The Irish Tree

ＦＩＮＡＬ ＦＡＮＴＡＳＹ Ｘ｜Ｖ： Ｔｈｅ Ｂｌｅｓｓｅｄ Ｔｗｅｌｖｅ

"...He purchased what now?
With gil?
J'torha's...time?
Is he THAT kind of wanderer!?
...Halone preserve me."

Theodore's thoughts raced at a mile a minute as his eyes, ears, and head darted their attention to and fro betwixt J'torha and his quarry, along with his quarry's apparent quarry, who's own quarry was jeopardized by...at this point, quarry metaphors weren't working in his mind, so instead Theodore began thinking instead of something more like a strip mine. Plenty of angles and turns, rather than a neat little box. ...Wait, none of this had anything to do with mining. One could see at a glance that the gears in Theodore's head were rotating a mile a minute, sawdust burning rapidly as he just tried to wrap his head around what the hell just happened in that scene straight out of a drama play.

Closing his eyes, Theodore would just...feel the tiniest bit of shame by being associated with that whole scene. He couldn't even bring himself to say anything as his fellow adventurer went off to collect payment for...Gods knows what. All that he knew was that none of that was his business, and as such he would do his best to not dwell on it. After all, if a debt needed to be paid, it best be paid in full. He'd heard tales of how shrewd many Thanalan merchants were, with many willing to scam people like how the Blessed Twelve had been. Resolving to resume his search, half for the lead he had gained prior, and half to forget about that scene, he would push back and out from the crowd, heading off to investigate more about this Highlander that had sold the Free Company's possessions.

As for the where, he would first question the Brass Blades stationed nearby. After all, it was their job to keep the peace. More or less. Part of him considered wandering back over to the Scorpion Crossing in order to question some of the merchants in the area, but felt that a man so known now wouldn't just be gallivanting about with other, more legitimate merchants at a trade outpost.

Goblin Slayer: Newblood (CANCELLED)

Steppe Archer was doing just fiiiiine. Or rather, she would be, if not for this boar having the energy of ten wild horses, and all the stubbornness due of 20. This was a losing battle right from the start, and for all her bravado in taking on the large male in a rodeo contest, the girl's muscles couldn't back it up to the finish. The continuous bucking, slamming, and sharp turns meant that the boar nearly had her off...but, perhaps that was in her best interest, now. Especially given the tree that was quickly growing close. The boar clearly intended to grind her off, the tree serving as a perfect end to their impromptu ride. It being a spruce tree meant that trying to jump off to a branch wasn't going to work, the branches would snap under the weight of her jump, so her best bet was to kick off the boar, tumble backwards, and then try and climb. But how fast could she manage in the panic?

Just as she decided on her course of action, she would hear the cry of her druidic companion to get away from the parents, the archer more than happy to oblige. It was less of a fall to get off, and more of a very graceful slam into the dirt by the archer, managing to execute a quick roll to get back on her feet before she started blitzing away from the boar as fast as she could. A spruce tree wouldn't do, so the archer would have to gamble her speed could get her to a more suitable safe spot. Any safe place would do right now, and Steppe Archer could only hope that the parents would choose to depart with their child rather than fight. Looking over her shoulder at the male boar, Steppe Archer couldn't help but give the tiniest, most indignant pout at her loss. "...I really wanted to ride a boar for longer..." she would complain in her head, heart still pumping with the thrill of that ride. It was...a different beast from horse racing, to be sure. Less speed overall, but faster acceleration.

She had to admit, she had a small hope that they could have caught the boars and tamed them. Just because that sounded fun.

Goblin Slayer: Newblood (CANCELLED)

Hi, this is Steppe Archer, and welcome to Jackass!

Goblin Slayer: Newblood (CANCELLED)

This was...getting to be very difficult. One was commanding her to attack, while the other called for a distraction, one sought to end this in a swift strike to vitals and limbs, while one seeked to have the boars go off on their own at peace and very much alive. And not to mention...this guard was practically useless. He claimed that they could keep the corpses of the boars, which, while the pelts would no doubt be worth a pretty penny, she had the distinct feeling that her nature wizard friend would highly object due to her not asking for the parents to just be shot right away. That aside, slaying boars this size was no easy task. Had Steppe Archer known that she'd need to hunt such aggressive game, she'd have made a rudimentary poison to try and fell beasts. It was amazing how just a little bit of dung around an arrowhead made them as deadly as any alchemist's basic poison. Made the meat worthless though.

Steppe Archer would watch in awe as the Lizardman took his stance, an almost primal understanding of the difference in power between a human and a lizardman becoming clear in her mind. It was no wonder why she'd heard many humans declare their fear of Lizardman warriors, with their scaly hides acting as natural armor, and their tails looking more deadly than any rookie soldier's mace. But, she had a feeling even his power couldn't hold out against a boar forever. This mix-matched plan of survival and saving was going to cost someone their life if it wasn't executed well, but just about any course of action that Steppe Archer could take split between aiding either the Lizardman or the Magi. Wild animals weren't wholly stupid, so the Lizardman's brave beastial style of challenging it would buy him time enough to see where it would strick from, but that didn't mean that victory was his. One good pierce from the tusk and he'd need a cleric, at best, his rites read at worst. But then, an idea struck her.

Steppe Archer would do the only thing she thought was right in this situation...And that was to make a mad dash past the male boar once the Lizardman's roar had sufficiently served to distract it, then slam herself upon its back, taking hold of its tusks in order to maintain a good grip upon it. Steppe Archer's thighs clamped down upon the beast's hips. Her intention was clear: A contest of wills between a wild beast and a person on its back only had one conclusion.

One would have to be broken. Physically, or Spiritually.

"W-Woah!" Steppe Archer would yell out, the awkward position almost making her easy to throw off. Almost. She'd practically spent her life on the back of a horse, accustomed to the slight jerks and movements one could feel from a beast supporting them. Every movement of the boar's body was predictable as Steppe Archer felt the contraction and extension of muscles, the girl's own lower body strength letting her hold on. But, likely not forever. She'd either have to count on the boar tiring itself out with fearsome bucks and charges, or find some way to escape goring after letting go. The Lizardman would no doubt find this foolish, but would now find that the boar had absolutely no means to attack him with, lest it just try and charge with brunt force. Steppe Archer used her arms to jerk the head side-to-side, preventing it from having a straight angle. Just before the boar would run at full speed to try and shake her off, the archer would yell out: "GO HELP HER! I CAN HANDLE THIS!"

Whether that was truth or fiction, one couldn't say, but the girl of the Steppes wouldn't allow herself to lose to a hog. Nor would she lose to anything with four legs and a back broad enough to straddle.

Menagerie Parade, A Fantasy World of Long Titles and Dumb Plots and Exclamatory Questions!? [Private]

Day 3: Dig through the Liches and burn through the Witches!

The pace of the journey to the Lichyard was one that even a child could keep up with. Well, a super-powered child, admittedly. It had taken half a day's hike, a night's rest, and a morning's journey for them to reach the graveyard in question, the very air itself thick with a pungent miasma that made the air feel humid and foul, as if the very ground around them was cursed. Probably because it was. Nimoa's tiny wings would flap in excitement, eyes shining as she looked at it. "I've never seen a real live lich before...do you think they're smelly? Or maybe they smell like embalming fluid? Or maybe they eat spices to make their bones smell nice?"

Charlotte thought about that for a moment, before noticing C-3's rapid departure. "H-Hey! C-3!? Wait up!" the demon princess would call out, dashing after her bestie to try and see where the hell she was actually GOING. She was able to keep pace with C-3 up until she found her foot snagged on a gnarled root, causing her to fall and skid against the ground for a solid thirty or so feet. Getting up, she would wince and rub her chin. She was durable, but still...ow. C-3's newly gained headstart would mean that Charlotte would only find her after she'd received her gift. Putting her hands on her hips, Charlotte was getting ready to scold C-3 for robbing someone's offerings, but saw just how happy she was munching on that metal. She'd only ever seen her core glow that bright after she'd managed to steal a pure ruby while they were on the road for her to eat.

Charlotte chuckled behind C-3, beaming. "What'd you run off for? We've got to clear that vampire brat's little side-quest to get the hero moving to the REAL quest. Did you smell something nice?"

Unbeknownst to C-3 or Charlotte, a slight rattle of bones would vanish from the scene, out of earshot...

---

Nimoa would watch as Charlotte and C-3 ran off, looking a bit perturbed. "...Will they be okay on their own?" she questioned as she watched them go, before a hacking cough echoed out from a nearby building on the Lichyard. The "houses" that were here resembled grand mausoleums, with grand brass braziers that had long since stained green from rain carrying violet flames that didn't sway in the wind. Powerful magic echoed from this place...and powerful coughs that continued to echo from the nearest Housoleum. Nimoa would gulp, timidly stepping forward to knock upon the door.

What would answer would be a mockery upon life itself, the very air around the being darkening as Nimoa's eyes focused upon it, the fine fabrics enshrouding the skeletal figure were adorned with grand magical items, gems containing powers unbeknownst to mortal minds and...

"KITTY!" Nimoa squealed, taking note of literally none of that, instead focused on the lich's apparent familiar in the form of a cat made out of darkness itself. Shaking her head and slapping her own cheeks, Nimoa would look up at the skeleton man that was staring at her, eyeless skull unflinching as it rasped, the very air shuddering as it escaped the most horrifying type of spellcaster known to all the realm.

"Hi, My name is Nimoa, and I was wondering if-"

"We don't buy girl scout cookies."

"I-I'm not a girl scout, I'm just trying to-

"No timeshares either!

"What? No, I'm not trying to sell you anythi-"

"GET OFF MY LAWN!" the lich would yell, not at Nimoa, but at a racoon that was making off with what looked to be a half-animated dead fish that flopped and gasped as it was dragged off. Running out of his home with a pair of pink fuzzy slippers on, the lich would pull out his staff and begin casting an unknown beam type of spell, that seemingly rotted whatever it touched, judging from how the already sickly looking patches of grass just outright blackened, withering to ash. GO ON! GET, YOU VARMINT!" The lich would screech as the raccoon got away, leaving the lich with naught to do but sigh and return to his doorway.

"Where was I...oh yeah, we don't buy girl scout cookies. No stomach to put them in." the lich said, before coughing heavily.

"I'M JUST LOOKING FOR AN ALCHEMIST!" Nimoa would eventually shout, fed up with being half-listened to.

"Oh. Why didn't you just say so!? Grimsby down the block, third building after you turn left." The lich would say, helpfully pointing out the direction of said alchemist, before turning his back and heading back inside. The lawn now looked like an arcane war had been waged upon it, with Tristan and Valkira barely missed by any shots.

...Senile liches were terrifying. Perhaps moreso than fully sane ones.

Goblin Slayer: Newblood (CANCELLED)

Rolling up the sleeves of her tabard, Steppe Archer would get right into the work of hauling corpses while the details were discussed. It wasn't easy work, but it was simple enough. The girl was exceedingly careful when dragging out animals, as she had hoped to perhaps sneak a corpse or two off to skin, but relatively few of the pelts were intact. So stained with blood, that even trying to tan them would probably ruin them. And at the mention of the sewer running off into the ditch, Steppe Archer would cringe just a bit, remembering the harrowing adventure where she'd almost lost a friend. Plus, that meant cockroaches might come out to snack...All the more reason to hurry it up then. They'd be there until sunset, to be certain, but the passage of time meant little compared to Steppe Archer's disdain for insects.

The nomadic girl couldn't help but look on in awe at the raw power of the Lizardman as he worked. Given her own previous predisposition to strip in public, the Lizardman removing his shirt just made sense to her. Why ruin perfectly good fabric? Steppe Archer still at least had enough to cover her womanly modesty, but it was really just her chest and calves that were covered. Humming, Steppe Archer would spot a goblin corpse, mouth impaled upon one of the palisade spikes. Judging from the arrow in his back, some patrolman had shot him while he was skulking about in the dark. Pulling the arrow free, Steppe Archer would wipe the blood off on the Goblin's meager loincloth, putting it in her quiver before ripping him off carrying him over her shoulder. She would do this to several other corpses within her weight range, strong enough in her own right to drag a deer, but not carry it.

Just as she reached the pyre and dumped her most recent charge into it, Steppe Archer's ears perked up at the sound of a call for help. Had something been alive? Running towards the Druid Girl's voice, Steppe Archer would frantically pat her bloodied hands down across her clothing, drawing her bow and an arrow to be ready to fire. Seeing the boars advancing, Steppe Archer looked to them, then the druid girl. This was bad...she'd heard that the boars of this region were dangerous, reckless beasts. A porcelain rank had no business trying to tangle with one, but here her largely unarmed friend was being stared down by TWO. And behind her...was a baby. Now, Steppe Archer was starting to get an inkling as to what was going on. Acting fast, Steppe Archer would yell out: "Move away from the piglet!" before firing an arrow that intentionally missed right before one of the boars.

Steppe Archer knew it was foolish, but if she could lead the boars away, she could climb a tree and wait out their ire. She was confident that she could run fast enough to reach a tree, but slowly backed off towards one, just in case. "Um...I-If they run after you, try and use some magic! I think you know magic! I really hope you were being serious about being a Nature Mage!" she continued to yell, no doubt drawing yet more attention to herself. One arrow might fell a boar, but she was guaranteed to be gored before she could get a second one to fly. As such, her best option was to just try and avoid a fight at all costs.

ＦＩＮＡＬ ＦＡＮＴＡＳＹ Ｘ｜Ｖ： Ｔｈｅ Ｂｌｅｓｓｅｄ Ｔｗｅｌｖｅ

Theodore was actually amazed that not only was the information incredibly helpful, but it was also simply given for free. A warm smile spread across Theodore's lips before he would nod, understanding the gravity of the situation if a widespread net of thievery had been cast, ensnaring the destitute merchants and civilians alike, then it was growing ever more apparent that this needed some justice to set this right! Theodore would bow his head, fist rapping twice against his breastplate. "I thank you for this information. I'll have to question Kikipu about this man, as its the best shot I have at apprehending him. Good day, sir," Theodore would say, before starting to head towards Kikipu's demesne.

...That is, until he heard the familiar voice of one of the Sunseeker Miqo'te shouting out an insult to someone. Had something happened. His head turned quickly to take in the sight of J'torha halfway up a pole, Theodore's eyes looking to where J'torha's gaze was fixed, upon the auctioneer that was presiding over the sale of Lyveva's goods. He couldn't see exactly what the auctioneer looked like, so far all that Theodore knew the man with two scars had come to collect on what he had sold. "Pardon, excuse me, sorry, just a moment," Theodore's numerous apologies came as he weaves his way through the crowd, trying not to step upon any toes, or get any rogue Roegadyn elbows to his nose.

Once he was near the front of the crowd, Theodore would have a chance to see this "rat" at face value, and be prepared to step in to apprehend him if it was indeed their target. Merchants of Mercy or not, he assumed that there was indeed some reason for J'torha to cry out so loudly. Perhaps it was a signal for the group to convene?

Goblin Slayer: Newblood (CANCELLED)

Steppe Archer just kind of stood there, an awkward silence hanging in the air around them. Steppe Archer hadn't even understood that it was a joke, she just sort of felt as if some kind of follow up was needed after a statement such as that, some further elaboration on magical sciences that would soar right over the girl's head. Magic was for smart people, after all. Steppe Archer's expression wouldn't change as she saw the girl's face turn red, a simple tilt of her head signalling her confusion. "Scared of handling bodies?" she questioned, figuring that might be a reason for her sudden hesitation. Once that was likely dismissed, Steppe Archer would smile brighter, offering her newfound friend a hand to shake.

When the Lizardfolk fighter came over, Steppe Archer would give a thumbs up, saying: "Mhm! She said yes, so let's get going! I hope we'll have time after cleanup for another job."

---

The nomad girl would follow with her companions along to meet the guard, showing him the job listing and offering a sincere smile. "Nice to meet you. We're the porcelains that signed up for ditch cleaning. Is this where we get told what to do?" Her free hand remained behind her back, clenched ever so slightly as she kept herself from feeling nervous. Was...was he gonna smell the sewer smell on her too? Or was it just the Lizardfolk's powerful sense of smell that let him smell the stank?

Goblin Slayer: Newblood (CANCELLED)

Steppe Archer was fascinated by the idea of someone living in a swamp. Usually, she steered clear of densely muddy areas. Bad for horses to cross, and all. Besides, quickmud was a very real threat in a swamp, so chasing quarries into them wasn't worth it for the nomadic tribes of the Steppe. The girl would smile at the lizardman's words of confirmation of the adding of a third member and turn on her heel saying:"Okay!", before she walked over to the girl with really, really nice hair. Like, seriously, she'd never seen a girl with such straight hair before. Though, that might also just be because most women on the Steppe viewed cloth as more fashionable than hair. Strolling right up, the archer would put her hands behind her back and net her fingers, white poofy hair still making her look like a half-lion, half-woman.

"Hey, wanna join me and my big friend over there on ditch duty? Its nothing glamorous, but its easy enough. No need to kill or be killed when cleaning up the dead, and all," Steppe Archer would say leaning across the table and staring right at the girl's eyes with a big grin on her face. "We were also going to do the Patrol later, but if you don't feel up for that or the ditch duty, that's fine. Are you a mage? I've seen a lot of mages carry big sticks like that. "

Steppe Archer's eyes would take in details of the girl's appearance, namely that she didn't seem really muscular for an adventurer, and she doubted that stick at her side was much of the smacking type. Though, she knew full well how good a substitute weapon a stick made. After all, before they trained with swords, her and her friends trained with sticks.

Goblin Slayer: Newblood (CANCELLED)

Steppe Archer smiled, she hadn't even had to ask to tag along. Nodding her head at his statement of trying to solo the rats, she chuckled nervously. "W-Well, I had a party but...it didn't quite go so well. There were roaches, and one of my companions got a disease...b-but she's fine now! I don't know where the other went, but he made it out fine. We just realized that we were in over our heads, is all. But cleaning up corpses is something I'm used to, so I won't let you down!"she would say, raising her arms to show her enthusiasm.

Then the realization struck her. She STILL stunk!? Bashfully gaining a tinge of red to her cheeks, she scratched the back of her head. "T-The sewer smell is still there? I washed up super thoroughly though..." she complained, seeming disheartened. At least for all of four seconds. Then, she simply snapped her back straight and pumped her fist. "Well, no matter. We're about to reek of death anyways. Have you ever smelt a half-bloated wolf corpse rotting in the sun? I have. Oh, also, if you wanna block out scents..." Steppe Archer said, before reaching in her pocket to pull out two of the remaining little herb covered twigs. "These'll make sure you don't smell all the rot and yuck." she added, offering them to her gargantuan red companion.

Before they turned to leave, Steppe Archer would look back at the sounds of laughter. A lone girl sipping a drink who, with her archery-trained eyes, Steppe Archer could see was a porcelain rank just like they were. Pointing at the girl, Steppe Archer would whisper to her lizardfolk companion with a proposition: "Hey, do you think we should ask her to join? We'd have to split the reward three ways, but...it'd take us all day, and night to clean the ditches all around town ourselves. Plus, we could join the patrol after."