Xen had a reputation. Most people knew his name from stories. A pyrat from the time of Cynthia and Elk, known for the most vile crimes and acts. But the same man, still alive today? Preposterous. Rational individuals figured the title must be passed down in memory of its original holder, but the superstitious passed along legends that he was indeed the same man, and had obtained eternal life via nefarious means. Nobody believed them, of course, but it was a common enough tale that anyone claiming Xen as a name would raise a few eyebrows. To Xen’s surprise, this time it did not.
“I would greatly appreciate it if you could assist me.” Ivory, was it? She looks fair enough to hail from royalty, or at the very least wealth. Especially with that tone and accent. I wonder if it’s her birth name. “Please.” Xen cracked an evil looking smile. She’s either trying to kill someone or she’s researching thistlization, and no one in their right mind is going to make mention of either. And either way, he was interested. He channeled flux with the naga blood in his system, creating a unique magical field that intimidated those within. “Ofcourse. Come with me.” He turned and walked out the door. His shopkeep didn’t know anything of blood thistle other than it being a poison, so he didn’t want to involve him. Besides, they genuinely didn’t have any there.
One in front, two behind. Mostly makeshift weapons, but one carried an impressive looking mace, probably stolen. Caeleo was used to observing his surroundings; he had done it for 200 years. Unfortunately, having a physical form was new to him. Nebula are initially just entities in the sky, each composed of a single crystal. Every century one Nebula chooses and falls to one of Xeron’s paintings, choosing where they fall and how their physical form will manifest as a result. One perk of this is that Nebula get to choose what brand of magic they will use. Since their bodily structure doesn’t have to match traditional biological structures, they can have incredibly unique flux signatures. Caeleo’s particular brand was light-powered beams.
Caeleo began channeling flux through his core. The bandits were faster than his core, and began battering on his metal frame with little effect. He tried deflecting them to the best of his ability, but Caeleo was still inexperienced. It was one thing watching combat and another actually participating. He sliced through one bandit’s throat with blades attached to his arms, but the others were already backing up to re-evaluate their approach. Caeleo’s attack finished charging, and he reached out his hand. He let forth a continuous beam of concentrated light that inflicted serious burns on both remaining combatants. It was enough to get them to retreat so he could turn his attention to Tarkus.
After a brief encounter with a silent Cleric, the three were headed back to the wagon together. Caeleo was still suspicious of the cleric’s motives, but he welcomed having a competent combatant travel with them. As they approached the wagon with the wood needed for repairs, they heard a loud crash from that direction.
Caeleo and Tarkus approached tactically, taking care not to make too much noise and leaving Tavren to cover their backs. The wagon looked exactly as they left it, with the addition of two unconscious Ashen propped against the side. Sapphira, Ivory, and Igneous were nowhere to be seen. “I wonder where they’ve gotten off to.” Tarkus wondered out loud. Caeleo was less concerned with the people: “What do you think that sound was?” From his previous vantage point in the sky he would have been able to tell immediately. Caeleo put the wood down by the broken wheel and looked inside the wagon. Everyone’s belongings were still there…
“Did you hear that?!” Sapphira’s voice startled the trio as she floated down from above. “I don’t see anything around for miles, but that crash sounded like it was RIGHT THERE.” She pointed enthusiastically to the east, where Ivory and Igneous were walking back from the nearby river. Igneous was staring confusedly at some taffy in its hand, not sure what the woman wanted it to do with it. She took an exaggerated bite out of hers, as if in demonstration.
“We thought it came from the wagon. Sounded like an explosion,” Caeleo explained, “Anyway, we brought the wood. Think you could work your magic and fix the wheel?”
Sapphira glided over to the other end of the wagon. As she rounded the corner she jumped back and let out a startled scream that sounded more like a squeak. “Oh, that’s Tavren,” Tarkus elaborated, “A Cleric. Been followin’ us. He'll do you no harm.” Tavren was busy searching the bandits for useful items. “Oh, well, nice to meet you Tavren!” The cleric stared at the fairy’s tiny outstretched hand for a moment, shook it, then went back to looting. That was enough for Sapphira, so she set to work.
Fairy artisans were renowned for using magic to enhance their craftsmanship. Sapphira had picked up the basics of many different magic based crafts, woodworking included. Over the next several minutes she magically weaved the wood pieces together to make a mostly functional wheel.
Tarkus and Igneous were discussing the bandit encounter while watching Sapphira work. Caeleo greeted Ivory as she returned, “What is that?” He nodded towards the taffy. “Lemon taffy! From Delteria.” Caeleo, in all his time observing, hadn’t paid much attention to human foods. They disinterested him, so he changed the topic. “Did you find anything out about that sound?”
“Oh, right. We didn’t see anything. You don’t suppose it had to do with the Crystal of Balance, do you?” Ivory concealed the fact that the thought was dominating her mind. “It would make sense. Perhaps those two fools saw the Archaeon fall and knew their time was running out.” She could see Caeleo’s concern, despite his metallic features. “Hopefully Asael is making better time than we are.”
“It’s just a wheel, right?” Caeleo stood on the side of the road with Tarkus, both of them confused as to how they forgot a spare wheel, “How hard can it be to replace?”
“I bet we could use the silent heap of junk we’ve been hauling along.” Igneous perked up, and silently looked their direction from inside the wagon. His featureless face seemed to glare at the Naga. “Oh have a heart, Tarkus,” Sapphira glided to Igneous’s side, “He’s alive, you know.”
“What about you, Sapphira? You have some woodworking experience, right? If we provided wood, would you be able to make us a new wheel?”
All eyes were on Sapphira now. Not used to the attention, her small form began to turn a tint of red. She mustered up as proud as she could, “I-I, ofcourse I can!”
“Excellent, we’ll just have to go get some…” Caeleo trailed off as he looked around the vast plain with not a tree in sight. Tarkus was already getting a few tools and weapons together, which involved strapping the metal chair to his back. “Hey no-face,” he addressed Igneous, “Watch after this lot. Me and the star are gonna get some wood.” Without another word, he set off to the west, knowing the forest wasn’t far. Caeleo followed, leaving the trio to fend for themselves.
The wagon began to fade into the hills behind it as Caeleo struggled to make conversation. He spotted the axe on Tarkus’ belt. “Why did you bring your weapon?”
“Bandits.” A few more minutes passed before Caeleo asked another question, trying to make a connection. “What about the others? What if they’re attacked?”
“That’s why I left the rock there. Bandits don’t normally stray that far from the forest, anyways.”
“Can he...it...? Can it fight?” His voice carried a hint of concern. He had picked these people to come with him because they were unique. He didn’t want to lose valuable tools at this point.
“Yeah. I sparred with it last night. It can hold his own. Must have some been programmed for fighting or something… There,” Tarkus pointed to a forest coming into focus, “That’s the place. We gotta be quick. The Lord here doesn’t like guests.”
A few moments later they were both working away at a couple small trees. They only needed enough wood for one, maybe two wheels. A spare couldn’t hurt. The brush rustled nearby, putting Caeleo and Tarkus on alert. Caeleo stepped forward, not one to back down in the face of danger, let alone that posed by humans. His voice echoed out louder and more commanding than before, “Who’s there?”
Silence. The wind blew, rustling more leaves, making the moment linger on longer than it should have. Just as the moment seemed to pass, five bandits came out from nowhere, three for Caeleo and two for Tarkus. Surrounded, they were forced to fight.
At the same time, a pair of bandits were approaching the broken down wagon...
“Suppose we jus’ pretend we’re soldiers, here to help ‘em out to get their guards down.”
“Ah, shaddup. They ain’t as dense as you, that’ll never work.”
“I’m tellin’ you it worked before on me old auntie’s best friend’s brother’s daughter’s husband.”
“And I’m tellin’ you he was a bloody idiot! Yore ‘ole family is bloody idiots!”
“Ay mate, fuck you. What do you suppose we do?”
“We’ll jus’ walk up and steal their shit. It’s not like they’re prepared enough to even have a spare wheel. What makes you think they’ll be prepared enough for us?”
“...that makes a whole lotta sense. You always were the brains, mate.”
“Thankya, thankya. Now shaddup before they hear you shoutin’.”
As foot traffic resumed normal levels, Barion Square became the bustling center for trade and conversation Delteria was known for. The North Gate, also known as Cynthia’s Gate, was designed and constructed by her order using stone and crystal, crafted such that the crystal reflected the rising sun’s rays in beautiful patterns across Barion Square. The more romantic residents of Delteria usually gathered to watch, but today they were joined by a mix of fighters, mages, and politicians preparing for the journey to Lothair and ithica.
Caeleo was standing on the outside of a ring of Delterians, mentally detached from the crowd that was discussing fighting techniques, politics, and fluxcraft. He was eager to set off and unhappy with the widespread lack of urgency. As he scanned the crowd, he spotted a few other like-minded individuals from the night before: Tarkus, Sapphira, Ivory, and Igneous. He quickly broke away and headed towards them. Perhaps this group will want to leave already.
“Caeleo!” Ivory was the first to acknowledge his presence, “What’s causing the delay?”
“Yeah,” an irritated looking Tarkus chimed in, "I could've been selling junk all morning instead of standing around here with the lot of ya."
Caeleo was pleasantly surprised by the Naga’s bluntness. “Time is of the essence,” he echoed the sentiment, “but Vulcure insisted on helping the others prepare.” There was deflection in his voice that betrayed his true emotions on the situation, a shift from his previously monotone and metallic voice. He was getting used to his physical form.
Igneous spoke up, “Why do we have to wait for Vulcure?” The group fell silent. For some reason, nobody had stopped to consider that they could just travel to Lothair on their own. It’s not like it was a difficult road to travel by any means; the riverside path was taken daily by plenty of traders. The group grabbed their belongings nearly in sync and loaded up the 1-horse wagon they had laid claim to earlier that morning. Within a few minutes time they were headed across Lake Delteria's Fae Bridge.
Most of Delteria's architecture was of human creation, but the bridge was built by Fae craftsman as a gesture of their goodwill. Traces of Delteria's block-ish style could be seen intertwined with the Fae's liberal use of carefully crafted loops, curves, and crystals that both enhance the visual appeal and channel flux to ensure structural integrity. Fae made excellent builders; their flight coupled with their small hands allowed them to quickly and accurately construct any structure with ease. The path north was littered with similar, but smaller bridges made of both wood and stone crossing the Delthair River, almost as if the Fae made them for fun. Sapphira was sure to tell her new friends all about the history of the bridge as they crossed it.
Some instructions for the next round of posts: characters need to meet up with eachother in the morning at the North Gate. Feel free to include extra dialogue that I didn't include or fill in gaps in the story where I left them. Some other important things might be what they packed, what they talk about before and after departing, etc.
Also, I posted a character sheet for Vulcure and wanted to emphasize that he's not my character and can be controlled entirely by anyone. Feel free to use his character sheet as reference for interactions with him.
Appearance: Bulky, made of the same stone as Delteria, but not as tall as Caeleo.
Age: 100
Occupation: Politician, Engineer
Personality: Caring, polite, formal. Not afraid to be direct and break social convention for the good of another sentient being.
Brief History: Vulcure fell to Delteria in the year 100, after the fall of Cynthia. It was a time the races of Y'vera needed someone who could help them rebuild their broken society, and Vulcure fulfilled that role by providing technical knowledge on crystals, golems, flux, and mechanics. He necessarily became embedded into Y'verian politics, making Delteria his home and working closely with the members of Veracity.
Aspiration: World peace, no more suffering, widespread acceptance of golems.
Flaw: Cares too much for golems, nature of his body limits his range of motion unless great effort is taken to overcome limitations
Inventory: Always has a staff made of wood, adorned with a crystal on top.
To Xen’s surprise, he saw a young woman holding a conversation with Agren about Blood Thistle, of all things. A young woman all alone in this city was rare, but one seeking that poison was exceptional. She was just turning to leave as he silently crossed the room in spite of his previously loud equipment. He made it a point to loudly step in front of her, drawing her attention to his intimidating scowl. “Excuse me, sir,” she said in a predictably polite tone, “you’re blocking my path.” He met her eyes with his shockingly red ones.
“Blood Thistle? I can help with that.”
An eerie silence fell on the room for a moment too long. Xen broke it, adapting a polite tone to match Ivory’s.
“Forgive me. I forgot my manners. I’m Xen, the owner of this establishment. And who do I have the pleasure of making the acquaintance?” He reached out his hand, which was now returning to a natural color as the Naga blood circulated through his system.
Wrrrrr, new directive received. ithica. Crystal of Balance. Protect.
Vulcure finished repairing the damaged, dark, reflective golem. He found him outside, wondering seemingly lost in the darkness. Vulcure was among those who believed golems were just as alive as the other races of Y’vera. Not everyone shared the sentiment, however.
Caeleo continued discussing things with the influential figures from Veracity and some curious Delterians. Among them were Alex Stravier and Bob-Drakken, a purebred Naga with beast-like features. Bob-Drakken wasn’t so sure about the danger the political climate posed.
“So you’re saying Storxx and Rolark would be willing to put the crystal at risk? And for what?”
“They’re old, and dying. There’s a technique Cynthia left behind for immortality, but it involves controlling a majority of the flux on Y’vera. We call it a flux takeover.”
It was about this time that one of Vulcure’s guard arrived, leading the group of individuals Caeleo had asked for. He turned his head to look at them before returning to his conversation with the Drakken family member.
“As you know, the Crystal was created by Elk to stabilize the flux of Y’vera in order to sustain mortal life. It channels a huge amount of flux through it before distributing it evenly across the world.”
“So,” Stravier chimed in, “they want to use the Crystal to achieve a flux takeover and alter the rules for themselves. Clever.”
“Exactly. There’s no telling what type of effect a flux takeover will have on a plane with mortals. It’s never happened before. It’s possible it could wipe out mortal life, or worse...”
A stony silence fell over the group. Golems could be heard toiling away, repairing the damage to the church. Bob and Alex gave each other a knowing look before Caeleo started again:
“It was my job to observe the Crystal. Watch over it for dangers. I couldn’t do it alone, so four more were assigned to watch over the rest of Y’vera for threats. I dragged them down from The Sky when I fell. Laeon to Silent-Run, Ipotael to Rissdar, Asael to Tarver, and Aefrit to Dunley. We all agreed to gather a force and convince Elk to help us protect the crystal.”
Our protagonists recognized the names of stars as they realized not one, but five Nebula fell that night. “You all are that force,” Vulcure chimed in, addressing the crowd, “you reacted confidently to Caeleo’s arrival. We need people that aren’t just warriors, but also ready to choose to protect Y’vera over the opportunity for power.”
“Drakken,” he continued, “I need you to find Elk and inform her. I know Veracity keeps tabs on her.” Bob-Drakken nodded. “As for the rest of you, we’ll be leaving from Lothair in a week’s time. Rolark and Storxx will likely hear of the Nebula arrival soon, and we can only keep our intentions secret for so long.” (A week is ten days on Y’vera. Likewise, a year has 50 weeks)
With that, Bob-Drakken and Alex Stravier took their leave. Vulcure approached Tarkus: “This is Igneous,” he presented the so-far-silent golem made of jet black rock, “I want it to accompany you. I can’t force you to help us, but something tells me you aren’t completely unfamiliar with the landscape of ithica. If you don’t want to help, feel free to keep it around. It’s a stray.”
Caeleo was talking with Sapphira and Ivory: “Thankyou for the warm welcome.” He at least knew how to keep to formalities, despite his indifference to mortals. “We’ll be leaving Delteria tomorrow morning if you want to accompany us. And you, Fae. You probably need to head back to Tarver? If you could accompany us, I know Fae have many useful variations of magic and enchantments.”
Brief history: Celderon was the name of a pyrat in the early days of Y'vera's history. In that time, pyrats were not only looters embodying freedom and recklessness, but also explorers and pioneers of the then unexplored lands. As a pyrat, Celderon took on the name Xen and captained the Cerberus, a speedy vessel armed to the teeth with cannons and a crew to match. Xen aggressively raided city after city, eventually moving beyond the shoreline to pull off heists further inland. He never cared much for politics at the time, but he strived to make his name known, for a name can never die. He would make his mark on Y'vera that way, with the intent of passing on the title of Dred Pyrat to his next in command someday.
Current day, the Dred Pyrat Xen is a legend, but also a living breathing person behind the most atrocious crimes of Y'vera's history. It's believed by most that the title has been passed from individual to individual, used for the fear, power, and fame the name carries. After all, no one lives in good health that long, not even those of the first few generations, and especially not a Pyrat. Xen's name isn't just whispered in legends, though. His crimes and actions are known across the world.
Aspiration: Legacy. Pursue the unknown.
Flaw: Habitually commits crime.
Inventory: Flask of blood, small explosives, variety of swords and knives, some alchemical supplies
