Location: Torragon, Refuge of St. Agustin - The Desert. Day of the week: Victendes Time: Morning Characters: Zarina, Ayla @Ti, Jocasta @Force and Fury, Yalen @Pantothenic, Isabella, Amanda, Marceline, Rangers, Riesco, Nibbler.
Dawn arrived with Amanda briefing the group. The platinum warrior prepared Riesco and her gear for an inevitable life or death situation that these missions seemed to entail.
Then, they set off. This time without any dromedaries as portals were all the rage. Except, of course, for Zarina herself and her heavily armoured steed she seated herself over. And there was Nibbler, wearing his thermal sweater levitating seamlessly over Zarina’s head. Marceline was left behind, leaving them with a squad of five, soo to be four meant to meet up with the rangers.
But they were gone. Nowhere to be found by their Tethered duo within the ruins. However, Jocasta was quick to warn the group of a familiar foe, albeit this time an alpha, “Starting with a callback for this sequel, huh?” she remarked as she slid her silver helmet over her head, completing her set, “We did this once before. We’ll do this even better.” Nibbler braced himself onto her helm while Riesco neighed as he charged into Jocasta’s portal.
A scorching storm greeted them with the almighty blonde taking in the bulk of it before it could incinerate all within the massive area. It wasn’t enough, and soon they would all die. Zarina’s left arm appeared to expand, taking the form of a large greatshield resembling the head of a dragon with a cannon within its maw. Riesco stomped the sands, grounding himself thanks to his magical horseshoes in front of Jocasta, allowing Zarina to lift her shield and taking in the descending shower of pure, white death. The shape of the shield expanded as if it were melting, covering them as much as possible.
“C’mon you bitch.” Zarina growled inside her helm, “Take. It. ALL!” her idle hand pressed to her forearm to add some stability to her shield, but it would be thanks sand, crag-like formation adding to the shield’s scales and an invigorating warmth filling Zaz that she could eventually deflect the remained of the wain of death with a mighty roar of exertion.
“Nibbler!” she called out to the critter that remained on her head as Ayla seized her opportunity. She too felt empowered, potentially strong enough to even influence an alpha Royal Sand Wyrm.
Location: Wánggǎng, ReTan Day of the week: Victendes Time: Early Evening Characters: Abdel, Maura @Ti, Ingrid @dragonpiece, Niallus @McKennaJ71, Yalen @Pantothenic, Trypano @A Lowly Wretch, Rikard @Force and Fury, Kaureerah, Loads of ReTanese folks, Jianhong, Xiulan, Wu Long, Captain Khu, Dayanara, Qadira, Zorayas
Their arrival in the gargantuan nation went without a hitch, if the eerie appearance of Yalen freaking out Abdel a little didn’t constitute a hitch, anyway. He didn’t overreact, just a long, rude stare as he wondered if he was seeing things. Perhaps this staring was one of the causes for Yalen being designated as the de facto leader of the group, much to Abdel’s girlfriend’s disappointment. And boy did she make her disappointment known in her own way.
The tedium that was introduction customs were made known quickly to them, prompting the younger Tethered boy to shift his attention to the lavishly clothed entourage of the deputy head governor. Abdel formed a fist with his right hand and rested his flat left hand over it, offering brief bows as he saluted each with the gesture. “Investigator?” he sheepishly asked with a smile, “我只是找人.” he clarified, shaking his head in light embarrassment.
The nearby guards took Dayanara and Qadira by the bridles they wore, much to their complaining, although Abdel made sure to sedate them. Still, he didn’t feel alright letting these non-native creatures be handled by beastmasters that don’t even know what they are. He made sure to keep track of them with his range, if only to temper their moods. Meanwhile, Zorayas was dormant inside his tunic, its presence reduced to almost nothing and its body flattened enough to make it seem like there was just a bend in his tunic. The critter was a bit scared in this new environment, probably.
Colourful individuals passed and they were left with an armed entourage and a guide to keep them leashed for the time being, “Hey,” he whispered to Maura “Isn’t governor something like 省长, kind of like your title on that island?” he kept his eyes on his guide, careful to not blurt out his very accented ReTanese too loudly, “And that Wu Long guy, his titles sounded like some Pentad names we learned in our fir-” then an interruption.
Abdel reached out with the gift in an attempt to find out what was going on without really thinking of the consequences of being a little too inquisitive. Not that any of them knew he was Tethered. The young Virangish smiled at captain Zhu, “望岗,” he hummed a moment as he tried to form a somewhat coherent sentence, “就像街上的大动物?” he spoke with as much of an accent as the guard did in Avincian - an attempt to show as much effort as he did toward them. Locals liked that, he had learned.
"I just looking for someone." "Wánggǎng." "Like a big animal in the street?"
Altogether, they stepped into a faraway land most had never seen, but a few have, and even some could find familiarity in. The smell of wet soil predominated over the bright, grey glare of light coming from the covered skies. Then their feet felt cold, wet and bogged down by the mud beneath. A drizzle greeted the group in what was once a dirt path passing through thick wood, now an accumulation of puddles that didn’t properly empty into the gutters, although they also seemed quite full too. The winds were, surprisingly, not too strong.
The common yew trees did little to help against the downpour, if anything the dangling parasitic vines and plants added to the wet hazards the group had to deal with, but the frequent birch trees offered some solace to those unequipped. The group could choose to deal with the abundantly wet path, or stick to the trees for better cover, although puddles and mud traps were to be expected regardless.
The Stresian months and the first major rainfalls ushered in the awakening of new or slumbering life. There were many plants that began their life cycles during this season, with some of the most notable being pitcher plants of various sizes, and even more notable among them were considerably larger carnivorous flora - big enough that one could believe it’d downright swallow an infant if it could. Most had vivid colours and a pleasant scent, likely as lures for prey. What was even more noticeable than flowers, however, were mushrooms. Yes, with such a damp environment, it’d be no surprise that the group could come by many, with quite a couple of large ones standing out: A flat, gold-brown with white sides that grew in patches near trees with some getting as big as dinner plates, and then were were beautiful, red fungi with white-gold sunburst patterns on them. The latter type wasn’t nearly as big as the first one, but certainly outdid all the more commonly seen plants.
Clinging to a birch tree’s bark was a squirrel with its cheeks filled with something, rapidly shifting its attention in multiple directions as it heard the approaching travellers coming. Its big, fluffy tail inflated a little and its cheeks tightened. Then, a few stirs from a nearby puddle had it quickly rush up to the tree. The thunder didn’t instil its flight response as much as what emerged from the puddle: A salamander! It lazily emerged from the puddle, still covered in a thick coat of mud and mucus and just floated there, staring at the visitors with its wide, black eyes. They didn’t just emerge from water, as Qasem, the man likely the least in his element, would find out. Right by his foot emerged a young one, very much harmless attempting to slap his ankle with its underdeveloped tail while keeping its mouth agape as if it was shouting. Some of the Yasoi could maybe feel a little more at home here.
It was, overall, a peaceful trip through a path leading ever so slowly toward Mandelein. About an hour in, and they could see through the rain-induced fog signs of civilization on the horizon. They were getting close! And with such good news came a bellowing, distorted roar that reverberated through the trees, best described as inhuman and almost even unnatural. There was nothing of note in their drawing range, however, and nothing else like it occurred afterwards.
They would also encounter a very familiar animal at the distance: A human. A mere shadow at this current distance and out of drawing range for non-tethered. Just as they would notice it, the figure waved at them in what looked to be a friendly manner. They knew the group was there. And behind that figure were two more silhouettes. As they came closer, their features were more distinguishable, with all of them wearing rain cloaks, although one seemed content with a simple tricorn hat.
“Hast du dich Verlaufen, alter?”
The voice of a woman called for them as she waved once more. She was close enough for them to notice her face through the rainfall. She stopped about thirty metres away from them, one hand on her hip and the other rubbing her chin. The dark haired woman was studying them, taking particular interest in the Yasoi and the Darhannic. She grinned. The other two, one man and one woman, looked toward her, as if waiting for her to say something.
“You lost, friend?” she inquired with a thick Kerreman accent.
And at that moment, they could sense presences entering their ranges: Three from where these strangers came from, three behind the group, and one closing in from each side. They were all running into position, while the three that showed themselves stood in the way, “Fünf Affen, ein Wüstenaffe, eine Nonne und drei andere.” she tilted her head to address the man behind her with a scarf over his mouth and nose, “Was denkst du?” the man took no more than a few seconds to size up the group, “Nicht von hier. Auch nicht mit ihnen.” he answered, to which the ringleader chuckled.
The group could see the converging individuals ready themselves, some at range with what were likely rifles, some others were closing in still, “Gut, gut.” she nodded and drew her sabre - quite the beauty, definitely beyond her birth right, especially compared to the flintlock on her off-hand or the muddied and ratty clothing all of them were wearing - and waved the tip toward the Dorothea's direction, paying particular attention to that illustrious crown of her's, “Welcome to Kerremand! Welcome to Mandelein, where there is only one rule ...” she articulated that one well, as if she had rehearsed it many times before. The tricorn-wearing man drew his own, shoddy rifle and the girl a rusted cleaver. If it wasn’t obvious already, this was an ambush.
“Hand over your shit, or we will fuck you up.”
Welcome to Castle Mandelein! As always, if there are any questions, my DM's are always open, or you can ask on the discord group.
Currently, the opportunities are: -It's definitely raining hard with brief thunder from time to time, hindering visibility and mobility. Remember that! -Do you do anything during the hour walk through the Mandelein path? Gather some plants? Interact with some animals? Roll in the mud? Every action can have consequences, so feel free to consult me if you're trying to investigate things! -The roar wasn't trackable in their position, and it really did sound distorted even for something akin to a dragon. -You've been ambushed by Highwaymen! They've got you pincered with clear knowledge on how to play around average mage range. What do you do? You are ten, and they are about eleven with crappy hear, barring the ringleader's rapier. You could surrender your thing, flee or beat up this welcome party.
The decision the groups make will reflect on the fight or outcome we can play out. We can set a date to play it out, or have it be a thing that takes place during the whole cycle.
The deadline for this cycle is: Monday, March 27th. The earlier you post, the faster I'll update! And the easier it is for me.
The antics of Shune-Zept ranged from underwater sharks and skeletons to curious dragons falling from the sky, all of which seeming to occur in some peculiar other world.
The sharks laughed - an act that would not seemed to have made sense on a number of levels - and people began to either thrive or suffocate, but all found their own solutions. The skeleton grinned. "Well done!" Then, they were standing in some sort of large room of pure white. "You all kept your cool!" It was a man in primitive clothing who addressed them now. "I don't let just anyone in here, you know." The other two gods regarded him dimly. "This is the Chamber of Time and Space," he announced, voice booming. He spread his arms grandly and was suddenly dressed in an emperor's finery.
The students and their... chaperones stood on a raised circular stone platform, glowing with white light in a sunlike symbol. In each of the cardinal and ordinal directions lay an orb on a small dais, somewhat similar to those that had been in the basement of the Forked Tower. Only, they all rested in front of their own window and beyond was only mist and darkness. They came in an expanded variety of colours, including one that seemed to emanate not a glow, but a darkness. It was... otherworldly to look at.
"Thank you for the theatrics, Zept," harrumphed Ahn-Shune, instantly drying all of the others off with a quick arcane spell. There was, as well, an hourglass. It flipped itself over with the flick of her finger. "Now, we shall remain here until that runs out. Any question that you ask, we will answer. Five minutes remain."
With no more water breathing necessary, Nibbler landed back onto Zarina's shoulder. They were now in a bizarre room where time flowed differently. Time passed twice as slowly, and so their Forked Tower time could essentially be doubled.
The Virangish teen stretched her arms and sat on the white floor, one arm over her knee and the other's digits drumming over the opposite thigh, “Must we ask our questions out loud for others to hear? Or do we also get the luxury of some privacy?”
Shune-Zept's smile was almost... predatory. "Knowledge is best when it is not buried," he replied, grin almost... sadistic. He suddenly seemed a good deal more... formidable than he had before, even though the group was technically safer.
Zarina sneered at that response and shook her head, “Alright, fine.” her nostrils flared. She took a moment to ponder her question, but eventually it was posed, “Ahn-Dami mentioned the nature of the Ice King. What is he, if not like you?”
"Why, the living avatar of something... far more ancient and inscrutable," replied Ahn-Shune. "Worshipped by many as a god, he is not, in the truest sense. You might call him Vashdal."
Not a God?!
What was this trickery? A trial? A farce? First, the Gods casually graced some kids with immense insight and spoke like mere mortals, and now they besmirch the entirety of the Darhannic faith?! All of it made Zarina clench her jaw, with various, extremely negative thoughts plaguing her mind. Anger and loss being at the forefront.
“If not a God, then what is he?” he managed to form a sentence without any sort of stuttering. Her fists trembled and her glare was venomous.
The gods were not foolish. They could sense her anger. They were not weak either. "Ask and you shall receive!" boomed the voice of Ahn-Dami. She seemed to grow larger as her wings spread. They turned black and darkness seemed to emanate from them. "We speak only truth," hissed Shune-Zept, taking on a blazing white serpentine form that was nearly blinding to regard. "You sought and now you have found."
Ahn-Shune crossed her arms. Issuing from her now were a dozen chained books, as if they were tentacles emerging from her form. Two of them clapped shut as she spoke. "The being to which you refer is a primordial one, not alive in the sense that we would understand. It is Vashdal. It is the all-Knower. It is the deity paramount of many a faith. You will watch your tone, child."
The wrath of the Gods was a terrifying thing. Zarina did not even attempt to feign courage. Immediately, she prostrated herself the moment she could fathom the forms of both Ahn-Dami and Shune-Zept. Forehead to the floor, with her platinum Hexaic pendant hitting the flooring as well, she mumbled for forgiveness, eyes closed. Then came the enlightenment. Vashdal being ... Beyond what she or anyone else could have conceived on their own. The scale of which they spoke of him terrified Zarina. And in a sense, re-assured her too.
Eventually, she sat herself back down, head lowered and legs crossed, “... Why does he walk among us? What is this Justice he obsesses over?”
The gods glanced among themselves and an uneasy silence built. Sand filtered through the waist of the hourglass. "In truth," Ahn-Shune admitted awkwardly, "we do not know."
"But we have learned that... he has a plan. He is... evaluating. This 'justice' is a part of his evaluation."
"He is mighty," added Ahn-Dami, "but like a child in some ways, learning when he walks among you." Her voice grew softer. "Educate him well."
That was intimidating to hear. Humbling, even. And yet it made a painful amount of sense. Zarina pursed her lips and swallowed, recalling every interaction she's had with that frosty being. And with more added by answering Ingrid's question, a small ambition grew bigger within Zarina.
However, there was something else she needed to know. About her and the potential devastation she had brought to the world.
“What is 'Heart?' The one that slept in old Zaqhoria?” she blurted out in a hurry.
"Heart is an ancient being," began Ahn-Shune.
"Ancient and grand," agreed Ahn-Dami.
"I've known her for a while," added Shune-Zept. "She's only a threat if -"
Then, amid the thanks of others, the three gods disappeared. Their artifacts pulsed eleven times and went still and silent, though now with a faint glow.
Steam was expelled from Zarina's nostrils, “Fuck.” a bit of teeth gritting and temple rubbing later, she stood up, “I'm surprised you two didn't have any other questions.” she regarded both Jocasta and Ingrid, arms crossed and lips pursed. Her last question made the meaning behind her words clear enough.
The Gods were mere people with too much power. The great Vashdal some demystified frosty entity that walked among men with the powers of a God, but not an actual God.
Blood stained Zarina’s hands and now she was to be wrangled by the one she considered a close friend, and yet was the most cautious of.
What she saw through the eyes of the giver of choice was both glorious and terrifying. An empire reaching its apotheosis. Whether it’d be her coffee business, or a violent uprising spearheaded by that monster she and her friends unleashed. With Zarina standing complicit in both.
All of this was enough to be content with their own misery and permanently withdraw without having to put effort outside of their own little bubble. While Zarina Al-Nader did withdraw into herself, the home and relations she had cultivated prevented the easy way to be taken. No, she had far too many things that mattered in her life, like the blue Monkeybird nestling on her lap as she worked on number crunching. There were so many creatures she had given a home to and looked up to her for care.
And then there were her friends. Ayla, Yuliya, Yalen, Kaspar, Jocasta, Marceline, Maura, the Tethered and even her own sister Ysilla. They mattered too much to just sideline, and they wouldn’t let her get away with it. To reconcile all of these with a need to keep herself in a den for most of the day, Zarina purchased a home almost on a whim - although her knowledge of markets had grown enough to make one wonder if she did this all on purpose.
A comfortable home with multiple bedrooms, stables, spacious rooms, etc. Everything one would need for a menagerie and to live with multiple people. As well as a backyard with plenty of open fields and a barn, made by Abdel as part of his renovation project, that housed Zarina’s growing dragons. As she went to feed them and cleaned their den, she’d find a note like so many others have. An invitation to the Forked Tower, not all too dissimilar to something that happened a year ago …
With a few of her friends, she set off on Riesco, clad in her platinum armour with only her helm removed and her main weapon locked onto Riesco’s plated saddle.
After a set of games more complex than the first one by Hugo and the group being divided, they would all end up in Zenith Upta’s chamber. A briefing had the summoned group split into two groups, with Zazzy’s being composed of: Jocasta, Marceline, Isabella, Ayla and a temporary Yalen. The details were vague and the undertones of the Refuge being in potential danger prompted pessimism from Zarina, but she kept it to herself, opting to instead offer a comforting hand to Marci in her time of worry.
As they stepped into the portal, there wouldn’t be a Royal Sand Wyrm to greet them like before. No, instead there were Froabases hovering the land as if surveying it. Intimidating to some, but for Zarina and like the others that had been here before they were very recognizable. Enemies turned tamed guards of the territory with the Alpha female roosting on a small plateau near the Refuge itself.
Once in the Refuge and the animals parked with the dromedaries, they would be greeted with curious ‘eyes’ of the residents. All drawing to get a view of the newcomers, a good majority of which was recognized by the little denizens. Zarina mustered a chuckle in response to Jocasta’s remark on the snooping.
They congregated in the warden’s quarters, only to be greeted not by Manuel Escarre, but the daughter Escarra - Amanda. Alive and her body functioning beyond what was normal of a Tethered. It was as Zarina’s friends said, the white aberrations worked and practically brought Amanda from death. Nibbler hopped off Zaz’s pauldron to explore the warden’s desk and take a few sniffs from Amanda. Zarina expected the worst, and it seemed fate wasn't going to be cruel to them today. She smiled briefly at this reunion.
“Ruins of old Zaqhoria.” Zarina spoke up once Amanda had briefed them and instructed them on their roles, “We’ve seen this before.” her eyes purposefully shot glances at both Jocasta and Ayla. The armoured Virangish crossed her arms in metallic clangs, “And I will warn you all again: Nothing but death awaits in these ruins. Expect only horror in lands where the dead cannot truly find rest.” she solemnly warned, “Not just to the trespassers, but as the words of old say, to the whole world.” she did not need to say more. They had seen the undead, the emaciated bloodsuckers and the monster that cursed Zarina.
Still, as final as her words appeared, she continued after a sigh, “But your father probably knows this better than anyone else. So, if he thought it wise to take the risk …” the Al-Nader gritted her teeth, clearly hesitant, “We may as well be the ones to go there. However-” her tone rose significantly, “I fully endorse condemning such ruins when we're done.” they’ve already let one monster out.
“Who do you want here, right now? Ayla and Jo’ are best suited to come along to the ruins.”
by Stefano Deltori, Head Editor in the Innovators’ Exchange Zales 15th, DZ54
The Innovators’ Exchange is excited to present this year’s final monthly report on business-related activities from students of Ersand’Enise School of Thaumaturgy and the externalities that may impact the underlined business ventures. As is tradition, the Zales report will present a retrospective of the year, put forward the highlights of the year and their current situation and present our predictions for DZ55.
It has become somewhat of a trend that the beginning of every cohort comes with great potential. However, it is rare that we see this potential shine so bright with promise in the first year! Even as we hit the end of Zales, grand ventures we are keen on analysing are presenting themselves.
Despite this, the start of the school year did not wear such a bright halo. Quite the contrary, expectations of potential trade recessions and wartime economic shifts were all but a guarantee in the author’s opinion, and yet we have no such thing to report on. Although, to cut oneself some slack, a lot of what made this year shine were nigh unpredictable without keen insider knowledge.
Following an extremely heated entrance day that led to massive political fiascos and the assassination of Belzagg’s late Emperor, the grim realities were only exacerbated by the Lorentine Queen Crisis in Dami’s Eye, credited to Traveller agents that have been a big source of uncertainty for large business endeavours. The Northern Seas were also a point of tension with piracy reaching all-time high despite Revidia’s attempts at maritime strangleholds near Segonia with conflict on the horizon.
And of course, let’s not forget Bloody Victendes, leading to the mightiest pillar of Ersand’Enise, Paradigm Hugo Hunghorasz, and the theft of the traditional Victendes (odd pattern, if you ask me!) auction that had never been recovered. All of which culminated in sky-high tensions with the Workmans’ Quarter and the rest of the city. And yet, here we are today with flourishing businesses and high hopes for the future.
With the Trials passing without a hitch (for the most part), it was a relief to many that the summit of world leaders concluded with a cooling of the current Perrench-Revidian conflict, and essentially diffusing powder kegs scattered throughout the Twin Continents. An unexpected surprise, to be sure, but a welcome one.
Most importantly, the Silk Portal’s opening has catapulted Ersand’Enise from major trade hub to the world’s unavoidable canal to international trade. If one wishes to create something serious on a scale beyond local, the Silk Portal is a must as we’ve underlined in our Ardanes article.
With that, the land had been tilled and made fertile for small, student-made businesses to grow, some of which boomed! We will see how they are doing today and share our hopes for them in the coming years.
You heard right, one of the most successful business ideas of this year simply involves baking a soft bun that can fit a sausage within itself along with a sauce. How is this possible? Well, it isn’t so much the product (although it definitely helped!) as it is the way they’ve approached it. Kaspar Elstrom is credited with the initial idea, but it is with avid Business Investor Ingrid Penderson that the business took flight.
The method they’ve employed is a simple one: They took Zenobucks’ model and applied it accordingly to their own product. Now, hot, meat meals are available on the go and at convenient locations! I must say, the sauce they use is also something to behold and I am definitely not the only one that thinks it. Nothing indicates any potential drop, although we have yet to see any push for expansion from the group. Perhaps they are taking it slow and playing it safe?
You’ve likely seen that green, almost sassy face on a mug somewhere. Indeed, as we’ve covered Zenobucks more than once in our past articles we had been able to get to know both co-founders, Zarina Al-Nader and Marceline Hohenfelter, and get a better understanding of their revolutionary method of providing both a recently scarce delicacy and making it rapidly available to all. To say they haven’t been of consequence would be pure dishonesty.
However, as they’ve grown to hold over twelve employees and opened multiple outlets, a glaring issue has been remarked by quite a few: Where is the girl on the mugs? She was, after all, at least around from time to time to survey the kiosks and greet customers with a flying blueberry dragon or a monkeybird, but now we’ve only had the most deafening of silences. And with that silence came a slight slowdown in their expansion. Does this warrant worry? We don’t think so. Not yet, anyway.
We reached out to Marceline to better understand the situation with Zarina, however no commentary was made. As of now, we can confirm that she has NOT disappeared and is still attending classes on the regular, but it has become impossible to get a hold of her. Even more so as she’s made a play by purchasing a home by the Godsroad, leading the Innovators’ Exchange to speculate on a potential manoeuvre involving Mudville’s changes and the rapid growth of the city as a whole. But we can only speculate.
One thing is for certain, and is applicable to Mcboller too: Competition is VERY easy to generate with this model. It is important to keep one’s A-game at the risk of succumbing to others' ambitious minds. We believe that the key to success in this case is none other than the Supply Chain. He who controls the mightiest and most convenient Logistics rules this market of easy and accessible delights.
Where does Kaempe Ko Milk come from? Eskand, right? How about Sea Goat Milk? Of course, most of it is from Thalakos and the nearby regions!
Well, think again. Miatto has been the primary producer of the creamy and minty dairy goodness to the growing and popular enterprises in Ersand’Enise. You have a single clergyman to thank for this: Yalen Castel, Lord of his hometown and despite lacking any sort of business acumen has managed to somehow pierce right through the dairy market. A promising opportunity for Miatto as a whole, but will other producers stand idly and late this neophyte take all the glory?
Initially, I had written off BFA as yet another weaponsmith destined to be swallowed by the Virangish and Perrench State-sanctioned beasts, and it was most certainly going to be the case the moment it would gain any sort of traction. However, the Silk Portal has changed everything and the head of the group, Desmond Catulus, seized an opportunity when Hohg Muhnkalad became available by taking a few steps into a big circle.
With a still unknown accord between the smith and undisclosed Hegelan guilds, wealthier individuals can have Mana-infused gear designed and tailored to them through BFA’s connections and know-how. It is reassuring that a human is providing a grounded perspective for customers still completely blind to the customs of the mountain dwellers. High hopes are placed on BFA should this be the direction the group takes.
Zales has brought in an interesting new dynamic, however. With Mudville undergoing considerable changes after the Moli incident, a new challenger steps into the territory and threatens to shake the foundations of the location. Wages are expected to skyrocket and the population to shift with the recent laws regarding land ownership. Will BFA be able to maintain its model in the near future, or concede to the immense amount of money being poured into Mudville?
While officially still an enigma to most, we have reported last month on the various promotions put forward by the singular Vossoriyan student, Yuliya, and concluded that this would indeed be a fashion brand. Additionally, it was made public of Isabella Lowell’s direct involvement and investment in the group.
A considerable amount of money is flowing into this project with job offers already being made to defeat all other wages available to the average Mudville denizen. This is a phenomenon we haven’t yet seen … Anywhere! But we predict an inevitable shift in the existing population, as the existing one will likely be unable to afford the new prices that’ll come with the wage increases. Additionally, it’ll attract more business seeking to capitalise on these virgin grounds. That is to say if the population accepts or lets all of this happen. My money is on, well, the money. From Revidia to Vossriya and back to Perrence, big investors are keen on making this work.
As of now, a raffle is currently underway for Ersand’Enise’s very first Iceberg Party to inaugurate the opening of Pelova Fascino. Make sure to sign up, it is said to be a once in a lifetime experience! And, of course, this humble author must report on it, integrity of our press and all …
The small businesswoman who could, making a name for herself among the established fleets that bloated themselves on the powdered gold. Ingrid Penderson has managed to defy the odds and not only withstand the wave of piracy that has plagued the last decade but also established her niche through networking.
Still, with the advent of portal commerce and accessibility to Callanast made available to some of her peers, it is interesting to see how Ingrid’s Logistics plan will survive the test of time now that we’re seeing a dramatic shift in means of transport and ease of travel through ReTan. Considering Lady Penderson’s inclination to dip herself in many different businesses, she has wisely put her eggs in other baskets. This author hopes that her business acumen remains consistent!
For those aware of Torragonese politics and old names, it’d come as a surprise to see these two names so close together in a business venture. And yet here we are. With Maura Mercador’s acquisition of Longwan, a small island in the middle of the international trading lines, and a sub-maritime vessel, she has capitalised on an opportunity to take international trade by storm with the help of Arslan money and political backing. Indeed, with recent changes in the Torragonese’s monarchy, the Arslan clan fully secured its hold on the economic capital and holds the perfect position to back such an ambitious project.
Still, the Silk Portal remains an omnipresent competitor that bypasses the challenges of travel, but one can also consider the magnitude of goods passing through constantly in this trade route the Arslan-Mercador alliance is trying to build. Besides, nothing stipulates they cannot utilise both means and essentially secure both ‘routes’ according to convenience and urgency.
As of now, the foundations have been laid down but there haven’t been genuine results as of yet, leaving us to withhold on reaching predictions. Although we still ask ourselves if Longwan can be maintained with such traffic planned to go through it? Considerable investment in security and infrastructure is to be considered and perhaps far earlier than they may realize.
The inevitable counterpart to such a massive endeavour. If one side finds such a goldmine, the other will attempt to mirror it rather than innovate. It is, after all, far easier and at the very least ensures this Perrench-owned group keeps up with the Torragonese. Built by de Perpignan alumni (currently in the Tan-Zeno Program), we have yet to see how they intend to match up to the Arslan-Mercador effort. Although some sources speculate there might be some coordination between the groups when it comes to Longwan’s strategic positioning and use.
Looking for someone you’ve lost? Trying to reconnect with an old flame? Want a criminal found?
Look no further than Abdel Varga, independent investigator and bounty hunter for petty criminals. He is impossible to miss with his two Skuggvars he drags around when on the prowl (Yes, they do bite). All of his business has been with the Century, however he has informed us when we reached out that he is indeed taking individual jobs as well. Don’t let his age fool you, as he’s one of the scholarship holders of the Tethered Refuge, the same place the entrepreneur Isabelle Lowell hails from. Many golden eggs to be found there to be sure.
Personal portals sanctioned by the school of Ersand’Enise. There is nothing more to say - it’s the most convenient means of travel you’ll ever find. The pricing, however, is considerable. Additionally, it is not a truly independent business, being essentially the school’s operation. But, let’s not forget that she was the one to start it from scratch! Always worth a check if you are in a hurry to go to the other side of the world.
Fellow readers, we finally reach the end of the year, and with that the end of this exciting chapter for the Innovators’ Exchange. With the never-before-seen changes we’ve witnessed and the considerable externalities to consider, we will offer a brief listing of our predictions regarding world economics and the student business in Ersand’Enise:
Mudville will experience a massive shift in demographics, potentially leading to unrest.
The Traveller will become a more virulent obstacle for growing businesses, especially those interacting with common folks.
Traditional trade will become more limited as portals develop. Piracy will consequently dip in activity.
Many competitors will imitate the new methods we are seeing, from means of selling to optimising trade routes.
The risk of war will emerge later in the year, limiting aggressive pushes to grow and forcing businesses to recoil in anticipation.
A shift in worker treatment and prices following social pushes from Traveller-related groups and resentful citizens ousted due to, what we’ve dubbed, “Gentrification” (such as with Mudville).
Location: Borderwood - Ersand’Enise Day of the week: Victendes Time: 1:XX HE Characters: Abdel, Young Female Target, Dayanara, Qadira
“Good work, Qadira.”
Abdel tossed a piece of meat toward the maw of a large, reptilian creature which the snout already met his neck. The adolescent Skuggvar’s muzzle was opened for this brief reward and closed right after the creature had swiftly caught the portion of venison. It munched away while its twin sibling looked at the tall tanned boy expectantly, “You too, Dayanara.” and as he took out the treat, the animal nearly lunged at the naive little master, ready to aggressively snatch it off him.
And then it froze, its clawed paw mid-motion as if it had been literally frozen. Abdel adamantly glared at the animal, “No!” he pointed right between her eyes as it was forced into her underbelly, “That’s a no-no.” and now it was deprived of its treat as punishment while the sister gleefully swallowed the chunky, raw steak.
Abdel sighed and turned to the young woman with her arms bound behind her. She was a dirty blonde, wore tethered grey clothes with a light cut on her forearm and had her once scornful glare turn into a wide-eyed look of pure anxiety as she saw the beasts get handed. “Can you walk? I don’t think it’s a good idea that I have one of them carry you.” he asked, not looking too confident himself, “Y-yes.” she nodded as Abdel rested his hand over her shoulder and began escorting her out of the hideout she had been found in the Borderwood. “Good! I’ll say you cooperated. Might help with the sentencing, I think.”
The perpetrator, wanted for connections with some Traveller-related activity, was delivered to the Century, and in turn Abdel was graced with 15 Magi for his efforts - part of which was subsidised by more than just the school and the Century. Not that he knew or cared, for he had finally gotten his first paycheck!
“Look at that!” the lanky teen shook the pouch of coins before his two massive hunters. They hardly paid any attention, but they obediently followed him without even a leash tied to them (although they did have a bridle connected to their muzzles), “Now …” he counted on his fingers, “You girls get about five for food this month …” she pursed his lips and then nodded happily, “About four for me. Leaves me with six to do whatever in the month!” he kept speaking to the beasts even as they hardly reacted, raising his arms up in celebration.
Before he returned home, he stopped by a florist. Being the rough young lad, his tastes for the delicate and beautiful were not very refined. And so, he opted for the Red Rose. A nice bouquet for less than three incantors, with an added blue one in the centre. He hummed to himself on his way back with infrequent abdominal hissing from the beasts behind him.
"Hey bitch," said Jocasta with a smirk, "we've got a puzzle to solve. Put down the books and stop being boring."
“Hey cunt.” she replied upon smacking her book closed. It looked like the Air Threshers would have to wait, “I suck at puzzles. Can I, like, make background music?” she stood up and offered her hand before the inevitable 'Hand!'
Instead, Jocasta started snapping her fingers. "Rhythm, bruja." She bobbed her head from side to side. She glanced at Yuliya as well, almost expectantly.
A very low effort beat from the bottom of her throat came with similar bobbing of her head, except forward and back, “Unce, unce, unce.”
"And you, babushka?" Jocasta teased.
Yuli began humming a tune to match, proceeding to dance to the others. The puzzle had proved an ample warmup for the moves she was pulling out. She didn't even give herself a chance to be offended by Jocasta's remark, enjoying the banter a lil too much.
Then, just as they'd started getting into it, Jocasta stopped snapping. Her face went deadpan. "Hand." she called, holding both of hers out and drawing with a mighty 'whoosh!'
“Weee.”
Just like that they found themselves standing - or sitting - in the cellar, just in front of the statue of Lilith the Redeemed. "Okay," said Jocasta, "So, what do we know so far?" She was all business now, looking to Yuliya.
What followed was a set of puzzles that challenged knowledge of colours and timing. They nearly failed it - the great minds of the future almost missed out on greatness by confusing colour combinations. Ultimately they did, and after a grand lightshow in the dark, the heavy steel door to the sub-basement opened with a poorly-oiled groan. From it emerged a woman.
Only, she was … not quite human. A blindfold covered her eyes. Great, angel-like wings sprouted from her back. ”Not perfect,” she judged, ”but good enough.” Even though they could not see her eyes, she looked them over. "The last group solved it too," she admitted, "but you have to go back nearly a century to find another."
Zarina flinches at the sight of the 'Angel' that has joined them. She very carefully hops off her improvised seat and just looks up and stared impolitely, focused on the wings in particular, “I guess, uh,” she shrugs, “Colors are hard.” she answers with very little thought. “Are you -” she nudges her chin toward the general direction of the angel, “Lilith?”
"Oh, I've been called that before, yes." She nodded and smiled.
Many proddings were made by the group to figure out this one’s identity, although interest is brought to her blindfolded eyes, “Can we see your eyes?” Zarina casually asks, and then smiles broadly like the Angel, “How are you, by the way?”
"I am rarely depicted with them shown," she admitted, slightly awkward for a moment. "They may prove frightening, I warn you." She smiled back. "Otherwise, I am quite well, though worried about some of the poor decisions I have witnessed of late." She shrugged. "People do have their free will, though, and that is sacred," she concluded. "Do you still wish to look upon my eyes?"
“I do.” answers Zarina, dropping the grin for a more deadpan look. She braces herself. Nibbler is invited into her arms to hide his innocent eyes.
"Very well, brave one," the angel-like figure said. She reached up, removed the blindfold, and wrapped it around her hand. When she opened her eyes, Kaspar, Jocasta, Yuliya, and Zarina beheld horror and wonder in equal measures. In her eyes they bore witness to everything that they had seen and everything that they would ever see. They knew their own deepest truths, their beginnings, and their endings. They were filled with the sense that these were both immutable and - paradoxically - were not. Also, they learned the figure's name, though it was Ingrid who spoke it first. The goddess nodded and smiled. "That is what many call me," she replied. "Though I have known many mortal names as well."
She looked to Zarina. "You met my eyes most unflinchingly," she said in admiration, "so I shall grace you with one extra piece of information. My dear sister, Ahn-Shune, is also among you, though she has sadly not been summoned to this place."
Zarina, along with her comrades, were all graced with a glorious flash of things Zarina did not have the intelligence to truly articulate. Never had she been more frightened, yet she also felt fully in control. Like everything was as it should be. “I see.” she mumbled, “No really, I see. Wow.” she shook her head, and then looked up at the Angel, now named Ahn-Dami.
Her gaze, still unflinching, met the veiled eyes of the divine being once more, “You walk as mortals, on this world.” she started, clenching with her free hand a mysterious, oddly cold coin she had been keeping on her, “Did one of you walk among us during the trials?”
"I am glad that my gift... or curse has proven useful to you," the goddess replied. Then, her face grew serious. "The one who walked among you during the trials was like us in some ways, but not of us."
Zarina furrowed her eyebrows, uncertain of what to make of it. The coin in her hand slid between her fingers, and the Goddess could undoutably tell who she was talking about with that trinket in hand, “I see.” she mumbled, before turning her attention to Jocasta. Zazzy sighed and approached the distressed girl. Nibbler was u n l e a s h e d for emotional support on the Tethered's lap.
And then, Zarina froze. Wait. These were actual Gods. This was no fever dream.
The confidence she had shown thus far was characteristic of her, but meeting a God was … Not the norm.
Zarina fell to her knees, and bowed in prostration.
“Forgive me.” cold sweats dripped from her forehead and hit the flooring as she prostrated herself, “I should not have been so familiar, Great One.”
"Truly spoken, peon. You have been spared eternal damnation, this day, solely on the back of your apology and appropriate groveling before my divine radiance and might." Ahn-Dami regarded them all, unamused. "KNEEL!" she demanded of those present.
Then, the goddess laughed and it was a pleasant and surprisingly normal sound. "I was once a person, not so different from you. So long as you are not unjust, you should not fear me. Now..." she trailed off and smiled. "Your business, oh how wonderful it shall be."
Zarina's heart was racing. Oh how close they were to a fate worse than death. She was happy to have saved her friends. Hell, even saving Trypano. Deep down, in this abyss of fear and anxiety she felt happiness in this terror.
And then came the punchline. Eyes wide, mouth slightly agape, she didn't emerge from her humble position until a good moment later. This Goddess, she spoke like a person. Like a less saucy Zarina. Or maybe saucier. It was hard to tell.
Zazzy stood, red-cheeked and clearly embarrassed, “I must admit ... A God speaking so familiarly to us mortal feels uh-” her gaze was avoidant, but she eventually fixated the wings. The oh so pretty wings, “Very weird.”
Zeno Bucks was to be wonderful, though?! Zaz blinked and continued her turbulent train of thoughts, “But weird in a goooood way. ZeeBee is actually gonna kick ass? Really?” she pumps her fist to hip level, “PLEASE tell me it doesn't get bought by the Prenchies. PLEAAASE!”
Ahn-Dami grinned. "Oh yes. It is a roaring success," she assured the girl. "As for the Perrench? I believe, for once, I shall withhold." She smiled only the slightest bit.
Then, the proposition of both the book of Ahn-Shune and the Lantern of Shune-Zept came to be, encouraged by Ahn-Dami.
The Lantern made contact with the book. Then, they were pushed apart. From the book sprung... another woman. She was plump, bespectacled, and properly dressed. She took a moment to beat some dust from her clothing. Then, she reached down and picked up the book, straightening to look about. She paused when her eyes took in Ahn-Dami. "Ah, sister," she acknowledged. "Yes. I had been looking forward to this meeting." She cleared her throat and regarded the students. "Yes, I am Ahn-Shune," she remarked slightly awkwardly. "This is my sister: Ahn-Dami." She blinked. "Yes, we are your... gods, I suppose. Thank you for bringing us together. It has been some time since we both walked among mortals in tandem." She took a moment to adjust her glasses and tucked the book under one arm, knitting her hands before her. "Now, I imagine you might have questions." She swallowed and smiled, regarding them all evenly enough.
"Shune, you are absurd," chided Dami, shaking her head. "Embrace me, sister."
The second goddess looked mortified. "But they're..."
"Yes, mortals." Dami rolled her eyes. "So were we."
"It's... positively unbecoming!" Shune protested.
"Yes, yes. Lodge a complaint, will you." Ahn-Shune was taken from the side, whether she was prepared for it or not, and turned. "Come now." It was but a small embrace: nothing melodramatic, demonstrative, or particularly embarrassing. Both turned to face the students. "My apologies for the interruption," Ahn-Shune quickly resolved, clearing her throat.
"Sister,” asked Ahn-Dami, and Ahn Shune twisted.
"Yes, sister?"
"Is Shune-Zept going to be making an appearance?"
Ahn-Shune waved dismissively. "I suppose he'll do whatever it is that he does." She shrugged, "So, who knows, really?"
First instinct: More prostration.
But the whole interaction was human. Maybe too human for someone who had grown to worship these beings on the daily. It was like meeting an idol, except way, way more. And they behaved no different than most people barring some supernatural aspects here and there.
It felt like the mystique was disappearing. Zarina felt something deep within her, something bad. Like there may not actually be anything to turn to in a time of need. No great being watching over her in the darkest hours. They were human, or at least started off as such, and retained such humanity.
Still, she humbly bowed to the newcomer Goddess and then addressed her politely, “How are you, Ahn-Shune?”
The goddess furrowed her brow. "I am everything," she answered frankly. "Both supreme and abysmal at once." There was a tight smile. "We exist across time and space, so one might imagine that this sort of question lacks a simple response." She tilted her head. "How are you, Zarina Al-Nader? Of course," she admitted, eyes narrowing keenly and a light smile resting upon her lips, "I already know."
And then, all of sudden, they were falling with a massive dragon falling with them and sipping on some tea.
It smiled widely and its smile grew impossibly large. "What is your terminal velocity!!!???" it demanded. "Is it the same as my terminal velocity!!!???"
Deep in the hours of Dami was when the festivities really flared with excitement and wonder. Nox Arcanum was reaching its peak with the five moons lighting the otherwise clear, black sky. Many were still feasting, others were dancing to the unending tunes played by bards from all around the world, some even did both! There were a few, however, that found time to spend this once-a-year opportunity to Ersand’Enise without any particular engagement to their duties to spend time with one, or even many, close to the heart. It was beautiful, in a way, that one had to wear an actual mask to be seen for who they actually are.
A pair of dragons had made a nest for themselves for two decades now - a ruined shack of what was once a hideout for a much older cohort. It had the best view: Slightly elevated, inside the Animal Farm (with all the animals retreated in their barns) and within the small island bordered by the mighty wall of the city and the river delta. They were at peace. The man, with his colourful Royal Froabas mask stood behind his beloved, wearing an equally colourful and draconian mask with shorter horns and a more pronounced golden colouring to the features. Their attires were equally as colourful, perhaps a little too much for any other occasion that wasn’t Nox Arcanum, with a regal air to them befitting the animals they masqueraded as.
Sweet nothings whispered to one another turned into a cold, uneasy silence as the few torches they had lit immediately extinguished themselves, sucked in by a brutish and famished force eager to syphon their own heat. It had just appeared, as if out of nowhere. The moment the female reached out to sense what was so obviously stalking them in the dark, she gasped, “Mi Amor!” she squeaked, clearly frightened. The male Froabas drew his sword from the gold, blue and orange patterned sheath he had resting on a still standing old table and pointed the épée right toward the barely illuminated black mass that stood just thirty metres away from them.
Both drew with the gift. Golden, draconic eyes snapped open and glared at the two less dragons.
They did not smell like a dragon. They did not display the might of a dragon. They were small game, but their drawing gave way to the natural instinct to dominate anything challenging this monster’s dominance. Multiple more of these draconic mockeries emerged to flex their power. The monster was unimpressed.
A loud, blood-curdling scream echoed through the area, easily drowned out by the vacarm of festivities, but easily heard by those unlucky enough to have wandered in the general area. And soon after, screams that were undoubtedly human followed.
By pure coincidence, a pair of knights happened to be patrolling the outer perimeter of the city's majestic walls. They were not the Lamplighters, nor the ordinary city guard. They were not travellers or the bodyguards of a wealthy merchant or nobleman. Bearing the crest of the Holy See on their velvet colored capes, these armored warriors were identifiable as the Century, one of the greatest military arms of the Quentic church. They cantered around the countryside on horseback, watching for any suspicious persons who might attempt to engage in illegal activities while the festival was underway.
This far away from the noise of the festival, it was not difficult for these trained warriors to identify the sound of people crying out for help. One of the Century, identifiable as a captain by the emblem on her pauldron, began speaking to her subordinate.
"Keith, do you sense that?"
"Yes captain. Whatever it is, it ain't human. It's fucking strong too."
"You've got that right. My orders are for you to ride back to the city and bring reinforcements. I'll ride ahead and engage whatever... beast has come to feast on the partygoers."
"Yes ma'am!"
The lower ranked Century sped off, leaving the Century captain to ride alone to meet the enemy... Or was she alone?
Kaspar, it seemed, did not fully understand the purpose of a masquerade mask. He wore one that was deep black metal in the shape of a wolf's face, but his attire practically screamed his name—deep reds with black and gold accents, metallic thread woven in to glint in the torchlight.
He'd strolled away from the crowds for some time, enjoying the night air in quiet solitude. Time had already been spent at the festival, and even here the merry air seemed to carry through to this part of the city. But he was occupied in his thoughts, walking mostly on instinct.
A scream pierced through the silence, snapping the student from his thoughts. He sighed, gentle resignation that his mind was already made up to investigate, to help—and then he was off, cloak streaming out behind him as the boy ran towards the Animal Farm.
There were many a party going on and Ayla was going to be present. Dressed up in Flamenco style dress, adorning herself in black with multiple frills that bounced around her ankles and shins, adorned with little red and black woven butterflies. She places a red mask in the shape of a lion cub on her face as she masquerades as a Torragonese noble through the streets of Ersand’Enise, keeping an eye out for her prospective partner.
She stroked a hand through her hair as the strands wrap around her finger as she sighed out. He was late again, wasn’t he? It was at that moment that she heard a noise, a scream, and soon there was a watchman running into the city, and someone who met Kaspar’s attire description running in that direction. “Where is he running off to now?” She moved to follow where Kaspar was leading.
Desmond had just finished the biggest prank on the higher magical society. They had pulled a heist off, one that had gotten them a fortune, and then they had 'Hugo' come from the grave and scare the hell out of the party goes, taken their magic for a bit of time, made them think what they have done, and then dissappeared.
Now Desmond had moved through the masquerade, stole some things, ate some food, and left it to the Rats to have their fun. He had used his hat, and a few additional items to conceal himself to allow for a proper escape. For once the prank was over, his work was done.
Desmond left the party and shifted into an alley to once more change his appearance. Now he looked more like himself, not like the nobles he mimics, his clothing was different as it was a dark black more formal outfit. Gold accents and a black wolf mask with Gold and red accents.
He checked the time as he looked up to the moons and saw 5 were high, he had some time to kill. Desmond began making his way to his dorm as he picked up some quick things. His pistol, his ammo case, and his powder horn. All set into a small pouch and carried underneath his jacket as it was hidden away once more.
He was planning on meeting with Cal to talk about a few things, so he left to go and make a reservation at the Vermillion Swirl. Yet once he neared he felt an intense pressure. A pressence of something powerful, his head turned as he felt it come from the Animal Farm.
Desmond checked the moons once more and said, "Fuck". As he began to make his way over, now using his new well of power to quickly make his way over. He quicken his travel by reducing the friction his boots would have against the ground, reversing the charge on his boots to repel against the ground, and then used Kinetic energy to propel himself forward at high speeds. Through the use of his lamplighter badge he got through the gates no problem.
Niallus stops walking, hearing that scream, partly drowned out by all the festivities. "What was that?" Looking around to see if anyone else could have heard that, it seems that the bystanders walking past didn't seem to hear it at all.
"That didn't sound good, at all. I probably should investigate." With that he starts moving through the crowd, he was supposed to help Ingrid with what she had planned. Hopefully he'll only be a bit late.
The Man in the dragon mask pulled out a wicked-looking sword and squared up to the dragon. In truth, he was afraid, but it was not in his nature to show fear, and he had faced monsters every bit as fearsome before. "I am glad to see others are brave enough to face this beast down," he said with quiet confidence, glancing over his shoulder at the students. He thrust out his chest and his chin and screamed a challenge: "Vamos! Vamos a la victoria!"
The nun had been stalking her target for some time. Then, a greater threat appeared, menacing the school which she was to be a part of as her order's ordained representative here. She quickly made the sign of the Pentad, took five deep, calming breaths, fading into the comforting nothingness of the space between worlds: a land of outlines and echoes. Then, she rushed not away from the danger, but towards it.
A couple of bodies were left vulgarly on the ground, disfigured and very much dead, three others were at the cusp of death, and one was fighting off whatever obscured force had likely done this horrible act. Just as any onlookers could even intervene, the man with the Froabas mask was doing his best to repulse the large, dark shadow that crept towards him, protecting his masked love that had been viciously slashed on her flank. She clearly couldn’t stand and could only look helplessly at her partner’s desperate struggle.
Alone, he would not have stood a chance - not with his men caught off-guard and his beloved to protect. But the creature took immediate notice of the converging little ants. Little but with the same, rich energy the two false-dragons carried, as well as their worthless minions. The true dragon turned its head to acknowledge the perceived strongest of them: The Century. Its black tail flailed dangerously, threatening the close couple with every whip of the tip.
It took a couple of heavy steps closer, entering the light of the moons to reveal its form to the improvised reinforcements. This “dragon” was unlike anything most of them had seen, although Desmond and Ayla would immediately recognize what this thing was. A tall, 9 feet something draconic being that was easily five times the overall size of a human with exaggeratedly long arms used to balance its form that accommodated for the retracted wings. Its face resembled more a dragon than a human’s with little echoing back to its lost humanity. Its scales were entirely black and its horns were spiral shaped, much like a ram’s, rather than a traditional dragon’s straight or slightly curved. Its tongue was unusually long and its teeth filthy with blood and flesh from the unfortunate victims.
It inhaled, and then unleashed a focused and petrifying shriek whilst violently whipping the ground with its long, limber tail and stomping the earth with its forward knuckles.
A few brace themselves, otherwise take the brunt of the primal rage that fueled the terrifying shriek. Their bodies feel weak and exposed, their limbs briefly involuntarily quivering before the monster standing before them.
A wildblood, then, the nun thought. A draconic one, but it wasn't a type that she was familiar with... Inhuman monster. She steeled herself against its screech, unafraid despite a primal instinct inside of her screaming otherwise. "Eshiran-Zept," she prayed out loud, "Lord of War, fill me strength and resolve, so that I may deliver unto this foul being the comeuppance that it so righteously deserves. Fill these others so that they may know no fear, so that they may stand strong and live. If my time comes to join you in the afterlife, I will go with joy." She began to draw, then, and draw, and draw.
The man in the dragon mask felt his nerve falter for a moment, but it was not for himself, it was for these others: children, most of them but for the century, and even she was young. He had to protect them and his beloved, first and foremost. That was what he would do.
Instead, it went for him, and he was not quite prepared, drawing away as much of its swing's momentum as he could and leaping back. It was not, however, quite enough, and the claws carved up his armour, leaving little but a graze that could've been much worse had he not defended so ably.
In Colette's case, it was not fear that shook her but the sheer NOISE of the creature bellowing at her with all its rage. The sound resonated through her sealed helmet and caused her to suffer a terrible headache, one that would take a minute to recover from. After stumbling for a moment she unclasped her helmet and threw it to the ground in frustration, revealing the face of a grown woman with platinum colored hair. A well hidden scar was just barely visible at the nape of her neck, covered by the collar of her armor and gambeson.
"Sorry kids, give me a minute to... recover." Colette balanced herself shakily on her war hammer and held a hand out towards Sister Laska.
"Hey, Rezaindian, take over the show for now." Laska felt her body grow light, as if the gravity drawing her towards the planet had become... weaker somehow.
Desmond heard the shriek and braced, as it's roar left nothing but a ringing in Desmond's ears. He slipped his arm into his jacket and pulled out his gun. Preparing for the fight, as he drew from his surroundings. Drawing in more and more energy, beyond his own natural capacity, as he drew more and more. The dragon attacked as it was quick and fast as it seemed the dragon masked man was not light enough on his feet and was attacked.
Desmond once more shifted his feet and changed the polarities on them and the friction to allow him to glide on the ground easily.
Niallus managed to resist the dragon’s roar. Then watching how fast it moved to attack the other guy here. Knowing this wouldn't be an easy fight, he draws, ready to fight.
Kaspar's eyes scanned the field, and he noticed the woman behind the sword-wielding man. She didn't seem prepared for this. Out of a feeling of protectiveness, and certainly not the still-lingering fear, he scurried ran towards them, giving a nod to the man. "I can help her," he said, trying to keep the shaking out of his voice as he turned towards her. "I'm a binder," he stated, kneeling and preparing to start healing should she allow him.
From death's doorstep, the woman recovered somewhat, thanks to Kaspar's efforts. "Thank... you," she panted, with a distinct Torragonese accent. She stood weakly, clutching at her side.
Ayla is getting lost in the chaos, the shouting and screaming around her. There is even two Kaspars moving around before her. This is definitely overwhelming.
The Horrifer growls and hops off the ground to ascend just a few metres high, flapping its wings as it charges up atomic energy in its abdomen and mouth, before spitting out an orb of concentrated, blue coloured energy right at Colette's direction. The impact would be big enough to catch both Ayla and Desmond. In the explosion's wake is a cloud full of blue particles and the taste of metal in the air.
Colette coughed, waving an armored hand in front of her face. "Gods that stinks!" She could feel her manas devouring the toxic substance like food, protecting her from whatever poison the beast had directed towards her. She spun her hammer like a centrifuge, blowing away the smoke immediately around her so that she could still see where the enemy was.
Desmond saw the fire begin to build and Desmond dashed off to the side. However it fired much faster than normal, as he was caught by it, as he used his gift to pull in energy and launch himself. He felt the flames however consume his body as it was an intense heat yet through the use of quick kinetic shockwave around him mitigated the rest of the damage. It did however leave a deep tingling in his body before his medallion made a humming and then the tingling dissappeared.
He used chemical magic to right himself as singes covered his body.
Desmond took a stance and aimed for the face of the large draconic beast as he fired, enhancing the bullet with kinetic and magnetic energy and upon the moment of impact he violently added as much energy he could to create a large impact upon the dragon's head to either shut it up, knock it's head back, or shock it.
There is wanton destruction as people far more powerful than her are being knocked away by the monster before them. She recalls back to Zaqhoria, the magic box used to contain that monster, Heart. She fiddled around in her bag as she pulled it out, activating the Sirrahi magic dampening box. She made her way to the beloved, as Kaspar was there tending to her.
“Kaspar, take this. We will take her away from the fight. Only point it at the Monster, it should weaken its magic significantly.” She moved to try to support her, and started to lead her away from the battle.
The dragon tilts its head as swiftly as the bullet dedicated to its head. It eyes Desmond, almost taunting him.
Then, without any build up or telegraph, it descends in speeds almost equal to his own bullets and attempts to pin him down with its massive leg.
Desmond sees the attack come descending down, yet it was faster than he. Yet Niallus was there to assist as he threw in more kinetic energy as they both used kinetic energy to launch him.
Desmond came out of it through a roll as he drew in a quick breath and then breathed out that moment of worry as he used energy to load another bullet into his gun while he began moving again, throwing a thumbs up to Niallus.
Filled with holy fervour, Sister Laska steps forward and calls upon the cold that has always been her ally. She draws with everything that she has from a specific point, right near the beast's core. Dragons are predictable in their vulnerabilities. "Writhe, creature of darkness! Writhe for me, and perish in hellfrost!" She unleashes her ultimate cryomantic spell: Petrification.
The scales are frozen and shatter completely, prompting a screech from the beast. The thick layer fell like glass and shattered just as easily from her tall figure. The being once known as Zarina screamed in fury, its eyes trained on the true threat: The Good Nun.
The excellent use of Laska's cryomancy had the added effect of freezing the air around her, and this included the noxious particles in the air that were beginning to poison her. She was safe from the cloud, but the beast now had a vendetta.
The beast begins to charge, seemingly as mindlessly as it did before, but as it got close to Laska, the dragon vanished!
And then she re-appeared right above Colette in an attempt to crush her.
But the beast wasn't done, just as she was done, she vanished again to Laska's left with a charged atomic blast ready to fire at point-blank range!
Colette saw the beast about to fall onto her, she wasn't ready for it to vanish and appear on tpo of her, as she was slow to the draw.
Yet she felt her body get moved as she slid to the side as she noticed the black and gold dressed and masked man with a black hat seeming to be looking her way as he ran.
She readied her stance and threw a nod to him, a silent thanks.
And it teleports! By Shune! Edyta was not used to this trick, but she was quick enough to draw with everything that she had, scythes whirling about. Thanks to those and a mana shot, she was just about able to do it, leaping back immediately after. Instinct pulled at her, demanding that she disappear into the space between planes. She resisted the impulse... for now.
The man in the Froabas mask wanted nothing more than to skewer this fool who had allowed herself to run rampant in the city as a beast. Yet, there were other priorities. These children were strong, but inexperienced. He found one, wounded, and called upon his schooling as a binder.
Desmond felt his skin heal, his flesh seemed to fix itself as he noticed the dragon mask man seemed to be looking his way. Desmond threw a thumbs to him with his free hand as he quickly flicked back to the threat at hand.
Something was wrong, it couldn't suck in energy as effectively, until it was completely null. The source of this interference was the boy near the shack.
To some's probable surprise, it was still about as fast as it was without the affliction. At fast as he could blink, Kaspar had a massive palm descend upon him.
Kaspar backed away, keeping the box aimed at the dragon to try and dampen it, trying (but failing) to put distance between them. At this range, and holding the box, he didn't feel on the right foot for an attack. But—he could help his companions out. Recalling his time in the Forked Tower, he began pulling energy from the VOID, converting it into energy the others could manage. Warm wind began to swirl around them, loose arcane and kinetic energy gripping onto the air.
The man in the mask goes after the dragon, attempting to force it back from the boy with the sirrahi device. it stood its ground, however, and he found himself utterly unable to affect it.
The dragon was closing in on Kaspar, and seemed pretty pissed. It was swinging down on him hard, and the boy could easily imagine the broken bones and punctured organs coming his way. And then, a quick attack from Niallus put it off its swing, switching its focus towards the other boy just long enough for Kaspar to get out of the way. He saw Niallus get slightly injured, and pinned that in his mind. He'd have to help his classmate out when he got the chance, as thanks for saving him.
"Benevolent Oraff, god of life, give me the strength to protect these innocent souls." Colette offered a prayer to her god as she spun her war hammer overhead, building up centrifugal force as she infused her weapon with the power of lightning and kinesis. Space appeared to warp around her as the air itself became disturbed by the strength and motion of her magic, borne from years of training and experience.
"Taste my fury you monster!" Colette slammed her hammer into the ground, propelling herself into the air in a somersault. She disappeared out of sight as she rose into the air, the darkness of the night obscuring her, then she came down. She came down hard. Her attack was so ferocious that she could hardly aim her strike, and so it went that the Century's hammer fell towards the lower end of the dragon's spine.
Tunnel-visioned into consistently assaulting the one with the box, the dragon paid little to not mind to the threats behind it. This gave Colette the opening she needed to put an end to this mess, and her mighty hammer descended down to smite the wicked black creature. its back was SHATTERED, snapping its pelvic bones and lower spinal area. It fell flat on this abdomen, lungs drained of their air in that very instant, leaving it silent as it laid flat, knocked completely unconscious and with considerable damage to its scales, skin and muscles visible on the small of its back.
It laid there, chest still heaving and its abnormally long tongue set flat onto the ground by its head. Its eyes remained open, although they weren't reactive to any stimuli.
Kaspar kept the box pointed at the creature despite its current unconsciousness. "I might be able to keep it down somewhat with chemical magic. What the fuck is this?" he remarked.
Desmond takes a step forward as he sets his foot onto the neck of the dragon as he aims his gun for its head. "Doesn't matter. It was rampaging. It probably has the taste of the blood of people".
Kaspar approaches, looking down at the eyes. They looked concerningly familiar... But he couldn't quite place where he knew them. "Is there... something that turns people into... pissed-off dragons?" he asked, not sure what his mind was scratching at.
Sister Laska glanced the boy's way. He was a Dark Magic user. Also, a chemical user. Now, he was defending the dragon. "It's called wildblood," she answered shortly, "but I don't much care." She looked at Desmond. "It may have been a person before, but it's a killer now, and innocent people have died by its hand. Justice cries out to be done." She stepped forward and began drawing.
"There was a creature called Heart who transformed into a dragon which looks a little like this one. Desmond saw it too. We were with Zarina, Ingrid, and Jojo." She looked upon the dragon before her, "Why was it even here in the first place?"
Desmond begins to draw knowing what the sister was to do and is to help. He looked to the others talking, "Doesn't matter. It might just be someone like her. And they've done enough".
"Wildblood," Kaspar muttered, thinking. The words were familiar. He half-listened to what Ayla was saying, and then something dug in. Her name. "Zarina," he stated, looking up. She'd read about them in the Tower. That's where he'd seen the word. His crimson eyes snapped to the nun, and he raised his chin, stepping in between her and the wildblood. "She's a student," he stated, eyes daring the girl to move closer.
"I could try and drain its mana, in an attempt to keep it down the only problem I need to suck on its blood. I'm not a sanguinaire, I'm just a special case. No promises that'll just be more pissed if it doesn't work." suggested Niallus.
Desmond stopped drawing and looked to Niallus, "What?".
The look that the nun shot him was truly incredulous.
"Dude, long story that involves myself and a demon fish. I'll explain another time." backpedalled Niallus.
"Are we saying this creature consciously decided to come to a party and attack people?". As she listened to Kaspar, she looked toward it. "It is... Zazzy...?" She moved over toward the dragon as she tried to look upon its face. "Desmond, get off her! It could be Zazzy."
Sister Laska could feel it healing. "If you do not act, I shall," she warned.
"You seem to know about this," Kaspar responded, eyes hard. "How do you help one such afflicted?" He seemed unphased by her warning.
"Does anyone have Temporal magic? We could teleport her out of here to the Torragonese High Desert, far out of the way. Does anyone know where Jojo is? She may know what to do."
Desmond looked to Kaspar and Ayla as he says, "Hold on". As he begins to flood the dragon with chemical energy to try and keep it down while still keeping his foot where it is.
"This could be Zarina?"
It was then that the masked man spoke. "This girl is known to you?" he demanded. "Who is she and where is she from?"
Kaspar glanced to Ayla. He... was not sure whether they should answer. Glancing to Desmond, he said quietly, "Look at the eyes." He stood still where he was, waiting to see who spoke first.
"It could be my best friend, Zarina, if what people are saying. She is usually completely harmless. It must have been during the trials when we were attacked by that monster lady in Torragonese Desert." She stroked upon the dragon's maw as she looked into the golden eyes. "Can you help her? You will have the thanks of the Arslan family."
The man removed the golden mask covering his face. He was King Sancho of Torragon. "I ask you once again, daughter of Arslan, where does your friend hail from? Your king bids you answer."
Sister Laska did not wish to bring more pain into the world, but it was her sworn and sacred duty to wield the wrath of Eshiran as it was meant to be wielded. She could feel the creature that had been a woman healing. She reached inside of it with binding magic and destroyed, keeping it from recovering too quickly. "The best remedy," she replied curtly, "is to put her out of her unnatural state. I grieve for you, but she is as she is. She has shed innocent blood and will do so again."
Kaspar glanced back at the word "king", as if he might recognize the king of Torragon. Unsurprisingly, he didn't, but took a deep breath. Turning back to Sister Laska, he stated, "Did she do this of her own volition? Or will you too shed innocent blood?" His words had an underlying but subtle tone of threat.
"I suppose that will be a great comfort to the bereaved families of those she has killed, dark mage," the nun snarled.
"That more innocent blood was shed?" he retorted, face cold. "You think justice is death with no trial? Execution without understanding?"
Desmond winced as his eyes flicked down onto the dragon and Ayla then to the mask dragon. He continued to fill the dragon with chemical energies, as then it was revealed, a king was in their pressence.
He mentally sighed, 'Fantastic', he held onto his gun still yet this was getting more tense. To shoot or not to.
What comes from any of it.
Ayla looked up and blinked, oh merde. She straightened herself before him. "She is from Virang. Half-Vigrandish and Half-Tourrare. Zarina Al-Nader. She is from a merchant family who trades in horses along the Merapora." She turned to King Sancho, "You are a just man who desires peace. Your speech is inspirational in how our nations should work together and be bigger than ourselves..."
"Sister, stay your hand." Colette stowed her hammer and approached her war-like compatriot with open palms. "Revenge is not the duty we were called to. Do not forget Dami's teachings. Choice is always the cornerstone of justice. I will allow you to try this foolish boy... girl... whoever they are for their crimes, but if you kill them without allowing them to understand the weight of their crimes you will answer to ME."
She punctuated this strong statement by stealing a glance at Kaspar. "I'll deal with you later kid."
"Justice is the preservation of life and flourishing!" Laska whirled on Kaspar. "Justice is the protection of those who may not defend themselves from those who aggress upon them! Eshiran is as much a God as Ipte, you fool!" She tilted her head to the side, trying to cool herself down, and took in Colette as well. "I understand that she is your friend, but I ask you not to be blinded by this. Her acts are undeniably heinous, and she will remain a persistent danger. If we do not put her down, people may die. Would Dami wish that?"
The dragon begins to twitch. Low and guttural clicking sounds can be heard coming from its throat.
And then its golden eye darted toward the one pointing the gun at it. The back, while not fully healed, had suddenly healed much faster than what the nun could reasonably keep up with.
"Be careful when you speak in absolutes, sister. The Traveler would love to have more people like you in her fold." Colette thumbed the handle of her hammer, ready to strike again if need be.
Desmond's eye flicked between each of the people and then to the dragon. He continued to flood the dragon with more energy as he thought, 'Why does this have to be difficult? Why is there politics even with this?! We kill her and be done with it. If this happens all the time, a speedy trial would be the only way, and then it would be like just executing her anyway without a real trial
And in that moment, Desmond saw a flicker from the dragon and a few clicks as he yelled, "MOVE". Desmond jumped back using the dragon as a jumping point.
"And neither Eshiran nor Ipte are The Judge," Kaspar retorted, pulling on what little he knew of the Quentic Faith.
And then the noises started, and he glanced to Zarina, preparing for the worst.
Laska waited not a second longer. "You fools," she grated. She drew every ounce of energy that she could and attempted to petrify the beast's tail and legs.
"You talk about protecting innocents, yet all you talk about is murder. Zazzy would have not chosen to do this, this is not who she is. She needs help."
When the tail begins to freeze, it violently whips toward Laska, threatened her with a strike that could easily maim her if she got any closer.
The grunts were getting louder, with the beast pressing with both its arm-wings to slowly get back up. Most of its spine had regenerated, although discomfort remained. It stood and glared at the congregation of ants gathered around it. It didn't attack yet, instead coiling its wings around itself whilst breathing loudly.
Every once in a while, the gods placed supreme tests before her. Edyta breathed in and out. The beast was coming to and her efforts proved for naught. There was nothing that she could do to stop it. These well-meaning imbeciles would have their way and more innocent blood would be spilled. They were no longer innocents, in her mind. They were accomplices, having chosen a murderous 'friend' over the sacred duty of all followers of the Pentad to preserve life. She only hoped that, should she ever be faced with such a difficult decision in the future, she would choose correctly. Sister Laska looked towards Ayla and shook her head in the most bitter disappointment. She had saved this one earlier, scant thanks she'd received for it though she reminded herself that she did not seek recognition. "I will defend you always," she replied, "wrong though you may be, but not with my own body this time." With that, the Rezaindian disappeared into the space between realms, ready to attack at an opportune moment.
Sancho backed off. "Do not listen to that pompous coward," he announced. "She disgraces her robes. We have held this beast once, even though she surprised us. She now lacks that advantage. We shall hold her again." He began drawing.
Desmond tilted his head to both sides as he popped his neck, "Alright, let's go for round 2".
As Desmond takes up his gun and aims for her head and pulls the trigger. Aiming to put all the energy he had gathered into one violent shot to it to knock it's head around.
"Well said sir. I couldn't agree more." Colette unsheathed her hammer once more and took a fighting stance. "I will lay down my own life as many times as it takes to take responsibility for this mess."
The dragon has one of its horns shot, causing it to stagger slightly and the horn to crack.
Bad move.
The once passive creature now erupts in a cry of pure fury, exploding of fiery energy and repulsing all those near it.
Ayla, Desmond and Kaspar are caught off-guard and repulsed. The first two only get a few scrapes, but Kaspar ends with a piece of wood stabbed into his bicep.
Fueled with immense fury, the Dragon began to aggressively syphon energy, potentially depriving all others from drawing effectively, as her torso began to glow blue. The air got abnormally warm and with every breath taken by the beast, a gust of metallic, hot air blasted through those that weren't repulsed by the eruption of power.
Something big was coming, and some of her scales had since regenerated after being down briefly. They could attempt to stagger her by striking her reinforced abdomen, or try to knock her out in one hit like the Century had done. Or they could brace themselves for the worst.
With how temperatures are running high, she reverts to what she does best, music. Even through various shouts and screams from the beast, it was now Ayla’s time to roar. The songstress starts to sing out toward the dragon named Zarina. Her voice reaches soprano, as if the sound started to emanate from the VOID. For those present at the aberration madness may recognize it for what it is, that otherworldly vibration running through their bodies and their mind with that corrupting VOID noise.
The Dragon just STOPS. It's chest is still FULL of the energy, but it stopped drawing. No long was it poised to unleash pure death to all before it. It just stood there, not all too different from its passive state a few seconds ago, albeit without the bat self-hug. It eyed the others, cautious but unreactive.
"Look at it. It's not moving. So it CAN be stopped..." Colette had her hammer raised to attack, but she hesitated. Colette leaps upwards, easily clearing the massive dragon's height. She grabs ahold of its scales like a horse's reins and digs in, physically and magically. The dragon's brain is flooded with a massive wave of melatonin as the Century attempts to quell the beast's rage for good, while Ayla provides them with the opening to do so.
The Dragon stares down the Century, limited by the otherworldly frequency emitted by Ayla. The overdose of melatonin did a good job in pacifying it, and consequently making it even more sluggish than it already was. But, there it stood with an obscene amount of energy and heat emanating from its body.
Desmond pulls out his bullet pouch as he yells to Colette, "Hey, you should get away!".
Desmond pulled 3 bullets out each that looks like it is covered in silvery metal. He loads 1 into his pistol and throw the other 2 directly at the dragon. As he takes aim with his gun and fires. As all 3 are his Hellfire bullets as he aims to cause a very large explosion on the Dragon.
The explosion is like a massive punch in the gut causing the beast to stumble forward, practically kneeling as its long arms spread open and clench the ground before it. It begins to vomit what looks to be molten mass onto the soil below it, igniting various flora around it without even touching the substance with how hot it was. The creature enters a brief coughing fit before eyeing the group that antagonized it so.
Desmond looks at his gun and inspects it jokingly as he says, "Damn! When'd you hit so hard?"
Desmond is its target. Predictably, it attacks whatever provoked it the most. And with Ayla's hypnosis running its course, the animal was back at it.
The monster ascend, and hurls not one but TWO toxic orbs that were more molten matter than energy, right at Desmond. Like before, they explode upon contact with anything, and leave a particularly noxious cloud of smoke in their wake.
Colette skids in front of the first orb and catches it with her hands. Even with magic protection, the molten matter heats her gauntlets to the point of smoking, and there is a smell of burnt leather. She can't hold it on her own.
“We can do it! We can subdue Zarina and make it to the good ending. Just make sure we do our best not to Frannemas up the situation." Her smile fades and her eyes widen in horror as she just realised who she just made that comment in front of.
For a moment, the king merely glanced her way over his shoulder. He blinked. Then, there was a smirk and a small sound that may have been a chuckle.
Kaspar sees the orb coming for Desmond, and can see that Colette isn't going to stop it on her own. Pulling from his base school, he pulls from the orb, reducing the danger.
Desmond sees the orbs coming and shifts back, as he realized that it seems to have led him a little as he needed to stop the two with kinetic energy. As he saw multiple people come to his aid and the toxic blobs had been sent into the earth as it created clouds of intense toxic smoke.
The smoke sprang up, and Kaspar had no qualms; he'd been far more support in this fight anyway. He stepped back, avoiding an inhale as he left the smoke, the repositioning giving him a slight disadvantage on attacking.
It was a brief flicker. She thought that she saw an opening and faded in from the space between worlds. Nothing visible happened, but there was an attack. Unsatisfactory. Sister Laska would pray and train harder after this.
The monster leered at the creatures that caused it so much grief, it charged in furiously toward those that were by far the worst: Desmond and Colette. First, Colette would get mauled with her arm being bit down and nearly crushed by the dragon's powerful jaw, and essentially destroying her armor.
Upon repulsing the armored Century, it then sets it sights on the magusjaeger and rushes him down. He manages to evade the first flurry of slashes, but ends up dangerously close to getting his neck devoured by the massive maw, until …
The scales are shattered. The dragon recoils back.
After tearing herself free of the dragon's maw, Colette looked at the state of her left gauntlet and determined it would only be a liability now. She drops to her knee and pulls at the deformed plate armor, freeing her fractured arm from its burden. She gasps as a wave of pain shoots up her arm, but she chemically suppresses her agony before rushing back into the fray.
Ayla's use of sound is magnificent and it affects the dragon wildblood convincingly. Then, there's a tear in the fabric of reality.
An ominous black... mist begins to seep out.
What emerges is... an egg.
Its shell opens to reveal a second tier yolk demon.
Niallus looks at the weird egg demon thing. "What the fuck is that?"
Desmond turns to Ayla, "What's that? Did you make the dragon poop an egg?!".
Another strange being, one that irritated the beast far more than normal. It wanted to smash it to bits, but the aggression this demon provoked from the dragon pushed it to taking an extreme approach. Again.
It began to charge like it did before. Torso blue and the area heating up once more.
Kaspar glances to the egg, and hums. He glances at Ayla, feeling a moment of kinship and smiling softly. He'd not planned on summoning a demon with the church-goers around. He'd have to make sure they didn't take issue with her after this, or he'd have to make a... bigger problem to deal with.
Ayla blinked toward the creature, “Arroz con huevo!"
The enormous amount of energy sucked in by the walking nuclear reactor was becoming asphyxiating to even the strongest warriors among those that tried to stop the beast. But their efforts to stop it were for naught, as it wouldn't even stagger this time around. Upon reaching critical mass, it poised itself to attack with its hind legs digging into the earth and its front claws briefly rising up as it inhaled mightily.
Then it fired completely downward, as if it was vomiting a constant stream of blue, liquid-like molten energy. But this time it was immensely concentrated, and the stream progressing into what looked like flames, and then finally a blinding, near-white laz0r of pure energy and oozing of toxic xenon. By merely raising its head, the beam sliced vertically like an unending blade. She then flailed about, shaking her head uncontrollably as if the dragoness couldn't even truly control it. The destruction that followed was something to behold, and the lightshow was very much visible in Ersand'Enise. If not the light, then the wall that would be inevitably destroyed and potential casualties were going to accumulate.
Sister Laska can see what this dragon's aim is, and people will die. She steps into the path of the blast, protecting as she'd promised. The Red Rezaindian siphons off the energy, surviving it and sparing a glance back at the idiots who allowed this to happen.
Desmond sees the laser continue after Sister Laska's defense, he siphoned energy as well and tried to force the dragon's mouth downward to slightly bring it off course away from the wall. As he slides back away from the possible continued line of attack.
Having successfully defended nearly all of the mighty dragon's attacks, the Yolk Demon did something that it had never done before in its entire short life: it cracked a smiled... just a bit of a one, and more like a smirk, naturally.
With a final, grateful little smile and a professional nod towards Niallus for a job well done, the yolk demon pulls into its shell. The egg has now attained Hard-Boiled status.
Kaspar glances around the group, noticing the egg that seemed to be preparing for... something? He concentrated, solidifying the egg's attacking... weapons? hands? with Binding magic, preparing it for a major attack.
The dragon assesses each and every adversary, and easily notices Colette's injuries. She was the biggest throne on its scaly side and needs to be dominated, and then devoured. The once Zarina charges in, attempting to slam the Century into the ground and devour her on the spot with no restraint. It was close too, with Colette failing to react in a timely manner. It looked as though she was a goner, until Laska emerges from the shadow realm and deflected the initial strike from the beast.
It sneers at the frosty scythe wielder before swiping its tail to repulse them.
Then, it feels it. The Egg. All eyes were on the thing.
As death stared Colette in the face, Sister Laska appeared from nowhere, stepping in front of her and drawing the heat and motion of the dragon's flurry of melee attacks. "I attack, Somnian, but I protect as well."
The Egg began to glow.
The sky around it darkened and a foul wind swirled.
Great branches of lightning arced about, flashing and zapping: legs of some immense spider.
Reality itself seemed to waver in the colossal grip of the EGG.
Then, a crack formed within the dragon's scales.
It branched and grew.
The monster's skin splintered and began to slough away.
From it emerged... a woman.
Zarina.
With that, the egg cooled and darkened.
And... darkened some more.
A pulse emanated from it and it rose into the air.
Once again, its shell - now soot black - cracked and opened.
It looked upon them beatifically, and smiled. Its yolk face was now green.
Then, it spoke: "I leave you now, friends, for my life cycle is complete. Do not cry, for - with your help - I have achieved my one true purpose."
"That is to be eaten."
"I leave you, now, with this parting gift."
In the clearing by Zarina's prone form appeared three flawless black eggs.
"Nourish thyself of my fruit and become what I hath defeated with thine assistance."
With that, the PRIMORDIAL EGG ascended into the night sky and was no more.
"..." Colette thought about it seriously for a moment, but raised her hand and shook her head 'no'. "Pass." Ayla rushes to put her cloak around Zarina. No looking. She stared hard at Kaspar, Niallus, and even King Sancho.
Desmond had seen many things in this world. He had seen so many things. He has watched titans fall, demons sprint forth from every where, men die and undie.
And now he had seen an egg appear from the great beyond, protect them, and now it speaks to them like some great divine and leaves. And strangely, Desmond felt sad.
Sister Laska... blinked. She... did not know quite what to think. Demons had always been creatures of evil to her religiously vigorous mind. This one, however... its nobility was immense. Its compassion and bravery for the ages. She briefly considered reevaluating her entire world view. "That was... a good egg," she admitted solemnly.
Zarina was standing there, in the nude and waking up to a talking God-egg blessing them with eggs to eat, “I'm still dreaming, aren't I?” she looked down, noticed the lack of clothes, “Yeah, like one of those dreams I used to have.” she began to whistl nonchalantly whilst letting Ayla putting the cloak. She seizes an egg on the way and just kind of dance-walks about, “Gonna wake up soon~ Doo-dee-doo~”
King Sancho, being a gentleman, averted his eyes immediately. "I regret to inform you, young lady, that you are not, in fact, dreaming."
Desmond sighs as he looks away from the dancing Zarina as he says, "Zarina. This ain't a dream. I don't assume I'd be in it. You are dancing nakedly in front of multiple people".
Ayla turned toward Sister Laska, smiling warmly toward her. “You thought me a fool, but with friendship, you achieve the impossible. You should try becoming our friend too."
"Before we all get carried away, I'd like a word with YOU two." Colette marched over with her war hammer perched on her shoulder and advanced towards Kaspar and Ayla, her eyes full of fire.
Zarina stopped, turned and noticed the one and only king Sancho. The one that had been in the city during the Trials. The man she had seen, “Yep, I'm definitely dreaming.” she held the egg with some care as the dream-Ayla requested it, but her dance-walking didn't end, “King Sancho on a field with a divine-egg, HAH! Too bad I'll forget about it when I wake up.”
Desmond walks over and uses kinetic and throws his hat onto Zarina's head as he says, "Think of clothing you want to wear. You aren't dreaming and you are on full display to everyone and maybe another regiment of Century soon".
As Desmond's normal form appears, his outfit nowhere near as extravagant, he was a simple man with simple clothing.
“But this is comfy.” she dismisses Desmond, “but thanks for the hat!” she winks before stopping her little dance so she could admire the sights. There was still fire scattered on the field and unleashing foul chemicals in the air, making for a bluish smoke, “Pretty!”
"Stand back!" called King Sancho, and all present could feel the draw of his magic. He placed an anti-radioactive field around some of the residue. "This will cause serious illness if handled or even approached," he warned.
Zarina hummed a little tune, marching over to her husk, “Wow! Look at THAT! Looks like Heart.” she plucked one of the scales and then tilted her head as she saw the ivory, “Oh I remember this.” nabbed, and she left her egg over the hollow hand of the dragon husk. Carefree.
Ayla approached King Sancho, giving a short curtsey toward him. “Despite the circumstances, it was good to fight along you, my King. The Queen is safe and well."
The king nodded in return. He let out a tired bark of laughter. "May you live in interesting times, I suppose. Now," he concluded, "if you'll excuse me, I'll be going to see my Queen."
In truth, he had grave misgivings about what had taken place here. This girl had been weaponized without her knowledge and pointed at him with intent. It was nothing short of an assassination attempt and, if he was not entirely certain as to who had been behind it, he most certainly had his suspects. "When you are more... appropriately dressed," he addressed Zarina, keeping a respectful distance, "we need to speak. It is not my intention to punish you, but I must confirm my suspicions about who decided you would make a good weapon while in this state." He regarded her evenly. "Do we have an understanding?"
"So your majesty." Colette spoke. "I'd like to hang up my coat and go to bed now, but since it's my job I do have one more concern. You're technically the victim of assault here, and quite a bit of damage has been done to your retinue besides. I know these kids are happy to have their friend back, but at your command I will take her to the jails."
Sancho placed an arm around her shoulder. He smiled with no little warmth and thumped the Century on the chestplate exuberantly with his free hand. "Well fought, and bravely," he declared. "My family and I would be in your debt were it not your duty. Now..." He was already leading her away from the others. Presently, he glanced back at them and lowered his voice, leaning in conspiratorially. "She's Virangish, is she not?"
"If she looks like a Virangish, and she sounds like a Virangish..." Colette shrugged.
He shot her a look. "This is a politically sensitive matter," he advised. "I would ask that she be remanded to my custody for questioning. She was not an assassin, but she was used as a weapon here. I would like to get to the bottom of who used her."
"If it is you making the request, your majesty, then I am obligated to do everything in my power to make it happen." Colette untucked herself from Sancho's arm and bowed respectfully. "My men will be here to clean up very shortly. I can already sense them approaching. Shall I take her now, or later?"
"She is no threat at present," Sancho decided. "Have her tactfully shadowed. I shall wish to speak with her on the morn."
Colette tapped her feet together and saluted. As her and the king parted ways, her lieutenant came riding up on horseback. The rest of the Century squad, now arrived in force, was already making headway in cleaning up the aftermath of the carnage, including the pile of bodies left behind by Zarina's rampage.
"Keith, you see that girl?" The captain pointed at the Virangish. "By orders of his honorable highness, we will be assigning one of our security details to keeping her under surveillance until further notice. See that it is done. Quietly."
"Yes ma'am!"
Meanwhile, somewhere distant but perhaps not quite so distant as imagined, two very powerful people floated perhaps a kilometer above the ground. There was scarcely a living thing in sight aside from them. The one regarded the other. "You realize that you have failed," she said, and he did not glare at her. Rather, he simply returned her gaze. "As have you," he reminded her.
"There will be other opportunities," she allowed, but she remained on guard.
"And you will come to crush me once again in the name of... what is it that you stand for again, Jocasta Re?"
"I pray you stay away from Ersand'Enise," she warned, refusing to take the bait, "and we shall have no quarrel. Make another attempt, and we shall both die here."
There was an extended pause. "Until we meet again, then," her adversary replied. Then, he was gone. Then, she was.
Zarina opened her door to find two centuries waiting outside of it. "Zarina Al-Nader?" one inquired. The other, larger, member of the pair stood behind him, arms crossed.
A groggy Zarina took a silent moment to evaluate who was actually addressing her. Century? Why? “Who's asking?” she cautiously answered, her hand clenching the doorknob. The more she thought about it, the clearer the reality of it all was. It was still a blur - a dream that she hoped stayed pure fantasy. But deep down she knew.
"On order of his majesty, King Sancho VII, you are requested to accompany us for questioning regarding the incidents of the previous night of Taldes the thirty-seventh." They gave no further information or indication. They merely waited expectantly.
Zarina's heart sank. It was real and not just a figment of her imagination. She stood there, silent and wide-eyed. She likely came off as a tad dim with her reaction, “Okay, uhm. Let me get dressed.” if allowed, she'd close the door and take five minutes to put something presentable and worthy of a King, forgetting that she had went fully au naturel in front of him, “Ready.”
One among them, the woman, stepped inside, allowing Zarina only a degree of privacy, while the other waited outside the door. With minimal speech, they led her outside and towards a waiting windowless carriage.
The small trip outside was a blur to Zarina as he mind raced to recall what exactly happened. How could it all be real? A giant egg being? Her shedding from her dragon form? Anxiety was getting to her, with her stomach sinking down. It felt like having to face the music for an unfinished assignment, but cranked up to eleven. The Virangish wildblood stepped in with clear hesitation and took a seat within the relatively small space.
The centuries seated themselves to either side of her. In front was Sienna Afraval. "I wish you had confided in me, Zarina," she sighed, reaching into a bag as she sat. She shook her head. "We will be going outside of the city," the Zeno advised. "There, you will meet and speak with someone. Everything about that meeting is to remain strictly confidential." She was very much unlike the generous and jovial mentor that the girl had previously known, but perhaps the Torragonese sensed some of this. "I advise you to be honest," she relented. "The person with whom you will speak knows that you were but a weapon, innocent in thought if not entirely in deed. Speak truthfully, and I do not expect that this will be an unpleasant meeting."
Then, she withdrew what she had found in the bag. It was a black cloth. "You will blindfold yourself before we arrive, however." She shook her head. "I can do no more on your behalf."
It was her Zeno, Sienna Afraval, that awaited Zarina. It was quite convenient if one thought about it - a student of a member of the Royal family in the middle of it all. Upon acknowledging her teacher, Zaz kept her head down and merely nodded to every effort made to reassure and prepare the youth for the coming interrogation. It was Zarina's cue to think of a strategy, and while honesty was the first thing in mind, she did in fact have an accomplice. Sort of. And there lied the true problem.
The held the cloth in her hand, brushing her thumbs over the fabric as she looked down at it, “I understand.” she said, “Will you really keep this to yourself, Zeno Afraval?” her head remained lowered but her eyes peered up, “What I am. Would that actually be wise?”
"Full disclosure, Zarina: others have been told," she admitted, "but no more than those who've had to be." She seemed to soften further. "I've gotten to know you well enough over these past few months that I can see what sort of person you are. You care so much about animals, and now you suffer an unintended consequence. It is a burden you should not have to bear, and I fear it will make matters complicated for you. It is not unmanageable, however."
The carriage was moving, now: clattering down the city's flagstone roads and pausing from time to time. "You know," Sienna remarked, after a little while had passed, "I will admit to some curiosity as to precisely how you came in contact with..." she trailed off. "Such a large dragon" remained unsaid. "I will reiterate that you should've spoken with me, though. I wouldn't have been unsympathetic, and we could have prevented this." She closed her bag and dabbed at the sweat beading on her forehead with a kerchief, for it was a hot and muggy morning as Shune gave way to Oraff. "You and whoever else has been helping you keep your secret," the Zeno concluded, "this is a dangerous game you play, and people will die because of it." It was as if she knew her charge's behaviours all too well. "It will only be worse when - not if - there is nobody to stop this in the future and it all falls down on your heads. You were fortunate that there was a capable Century and a Red Rezaindian nearby." She sniffed and went to glance out the window from habit, but there were only narrow slats for light, and little to nothing was visible through them.
Then, after a particularly long pause, there was a change in the motion of the carriage: the rumble of rough gravel and a less-paved road. It was clear that they were outside of the city now, and headed elsewhere.
Those who've had to be. It may as well be everyone that mattered, from the Zenith to the Doge. Zarina sighed out of her nostrils and resumed her empty stare at the wooden flooring of the vehicle. Thoughts of her animals came to mind when Sienna made her remark on the teen's love of animals. What would become of her little ones if she were to disappear? A thought she had multiple times, but the reality of it was staring her right at the face now. It was terrifying.
Then the irony of it all hit her as her teacher pondered the notion as well. It caused a titter to escape the Virangish, “I'm sorry.” she whispered in shame, “I saw what happened to those suspected of being something dangerous-” she pursed her lips and eventually straightened her back, brushing her palm over her knees, “like Sanguinaires. I figured nothing good would come from telling others.” she explained, “But I guess nothing good came of the contrary.”
“What's going to happen to me after this?” she asked as they got further and further away from the city, “Should I live through today.” spoken with what was almost courage, but she couldn't stifle a light stammer from that 'live'.
Those who've had to be. It may as well be everyone that mattered, from the Zenith to the Doge. Zarina sighed out of her nostrils and resumed her empty stare at the wooden flooring of the vehicle. Thoughts of her animals came to mind when Sienna made her remark on the teen's love of animals. What would become of her little ones if she were to disappear? A thought she had multiple times, but the reality of it was staring her right at the face now. It was terrifying.
Then the irony of it all hit her as her teacher pondered the notion as well. It caused a titter to escape the Virangish, “I'm sorry.” she whispered in shame, “I saw what happened to those suspected of being something dangerous-” she pursed her lips and eventually straightened her back, brushing her palm over her knees, “like Sanguinaires. I figured nothing good would come from telling others.” she explained, “But I guess nothing good came of the contrary.”
“What's going to happen to me after this?” she asked as they got further and further away from the city, “Should I live through today.” spoken with what was almost courage, but she couldn't stifle a light stammer from that 'live'.
"It is all about telling the right people, chiquita." She shook her head. "The church isn't generally too big of a fan of people who endanger others, and I think your Rezaindian assumed you were a rogue wildblood. You had some good friends who convinced her not to put you down then and there."
They turned, then, and the light coming in through the slats dimmed somewhat. "After this, you'll be treated as a special case by the school, like my good friend Luna - that's Zeno Moonlight to you - was, and a file will be opened on you. I expect you may have to pay some extra fee - not too onerous - and those in charge will be made aware, of course, but you're likely to receive instruction. You'll have to sign off on a confidentiality agreement - I would strongly not recommend going back on it - and they'll come up with a management plan. The goal is to give you some control back and, failing that, pacify you when there are five moons in the sky."
Then, the wagon began to slow, and Sienna Afraval handed Zarina the blindfold. "It will only be for a few moments," she assured the youth, "barring something unexpected."
Ayla and maybe even Kaspar were likely the ones to save Zarina. She was indeed lucky for a variety of reasons, although it begged the question as to why the one friend she trusted with this conundrum did not intervene, or even let it happen in the first place. A growing anger started in boil and her natural inclination to resent prompted her to grit her teeth. And yet, she would not betray her friend. But she would want an explanation.
They had arrived and Afraval presented with what Zarina would have to expect going forward. The mention of of Luna at least gave someone for the teen to refer to if the process became difficult. Still, despite how Sienna tried to sell the future of Zarina in the school, she did not exactly feel reassured. They hunted Sanguinaires, and it seemed very little separated them from Wildbloods when it came to the danger they posed.
“All my things go to my sister and Ayla if I don't come back, okay? And Marci keeps the business. And the dragons.” she confides her improvised will to her Zeno right before she tied the blindfold around her head, “Ready.”
Sienna leaned in. "I understand," was all that she said. Then, she took Zarina by the arm and led her carefully down the steps. The ground under her feet was unpaved until she found herself on a path. There were two steps and then a door opened. For a moment, she felt Sienna Afraval's grip tighten on her arm and there may have been an intake of breath. Then, she let go. "Remember what we spoke about on the way," she advised. The door closed and Zarina was in a room of some sort. She could sense fire: tamed, and the chemical reactions that always came along with wine. Finally, a voice. It was deep, rich, and accented with the pleasant tones of Torragon. "You can remove the mask, dragon," it offered. When she did, she found that she was speaking to none other than King Sancho himself.
Before her was the King of a nation she was supposed to hate in spite of her own origins. And if most were honest with themselves, were the origins of quite a few of her own neighbors. The piece of cloth was tied around her wrist, “Your Grace.” she spoke with a reserved voice as she gently bowed like any proper lady would. She didn't add anything more and merely stood there, nervous but with a straight face and half-lidded eyes.
"That was a good chunk you took out of my wife last night," the king offered, standing casually and walking over to a table. He poured some sort of drink from a pitcher into a pair of mugs. "Luckily, she's a tough girl. Here," he decided, "sit, drink. We need to talk."
Zarina kept any comment to herself. She was put on the spot with the remarks - things she did not recall and sounded atrocious. She did take the offered seat and simply peered down at the drink before taking a careless sip. The light in her eyes wavered as she peeked up at the King of Torragon, “I'm sorry, about the Queen.” she muttered, “How many did I hurt?” she asked with a firmer voice and her gaze rising to meet the regal host's.
"You killed five of my men. Another is... favoured by Reshta now, one might say. Your friends insist that you are a good person. One of them is Ayla Arslan, and I hold that name in high regard. Her father is a loyal ally. I do not believe that you would have done this on purpose so, as long as you speak truthfully, I shall hold you blameless."
Whatever embers of light that flickered in her eyes were extinguished. She slowly lowered his eyes and seemingly shut down. Zarina was still here, but everything felt so numb, like once again this was just some very bad dream. This was why she never slept properly. “What do-” she needed to support her forehead with her palm as she seemed to lose her balance, “What do you want to know?”
Sancho raised the cup to his lips, but then paused. "I am angry," he admitted, setting it down. "Those were good men. I knew many of them. You were the bullet, however, and a politically convenient one. I want to know who was the gun that fired you." Then, he drank. Then, he waited.
“I don't know.” she answered without hesitation, “I don't remember anything.” her nails dug into her scalp.
Sancho rose once more. "Pull yourself together," he said. "It is not fair, but you have become a weapon. You now play on a bigger stage. That is the reality. Rise instead of faltering." He placed a hand upon her shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze. "Drink," he said, doing the same. "The cider is good. Your journey has been long. I need your help. We will find a way to make it so."
Drink she did, all of it. Zarina tensed up as her shoulder was squeezed, prompting a loud inhale. “I never remember when it happens.” she stated, holding the cup with both her hands, “Even at four moons, a lot of it is a blur. Like ...” she swallowed more of the accumulating guilt, “A dream you start to forget as soon as you wake up.”
Sancho nodded understandingly. "I have head as much from others so afflicted," he admitted. "Nonetheless, you were clearly not in Ersand'Enise before you appeared right by me. Let us retrace your steps," he prodded, "where had you been previously?"
“Vossoriya.” she stated with no hesitation, “Same place each time for five moons.”
"That is a start!" he crowed. "Perhaps we can pry it from your memory yet! Retrace your steps!" Sancho nodded encouragingly. "Now, how did you come to be there, for surely it could not have been easy?"
An uncharacteristic pause. A sign something was going on in her head, “... I can warp space.” she said, but felt almost compelled to say more despite her instinct not to, “Others ... Can to, in the school.” she froze, imagining a potential scenario, “I don't know if I could use it as ... That.” she sucked in her lips. Perhaps she warped there on her own?
"Who else, then?" he asked, excited now. "You are blameless in thought. I know this. Your friends likely are as well, but they may remember more than you presently can. Who else uses Temporal Magic that you know? They might be the key!"
Zarina was not the brightest, but she knew these tactics. Ways to get one's associated ratted out. It was the usual, and King Sancho's charisma did little to convince her otherwise.
But it didn't matter, “I- ...”
“I have a friend ...” she clenched her jaw, tightened her grip on the mug and let the words pour out her mouth, “Jocasta. She helps me with this.” her eyes were nearly bloodshot, clearly she was not enjoying this.
Sancho smiled supportively. "Thank you. That is my next breadcrumb. I can tell you did not want to speak, but you overcame your hesitancy. It is... another kind of bravery. I will find the person or persons who tried to make a tool of you, to kill me and mine, who sent five good men to Eshiran and looked to set Torragon against Virang." He voice rose righteously towards the end. "For now, perhaps you would like some food? Perhaps you do not feel that you can eat..." He shook his head. "but the show must go on."
“Bravery ...” Zarina relented on her grasp of the mug and spoke her mind, “I ratted out a friend.” she looked up at her interrogator, “What did you do?”
His eyes narrowed. "What I had to, and I make no apologies." Sancho sipped. "Since you're curious, it was idiot's apple. Your friend is known to me. In fact, she and I have already spoken and now you've corroborated her story." He set the cup down on the table, empty. "I have no interest in whatever you're up to. I even respect your loyalty and your genuine remorse, for what it's worth." He paused. "Enough not to destroy you, and enough not to lie to you." The king regarded her evenly. "I do not believe in making this world a worse place with my actions. I trust I have made the right decision with you." He was unmoving. "Have I?"
The notion of being drugged did not sit well with her, even if it ended up pushing her toward the 'right' choice. Or maybe he was lying to calm her down, and nothing was corroborated. In any case, an uneasy gaze met Sancho's, “She did not do this,” Zarina stated bitterly, as if she was still resisting something, “I'm sure of it.” she sighed in relief and took a moment to breathe.
“You did what you had to do.” he admitted despite her frustration.
Sancho was impassive. "I know she didn't," he admitted. "Augusto Frannemas did." He clasped his hands at the small of his back. "Don't you wonder why your all-powerful friend didn't show up to help pacify you?"
Zarina flinched, “Why?” it made sense, everything Sancho said, but the why eluded this oblivious drugged up Virangish, “Why would he do this? To me. To Jo ...” she narrowed her gaze to the King, “... Why us?”
"To me," he corrected. "I'm the target. You are... collateral to him." He sighed. "And for that, you have my apologies." He smiled sadly and rested his forearm on the hilt of his sword. "Think about where you're from. Think about how convenient this is. To the Frannemas, everyone else is but a tool."
Zarina shook her head, “Why not just kill you himself?” she growled, not toward the King in particular but at the unfortunate circumstances. It was all unfair. “You've seen right through that shit.” she clenched the mug again, nearly snapping it without the use of the gift, “... It feels sloppy.”
"Because he would have no chance against me," Sancho replied with a smile. "I dealt with his father. I can deal with him, and the little coward knows it. Still..." the king allowed. "I think there is more, and I'd like to find out. Will you help me?"
“If he did this.” the teeth gritting was getting very audible and unpleasant, “I'm going to kill him.” no smile was shot back to the King but a solemn look was given instead, “I'll help you handle this. For your men. For your wife.”
"Well met," Sancho agreed. He held out her hand. "Now, what say we eat?"
Zarina wasn't hungry, “Yes, lets.” she managed to muster up the willpower to politely lie. It was easy to forget it was a King standing before her, just as it was easy to forget she had spoken to what she believed to be Gods with great familiarity. She knew better now. “We should let Zeno Afraval in.” she muttered with a gentler voice.
"Yes," Sancho agreed. "I suppose we should."
Before Sancho could invite his cousin, Zarina seized the initiative with a second question, “What were their names?”
Zarina learns from Sancho that they were named Juan-Carlos Bazan, Antonio Rojas-Herrera, Heriberto Ramirez-Gonzalez, Cristobal Garcia-Sanchez, and Arantxa Ugalde.
Yuliya, Kaspar, Ayla, Zarina and Nibbler venture from the Silk Portal toward the Workman’s Quarter, coming across the large smithy where sound is distorted to the point of being completely inaudible. Upon rescuing the smith and investigating, Ayla and Yuliya successfully secure the invisible aberration - detected by Ayla’s abilities in sound - and assimilate it, feeding the Arslan with the Shadowscream Mana type in the process. The group continues until they come near the Proving Grounds, where they subdue a maddened Fire Boar, allowing Kaspar to purify it. After a thorough scrub of the arena, Zarina and Kaspar take in the smaller aberration in the area before heading out.
The group takes a boat through the canal and reaches the Hideout within the Borderwood. There, a Hungering Aberration sucks in Yuliya, Ayla and Nibbler into a parallel timeline desolate of most life with the air tasting like metal. They find an older Benedetto Corvi at the Forked Tower, and after mild hostility offers to send them back with the caveat of turning into demons. They agree and return to the distressed Zarina and Kaspar as demonic and incomprehensible versions of themselves. Yuliya and Ayla remained relatively mild-mannered with their appearances barely altered, while Nibbler takes a monstrous form and ruthlessly attacks the group. Luckily, he is pacified by a chill Yuli-demon and purified by Kaspar.
While the three were in the other timeline, a Kaspar empowered with the Demoncaller mana type through the Hungering aberration and Zarina encountered a supposed resident of the Hideout who assisted in helping against the demon Nibbler. He later provides information as to where the remaining aberrations could be, with the group opting to go North toward the Leviathan and ruins. Along the way, they face off with a F I S H E, a large flat one, that grows more and more aggressive as the group avoids and deflects its attacks. Zarina ends up missiling herself into its mouth and propelling it to its death.
They eventually arrive at the Leviathan, and inside the skull is the largest aberration they had yet to see in this ordeal. A black aberration that purifies Yuliya of her demonic form completely and leaves Ayla as a Quasi-demon, while also taking manas from them while booning the non-demonic members of the team. This is enough to discourage further exploring and aberration cleansing. They bypass the ruins and head back to the city, as the chaos appears to have died down since their departure.
After a series of harrowing experiences, the Biros gather at Balthazar Hall before a towering aberration and experience what can be best described as mass hysteria. They all crumble into a mess of uncontrolled and specific emotions, becoming relatively hazardous, but pretty hilarious for the most part. Then a second wave of spontaneous mood wings occurs, although this time they hear different pieces of a phrase depending on their affliction. They manage to piece together the following:
“Repeat in Avince's Preferred Order but touch in the rainbow's”
This clue allows them to figure out the order in which they are to enter the aberration depending on the colour they evoked. One by one, they all entered, and after a bright flash of light. Around them is a grove, and there are five clusters of five fruit trees each. Ten robed figures stand before them, two before each cluster of trees.
"You may take your pick of fruits," said a woman. She was pregnant and radiant.
Those of the first grove grew bright and beautiful. Their branches were laden with delectable passionfruit and pink apples.
Those of the second were well-pruned and tall, reaching for the sky. They grew golden apples and Buddha's Hand.
The third cluster were grand, verdant, and ever-growing. They had oranges and green apples upon their branches.
In the fourth were grim black trees with spiny bark and sparse darkened leaves. They grew Medlars and Brandæbles.
The trees of the fifth and final grove grew straight and proud, their leaves ethereally shifting between seasons. They held red apples and starfruit.
Some ways away from the other clusters is a single tree. One of its main branches appears to be broken. It is heavy with pomegranates.
"Take one and only one," advised a tall man with a hammer slung over his shoulder.
Each Biro (as well as some others such as Colette) take their fruit and indulge in its richness. A select few had found the sixth, hidden tree. And as they finish this delectable picnic in a land far from Ersand’Enise, they suddenly are back in Balthazar Hall with the aberration now gone and no longer a threat.
Fiske - Red Apple Dorothea - Medlar Zarina - Orange Abdel - Brandaeble Nibbler - Pomegranate Evander - Buddha’s Hand Yalen - Starfruit Isabella - Buddha’s Hand Yuliya - Pink Apple Ingrid - Golden Apple Maura - Red Apple Jamboi - Pomegranate Jocasta - Orange Benedetto - Brandaeble Penny - Pomegranate Manfred - Passionfruit Ismette - Passionfruit Sven - Golden Apple Ayla - Pink Apple Marceline - Medlar Jomurr - Starfruit Marlijn - Pink Apple Owain - Red Apple Desmond - Red Apple Colette - Pink Apple Esmi - Green Apple Niallus - Orange Ymiico - Brandaeble Kaspar - Buddha’s Hand Silas - Pomegranate Nazih - Green Apple Trypano - Golden Apple Casii - Green Apple
A Velles night had never felt this cold before. After sharing an evening of drinks and laughs with Yuliya, both she and Zarina ended up lying on the large island-bed amidst a sea of various things the Vossoriyan Princess had left lying around. The girls were on their separate sides, one asleep and the other awake, cold despite the covers and being fully clothed. It was all in her mind, of course, for the world would always feel colder than it really is without the warmth one desperately covets.
Zarina couldn’t sleep. She feigned being a lightweight to avoid losing herself to the stupor that came with such strong drinks. There was no way she’d slip. And yet here she was, so close to something precious - that warmth she denied herself for at least three years now. On her back, she turned her head to look toward the lovely blonde that had confided so much into her. Hesitantly, her hand reached out, stopping a few inches from Yuliya’s face before retreating back in complete silence after balling into a sturdy fist.
She sighed, and quietly rose from her side of the bed. The decision to leave had been made, but she took her time. The lights from the clear skies and the moon of Ipte shone bright over half of the sleeping girl’s face. Zarina lingered a while longer, watching, before reaching out again, content with only pulling up the covers a little more to cover her friend.
The little gesture made her smile. And so, she made another thoughtful one. A slip of her index had her use the gift to telekinetically lift the mess of clothes and other junk lying about, and had them fold in mid air. All in complete silence. Piles were made, neat and tidy, for Yuliya to find the next day, although without her friend to greet her.
In her dorm, the candles lit the moment Zarina stepped in, revealing a somewhat ordered home with a bit of Dormouse Hair spread on the furniture. The teen paced around, her thoughts diving into things she couldn’t simply forget or distract herself from anymore, and in that pacing she entered her small study room. Her recent winning from the Chamber of Greed awaited her, opened and readable only by her, apparently.
These Zenos are fucking crazy, I swear …
She shook her head and chuckled to herself as she peered into the Hierophant’s Secrets. A treasure trove of knowledge on Temporal magic, a lot of which allowed Zaz to grasp notions Jocasta couldn’t properly articulate without in-depth illustrations. It was … A particularly generous reward for a trial, especially compared to the list of goods for the final prizes. Although then again, three Kaempe Ko were perhaps worth more to someone like Zarina, but she had long accepted her preferences were not too common or to be flaunted. How she already regretted leaving Yuliya’s side.
There was no studying to be done tonight, she merely passed by to keep her legs active before heading to her bedroom where she’d find some remedy to her solitude. In a suspended cage opposite of her bed was Arlo, sleeping in his wooden home. Like clockwork, he never missed out on bed time with potential screeching if he was disturbed.
There were the eggs, or rather two sets of eggs. One was a pair, with an egg bigger than the other, all placed on a sort of incubator-like transparent box made to keep them safe and warm. They were Zarina’s precious Froabas eggs, made to take in sunlight every day while being shielded from the elements. The other set was on a small, potted tree she had brought in with a colourful nest she had gotten with the clutch of five eggs inside. They were Monkeybirds, almost ripe for hatching. All were visited by Zarina to ensure they were fine, before she headed to bed.
Finally, there was Nibbler on that very bed, curled up with his tail curved up to his head in an adorable ball. She did her best to not wake him, lying on her side to take less territory. Her mind never stopped racing, however. The mysteries behind this unusually strong and intelligent rodent made her drift to more unpleasant realms, fuelled by the recent revelation of Hugo’s death.
Jocasta.
The time in Djamant vividly came back to her. All the deaths, the murderous intentions and the horrible screeches. How could things get so bad? Who can be this detested to be hunted by a legion of people willing to die just to kill you?
Zarina reached out to hold her cat-sized Dormouse, prompting the little creature to open its eyes slightly and its ears to perk up. It didn’t move, and just nestled into her.
What the hell did you do?
She held her animal just a little tighter, as the screams of death from both the envoys of the Church and the screams of the Thresher resonated in her troubled head.
Oh Gods.
Like Nibbler, she curled up into a ball, fully into foetal position. It had gotten so cold and dark in this lit room on a Velles night.
I got a person killed. she mouthed these words in her head but only uttered exhales, I got an innocent creature killed for nothing. she held Nibbler tighter. The scene of that sea-creature dying an atrocious death kept playing over and over.
Never again. She forced these things in unnatural situations for her own gain. They needed to be protected. It was the least they deserved for giving their bodies to her will and exact goals that benefitted them not. No corners would be cut for her animals from this point forward. Obscene amounts of money were to be poured in protecting them, and a firm stance would be made to not use those in the wild as mere tools. It was a promise to herself and those creatures that trusted her. A promise to protect.
An unpleasantly sleepless night passed, with the sun promising nothing but a terrible day to come after Blood Victendes. Pessimism was at its most, even with Nibbler by her side.
And yet, the rays of light came with some warmth to Zarina. With all this death she had seen and the realisations hitting her all at once, it all felt hopeless, until the singing of new life loudly called out for her attention.
No way.
She darted out of her bed, only to find three of the five Monkeybird eggs hatched with the naked chicks crying out for attention, warmth and food. Zarina couldn’t hold back her tears anymore - after refusing to let all the darkness break her - and succumbed to the beauty she just witnessed. Sniffles, laughter and a stream of tears. These adorable little critters were carefully tended to with Nibbler watching with great interest on top of a branch.
All five were up and about, incessantly chirping for their mother. Zarina did her best to tend to their needs for food, and provided them with a warm ball of wool for them to press against while they huddled up together to stay warm.
Things weren’t so bad after all.
“Argh, Eshit.”
Ten or so minutes after the consensual knockout from Penny, Zarina awoke on the cheap lounge sofa that was clearly less comfortable than those picked by the other contestants. Her digits pressed tightly on her temples as the head pain remained, but the numbing from the pain lingered for the time being. The effects were potent enough to have her disregard the cuts she made to herself whilst massaging the sides of her head.
The Zeno Sectoxomactex had been called upon by Desmond, however any issues were dismissed as mild disorderly conduct from intoxication. There was no need to oust Zarina for something that was unconfirmed. Not yet anyway. The party was over with most attendants readying themselves for the coming Roses & Neskals matches. “So, what’s wrong with me?” she inquired with a gravelly voice to the person who had burdened herself with helping her, “Give it to me straight, doc, is it terminal?” and not without a little bit of sass and a forced grin.
That person was Penny Pellegrin, and the inescapable truth was that there was no love lost between the two of them, at least on her side. If it wasn’t hatred, it was at least a distaste for the other girl. She felt too much like a rival and the eager violence with which she’d delivered a beatdown on the Perrenchwoman’s prone form during the Melon Derby still smarted.
Penny was good at being civil to people whom she disliked, but not necessarily good at forgiving them. She held grudges. So, why had she stepped in? She told herself that it was for the others in the event. The interruption would cast a pall over matters, and she knew that Zarina’s problems would only grow more serious. She had somehow become infected. She was a wildblood of… something reptilian. Penny could guess that it was a dragon. The Virangish would hurt people eventually unless she was equipped to deal with it.
“Well,” she replied after what had appeared to be a moment of careful and unsmiling consideration, “it’s not going away, at least, though you’ve probably actually bought yourself more years, ironically.” She let out a snort. “You’ve had close contact with a dragon recently, yes?” She regarded her counterpart, head tilted, waiting.
“You can say that.” little thought was put into Zarina’s answer, and luckily little effort came with it. It quickly became evident to her that transparency with someone that likely didn’t appreciate her all that much wasn’t smart, even if that person came to her aid, “But loads of people meet plenty of dragons every day.” she peered as her misshapen nails she gritted her teeth, “What the fuck, Penny?” she asks with worry weighing heavy on her voice, “What’s going on with me?”
“Most people meet dragons, but they don’t… exchange fluids with dragons.” She paused. “Blood, saliva, or…” Penny trailed off. “Yeah, blood or saliva. You did. There’s an infection I’ve read about.” She smiled sheepishly and shrugged. “You read a lot as a printer’s daughter. Anyway, there are three moons out and you’re transforming. It’s simple: you’re a wildblood.”
“For the record,” Zarina pointed her mutated claw at Penny, “I’m no degenerate. In case there’s some insinuation going on.” she kept the digit up for a few seconds, eventually curling it and prompting some unusually loud cracks. She winced, “Sss. Fuck.”
“Wildblood.” she repeated, sounding almost outraged by the revelation, “Sounds like something that comes from long-eared land. Like monkey-shit.” she slaps the cheap leather of the couch out of frustration, “... Is there a cure?”
Penny pursed her lips. After a moment she shook her head. “Not that I know of, but I’m no expert. Three moons, you get something like this and, yes, it’ll hurt like hell each time. Four moons, it’ll be even worse: more pain, less control.” She regarded the taller girl evenly. “Five? You become the animal. You won’t remember a thing.” Her expression had gone from almost taking pleasure in it to sympathetic. “If there’s an upside, it’s that you’re a lot stronger now and… well, you’ll live as long as whatever animal’s blood you’ve got.” She shifted a bit. “Sucks for rabbit wildbloods,” she grumbled.
Zarina cocked her eyebrows as she was swiftly overwhelmed by the bomb Penny had mercifully chugged onto her without beating around the bush. For a moment she was speechless, hands shaking with one awkwardly seeking to cup her pulsating skull, “Each time. This.” her hands curled into fists and were desperate to find something to abuse, and luckily there wasn’t much of anything left around, so the Virangish ended up sort of awkwardly moving her limbs about, “Give me more of whatever you did. Please.” her golden eyes were wide, with her right one redder than normal, and she leaned in closer to the knowledgable Perrench girl, “I can already feel this dull pain growing. Like a headache you just know is going to get worse and worse.” she reached out to seize the other’s arm, “Please.”
“It’s… just chemical magic,” Penny replied awkwardly. She could use this to her advantage, it occurred to her. How she could keep Zarina on a leash! For a moment, she mulled it over, but the idea, beyond a brief initial appeal, didn’t feel all that good. She knew, in a different way, what it was to be kept dependent. She managed a reassuring smile. “Just chemical magic,” she repeated, “more the kind of stuff you learn with binding, to be fair.” She glanced at her counterpart, annoyed with herself for getting involved, for going soft here on someone who was just… not good, but now she’d crossed the event horizon of helping out and needed to see it through. She rested a reassuring hand on Zarina’s shoulder and used a variant of the spell from earlier. “I can… teach you how to use it, I guess.”
Zarina nodded, awkwardly retreating her hand as she then knitted them together over her thighs, “Right, chemical.” this was a humbling experience, as the simple answer was quite evident and her inability to either do it or think up the straightforward solution didn’t project the image she liked the most, “I’d like that.” she smiled and listened with unusual discipline.
“Say,” Zarina brought up after a brief moment, “You reckon more could be found about this in the Tower? You said you learned about this through reading, so … Maybe worth a shot?”
Penny rose and nodded. “I think that would be a very strong bet. For now, however…” she glanced about. Marlijn was approaching, waving for her. “We have matches to play. She started to turn, but hesitated. “Good luck, okay?” Zarina didn’t rise right away, afraid to cause a new chain of unpleasant soreness she never thought would’ve been possible at her age, “Hey,” she beckoned for Penny’s attention, “Thanks for that. You didn’t have to help the resident cunt.” both palms pressed onto the couch and she attempted to stand. It wasn’t too bad, for now, “I appreciate it, Penny.”
The Perrenchwoman nodded. “No problem.” Then, she was gone.
Penny’s guidance led Zarina here, the Forked Tower, in the hopes of finding answers to her ailment. One was to hope it’d be a quick find too, as the moons were to gather the coming Victendes. One bad Victendes was bad enough.
Arch-Zeno Harrachora leads the group of five towards the Forked Tower. The Violet Enclave is almost - if not quite - eerily somber and silent. "Sorry for the lack of reception," he apologizes. "This is usually a bigger affair. I remember when I made it in," he sighs. "It was a very warm welcome. We're... currently dealing with a loss, as you'd imagine."
It is rainy and so very overcast that it feels almost like that strange species of night when all five moons are out. Thunder mumbles softly from within the clouds. Puddles grow, but the magic users are safe from the rogue water, of course. Then, they're there. The tower looms before them and just craning one's neck up to look at it is utterly vertigo-inducing. The upper reaches remain ghostlike, shrouded in translucent fog and mist. Barely visible, a beam of pure red light leaps from its top, knifing into the low-hanging clouds and disappearing somewhere beyond them.
The five students - Trypano, Ingrid, Zarina, Kaspar, and Yuliya - are led up a curving staircase and found themselves at the door. The rest of the world seemed muted and distant somehow, now. No matter. The Arch-Zeno knocked in a particular pattern. There was an immense surge of energy.
Then, the door opened and they're inside. Waiting for them was a receptionist who bore a strong resemblance to the Zenith and... is that Jocasta? "Welcome to the Forked Tower," said the woman. They casted about for Harrachora, but he was nowhere to be found. "Your time begins now," she advised with a smile. "Enjoy yourselves!"
“Eyyy, Jojo.” Zarina's dull expression betrayed the forced enthusiasm in her voice, “The Tower AND our Spratzfield. You truly are blessed.” Zazzy being Sassy, as always, “Well, at least I'll have decent company.” the sass was redirected at her peers with a smirk on her face and her hand on her hip. Nibbler hopped on her shoulder and performed his trademarked wave that looked as clumsy as ever. Just a few raises of his paw without any real waving. Cute, of course.
It was time to do what she was here to do. So, she plainly asked, “Thank you, Zenith Upta,” she politely nodded before getting to the point with a hushed voice, “I'd like to know where your records on the Wildbloods are.” there was a little bit of temporal magic, allowing only those versed in the magic, or those close enough (like Jocasta) to hear her.
"I found my own way in," Jocasta answered with the hint of a smile. "I'll tell you about it sometime."
Then, the woman who bore an uncanny resemblance to the Zenith smiled and stifled a snort of laughter, pausing from her sorting of some interestingly-labeled books. "It's Madame Esseralc," she replied with a warm accent that sounded... well, nothing quite like anything Zarina had ever heard. There was perhaps a hint of Weggosi to it. "You'll find what you're looking for on the third floor, sugar. Head on into the study room on the right side of the hall and then right on through. First collection you'll see."
“Oh.” Zarina blinked with the slightest hint of a blush on her cheeks. What a dunce, “T-thank you, Madame Esseralc.” another nod, this one looking almost like a bow. She attempted to regain her composure and half-succeeded and forming a confident smile, “I'll see you around, nerds. Let's have dinner at an agreed time, yeah? Yeah.” with that, she headed toward the stairs.
Before reaching the third, she made a quick stop at the second to take notice of the nearest rooms. The singular book of Ahn-Shune definitely captured her attention, although she merely made a mental note before pursuing her initial goal: The Wildblood collection in the third floor. To the right and through the study room, she reached the shelves, “Okay ...” she mumbled, “First time I'm actually excited in studying.”
Soft, diffused light trickles in through the window, grey and somber, illuminating the swirling dust in the air and a large comfortable-looking red sofa. Closer by, however, are at least a few hundred books on the subject of Wildbloods. A smaller, single-person easy chair lies to Zarina's right as she enters and, in the midst of the collection, is an endtable with intricate woodwork that reminds her of a large puzzle box. On top is a candle in a holder, producing an amount of light that seems... almost unnatural.
Taking a moment to peruse the shelves, she notices that there are five subsections: 1) Wildblood Transformations 2) Wildblood Types 3) Wildblood Histories 4) Wildblood Hunting 5) Wildblood Records
The Animal Unleashed, by Juan Antonio Mendoza-Cardena.
Transformation Triggers: -Older book but not super old, bound in leather. -Forward written in the book by Count Mendoza, a dapper individual that lived over a century ago, could still be around. -Where did Penny learn this info? Father was a printer, so … -Stages of the moon: 3, 4, 5 exact mechanism is uncertain, at about midday near the hours of Oraff the transformation begins, the end of Shune usually. -3 moons is not that painful. Right. Last all day and the night. Ends completely at hours of Shune the next day. Lasts about 20 hours, 12 at full power. Remove yourself from combat when you’re waning. Not all that severe of a change. Can be generally hidden and explained away. -4 Moon is very painful, self-control is dubious and very limited. Should remove oneself from triggers of aggressive behaviour. Can’t be concealed, need to make oneself scarce, will resemble a chimera/were-beast. -5 Moon transformation will turn one into a human version of your animal. Author hasn’t mastered it but it is said that some have done so. Size matters, small animals can lead up to half your normal size. If large, up to double normally (froabases, elephants)
Something for the Pain: -Pain does get better and there is a way to improve it. -Circle of trust can help with internal chemical. Can be transformed unconscious if chemical magic is maintained and they’re very good at it. -Using it on yourself is a possibility, but never stop the transformation as it might hurt and even kill you. -Only way to stop/lessen them is a severe regimen of plushtail oil. To stop a five moon, you need 8 days worth of plushtail oil (two large glasses). Glass and a half for 4 moons. -Salves and numbing agents help. Balm of the nitpicker cactus. Eskand, don’t go on brandaebles (heightens senses). -You will bleed a lot. Very bloody transformations.
Guide to self-control: -Chemical preparation for coming hormones. Some are human, some are unknown. Target the ones that affect mood. -Full self-control is pretty much impossible. Find a good outlet for your anger and energy. -Have a friend set tasks ahead of time to keep busy and release aggression. -Create a list of triggers. Have others help record them too. Identify them and remove yourself from them. -Forgive yourself. Don’t shirk responsibility. Balance that you are yourself but not at the same time. The animal is still a manifestation of things that are inside of you. Self-help page Zazzy takes big notes on. -See contingency Planning for 5 moons. -Find anchors: Long term association toward things or people. Transform thinking of those things, it will blunt some of it. Can work 5 moons to an extent. Practice focusing on one, and then expand to potential 2 or 3.
Contingency Planning: -Get away from people if 5 moons are coming. Try not to rely on someone else. They might become the focus of your aggression. -Beast can use temporal, but very scattershot. Both time and space. -If someone can be trusted at a position of authority, tell them. Having a group that can provide a good cover. Exposure of identity as Wildblood to society is a bad idea. Don’t be parasitic, offer your strength/return the favour. Build a healthy network. -If you kill someone, it probably will happen, tell yourself they’re a bad person, or someone they won’t be missed. It is imperative that if you taste human flesh, that it doesn’t happen two transformations in a row. If you do so in three transformations in a row, you may be ‘lost to the animal’ and not transform back. -At 3 moons, eating someone is you, and you’re fucked up. -At two in a row, don’t let yourself transform and go full plushtail. You will be tempted more if you kill. -Four moons memory will be fuzzy, you won’t remember anything from five moons.
Hiding in Plain Sight: -Bring a second set of clothes if you’re going to isolate yourself when transforming in a place you’re familiar with. -Handling family, keep good cover and know who to trust, the cues, animal senses will help in 3 and 4 moons (with control). Senses are very refined, and can detect subtle cues like heart issues. -Sanguinaires are real. Be wary of them. They will attempt to prey on Wildbloods, and have the most delicious blood to them. They are your prey at 5 moons. You get a pass for eating them, and you see them as carrion.
A Comprehensive Field Guide to Each of the Terrible and Wonderful Formes of the Bestial Beings Known as Wildbloods, by Sir Chester Winnington of Bramforth, Hendland.
Intro & Defining Characteristics of the Afflicted: -No longer fantastical, more science. Keep folklore in mind but science before all. -Race (humans) has no discernible effects on transformation. Body size and health have a bigger effect. Species of animals has an impact obviously. Gender remains the same, and can have interesting consequences depending on the animal. Similar pigmentation removes the pain. -Aging is about a halfway point between how humans and animals age. Very unfortunate for small canine wildblood.
Dragons: -Genus Tyrannus are similar to Heart but none really match. Something isn’t quite right. -Sand Wyrm Wildblood isn’t really common, as it usually kills you if attacked. Very strong burrowers, grow 3-4 times the size of a human.
In Consideration of the Various Types: Advantages and Limitations due to body forme: -Certain types are not particularly viable, further away from human form the more painful transformation it is. Difference is based on animal size, so you can’t be of a small fish. Within 4x the size of the animal when transforming. -Lower intelligence to be expected, less rationality. Four moons is more in-between human and animal intelligence, three moons is mostly human. If it’s an aquatic animal, land might be a problem. Sky animal might often be in the sky, be ready. Prepare the right space. -Speed, strength, durability increased. Magics instinctively used by animal, you will use them.
Hybrid varieties: -Speculation that they exist, proposes mechanisms. There exist reports of some that become chimaeras. Possibly Sanguinaires that assimilate more than one bloodtype. Potentially experimentation of unholy nature. None enough is known or has been captured for study.
Wildbloods as yet unknown to study: -In some cases Wildbloods of extinct species can exist if they’ve been extinct in recent memory via human-to-human transfer. -There was a particularly known extinction phenomenon, the sky glowed and sparkled and the moon fell from the sky. Might be the cause of the extinctions. -Other animals can potentially transfer but they’re too large to pass on manas. -Cryptids, rumoured extra large species of dragons, yetis, etc.
-Zazzy feels great shame for what she feels, makes for a lonely person. -Recalls past events, from her winnings in the trials to Prickly Situation. -Vows to avoid another situation like in Djamant, especially toward her animals. -Monkeybirds are born the next morning, brightening her up. -Forked Tower starts, with Penny being the instigator to Zarina’s inquest. -Two books are researched with notes taken.
Location: Au Boeuf Rouge - Ersand'Enise Day of the week: Taldes Time: 4:XX HE Characters: Ingrid @dragonpiece, Maura @Ti, Zarina, Anna, Etienne, Frédérique Au Boeuf Rouge's Staff, Carving Contestants Mystery Player
Étienne walks through to the carving area, already holding his nose. Why he agreed to this was beyond him, perhaps the old weasel tricked him. Regardless, he is here, let’s see what these peasants can do.
He walks up to the slates, taking it from one of the assistants as he started crossing names off already. “These can go home”. He hands the slate back to the poor assistant who has to break the bad news, “Refund them and apologise” says Frédérique to the bewildered girl as she is already cleaning up her brother's messes as she sighs to him.
“Monsieur… Snood”, he could taste the disgust from the tip of his tongue, but he is Eskandish at least. “Show us why you are here.”
The Eskandish man got his hammer and chisel ready, standing tall and proud before the pouncy Perrench as he easily towers over them. He shouts over to one of the assistants before addressing the noble, “Bring me th' coo”. As the animal is brought into sight, he turns to look down towards Étienne. “Boy, we are the land of the Snowsweeper, and I am a true wolf-feeder. You don’t stab this magnificent beast with a wound-hoe or shoot it with wound-bees, as it seeps with its corpse-milk.
Thorin moves over to the dairy cow offered for his demonstration as he shouts in some Eskandish, as moves to stroke his hands along the cow's head, speaking towards it gently in a relaxing manner. “Animals, when frightened, can ruin meat. It needs to be relaxed and you work with precision.” The cow looks rather content and unaware of its surrounding situation as it was being fed. Thorin gives the nod as he moves towards the back of the animal, moving the chisel along the base of the skull. He draws upon magnetic magic as he causes a sharp electric current to project into the cow along the chisel to stun the creature, then using his hammer, smashes the chisel into the back of the skull, killing it cleanly and quickly. “Meat now succulent. Now we celebrate with a pool of malt.”, he cheers as he uses his impressive strength to chop the creature up and hoist the animal up onto a hook.
“If it wasn’t so savage, I might have thought I was just witnessing you, dear Frédérique”, his lips twist as he smiles towards his sister. “Always so kind, brother.”, as she smiles back towards him, her eyes for a moment telling him a different story. Étienne does look rather impressed with the result, the man seems to know a thing or two about meat for a barbarian, making a mark against his name for consideration.
Frédérique moves along to the next on the list, her eyes looking up and down upon Zarina’s form. “Would you be Lady Al-Nader?”, offering the girl an overly sweet pleasant smile. Étienne moves up alongside his sister, looking upon the cleaned surface with boiling water, herbs, spices, and other things, “la demoiselle, the cooks are in the next room. I don’t want to see a girl like yourself around all these butchers and sharp implements getting hurt.”
Zarina perks up at the call of her name. She is just about ready to give a steaming display to the audience by dunking the carcass into boiling water, allowing for aromas to permeate the air with a variety of colors, courtesy of the spices and colorants she added to the solution, “Hmmm? That would be me, yeah.” the butcher-ready Virangish worker turns to acknowledge the twins. Etienne added his own unwarranted comment as she let the cow's body dive into the hot tank.
“There's a girl almost half my size in the next room that's also butchering,” she claims as she tugs on the chain with her kinetic magic to hoist the scalded body up. The steam is indeed quick colorful and the smells invoked strong spices from the North, “I'll be fine.” she grins confidently, with two carving knives on her palms. With a deep breath, she makes the carcass spin at medium speed while still hanging from he chain, allowing her to elegantly swing her blade whilst circling the hanging piece of meat. Precise cuts enhanced by her Kinetic magic made the skin just loose enough to fall after a final swipe to the unhooked hoof. A fully exposed cow carcass, with the head quickly lopped off along with the hooves with the exception of the hooked foot. Zarina adopts a pose and bows, “Next, I will be selecting three quality cuts.”
For a moment she pauses to acknowledge her audience, and then she points right at Etienne, “You.” she raises her chin, “Show me the cuts you wish to have served.” she smirks, “Unless you're afraid of a little blood and guts, of course.” and just as she says that, a deep cut she had made to the abdomen of the corpse opens up, with the innards seamlessly pouring into a bucket under it. All very clean, the audience did not have to see them for more than a second.
Étienne gives a wide grin as he finds himself interested in this Vigrandish girl as he eyes her figure. I wonder if she is this feisty in bed. He approaches the carcass as he points towards the sides of the spine. ”You may serve me Filet Mignon. Though I like to treat the servants well, so cut me a Ribeye and Porterhouse for them.”. It is not unexpected for a man of his pedigree to demand the rarest and most choice cut of the beef. It doesn’t bode well for the Snowsweeper.
Frédérique gives her brother a glance as she recognises the beef isn’t the flank of meat he is interested in. Étienne is unable to filter out that disgust directed towards him completely. Being a twin can be a curse in moments like this.
Zarina checks out the pieces that are requested. Butchering isn't her specialty - far from it - but she is the only one in the team with concrete experience. So she goes for it, “Very well.” her fingers hover the appropriate knife, but before actually seizing it, she actually takes the twig and snaps it, “Do you expect an actual steak for your meal, dear guest?” she turns to face Etienne, hands behind her back, and posture straight.
Étienne smiles as he looks towards Frédérique, ”I think a cut for my dear sister and myself is in order.” He aims to soothe some of that unpleasantness in the connection they share.
As the stick is snapped, there is silence for a moment as it appears nothing happened, then a music beat started. The twins looked around to see who was making the sound, along with some of the other guests who were mumbling. Only person not completely surprised was the one who activated the trigger herself.
It seemed as if almost on cue, the music began as the castanets started clapping. Zarina is prepared.
There it is, the quick succession of cord notes that serve as a prelude to a spicy theme from home. Right as the percussions start, Zarina draws both her carving knives, raising them over her head in a Y stance before she slightly tilts her body, right foot forward and flexed to have it stand on the ball of her foot and toes. And then she starts!
A breeze brushes by the guests and all the viewers that curiously peeked in Zarina's quarters. Empowered by her keen grasp of Kinetic Magic and the air filled with aromas from the brew she had been making combined with her chemical magic, she got to work. The Ribeye first. Her footwork is discreet as she was wearing but light, dancing shoes, all emphasized as she circled her carcass. The ribs were her target, and she make sure to properly isolate them, before carving them up in singular, precise slashes. They were the easiest, as the bones essentially draw the lines for her. The next was the porterhouse, and she has to be careful to not sever the tenderloin. She holds herself on one leg, the other fully flexed with the sole of her shoe pressed to her knee. And then, with a new knife in hand, she perform a quick jab and then a tugged downward to get the right cut.
All of it resembled a dance, with Zarina adding unnecessary waves of her arms and pauses to pose. When she gets a piece, she makes a point to quickly turn to her audience, blades extended and the steaks presented to them in a row of plates she had set up. Finally comes the Filet Mignon. She needs the Tenderloin she had been careful to preserve. [1:50] She does aim for the cut itself, but instead proceeds to chop down all the other bits that could be served up. Each piece is part of her dance, and eventually, with the tenderloin fully isolated, she perform a final, closing slash. The two pieces of meat rest onto of her knife, stacked, as she bows to her audience.
“A Tenderloin for My Lord and Lady, each.”
Étienne claps to the beat of the music as the girl twirls around in front of him. Frédérique, despite a desire to dislike the girl, cannot help but be impressed by the performance.
What before them was something most certainly unique, butchery to music. Some of the competition simply walked out in protest at the judges reaction, others that they feel they cannot compete at such a level. It was almost as if Zarina was having the judges eating out of her hand if she had cooked the steak as it was served to them.
Frédérique led the clap at the end of the performance as blue rose petals fell around the girl who well and truly stole the attention away from the room. ”Fantastique”. Étienne handed Zarina two notes as he took his sister's arm, guiding her towards the competition who were fleeing from the pair.
Nia showed an incredible display with her sword work as the metal sliced and dices upon the flesh. Her honed swordplay was certainly better than Zarina’s own, but without the music and fanfare, it just seemed to pale in comparison. Destined to be second best as always.
The Huulendamn boy chose venison as his choice of cut. He was able to expertly skin the creature, showing great masterwork and consideration of that of a practised gamehunter. His knife peeling away the layers like they were nothing. Except this competition was no longer based on skill, but who can do the prettiest dancing. After the unimpressed boredom upon the judges faces, he lowers the tools and leave.
The Eskandish Beserker, Thorrin was the only other to get a ‘passing grade’ after Zarina’s performance. The man swept his blonde hair to the side as he looks upon the cuts at the end. “Sloppy. Perhaps you’ll be a dancer as I work the meat.”
Anna looks a little deflated afterwards but cheered on Zarina during her dancing.
Zarina looks down at the notes within her hands. The first is recognition of her passing the judges inspection, the other is… an address. “Baignes-toi et viens ici ce soir" bathe and come here tonight.
With her ploy delivering greatly, Zarina takes the time to prepare different plates to be delivered to Ingrid. Given what has been said, she figures making more than one dish is the way to go. She sends the following:
-Tenderloin, Makes a Filet Mignon typical dish -Ribeye make something fancy. -Make Bourgignon with with Porterhouse meat. -Not Eskandish
Then comes the note for her. She raises a brow as she reads, "Fucking Prenchies." she shakes her head, and goes to witness Ingrid's work.
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