Race: the new nameless humanoid species
Gender: Female
Age: biological - around 21 in human years; actual(?) - almost half a year (?).
Background: protege of a natural science scholar, unknown origins
Status: Healthy
Perk(s): "Follow the white cat" - you have a moody guiding spirit at your side who can boost your spirit aspect advancement should you get on its better side (+1 spirit arcane charge point after passing hard charisma attribute check (18)), expect its occasional interference.
"No one is an island" - you get 1 + n bonus to all social influence skills and CHA rolls when applied to teammates, where n is the number of steps of the target's affection tier beyond neutral (applies to both positive and negative affection dimensions). Additionally, get +3 to the mentioned bonuses if Amalia is around and can provide quick advice. Passive effect: unearth more insights on followers.
"It's in my blood" - you get a permanent +1 bonus to Intelligence and +1 to arcane skill. Actions that train arcane aspects have a 1/6 chance to double the yields unless the base earning equals or exceeds one full level. You are more prone to magic-related actions and thoughts. You might find it harder to resist the allure of magic in some situations.
Attributes
Base value
Modified value
Total value
Dice bonus
Strength
9
9
4
Constitution
16
16
11
Mobility
10
(+2 cond.)
10 (12 cond.)
5 (7 cond.)
Perception
11
11
6
Coordination
14
14
9
Micromotorics
13
13
8
Intellect
18(+1/3)
18
13
Wisdom
17
17
12
Charisma
20
20
15
Luck
4
4
4
Misfortune
2
2
2
Skill
Attribute value
Learned value
Modified value
Dice bonus
Melee combat
1
4
5
Ranged combat
2
2
Arcane skill
7
7
(+1 cnd.day)
14 (15 cnd.day)
Defense
3
4
1 (+2 cnd.w.)
8 (10 cnd.w.)
Objects usage
2
2
Mounted combat
3
3
Willpower
7
1
8
Balance
2
(+2 cnd.w.)
2 (4 cnd.w.)
Sneaking
3
3
Reconnaissance
5
1
6
Persuasion
10
2
12
Intimidation
6
6
Haggle
7
7
Performance
8
8
Seduction
8
8
Geography lore
7
2
9
Nature lore
7
1
8
Arcane lore
7
5
12
Social and cultural lore
9
2
11
Craft lore
7
2
9
Lingual lore
9
9
Daily craft
6
2
8
Pharma and treatment
7
3
10
Weaponsmithing
4
4
Armorsmithing
6
6
Tailoring
7
2
9
Art
7
7
Artificery
6
1
7
Burglary
5
5
Huntsmanship
4
4
Alchemy
7
7
Sorcery
7
7
Flight and wing-related traits
Wings skill level
13
Flight mastery level
advanced
Normal speed
above average, can forcefully accelerate to considerably fast
Maximum range
considerably far, anywhere up to twenty-eight kilometers.
Maximum height
considerably high (up to 250 meters)
Maximum extra lifting weight
low (10 kg)
Balance
above average, withstands weather and can try to regain without landing
dodge extra propulsion, posing, enhanced balance, enhanced surface acceleration, shielding with wings
#1) Thaumaturgy level 7 (6/7 to level 8):
You can sense the activity of the entropic aspects within ~1000 meters radius, and unusual concentration/malfunction of other aspects within ~200 meters radius.
You have gained the permanent +1 bonus to constitution
You have gained the permanent +1 bonus to wisdom
You regain mental strengths a little bit faster during the daytime.
Using thaumaturgy during the daytime requires less mental and physical effort.,
You can allegedly see prophetic dreams
You can temporarily nullify magic in ~30 meters radius or in a 45 meters-long 30' cone a few times a day, or emit an anti-magic field up to ~15 meters radius a few times a day.
you can temporarily amplify the aspects power around you once a day
you can temporarily amplify or suppress the aspects power of a target up to two times a day
You can try to scan surrounding areas for traces of planar breaching with very high odds to succeed and sense the short residue of extraplanar entities.
You can conjure light on the basic level (sparks, flashes, rays)
You can shape light on the basic level (flash explosions, molding into orbs, luminal barriers, luminal domes, wedges of solidified light, sparks strike)
You passively gain +1 to arcane skill when exposed to the sun but also get -1 to arcane skill at night AND in dark places.
#2) Spirit level 7:
You are able of an advanced Nether-realm vision
You can assess the memory traces of objects and entities via nether-realm vision and tactile contact
You can sense soul sparks in ~75 meters radius
You can sense the sparks of the living, undead, minor spiritual beings, bound spirits, phantasms, genius loci, and some other spirits
You can sense concentrations of the Limbus energies, the thickness of the barrier, and traces of spirits from the material plane
You have gained the permanent +1 bonus to perception
You have gained the permanent +1 bonus to wisdom
You can scan the target's soul characteristics and receive advanced-depth results
You can try to smite a spirit
You can try to disperse a spirit
You can try to temporarily bind or scare off a singular lesser spiritual being
You can communicate with discovered spiritual beings
#3) ~Open affinity slot~
Your journal, a comfortable set of clothes, a plain dress, a custom-made set of lightened composite armor, an arming sword ("Holly"), a high-quality rondel ("Mercy"), a decorative blue ribbon, a silver necktie with a bounded spirit, superb leather harness.
Capable of crudely repairing clothes, making basic tailoring items like belts and patches, and producing low-effort/cost items like stuffed toys. Capable of applying first aid to prevent bleeding. Knows how to make and disinfect bandageware.
Ulren Kyres (aka Ren, aka Mountain boy)
Race: Bhiroth
Gender: Male
Age: 68
Background: mercenary, former soldier, outcast
Status: Healthy
Perk(s): "Not on my watch, not again" - shields Lucy from considerable harm in combat situations at own expense.
"I promise you that" - when in the same group as Lucifina, will make the second set of saving rolls to avoid critical health conditions.
"Odd kind of friendship" - when Ulren and Sephorah are fighting crowd-controllable enemies (not giants, flying creatures, etc.) in the same team, the one who makes the lowest total offensive or defensive score out of two can reroll that offensive or defensive roll set (only the highest score counts).
Attributes
Base value
Modified value
Total value
Dice bonus
Strength
21
+1
22
17
Constitution
21
+1
22
17
Mobility
14
-1
13
8
Perception
12
12
7
Coordination
15
15
10
Micromotorics
13
13
8
Intellect
14
14
9
Wisdom
18
18
13
Charisma
9
9
4
Luck
2
2
2
Misfortune
2
2
2
Skill
Attribute value
Learned value
Modified value
Total value / Dice bonus
Melee combat
9
9
18
Ranged combat
5
5
10
Arcane skill
6
6
Defense
10
10
20
Objects usage
6
3
9
Mounted combat
8
8
Willpower
6
-3
3
Balance
7
7
Sneaking
4
-5
-1
Reconnaissance
5
4
9
Persuasion
4
4
Intimidation
9
9
Haggle
3
3
Performance
3
3
Seduction
5
5
Geography lore
6
5
11
Nature lore
6
3
9
Arcane lore
6
6
Social and cultural lore
5
5
Craft lore
6
6
12
Lingual lore
5
5
Daily craft
6
4
10
Pharma and treatment
5
2
7
Weaponsmithing
6
6
12
Armorsmithing
6
6
12
Tailoring
3
3
Art
4
4
Artificery
5
7
12
Burglary
4
4
Huntsmanship
5
2
7
Alchemy
6
6
Sorcery
6
6
Unknown, but he demonstrated feats of great balance, stability, and hardiness. Perhaps, he might have an undiscovered arcane aspect bound.
A very worn half-plate armor set, worn set of clothes, a glaive, mechanical mace with spare heads, heater shield, hand crossbow, one quiver of bolts, enchanted amulet (+1 STR +1 CON - MOB)
Semi-proficient in the daily craft. Adept in smithing (martial-level weapons and armor). Proficient in artificiery (lesser contraptions). Expert in picking/maintaining war gear, and capable of minor mechanical upgrades of such. Knows the basics of hunting and skinning.
Sephorah of house Terphor (aka Seph, aka Sephie, aka Princess)
"Odd kind of friendship" - when Ulren and Sephorah are fighting crowd-controllable enemies (not giants, flying creatures, etc.) in the same team, the one who makes the lowest total offensive or defensive score out of two can reroll that offensive or defensive roll set (only the highest score counts).
Attributes
Base value
Modified value
Total value
Dice bonus
Strength
15
15
10
Constitution
15
15
10
Mobility
16
16
11
Perception
14
14
9
Coordination
18
18
13
Micromotorics
12
12
7
Intellect
14
14
9
Wisdom
12
12
7
Charisma
18
18
13
Luck
2
2
2
Misfortune
2
2
2
Skill
Attribute value
Learned value
Modified value
Total value / Dice bonus
Melee combat
7
6
1
14
Ranged combat
4
4
Arcane skill
4
4
Defense
6
5
2
13
Objects usage
4
5
9
Mounted combat
7
7
Willpower
4
4
Balance
8
8
16
Sneaking
7
8
15
Reconnaissance
4
4
8
Persuasion
6
5
11
Intimidation
7
7
Haggle
6
2
8
Performance
6
7
13
Seduction
8
7
15
Geography lore
4
4
Nature lore
4
4
Arcane lore
4
4
Social and cultural lore
5
6
11
Craft lore
3
3
Lingual lore
5
5
Daily craft
3
2
5
Pharma and treatment
4
4
Weaponsmithing
4
4
Armorsmithing
4
4
Tailoring
5
5
Art
5
5
Artificery
3
3
Burglary
4
6
10
Huntsmanship
6
6
Alchemy
4
4
Sorcery
4
4
Unknown if any. No signs of her having seeds of arcane aspects bound so far.
A set of clothes and undergarments, a superb set of compositive medium armor (manticore materials), a superb leather harness for bags and tools, a qualitative longsword "Ember", a parrying dagger, a quiver of tossing knives, a kit with burglar's tools.
You suspect she's incapable of legal manual labor aside from the bare basics of daily routines.
Karl Norskov (aka Mage, aka 'that' mage)
Race: Human (unknown heritage)
Gender: Male
Age: appears to be in the late thirties to early forties
Background: elementalist mage, major arcane enthusiast, disowned son of a noble family.
Status: Healthy
Perk(s):
"Old habits die hard" - when making an offensive arcane skill roll in combat and getting less or equal to four, reroll it (only the highest score counts). This perk also applies to combat rounds where Karl makes an arcane skill roll only for the defensive score.
Attributes
Base value
Modified value
Total value
Dice bonus
Strength
11
11
6
Constitution
11
11
6
Mobility
11
11
6
Perception
13
13
8
Coordination
10
10
5
Micromotorics
16
16
11
Intellect
20
20
15
Wisdom
16
16
11
Charisma
14
14
9
Luck
2
2
2
Misfortune
2
2
2
Skill
Attribute value
Learned value
Modified value
Total value / Dice bonus
Melee combat
1
1
Ranged combat
4
4
Arcane skill
8
9
17
Defense
1
2
3
Objects usage
5
5
10
Mounted combat
2
2
Willpower
7
6
-2
11
Balance
1
1
Sneaking
2
2
Reconnaissance
6
6
Persuation
7
7
Intimidation
2
2
Haggle
5
1
6
Performance
6
6
Seduction
3
3
Geography lore
7
7
Nature lore
7
7
Arcane lore
7
9
16
Social and cultural lore
8
5
13
Craft lore
8
8
Lingual lore
8
7
15
Daily craft
8
8
Pharma and treatment
9
9
Weaponsmithing
7
7
Armorsmithing
7
7
Tailorng
8
8
Art
6
6
Artificery
8
8
Burglary
7
7
Huntsmanship
3
3
Alchemy
9
9
Sorcery
8
3
11
#1) Conflagration and radiation level 7:
You have gained the permanent +1 bonus to strength.
You have gained the permanent +1 bonus to intellect.
Your casting in dry weather or nearby fire sources amplifies pyromancy.
You can regain mental strengths faster near the heat sources.
You can sense and read the heat sources in a vast area.
You can channel the arcane powers to temporarily amplify own physical strength.
Your spellcasting uses both mental and physical strengths or the varying proportions of such.
You can temporarily infuse objects (including tools and weapons) with pyromancy powers.
You can conjure heat on the intermediate level (sufficient to melt iron)
You can suppress and channel heat on the intermediate level (rays, waves, charges, orbs, tactile)
You passively gain +1 to arcane skill for every 3 points of STR above 10. This trait also applies -1 penalty to arcane skill for every 2 points of STR below 10. Does not apply in the case of arcane self-empowerment.
A worn set of travel clothes, a backpack, a grimoire (or a diary), an old pocket chornometer with a chain, an intricate smoking pipe
None you know about
Amalia Brant (aka Lia)
Race: Human (Eastlander)
Gender: Female
Age: Young adult
Background: Former maidservant
Status: Healthy
Perk(s): "Shipper on deck" - +3 To all social skill rolls against the companions with positive affection levels (neutrality affection level excluded). If previously gossiped with about other characters that she knows, can provide a one-time boost of +3 to all types of social interaction skill rolls to the requester.
Attributes
Base value
Modified value
Total value
Dice bonus
Strength
12
12
7
Constitution
15
15
10
Mobility
11
11
6
Perception
16
16
11
Coordination
12
12
7
Micromotorics
18
18
13
Intellect
12
12
7
Wisdom
20
20
15
Charisma
11
11
6
Luck
2
2
2
Misfortune
2
2
2
Skill
Attribute value
Learned value
Modified value
Total value / Dice bonus
Melee combat
2
2
Ranged combat
7
3
10
Arcane skill
5
5
Defense
4
1
5
Objects usage
7
3
10
Mounted combat
4
4
Willpower
8
3
11
Balance
2
2
Sneaking
4
4
Reconnaissance
7
7
Persuasion
5
5
Intimidation
4
4
Haggle
5
4
9
Performance
6
6
Seduction
3
3
Geography lore
8
2
10
Nature lore
8
8
Arcane lore
8
8
Social and cultural lore
6
2
8
Craft lore
8
3
11
Lingual lore
6
6
Daily craft
8
10
18
Pharma and treatment
7
7
Weaponsmithing
6
6
Armorsmithing
6
6
Tailoring
5
9
14
Art
7
3
10
Artificery
8
8
Burglary
7
7
Huntsmanship
7
7
Alchemy
7
7
Sorcery
6
6
Uknown if any
Leather camisole of fair quality, compositive crossbow, a quiver of bolts, a bag of small tools, a rucksack, a set of road clothes, a plain cloak, a knife, a belt water bag.
Master of daily craft and inventory management. Fairly good cook (specializes in fried snacks) and knows how to correctly ration different foods. Good tailor, capable of qualitative repair of clothes and production of professional effort/materials goods like suits and dresses. Her designs lean towards practicality rather than fanciness.
Isaac
Race: Human (unknown heritage)
Gender: Male
Age: Young adult
Background: Healer apprentice
Status: Healthy
Perk(s): "We are of one blood" - Any non-hostile actions towards animals or beast folk have +4 bonus to attributes or skill rolls. Can use WIS instead of CHA for interactions with animals and beast folk (aka empathetic approach).
Attributes
Base value
Modified value
Total value
Dice bonus
Strength
13
13
8
Constitution
15
15
10
Mobility
12
12
7
Perception
14
14
9
Coordination
10
10
5
Micromotorics
17
17
12
Intellect
15
15
10
Wisdom
14
14
9
Charisma
7
7
2
Luck
2
2
2
Misfortune
2
2
2
Skill
Attribute value
Learned value
Modified value
Total value / Dice bonus
Melee combat
2
-5
-3
Ranged combat
5
-5
0
Arcane skill
6
6
12
Defense
4
1
5
Objects usage
6
-5
1
Mounted combat
3
-7
-4
Willpower
5
7
12
Balance
2
2
Sneaking
2
2
Reconnaissance
5
5
Persuasion
1
1
Intimidation
3
3
Haggle
1
1
Performance
2
2
Seduction
1
1
Geography lore
5
5
Nature lore
5
2
7
Arcane lore
5
5
10
Social and cultural lore
3
3
Craft lore
6
6
Lingual lore
3
3
Daily craft
6
3
9
Pharma and treatment
6
7
13
Weaponsmithing
6
6
Armorsmithing
7
7
Tailoring
5
5
Art
4
4
Artificery
7
7
Burglary
7
7
Huntsmanship
3
3
Alchemy
6
6
Sorcery
5
5
#1) Body level 5:
You can sense breathing and blood pulse of living entities in ~100 meters radius.
You gain the permanent +1 bonus to constitution.
You gain the permanent +1 bonus to charisma
You can scan the detailed physiological state of a target in many details including sicknesses, inflammations, as well as the state of physical integrity.
You can make an attempt for a minuscule boost of the physical performance of oneself or a target at the cost of own mental strengths.
You can accelerate the metabolism (and so, often times, the recovery from ailments or traumas) of living creatures at the cost of own mental and physical strengths.
You can try to numb the minor pain of a target living creature at the cost of both mental and physical strengths or share it with yourself with the low transference loss ratio
A robe with a hood, a bag with bandages and medications, an old iron amulet, a belt with tincures
Good at applying and synthesizing remedies. Capable of providing first and complex medical aid. Has some skills in inventory management.
Jorgen Ostgard (aka Jory, aka Craven)
Race: Human (Lyflander?)
Gender: Male
Age: Young adult
Background: Alchemist assistant
Status: Healthy
Attributes
Base value
Modified value
Total value
Dice bonus
Strength
11
11
6
Constitution
11
11
6
Mobility
12
12
7
Perception
18
18
13
Coordination
12
12
7
Micromotorics
15
15
10
Intellect
16
16
11
Wisdom
13
13
8
Charisma
9
9
4
Luck
2
2
2
Misfortune
2
2
2
Skill
Attribute value
Learned value
Modified value
Total value / Dice bonus
Melee combat
2
2
Ranged combat
6
1
7
Arcane skill
5
5
Defense
2
2
Objects usage
6
4
10
Mounted combat
3
3
Willpower
6
6
Balance
2
2
Sneaking
5
4
9
Reconnaissance
7
5
12
Persuation
2
2
Intimidation
1
1
Haggle
3
3
Performance
2
2
Seduction
1
1
Geography lore
6
6
Nature lore
6
4
10
Arcane lore
6
3
9
Social and cultural lore
4
4
Craft lore
5
6
11
Lingual lore
4
4
Daily craft
5
3
8
Pharma and treatment
6
6
Weaponsmithing
5
5
Armorsmithing
5
5
Tailoring
5
5
Art
3
3
Artificery
6
6
Burglary
7
7
Huntsmanship
6
6
Alchemy
6
6
12
Sorcery
6
6
Unknown if any
A robe with a hood, a traveling cane, a bag with small instruments, a belt with glasses, a rucksack
Good at synthesizing remedies or other compounds from both organic and inorganic ingredients. Fairly good at understanding how chemistry works and has an eye for experimentation. Capable of locating and recognizing substances. Has basic skills in inventory management and knows a thing or two about craftworks.
General condition:High morale, everyone's healthy, two weeks worth of food supplies, sufficiently-budgeted, low on alchemic reagents. Money: 1081 Talers Food: 82 food units (9 full days of sustenance on Bloom 28) Food consumption: 8.5 food units per day
[x] Custom plan: "A gentle guide for those living and not"
[X] Plan Familial Bonding
Sorry it's been awhile because work has been slogging me down but I will the I like the later for pursuing more magic and soon the sweet Holy Swords to throw at people and getting Karl the help he needs and the latter because it acknowledges that it is prime time to talk with our resident baby man, Jory. I just want to see him grow and be happy, so he can finally be given a bone. Also the latter plan still helps Karl.
It's not to help her relationship with Ulren, which is important as this is the time to talk to her about him. It has been indicated in this chapter that we should talk to her about Ulren,
Seph's soul spark slinked into the barn. Ulren's heavy sigh of annoyance concluded the dialog. It made you feel somewhat guilty: he was obviously sticking to the earlier promise to try to get along with Sephorah, and with undeniable diligence, at that. But the daeva did not seem to adjust to it just yet, continuing to poke him out of selfish amusement. Perhaps, she's overdue for the second attempt for a talk on this issue.
If we are to talk to Sephora, then it would be best for us to use the opportunity to end her and Ulren's animosity towards one another once and for all. That plan's choice in the conversation topic for Sephora is the main thing about that plan that concerns me.
Fragment of conversation with Amalia Brant on 12 Bloom of the year 1469
"Saints? You do realize that I am a storyteller - not a priestess or theologian, right? I may know some snippets and stories about those whom the Highfather's church considers saints, but, please, don't you ever treat this type of story as legends in front of the believers - little rattles them more than the assumption of their faith not being absolute truth. Deal? Nice.
So, back to the topic - what or who are saints in the first place, you may ask. And the answer would be simple and, at the same time, pretty vague; saints or sainthood is a rank given to prominent figures within the Olfadirian religion, also known as the Highfather's cult. This bar of this "prominency" shifted over time, but, in all times, the consensus pointed to the necessity to perform a wonder of the divine origin to obtain it, which upsets plenty o' ambitious church functionaries. People often think that sainthood status is a product of the Pherinian empire, but that's just a widespread mistake because the Highfather religion existed long before the landers' exodus to the Pheotor and establishment of Pherin. Ancient yrslanders practiced this cult before it became centralized and grew far and wide, and one of the earliest saints still remembered nowadays lived in that era.
The prime example would be Tordis the Deep-thoughted. She is still known - if not popular - in the independent from the Olfadir state kingdoms with the Highfather's faithful majorities. The canonical Highfather church of Olfadir prefers not to acknowledge her at all; maybe because she was a woman, or perhaps because they don't want to admit that the cult did not start with the westlanders after the great migration.
But that's irrelevant to the topic; what matters is her story, which began deep into the Yrsengard lands, back in the days when it was warmer, the clans were plenty, and the continent was home to most of humanity. She is described as an awkward kid, rarely at peace, always lost in musings, and at times startled from signs and omens no one else could see or interpret. To her parents' woe, she was their only child and, given her aloof temper, marrying her off was challenging. Many versions of what had happened to her family exist: from them falling to famine to being slain by wildlings. Yet what matters is that she ended up living alone as a hunter not far from the Grathofd mountain - a legendary landmark from the pagan time.
The body of her myth states that during one hungry year, when neither roots nor berries fruited sufficiently, she got covered by a savage blizzard during a hunt. She was hungry, tired, and cold, thinking it would be her end, but that was not what fate had in store for her: it is said that the emissary of Highfather descended from the Grafthofd and took the form of a living pillar of fire. It banished the blizzard, warmed her, and thawed the snows so she could pick the wintering wild grains. In return, it demanded she spread the message of the colossal snowstorm coming, bound to snuff out life from the human tribes should they not escape or prepare.
As you can figure out, she indeed agreed, moving to the southern settlements the same year and preaching the impending doom. Some listened to her - likely finding justification to the streak of poor years, but the majority chased her away, unwilling to fancy the idea of something as dreadful. But neither stones, sticks, or hounds stopped her: she went as far as breaking into the chieftains' gathering when the tribes sent their warlords to hold a council. But the only treatment she got from them was disdain. One of the chieftains even shot an arrow at her. But then, it is told that Highfather sent down a divine beast - either a two-headed dragon or a giant, two-headed falcon, who shielded her from the arrow with the gust of wind from under its wings. Awestruck, the warlords had little chance but to listen to her message. But even then, only a half of the clans heeded her warning. This revelation is believed to be what sprung the great migration of ancient people to Pheotor.
But her mission did not end there: after fulfilling her promise, it is believed that the Highfather himself visited her dream, granting her with the gift of seeing the future and speaking his will. And after that, she became one of the exodus leaders, standing at the forefront of the great flotilla and directing it towards the virgin lands. After the migrants beached on the northern shores of Pheotor, the tribes spread out, claiming the ripe lands. Tordis - now a wise, respected woman with a significant following - established her own tribe. What is funny is that half of the human states, including Lyf and my lesser homeland Lothar, claim her to be the progenitor of their - and no one else's - kingdoms. A stunning life path for a humble, lonely girl from some backwater and a pretty lesson regarding the promise-keeping, don't you think?
But, despite her historical influence, the most famous saint of all is Aethlig. Sure, you remember all the statues dedicated to him and the plaza named in his honor back in Kirhol, right? He's so celebrated in Lyf because he hailed from the early Lyf kingdom. Little is known about his family - some versions suggest he was an orphan, while the most fantastical ones consider him to be a son of Highfather - a demigod sent to the people of that era to bring them salvation. However, the most common and down-to-earth theory suggests that he was a son of a fisherman and a seamstress.
But back to the "salvation" part - Aethlig lived in tumultuous times when the tribes of men gathered into multiple petty kingdoms. They routinely emerged, struck situational alliances, warred against each other, and collapsed only to reemerge a few decades later. No such things as laws, regular epidemics, nigh-permanent famines, monsters, and unceasing warfare - nigh-total chaos, in a word. And, in the times like that, saint Aethlig began his march from Lyf towards the Obsidian Tower in the very western heartlands.
The scriptures tell that just like Tordis, he saw Highfather in his dreams, and the deity bestowed him with a mission to unite the straying and unruly human kingdoms in his name. Along with this mission, the god presented Aethlig with a token of his powers under the condition that he would live his life and propagate the code of virtues - a set of general rules akin to "thou shan't steal," "thou shan't perjure" and such. And that's precisely what Aethlig did in his journey. There are like thirty-six canonical deeds ranging from banishing malicious spirits with holy fires and slaughtering savage monsters with sky-bound lances to resolving wars between bitter warlords and preventing disasters by foreseeing the future. As for the lesser deeds, which exist as small, most likely invented stories featuring this man, their count goes to tens of dozens, with nearly every human realm having a few of their own stories about this saint.
As you might have predicted, a heroic figure like this would quickly accumulate a sizable following of supporters, consisting of disciples, patrons, gracious people, and just those who believed in Aethlig's holy mission and wanted to be a part of something grandiose. This following grew faster the closer he approached the Obsidian Tower by the time of reaching which, most of the petty kingdoms united under the Highfather's gonfalon. He departed his homeland alone but arrived at the future heart of humankind's civilization with an entire army and the support of five great dynasties - the founding pentarchy. Those houses were: Telarons, Rorks, Keizemeres, Ansons, and Lydons.
These houses, united by the code of virtues and dedicated to spreading it to all corners of the world, became the core of the newly-born Pherin empire. Saint Aethilig, according to the plan of the divine, set down the foundation of the empire by dividing power onto the civic and the clerical ones. The noble houses ruled the realm and provided their finest as pretenders to the throne. At the same time, the clergy stood stalwart of the adherence to the Highfather's laws, solved disputes of the highborn, and elected new emperors among the finest nobles. And this is how the mightiest lander state in the recorded history was created. Exhaustively justifies the man's popularity, isn't it?
As for Saint Aethlig himself, just like the stories of his origins, his latter years are widely disputed. Twelve years after accomplishing his mission, some say that the Highfather took him to his abode in the skies. Another theory says that he proceeded to pass his sacred blood into the lineages of each of the pentarchy houses. The most ominous legend says that when Highfather showed himself to Aethlig and asked what he desired as a reward, the saint asked not of fortunes or power but of the true knowledge of the world. When the deity granted it to him, it proved too much for the man to bear, breaking his psyche and turning him into a hermit who spent his last years writing prophecies and wandering the world. They say that the greater a person is, the harder it is to learn the truth about them. Saint Aethlig is a perfect example of this, no?.
But not all saints are as embellished with unverifiable details as saint Aethlig. The second most famous saint of all - Saint Axios, also known as the patron saint of all the Highfather's soldiers - is a well-recorded historical figure. He lived in the middle to late period of the Pherin Empire, when it saw its decline due to the malfunction of the original power structure. The clergy began to gain too many ambitions and develop a strong taste for power, using the civil houses as pawns in their squabbles. These developments corroded the unity and strength of the state, seducing the Alberon Dominion - also known as the early Alvizian empire - to solve the "lander invaders' question" once and for all by reclaiming the lands they occupied before the yrslanders great exodus. The first great Human - Alvizian war came about. It wasn't the first conflict between these species, but it got its "first great" adjective due to its grand scale and the prediction of its recurrence. Unfortunately, this prediction came true.
But anyway, saint Axios was but a humble soldier of the Pherin army - the son of a blacksmith father and a shepherd mother. Even though he was told to be quite formidable physically, his true strength came from the miracles akin to your light-bending. When asked how or where he got it, the man just said, "from my faith." Regardless, he performed many feats of valor like defending a bridge against a hundred Alberon's infantrymen, smiting wedges of their cavalry, saving entire formations from hostile archers arrows, and turning enemy mage's spells against them. Axios earned the status of a hero even before his finest hour - the battle of the Auburn Falls. There, he and a dozen of his most loyal comrades broke through to the base of alvizians where their generals and the high arcanists' guard was. Even though the odds were against them, Axios called upon the power of Highfather and banished all the magic from the region, robbing the knife-ears of their main advantage. In that daring charge, the command of Alberonians was slaughtered, beheading their army and turning the tide in Pherinians' favor. After that battle, the war's course was decided, and alvizians had to soon abandon their claim.
But Axiose's story did not end there: not seeking fortunes, glory, or earthly delights, the man proceeded with defending the realm further, establishing new knightly orders to hunt down beasts, evildoers, and infidels alike. The legend says that when saint Axios grew so old that he could barely lift his sword and move in his armor, he went out to the garden of the Charlensbourgh's church, raised his hands to the skies, and cried to Highfather a single question - if the god saw his duty complete. In an answer, a pillar of sacred fire broke up from the ground and lifted Axios into the skies. They say that the vestiges of that pyre are forever burning in that very spot until this day. Saint Axiose's figure is indeed inspiring and serves as a paragon of such virtues as honor, fortitude, bravery, and relentlessness, but, unfortunately, westlanders waged not-so-just wars in the name of this saint, among which were the Olfadir-Rhathonian wars. It is sad how high ideals can be twisted to serve ill purposes and lead to downfall, discrediting their original meaning.
But... Oh. Oh my. Sorry: I've got carried away a little. I didn't intend to take so much of your time. Perhaps, if you would still be interested, I'll go into more details on another occasion~."
[X] Plan Familial Bonding
-[X] The sense of self-proof, accomplishment, and familial endorsement.
-[X] Seek out Mia's help to learn interactions with soul sparks and spirits at large (hard (18) Charisma check for -2 to incompetency, ???)
-[X] Study Karl's condition more, catalog and compare to your yesterday insights regarding voidlings' sparks properties (-1 to incompetency, ???)
-[X] Go shopping and information gathering with Sephorah and Amalia.
-[X] Targeted skill training
--[X] Persuasion
--[X] Defense
-[X] Try bonding with someone
--[X] Sephorah
---[X] Try having a talk on how she views and treats Ulren.
--[X] Isaac
---[X] Thank him for the job he's been doing, inquire about his life before this trip.
--[X] Jory
---[X] Inquire him on how he is holding up after the cursed valley. Ask him why he wants to see local witch-doctors
If we are to talk to Sephora, then it would be best for us to use the opportunity to end her and Ulren's animosity towards one another once and for all. That plan's choice in the conversation topic for Sephora is the main thing about that plan that concerns me.
They aren't at each other's throats anymore. I'd say their "default" interpersonal trend is now mildly positive if a bit twitchy due to the cultural discrepancies and the ensuing turbulence, so you shouldn't be afraid of U snapping - he endured Seph at her worst already
...
Actually, Imma do the rolls while the boss ain't around yet
Karl barely resisted the worsening of his condition. The cat refuseth. Wow, just wow regarding Lucy's attempt to bond with Seph. If Ren lived among us, his favorite PC game series would've been Monster Hunter
Will write a proper verdict for these rolls after getting home and doing all the calculations.
Karl's coof:
6 willpower roll + 7 bonus = 13 > 12 Both rolls. No deterioration, but he gets -1 to willpower for the next turn.
Lucy's buttering of Mia:
6 charisma roll + 10 bonus = 16 < 18. The cat will remain cattishly useless.
Lucy's influencing of Seph:
18 charisma roll + 10 bonus + 4 perk bonus (1 base + 3 affinity tiers) = 32 (Godly difficulty tier check)
Lucy's influencing of Isaac:
4 charisma roll + 10 bonus + 2 perk bonus (1 base + 1 affinity tiers) = 16 (normal difficulty check)
Ulren's hunt run with kherees:
17 melee roll + 16 bonus = 33 (Epic difficulty check)
13 defense roll + 19 bonus = 32 (Epic difficulty check)
5 sneaking roll - 1 bonus = 4 (Total failure)
5 reconnaisane roll + 9 bonus = 14 (Very easy difficulty check)
18 huntsmanship roll + 7 bonus = 25 (Hard difficulty check)
9 Nature lore roll + 9 bonus = 18 (Easy difficulty check)
12 ranged combat roll + 10 bonus = 22 (Normal difficulty check)
Seph's town promenade with Lia:
8 persuasion roll + 11 bonus = 19 (Easy difficulty check)
20 haggle roll + 8 bonus = 28 (Very hard difficulty check)
8 performance roll + 13 bonus = 21 (Normal difficulty check)
3 intimidation roll + 7 bonus = 10 (Elementary difficulty check)
7 social & cultural lore roll + 11 bonus = 18 (Easy difficulty check)
12 lingual lore roll + 5 bonus = 17 (Easy difficulty check)
11 seduction roll + 15 bonus = 26 (Hard difficulty check)
Lia's town promenade with Seph:
14 persuasion roll + 5 bonus = 19 (Easy difficulty check)
16 haggle roll + 9 bonus = 25 (Hard difficulty check)
8 performance roll + 6 bonus = 14 (Very easy difficulty check)
2 intimidation roll + 4 bonus = 6 (Nonsense difficulty check)
4 social & cultural lore roll + 8 bonus = 12 (Trivial difficulty check)
18 lingual lore + 6 bonus = 24 (Hard difficulty check)
Isaac's and Jory's domestic struggles:
2 willpower roll + 12 bonus = 14 (Very easy difficulty check)
3 arcane lore roll + 10 bonus = 13 (Trivial difficulty check)
17 craft lore roll + 6 bonus = 23 (Normal difficulty check)
12 daily crafy roll + 9 bonus = 21 (Normal difficulty check)
17 pharma and treatment + 12 bonus = 29 (Very hard difficulty check)
10 alchemy roll + 6 bonus = 16 (Very easy difficulty check)
Jory's and Isaac's domestic struggles:
14 willpower roll + 5 bonus = 19 (Easy difficulty check)
7 arcane lore roll + 7 bonus = 14 (Very easy difficulty check)
4 craft lore roll + 9 bonus = 13 (Trivial difficulty check)
13 daily craft roll + 7 bonus = 20 (Normal difficulty check)
13 pharma and treatment roll + 5 bonus = 18 (Easy difficulty check)
14 alchemy roll + 11 bonus = 25 (Hard difficulty check)
Verdict: Karl withstands harm once again but his defenses get even weaker. Lucy makes minor progress towards understanding how to cure Karl. and, maybe, something else She also has a nice casual chat with Isaac and utterly obliterates Sephorah with the power of cute. Ulren... wow. Just wow. Guess, he just had to steam off that suppressed aggression somehow. Seph and Amala gonna have a mercantile town stroll, which would get a little bit tragicomedic. Isaac and Jory, left alone, would hold the homefront by joining their efforts and acting as a unit. This won't save them from some trouble with Karl, but they would create some value too.
Regarding Ren's rolls, I'll just leave this here:
As for Lucy... She just loves to overwhelm people, doesn't she? Not the easiest scene to write.
So, I've promised you to make a lil' analysis of the dungeon crawl, and am I here to deliver. But before you go back to the general forum index, don't fret: it won't be as big as chapters analysis. So, *sips some fresh tea* 'ere we go.
The very beginning. It surprised me how you decided to leave Ren behind. Like, I understand that you might've wanted for Lucy to finally step out from his caring and protective shadow, but still, leaving the most experienced party member to laze around? Wow. Guess you weren't all that intimidated by the potential risks.
You've made a pretty good first investigation decision. Pretty rational allocation of talents and hence members divisioning. Shame that RNGods decided to screw over the other party. At least Lucy and the girls got some extra loot and hints. Having Lucy's luck trigger wasn't something special, but ho boy I didn't Imagine it triggering three times in a single raid. She's pretty much our darling of fortune, eh?
Again, pretty reasonable talents and party members allocation. Amalia nearly got hurt, if not for Seph, and you've effectively blocked one of the four entrances to the dungeon under the collapsed floor. It was arguably the best entry point that offered the best distance/passability/security balance. Lia got you a very powerful tool tho, to which I'll return later.
You've nearly uncovered one of the principles by which some items react to voidling shells. Speaking of, the "base chassis" of the demon's shell was the sacrificed youngest daughter of the original family. She was killed by that very knife before her memory traces got corrupted and then inhabited by a feral imp. By inhabiting her favorite doll as a conduit, it also inherited her bane - the ceremonial knife with which she was killed. But you decided not to focus on the fetish following the principle "better safe than sorry". But even then, the sacrificial dagger was a lesser missed opportunity compared to...
compared to not investigating the shoreline and discovering the grotto entrance. it was the second-best entry point that would've allowed to let Inga join you too. It was the closest entrance to the target, but you would've found yourself entangled into the fight with a whole bunch of lurks nearly immediately. It would've been an endurance fight where you would've had to focus not as much on killing hostiles faster than they kill you but on securing the party. Honestly, the well was just the "last resort" entrance, and thank god(s) you decided to take Amalia with you; without her, you would not even get the chain to descend down it.
And there comes the fight-y part. You've lucked out a great deal in the first three engagements and made some rational if risky decisions. A balance of risks and rewards one would say. Although, should Seph fail with that lockpick, I'm not sure everyone would've come out of it - most likely not Elgar. The alternative plan might've worked too - you've got the miniboss pretty low on it's shell's integrity. Should've you broken it, the demonic chunk of meat would've cracked in two autonomous parts, less dangerous and more fragile, but hindering the party facing the rising tide of lurks with debuffs. Another alternative was to camp in the collapsed corridor - a viable if slow opportunity, but here you decided to take extra risks, and it paid off. The three successful onslaught phases resulted in the initiative takeover via exploitation of momentum, pressing lurks into the full defense. And there, you well-timely decided to nab and gtfo. Also, I must admit that you handled the weapons/resources distribution pretty well, and made good use of the advantages offered. Nifty management thinking. Overall, you handled the raid pretty well, albeit not without missing some of the opportunities and complicating things with your own decisions at some points. Overall, I'd rate the dungeon crawl as B or even B+.
And here comes the part when you, by leaving Ren at home and surviving the raid with pretty good results, made Lucy prove herself in her own eyes. This is why there was a choice for one of four pretty powerful perks, which reflected your handling of the raid. Here are the bonuses of the perks that you did not choose:
- Acknowledgment of resourcefulness and Ren's pride for you: +1 to charisma, +3 to willpower, 10% chance to double the skill yields from targeted training or in-field practice, +1 to all attribute and skill rolls while Ulren is in the party and with affinity level over 70.
- Introduction to leadership: +1 to charisma, +1 to intelligence, unlocking of the new influencing actions such as rallying and usage of authority, the opening of the possibility to issue recommendations/commands for other party members in fighting or other intense situations (aka limited tactical control), and the prospect to discover the hidden strengths of other characters. This talent, just like the one you picked, is scalable and could've been upgraded.
- Luck. Plain and simple: +3 to Luck range while +1 to Misfortune range, bringing Lucy's fortune ranges to 34-40 for luck and 1-3 for misfortune. She might've become an absurdly fortunate person this way.
But in any case, that's all regarding Lucy's very first (mostly) independent adventure as a de-facto group leader. As for other news, I'm preparing a little, hopefully sweet surprise for you. That's all I'll disclose for now.
Currently, I'm drafting the next update. Slice of life - likes aren't that easy to write, but I hope to deploy the new one this weekend. And so, while you wait, I have another thing for you: the next PoV side story vote! Given the narrative situation and the latest rolls, here's what I offer:
Next side story:
[] Moby-Dick: rip and tear edition (Ulren)
[] Down with homesickness (Rosaline)
[] I don't feel so well (Karl)
[] Another character (Offer in whose shoes you'd like to walk for a bit. Can be vetoed)
-[] Specify which one (required)
--[] Specify the situation in the recent story (optional. Anything after the arrival to Tevon-Talab)
This side story will be written AFTER the next update, mind you, so you have plenty of time to make your pick.
With this, I think I'm out of news and announcements for now, so have some media chunk.
Ahoy folks. Seems like the trend of dropping updates from different places continues. The corpo dragged me to Barcelona this time, so closer to Sunday there be a payload from a yet another country.
Oh, and just to tease you, a tiiiiiny something. Looks a little out of place, isn't it? You'll see what it has to do with the thread soon.
Just as promised, I've prepped little something for you. And don't worry - the next update is on its way. I've had to remake some chunks of it for the sake of a quality boost, and I hope that you'll get the fresh slab of juicy content this weekend. But before that...
One unique thing pertains to interactive fiction: both GM and readers take part and observe the progress and life path of their entrusted character(s). In the case of this quest, it is pretty amusing to watch how readers establish their relationships with the protagonist. For many, she became a niece of sorts. Some have been around from the very beginning, where our cinnamon roll of an angel was nothing more than a cute blank slate. Since then, all of you guided her, prompting her to make decisions that eventually shaped her core personality and continue to polish her as a person. You could've made her cynical snarker, or a party animal, or a lyrical kuudere, but for better or worse, that isn't how it went. So, let's get a little overview of how our angel is progressing in self-definition.
The very first thing worth mentioning is that you started from the social archetype. Staggering 20 CHA score from the start, which, however, wasn't raised even once. Instead, most of the training opportunities were forwarded towards WIS and INT. In other words, You've decided to make our girl not only unbearably cute but also dangerously clever. She isn't the most experienced member of her caravan of wandering souls, but she's surpassed only by Karl when it comes to pure intelligence. This combination of high charisma, intelligence, and wisdom, coupled with the education received from a noble scholar, set her on a path of becoming a refined, captivating, and insightful lady.
Another thing that defines her is a high level of empathy. She aims both to understand others' reasoning as well as comprehend their emotions. Even without her magic tricks, she tries to read others' souls. This might make her look cautious or even unapproachable at first, but should even bare-bones rapport be established, people (and not only) more often than not gravitate toward her. No wonder she ended up with a motley group composed of individuals of many walks and even a moody ghost cat as an arguable pet. She cares about them deeply, for they are the only family she has, even if not all of them realize it yet. When her temper, fortes, and even magic branches are considered, she has all the chances to become a wise and caring oracle who would predispose others via charm, mend them with sympathy and understanding, and set them on a better path with wisdom and insight.
Another interesting facet of her personality is her approach to civility and general extroversion. She could've been all sorts of charming, from ditzy to sexy, but she imprinted some of her mentor's refinement instead. Some, but not excessivelly, though. She cares about boundaries, what is permitted or not, and her reputation. She also tries to stay clear from indecency, especially after her first encounter with more carnal topics (which was comedy gold). Be sure it would echo more than once in the future. She does care about politeness and proper conduct, even if not obsessively. She loves to enjoy finer things like sweet pastries, pretty clothes, and other benefits of civilization while not being a high-maintenance person, for she still has those early memories from before Kirhol, along with the sound understanding of the value of all things at hand. So, classy she may seem sometimes, but never too much.
A crucial part of her character is how she comes to react when push comes to shove. Not being physically imposing, she solves the challenges of this dangerous world via her more unique talents, namely magic and the ability to fly. Thus far, she has made quite some progress towards amplifying and honing her arcane arts, paying equal attention to spiritology and thaumaturgy. Ultimately, you decided to raise her not as a fighter, not as a trickster, and even not as a leader, but as a mage, sociable but still a mage. Can't blame you, though: you've picked quite a unique combination of talents that allow her to do some outstanding feats and would let even more after she goes through the cusp of proficiency and specialization pretty shortly. And do believe me that she has some massive potential for feats and solutions many would consider impossible. Another point of interest is her rationality: she is less idealistic and naive than one would expect, always trying to measure the best course of actions and not taking redundant risks (most of the time, at least). She isn't particularly reckless (even though she did some daring things a couple of times) and is not too cautious, taking risks when they can be affordable. Not going to lie - I'm pretty proud of how you raised her as a rational thinker. And on top of it all, she constantly tries to do her best in any situation, almost never opting to take a backseat and let someone else take the brunt. Quite a formidable trait for someone so fragile.
And that's all for the bonus, I believe. You all doing a great job navigating our girl through the world, and I'm optimistic she would become quite a majestic person :3
Now, some trivia: the chibis were made by amanimaedesign. If you like their work, I encourage you to try commissioning. Working with them was quite a pleasure.
If you like these chibis, here is the link to where you can download them. Feel free to use them as souvenirs, keychain/print templates, or whatnot - Lucifina is equally a product of your input and my writing, so you are responsible for how she's coming up, too
If you enjoy this sort of extra input from me and would like some more, let me know it, and I'll see if the same treatment can be done to other characters.
Now, with this done, about time to get back to the next update polishing.
It is true that, with the end of yesterday's run, Karl's affliction stole the spotlight of your thoughts. Despite the comments of others about how the mage is holding up, you knew better than to tempt your luck and delay his case any further. But, alas, waking up Mia before dark and "asking" her for help would be about as productive as waking you at night and asking for the complete chronicle of the Pherin empire. And so, having half a day to spend before trying to learn new tricks in souls biology and manipulations, you decided to spend some time with dear to you people, quietly sitting down on the ground, bending legs and knees, and planting your chin on top of them.
For once, observing your little tribe in a silent company felt reassuring: despite Ren's unapproachability on the surface, he has always been a big, caring softball, which wasn't a secret to more than just yourself. And as for Amalia's interest in things martial, you did not need to have deep talks or inspect her soul spark to understand that she feels inadequate compared to others in the face of dangers you've gone through and those that still lie on the horizon. Knowing how valuable of a group member she is seemingly did nothing to allay her worries. And while learning combative skills had no ill on its own, you sure hope Lia won't get reckless ideas from growing more capable in terms of self-defense. Perhaps, you'd need to talk to her about it just to make sure she won't take unnecessary risks for others' sake sometime in the future, but for now, just observing her building up confidence would do just fine.
But boys got back with barrels from the lake soon, cutting short Amalia's downtime from catering to the entirety of your group. Jumping on the chance, you asked Ren to train you a bit, too. As for the lesson itself, you opted for some self-defense training. It has been quite a while since he had to teach you practical skills, so your request was met with enthusiasm. With the help of a branch, he estimated how far you have progressed in all kinds of harm avoidance like dodging and blocking in a few minutes. And even though he said that you've likely moved a little since the last time he taught you how to evade, the ease with which he poked you with that blasted stick reflected the titanic gap between his decades of experience and your bare enthusiasm with assiduity. But the mild humbling did not make the lesson any worse - maybe even to the contrary: he showed you what feints and feint combinations are, how to react to them. And if that wasn't enough, he helped you find a couple of defensive stances that fit your constitution, taught you when to shift the guards, and when blocking is preferential to evading. This well-digested session was supplemented by a complimentary head pat in the end; you could easily see it in him: he loves to be relied upon, especially by those he cares about.
But just like Amalia got snatched with Isaac's and Jory's return, Awakening of Seph from her short midday nap blew Ren away from you and into the smithy, along with Hjorn the horned femme. And so, you ended up alone in the yard, free to pursue your own devices. Not pondering for long, you dived back into the shed to retrieve ink and your journal, then fiding a cozy spot outside to proceed with writing at lengths about yesterday's raid and attempting to find parallels between Karl's condition and observations of the banished voidling's properties.
"Evident from the encounter, voidspawns are capable of symbiosis to the environments they are bound to. The strength of their adaptation may or may not vary depending on the properties of the bounding object and the memory engraving it retains. If so, then there might be a dependency between voidlings' behavior, powers, and weaknesses that are inherited from the feed-upon memory bulks. Unfortunately, we weren't able to probe this assumption in any meaningful way as it wasn't a part of our main objective."
The motions of the quill feather froze at the moment you've heard the doors of the smithy open, and two familiar voices rolled out.
"So, was it really that necessary? I honestly expected the second act of "Daevish physiology for dummies" play, but the two of you just took two measly measures and then dived back into boys talk."
"Well, too bad you did not find it entertaining, but those two measurements were necessary anyway... Unless you want to scrape that comely phiz of yours away from someone's weapon or something's claws."
You again registered yourself in yesterday's peculiar spot on the bench by the water keg, once more overhearing your two oldest companions without them acknowledging your presence. For some reason, you did not feel guilty this time - just curious of which way this exchange of theirs will proceed.
"Oooh, am I being..." Seph held a dramatic pause before continuing with a theatrically amused/amazed voice as if she's about to swoon, "flattered?"
"Is that wishful thinking I'm hearing?"
"Phah!" Seph's jolly grunt emerged, "For someone that massive, you seem to struggle with pushing matters through. But don't worry - we won't leave you behind. Who knows, maybe one day we would take you to a gala, and you'd become the darling of the evening~."
"Unless the place mysteriously loses half of its silverware and your horns pull down the curtains onto your head while you try to sneak out through the window with all the loot. A mess that would be, but a potentially hilarious one. What would you prefer: to drop down the window like a sack of turnips or to trash blindly indoors like a cat tangled in bedsheets?"
"Aww..." Her voice changed to fakely hurt, swiftly changing to somewhat impish during her following input, "even Amalia could've come up with a more creative retort. And thank you - knowing that someone envies my horns somehow gives me a warm feel~."
"There is little reason to envy something I possess not, less so without a reason to have it."
"Do you bhiroths never open your eyes when you wash your faces, or is it some awkward blind spots that prevent you from seeing those two tiny horns you have in whatever reflections?"
"First: we see just fine. Second: those are not horns - those are brow spikes."
Seph could not hold herself from laughing at that comment; you frowned a little - the atmosphere between these two was still an enigma to you, but there were just a few positive ways you imagined this exchange could proceed. Please, no quarrels. Pleeease... your inner voice whimpered.
"You know," Seph's voice was merrily shaky from the laughter, "If a thing looks, feels, and functions just like it supposed to, it may truly be just that thing."
You've heard a slightly annoyed sigh and Ren's heavy footsteps, a couple of them. It did not give you a reassuring feeling, somehow.
"Hey! Are your senses alright, buddy? The yard is large enough to fit your hide without obstructing me..."
"Touch them."
"Wh..." Seph did not even manage to express her bewilderment adequately. Your mouth opened ever so slightly in surprise, and brows threatened to stretch past their highest orbits. The imagination inside your blonde head began to draw scenes of debatable appropriateness.
"It took me to sing for you to stop nagging the last time, so that's just it: touch them and quench your curiosity. Otherwise, I consider it as an agreement that rhoth brow spikes aren't horns."
"Hold your horses there," Seph's voice now sounded amused, and... you don't really know the proper adjective, but it gave you strange vibes, "Before doing something like that, I want dinner first!" the dusky damsel then added shortly: "and with a cake dessert, no less!"
Damn... I want a cake. Your inner voice muttered. No offense to Lia's culinary prowess, but the gap of time that separated you from the last dessert savored filled your mind with gloom. A "three kinds of milk" cake would've been perfect just about now. A tiny, mouse-ish squeak escaped through your lips due to the sudden yet still suppressed frustration.
"The dinner is still roaming the wilds so, are you touching them, or those are not horns like you're claiming?"
"Was it some beetle that stung your sack or my comment regarding not pushing things through? Frankly, not sure whether should I be flattered or terrified, but being your auxiliary tamer, I must mention that coercing a fine lady into having a tactile contact with yourself is not how polite societies work~."
"..."
"Ah, fine."
As she said that, you could hear the hushed squeaks of her leathers, indicating that she performed a hasteless, leaning motion regardless. Then, there was a noticeable pause without a single sound. You could imagine that Seph complied with Ren's request, but the absence of her reaction was exacerbating the suspense a bit too much. And then, when you could no longer think of what was about to come, there was Seph's squeal. High-pitched, short, resonating. A squeal you have never heard from her before.
"Goodness!" the daeva exclaimed, "These... These are like those of little babies!" Her voice shifted from excited to hooting in a manner of seconds, "Tiny, silky-smooth, without a rib or a furrow! Do you use something to keep them like that? No way the walking meat mincers could have the horns sooo cuuute!"
Ren's plan apparently failed, prompting him to awkwardly defend his point: "Because they are not: those are brow spikes - the unique frontal skull bone formations that come in seven types across all the roth branches." But Seph had none of it, continuing to croon about how they are similar to those of daevish babies, who can be bathed in a small soapy washbowl and swaddled into adorable cocoons. At this point, you ceased any attempts to understand what was going on between these two. It was way above you - at least without Amalia's expert opinion, which was unreachable at the moment regardless. Hence, there was little choice but to let the teamies be and refocus back on cataloging, hoping that their interaction won't take a violent spin out of the blue.
"In addition to the presumed inheritance of traits via the host-parasite link, the previously-encountered voidling showcased a capacity to take advantage of the immediate surrounding area of its vessel item. This way, the voidling's "puppet" integrated some biological material from the cave into itself, including lurks' and the lake's fish flesh. Also, it acted against us with a clear understanding of the surroundings and tactical advantages that they offered. Must admit, if not the most menacing one, this particular void spawn was probably the most developed from those few I witnessed so far. And to judge whether void entities have an innately high development ceiling or the encounter happened with a rare offshoot, a verification needs more cake."
Once again, the writing feather froze in your hands. This time because of the mistake you've made, noticing it only with the help of the internal voice's reciting. Seems like Seph's unrelated phrase unearthed the growing urge for sweets in you. The sudden growl of your stomach supported the idea of asking Amalia for whatever resembling a pastry. Truth to be told, you'd be happy even for an oatmeal cookie...
But along with the return to the desire for something sweet, your senses returned to the persisting exchange between your companions. Both their soul sparks were still in the yard, and you could still hear their voices.
"Seasoning of all the things? Why?"
"I plan to go out with kherees on a hunt tomorrow. Unless it would turn into an utter failure, some meat will be obtained, and you don't want to eat plain roasted meat - believe me."
"Uh, thank you, but I still have those recollections without any extra reminding... But I get you anyway: to procure anything that can be used as a marinade."
"Yes, that would be helpful."
"Will do, then. Just, please, turn in something worthwhile: something with juice to it would be a welcome change."
"That's the goal. But what about you: what's your plan for tomorrow?"
"Well, aside from the mentioned shopping stroll, I'll try to sniff out some information on the latest events around the town. You know - the things we discussed yesterday."
"Right. That plan. Do you intend to go alone?"
"I'll ask Amalia to join - as practice showed, it is a good idea to have her at hand whenever dealing with whatever items is expected. Locals would also freak out a little less if they see their kindred with me, as you can imagine. Thinking of it, Sparkling might also be of help and have some use out of this stroll: she's a charming girl, but her quiver of tricks is dreadfully narrow. It's a huge shame she doesn't recognize the tremendous power her glamor can have when properly polished."
"Well, she is a resourceful girl with a lot weighing on her shoulders right now. It might be best to leave her to sort through her devices if you'd ask me. It also goes without mention that the less we flash her on public, the fewer are the odds of us being revealed."
"Hmm... You may be right about Lucy, but I'm not that pessimistic with the Dalgaard's assaulters: we've done a bloody good job hiding our trail so far. Hardly anyone would have a lead on us except for the general assumption that we might still be somewhere in the northern realms. So, it might not be that risky to let her roam now and there."
"That stands valid only if they don't have any planted or sleeper agents in all the settlements. We don't know who they are except for their access to substantial resources, trained personnel, and disturbingly good planning, which does not prompt complacency. Besides, no one's limiting Lu's freedom: she wandered plenty yesterday, and there's just a difference between necessity and leisure."
"All the work and no play, again?"
"Unfortunately, that's how the matters are."
"Confess: you just hate the idea of fun, don't you?" Seph sighed lightly while saying that, "But even if you do, don't think I was joking about the dinner - you better bring something tastier than an old boot sole."
"Maybe, if you keep on playing a good girl like the last few days."
Seph's mocking "Huh" punctuated the exchange, but even five minutes after it was over, you could not gather your mind on how exactly it ended on the tone it did. You tend to think that you know each of them pretty well separately, but when they come into contact... Perhaps, some mysteries are better left unsolved, especially if they appear as welcome developments.
After finishing with the journal entry and peeking on your companions, the natural choice for the next activity was trying to coax Mia to help you with a better understanding of the principles of interactions with soul sparks. So, after a brief period of idle observation of the sunset, you procured the silver token from your bag and fiddled with it in your arms. The ghostly cat's soul reacted, albeit without much enthusiasm. Then, you took a short moment to concentrate and switch to the nether vision, registering with relief that Hjorn's barn and yard looked just about the same in the Limbus as they did in the material world. But since studying Limbus wasn't your goal at the time, you got back to Mia's anchor item, prodding it with the imprint of your soul.
Mia, come play, you encrypted a signal and sent it through the freshly-reestablished channel to her spark, using the recollections of sensations you experienced during former playtimes. However, the ghostly feline did not react. Then, again, you browsed for a remembrance of a Kirhol stroll, supplementing it with harmless tomfoolery and sending it to the wilful feline. Its misty shape slowly formed after the second prompt, gathering its sparsely-sparkling mist into a vague cat shape. Two circles shining yellow stared at you from the cloud that made up the ghostly cat. Finally having the attention of your moody pet (?), you leaned forward and half-crouched, smiling widely, lightly clapping your knees, and otherwise depicting enthusiasm to the best of your ability. You packed and sent yet another memory trace of your earlier night walks with Mia to supplement the performance.
But, regardless of all the effort, the ghostly cat reacted only by briefly turning its mug in the direction of the gate, lifting its misty tail upwards, and then retraining its amber pair at you. Hopeful, you tried to give off an enthusiastic smile, still retaining a half-squatting pose. But alas, the phantom cat just dissolved onto bleakly glowing mist, which crept back into your pocket with the silver collar amulet. The answer was pretty self-evident, and at this notion of feline reliability at its finest, your cheery smile transformed into a pout.
It appeared that there was nothing more you could do in terms of studying Karl's condition that evening, so you turned in for the night a bit earlier, trying not to get too upset or angry from not receiving any help from your kind of familiar. But regardless of this particular hindrance, little did you suspect how much progress you would make the following night after waking up from yet another cryptic dream long before the dawn hour.
Your awakening felt more like a gradual squeeze-out from the dream rather than an abrupt waking for no apparent reason. Following the old habit, you attempted to clutch to as many details of the vanishing vision as possible. However, the best your memory could capture were vague visual allusions, among which was a lonely mountain covered with a golden mist, from which shapes and figures emerged, floating upwards to the sun. But where memory failed you, the introspection came in handy: you reached for the remnants of emotions caused by the dream, gathering those vestiges of wonderment, curiosity, and even comprehension. Since they felt more like a dream within a dream, the solidity of such clues would be debatable, but it did feel like a cosmological slice was laid bare in this nocturnal mirage, tying Limbus, overworld, memory traces, and souls into the intertwined system. The system you haven't yet comprehended.
Tantalized by this sentiment, your consciousness drifted back to yesterday night's realization: you are too deep into the arcane - it is a part of your nature, and not even dreams would keep you from facing it. And seeing how there would be no hiding from it, the only question that remained was whether you would be idly dragged by these powers or would you master them and steer in the direction you see fit.
With this question stuck in your mind, you scanned the surroundings: everyone was sleeping; even Seph had her brief nighttime nap. Their sparks shimmered with different patterns and frequencies, in accord with the states of their souls. Like various instruments in an orchestra, there was some innate harmony to their sparks. All except Karl's, reminding once again that you might be the only hope for his soul's integrity and that there are skills and knowledge to be gained before you could safely try your hand at it.
More than once did you ponder whether or not inspecting others' souls without their consent is a moral thing to do. Still, in this particular setting and under the ensued circumstances, the price for obtaining practical skills on how to inspect soul sparks never seemed more justified. A few silent moments passed while you weighted pros and cons. Then, not vocally but with your inner voice, you spoke, "I'm sorry," to no one in particular, deciding to take a chance to learn how to perceive souls better. As icky as it felt, gaining expertise in spiritism without others knowing would benefit Karl and everyone else.
And so, you carried out the plan, recalling the material you've learned from the books about the empathy principle of the life belt aspects, Bartholomew Dalgaard's comment on the peculiarity of your soul spark, and the tricks you've learned because of Mia's antics. Your main goal was to learn how to reliably inspect Karl's spark, so you would know more about the spread of contamination and where to apply powers.
For over an hour, you tried to focus on Karl's spark, gazing into his compromised soul from and beyond Limbus. Aware of how spirits view Limbus differently, you also tried to go into the deeper state of trance in hopes of gaining the ability to see more details - to sense the memory traces and, maybe, even decipher the soul core. But it was to no avail - no matter how many times you applied the Limbus vision, with or without focus on the memory traces, regardless of the concentration levels, you failed to see more details than you did during that desperate attempt to save the maimed militiaman.
But the failure to reach the desired result by studying the most straightforward hypothesis did not dissuade you from trying. Browsing through the harvested snippets of knowledge, you decided to mimic the channel you are establishing with Mia to exchange message-packed soul signals. Perhaps, if you try to imitate it but without the messaging part and parsing intermediary, you would be able to "sense" others' souls against yours, like a mold giving shape to softer materials. It did not even cross your mind that this "imprinting" method could've been dangerous when you sat nearby sleeping Ren. You picked him as your test subject because, if you wake him up, it would be trivial to explain to him your actions and because he tends to sleep so deep that you doubt even a couple of landers waltzing on his back would reliably wake him up.
And so, with the hushed rustle of your wings, you leaned over his prostrated massive frame. Whenever possible, he sleeps on his belly, with arms stretched to the sides as if he was giving earth a hug. For whatever reason, you found it cute, but you weren't there to admire your designated caretaker - you attempted to replicate the link you've had with Mia, even if modified. At first, your attempts brought no success, but it changed when you subliminally put your hand on his back. The skewed response sensation came through, and you understood that when someone can't parse and reciprocate your signal for one reason or another, you need to establish a more solid link yourself. The least obstructer access to his spark appeared when you carefully placed your hand on his forehead. Did it mean that souls are stored in heads or better rooted to them otherwise? A curious theory it might have been, but you had an even more thrilling task at hand - to attempt to read Ren's soul's imprint via a new method. And so, you closed your eyes, focused, and gave it your best shot.
The first thing that surprised you was the ease with which you reached Ren's soul spark: it appears that the state of sleep lowers the defenses against infiltrations into one's mind, emotions, or soulscape. Even then, you acted with great care and guardedness, focusing on tuning up your own soul spark to Ulren's and recording the ensued resonance. The procedure took less than seven seconds, and you hastily withdrew your arm, looking down at Ren - he was just as profoundly asleep as before your test, chuffing softly and rhythmically. However, you were now feeling an alien and somewhat confusing sensation - the output of Ren's soul spark. The bulk of borrowed trepidations, joys, and senses was now stuck in your mind, dissipating slowly, akin to a snowball nested in one's hands. Because of it, there was no time to lose, and, following some instinctive whim, you metaphorically embraced this bulk, parsing its contents and projection against your own soul.
Just like the very first time when you attempted to read his soul before you reached Kirhol, the first thing that struck you was the saturation and complexity of his soul spark. If back then you could only vaguely sense the traces of ordeals he had to go through on his life path, now they were weighing on your own soul. It was a hard sensation to swallow - doubts, regrets, some pride, and some acceptance: Ulren went through much in his lifetime. There were many times when he despaired or had no hope left, but each time he retreated back to his very core, finding strengths in something profound, something intimate and precious. If his soul could be described as a battered but still formidable fortress withstanding the siege of the cruel outside world, this inner place of strength was this fortresses' holy banner. It was woven deep into Ulren's very nature, giving root to his conduct, judgment, and self-view. You tried to parse what this core element of his identity was, but pinning it down proved to be a bit too difficult; the most distilled result that you've got was a vague idea of a promise.
A promise?You thought while still sitting nearby the person who yanked you out from harm's way and gave you the lifepath you now walk on. What promise? To whom and about what? The questions kept on mounting, but you stopped yourself there abruptly - prying as you did felt wrong, so it would only be right if he, should such day come at all, give you the answers of his own volition. You grinned to yourself sarcastically, registering that you allowed yourself to be carried away. But again - the experiment was a success, and you would now be able to inspect Karl's soul in deeper details should it be necessary.
"I'm sorry," you quietly whispered to sleeping Ulren. He, predictably, did not react to it, so you took a chance to relieve your conscience by fixing his blanket, tucking him better, giving his head a gentle brush, and then just sitting nearby for a couple of minutes. What you've just gathered explained his tendency to react painfully to those occasions when he had to step over the deals or promises earlier given and shed light on why he seemed to live his life with his gaze and thoughts always directed at the past. By holding to it all - the deeds done and not, decisions made and abstained from, promises fulfilled and failed, all conducted through the prism of that profound inner pledge, he, against all odds, retained his integrity as a being. It must be hard for him to carry this construct at all times, but still, you felt grateful to him that he does.
After you left your oldest companion be, a tiny echo within your inner voice tried to seduce you into assaying the souls of others. Still, you resisted the temptation by redirecting your efforts into working on the nether vision. If the spirit of Bartholomew Dalgaard saw the Limbus in more detail than you ever did, then there must have been a way for you to attain this skill. Moreover, in that encyclopedia that you were reading, it was said that spiritologists and shamans can sometimes sense not just souls but also ideas and phantasms. Applying such a skill in yesterday's manors raid would have been invaluable for untangling the mystery of the place, not even mentioning all the possible applications of such ability.
With this progression lead in mind, you quietly slipped out of the barn. The brisk night air brushed your frame, and the night sky greeted you with a glimmering scatter of innumerable stars. The night was windless and warmer than the previous one, with the vibe of mystery in the air. You could've easily marveled at this scenery, but your goal was to take a peek under this enchanting ambiance. And so you, after taking a seat at your now-favorite place near the water barrels behind the shelter, gazed into the nether. Just like on your earlier night walks, the shimmering haze above Tevon-Talab stole your focus with its intricacy. The dark vortexes that are Limbus versions of Baudur and Sophrona hung in the skies, dimming the green sepia ambient hues.
In contrast, the momentary sparks and flashes of the dream mist added life to the scene. For a heartbeat, you felt like this cloud of thoughts, ideas, and imaginations was readily reachable should you just try and reach out to it and dive into it. But fleeting emotions and cold facts are as far from each other as the moons are from the land. And so, you set your mind on learning how to improve one's perceptions of memory traces in particular and Limbus' thoughtscape in general.
With trial and error, you explored the paths to the nether vision trance, experimenting with the techniques of reaching it. Again, you shifted the focus point and the degree of concentration, attempting to alter your perceptions of the nether realm. It took you so long that Seph had enough time to wake up the first among the group and find you in the yard, briefly distracting you from your exertions. After a brief exchange, she let you practice further in peace, somewhat irked by the ghostly-white glow of your eyes but refraining from admitting it aloud.
Perhaps, this little distraction promoted you to change the approach and attempt slipping into the nether gaze while focusing on the idea of memory traces and the resonance between those emitted by your soul and the general ambiance. But regardless, after a considerable effort and iron focus, you finally managed to see changes in Limbus: the dream haze over the town began to look like a cloudly amalgam of different shapes, forms, and imageries. On top of that, you noticed a sparse presence of weak memory residue imprinted onto the objects and scattered in the air. Without second thoughts, you reached out to it, sampling its contents. The feedback came immediately: this residue was composed of uncertainty, anxiety, but also hope. Is this how the residents of Tevon feel right now on average? You settled on this answer as it seemed pretty logical: approaching hunger, risk of a new war, a threat from creatures outside the walls, and a series of murders within them indeed gave Tevonians hard times.
But as you thought, your eyes fell on a new phenomenon: the Limbus version of Hjorn's smithy was now producing a glowing haze from which shimmering geometrical shapes flew off like snowflakes in winter, dissipating in the air mid-flight. Curious, you left your favorite spot and approached the anomaly, reaching out to it with your will and trying to interpret it. Like the ambient traces, this glow happened to be Hjorn's ideas and thoughts engraved onto the building, although in much higher concentration. Sampling these traces and looking around his yard for more gave you a vague idea that Hjorn indeed is passionate about his craft: he finds refuge in it from the circumstances of daily life and tragedies he lived through. In a way, he lives for his art, which, however, has left his heart emptier. He did not seem to have many dreams and aspirations beyond coming up with new designs or discovering new materials for weapon and armor smithing. The traces you sampled contained some notions of old and new friendships, but they were relatively scarce, suggesting that your host is a pretty lonely person in reality. You would not be surprised if one hand's fingers would be sufficient to cover all of the people Hjorn deems close, including Ulren. Once again, you stopped yourself from delving any deeper: your exercise was a success, and there was no reason to infringe others' privacy any further. However, you could not shake off the sad feeling for the kind man who sheltered your party.
With your companions waking up one by one and the rising sun submerging Limbus in darkness, the only remaining venue for you to practice further was to meditate and inspect your own soul. Feeling energized by today's successes, you spared no extra thoughts about it. After going through the morning routines before others used all the water, you made your way back into the shed, sitting on top of your bedroll, closing your eyes, narrowing down on your own soul spark. Hours passed as you scrutinized the flows and glow of your spirit, from the soul's coronal shine of memory traces to its very core. Surprisingly, studying your own spark proved more difficult than gazing into others'; the shuffling of your companions did not help it either. However, Ren left early (most likely to join the hunt, as he told Seph yesterday). Sephorah went outside with Amalia later in the morning, and Karl, Isaac, and Jory weren't particularly noisy, letting you have some time in peace.
Unlike the nightly praxis, this meditation session did not yield any new abilities or augment those you already had. Although trying to interpret the soul core in futility made you conceive a new theory: what if the soul core does not belong to the spirit arcane aspect? When you tried to analyze it, the obtained feedback was unintelligible according to the spiritological decyphering method, yet, there was something familiar in those energy readings. What if the soul core is a product of thaumaturgy?You asked yourself in your thoughts, hastily reaching out for "The introduction to arcane aspects" cyclopedia by Leofric Vaughan and glimpsing once again at the aspects archetypical tree. It... It looks like an intricate soul spark, in a way! The inner voice rang after drawing analogies between the elemental belt and the soul's vitality shell and life aspects belt with soul's convectrix and relievo layers. Then, agitated, you dived in for another book: "Advanced theses of arcane art for practitioners" by professor Meredith Swansbrough; the "twin and multiple arcane aspects affiliations" chapter. You gave it one more read and applied it to the nascent assumption in your mind. Then, slowly, you raised your eyes to the improvised cloth wall, separating the boy's part of the barn, where Karl was supposed to be lying. In one of your earliest conversations, he mentioned that Pherinians used to call those capable of both thaumaturgy and spirification "seers"...
Something in your mind clicked like several cogs finding their proper placing. A grin began to form on your face, becoming wider and wider with each moment of realization: what if thaumaturgy and spiritology are consonant or even merge into a quasi element? What if you can learn how to apply thaumaturgy on the level of nether? What if you can learn to banish voidlings in the stages preceding a vessel possession? This would make saving Karl from the demonic takeover so much easier! And beyond that: the possibilities can be numerous! This hypothesis would've made you extraordinarily excited if not for two factors: you don't yet know how to test it, and you were feeling pretty tired after hours of intensive training. And you just got to the thrilling part. What a bummer...
With Ren out for a hunt, Amalia and Seph away for supplies, and no fresh munchies in sight, the only thing left for you to do was to get a quick nap. And that was precisely your course of action. Even grumbling stomach and sporadic thoughts that catching up with Isaac might be appropriate failed to obstruct you from lazing a little. This "a little" stretched for a few hours past afternoon. Isaac and Jory were busy fiddling with the portable alchemic kit and those serums they made out of the Baathor manticore's abscess ichor. For once, Jory sounded actually focused on the process, lively commenting on each and any development in their endeavor. But before you could conduct your sly intrusion and questioning, you sensed girls hastily returning to Hjorn's yard from their town promenade. It is not like you did not care for how the boys were doing, but Lia and Seph were bound to bring edibles, among other things, so the soonest the gates creaked, you were already outside, ready to greet them.
Yet the circumstances that drew them back to the hideout also made them less interested in your warm greeting as both girls immediately barricaded the gates with their frames, breathing heavy and holding to bags.
"Goodness gracious! What if he dies?!" Amalia inquired with an uncharacteristically squealy voice. Anyone would see how shaken she was.
"Dies? Naaaah," Seph's voice also carried the constraints of irregular breathing. Albeit because of suppressed laughter. "Although he might find fiddlin' with his diddle problematic now unless he's into painful kinks."
"You stabbed him squarely in... into... there. Right there, for saint Aethlig's sake!"
"Our warnings to not approach or intimidate us didn't work, remember? What else there was left for us to do?"
"Wasn't he one of those hunters from the Raider's Halt? You know, those who got into a tavern brawl with us? Like, we've just added insult to injury... or injury to an insult, rather!" Slowly, but Amalia began to subside, "There must have been another way..."
"Do believe me when by the time a pumped-up man threatens to make you swallow your freshly-torn-out spleen, there's normally no venue left for negotiation. And who knew we'd encounter some of their lot here, anyway?"
To this, Lia just shook her head in fading shock and disbelief.
"Come, now! Almost everyone's happy: we have our merchandise, and locals don't have a reason to take the smith's walls by storm and burn the barn with us inside. All it took was a sad & lonely militiaman, a bit of lash batting, and a kiss on a cheek in return for sorting out that mess.~"
Lia's understanding of the futility behind any attempts to reason with Seph took a headshake form. "I dread to imagine what sort of chaos your city promenades left in Kirhol."
"Aw! Even if your role model is a senior matron, it does not mean you have to be patronizing. Besides, how good can a shopping spree be if it does not carve any new impressions? And who saved the local townsfolk from you haggling them out of their pants, huh?!"
Instead of replying to daeva's comment, Amalia finally acknowledged your presence, trying to smile sweetly: "Oh, hello Lucy!". This acknowledgment made Seph also take notice of you, with her raising one of her hands and shaking it energetically, pretending that nothing out of the ordinary happened at all. Na-ah, not one bit.
Blank-mindedly, you raised your hand and waved it in response weakly. Head tilted to a side, mouth slightly opened, and a lonely thought on your mind: Help. If this continues this way, I'll need help. Damn it, Ren, where are you?
Thankfully, within the walls, neither Lia nor Seph showed any intention to cause trouble. With the former proceeding to whip out some snacks, you jumped on a chance to interrogate Sephorah firsthand. Without much resistance but with some playfulness, she yielded that they went out to gather intel on town's goings and buy supplies. The first task was spectacularly failed, as locals were not predisposed by the obvious outlanders despite hesitantly engaging in conversations. But unlike with the town's gossip, supplies hunt turn out more than fruitful. With all the seasoning, spices, and herbs procured, it would be possible to prepare ratios to last over a week and a half, depending on what Ulren would bring from the hunt. On top of it, Amalia sniffed out a prospect to obtain a whole bundle of cloth and leather ridiculously cheap, so now there was enough material to not just repair everyone's garbs but to make an outfit or some extra bags. Replenishing medicine and making other deals was the icing on a metaphorical mercantile cake.
She did try to swindle from mentioning the "misunderstanding," the discussion of which you overlooked by the gates, though. But you thwarted her heist, leaving without a choice but to explain what happened. According to her testimony, one of the hunters who participated in a bar brawl at Narvic (maybe even the one she smashed with a chair) recognized them in the market square. She said that, luckily, the man was more angry than insidious and attempted to take some of the girls' possessions on his own instead of turning the crowd against them. Attempts to dissuade or to intimidate him failed, so Seph had to apply "precise retaliation," which led to even more stirring of unrest. Fortunately, one of the nearby militiamen did not make premature conclusions and, with some "wiles," Seph convinced him to "clear out the mess started by an inadequate roughneck assaulting two tender maidens in the light of day with no shame." Amalia had to be her involuntary translator for most of the event's duration, though, so it wasn't much of an enigma as to why she was so rattled back at the gates. To this, you could only sigh and shake your head: at least, the potential issues with the citizens at large and local authorities were avoided.
But as Seph finished her... unbiased report, you jumped on a chance to ask her for a favor. A favor of teaching you how to talk yourself out of troubles and not only. Sephorah received your request enthusiastically, almost instantaneously submerging you into the lecture on negotiation and how it drives nearly everything around us. Truth to be told, you always noticed how she could skillfully play with words while you had to rely on your charm and sincerity, so a request like this was long overdue. But whatever were your motives, Seph looked thrilled to oblige you, and she did her best to be not just informative but also entertaining - a rare flavor among all of your tutors.
"So, what is the main question behind any interpersonal interaction?" Seph quizzed you after quite some hours of an active lecture, which also brought you and her to your behind-the-barn spot on the bench.
"The 'what do you want?' question?" you answered like a dutiful student.
"And what does everyone want in the most broader terms?"
"Procurement of desires and avoidance of severities," you worded the answer the best you could.
"Aw, come now - don't give me this Rosaline's stuff."
"To cover needs and wants and to avoid repercussions," you reiterated with a tiny eye roll and a lopsided grin.
"And, how does persuasion work on the deepest level?" Seph was grinning wide, clearly satisfied about having to teach you something and by the prolonged interaction as it was.
"By showcasing the listener the superior reward versus risk balance of the solution that branches out of your own interests."
"Aaand, that's enough for today," Seph concluded cheerily, not even trying to hide her amusement. "You learn pretty fast, you know that? We'd better get out on occasion and sharpen your skills live," she said, to which you just shrugged innocently. Yet, there was some hesitation in you, as if you did not just spend a few hours in the rapscallion daeva's company and wanted more of it.
"Seph, mind if I ask you something?"
"Oh, is it something about what you just learned?"
"No. It's actually about you."
"About me? Did I do something wrong, again?" Seph jested, "or did the bhiroth perceive me doing something wrong in his opinion, so he went snitching to you?"
You shook your head before retorting. Of course, you could've mentioned her digging in your host's private chamber the other day, but this wasn't something of great importance. At least not for now.
"I just would love to learn more about you. And, perhaps, how did you end up on Pheotor, so far away from your homeland."
"That... would be a pretty long story, Sparkling," Seph tried to apply a sardonic tone, "There are surely more interesting pastimes you could find for yourself."
"But I want to know more about you!" you replied innocently, "Besides, is there a chance if you'd feel better and lighter if you finally tell your story to someone?"
"Are you..." she gasped theatrically exaggeratedly, "Are you seriously trying to use the lesson I thought against me?"
To this, you smiled innocently and provided an answer: "No! It's just... I hold this belief that people who trust each other might be content to share their thoughts, aspirations, burdens, and whatnot. For example, I would've been happy to tell you more of what I've seen or experienced if only you did not know most of it already," You gave her an endearing and a bit guilty smile as if the lack of memories was somehow your fault, "so, I just extrapolated this thought onto you. Pardon me if that's not the case." You looked to the side when you were finished.
Scrambling for a reply took her a few long moments, during which her facial expression got adorned with vibes of seriousness for a few fleeting heartbeats.
"It's not that I don't trust you, Sparkling, but some stories might be better left untold." She skipped a lengthy pause before following up with: "If I go into details, there's a chance you will no longer see me in the same light. And I don't want to risk turning away the person whom I considered a close friend."
Suddenly, you felt like this was no longer a leisure conversation. At least not for Seph. Thinking briefly of whether or not it is worth a shot, you decided to proceed. After all, each member of your pack directly or indirectly relies on each other, meaning that ignoring the tapestries of their fates, troubles, and aspirations would be unwise at best and callous at worst. Thereby, you shifted a bit closer to her on the bench, saying: "I have always seen you like a big, caring, even if a tiny bit rowdy sister whom I can trust unconditionally. Thus, know that I will not think ill of you regardless of what you would or would not tell me, and shan't ask for anything you won't share of your own volition."
She looked you in the eyes with her bright orange pair, pondering. And then, after raising her brow in a gesture of capitulating to your request, she leaned against the barn's wall, sighing and then mumbling: "Don't say I did not warn you..."
Her body language suggested that it would be a lengthy confession, so you followed her suit and leaned against the wall, too.
"You might still remember the time when I told you and Amalia of my origins, which is the house Terphor. Heck, I even told you why I left in broad terms, but, to understand the principal reason I left my homeland, you must also know the Kathorian way of life. As a part of the kin whose lifespan is dramatically dependent on the living conditions, houses - or clans, how landers call them - are paramount. They are the fabric of daevish society and determine the life paths of their living and unborn members. In this sense, I was pretty privileged, being the youngest child of a rather famous clan, which supplied Bael with the finest entertainers, finery manufacturers, and... uh, companions. One of my grandmothers even rivaled the now-ruling High Queen Jahnara during the latter's climb to the top of society over two centuries ago. But in any case, what matters is that your house and family decide your fate more often than not.
My mother did not even try to hide from me that one day, I would be presented with a fact of what I shall practice and who will be my spouse. Such treatment isn't limited to the youngest children in dynasties, but they are the prime targets to be considered trading assets for the house, while the older ones enjoy more leniency or even freedom. To say that I hated such a perspective would be to not say anything at all. Even before I grew old enough to understand what awaited me, running off into the streets, hiding from the family, and disobeying the elder's directives were something I overindulged. Thinking of it now, I feel sorry for Simin - she was the only sibling who truly cared about me while I caused her so much trouble..."
Seph's gaze drifted somewhere far as she paused for a few moments. You kept silent company, quietly observing her expression, which was melancholic and a tiny bit nostalgic. It wasn't hard to perceive some hints of her hankering for the person she mentioned. Then, she exhaled and continued.
"Perhaps, you already composed a mental picture of me trying to run away from home now and then, listening to the poetry of celestines - a group that praises freedom and calls for everyone to follow their inner sun -, and daydreaming about a broader, freer world across the sea, where, one day, I would undoubtedly find my happiness. While the family did all they could to temper me down, I kept gathering whatever small snippets about the world outside Kathor from travelers, scholars, books, and just about any sources at hand. And one day, my cup of foolhardiness was filled to the brim. Strangely, I can no longer recall what sprung this "now or never" panic feeling, but the recollection of me sneaking into a trading raft floating down to Ussar and then sneaking into a vessel bound for Pheotor is fresh as if it happened the last week."
As Seph paused for yet another time, her face curved in a wistful smile. Perhaps, thrills, adventurism, or naivety, these memories seemed to warm her at least a little even now. Or, mayhaps, there was another reason tied to these memories, which put a bittersweet smile on her face.
"I knew that there would be no coming back, but the taste of freedom clouded my mind, completely overriding any worries or concerns I might have had back then. Even shapeless and underdefined, the dream seemed but a stretched hand away, and when I landed in Ebongale, my eyes were ablaze. But alas, bare enthusiasm does not fill the stomach and cover from the elements. Without even knowing Pherinian or any other Pheotorian language, I struggled to get a grip on anything. The money I've got from clumsily pawning my jewelry was running out fast. Now, I'm pretty sure that I did not get even a quarter of their actual worth, but I could not know any better back then. When my euphoria began to wear out, I located a couple of tiny daevish communities searching for help. Unlucky for the younger me, the most they could spare was advice on where I could seek menial jobs like cleaning, washing pints, or doing laundry.
Gvuroths weren't particularly impressed by the dancing and singing skills I was taught back in Kathor - for them, I was too outlandish to bring in any profit, among other things. So, without much else to offer, I had to attend the humdrum jobs, barely scraping by while learning the Pherinian language, meanwhile planning my ascent from insignificance and poverty. There, I began to suspect that my escapade could have been nothing but an act of extravagant debauchery, while the consequences of my actions were a figurative hangover. But even then, my dream was still glaring, staving off the bleak tide of cynism that, perhaps, could've saved me in the long run.
It happened at the "Spotty Albatros" inn. It was a kind of a portside tavern which had brawls only once a few months instead of the biweekly, and where the bedsheets were changed after each customer instead once a week; a pretty fine establishment compared to the analogs. After switching establishments, I tried to work my way up in this one, jumping on a chance to sing a song or two for patrons when invited entertainers weren't at hand, and laborious tasks weren't pressing.
It was after yet another such attempt to build up my reputation when a sharply-dressed lander called me to his table. He was smarmy and charitable, showering me with compliments, praising my talent, and even ordering me some hearty meal. At first, I suspected he was trying to honey talk his way under my skirt. However, when I interrogated his motives directly, he said that he was one of the middle-level executives of the Phaivean royal theater, finishing his tour in search of new talents willing to relocate and perform."
The change of Seph's voice and the earlier "saved me in the long run" line prompted you to steal a glimpse of her. Speaking of which, her eyes were staring into nothingness, as if she was back in space and time to the place she mentioned. Her face also looked neutral and not just apathetic, but forcibly passionless, as if she tried to suppress any emotions that may stir up from digging in the past.
"He claimed to lose any hope to attract new actors and singers for the budget he was given and was already preparing the excuses for the failed trip before his superiors. And then, he heard me singing a day before the planned departure. So, he asked me if I would like to take up this offer and move to the kingdom to the north from Ebongale Polises. The monthly compensation he advertised was equal to a year and a half of me doing the lowly jobs. And yes, I know you think that "it must have sounded too good to be true" - even back then, the still-naive-me had the same doubt. But a feeling of skipping a chance to elevate in life felt too punishing. And so, I packed up what little there was in my possession and agreed to follow north the next day.
Odd, but there's not much left in my memory related to that journey. Possibly, the blend of excitement, dreams, and agitation overshadowed everything on my mind. Not sure it would be even possible to nail down the mood I had back then - it felt like too much was happening too fast, rendering it impossible to sit down and internalize what was going on. This rolling tide of emotions gave way only when we had already arrived at the destination. Instead of a grand building with columns in a respectable plaza, the property turned out to look more like a pretty inconspicuous tavern in an old district. I had a sudden burst of this... uncanny feeling as if everything was wrong and this was not a place for me to be in..."
Without any change in her physiognomy, Seph took a tiny pause, shaking her head sideways. "How I wish now I just dropped everything and ran away before entering that cursed place, because the minute the doors shut behind us, I was knocked out cold and woke up in a cell, tied, and with a fresh brand on my neck." You have seen a scar on the right side of her neck, but never did you assume it originated from Seph, most likely on her own, shaving off a brand mark. This thought gave you chills; meanwhile, Seph gasped for air and took a few moments to gather up words and prepare to relay her story further. Her irises began to twitch a little, betraying the stern look on her face and her voice losing the icy tone.
"And that's how I became a slave of a criminal syndicate for over six torturous years. There were other hapless girls like me, some newly kidnapped and others serving for years on end, growing to tolerate or even enjoy their newfound existence. We were assigned roles depending on the looks, race, talents, and other traits, but most of us, including myself..." Her face morphed as if pained from her intestines churning. You could say she was about to vomit from recalling it, so she spared you the details: "we had to lie, steal, be obedient, do other horrible acts and allow disgusting things to be done to us. Those whose minds or bodies could not handle it anymore were disposed of. Those who tried to run were forcibly brought back and dealt with in front of others, dissuading potential escapees. Those who complied but performed below expectations were kept hungry until they "improved" or starved out. Everyone was chugged with foul concoctions to prevent us from multiplying mouths and losing usefulness. The only glimmer of hope that kept us from going insane or suicidal was a tiny share from the assignments we were sent on and a chance to buy out our freedom if we somehow amassed enough."
Things turn from suspicious to morbid fast, and to say you felt shocked would've been an understatement. For once, you suppressed your imagination from painting the "horrible acts" and "disgusting things" Seph purposedly left vague. As for your interlocutor, she persisted with holding up an impenetrable face, but other cues such as shivering hands, eyes, and voice were betraying the internal storm that was raging behind her facade.
"But what was inflicted to us was just one side of the problem: existence we've had also degraded us from inside. Even bound by the same chains, some of us tried to steal and scheme against others in hopes of bringing their liberation closer at others' expense. So, we had to organize into smaller groups and watch out backs at all times, trusting nearly no one. Some abandoned the dream of buying themselves out, opting to plunge into the underground life with both legs. And then, some simply didn't make it through, losing themselves a few months before their emancipation.
Like, an alvizian girl named Lenore. She got enslaved about a year before myself, and for everyone who came after her, she was like a motherly figure - always enduring, well-wishing, and understanding. She tried to take care of those of us who needed it most. Never once did she complain or lament, even though it was apparent she did not enjoy her situation. She kept our hope alive to the best of her abilities. But, one day, when she nearly gathered enough money to buy herself out, something broke in her. A spark that kept her alive all these years was gone, and after sharing with us her painstakingly-earned money, she just refused to cooperate or respond to anyone. Even the thugs who oversaw us were surprised, but the rules were rules, and, like anyone who no longer was profitable, she wasted away within a week."
Unconsciously, your mouth opened. Chaotic thoughts and emotions cloud your mind like swarms of furious insects. You did not know what to think or how to take it all. Meanwhile, Sephorah took a longer pause to shake off her strain from digging through what she would've happily forgotten. It seemed that she succeeded to a minor degree, as her voice evened up prior to the next part of her story.
"A couple of months since Lenore's demise, me and a couple of girls - less than a half from the original size of our clique, have finally hoarded enough coins to buy back our freedom. And so, at long last, were allowed to leave. You may be wondering how come they just open the door to us after all we've done and seen, but I'll get back to the reason why it was so a bit later.
Shoved back into the world, the three of us now had little to nothing except the skillset of spies, thieves, and courtesans. Yet, we decided to stick together and try to settle somewhere away from the city and its vices. My both companions were landers, so for them, it was their last chance to find an honest living and, maybe, to start their families. As for me, I had just a vague idea of amassing enough money for a journey and a fresh start in Eiborea. I've heard rumors of how cosmopolitan and hospitable that land is. Perhaps, I should've gone for it instead of trying to settle among gvuroths in the first place.
Anyway, for the first time in a long, long while, it felt like life could return to normal. We settled in a village, and the community accepted us eventually. Through back-breaking labor, we eked up a humble existence, but it was a fair life nevertheless. One of my companions even managed to find herself a groom among local men. I had a bit harder time, though, as Eastlanders were not accustomed to daevas, yet it was still incomparably better to what we had to endure prior. Buy then, one evening..."
Seph's last phrase came out rather forcefully, with hints of anger. Her breath yet again began to lose the normal rhythm, and the shape of her eyes exuded furious vibes.
"They came after us. You see - while Roths can be uncaring, humans can be corrupt to the core. The syndicate we worked on was just a patch of a grand criminal cobweb, stretching through all parts of the kingdoms and all slices of its society. Nearly every guardsman, border patrol, or city guard knew of the existence of criminal organizations and knew better than to cross them. Lords of the land and even clergy took part or "conveniently looked away" from the doings of the underground groups. The same was true even to the commoners, plenty of whom were snitches to the slavers, human traffickers, and enforcers. Turned out, our former masters always knew where we were, and one day, the syndicate decided that it would prefer us dead if not returned.
I still have no idea if it was the change in the leadership that had led to the "reacquisition" of "loose assets," or if our liberation was nothing but a decoy for the network to plant their associates and see if they would be of any use in their "new" roles. Regardless, one evening the thugs came for us. My companion, who found herself a man tried to flee while her groom attempted to win her some time, and alas, both got slain. My other friend surrendered to their mercy and was dragged away from our humble shack. And as for me, the head of this enforcers lance - one of the overseers who remembered me from my captivity days - ordered his pals to vacate the premise. His intent towards me was clear, for even back then, he made moves to use me for his pleasure, and now he seemingly had all the power to act upon his desire unobstructed. The hog did not account for one minor, but a lethal thing, though: the dagger, which I learned to keep with me at all times and which I sank into his foul neck when he tried to pin me to the wall with his hosepipe in hand.
It was the first time I took someone's life directly. I can still feel the searing sensation of fury that I felt back then and the warmth of the scum's blood on my hands. I did not just stab that son of a bitch, I lashed out all the humiliation, woe, pain, and rage I had as if the scumbag was a personification of all those years I was but a tool and toy in others hands. I stabbed, sliced, and stabbed again until his still-living bastard pals began to bang on the door. Then, I took the crud's shortsword, his purse, and then squeezed out through the window, bolting away as fast as I never ran in my life."
If before this, Seph's visage retained only hints of anger, the recounting of this event, in particular, broke any restraints she had, making her voice seething with rage, her eyes filled with shock, pain, and hatred, and her fists clutching so hard you could see the white of her bones. Her state was rapidly deteriorating, and it caused you to think if it might be the prime time for her to stop. But, she herself saw no stop to this flow.
"They sure damn chased me, but I was faster, galloping forth like an animal dumbstruck with fear. I no longer recall where I took shelter after that flight, but I remember the foreboding feeling of recognizing myself a prey for the entire criminal network of Phaivea. And it did not wait long to prove me correct: at first, there were groups of thugs, then, they began to send out hitmen. My life turned into a neverending game of cat-and-mice. To survive, I had to steal, seek for, and squat in temporary hideouts. I had to avoid the law enforcers and the headhunters at all cost, although a few of those who got too close I had to ambush.
This foul game continued up until I made it to the northern border of Phaivea. And, if you read about the geography of the Riverland kingdoms, there was a fort at the chokepoint separating me from freedom. By that time, a quarter of all Phaivean walls were plastered with banners depicting me as a dangerous murderer at large; the churls even gave me a nickname, "the murder martlet." What a career for a dumb girl: from a weaponized prostitute to a full-fledged murderer, eh? Bet no one from my family would've guessed I'd get this far!"
Seph, no longer controlling her emotions, surrendered a sinister giggle. Her voice was now ferocious, if not manic. This was getting out of hand way too fast, and, perhaps, you had to do something to calm her down before others could hear her.
"The plan to use the captain of the fort as a hostage went belly-up in the most critical moment, granting the smuggler-kissing scumbag with an extra orifice. To die to a former slave, into ignoring the transit of hundreds of such you are bribed regularly. What an irony! But, one arson and wild chase later, I left that rotten kingdom behind for the first time in seven years. The bad news was my dubious "glory" made it up into the ears of the monarch and his bishop, who promised a rich reward for my head, causing scores of mercenaries to continue the chase. And that's how the once-naive, dumb, and scared girl ended up bolted in a dying northern city, ridden with disease, ghouls, marauders, mercenaries, and a zealous army marching to raze it all. But by that, I was no longer giving the slightest damn! To freeze to death along with refugees, to get skinned alive by the westlanders, or to..."
You had enough of it, and, following some deep-seated urge, you heeded to the whim of your arcane side, placing a hand on rambling daeva's forehead and linking to her soul to assess its state. A moment forward, Seph's rattled and restless soul resonated against yours. You could sense the distressing condition it was in, spasmed further by the whole recollections experience. However, one thing caught your closer attention: the source of her inner torment was not as much in the scars left on her by the days of enslavement as in the more profound inner turmoil. It was as if her current persona was nothing more than a reaction to the restless, deeply wounded true self, serving the primary purpose of not making her feel even more pain. Whatever could have been the root of her turmoil was not disclosed or hinted at yet. So, for all intents and purposes, her case seemed to be even more complicated than you thought.
With a soft exhale, you severed the link between your soul sparks after measuring her state. When you opened your eyes, still retaining your palm on her forehead, you registered Seph staring back at you with wide eyes and mouth slightly opened. Perhaps, you even startled her. Uncertain if her reaction was caused by you parsing her soul or the sudden touch of her head, you now had to somehow wriggle out of this awkward situation.
"Please, that's enough," you said with a soft voice, gently leading her nape to your laps, "I can attest what happened later on my own, so, please, no more."
Utterly dazed, Seph yielded to your gestures, obediently lying onto the bench and placing her head at your legs, not daring to break the eye contact. In retaliation, you made an attempt to smile at her reassuredly, but it must have come out somewhat bittersweet; your hand continued to gently stroke her silvery forelocks as she smoothly began to come back to her senses.
Realizing just how much she dumped onto you, she diverted her gaze eventually, muttering, "now, your view of me must have changed..." This comment carried a somber tone; the fear of you turning away from her after learning of her past was painfully obvious.
"It did, Sephie," You answered just as soft as before, "it sure did..." the daeva, however, did not reply anything to this, either out of fear or shame. You decided to take matters into your hands, carefully touching her chin and prompting her to face you once again.
"Remember the time you climbed up into the window of my room just to make sure that I was alright? I did not have all the context back then, but now it is more than evident you sought to prevent me - a person you barely knew - from following your fate. That was pretty noble of you." As you said this, she shifted her gaze for a brief moment, likely not seeing how to reply.
"Or that time you ventured into the valley to search for me? Or when you agreed to go and save Jory from the slavers? Or even how dutifully you oversaw and protected me when we were searching for the disappeared hunter, despite not agreeing with my plan? You are a courageous person, Sephie, and exceptionally strong for carrying your kindness through the captivity that broke many others. So, the one thing that changed in the way I see you is that you became more relatable in my eyes."
Her face gained some notes of confusion or even embarrassment. "But how? Why?" she muttered quietly, not finding a place to train her eyes on.
"Because both of us lived through that moment of life when we were alone in the world we knew little to nothing about, doomed to rely on the mercy of others. I have no moral right to judge you for what you had to go through because I could've easily been in your shoes. If nothing else, I feel guilty for how fortunate I was back on that fateful night when I was found. So now, be sure I won't let this disparity go unfixed and won't abandon my brave, caring, and a bit rowdy big sis."
Your words pierced through her defenses if there were any left standing after this long evening of shrift. Seph struggled to find a direction to divert her eyes to, clearly smitten, but to no avail. Her warm orange pair also began to well up with tears, which she desperately tried to hold. Her breath began to get interrupted. Seeing her state for what she was: a lost, lonely, and scared girl that made a leap of faith in the pursuit of her dream, you did what some people would call a pygmalion effect, but what seemed like the only right thing to do: you offered her acceptance and reassurance that once was given to you.
Quietly, you leaned over her trembling frame, carefully wrapping your hands around her and unfolding wings a little; you pressed her to your chest, with her trembling arms clutching to your back. Her grip around you tightened after a momentary twitch, which could've been a reaction to the first embrace in so long.
"I'm afraid there is no spell that would allow me to fix your past or make you forget it all. Mending this damage is something only you can do, but be sure that I, Amalia, and even Ren would be glad to help you the best we can if only you give us a chance. And carve it somewhere in your mind that we will never let anyone hurt you again. Never again, did you hear me?" you whispered to her.
Her reply came through via an even tighter squeeze of your frame, her face burying into your neck; hushed sobs and light spasms followed. You let her have all the time, though, because havens see she needed it badly. Luckily, no one came out and interrupted you before Seph regained her composure. Otherwise, it would've been a pretty awkward situation to explain.
"Thank you, Lu," Seph spoke back with her normal - if a bit tired - voice while she was regaining a seat to the right from you. "I would ask you a couple more things, though."
"Uhm. Sure, what are they?"
"First of all, do take note of my story. There were times when I could only wish to be rid of my memories entirely. I hate when someone tells me what to do and won't tell you so either, but please, do think carefully if you truly want to regain the memories you might have lost, keeping in mind my story and how this world treats its denizens." Seph's stare at you was dead serious.
"Maybe through other words, but you reiterated what others told me before, and I'll tell you same I sad to them: I will consider when or if the time comes." Hearing this, Seph quietly nodded to you.
"And what's the second thing?"
"Ah, right - the second thing! Please, don't tell the bhiroth of our conversation here. Otherwise, he will taunt me with his smug face till the end of time."
"Oh, you~. Back at it again, I see," your face cracked in a lopsided grin, and you nudged her playfully.
The rest of the evening came by peacefully. Amalia whipped out some snacks, which you enjoyed in the company of your caravan. You were still affected by Seph's story, but now the center of your worries was the unavoidable feeling of emptiness made by Ren's absence. You hoped to sense the readings of his soul spark at the perimeter of your senses any minute, but he did not come. Late into the night, when everyone went to rest, you could not fall asleep because of this growing anxiety.
"Having trouble relaxing?" Sephorah spoke to you quietly sometime past midnight, noticing you were still awake.
"Ren isn't back. I'm worried." You whispered back plainly, not even trying to hide your concern.
"Hmmm... That's indeed uncommon to him. But I would not be so worried yet in your place: depending on what and how far they hunt, it might take them one more day."
"The last time Ren disappeared, I've got my face smacked by one of his kinsmen, and we both ended up arrested."
"Oh? When was it?"
"The very night he found me. We got out because the bhiroths patrol was intercepted by some giant beast, and Ren convinced the guard to help his mates instead of guarding us and then grabbed his items and me before fleeing."
"Huh. So much for conspiracy."
"Well, those soldiers in Beilford saw me, too. And the spy that infiltrated Rosaline's mansion also might have spread the rumor about me. We seem to lack in secrecy, don't we?"
"Now, don't you just know how to blow one's self-esteem, nay?"
"Sorry. I just fear Ren might have been caught by those agents that assaulted Rosaline's house."
Seph sighed softly before answering, "Alright, I see your point. What would you say if we search for him in the morning, and before that, I'll keep watch? Just in case."
"But haven't you slept at all?"
"I've got a quick nap, so it should suffice. Now, don't worry about me and have you rest. If our pet bhiroth doesn't show up on his own, we'll find and drag him from wherever he stuck in."
"Alright," you agreed, "Good night, Sephie."
"Night, Lu," she answered.
With that, you stretched your wings a little towards Seph. If she would keep a vigil, it would at least be fair to provide her with some comfort. And so, with her words easing up your mind a little and her fingers gently brushing your feathers, you fell into an uneasy sleep.
Be it due to all the practice with magic or because of filtering Seph's less-than-happy background, but you woke up in the late morning. Albeit, it would be more correct to specify that you were woken up and by the town's horn, no less. You ran out of the shed to have Hjorn interpret it, and he said it was a signal of a hunt's conclusion without any casualties. However, there was an evident commotion in town, spreading like a wave from a yar to a yard. The one-legged blacksmith took it on himself to venture outside and scout out the situation. Half an hour later, he limped back to the yard, relaying that kherees have apparently hunted something so massive that the town would have to send groups of scavengers to retrieve the prey piece by piece from the place of its takedown. You inquired what could it possibly be, but the branded bhiroth just shrugged vaguely.
Stirred by this development, you were about to pester Sephie to gather up and start searching for Ren when the reading of his soul spark entered your range, drifting slowly to the gates to the smithy yard. Excited, you spurred everyone except Karl to meet Ren and to help him out with the spoils. But notwithstanding how you pictured his arrival in your mind, the even went a bit different...
If it wasn't for his proportions and weapons loadout, you might have struggled to recognize Ulren at all: he entered the yard with a slow, tired gait; his armor was almost entirely cacked with layers of soot and dried blood; the pole of the glaive on his back seemed bent a little; the stench of iron and fire that he exuded overpowered even that of the living forge nearby; in his hands were two dirty bags of about your size. Exhausted, he dropped these bags before the congregation, with the spoils producing a wet, juicy plash sound upon colliding with the ground. Then, he opened the lid of his helmet, revealing the somewhat-less-sooted sleepy face and staring back at you all. The "did I do well?" question was written all over his face.
"Wh... What's this?" Amalia inquired, pointing at the humongous bloodied sacks.
"It's meat," Ren replied nonchalantly, leaning down to unwrap the top of one bag and reveal the meat's texture, "Lindwurm meat," he added after exposing the juicy, fat, pinkish hunk of flesh.
Amalia's eyes widened when she took notice of the "spoil," then she looked back at Ren and then at the meat again, inquiring: "Just... How am I supposed to cook it?!"
To this, Ren sniffled and brushed his face with the gauntlet's outer side, unknowingly smearing soot across his face. "The hunter folks said it tastes like poultry, but I have never seen a chicken this fat if you ask me." To this, Amalia threw her hands to the air without a single word but with the face just as shocked.
"Um... If that seems complex, we've also got some baavgur meat," saying this, he unwrapped the second sack, revealing two gigantic rib segments that could've easily belonged to a beast akin to those two that caused havoc at Baator's gates. "There was also a wyvern, but I could not carry more. Sorry," he added.
At this notion, Amalia inhaled loudly, covering her face with palms for a couple of moments, after which she massaged her eyes, straightened up, and spoke out in a commanding tone: "Jory and Lucy - you come with me to marinade this gore."
"Oi, missy!" Hjorn clanged in, "The fuel's on me!"
"I can help with cuttin'&marinadin' as well!" Seph's voice rang out.
"Why me?!" Jory protested, to which he got an instant light slap from Lia.
"Because if you keep acting like a sissy kid-glove and disobey me, you will be eating moss and bugs in the coming weeks. Did I make myself clear?"
In a defeated manner, Jory vocalized a sound resembling a tomcat in indignation, not daring to object to the bossy ex-maid. Enthusiasm washed over the rest of the assembly, evoked by the promise of an abundant evening feast. You, however, did not fail to register something others might have not noticed behind the excitement: Ren seemed a bit... light-headed? Or maybe frustrated? There was a feeling of absence to him that bothered you, but even so, you decided to let him clean himself up and rest before interrogating. For now, you were just relieved that your worst fears did not come to life.
In grim determination to process and ration such copious amounts of meat, Amalia bossed everyone to prepare the marinade, sauce, organize a bonfire of the fitting size and temperature, and make side treats. You've got a break from this exercise far past noon, opting to use the time window to check up on Karl. However, your plan got somewhat derailed when you noticed Isaac coming out of the boys' part of the shed after having his shift of tending to Karl. In fact, it was an excellent opportunity to have another bout of chat with your group's shiest and most quiet member.
"Hey," you addressed him with a warm smile and a tilt of your head, "How's it going with Karl?"
Isaac wasn't exactly expecting you to grace him with your attention, so his answer written on the wooden board came forth after a brief moment of confusion: His body's intact, but something causes him shakes. I don't know what.
"I see... Ren told me that Karl snapped at you earlier. Did he give you too much trouble?"
Isaac winced weakly before scribbling another answer: No. I've seen worse. People often act like this when scared or hurt.
"By this, do you mean that you had to treat people who were aggressive toward you?"
Isaac nodded to you before writing yet another answer: "Claudius had many different patients, some docile, some fierce. All deserve mercy."
"I wish more people in this world thought the way you do, Isaac," you replied with a faint smile.
The healer lad blushed a little and diverted his eyes, but then, something sparked on his mind. Making him scribble enthusiastically on a belt-strapped wooden plate.
About mercy: can I ask you to help Jory?
"Sure, but how can I be of his help, and would he even let me aid him?"
With a glint of enthusiasm in his eyes, Isaac wiped off the previous scribbles and deftly proceeded to draw doodles, shapes, and pointers. It took him about a minute to produce a schematic illustration.
"Sooo... If I read this correctly, you guys broke down two out of three potions from that manticore's mutated ichor into five base solutions and now need help consulting local alchemists to determine which nearby ingredients might fit for effects saturation..."
Hearing your interpretation, Isaac nodded with even more excitement, pointing with one hand at Ren's shield, which he left indoors, and with the other to the palisade.
"... And you need Ulren or Seph to go with you outside to get the consultation and to gather the ingredients? Basically, you need us to organize a harvest raid."
Isaac's grin grew even wider, and he weaved a "correct" or "alright" sign with his hands.
"I'll keep in mind this request. Not going to lie: we are currently working with the local authorities, but, on the other hand, we might use some of their help applied to this plea."
Hearing this, Isaac gifted you with a warm grin and a grateful nod. You returned the gesture, but as he passed by you, he abruptly stopped in his tracks and turned back to you. His face was puzzled for a moment, but then he wrote a couple more lines with chalk on the wooden plate.
Saw you look after Karl here and there. Do you know his ailment?
"I... have a suspicion." you answered hesitantly, wondering if it would be the correct thing to disclose what you know, "It cropped up after we escaped the cursed valley, and I suspect the void contamination of his soul. For now, he resists it, in large part thanks to you attending his vital shell, which reduces the strain on his mind. I am trying to figure out how to cure him and ask you not to disclose to others what I've just told you. Can you keep it between us?"
Isaac's eyes lost their focus for a couple of seconds, probably betraying him intensively processing the new intel. Then, he wrote the final answer: Sure, and let me know if I can be of any help.
Even though you did not know Isaac that closely, your intuition told you to rely on him. So you smiled back and let him go with an acknowledging nod.
Your break did not last long enough to allow you to check on Karl or to catch up with Ren. When determined, Amalia can be quite a pusher, letting you go only in the evening when the first batch of roasted meaty goodness was ready, and the crew was dragging to the front yard any flat-surfaced objects to compensate for the lack of large tables. Everyone except Karl and Ulren that is. So, with each hand occupied with a wooden tray with streaming, spicy, juicy meat & ribs, you came to the perch where Ren was sulking over his worn armor.
While helping out Lia, you found out the primary reason why Ren acted so uncharacteristically. But despite having the likely answer, you still showered Ulren with a sunny smile and an innocent "Hey, Ren. Are you feeling alright?"
Your voice stole his attention from the nasty scrats on his cuirass. "Relatively, perhaps," he answered, shifting his frame to the side to make you some space nearby.
"Is it because of the lindwurm and that old expedition?" Your inquiry followed after sitting oneself next to him.
"Aye. More or less," Ulren confirmed, returning his stare to the breastplate piece right after. "Even though there is no way to confirm that the beast we took down is the monster that cut Lilian's life short, I still thought I would feel something when it falls dead, but I was wrong. There was no jubilation or satisfaction - just the cooling blood, horrendous stench, and emptiness where emotions should've been."
"But Ren, you are not a vengeful person, and I have a hard time wrapping it around my mind that this would be the real reason why you are upset."
"Yes," he sighed, "It's not as much about not feeling any rejoice at all, but the realization of how foolish I was to leave Dalgaards after failing to go through this shallow experience earlier. This makes me feel like an utter idiot who misjudged the situation and only multiplied misery of those I care about."
You took a moment to form a reply. Knowing Ren, you did not even need to dive into his soul to pick the right words. All you needed to do was come out clean in how you saw the issue from the aside.
"Ren, we all make mistakes, and, as someone who wouldn't have met should you act otherwise, It's not in my right to judge your decision to leave Lyf behind. But what I want to point out, that even with how tragic of a loss it was for you and Rosaline, you still ended up acting as an agent of good."
Slowly and silently, Ren retrained his stare at you, anticipating your explanation.
"I don't know much about Lilian Dalgaard, but what I did learn is that she was a selfless, compassionate person with a big heart for those around her. And yesterday, with the help of that harrowing experience of losing her, you managed to make Blugd-Tur a little bit safer place for everyone and to stave off the hunger that looms over Tevon-Talab," you put a hand on his massive shoulder before continuing. "My understanding of her will never match yours or Rosaline's, but what I can assume if Lily was here with us, she would have been proud of you for both using the story of her death to help others and for not surrendering your heart to vindictiveness." You gave his shoulder a gentle brush, "Mayhaps, if there is a place beyond Limbus to where the souls go and from where they look back at us, she is proudly smiling to you this very moment..."
Without saying a word, Ulren retrained his eyes on the armor piece resting in his hands, intently staring at his reflection distorted by the slain beast's claw mark. One would think he did not give much thought to what you just said, but you knew it was the opposite: he weighted and judged and applied your reasoning to what he believed himself. And then, after a couple of stretched silent minutes, he tiredly put the chest plate on the ground, leaning against the supporting column of the smithy's canopy and tiredly looking upwards.
"Yes. I think you are right there: that indeed sounds terribly like Lilian." He exhaled loudly and wiped his nape tiredly after making this conclusion.
"Haven't felt this weary in years," he stated, and you took it for a sign that he moved on from the issue that harrowed him.
"Then, what would you think about regaining strengths with us?" You reapplied your smile, took the trays, and stood up against Ren, offering him treats, "Amalia outdone herself today, so, how about giving it a bite and telling me which one you like more?"
The bhiroth grinned at you and stretched his hand, which took a chunky piece of ribs. After all, he did not seem to like lindwurms, even in a cooked form.
"You folks are planning to throw a party, eh?"
"Us? Oh no, no-no-nooo. I'm afraid you misunderstood something essential there, Ren: you are going to party with us. Excuses do not apply."
Sephorah peeked out from around the barn's corner, crying out: "Hey you there, if you plan on conferring privately any longer, you risk not having any chunks left for you: others and especially Hjorn are utterly destroying 'em delicious bits."
Hearing that, you looked at Ulren again with a playfully smug face, making it painfully evident that you don't need any more arguments. With a chuckle, Ren surrendered.
For the first time in many weeks, your party got to enjoy a merry time together, with issues and problems sidelined. As expected, Amalia's cooking was delectable, even though she constantly apologized for how she could've made the treats tastier. Ren and Hjorn spun out some stories about life in Eldhaetaed. Amalia also enacted her storyteller talent, enthralling those present with tidbits of folklore and tales of the faraway lands. Even Isaac's and Jory's goofing fell nicely into the atmosphere of a small celebration.
But as such uncommon moments of communal gladness went by, an uncalled guest came to Hjorn's grounds when the sun had already set. After checking who it was, Ren and Hjorn came back to you, relaying the news that it was Elgar with his hound, asking to have a talk with you. Amalia and Seph haphazardly covered your wings with cloaks before you went out to the gates to hear what Elgar had to say. He stood there, with a burning torch in his hand and a fresh bandage wrapped around his head.
"Fair evening to you, Elgar," You initiated a dialogue, peeking from the gateway, "Is there something of the matter? And how's your ear?"
"I-I... I'm sorry for disturbing you so late. And the ear is as good as it could be when half-chomped-out, I guess."
You tilted your head a little; it was apparent that there was something on Elgar's mind that he had trouble putting into words.
"Uhm. I came to ask you for help. Not on behalf of kherees, but myself. Before venturing on that rescue raid for Altan, I could not imagine the scope of your talents when it comes to reading places and sensing entities, so I thought maybe you would be willing to help me find out about my mentor too?"
"Did he also disappear?"
"No. Well, yes, but not in the way you might have thought. You see - he's dead. And was reported dead for several months now. He went on an extermination raid with other experienced hunters and never came back. Those who returned stated that he was torn to bits and devoured by a frenzied behemoth, but..." Elgar stumbled for a couple of moments, thinking how to better relay what was going on in his head. "I know it must sound pathetically sentimental, but I did not have a chance to say goodbye to him or to ask the questions that now will never be answered, so, I just thought, if you could help me to get at least some answers from the memories he might have had in his last days?"
While Elgar looked at you for an answer to his request, Krom - his oversized bear of a dog - proceeded with tickling you by licking your meat-smelling fingers. Good thing Ren was nearby to take care of the frolicsome pooch while you scrambled for an answer, which was...
[] Yes. With a party made out of yourself and
-[Locked] Ulren.Did you think he was kidding when he said he wouldn't let you go without him? -[] Sephorah
-[] Karl
-[] Amalia
-[] Isaac
-[] Jory Pick up two more party members and venture on a smaller investigative adventure.
[] No. You have other business to take care of.
-[] Spend some time with Amalia and
--[] Ask her to expand your wardrobe.(An extra set for Lucifina. Design and details will be customizable) --[] Help her make new bags, belts, and other items over a chat.(+1 to tailoring skill, some bonding with Amalia) -[] Ask Ulren, Seph, or both to escort you to town with Jory, and/or Isaac to see the local alchemists or their analogs. (Might unlock extra possibilities for Jory and Isaac, and provide some bonding with them) -[] With Ulren's supervision, explore the Limbus side for Tevon-Talab in hopes to butter Mia into helping you to practice spiritology or gather new leads on your own.(-1 Karl's affliction treatment incompetency level, ???) As stated, spend some free time on other venues. Not going for them right now WILL NOT MAKE THEM UNAVAILABLE in the future.
Uh... Sorry. It ended up larger than I expected. And there's still no cake in it >__< unless you consider Seph a cake, then, this update is half-cake.
Sorry again for the size. Gonna update ship-o-meters and char sheets tomorrow.
