Yankee

『BLANK PAGE』 Manga Magazine Slice of Life

Why do so many cool interest checks go up when I have no time to join them! Good luck with the project!

World of Light

Word Count: 344 (+1)
Level: 1 - Total EXP: 7/10
Location: Sandswept Sky

It was hard to make out any details of the person in white. If it was even a person that is. Though even from this distance, Primrose thought that it was. They were garbed in a cloak or coat, unless someone thought it would be funny to dress a scarecrow up and stick it in the shifting sands. That seemed unlikely. Primrose kept an eye on the mysterious person, and soon enough Midna appeared beside the dancer again.

Her impression of Midna hadn't changed much in the short amount of time Primrose had known her. She did learn that she was apparently a princess, which was surprising. It also turned out that Primrose's earlier thought that the imp might have been shy was way off base. In fact Midna seemed a bit forceful. That suited Primrose just fine, though the dancer was still a little put out by the whole "hitching a ride in her shadow thing." If it wasn't already apparent, Primrose Azelhart had some deep seated trust issues.

Whether Primrose thought or not that eventually she and Midna would get along swimmingly, she'd already thought not to hold this particular grudge too long. Besides, maybe by spending time with the imp and her shadow magic, a little of Primrose's own dark magic would manifest again. It hadn't worked with Ashley, but then they'd been spending their days idle around the Alcamoth. Not exploring a region with the intent to free it's inhabitants.

With all these thoughts in mind Primrose nodded her head in the direction of the white cloaked person, a few hundred feet away from the car, without taking her eyes from the stranger. "There. Down the dune. A person, I think. Though it's impossible to tell if they are friend or foe."

The car hardly made a stealthy approach, so it was most likely safe to assume that this person had spotted them already. Although she wasn't particularly keen to approach, the dancer supposed that they would find out whether they were looking at an enemy or not soon enough.

World of Light

Word Count: 839 (+2 exp)
Level: 6 - Total EXP: 13/60
Location: Edge of the Blue

Another jaunt through the painting and across Lumbridge saw Cadet and the rest of the Blue Team in Inkwell Isle again. The hunter restrained himself from making a detour to the forge, channeling his inner Ace Lancer to continue on with the party (at which point he joined in with Sakura's Blue Team cheer). Those sisters worked fast, but it hadn't been that long. Besides, the Edge of the Blue was now just a hole in the floor away. If anyone needed anything, they could just take the lift back into town.

Seeing the little town and the big ocean properly rather than through the grimy doors of the casino, Ace Cadet was impressed. It wasn't often that he got to see the ocean. The Ace Hunters being based in Dundorma, at the center of the continent, most of their missions took them inland. Mountains, valleys, swamps. Deserts as well, and though the Great Desert might as well have been a sand ocean - completely with sailing ships and leviathans moving beneath - it wasn't quite the same. Rarely they Ace Hunters would visit larger coastal cities like Port Tanzia, but for the most part they stayed in the area around the Hunting Guild's Headquarters. The Cadet didn't wonder if he'd be more suited to joining Team Yellow instead, because just breathing in the salty air only the sea could provide was worth it. Oceans were so cool. Plus it was a beautiful day in the Edge of the Blue. The sky was clear, the sun was shining, there was an evil looking moon hanging in the sky...

"Is that always there?" The Cadet asked, blinking down at Cuphead.

Like most of the others, Ace Cadet chose to walk down to the coast as part of the group. As far as he could tell, the town was a charming enough place. It definitely seemed to fit Cuphead perfectly - or rather, it seemed Cuphead fit into it perfectly. He wanted to explore it a little, plus get a look at that weird misty forest a little further off, but for now the Cadet was content to walk along with everyone else. Once they were close to the water, the young man let out a low, drawn out whistle.

"Nice, it's all water for miles around. Guess that's in the name, heh, but still cool."

He stared out at the ocean for a little while, until a stranger in familiar clothing approached and struck up a conversation with the princess. Ace Cadet looked over his shoulder at the black clad stranger and frowned. That organization's whole deal was confusing. Some were helpful, some were bad guys masquerading as guild masters. The Cadet was much more used to straight forward threats, ruses were frustrating. He crossed his arms and turned back to the sea, thinking to himself as the conversation went on behind him.

The Maw, huh? Sounds spooky. That lady is pretty much asking us to trick a bunch of people onto boarding a dangerous ship. Junior's got the right idea.

The Cadet found himself nodding along with Sakura as they offered alternate suggestions, all of which were shot down. Was it not enough to take a sturdy ship full of heroes and take their chances crossing the sea? Did they really need this "Maw?" Was this mysterious woman just trying to push them into some kind of deadly trap while acting like she was doing them a favor and giving them advice? Man, at least monster hunting doesn't make me think in circles.

It was about the time that a deflating Sakura starting moving away from the group and Geralt started chastising her that the Cadet offered what little was on his mind to the group.

"Hey, lay off her," he started with, pointing his words towards the Witcher. Sakura was just trying to help after all. The redhead looked at the cloaked woman then and continued. "So what makes 'The Maw' so special? If it's just sea monsters that make the waters dangerous, I'm pretty sure we can deal with them," he said, pointing a finger between those that specialized in that kind of thing: Geralt and himself. That, or he was sure if they could come up with the materials, they could commission a dragonator from Lumbridge and lug it back here to attach to any other ship's hull. "Or what if we got ten really strong people instead? People we think can handle it inside. Can whoever crews 'The Maw' really tell the difference? And after all that if we still have to find ten guests like the ones you described, couldn't we just, I dunno, save them after we get on the ship?"

The Cadet folded his arms again, tilting his head from side to side. Perhaps the gesture helped him to think. He looked around at all of Team Blue gathered there. "I mean, even if we look into everything else and this is the only way, we still have some options working with this plan, right?"

---

(Ft. Midna)

Word Count: 1442 (+3)
Level: 1 - Total EXP: 6/10
Location: Sandswept Sky

Once teams started breaking away from the large group and leaving the Alcamoth for their individual missions, it was all to easy to see a few of "Team Yellow" were not part of the princess' chosen heroes. That included Primrose herself, of course. Before they got too far, the dancer introduced herself to put the rest of them at ease of being around a stranger.

"My name is Primrose," she said,

”And I would be Midna”, added a floating imp that materialized out of her shadow before attempting to lean nonchalauntly on her shoulder.

Primrose jerked away from the sudden voice and touch, and in a flash her dagger was in her hand. She hadn't expected any tag alongs besides herself, let alone whatever kind of miniature demon "Midna" was.

With one hand holding a blade defensively in front of her, and the other pressed to her chest to calm her panicked heart, Primrose glared at the imp.

"Where did you...?"

”Aw, what’s the matter, scared of your own shadow?” the demon replied mockingly, having lethargic floated away from her when she’d jerked away.

”Now put that thing away,” the imp said, waving a hand at the knife, ”I’m here to help. Completely uninvited of course, just like yourself.”

Primrose couldn't exactly argue with that. Slowly she tucked both of her arms back into her cloak, although she kept a tight hold on her dagger. One could never be too careful after all. Plus, Midna didn't exactly look helpful. Although neither did the dark scaled draconic man who was already part of the princess' royal entourage.

"I don't appreciate being used as a free ride," she told the imp.

Midna shrugged her arms widely in indifference to this opinion ”Not like I weigh anything, you didn’t even notice me after all. Don’t you want someone watching your back?”

”...” The dancer would be lying if she claimed that having someone she could count on wasn't a comfort, after living so long without that privilege. After a moment of continued glaring Primrose relaxed, just a little. She moved to one side of the rocky trail and motioned for Midna to float ahead of her.

The imp cocked her head at her silence, and then shrugged her shoulders and drifted ahead of her. ”Fine fine. I’ll get my own ride” she said, before snapping her fingers. The ground beneath her a circle of teal with angular veins flaring out of it formed, then a portal swirled within the ring, briefly blakening the ground beneath the teal rune. Out of this portal a wolf with unnaturally dark fur, a golden aura who was wearing a stone disk as a mask hopped before the portal vanished as quickly as it appeared. The imp dropped down onto the wolf’s back, riding it like it was a horse. The entire operation had taken only a few heartbeats, and now Midna had a new ride.

She pett the sides of the wolfos’ back and told it ”Hup-up, let’s go,” causing the creature to begin padding forwards ahead of Primrose, obediently carrying the imp up the trail with zero complainet.

She could do that this whole time? Primrose thought with a hint of annoyance. Although it was in the dancer’s nature to hold a grudge, she decided to try her best to let this one go. Under that strange appearance, maybe she’s just shy. That thought humored Primrose.

As they moved up the hill, Primrose wrapped the cloak a little tighter around herself. The closer they got to the passage into the desert, the hotter the air was getting - and though the fabric wouldn't protect from heat, it would shield her skin. Just like the others, Primrose shimmied through the opening in the rocks and came through on the other to an endless sandy sea.

When Primrose first left the Sunlands, what felt like years ago now, at the time she thought she'd never want to go back. Was sick at the thought of ever returning. Now, under the burning sun of the "Sandswept Sky," she only felt vague nostalgia. This landscape of sand wasn't the same was the Sunlands, it lacked the large red rocks natives came to rely on as landmarks, but in the end a desert was a desert. It was familiar if nothing else. Well, save for the huge flying serpentine creature, it was familiar.

Primrose was prepared to hoof it all the way to that distant, shimmering mountain when that bobble headed cat transformed. Normally that might have shocked the young woman, but there were a lot of crazy things in the Alcamoth. You got used to "weird" pretty quickly. As the rabbit-looking guy spoke with the cat vehicle, Primrose inspected it's tires. It was tough to drag a cart through the desert, but... she had to admit she was unfamiliar with this kind of wheel. It seemed wide enough. She followed Tora quietly onto the bus, sitting as far away from the rest of them as possible in the cramped space. A bit awkwardly she patted the interior walls of the bus in thanks.

The dancer leaned her head against the warm glass. It looked like this desert wasn't quite as featureless as she thought. The vehicle passed by stones of some kind, carved and decorated. Memorials? Primrose thought, turning slightly to get a better view as they drove by. Senseless. The sand will cover them all in time.

Coolness spread in her lap, and Primrose looked down to see a strange little bug getting cozy. Gingerly, Primrose lifted the antlion off of her and set it on the seat beside her instead. "That is very refreshing," she said softly to it, then went back to staring out of the window. Complaints and introductions were thrown around the inside of the "catty box with wheels," as Tora put it. Primrose couldn't keep a smirk off her face at the gripes about the heat. Although she wondered what made those clearly unsuited to the desert choose this area for exploration, she also took the time to repeat each name in her head. The three youngest of them, "Joker," "Skull," and "Panther" were clearly aliases, but keeping their true names concealed was their business.

There was a lull in conversation and Primrose sighed through her nose and let her eyes slip closed. My turn, is it? She took a few moments to think about what she wanted to tell these strangers, if anything.

"I mentioned earlier that my name is Primrose."

She would have been content to leave it at that, before she ended up traveling in a group back in her own world. Primrose thought about Alfyn and Cyrus, the chattiest among them, patiently extracting personal information from each of the travelers. She recalled Sir Olberic using some of that information to the group's advantage, explaining battle strategies that used their individual abilities to the fullest. It made fighting against the nastiest creatures in Orsterra a lot easier. It might help here, too.

"...I have... a particularly invigorating skill set," she told the Yellow Team, choosing her words carefully. Personally, Primrose wasn't ashamed of the life she'd lived until now. Frustrated with it, maybe, but not ashamed. However, it wasn't exactly the kind of thing you let slip while making your first impression. "And I'm familiar with traversing a desert."

It wasn't as friendly an introduction as Tora's, but it was at least more than just a name. It was all Primrose was really willing to give the ragtag team. Until she could find a way to unlock her magic, there as no use in including that either. There, official meetings over.

When the car came to a stop, Primrose elegantly stood and stepped out. Their destination, the mountain with the shimmering peak, was... still pretty far away. To be expected. Everything was farther away than it looked in the desert. It was part of the reason Primrose hadn't liked living there.

Who's to say this mountain isn't a mirage? the dancer thought to herself. Her eyes swept over the sky, which was naught more than sand, and the sand, which was naught more than... also sand. The sides of Primrose's mouth twitched slightly. She'd felt nostalgic at first, but now she was wondering why she hadn't chosen the ocean for a new adventure. The professor would say something like 'we are all but creatures of habit.' Maybe that's why. Creatures moving among the dunes caught her eyes and she watched them for a few moments. There was something else too, standing white against the dark stone totems.

And what do we have here...?

Fate/Glimmering Oasis

Edge of the City District

---

Rider's brow furrowed as he watched the plane. It was erratic, and more than likely part of another servant's noble phantasm. He summoned his spear to his hand, a simple but effective weapon. He was no Lancer, but he was more than proficient with it. As the plane got closer, and closer, Rider prepared himself for a battle. His face, partially obscured by a hood, shifted into an expression of determination. Then... the plane and it's pilot swerved hard, flying fast in another direction.

"..."

The disappointment felt only by true warriors threatened to creep into Rider's mind, but he wouldn't have to worry about it for very long. There as a prickle at the base of his neck that ran down the length of his spine. A dagger sailed passed his head as Rider turned, the weapon narrowly missing it's mark. It's origin was easily identified: the skull masked figure staring him down. Or... one of them at least.

Rider counted about twenty enemies surrounding him. They were different genders, shapes and sizes - but they all wore that skull mask. More importantly: Rider hadn't sensed them approaching at all. That meant only one thing.

Master, I've encountered the enemy Assassin.

An Assassin with the ability to clone themselves, it seemed. Or perhaps they were mirages, illusions of some kind. Until he knew for sure, Rider treated each and every one as the real deal. Before he could return to his master's side, he had to take care of these assailants. He couldn't lead them back to the boy. Although, if the enemy had the ability to split themselves apart, what was keeping them from sending a detachment after Daniel and the others...?

Be alert, there are many of them - and they could be coming your way. I will take cake of the ones here and come back as soon as possible.

Separated from the rest of them and with no response from his master, Rider had no idea that Team Daniel was already under attack. For now, he focused on the task in front of him. The way to accomplish that task... go on the offensive. Rider stepped off of his perch and shot towards the nearest Assassin, thrusting his spear at the dark body's heart. The Lakota warrior was confident in his speed and power, and he trusted his protection from arrows to fend off any projectiles the other bodies threw his way. The best way to deal with an assassin was an upfront confrontation, and Rider was prepared to give them just that.

Cacophony Concord

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_{HP: 110/110 - MP: 100/100 - SP: 90/100}
^{_________________}

Inspect User

I want a space here.

CHARACTER

Avatar Appearance
Username: Ames
Race: Human
Gender: Male
Height: 176cm | Weight: 69kg

Classes: Warrior (+10% HP | +10% STR | +10% END)
_{Weapon Proficiency: LVL 1}

Attributes:
HP – 10 (110)
MP – 10 (100)
SP – 10 (100)
STR – 22
AGI – 19
END – 22
DEX – 20
LUC – 21

Abilities:
Power Attack _{Actively consume SP while preparing for an attack; unleash for increased damage on attack.}

INVENTORY

Funds: 0
Item Pouch (Common):

• Fa Trung's Talisman x2 ^Equipped

Current User Experience

Perception: Fantastic
Gore: Pixelated
Pain Setting: 40%
Clothing Damage: On
Nudity Censor: Personal
Profanity Censor: Off
Combat Action: Stylish
Spell Incantations: Stylish

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^{_________________}
The look in the frogman's eyes... was it the spirit of a true martial artist? The kind of feeling you could only get a glimpse of in watching two combatants fight, and only fully experience when you were one of those combatants. That look melted away the ice faster than Ames herself ever could, but she was still nervous as a level one noob facing down a gigantic opponent. Thankfully, Magpie in all her malicious glory stole those eyes away from Ames. The warrior swallowed down a weird, foreign feeling of loss that came from nowhere and rushed forward herself, intent on using the opening. The shock of Amulak's spell and the reach of Klein's spear reached the frog first, but Ames was still pushing forward even while their largest party member was getting his skull cracked. When said party member came hurtling towards her, Ames suddenly came to a stop.

I am not about to get bowled over again! she thought. Ames gritted her teeth and skidded to a halt, spreading her arms as wide as possible. She used the built up strength of her power attack to catch Klein. Her arms barely made it around the man, but she stayed upright this time even as the two of them slid back from the sheer momentum of Klein being thrown. Once they came to a stop, Ames deposited the man onto the ground. It was really a shame they didn't have any potions or anything like that, but Klein would have to make due with two quick pats on the shoulder before Ames jumped back into the fray.

Mags was making some commotion and Raime was... Raime was...?!

"What the hell are you doing?!" Ames balked at the man making himself into a missile. It was certainly an impressive sight, but she couldn't see it working out well for him. Maybe she wouldn't be the first of their party to die after all. Aaah morbid thought.

Ames raced after Raime, although the other man's speed was greater than hers. While Raime's aim seemed to be just hitting the frog at full force in any way possible, Ames began charging another [Power Attack]. She expected that the agile frog would just dodge Raime's attack, and at the moment Ames would throw a fist at the creature's weak points - the stomach area, striking an organ would be good. She'd dissected enough frogs in high school to roughly know where they ought to be.

JoJo's Bizarre Adventure - Operation: Ground the Harpy

「Bad Case」sailed the short distance across the room with it's legs jerking and clicking uncomfortably in the air. With a sudden movement it swung itself around and landed on the brick wall opposite from where it was thrown. Without hesitation it scuttled along the wall until it reached the brick displaced by their lone agent on the outside of the cafe. Taras' voice came out through the little stand and was pushed out through that hole: "Agent, the sparkling bitch is escaping through the back. Catch her."

Taras himself sneered after the dancer's retreating form, but instead of chase after her he strode over to Yonaka and "the good bloke" - whom he leveled his gun at. Tall and thick, with with a grim expression and a loaded pistol, Taras cut an intimidating figure.

"Explain yourself plainly. Now." It seemed Taras wasn't so easy to win over. Still it was a good sign when he didn't shoot the other man right then and there. The situation did read like the woman trying to be rid of the evidence of a plan gone wrong... but Taras hadn't survived this long taking things at face value. Even if the now less-than-dark eyed man wasn't on the Nazi's side, they had to be sure. They also needed to be sure he wasn't some sleeper agent that could be "activated" again at any time. The fact was that the Russian agent didn't have all the facts, but he wanted them as soon as possible.

World of Light

^{(ft. The Master of Masters)}
Word Count: 3120 (+3)
Level: 1 - Total EXP: 3/10
Location: Smash City Alcamoth

"What was that all about?"

A woman emerged from the restroom area of Mona's Pizza. She was slender, and her showy clothes clung to the curves of her body. When she moved in a certain way, the coins braided into her outfit made a pleasant sound, but when she spoke it was even more pleasing to the ear. Her curly brown hair bounced lightly on her shoulders as she moved towards a booth were a young mage was already seated. All in all, Primrose appeared as a delicate flower seen through a fence: unreachable, but nice to gaze at.

She slid into the booth, and Ashley looked up at the dancer with the last of her pizza still in her mouth. Primrose's eyes slid to the forms of a metal woman and her small furry companion on their way out the door, and Ashley followed her gaze just before shrugging. The ladies' table was silent save for the sound of the chewing. Primrose pushed the half melted ice around in the glass she left there, patiently waiting to see if the girl, the closest thing she had to a friend here at the Alcamoth, would give Primrose her thoughts. It wasn't that the people in Smash City were unfriendly, but they were strangers; each and every one. Some of them were even a little too friendly. Ashley was a young girl who was more interested in her own spells than the past lives of other people. Primrose took a liking to her, and she was pretty sure that Ashley secretly enjoyed her company as well.

Eventually, the little witch did speak up.

"A bunch of new people showed up, I guess. They're in the lobby." She sounded so disinterested as she told Primrose the news. Her familiar, Red, must not have been part of these new arrivals. "Apparently they're going to save the world."

"Is that so...?" Primrose looked back over to the door. That was a lofty goal, saving the world. Even if these new people were just overeager do-gooders with more enthusiasm than concrete plans, Primrose would be lying if she she said she wasn't interested to see what they had to say. Just recently, all of the people living in the Alcamoth woke up and discovered that their situation wasn't normal. None of them were in their own worlds, and somehow this wasn't a dream.

The brunette woman stood, and the witch looked up at her without even the slightest movement of her head.

"Going to check it out?"

"I think so. Care to join me?"

Ashley just sank lower into the booth and picked her book back up, cracking it open with a defiant huff. Primrose chuckled and went ahead to the lobby, leaving the rambunctious restaurant behind for now.

Tucked away in a corner of the lobby, Primrose listened to a princess give a speech. It would certainly be rousing, if Primrose were the type to be roused. After the princess finished, the room exploded into activity. People rushed forward to swarm that poor secretary, others shouted about fighting, and still others surrounded that large man to ask about the specifics of his mercenary plan. There was a dark robed man talking about "spirits" that interested Primrose, and she made a note of returning to ask him some questions soon, but for now she had a different destination in mind. While everyone was chattering away in excitement or heading off to the arenas, Primrose quietly slipped away to the residential area.

While the dancer wasn't roused into excited, optimistic action, she was planning to help. There was a certain man she had to get answers from, and to do that she needed this broken "World of Light" to disappear, so she could get back to Orsterra. If her contributions would make that happen even just a little bit faster, then she would do it. The current team working with the Princess were heading toward a few different areas. The Dead Zone didn't sound very appealing at all, something like a graveyard. Or Hell, for all she knew. The other two she would be better suited for. Particularly the Sandswept Sky, a desert area. Primrose spent the majority of her adult life up until now living and working in the Sunlands. She was used to surviving in a harsh environment like that, but there were a few things she needed: food, water, and protection from the sun.

She slipped into various unoccupied rooms in the hall. I wonder what Therion would think of my technique, she idly thought as she rifled through drawers. She recalled one late night in the field outside of Noblecourt when the thief shared his words wisdom with her. He laid on his back with his arms folded behind his head and one leg cross over the opposite knee. 'You can be quiet or you can be quick,' he'd said. 'but the most important thing is to be calm.' Calm she was, Primrose took what she needed and left as if she'd robbed a hundred rooms already and grown bored of it. She exited the last room in a long, light colored cloak with a waterskin strapped to her hip. After a stop in her own room to grab to her bag, she made her way back to the lobby.

Now, after an announcement like the one he made, it was no wonder that the man - dubbed the “Master of Masters,” which wasn’t pretentious at all - drew a crowd around him. So Primrose waited, leaned against the wall a short distance away in a stolen cloak. She wasn’t out of sight by any means, but while that robed man was occupied perhaps she was out of mind.

She studied him, but it was hard to tell what kind of man he was. Or even if he was a man under that hood. For a few long moments Primrose stayed by the wall, even when the last of the crowd dispersed. Subtly she opened the bottom of her cloak up, letting glimpses of her legs show. It couldn’t hurt, she reasoned.

While listening in, she got all the basics of “spirits” down. She still had questions, and if she really wanted to go through with this, leave the safety of the Alcamoth and help the world get back to normal just a little bit quicker, then she wanted to know the answers to these questions.

“Do they die?”

Primrose slid up to the Master of Masters, posing her inquiry as a casual one. “Spirit implies a certain meaning... but where I come from, when someone is killed, they don’t... do this.”

The dancer looked into the dark space under the man’s hood. “So... the people turned into spirits. Are they dead?”

“Them’s the breaks, kid,” the mysterious man sighed. Extending an index finger, the Master of Masters tapped it against the air in front of his head. “This doggone World of Light doesn’t dance to the tune of any world that came before. Pieces of other worlds make it up, but everything falls under its own logic. That can be both bad and good though, you see.” He held his hands up as if weighing pros and cons literally. “Those who lose their hearts, their ‘ka’, their binding spark of life, lose their bodies and become spirits.” A spooky wiggle of the fingers. “But a spirit is someone’s essence, their personality, everything about ‘em that makes ‘em their own special snowflake. Come across an empty vessel and--poof! The vessel’s moulded by the spirit. Gotta breath some life in there, but that’s where magic comes in. Fusion happens when a vessel already has a spirit in it, so both fight over the vessel’s form and eventually resolve a merged body.” Though he spoke with charisma, the Master of Masters certainly gave off the impression of liking to show off his genius.

The alpha type, then, Primrose thought to herself. Although everything he said would have sounded crazy, in context with everything else it made sense. "The ka, spirits..." she repeated. The notion of taking someone else's power as her own was so intriguing to Primrose. If it would help her in her quest, she would do almost anything. The confirmation that she'd have to kill someone just to have that power was humbling though. Could she do that?

"An empty vessel, hm..." She tilted her head slightly in thought. "You're saying a spirit can... regain it's "ka," is that right?"

The Master nodded. “Right on the money. There’s some necromantic types that can do the trick, I bet. For instance, that Cuphead guy can visualize others’ lives as ghosts, and he can slap ‘em back into their bodies. Revival spells, skills, artifacts. Other ways even I don’t know about, I bet Get this: if a really strong-willed person loses a heart in a certain way, their spirit alone can keep the body intact and moving. Isn’t that just fascinating?”

"Indeed." That was fascinating, and Primrose lifted a delicate hand to her chin as she took that information in. The "heart," "spirit" and "body"... sounded like the start of a romance tale almost, if that sort of thing included fusing with another person. In a literal sense.

What Primrose gathered from this so far was that although becoming a spirit meant someone died, they didn't always have to stay dead.

She still had a question or two, and the man seemed more than inclined to answer them, but perhaps she could use that to her advantage. Get the source of his information. Primrose smiled at the Master of Masters, a touch of coyness in her expression. "How did you get to know so much about this?"

“We-he-hell,” the cloaked man began, twirling his hand before placing it on his chest. “I happen to know a thing or two when it comes to such matters. In addition to being a magician, scholar, researcher, inventor of things both living and nonliving…” he said, counting each off on a finger as he did, “I’m so fortunate as to have a Gazing Eye, capable of showing me everything that it will ever see. That means everything done by my apprentice, his apprentice, and on and on and on, even after I disappeared. Pretty cool, right?” He clearly appreciated someone else having a somewhat playful attitude.

The dancer nodded, though she didn't think it was particularly 'cool,' it was interesting. She shifted a hand to her hip and said, "That sounds useful. A special ability of yours?" Although what she was really asking was, 'can I obtain something like that too?' She could think of quite a few uses for something like that.

Primrose’s response made the Master of Masters chuckle. “Useful, hah. That’s underselling it. I’d say more ‘twist of fate’ than ‘special ability.’ Either way, it’s a heck of a burden. Knowing the fate of the worlds, which missions will succeed and fail, who will live and die...some might call it a curse.” His tone took a sudden turn for the serious, his theatrical manner suppressed.

The Master's shift in attitude took Primrose by surprise for the briefest of moments. She could believe he was being genuine, but then again, this type of man enjoyed playing a part. 'The hero with a chip on his shoulder,' was that the role the Master was playing now? Primrose gave him the moment of silence she thought he was looking for before she went on. While the Master was going off script, Primrose stuck to her lines.

"A curse, hm? A burden." She leaned in a little closer. "Are you saying it's too heavy for you?"

No matter how close Primrose got, the darkness within the Master’s hood remained impermeable. His head tilted to one side, and he clasped his hands behind his back. “Hardly. After all, the future cannot be changed, so knowing what’s ahead makes no difference. But knowing that one cannot prevent tragedy, knowing the extent it will reach...that’s the rough part. Not everyone, I think, could live with that.”

With that, Primrose agreed. There were certainly times she wished she could see into the future, to the end of her journey - but if she had the power, she might be afraid to look any farther. Not to mention seeing the lives of everyone around her, if what the man claimed was true. The robe he wore gave Primrose no clues either way. She stood back up straight and crossed her arms over her chest.

"It would take a strong person to be able to," she agreed. Her subtle compliment to the man was only habit. Primrose went over everything he'd told her, and the people before her, and she smiled again. "Alright. I have one more question for you."

A subtle shake of the head greeted the dancer’s conclusion that his ability to bear the burden came from strength. That line of conversation did not linger, however, and Primrose offered a lead-up to her final inquiry. “Well, spit it out then,” the Master told her, spinning a hand in the ‘carry on’ motion.

"And here I thought we had a connection," she sighed. Primrose followed the motion of his hand before her eyes flickered back up to the darkness where a face should have been. "Make that two questions, then I won't take up anymore of your time."

She didn't aim any hostility the Master's way, but her smile gradually turned from coy to cold. A more serious expression to match the tone the conversation had taken, even though she was bringing it back to the start.

"A strong enough spirit. Can it survive, even fused with someone else? And... if you return a spirit to a vessel, return it to life..." she trailed off, pausing to collect her thoughts. In the wake of all the things she was learning, her mask slipped just a little, and her next words were softer than the last. "...is it really the same person?"

The Master of Masters folded his own arms. “Spirits are not alive. They’re more or less just data. But even once fused, a spirit can be unfused. Miss Peach over there can do it, thanks to fusing with that soul-stealing scallywag, Mr. Grimm. And if a spirit is restored to a body, it’ll be just the same as it was before. Like picking up a book where you left off.”

An edge crept into his voice, as if he were speaking through a smile. “Before you go, allow me to share something with you, as a wise scholar of hearts. Well, a couple somethings. The first is that the flow of time is convoluted.” He looked out toward where the speech had taken place. “Remember Vandham, our big mercenary friend? He knew that li’l Tora guy. Tora remembers him dying, but here he is, right as rain.”

He returned his gaze to Primrose. “The second is that there is someone in the Under who can deal with lingering regrets. A Confessor. For the right price, she can summon lost spirits.” With a short laugh, he shrugged. “At least, that’s what I hear. Never been myself. Regret doesn’t do me much good.”

As the Master spoke, Primrose's brows grew furrowed and her hands gradually crept upward, holding each of her arms as if that would protect her from the Master's unseen eyes. Those "somethings" hit a little close to home.

"How generous of you," she said. She turned away, but didn't move on just yet. She was processing what the man just told her. Nebulous time, and a woman who could call back the dead - or something to that effect. Her first thoughts were of her father, and Yusufa. Her next were of Obsidian. While there was a pleasure to be gained in killing those men again, if the world was fixed and she returned to her own realm while they were still alive, it would only create problems. But, if she could bring someone back with her... Primrose gripped her arms tighter, dispelling that small hope. For now, she had to focus on one thing at a time.

She would remember that though. The Confessor, in the Under.

"Thank you," she said quickly. She looked back at the Master, her brows still pinched together turned her gaze into a glare. The look on her face was in contrast to her words. "That was helpful."

“Sweet, that’s more than I usually am.” The Master seemed upbeat, no matter what face came his way. “Bye bye now.”

After leaving the Master of Masters to his own devices, Primrose approached the counter. There were still a few people milling in front of it, so while in line she used the time to sort out more of her thoughts. Spirits were like bookmarks, in a sense. Or rather, the pages of a book... that took a little of the reservations Primrose had away. Ideally she could amass the power she was missing in order to get back to her own world and complete the goal she'd been working towards for the past ten years, then return the spirits she used to life. Although when the worlds all separated, there was no way to know if those spirits would return to their own universe. If time would go back to normal in each place. Well, until then Primrose had to use whatever was available to her, including "spirits." Gaining the knowledge and ability of another.

Ashley came to mind. Frustratingly, Primrose couldn't use her magic for some reason. She felt it, deep inside, but she couldn't bring it out. If she fused with Ashley, would the girl's witchcraft bring Primrose's dark magic to the surface? Although the thought crossed her mind, Primrose shook her head to send it away. She didn't think she could convince Ashley to willingly do something like that, and even if she could restore a spirit to life, killing a child was out of the question.

This will take a lot to get used to, she thought to herself. Once her turn at the counter came up, instead of signing up for a certain area she gave the secretary a list of seven names.

"If any of these people show up, please let them know that 'Primrose' was here."

With everything else sorted, Primrose chose a spot in the lobby where she could see as much of the space as possible and sat down. She pulled the cloak's hood up and kept an eye out for the desert team. When they left, she would steal away with them. All that was left to do was wait... something that Primrose was well practiced at.

Cacophony Concord

aмeℓιa

aмeѕ
 aмeѕ

_{HP: 110/110 - MP: 100/100 - SP: 100/100}
^{_________________}

Inspect User

I want a space here.

CHARACTER

Avatar Appearance
Username: Ames
Race: Human
Gender: Male
Height: 176cm | Weight: 69kg

Classes: Warrior (+10% HP | +10% STR | +10% END)
_{Weapon Proficiency: LVL 1}

Attributes:
HP – 10 (110)
MP – 10 (100)
SP – 10 (100)
STR – 22
AGI – 19
END – 22
DEX – 20
LUC – 21

Abilities:
Power Attack _{Actively consume SP while preparing for an attack; unleash for increased damage on attack.}

INVENTORY

Funds: 0
Item Pouch (Common):

• Fa Trung's Talisman x2 ^Equipped

Current User Experience

Perception: Fantastic
Gore: Pixelated
Pain Setting: 40%
Clothing Damage: On
Nudity Censor: Personal
Profanity Censor: Off
Combat Action: Stylish
Spell Incantations: Stylish

aмeѕ
 aмeѕ

^{_________________}
Damn, Raime really got flung - and he didn't even take a direct hit! Ames wanted to reach out to the man and make sure he was okay, but the enemy was turning her way.

It was a bit chilling, having the frog's attention. As some of the dust cleared and Ames met the amphibian's eyes, she felt her body freeze up. The spookiness of looking at something dangerous so close overwhelmed the excitement of facing a strong enemy in a game. Ames gave the creature a shaky smile as if to say oops, did I do that. Then, she breathed out slowly through her nose, trying to melt away the figurative ice that held her limbs in place.

From the corner of her eyes she saw the rest of the party regrouping. As Mags and Amulak were going back on the offensive, Ames shifted in place. The warrior took a grounded stance, preparing a [Power Attack]. With no weapon and no levels, it looked way less intimidating than Ames hoped it would, but perhaps that could work to get advantage. It the frog was pissed at her she was out of luck, but if it changed tactics and went after the others attacking it, maybe she could pull off her delayed action!

...though she did feel a bit bad about wishing a giant frog man would attack one of her friends and not her.

Windfall ☄ A Character-driven Fantasy

Okay! Took a bit but we're back on track! The opening IC post is up!

Feel free to ask questions or leave comments here or in the discord. You'll notice that a few characters are solo right now - but don't worry, we'll get them into position to join a group as soon as possible. Time in the RP is kind of nebulous, so don't sweat keeping up or anything like that. The characters that are currently solo also have a bit more freedom when it comes to which group they can join in with at the moment, so if there's a preference just let me know... otherwise, right now it's split up by general area.

Going forward, I mentioned that in the OOC that there is no post deadline for this RP. This remains true. I'll check in with people now and then if they've gone quiet for a while but otherwise my hope is for a story that people can keep coming back to and don't have to feel pressured by deadlines. Of course, I do ask to be considerate of the other players in the RP. Try not to keep your friends waiting too long, and also don't badger your friends to keep posting. Respect on all sides!

GM updates will be as needed to move each character and group along. It won't always be a ginormous post like the opener, it could just be for 1-2 characters if those are the only ones that need moving along. If you want to write some natural sounding dialogue with NPCs, just let me know and I would be very happy to write collabs with any of you.

I sound like a broken record by now but thank you for waiting!

Windfall ☄ A Character-driven Fantasy

Everywhere in Sedaia, from the Snowlands to the Scorchlands, was washed in a summer glow. Warmth was spreading throughout the nation, and people were roaming the countryside. The last busy days of Spring were over. During the day, families sang of happiness and freedom. At night, stars streaked across the sky carrying the wishes of the people to their loved ones in the Afterrealm.

Parades of wagons made their way down roads throughout Sedaia, trailing festive banners and converging in the center of the country. Wherever music played, a passionate voice would join in. Lovers reunited for summer romance, and children ran wild and free in the grass.

Life was good.

There were poeple in Sedaia that were happy to enjoy the warm months at home.

Then there were people that took to the road...

People like…

---

♬♩ Heading out of the Midlands in search of a powerful holy artifact:

Eliza Chayre

---

“Do you think she’ll be alright?”

“Who?”

“Paladin Chayre.”

Two young men were knee deep in stable muck, meticulously braiding the tails of great white horses. One was dark haired and sour faced, while the other was blonde and burst into laughter.

”Paladin Chayre! My gods, that was a good one. You - oh, you weren’t joking?”

The serious expression on his companion’s face told him as much. The man coughed into his fist to compose himself while the other stablehand went on.

“I know she’s strong, but I heard the other paladins talking. They said it was a wild goose chase…”

The blonde man shrugged, turning his eyes back to the task in front of them. Two locks of horse hair in each hand - over, under, over, under. “Remember when she bested Paladin Kouch in a mounted race even though he’s the fastest rider in the Midlands?”

“That’s not really the same.”

“Remember when she cleared the whole hillside of monsters when everyone claimed they bred too fast to be rid of?”

“...”

The stablehands worked in silence for a while after that. By the time it was past noon and the sun was just starting it’s descent, a dozen horses had their tails neatly tied. They flicked them lazily and waited for the men to start on their manes. The stablehands inspected their work for a few moments. Some weren’t braided as tightly as they should have been, but the flies were starting to swarm about the animal pens and the summer heat wasn’t going to let up any time soon.

“I hope that thing she’s chasing is fake.”

“Why’s that?”

“Would you really want her around to tell us to start over? ‘You are disgracing the Cathedral with such lazy braiding!’ Bah, I can imagine that all too well. The longer she's away, the better!”

–——————— ❂ ——————–

So it was that the paladin found herself away from the Capitol and on the cusp of the Midlands, on a dusty road that ran through a field of wild grass. In her hand was an old parchment map, with a vague drawing of a stone castle and a heading of North. The priests in the Cathedral hypothesized that “the artifact,” an unknown phenomenon that could allegedly heal any ailment, could have belonged to some ancient civilization and was lost after the Godking unified the country.

That must be why we have so little information about it. Only tales, one priest shared with Eliza while she was preparing for her journey. Whether this was true or false, it mattered little. All that mattered was that a paladin was entrusted with a mission to find this artifact, and she would see this mission through.

The oldest ruins in Sedaia were dotted throughout the Highlands and the Snowlands. All kinds of old things slumbered there; cultures, magi, beasts. Where other regions saw their history ploughed and planted over, the rougher terrain of the Northern reaches of the country preserved through the sheer inconvenience it would have caused men to try and tame it.

A cart passed Eliza by, rumbling down the dirt path and shifting dust into the air. From the back of the wagon three pairs of feet dangled. A man with a cloth over his face, and two women - one older and one younger. The girl waved at Eliza as they passed.

_@stone

---

♬♩ Crossing into the Croplands in pursuit of a mystery monster:

Cassius Vance

---

Every first hand account of the “Woodard Plantation Monster” was different. The creature was huge, but human sized. It had glowing eyes, or sunken ones, or no eyes at all. It had rows of razor sharp teeth and sometimes even three mouths full of them. It was bipedal but walked on four legs more often. It had huge claws and wings and claws for wings.

It also had two heads. Sometimes.

However, there was one consistent feature about the monster through every report.

It was so terrifying that the entire plantation’s staff was threatening to quit.

“The worst part is the staff is spreading the nasty news around,” Kalar Woodard growled from behind his desk. “Every new hire gets scared off as soon as they arrive. If the whole staff quits I’ll lose hundreds of gold in produce before I can replace them all.”

Woodard stroked his mustache as he regarded Cassius at his estate, all those days ago. His frown was deep, but his pockets were deeper and he set a large bag of jingling coins on the dark wooden desk. He raised an eyebrow at his newest mercenary.

“All the men I’ve hired to hunt the monster have run off too. I hope you’ll find this payment very generous Mr. Vance. I’ll send you to the Croplands with a portion of it, and the rest will be waiting for you here when you bring back good news for me.”

Perhaps the fact that Woodard hadn’t even entertained the idea of an “if” weighed on Cassius’ mind as heavy as the coins weighed in his purse as he neared the last leg of his trip across the Scrublands. Cropland Pass was a popular destination in the summer, and this area of the country was crowded with people of all types. There were nobles on holiday heading towards their second properties in the Croplands, as well as peasants from all over Sedaia intending to maintain those properties for pay. It was a system that seemed to work, but even the largest of farms only had need for so many people. By late summer it was a competition to get hired for the lowliest positions, let alone farm or house work.

Most people were heading South just as Cassius was, filling the road ahead with chatter. Some we headed the opposite direction with their possessions strapped to their back and haunted looks in their eyes.

“C’mon, hurry hurry! We don’ wanna get stuck workin’ the pig pen!” A stocky woman brushed past the monster hunter, dragging a scruffy man behind her. As they hurried away, more of their conversation drifted over the talk of the crowd.

“If yer that worried we can jus’ go t’one of the bigger places, they’re always hirin’. Eastern part o’the place got lotsa big farms. Grupeir place, Baker place, Wood--”

“Not that last one! My cousin’s friend’s brother said his cousin worked nearby the Woodard place and they got some huge animal tearin’ the place apart!”

“Oh, yer cousin’s friend said that?”

“No, my cousin’s friend’s brother, y’know the tall skinny one? Actually I dunno if ya would’ve met him...”

Their words tapered off the farther away they got, but their conversation had already steered itself into vague family drama. News of the monster had indeed spread, but to think it had made it out of the Croplands entirely…

People continued to fill the road and the space around it before eventually spreading out through the Cropland Pass. Although the town's entrance was congested, the crowd parted for a few people from time to time. A girl who seemed to be traveling alone, and a young man with a hoe secured to his back to name a few. And though most also parted for Cassius after a glance at the sword strapped to his hip, some refused to give up their spot in line at the gate. Two men took up space just waiting there, their eyes leering after every young girl that was heading out of town.

_@PrankFox

---

♬♩ On the way home after receiving a vague letter:

Nea Honeyforge

---

It wasn’t exactly an extravagant send off, but still a small crowd gathered around Nea on the dawn of her departure from the estate. The kitchen staff she’d worked closely with pressed dried fruit, herbs, and roots into her palms and whispered well wishes into her ears. Housekeepers smiled and gossiped about the reasons Nea could be leaving them, but passed her sturdy hand me down cloths all the same. A few of the field workers even stopped to say their goodbyes, clapping the girl on the back or shoulder and asking for promises to return soon.

One boy about Nea’s age quickly stuffed a ripe, round grapefruit into her satchel. He put one finger to his lips to plead the girl’s silence, then slipped away and back to work. The fruits of Karstein’s orchard were good quality, but there was so little opportunity for his own staff to savor them. It was only right that Nea get one last taste, and the other people gathered turned their eyes away just this once.

“Ahem.”

The estate’s manager and head servant approached, quieting the chatter. After a few moments, the old man cleared his throat again and gave a pointed glance to each and every person gathered, finally dispersing the staff and leaving only Nea and himself at the property’s edge. It was a beautiful piece of land, with greenery as far as the eye could see. High topiaries in the shape of serpents stood tall over the two of them, their leafy faces pointed out as if to watch Nea as she left.

“You’ve done good work here.”

It was as much of a compliment as the younger servants ever got from Mr. Nathaniel. The man handed her a small pouch of money, nodded to her, then turned away and went back into the manor.

That had been two days ago. Karstein’s estate was on the further edge of the Croplands, but travel within the region’s borders was quick and constant. Farmhands moving from estate to estate, merchants picking up supplies to peddle, nobles traveling to and from their own spacious properties to that of neighboring ones to gloat and gossip. There were always two or three wagons on the road willing to trade a ride for some company.

One such small caravan ushered Nea and a couple of others out of the back of the cart at the turn-around just outside of Cropland Pass.

“If you’re going far, make sure you stick to the main road!” The wagon driver called out. A couple of the passengers waved the man off, gripped their packs tightly and headed straight out of town. Croplands Pass was just as lively now as it was two years ago when Nea first arrived there. Just as before, there were more people heading into the region than out, and this time Nea found herself in the latter group.

There were a couple of others headed away from town. A blue clothed man carrying a hoe, who fit right in with the crowd. A couple of scruffy looking men, who didn’t. Men armed to the teeth walked the other way, most likely more mercenaries hired to clear out problem areas to make room for more farmland.

It was a warm, clear day. A cold grunt cut through the hum of voices, and a hand landed on Nea’s shoulder. One of the scruffy men from just before had a loose hold on her, and his partner pushed off from a post and started making his way over.

“Where you headed?” The man gruffed.

_@ERode

---

♬♩ In search of any leads to cure his curse:

Ori Tabel

---

Well, that had been a bust.

The capital city had little to offer Ori other than food, drink, games, music - okay, it had a lot to offer the young man. Nothing he needed, though.

Nothing that would save his life.

Haydrin’s Seat was deep in preparation for the Celebration of Kings. Vendors of all kinds were running sales and less than eager to speak with anyone that wasn’t a customer. Students and scholars in the area were taking a break from their learning and drinking in all kinds of mead rather than words on a page. Even the members of the Cathedral, usually so welcoming, were harried with requests from locals and visitors to the city. Where the clergy shied away from Ori’s talk about a bloodline curse, offered him condolences, advised him to make peace with his life and ultimately turned him away… the Hungry Sow Tavern welcomed him with open arms.

So did the Drunken Hound, the Whistling Dragon, and the Old Oak.

Public officials gave Ori unhelpful platitudes, while pub patrons handed him interesting information of all kinds. People were friendly, handsy, talkative. Even the most sullen of drunks couldn’t help but be infected by the holiday cheer spreading through Haydrin’s Seat. Men and women sighed rumors into Ori’s ears, drew crude maps on his palms with their fingers.

You have to eat the heart of a dragon, one said. Actually it’s a phoenix heart, someone else corrected.

There’s a tribe of people in the South that still use the cursed magic, a woman whispered with a nervous glance at the guardsman at the bar.

I heard there was a spring in the Tidelands that could heal wounds just by bathing in it, an older man said. He leaned back in his chair and scratched his chin. My mother told me that story. Probably isn’t true, though.

Eventually the stories were repeating themselves, and alcohol all started tasting the same. It was time to move on.

–——————— ❂ ——————–

“There, that’s everything. Let’s get going. Jona, can you take the reins?”

“Sure, momma.”

A scrawny boy patted the side of the family horse, a painted mare, as he climbed up into the driver’s seat of their wagon. His mother, a tall woman with braided blonde hair trailing down her back, lifted her daughter into the cart’s back. The girl’s leg was bandaged, but otherwise she seemed excited for a journey.

She turned to Ori and smiled at him softly. Even through the cloth bind covering his eyes, she knew he could see her expression.

“Let us give you a ride Ori. It’s the least we can do to repay you. Please.”

The woman’s words were earnest and hopeful, although she left room for Ori to refuse her offer. Her daughter peered after the blind man, and her stare was less compromising. It was a look that clearly said “I’ll never forgive you if you don’t come along with us,” and so Ori found himself traveling Westbound out of the Midlands.

“The Scrublands get so hot this time of year,” the matriarch sighed, fanning herself with one hand.

“Where are you going next Ori?”

“It’s not polite to ask personal questions like that.”

“Aaaw, momma!”

Mother and daughter sat in comfortable silence after that, but it didn’t last for very long. The older woman hummed softly just before speaking again.

“We’ll be happy to take you anywhere you want to go, though. Or part of the way at least, if it’s very far.”

Beside them, the daughter listened in but was already more interested in what was around them. Her eyes grew wide as they passed a woman in armor. “A knight,” she whispered to herself, waving at the knight.

_@Aviaire

---

♬♩ On the road North seeking any and all help:

Kendra Damyar

---

The dull crackle of fire. The shaking of dead seeds in a carefully blown glass jar.

A bone deep sigh echoed around the camp.

“You old timers sure like to sit around feeling sorry, hm?”

Various eyes turned toward the man seated by the bonfire. He was young, strong, and this wasn’t the first time he attracted looks of annoyance. In the face of their squinted gazes, the man merely raised a bushy eyebrow.

“I’m right,” he stated.

It was the middle of the day, but the campfire was still lit since one of their own left just before dusk the day before. In the Scorchlands, it was safer to travel by night in the summer. Roaming monsters were dangerous but uncommon - the sun was an ever present threat. Tazia’s heat took life just as easily as her light gave it.

People approached the fire every now and then, throwing what little they had to spare into it. A tradition to pray for the safety of their missing member. They threw scraps of food to wish her well fed, herbs for luck, small chunks of mineral for protection. They all ignored the haughty man lounging on the dried earth. “You know, I’ve been thinking. Of actually doing something.”

“Chapa, thinking? I don’t believe it.”

A woman so old it looked to be a miracle she could still move laughed at her own joke, and those within earshot laughed with her. Slowly, she moved toward the small pile of flames and dropped a misshapen stone into it.

“We were all scared. To leave our home behind, but we did it. Then we were scared to leave our family, but Kendra dispersed that fear for us. She is a brave woman who needs our support. Send positive thoughts to her, instead of spreading negative ones around here.”

The man, Chapa, pinched his eyes closed and sighed out through his nose. He flopped onto his back with a dark tint to his cheeks. After a few moments he opened his eyes and stared into a cloudless blue sky.

“I’m already worried about her.”

“We all are.”

–——————— ❂ ——————–

Upon the crest of a hill, a wide open plain spread out in front of Kendra. Short, dry clumps of grass dotted the land, and further in the distance shrubs and bushes grew large and squat. Even further, short trees could be seen. The Scrublands weren’t all that dissimilar from the Scorchlands, especially in the areas where they bled together. The whole of the region was available to Kendra, wherever she decided to go.

Scorchland Pass was just a small trading post, and unlike most of the other “Passes” in the Scrublands, not every path ran through it. Perhaps that was the reason it was so small in the first place. It did provide valuable food and drink to travelers through the desert though.

Kendra’s horse snuffled idly at the ground. After only a night’s travel, it was still in good condition and waiting it’s rider’s order. On horseback, traversing the Scrublands wouldn’t take long at all - at least, in some directions. Stretching nearly the entire length of Sedaia, the region was long but it would give her access to the rest of the country.

The answer lies beyond us, a vision told one of the elders of Kendra’s village. This premonition wasn’t distressing news, but the opposite. There was a way to bring life back to their native land. Even if the answer was far away, it existed, somewhere out there.

Everyone that helped load supplies onto Kendra’s horse had a different theory for her. Some suggested she try the Cathedral in the capital, hoping that some higher power would have the solution. Naturally, others strongly recommended against this. Gods or not, the Midlands was home to many people with powerful minds, wallets, and influences.

Of course, there were also those suggested - somewhat bitterly - to go after that mining company that invaded Tailend and started this mess in the first place. Where that group operated from was unknown to the Scorchlanders, but they certainly spoke like Northerners.

A shadow passed overhead, accompanied by a sand eagle’s screech.

_@SilverPaw

---

♬♩ Lost but not alone, looking for a friend's family:

Tala Wranvyre

---

Far away from Talanashta’s lonely tower, the Croplands were bustling with travelers. In the town right outside her abode, people smiled politely at the mage but otherwise avoided her. On the road, most strangers did the same. Tala’s long hair, strange robes, and avian company had many thinking that she must have been a noblewoman of some kind.

Of course, when she stopped to ask directions the situation changed, and people stumbled over their words in their eagerness to point Tala in the right direction.

More than once passing carriages pulled up alongside Tala, and actual noblemen peeked out from inside to inquire about the bird she carried on her shoulder.

Wicket was a gorgeous animal, but if birds could growl he surely would have whenever the envious eyes of wealthy men swept over his golden plumage. Needless to say, each and every prospective buyer went on their way Wicket-less.

It took a few days of travel up and down the region, but eventually Tala arrived in what might as well have been the largest city in Southern Sedaia: Cropland Pass. It was only through the goodwill of passersby that Tala made it here, but she was here nonetheless. Currently she stood in the center of town, near a large signpost with angular shaped wood pointing in dozens of directions.

There were people all around, moving with purpose. Most were coming from the direction of the massive gate separating the Croplands from the Scrublands, but there were a few headed out as well. On the edges of the streets, there were a relative handful of inns, an armful of taverns, and a barrelful of merchants trading goods with each other and the general populace. Though most were selling the early summer produce of the year, some sellers with clothes the likes many Croplanders had never seen were peddling fabric, jewelry, and animal parts. Children screamed and laughed, family dogs barked and horses brayed, customers haggled loudly and a merry band played music out of sync.

It was lively. Maybe even a bit overwhelming. Thankfully the commonfolk gave Tala space, preferring to brush shoulders with each other rather than risk the wrath of an eccentric lord that preferred travel by foot.

Of course, now that Tala had made it here to Cropland Pass… the question was where was her next destination?

It had been a long time since Tala liberated Wicket from his captors. Wherever the smugglers had come from, as well as their destination, was information Tala had no way of knowing now. Perhaps it was time to consider her options. There was no shortage of people leering at the beautiful hawk perched on Tala’s shoulder, maybe those that were in the market of buying animals knew where they were sold from. There were also plenty of men and women that looked well traveled: traveling salesmen, nomads here for summer work, and many mercenaries stuck at the gate waiting to get in. It was possible any of them knew what Wicket was, and where he came from.

–——————— ??? ——————–

“What in tarnation do you mean we musta missed her?”

“Look, by the time we finally found the damned place again, she - “

“Look nothin’, if you lot don’t find that woman soon, I’m gonna drag y’all to the Afterrealm myself!”

_@Anza

---

♬♩ In search of what it means to be a true hero:

Derrick Lowborn

---

The sound of pleasant humming filled the little swamp hut. It was mostly wooden, with an outer layer of mud and clay that formed a domed roof where moss clung, blending the house’s silhouette into the forest around it. The home was even partially sunken into the murky water, but nothing stank or molded inside - at least in places the woman didn’t want it to. There were some uses for a good mold, after all.

Usually there was a rudimentary bridge connecting the mage’s hut to the nearest piece of solid land in the Great Swamp, but today it was mysteriously gone. The woman - dark eyed and short haired - closed herself into her home a few hours before.

Sometimes her humming transformed into song. She softly mouthed the lyrics of a spoken poem from a bygone era, swaying back and forth in the small kitchen that doubled as her work space. For once the sun was shining bright on the Lowlands, and the light cut through the canopy overhead and into the house. It was a warm day, same as yesterday, but it was never unbearable there in the Northern parts of the region. Fragrant flower buds lay on wooden countertops, joined by pungent leaves and the corpses of small animals.

“I have such a good feeling about today,” she sighed to herself. Last night, as comets passed over the Great Deer constellation, the swamp mage had a vision. A premonition, even. A big, bumpy, brown bullfrog inhaling a rush of water, and swallowing its own tadpoles as it did so.

Though she couldn’t say for sure whether it was a sign for caution of celebration, the vision pleased her all the same.

“It is my favorite time of year when the spirits fall to the Earth. Lots of potential. For good things, for bad things.” The woman gingerly lifted a raven’s skull, cooing at it as if it were an old friend. “Let us check in, hmm~?”

Gently, but firmly, she took the skull in both hands and pressed in until the bone snapped and crumpled in her grip. She set the pieces down in a dull ceramic dish, and repeated the crushing motion with a speckled grey egg. The yolk ran yellow and red over her fingers and down until it settled on the bone fragments below. The woman’s face was serene. She smiled and returned to humming as the contents of the dish slowly began to move.

–——————— ❂ ——————–

Before Derrick stood a truly insurmountable task. It was an obstacle that separated the the heroes sung about in ballads and the wannabes. A place that put many great men to shame, sending them home with their tails between their legs.

A crossroads.

Well, to say the place where Derrick stood was a true crossroads was disingenuous. On his right was the path out of the Lowlands that everyone took. It was well worn; the divots of carriages gone by prevented the grass from reclaiming the trail anytime soon, and what trees that could be culled had been a long time ago, making the road seem more friendly and spacious. To Derrick’s left was the beginnings of a thick, imposing forest. For anyone else, it would be impassable. However, for those few Lowlanders that spent their lives weaving in and out of the dense swamps it might be possible to cross. Derrick was one such Lowlander.

The swamp witch laughed when she told Derrick about the troubles of peasants that came to visit her. The more powerful people knew better, and it was only as a last resort that they came to her part of the swamp. When they talked about great beasts, she passed the information along to the Scourge. Aftering fighting through what the Lowlands had to offer, Derrick had a few leads outside of the region: a cryptic beast terrorizing the Croplands, where he could quickly arrive if he cut through the forest, a great serpent spotted on the coast of the Tidelands, moving in closer every day, and the exodus of monsters throughout the Scorchlands.

There was no easy way to tell which claims were true or not, or how old they were without seeing for himself: the woman never shared that with him.

Birds squawked at the monster slayer from both directions.

_{@Cu Chulainn}

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♬♩ Out of the Capitol looking for a permanent escape:

Kayliss Lambert

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The last few days were hard. When Vashen convinced everyone that Kayliss was a national threat that needed to be eliminated, no one questioned it. With the Celebration of Kings so close, the royal family decided not to panic the civilians with the thought of a dangerous traitor in their midst - but even so, the search for Kayliss was just short of a public manhunt. Guardsmen, royal knights, and Kayliss’ fellow spies were swarming Haydrin’s Seat in pursuit of the woman they’d worked alongside for years. It seemed like every street hawker had a guard in his shadow, and under every festive lantern was the ornate helmet of a knight.

The capitol was covered, but any good sneak knew there would always be a few stones left unturned.

“Is that fuckin’ Kayliss?”

One such stone was the performing troupe of one Baldrick Fisher. They were a hard group to pin down, with a member size and base of operations that constantly changed. It also didn’t help that the only crime that stuck to them was public nuisance, so keeping track of the group was considered a low priority. Despite that, many peacekeepers were convinced that behind their badly put together music acts, they were a cunning group of thieves and con artists with branches that reached well outside of the Midlands… but with only coincidences, no hard evidence, it gave the “Fishermen” the freedom to move about Haydrin’s Seat.

Yes, they were hard to find - but Kayliss was a professional.

Was.

“Wow, it is. Heard through the lilaberry vine that every tinhead in this place is after you.”

The duo of men snorted with laughter as they took in the pitiful sight of a woman on the run. As far as master thieves went, these two actually looked like stereotypical fishermen - wide hats, light clothes, poles held loosely in their hands and a bucket of dead insects between them. The river that ran through the edge of town was an odd spot to cast a line, but fish did swim the waters, and it wasn’t unheard of that a man could catch his dinner there. Kayliss knew better, though.

“Sorry hun, we ain’t hiring right now.”

“Plus we don’t do business with wanted criminals.” The irony of the first man’s statement brought a smirk to his companions face. “What’d the King ever do to you anyway?”

It looked like the two shady friends had more zingers lined up, but the stone wall behind them shifted. One of the stones sunk away, disappeared, and was replaced by a pair of curious - if mildly annoyed - eyes. When these eyes landed on Kayliss, they widened in surprise. From behind the stone came a muffled voice:

“Is that fucking Kayliss?”

–——————— ❂ ——————–

You want out, I can help you.

Kayliss was ushered into the hidden space behind the wall, dark save for a single sconce far down the tunnel.

I know a guy or two with the skill set you need.

At the end of the cramped walkway, there was a dimly lit elliptical room. Men and women lounged inside, tuning their instruments or otherwise making idle chatter. When Kayliss was brought into the light, they all grew silent.

But it ain’t gonna be free.

At the back of the room, a large bearded man slowly stood up from behind a table that was much too small for him. He was someone that Kayliss would recognize as Baldrick’s lieutenant, and he gave the recently unemployed spy a broad smile.

This is what we need you to do.

That was then, and now Kayliss was stowed away in the back of a family’s covered wagon, on a long dusty road accompanied by soft voices. The Fishermen gave her just one thing besides her means of escape from Haydrin’s Seat: a single golden feather, the only clue to her quarry.

_{@Psyker Landshark}

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♬♩ Leaving home and following his brother's trail:

Jason Miller

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When Jason left his family’s small farm in the heart of the Croplands, he was surrounded by people that loved him. What few neighbors were around came by to wish him good luck, and made sure to give him lots of food for the journey. These people had lived in the same spot their whole life, and while their generosity was genuine it was unfortunate that most of the food they packed for Jason wasn’t suited for travel, and would most likely spoil within a few days time.

There was a decent sized chunk of cheese that looked like it would last a while though.

Jason’s parents were as encouraging of their son’s journey as they were sad to see him go. That was to say, they were very emotional. They made sure that Jason had warm clothes, sturdy shoes, and as many coins as they could spare.

Besides the few jeers from a passing carriage when his mother insisted on smothering her taller son into her bosom, it was a touching send off.

It had been months since William’s last letter. The Miller family tried not to let their worry show through in their daily lives, but as time dragged on with no word of their other son, that worry began to eat away at them. That Jason was leaving in search of him brought relief and fear to their hearts. It brought pride too, that they had raised such wonderful boys.

The last few letters his brother sent were tucked safely away on the inside of Jason’s bag, and a woven good luck charm was swinging from the outside of it. It was clear in every line William wrote that the young man was excited at the prospect of becoming a knight. He documented every place he stopped on his way to the capital city, and every interesting thing he saw and person he met. His last letter was slightly wrinkled from wear of the family reading it over and over.

dear ma, pa, and jason,

i made it to the capital. it’s bigger than i ever dreamed of. nearly whole place is made of cobblestone. there are so many people living here too.

i found out where the knights train, but they said they don’t accept just anyone. i have to apply and prove myself. i don’t feel nervous at all actually i’m happy i found them so quick. i’m going back tomorrow to apply for real and i will let you know how it goes. until then i am going to look around the city more, it was too big to see in one day.

you know how they say the world is small? That’s true even in a city so big. i ran into sara, you know the mason’s daughter what used to live down the road? we were both so surprised, i can’t wait to see who else i will meet, especially after i become a knight.

that’s all for now, i still have some money left so i’m renting a room at an inn. hope it doesn’t take too long to get used to sleeping in a barracks!

hope you’re all doing well, love, william

It wasn’t the most exciting letter, but the most important information was there: William’s last known location was Haydrin’s Seat. He’d made it to his destination. So what happened once he got there?

It was a question for Jason to chew on as he passed through the gate into the Scrublands. When his mother couldn’t find a passing merchant to buy the family’s produce, sometimes she would make the trek here - and sometimes she brought one of her sons along with her. It was the same as ever; a loud and rowdy town where hopes floated in the air alongside the shouts of peddlers. Pushing through the crowd of farmers just like him, and some stranger looking people, Jason made it outside where a line was forming in order to gain entrance. The line of people, both civilians and mercenaries by the look of some of them, was pushed to one side. The rest of the road was open, only a girl with two men and a handful of other people heading in the same direction.

_{@Crimson Flame}

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