arms that he finally returned the hug, looking down at her with a much less somber face. ”Allow me to offer you the same. If there is anything you should need, I will make your hole smaller as well, then.” He wondered if it was a blessing or a curse that she did not remember her first family – but either way she still knew. She still carried that pain. Here he was wallowing when she was still this beacon of sunshine despite it all. He could learn a thing or two from Phia.

”Or at least. I will try.” He took his hands and held the sides of her cheeks, an oddly intimate gesture that he often did back home when his wife or daughter needed someone to comfort them. His thumbs brushed against her ears while the two shared that soft moment. ”How fortunate I was to stumble upon this funny little group of adventurers. I think such fortune deserves commemoration in the form of seashells. Or do you wish to try and crush my ribs a little more?” He said half-jokingly. Between getting his ribs crushed against a tree limb and crushed between her arms–there was a clear winner here.

Phia’s lips curled into a pleased little smile as she leaned into his hands without hesitation, nuzzling against his palms as if this was a normal reaction. “Do not worry,” she said with complete seriousness. “If I wanted to crush your ribs, you would know.”

Then her eyes brightened again. “But it is seashell time now.” And just like that, she slipped away and crouched down into the sand, fingers already combing eagerly through it.

Corin felt a brief pause at that mild threat, but coming from her it was more so a declaration rather than sharing intent to actually crush his ribs. ”I suppose the same goes for me – let us not crush ribs and instead find some shells. Do you have any particular ones you like?” He took his place a few feet to her side, sifting through the sand and taking his time to find a few particular ones that looked pretty in the sunlight.

“I like the pretty and shiny ones.” Phia informed him as she selected a light blue one. It glimmered under the sunlight before him as she held it up toward his eyes.

Spending a few minutes, Corin had not much to show initially. A few peach colored shells, a single black colored shell, and a few ones with bumps and holes in it. Corin frowned at the initial findings, making his way towards Phia and presenting his smaller findings. ”Not much here yet. I imagine you’re looking for something far more sparkly.”

Phia was already sitting cross-legged in the sand by the time he returned. Around her sat an intimidating mountain of seashells she'd gathered in his absence. She looked up at Corin, studied the shells in his hands for a long moment, then her face lit up.

“These are good.” She reached out to accept them and specifically pocketed the ones he had found in her pouch.“I can make you trinkets to adorn your shiny armor.” Her eyes drifted over the gemstones set into his equipment with obvious fascination. “I like looking at the shiny gems you wear.”

She unearthed a rather large rock caked with dirt from the sand with both hands and proudly set it next to her seashells. “I collect shiny things too.” Phia gestured to some of the little charms and jewels hanging from parts of her clothing. “Back home I have a whole cave full of them.”



Corin took the time to look between his spoils and hers. Clearly she had a knack for this. Still, she saw value in them and that’s what mattered. His fingers tapped against the shiny gems adorning his necklace, the faint magic within them humming to life as he tapped the amethyst, citrine, and diamond. ”These ones are extra special. They represent the things I’ve lost, and what I vowed in order to stop them from being lost again.” He took a moment and lifted one of her charms that she showed off, nodding in approval.

Phia’s eyes widened as the gems hummed, her attention locking onto them with wonder.

”A whole cave, huh? I think that’s rather impressive. I only have these few. But it sounds like you’ll be giving me some more. I don’t mind in the slightest, but I’d personally rather wear them like you do. On my regular clothes. So people other than those I fight can see them.” Looking through the seashells, he scanned over them with his eyes, not daring to disturb her precarious setup. ”What do you think best suits me? I feel so out of water here. Your fashion sense is a lot better than mine!” Corin chuckled before knocking against his platemail with a resounding few clunky knocks.

She sifted through the shells, then held up a pale, large one with soft purple streaks. “This one. It feels like you.” She smiled proudly.

Corin nodded at her pick, finding it rather suitable to his usual style. ”You have a good eye. What do you think? Necklace? Wristlet? I think it would make a nice ring but that might take too much time…” Corin thought about how it might look, and asked her an honest question. ”Perhaps a wristlet would be nice?”

“A wristlet is good,” Phia decided after a pause. “Then when you swing your sword, it will remember you are not only made for fighting.”

Those words froze him again. Corin looked at her, such an innocent creature in the world, even if she had those random spouts of profound capability. She seemed so…well founded. Twice had she spoken such revealing words about him and twice she had caught him off guard–a feat not many can hold.

”Yeah. Not only made for fighting.”



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Hidden 10 days ago Post by Oso
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Oso

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Bastion


Race: Warforged
Class: Guardian
Location: The Kraken's Wake Seadragon Keep
Mentions: Trin
Equipment:

Attire:
Etched and weathered ivory metal plating with bronze accents.
Fitted harness for carrying supplies.
Worn scarf
Gold Balance: 48 gold
Injuries:
Left shoulder was injured in the battle and is still leaking fluid.



The small, miserable, pathetic goblin’s body came rolling too close to the dark water below, and…well… Bastion moved.

One heavy foot came down between Trin and the drop, the dock groaning beneath the sudden weight of the Warforged. Trin stopped short of him in a tangle of limbs, rope, rags, and panic.

Bastion looked down and for a long second, he said nothing.

The goblin was soaked through and filthy, shaking so hard that the torn cloth hanging from him trembled like the rest of him. His wide eyes darted from face to face, searching for danger and finding it everywhere. His hands clutched at his ruined shirt, trying to drag the fabric closed over the pale blue-white handprint glowing beneath.

Bastion saw it, and with a dog-like curious tilt of the head, he pondered what it could be.

The mark pulsed weakly through the Goblin’s grime and tears, the print too large to belong to the goblin himself. A hand pressed into him from collarbone to ribs, almost as though he had been branded with it.

Bastion’s jaw shifted once. He knew very little about fear as flesh understood it. His body did not tremble, his breath did not catch, his heart did not race…but yet, in his way, he knew what it felt like to be afraid.

Slowly, Bastion lowered himself into a crouch. The dock creaked again, boards screaming under the rearrangement of his weight. When he spoke, his tone was calm.

“Do not worry, little green man.”

His voice was full of what comfort a Warforged could possibly muster.

“We will not harm you.”

Bastion’s hand lowered toward Trin, palm open and peaceful as he offered it to the little creature.

“You are far too small and weak to be a threat to my friends, so you are safe with me. Otherwise I would have pulverized your bones already.” The construct’s mouth twisted into a warforged’s version of a smile.


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Hidden 6 days ago 6 days ago Post by Apex Sunburn
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Location: The Mercy
Race: Dark Elf & Human
Class: Artificer & Rogue
Interactions:
Mentions:
Equipment:
Attire:
Gold: 111
Injuries:

Doing something about his pirate guard’s rot problem had, in hindsight, been a terrible mistake.

Unfortunately for Scaerthrynne, that realisation came too late for it to be useful. Three similarly rot-infested pirates—soon to be four—too late, to be precise. He had only himself to blame for his woes, really. Pirates were, after all, hardly the sort to remain tight-lipped around their salt-stained fellows. For his unwanted and unnecessary guard to tell quite literally anyone who poked a head into the cabin about the dark elf who did something about his accursed itch was thus, logically speaking, only natural.

And so, as Scaerthrynne squinted at the angry, weeping sores blooming around—and on, in fact—the lips of patient number four, he grumbled inwardly about the natural state of things. Pinching a cotton ball damp with cleaning spirits between the points of a pair of tweezers, he not-so-gently dabbed at the wounds. The young man—young enough to have only a few whiskers dusting his chin—flinched. He hissed, drawing in a sharp breath through his teeth.

“Be quiet,” Scaerthrynne said tersely. Pus quickly stained the cotton ball a sickly yellow. He huffed, tossing it onto the cluttered table. If it hadn’t been dirtied by the man’s wounds earlier, then touching the somewhat rotted, probably woodworm infested, and gnarled tabletop certainly rendered it utterly filthy. Scaerthrynne’s already sharp features sharpened even more in annoyance.

“What a waste of perfectly good supplies,” he muttered beneath his breath. Frustration gnawed at him. His patience grew thin. He looked at the young man, and with barely hidden disgust and contempt in his voice, said, “You know, there’s a reason we call it crotch rot and not mouth rot.”

“Well, rot’s rot, innit?” the young pirate mumbled, still wincing.

Scaerthrynne fixed him with a deadpan stare. “I’m not sure if you’ve noticed, but crotch rot usually appears around a crotch. Thus the name. I’m curious as to how you managed to get it around your mouth. Are you such a confusing individual that even a disease gets lost?”

A deep crimson washed over the pirate’s cheeks. He squirmed on the stool, averting his gaze.

Sighing, Scaerthrynne shook his head. “Val,” he called out.

He received no response.

“Val,” he repeated, firmer and louder this time. Still nothing. Clicking his tongue and furrowing his brow, he turned, his eyes meeting the back of the girl’s head. She sat facing the cabin’s blank wall, her arms folded tightly over her chest. “A reply would be nice.”

Vallena harrumphed, shaking her head. “No! I’m ignoring you!”

Normally, Scaerthrynne would’ve been annoyed by her behaviour, but he was inclined to let things slide on this particular occasion. He’d made her clean the cabin, after all, and despite her complaints, the odd dead animal here and there, and the generally unpleasant environment, she’d done a fine job. The bucket at his feet, filled with desiccated, broken carcasses—most of them had once been rats, but others were so badly decayed that it was impossible to tell what they’d been in life—was proof of that. It was also very likely the reason why she was so upset with him.

“You can get whatever you want yourself!” Vallena said with a huff.

“I don’t need you to get anything,” Scaerthrynne said flatly. “Just watch your ears.”

Vallena refused to look at him, but still she obediently pressed her hands flat against the sides of her head.

Scaerthrynne wasted no time. He snapped back around to face the young pirate, his expression dark, and his gaze piercing. “Listen up and listen close, you dumb bastard,” he said in a low voice. “I’m not an idiot. I know how you got your rot. Now, I don’t know which whorehouse you and your friends went to, but I’m not in the mood to treat all of you just because none of you have enough of a brain to understand how to keep yourselves clean. What made you think it was a good idea to kiss a lady’s rotted nether regions?”

“I–I don’t know what you’re talking—”

“Keep your voice down,” the dark elf hissed threateningly. “There are things I’d rather the girl not hear.”

The pirate gulped and nodded.

“Now, I’m bloody sick and tired of treating crotch rot. If you pirates want my help, the least you can do is to come to me with something interesting, and not something so pedestrian,” Scaerthrynne went on, shaking his head as he turned to the table. He rummaged around his bag and pulled out a bottle. Wider than it was tall, and capped with a cloth tied around its neck, it was stouter than the vials he’d been using. “Smear this on your sores twice a day. Don’t scratch them. Don’t even touch them. Tell your friends to do the same for their own rots.”

Scaerthrynne tossed the bottle over. The pirate caught it just in time.

“And above fucking all, keep yourselves clean,” the dark elf said, practically spitting his words out. “You’re all attached to your cocks, I’m sure. If you want to stay attached to them, then follow my instructions. You’ll have great futures as eunuchs to look forward to, otherwise.”

He fixed the pirate with a glare. “Do you understand?”

The pirate gulped, cradling the bottle close to his chest, and nodded quickly. It was almost comical how his head bobbed up and down like an out-of-control spring. Were he any less irritated, Scaerthrynne would’ve almost certainly cracked a smile. “Y-Yes,” the pirate managed to say. “Use the cream twice a day, wash up more often, and tell my mates to do the same, aye.”

Scaerthrynne waved him away. “Now, can you get the guard from before to come back? He’s taking a very long time for a piss. I’m starting to wonder if his rot’s gone up his cock. Now that would be interesting.”

“Oh, that’s just ol’ Nate for you,” the pirate replied. “Pisses a bloody river every damn time, he does.”

The dark elf blinked once, then shook his head. “Right, whatever,” he muttered. The stool’s legs screeched loudly against the floor as the pirate scrambled to his feet. Scaerthrynne paid him no heed whatsoever. He instead turned to Vallena, tapping her thrice on the shoulder. She uncovered her ears. “Did you manage to hear anything?”

The girl shook her head. “No,” she said. “But I’m still ignoring you!”

Scaerthyrnne suppressed the urge to chuckle. “Whatever you say, but can you just—”

A commotion from beyond the cabin’s door interrupted him. The sounds were muffled and garbled, but he could still make out voices—calm ones, thankfully—thudding footfalls, and the sharp, dragged out creak of wood being pried apart. It was that last one that alarmed Scaerthrynne the most.

“What was that?” Vallena squeaked.

“I don’t know,” he replied. Already, he was on his feet, his weapons slung and holstered on his person, and his hands busy packing away his items. He glanced furtively at the young pirate. The youth didn’t look as if he knew what was going on either. That was good. If there was something going on out there that took the pirates by surprise, then he had a chance to get Vallena and himself out of their predicament. They’d have to play things carefully, of course, to take full advantage of the potential chaos.

He slung his bags across his body and pushed his way past the young pirate. “But I plan to find out.”

Vallena nodded. She waddled after him, hefting the carcass-filled bucket with both hands. “I’ll take this out and empty it. I don’t want to see it anymore.”

Scaerthrynne glanced over his shoulder, arching a brow but not stopping her. A bucket full of dead critters might prove to be a useful distraction, if nothing else. Keeping a hand near his pistol’s holster, he drew in a deep breath, steadied himself, and burst through the cabin’s door…

…Only to find nothing on the ship’s deck.

Well, there were people. A lot of people, in fact. But there wasn’t the chaotic opportunity that he’d hoped to find. The pirates weren’t in a panic; they seemed relaxed, if anything. A crate with its top ripped open gave him all the explanation he needed for the loud creaking he’d heard earlier. He couldn't, however, find much of an explanation for the very small, very wet, and very lost goblin standing in the midst of beings far taller, and far bigger than he. Scaerthrynne certainly didn’t remember seeing the creature when he’d first arrived on the ship. Had it been kept in the now-opened crate all this while?

He shook his head slightly, clearing his head. Now wasn’t the time for useless thoughts.

“What’s going on?” he asked.

To his surprise, it wasn’t a pirate that answered him, but rather, Vallena. Although she didn’t answer him as much as she’d simply exclaimed, “Riddles!” She pulled at Scaerthrynne’s sleeve. “Look, look, Scratch! It’s Riddles and uh...other people.”

Scaerthrynne turned to look at the crowd. He had to be honest—he couldn’t remember any of their names, their faces, or even how they’d met, other than that they’d crossed paths on the Stormrider. “Other people, right,” he said. Nevertheless, he couldn’t help but arch a brow in surprise. He hadn’t been expecting to see anyone else from the airship here. Whether it was a good or bad thing remained to be seen. “I’m guessing you’re here for a pleasure cruise like the rest of us?”

“Hello again, Riddles!” Vallena greeted excitedly, waving her hand. The bucket slipped from the grip of her remaining fingers. It clattered loudly on the deck and tipped over, emptying its disgusting contents right by the girl’s feet. She looked down at it with wide eyes, and froze for a moment.

Then, she screamed. “Ew! Ew! Ew! Ew! Scratch! It’s all over my shoes! Get it off! Get it off!”

Scaerthrynne simply sighed and looked at everyone.

“Welcome aboard.”
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Hidden 6 days ago 6 days ago Post by Potter
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Potter

Member Seen 6 days ago

Race: Tiefling
Class: Ranger
Location: Port Verge
Interactions: @DWGJay
Equipment:

Attire: Outfit Hair
Gold Balance: 65
Injuries: Scars on body, old chain marks on wrists, ankles and neck, tattoo on wrist with number

The walk to the ship caused Arya’s nerves to be taut. She kept her hood tightly around her head. Behind her, Tommy clutched her cape. His reaction to the bath and seeing his back caused her chest to tighten. It was clear that something happened to him and she wouldn’t press him on it until he was ready to talk about it. She would be there to listen when he was ready. They were to alike and it caused her distress.

The ship’s name was cruel, and the horrific looking goblin they practically unboxed was a pathetic sight. Arya let out a deep sigh of frustration and distress. Arya kept Tommy to her side, and seeing the cruelty around them, decided to protect him. She wrapped her cloak around him gently and smiled down at him reassuringly. ”It’s okay,” Arya whispered to him gently. ”I’m here for you.” Stella remained hiding in her cloak and quiet, though her talons were digging into her shoulder.
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Hidden 6 days ago 6 days ago Post by princess
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princess

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🌸 Race: Half-Elf 🌸
🦋 Class: Druidic Mystic 🦋
🍄 Location: Port Verge, Lhazaar Principalities 🍄
🍃 Interactions: Scratch @Apex Sunburn Corin @Lava Alckon Bastion @Oso Menzai @Potter Arya @Tae Meiyu @FunnyGuy Malik Tommy @DWGJay
🌼 Equipment: 🌼

🪷 Attire: Outfit 🪷

🪞 Gold Balance: 6 🪞
🌸 Injuries: N/A. 🌸

Phia had decided, quite firmly, that she did not like these "pirates." She immediately glared at them, in fact, her eyes narrowing dramatically to make sure they knew she did not like them. Not one bit!

None of the three were spared. Every swaggering one of them was granted the displeasure of her amber stare. Her lips pushed forward into a pout. If the spirits of the Oruna had been watching, they would have known at once that judgment had been passed.

She did not trust this place. She did not trust their smiles.

Then her gaze shifted to the ship.

Phia stared at it for a long moment, her brows knitting together as she took in its state.“That boat is sick,” she said quietly.

But then Beckett took up the crowbar and Phia’s attention snapped back. The crate groaned open beneath his effort, and her fingers tightened around her staff.

Then the crate tipped and a small green body spilled out.

Phia’s eyes widened as the goblin tumbled across the dock. He was soaked through, filthy, too thin, and shaking. His huge eyes looked as if he expected pain.

And he had a glowing hand mark beneath his shirt!

The pout vanished.

Phia hurried forward before her brain could catch her by the wrist. Her bare feet slapped against the wet planks as she moved past. By the time Bastion lowered himself into a crouch, Phia was already dropping down beside him, knees meeting the dock with a thud.

Her staff clattered gently at her side.

“Are you okay?” she asked softly. “Little goblin? Did they hurt you?”

She glanced at Bastion, then back at Trin and nodded firmly.
“He's right. We would never pulverize your bones. We will instead keep your bones together.” She turned back to Trin once more, lifting both hands where he could see them and smiling.

Then her eyes flicked back toward Beckett.

And there it was again. The pout had returned, but this time it had teeth.

“You put him in a box,” she accused, her words heavy with moral certainty. “Boxes are not for people.”

Her gaze then shifted to the newcomers who joined, especially the screaming young girl. She wanted to go save the child from whatever was frightening her, but she also wanted to make sure the goblin was alright.

“...I am glad those two did not also arrive in boxes."

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Hidden 5 days ago Post by FunnyGuy
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FunnyGuy

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Miris


Race: Changeling
Location: An unremarkable jungle
FLASHBACK



“Ooh! I think we’re getting close.” Minerva faced Miris with that playful grin of hers.

“We’re almost out?” Miris’ eyes held a glint of hope as time had become so hard to keep track of at this point. She thought she’d get through this jungle in three days, but it was taking so much longer. Had she underestimated its vastness, or were the roving patrols and Minerva’s guidance causing her to wander in circles?

“Out? Tch, I’m good, thank you, but not that good.” Minerva shook her head before vaulting over an old moss-covered log. She had expected to hear Miris accomplish the same, but nothing was coming from the young changeling. “Hm?” Minerva turned her head and came to a stop upon noticing that Miris had quit walking.

“You just said…” Miris’ accent faintly bled with her frustration. “You said we were close.”

“We are.”

“But you just said we're nowhere near getting out.”

“Yeah, that's what I said.”

“...” If looks could maim. Miris wouldn't want her dead, but a loose tree branch falling on Minerva's head would have satisfied her.

“Those aren't the same thing, Miris.”

“Minerva…”

“You serious?” Miris stressed the question.

Minerva…” Minerva not answering right away only made things worse.

“No… no way.” Miris didn't want to believe it.

“You’re fuckin’ with me right?”

Minerva’s eyebrows rose, but her smile never faltered, mostly because she hadn’t heard this tone from the girl yet. In truth, she was just trying to hear more of how Miris spoke when she wasn't hiding herself.

“Minerva!”

“No, of course not! Sure, I throw stuff at you, trip you now and again, steal your stuff, ate your berries that one time-”

Those were my berries?”

“They were so good! Anyway… what I was trying to say is, leading you to the other side of this lush place is my top priority.” Minerva explained, but then the shifter's smile quickly became uneasy. “But… we are taking a different route than the hastier one.”

“What…” Miris inhaled through her nose.

“Relax,”

“Relax?!”

“Yes, so that I can explain. If you’re angry, you’ll only hear the parts that don’t matter. So be a good girl, and relax.”

A few beats passed between the two.

“Alrighty!” Minerva clapped her hands together. “Yours truly made the decision to have us trek across this fine jungle, safely.” Minerva let go of her smile and quickly held a hand up to stop Miris from replying too soon. “I know. You think you're a badass. You think you can hop, skip, and flip your way through all those pesky patrols and all this nature.” Minerva shook her head with displeasure.

“I can handle myself just fine.” Miris vaulted over the log in front of her, closing the distance between them. Their eyes locked briefly until Minerva rolled her eyes and sighed.

“Your version of fine doesn't stack up. Not here. Not even in most places out this direction. Beyond the jungle is the desert. Beyond the desert are the pirate-infested seas. Beyond that is… I don't know, it's probably much worse.” Minerva poked Miris’ chest, forcing a flinch out of the girl.

“Consider yourself my pupil in this jungle. And I'm gonna make sure you strut out of this place better than ‘fine,’ you hear me?” Minerva nodded, prompting Miris to do the same.

“Fine.” Miris muttered while taking the lead. She wasn't happy about what she thought would've been a shortcut taking nearly as long as walking around the jungle itself, but she couldn't argue with the results. Aside from that patrol… and Minerva had practically walked them into it on purpose, so they hadn't truly been in danger once. Which begged an uncomfortable question. How much worse was the route Minerva had chosen not to take?

“Better than fine, Miris. Better than fiiine” Minerva sang.

“Oh shut it.” She turned to smile back at Minerva. “What’re we close to, anyhow if it's not the other side?”

“Oh yes! Follow meee!” Minerva darted past her, sprinting and laughing as she took the lead again.

“Of course it couldn't be simple.” And with that, Miris was chasing after her.

“You’re gonna love it!”

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Hidden 5 days ago Post by samreaper
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samreaper Laughing Imp

Member Seen 4 hrs ago






Race: Silver-Wolf Shifter
Class: Arcane Mystic
Location: Bar
Interactions: : @princess Phia [oso] Bastion @Funnyguy Malik (Miris) @Lava alckon @tae Meiyu
Mentions: Corin@potter Arya/Stella @DWGjay Tommy @Apex Sunburn Scratch and Val
Equipment:

Attire:
Gold Balance: 47
Injuries:


The trek to meet at the ship had been a quiet one; now refreshed and with a warm meal that improved their dour moods, his in particular. With Phia at his side, the wolf moved, carrying a few boxes with simple meat dishes and sides of veggies and baked potatoes held in his left hand and a small sack filled with fresh fruits he brought along the way as light snacks for the group held gently in his right hand.

At times he checked on Arya and Tommy, keeping an eye out against any dangerous individuals as Tommy still seemed a bit shaken by the bath, though sweet Phia and Lady Arya ensured nothing but warm and kind comfort. Concern etched his eye, with guilt still lingering in his wake, and he had made a mental promise to talk with the scarred little one to make amends for his rashness in pressuring him.

It was not long before they had reached the port where their ship was waiting for them. A look of disdainful disgust appeared upon laying his eye on the rickety old rust bucket of a boat Prince Dane had so kindly offered the group, and he could only imagine the young prince laughing at them with this one last gift of insult.

The Mercy, A pitiful thing that looked ready to break apart from a light breeze, let alone any potential storm. A mercy they would even manage to set off, let alone reach the island, much to his disappointment with a shake of the head, though hardly unexpected; these pirates couldn’t be bothered to risk any of their actual ships. A flick of his ears, a twitch of the nose revealed faint sounds of footsteps from within, signs there was someone on the ship, but Beckett and his two cling-on stooges pulled his attention.

A soft scowling glower aimed at the despicably crude pirate as he spoke with a relishing mocking undertone and casual insults aimed at them. These hateful sorts held no such modicum of respect or manners, and they wanted nothing more than to be free of them and be on their way. And so opted to ignore them as he could, for any words would be wasted and be met with laughter.

A large box set by them was peculiar; the sounds of something shifting and moving around, almost as if it were afraid. A most unsettling and disturbing thought, and questions answered upon having the box tipped open to reveal a rather pitiful and sad-looking goblin who stood before them in naught but dirty rags.

His brows furrowed in a mix of anger and pity at these pirates' continued demonstrations of cruelty. Was this goblin meant to be their guide? And to have him shoved and lugged around in a box- such unnecessarily harsh treatment. Such a thing neither he nor any of the Oruna tribe would stand for; such mistreatment of an individual, and sweet Phia expectedly showed her pouting distaste of the whole debacle. A sentiment Menzai easily shared.

Then his ears flicked to the sound of wooden creaking, and he saw Bastion approach Trin, his metallic size proving too intimidating as the goblin tripped and fumbled in a small fit of panicked fumble.

His brow raised at the warforged's attempt at comforting the small, trembling mustached creature with a promise not to pulverize his bones. An odd sort of manner to ease Trin’s shaky fear of them.

Within seconds, sweet Phia had joined Bastion, trying to reassure Trin as well, only to add assurance to Bastion of keeping his bones together.

A wary sigh and a slight huff of amusement at their unorthodox attempts at comfort. Menzai approached slowly, stopping two steps further than his friends, not wishing to crowd the terrified goblin and risk another frightened jump scare.” Be at rest, Trin; no harm shall befall you or your bones long as you are with us, assuming you give us no reason to distrust you. And there will certainly be no more box transport for you.” A snarling glare directed at the pirates then shook his head as he shifted his hands to reach and procure an apple from the sack of fruits and held it out to Phia.” Here, sweet Phia; perhaps offering him something to eat may help. He must be quite hungry after being stuck and cramped in his horrid transport.” Better to let her handle things with Trin, with her more kind and delicate approach for now.

And with the mention of hungry, Menzai stepped his way over to Malik, offering him one of the meal box trays.” Here, Sir Malik. I thought it best that we all ate and kept our strength up; we will need everyone at their best against the island’s unknown danger.” A slight strain in his calm demeanor, still displeased by the tanned elf, but they needed to work together and hoped this was a start that they could get along, while he still had some things to say to the man.

Next, he would make towards Corin, offering him a tray as well.” Sir Corin, for you. And my thanks for your kindness towards sweet Phia. May we work together to deal with the island….and these pirates if the chance arises.” Whispering the last bit for the gem knight’s ears only.

Menzai gave a light bow of his head, then moved on, offering Lady Meiyu a boxed meal; whether she chose to accept it or not, it did not matter.” And for you, Lady Meiyu. Your presence here is appreciated even if you had little reason for doing so.” Said with a light bow of his head.

Just then, the sound of a screaming child pulled his attention towards the ship that nearly made him motion to jump into action, thinking a child was in danger. Only to halt quickly in his step upon seeing the male dark-elf nearby the little girl, who appeared freaked out about something dead on her feet. A testing sniff gave him the unpleasant scent of dead pests; relief settled him to see the girl was in no harm, though the fact she was here within a pirate’s den did not sit well.

Satisfied, though felt pity for the poor girl having to handle dirty things. Figures, this rusty ship had pest infestations.

Menzai rummaged for another apple and held it up for the dark elf to see before attempting to toss it over to him with a nod. Studying the two newcomers waiting on the ship with a curious eye. Had they been survivors from the ship as well? He pondered as he waited for the group to make their way off, and the sooner they got away from these wretched pirates, the better.

Though it gave him little comfort having to travel aboard such a paltry offering of mercy.


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Hidden 21 hrs ago Post by Lava Alckon
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Lava Alckon

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Corin Talmor



Title: The Gem Knight
Race: Human (Cyran)
Class: Paladin — Gem Knight Archetype
Interaction: Bastion @Oso
Location: Port Verge, The Mercy
Attire:
Think rough-n-tough artisan. Cotton shirt rolled up to the forearms, with a wool artisan coat to cover his torso when he does his craftwork. Brown leather pants with reinforced knee-support, and a practical belt full of pouches and clasps for his various tools..

Gold Balance: 33
Injuries: Cracked arm, embedded crystalline shard near sternum
Equipment:




At this point, the insults were just water off a duck’s back. A younger Corin might snap at the prospect of his friends being referred to as idiots. But they still asked for these idiots' help. So that makes them even sadder than their perception of the crew. Not that they’d be insightful enough to pick up on that irony.

Then came Trin. While the others fussed over his health, Corin’s eyes merely gazed at the faint blue mark poorly hidden beneath the rags. That pulsing light was curious to say the least. Was this the friend who “knew” about the artifact? Maybe that brand glows brighter in proximity to it. That would explain the Prince’s certainty over them being able to locate it.

The man’s head snapped to the disgusted cries of Val, who just dumped a bucket of questionable grossness onto her feet. The girl seemed young…far too young. What is it with this group and fostering children? At least this one came with an adoptive guardian. At least, that’s what Corin assumed the dark elf was.

Introductions were in order, but he had little mood to do so in front of the three Lame-kateers over here. So he turned his focus to the incredibly sad vessel that was so graciously donated to them. Something that looked like it was held together by hopes and dreams—The Mercy.

”I suppose this is our friend meant to show us the artifact. And that…vessel…will be our method of transport.” He said plainly.

”Is there any other important information you all have to show us? Or is this where we part ways and get out of each other’s hair for the foreseeable future?” Corin’s flat tone masked the smug nature of his question. “When are you guys going to leave us alone already?” was bouncing around in his mind.

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