Fantasy [cBn] KV_IC

[FiveElemental]

Harper Isket
Sigrid Ravenchild Pilgrim59
Hakan Ingolf shadowz1995
Árni Nyhus Worthlessplebian
Otyrgg Soviet Panda
​

Sven's Point, West Tuta
As his request to the Blind Sage left his mouth, the Commander was the first to respond. "Nouts? I'm afraid you have me at a complete lost, hexer, and that's most rare among my deferred company." Before she went on the offense. With his guard down, his limited defenses were immediately broken through, as his delicate neck was wrapped in a death bind, and his cranium suffering a devastating blow, as he was quickly defeated by his leader for daring to commit such a heinous crime of deceptive confusion.

"Wah!" Only able to let out a yelp of surprise, before be vainly struggling in her grasps for a brief moment, alas he immediately recognized that there was no escape... Not without magical means anyways, so he quickly accepted his fate. His salted hair, being ruffled into a greater mess than before. Her calloused, rough, yet caring hands was balled into a fist, as she continued to rub against his skull. He was thankful that she wasn't stabbing her knuckles into him. That soon quickly changed, as he felt pain shoothling through his skull.

"Owowowowowow!" He yelped out, while letting out an involuntary laugh at her roughhousing. The camaraderie Feeling the body heat radiating off her arms and hand, body greedily absorbing any heat allocated, towards it. any bit of warmth was a blessing in the frozen frontier. He submitted, and waited til she grew tired of messing with him, releasing his fragile neck from her grasps. Rubbing his neck in an crude attempt to numb the pain.

"I applaud your attempt, Harper, but you'll have to be better than that." Sigrid mentioned, as she chuckled aloud before releasing his neck, as he thought, "What did she mean by her statement?" His mind racing for an answer that'll satisfy him, as he was stunned briefly.

After a few moments, his mind caught up, and realized he was stuck in a perpetuated mindfog. So he quickly shedded his thoughts, and suppressed them for now, he could process her comment later. As he shifted gears and turned his attention towards Hakan. He prepared a long piece of black stone, the tip was whilted, a rope of string twined around it, as he scribbled in something in his book. An uncommon writing utensil that didn't require any ink to stain the papers with. The sound of stone rubbing on paper was audible to Hakan's enhanced senses. Harper sat down nearby the Insightful Sage, where he began speaking.

"So, what observations have you made in terms of the differences in Arcana between here and the southern lands that we are headed towards?"

"Well, what I was about to say before I was interrupt..." He chuckled at the fresh lingering memory of Sigrid's horseplay, "I actually am quite surprised that there is very little difference from here than the Sutherlands, except how it's used. The blood letting ritual that is commonly utilized here is fundamentally different from the blood letting ritual I utilize. The ritual used here is... well it's very rudimentary, it derives itself from the concept of Connection. Where it draws upon the Od itself, if you are aware of that theory. While Magi's from the Sutherland, rarely draws blood, as we consider blood to be a Sacrifice... it's quite fascinating really!"

Harper kept going on for a while, discussing and ranting for a while, until the ship was ready to move.
---------------------------------
Open Seas, World's Edge
The salty, wet winds blew against his dampened coat, the high waters crashing against the hull of the ship, each member of the crew working overtime to survive, Harper was utilizing his magics to regulate the winds as much as he could, to make sure the ship doesn't go under. At least until someone could close the masts.

"The winds are against us today..." He muttered, breathing heavily as his Reservoir was slowly draining, as the air blew away his words into obscurity. The waves teetering the deck back and forth, the crew rowing as if their lives depended on it. Their lives did depend on it, and so did his. As despite going through an intense storm, everything was going smoothly, only a fe-

As he felt the water drawing back, collecting itself for something. Perhaps he angered a Sea God for not taking it seriously, or just a plain case of bad timing. As a great tidal wave was encroaching on their ship. His visual calculus quickly concluded that if the ship does not overcome it, everyone would be swallowed whole. His mind soon filled with dread and despair, as he felt death was knocking. He was stunned by what he could do, his mind raced through a thousand possible answers through the problem. Stunning him in a self-caused lock on his mind. His fight or flight instincts making him freeze up.

"HARPER, NERISYS, YOU'RE THE WIND PROFESSIONAL CAN YOU DO SOMETHING?!" Those words pierced through his stunned mind, recognizing what he was doing to himself, a pitiful display for someone of his caliber. As he began collecting the winds around his arm.

"Aim for the rising!" He surprisingly managed to catch those words despite the overwhelming noise, as he watched Arni draw an augmented arrow straight into the rising of the wave, as it detonated in a firery inferno, evaporating and collapsing the wave enough. Hope filled the crew and Harper. As the ship managed to overcome the tall wave, joy and relief filled his heart. Before it all came crashing down once more, this time, being the descent. As the ship crossed the tidal wave, and began it's descent downward.

It all happened so fast, he couldn't react in time. As the ship went helm first, into the Eternal Blue, the overwhelming pressure knocking him out instantly.
---------------------------------
The End, ?????
The cold that enveloped his body slowly acclimated, turning the once frigid cold into a lukewarm heat. He felt nothing, except what lingered in his mind. Thoughts of himself, of what he has been through. Despite it being very limited, he enjoyed every moment of it. He felt calm, and serenity. As if nothing else mattered. Nothing... mattered...

S̸̢͝y̷͕̑̂͘h̴̦̙͆̊à̷̧̪̀'̵͕̞̓̔͌ĥ̷͈̼̣͛ ̴̟͂̒f̶̥̣͚͋h̵͙̋̄t̴̮̥͉̍ä̵͉͍̈́g̵̳̹̼̎ṉ̷͕͋̈́ ̵̬͓̣͛͗̄a̷̧̺͚̎̉̔ḥ̵̮̙͗͑ ̵͇̔͝n̴̢̤̓͐͝a̶̹͒̾f̸͔̂͐l̶̪̾ ̶͕̙̦̈͘͘a̶̰͂͊h̶͇̓͊f̸̤͝'̵͎̲̯͒ ̷͓̣̞̇͊ŷ̶͔̗͓͘ḿ̶̟g̷͎̬͒'̷͍̜̾ ̶͔̍a̸̰̾̈̄ḧ̵̝͉͠ṃ̸͆́̽g̶͈̿̍́ŕ̸͎̚͝'̶̢̥̊̈́̕ͅl̷͕̆̋̎u̷̞̞̽͗̈h̷̭̻͇̄̉̆
̷͎̤̖̐a̵̝̚h̷̻̐̀̕o̴̰̘̊͒̀ṙ̴̨̞̲̇̅ ̷̡̗̙̐͐̍Y̸̳̟̆̏ͅ'̸̫́ ̷̛̠̬͒p̷̧̠̏h̴̺̄'̵̼͑̈́ṉ̶͇͉͒͛͋g̶͚̠̐l̷̖͈̦̒̊̆ú̵͈̖ǐ̴̧̼̭ ̶̢̡̺̅m̷͔̔g̸̖̹̏r̷͕̅'̵͌͑ͅl̵̨͖͐̃̚u̷̱̐͆ḧ̴̻̤̅͌ ̶̹̾́̓m̸̧͆́ḡ̷̤é̵̫̊̂p̴̨̣̑o̴͉̝̿g̸̢͖̫͗͂g̶̗̚ ̴͖̓o̸̦͖̣͂t̸̰̙̔͋ ̵͎́̿̎y̴̧̺͊m̴̘͑́̋g̴͍̳̻͒'̴̤͐̿͘ ̵̣͉͇̈́̊͘o̴̐͜r̷̰̩̔̿̕ŕ̶͚̙'̷̩̝͙͆e̷̪̙̔

He heard the static fill his mind once again, a strange calling where he never fully understood what was trying to be communicated to him to, or what even was occuring. It only occured when his mind drifted to slumber; many old questions filled his head once again. Where did the noise originate from? Why did it only happen when every other of his senses were numbed? Only being left alone with his mind. There was only thing he knew about the noise, and that it didn't stem from himself. The noise only growing louder, and louder. His thoughts becoming numb. As if it was trying to swallow him whole. To let go of himself, and to return to once he came. To not need to question anything, to not be able to.

Yet, he refused. His body, his ideals, no. His entire being called out, to reject such a calling. It made him want to scream, to yell out to the world, to say anything. Yet, nothing came. His will may not have been beaten, but his soul was, he desperately wanted to use his voice, to be it to screech at the world for the injustices he had faced, or to praise the gods for giving him a world full of wonders and wisdom, or to simply apologize for his incompetence in the face of immense strife. He just needed his voice, to speak, to breath, in that moment, it was all that he wished for...

Ng ahlw'nafhor
---------------------------------
Marooned Beach, Unknown
Harper awoke to a gasp, as pain overwhelmed his chest, as he hacked and coughed up a large amount of sea water from his lungs. As the water left his body, he began greedily drinking up the fresh air, and continued coughing up his lungs. He was quite lucky he didn't eat much, or he would've been throwing up his meal. The beating sun heating his body, as he touched his body, feeling around to see if he was still even alive. As he poked his chest, a sharp pain spread throughout his chest, along with every breathe he took. A common sign of broken ribs.

"If I got away with just broken ribs... I'd have to say I'm the lucky one." He stated outloud to himself in between fits of coughing.

After a few minutes of recuperating on the warm sand, he attempted to stand up, shakily pushing his arms against the sand, before collapsing miserably into the floor once more. Not getting enough body strength to get up. With each attempt, he leveraged his body in a different way, taking over four tries before he managed to stand upwards, and only barely. As he surveyed and wandering the area, searching for any sign of life.

"Well, looks like you managed to make it through, eh Old Friend?" He said quietly, desperately trying to look for the positives that lingered around, no matter how small. As he pulled out his properly secured leatherbound book, and examined it. The pages were drenched, and turgid with water, but the contents were still secure. as long as he was careful, and with the right knowhow, he would be able to save most of his writings. As he placed his book back in his coat, securing it tightly. As he continued wandering. Until he saw a familiar redhead in the horizon.

"Sigrid! You made it?!" He waved and yelled out, calling out to her, before succumbing to fits of coughing once more. As he approached closer, ad she lead him to a few other Oathsworn that were was still alive. Hakan, Hargrimm and Otyrgg.

"Hakan! Good to see you're still kicking, Say, do you know any methods to dry a large amount of paper?" He asked the injured sage, attempting to return some mundanity to our desperate situation.

 

[Arnalia]

Kaija Laine​

mentions : Pilgrim59
interaction : Zombehs


Once again the sea had snatch Kaija away, embraced her and lulled her into it abyss far from the light.
As her mind slowly drifted Kaija saw ghosts of times long past. There her mother was, singing softly as she knitted next to her husband who read a very serious looking book, but hummed along. The kind captain and his crew were diligently at work. The big, sturdy and beautiful boat lightly swayed by the waves. Gradually it all faded away, their face, their voice, their smile, their love, their hope, their life, all of it.
All of it melted away as Kaija mind plunged deeper into unconsciousness. Far from life and human warmth there was naught but darkness, and nothing. Just nothing. No heaven, no hell, nor any Solsgard or whatnot. Only nothingness. Peaceful, uncaring and quiet nothingness.

Kaija body was violently taken by the need to threw up lest she suffocate. She instinctively turned to her side and cough up liter and liter of sea water before collapsing on the warm sand. Her throat parched, her lips dry and her whole body numb by pain. She let out a sigh as she hear Aglain shout and raised one of her hand to signal she was there.. This is the only time I won't complain about him being here she thought dryly.  But I swear if Sigrid had the gut to die, I'm reviving her just to punch her again. She mused as she tried to take a series of deep breaths. Despite her efforts the astrian could not stop her lips from cracking into a smile. That smile then soon turned into a chuckle then a full on laughter. Even as she holded her left side from the pain of what was surely a broken rib the astrian did not stop.


Once again the sea had cast her away.

 

[Remembrance]

​

Eyvendur Barendsson
Unknown Beach
Interactions: Arnalia
Mentions: N/A

​

The Gods are angry. They test the faith of those willing to serve; those willing to die. Eyvendur knew this was true for he and the group of wayward vagabonds with him would not escape the Gods' judgment without harm. In such times, being a cynic would be the greatest foolishness one could undertake. How could the Gods appear and wreak havoc yet not exist? His arms rotated with each heave and ached as they pushed against the evergrowing waves. His muscles tensed and his body grew stressed, the paddle rowing with such synchronization that it was hypnotizing. Even with the combined strength, Eyvendur could feel the waves building stronger and the Gods even rowdier.

Man will and can never reach the heights of the Gods despite their purpose being so. That was Eyvendur's utmost philosophy, and for him, he needed to reach the pinnacle of human talent to even get a glimpse at apotheosis. To meet his patron deity and become a dutiful servant would be to fulfill a lifelong engagement. However, he would not get a place in Alvis' chambers should he fall into the depths of these treacherous waters. Thus, he rowed. His arms buckled as they weakened but his mind was much stronger and each pull was filled with the determination to live a life worth dying.

In the end, his hypothesis about the Gods was correct.

​

His body screamed in agony as waves pushed his body up to shore. His mouth tasted of salt and sand and his body was drenched with seaweed stuck all upon him. It would be a sight for sore eyes if he had the energy to even open his own. His chest pulsed and his head felt like it had come clean off, there was no sensation on the lower parts of his body and he could not move his left arm. Eyvendur's eyes yet still remained closed as the events that transpired came back to him.

Eyvendur had been tossed aside by the vicious waves that permeated the open ocean and he was thrown deep into the unknown. He distinctly remembers feeling as though the Gods were wrestling his body, pushing and pulling him until he reached a place of limbo. The place he now resides. The surrounding air has a lack of movement and the aetheric currents that originate from the principle Alvis feel lost. They, similarly to the air, are static and immobile. There are no fluctuations or residual elements stuck to the surroundings. It is all simply constant and changeless. This may be an area the Gods have not yet found or they have forsaken it.

As Eyvendur opened his eyes, he was met with a sun far too bright and a sky all too empty. All around him, he could hear the yelling of his comrades at each other. It was incessant and maddening but irrefutably justified. What they all lived through was the wrath of the Gods. A vengeance on those who believe not. And a warning to those who believe still. The Gods were not to be taken lightly. Eyvendur rose with weariness and pain as his own two feet walked slowly across the coarse sand. His gear had parted only a few feet from him but upon closer inspection of the apparel he was presently wearing, he found the reason soldiers wore chainmail under a plate. The chest plate he had pilfered had cut deep into his skin from its sharp edges.

Eyvendur holstered his gear and walked slowly across the beach. His comrades were a bit far but they seemed to have gained enough consciousness to worry for themselves. His eyes darted to and fro before landing on a suspiciously animalistic comrade of his laughing upon the beach. Were her spirits high or had they now broken? Either could be true in this journey. Eyvendur approached the fox-eared comrade with his skin and clothing dripping water still. He looked down at the fox, his eyes glaring with peculiar intent. “From what do you find humorous?” Eyvendur questioned, wondering what could be found funny to such a hybrid.

 

[shadowz1995]

Hakan Ingolf
Unknown Shore
Interactions: Pilgrim59 Soviet Panda FiveElemental
Mentions: Arnalia

Hakan had dragged lifeless body after body and box after box until he finally started hearing the signs of life around him. While he doubted he was the only survivor, the fear was beginning to eat at him and the sound of people moaning and walking around was damn near euphoric.

The mender might've cried if he didn't have a duty to attend to.

His staff came in contact with another body and Hakan was mentally prepared to drag another corpse off the wet sand before something grabbed his leg. It caused the blind man to jump in surprise and quickly raise his staff to bring blunt force trauma induced death to whatever grabbed him. It was the gruff "Ah." that stopped him followed by a fit of coughing and hacking that Hakan had mirrored not too long ago.

By the sounds of it, Hakan was one of the first to awaken and one of the comparatively few who survived the wreck. The waterlogged "Hakan..." that followed gave the Sage suspicion as to whose identity this was.

The mage knelt down and placed a hand gingerly on the near-drowned man's head until he felt the horns. His hands then trailed down and felt the size of his hands along with familiar scarring on the face. Otrygg and Hargrimm had similar builds but the horns gave the Astrian away.


"Otrygg..." The man softly responded with a healthy measure of relief, "Glad go see you're still with us, big man. Many were not so fortunate."

His head turned up and his blank, milky eyes stared at where the bodies he had lined up were.

That being said, the healer refused to allow melancholy to take him over and he instead drew his knife and drew a fresh cut over the scabbed, salty, self-inflicted wounds he had made on his hands in the boat. He wasn't able to cast anything quick enough to prevent the boat from going under but he would make sure he would bring the survivors back to fighting strength.

Hakan laid a bleeding hand on Otrygg's sea-soaked chest and began to recite the words that he had uttered for years on end everytime someone was injured. The mana sparked to life with his blood and incantation and began mending the beserker's wounds.

Luckily, it was minor injuries all around for Otrygg and he was returned to fighting strength within a few seconds of Hakan's spell.

Just in time for a man of comparable size to Otrygg to approach from behind them. The Sage's hand instinctively flew to his staff until a heavy, familiar grunt of warning reached his ears. The sound of the heavy footfalls combined with the grunt let Hakan know that it was Hargrimm behind him and sure enough, the massive hand gripping his shoulder moments later confirmed it.

Another wave of relief, as the voyager stood up and gave Hargrimm's hand a quick squeeze of acknowledgement. "Glad to see you made it okay as well, Hargrimm."

The Wall's hand soon left his person and Hakan realized quickly that he was taking up Hakan's previously self-assigned job of moving bodies and supplies away from the water.

"Thank you, Hargrimm." He called out, "If you find any injured, bring them to me."

As the words left his mouth, another companion made his presence known. Harper greeted Sigrid who Hakan had not actually detected until he heard Harper. It was only then he could detect her light footfalls behind Hargrimm's thunderous steps and Otrygg's labored breaths. Speaking of, Harper's own breaths sounded fairly labored and strained. His steps came unevenly as he approached, as if he had a limp.

"Hakan! Good to see you're still kicking, Say, do you know any methods to dry a large amount of paper?"

The mage's brow furrowed at the question, causing him to stand and turn around to face the fellow scholar, "You didn't use a water repellant spell?" Hakan asked in surprise. "Yes, here." He corrected quickly, drawing on the Aetherium of his blood to cast a very minor spell of water repelling and heating on Harper's books. It took very little effort and Aetherium out of Hakan to do it and so, it was no skin off his bones to oblige.

Hakan then quickly chain chanted a healing spell and gently pressed a hand on Harper's chest. The man's gait and breath was enough confirmation that something was wrong and sure enough, there was. Two of Harper's ribs were cracked but thankfully not broken.

A simple fix that took moments to repair. "I'll teach you a spell to keep water out of your texts later. Once all the injured are healed." He tapped his satchel twice to show that it was completely dry, unlike the rest of his waterlogged apparel.

"Glad to see you alive, Red!" He then called out to Sigrid. Truly, the man was glad to see her alive and well. It was a sad day and seeing some people Hakan would consider friends made it out of the wreck with minor injuries was a blessing. "Are you hurt any-"

The Blind One's words were cut off by something that sounded like.... laughter? Pained laughter at that. The healer's eyes were cast downwards as he listened to it, turning his head in the direction of the strange sound.

"Is that Kaija?" He asked incredulously, unsure if anyone else's ears could pick up on the distant laughter.​

 

[Worthlessplebian]

Árni Nyhus
Oceanic Abandonment​

Pilgrim59 shadowz1995 FiveElemental Soviet Panda and others Mentions: Arnalia

The waves crashed and bashed the crew of the crimson-haired Raven, the Wolf's lugholes swore that the wooden planks began to creek and break. After releasing his pivotal shot—which incurred great success as far as Árni could perceive—he made a mad dash that slashed through the wind to an oar. Quickly, he worked to resynchronise to the rhythm with the crew. His teeth grit as the rain bit into his eyes, forced to close them. Forced to row without sight though vision might not be as useful in this ferociously feral storm that should be more aptly compared to an angry toddler in how it pummeled this vessel. The Wolf is not hapless in this condition, his senses were not as acute as the sightless seer that healed, but years of nocturnal hunts honed him above the chaff of Solarians and even some Astrians.

Sigrid's cry alerted Árni. Too little, too late. A curlicue fist of seawater struck the wolf-hunter, his cranium intimately met the deck of the boat. His cowl draped over him as did the rain, his magnificent blue spheres took in the darkness of his world. His vision disappeared into the Abyss of the consciousness. The final sensations were of the rattling deck then his body tumbling along with the vessel and finally the ocean's icy embrace. The recession of his mind completed.

A happy whistle
He sees the beautiful grass
His sisters hold hands
They smile with joy, play their games
At day's end, they return home.

They call for mother
But no answer beams inside
Confused they wander
Their home empty, not benign
A bloody muddy body

Their mother death's bed
Stuck like a roasted, sad pig
Lungs pitched like wing sides
Rabidly, murdered by who?
Where oh, where is our father?

Here is your father!
A head-splitting cry-attack
One child falls, one yells
A claw silenced her good, snap!
Eye-wide fear compel to run.

The forest beckons but not comforting, the young boy cries: "No, no, no!" ad infinitum with seeping, salty tears down his rosy cheeks. His mad spurt allowed nothing to be seen, the darkness soon overcame him. His face planted against another man, strong of body he did not budge. He looked up. "YOU!" He cried with grief and aversion and dread. His father's face with a bedlam grin. No words escaped as his grown hands wrapped themselves around little Árni's little neck. An abhorrent cackle that pierced the wind, the trees, and the sky as Tryggvi's face melted. First skin, then muscle and vessels. His blue eyes bubbled then popped! They stained him. The ghastly chortle did not stop as liquified brain matter seeped from his orifices onto Árni. It burns, it burns! He cried in mute horror.

A red feather from the black sky fell down on little Árni's forehead. A flood of memory entered his mind. A singular thought formed soundly within: "This is not real."

A shattering howl of a wolf burst forth from Árni's lips. No longer afraid, his eyes betrayed the searing conniption. A blow fragmented the illusionary Tryggvi as Árni's body returned in full to him. The forest of his imagination... Of his memory is quiet once more. A single pillar of light shined down on him, his feet left the ground as he floated upwards. And upwards and upwards until... WATER! Once again, Árni aghast but not from terror. His limbs struggled, clawing through the depths. Finally, his skin touched the air as he hooked himself to a piece of water-stranded debris. His cheeks filled with the aquatic refuse from his body before emptied. His wanting gasps were loud for all to hear. He silenced them when his lungs took in enough breaths. His eyes saw the carnage, yet he is unmoved. He swam to shore, moving the dead sailors aside with callous disregard. His feet propped him up, but a piece of stranded wall held him aloft. A proper, short reprieve as he regained his bearings. Weaponry, gone. Dressing, shredded. Body? Ached with pain. Particularly that embedded shard of a sailor's sword in the centre of his abdomen. A hand ripped apart the leather around the blade, exposing damaged skin. It did not bleed, but Árni knew better than to rip it out like a fool. His hands ripped the cleanest cloth off of him and wrapped the site of the injury, then he used the remaining leathers to fashion a circular fastener so that the blade doesn't lodge itself deeper or fall out. His hope is to find Hakan or better medical aids.

He walked carefully.

Until he found survivors. By the grace of higher powers, they lived. He made his way to them. "Survived." He exclaims before answering Hakan's question. "That is her." A hand placed on the blind man's shoulder. "Injured, object lodged in my stomach. Intestines fine, but need help." He explained with supernatural calmness, but silently hoping that it isn't too late. That he isn't a dead man.

 

[Zombehs]

Aglain Ervak​

Slightly Inland, Mystery Island
Anybody.
​

Breathing in slowly, Aglain rubbed at his throat for a moment after he strained it with a shout that reached for distant shores. He planted his spear into the sand butt first as he stood there for a bit longer and looked out over the beach to see if his slight efforts had been at all rewarded. A short lived chuckle escaped him as the thin hand shot up out of the sand just some distance away. Of course she would be the one to respond, but it seemed the task of actually helping her out was bound for another. Whether it be the Stonewall or the strange Earl that hefted the other Astrian out of the sand mattered little to Aglain in the end.

His eyes drifted down towards the tools that had been deposited at his feet before Aglain looked up at the treelines. It was less a matter of if dangers lurked on this island with them and more a question of exactly what kind they were. While it would have been nice if the Gods granted their motely crew some reprieve after surviving the sea's tender ministrations, he expected that trials and tribulations would be a constant as long as Sigrid led the way. A heavy sigh escaped him at that, and he hefted his spear up before spinning it about to catch the pack by one of its straps and haul it up from the sand. It saved Aglain the trouble of bending down to pick up the waterlogged bag that now dangled from the tip as he rested the shaft on a shoulder.

As the ground beneath his feet shifted from the loose sand to something a bit more solid, Aglain retrieved the bag and upended its contents onto the ground. He knelt and sorted through its contents for the moment and a waterlogged wrapping was tossed over his shoulder with a grunt of disgust. A more well wrapped bundle was opened and to his pleasant surprise, some of the smoked meat had survived its dunk in the ocean. He palmed the pieces that were not soaked before he stood again and slung the emptied bag over a shoulder.

Stepping into the treeline, Aglain took a few deep breaths to steady himself before he cast out his senses. Though he was simply here to retrieve some kindling and appropriate firewood, he also kept an eye out for any signs that their band had been noticed by any of the island's inhabitants. Had one of their numbers been dragged away already and gone unnoticed in the aftermath of everything else? Or were they simply being watched with caution and wariness? Perhaps Aglain was simply a bit paranoid and they were truly alone on the island. It was hard not to be at least a bit on edge after a near death experience, and Aglain spun his spear around between the trees as he deftly weaved it between the numerous obstructions. The martial practice eased his mind a bit and the familiar motions sharpened his focus even further before he brought the spear to a stop, tip thrumming from the halted force as it raced down the shaft. Then came the more menial and mundane task of gathering kindling and wood for the fire he was supposed to build.

​

​

 

[Huntertabbysandshark3]

Kara
Interaction: (others in general)​

Like a twig floating upon a river so to was their ship and much like that twig The crew and their vessel where truly and the mercy of the seas violent disposition thrown and tossed around all of them sunk bellow the wave assumably never to be seen again. Yet this was not the case it seemed that prehaps another God found them worthy enough to keep living first Kara tail burst form the sand as the rest of her followed suite being partly buried in the beach for some reason. Her gear scattered around her but her most precious thing that old blade still remained secure in its holding. Using it to prop herself up many gurgle chokes followed as swallowed sea water was flushed out form her mouth. "Well at least we are alive... I guess" kara mumbled looking for where the others had gone dragging herself towards the treeline slowly there where indeed tbe unfortunate corpses of those that hadn't been so lucky strewn around she couldn't help but frown... no one deserved to die like that.. but they'd all knew The risks. It did seem they where stranded now... somewhere truly unfamiliar. And it seemed she was prehaps one of the last to stir to life again. She'd collapse under a tree exhausted and feeling like some bones had been broken in their stranding. "Sorry about being....late, but it gonna take more.... then some water.... to kill me" she'd say long pauses between every few words to catch her breath whoever was near her where still somewhat hazy the sense most certainly having been knocked out of her by their sudden unintentional arrival.

 

[Nessi]

Solfrid Dahl
Interactions: shadowz1995
Mentions: Soviet Panda
​

Solfrid shot up off the ground and looked around her surroundings. The last thing she remembered was loud yelling, and a waving crashing into her, sending her flying. Solfrid looked down, and was relived to find nothing had stabbed her when the ship had crashed. However, as she went to take a deep breath in, a sharp pain bloomed through her chest, and Solfrid winced as she lurched over.
"Damn it all, broken ribs." Solfrid muttered to herself. She picked up her spear that laid close to her, and used it to help her walk around the beach she woke up on.

It didn't take her long to find survivors, and Solfrid could identify multiple people huddled around in a circle. She spotted Otrygg, but decided to talk to the berserker later. There relationship was complicated, on one end, she wanted nothing more than to help Otrygg be relived from whatever demons he fought. On the other hand, they were practically strangers, she felt as if it was almost rude to ask what exactly one would have to do in order to let out blood curdling screams that make them run and hide from all other life. Solfrid pushed the thought aside, and went to the most popular person at the moment, Hakan, the blind sage.

"Hakan, I hope your not too injured from the slightly...rough event we've went through." She announced before she fully set herself down next to him. "I hate to ask, but I've cracked some ribs, at least I think I have. Do you mind if you...well, help me a bit?" Solfrid asked quietly.

 

[shadowz1995]

HAKAN INGOLF
Unknown Shore
Interactions: Worthlessplebian Huntertabbysandshark3 Nessi

Mentions: Pilgrim59 (Stated in the beginning but he was listening out for her the entire time)


A hand fell on the blind healer's shoulder and the familiar voice of Anri was announced behind him. Him and Anri were from the same village and while Hakan was a few years his elder, word had reached him of the Wolf's endeavors. As he had demonstrated before, the man was a Sage in his own right with blade and bow and Hakan was not only glad to have him along but glad that he survived the wreck.

Though he wouldn't for much longer if that wound was left alone, "Well, at least she seems to be in good spirits but she sounds hurt. I'm going to need someone to bring her to me." He replied with a quick "scan" of the area around them. The injured were starting to pile up as they sought out his specialized capabilities.

The mage kept an ear open for Sigrid's voice while he let his hands roam Anri's torso to find the point of interest that he was referring to. The business end of a broken broadsword was embedded in the man's lower abdomen. It had indeed seemed to miss any vital organs but it obviously could not be left alone. Anri did well in leaving the shard of metal in as it would have caused catastrophic bleeding had he pulled it out.

"Hell of a warrior, Anri. Most men would be yelling, screaming, and writhing on the ground, much less standing and casually telling me there is a sword in their belly."

The healer meant it mostly as a joke but it was nothing but truthful. Anri was lucky no organs had been pierced but to be casually walking around without much of a complaint was definitely not in the realm of average. It wasn't unheard of, as Hakan had treated several people who had the same curious trait but definitely abnormal.

That being said, the wolf warrior was bleeding freely and once the sword was pulled free, it would be much worse.

The healer set to work, using both hands to inscribe a more intricate Rune of mending, willing the Aetherium in his blood to obey his command. He felt the pull on his sizeable resevoir, pouring energies of life and reconstruction into Anri. The wound began to close within seconds and it was only just as the skin was about to stitch over the iron that the Blind One pulled the blade free in one quick, effortless motion. Blood ebbed quickly, eager to escape its fleshy pathways before being stemmed by the healing spell seconds later.

The skin stitched closed and the spell was complete, leaving behind only a clean scar to join the many others Anri had collected in his lifetime.

Hakan gave the hooded archer a respectful nod combined with a content smile before turning his sightless eyes in another direction.

A woman, by the sound of her voice, had managed to drag herself near the line of fallen Tutans and seemed content to lay there. Hakan hadn't noticed that she was actually alive because Hargrimm had been dragging bodies to that location over and over and would sometimes carry two at a time. The sound of someone being dragged through sand had been muffled by that.

However, now that he focused on her, he could tell she wasn't well. No one except the ones he had healed were, but her breathing was particularly labored, almost agonal. Hakan quickly limped his way over to the woman and just before he was on top of her, his staff came in contact with something just beneath him.

At first, he thought it was corpse's leg and was about to step over it but the consistency of the tap was wrong. Out of curiosity, he knelt down and brushed the object with his fingers and damn near jumped out of his skin. It had felt like scales. Reptilian in nature and he now thought he had stumbled upon a impressively sized snake but upon further inspection that felt wrong too.

His deft fingers traced the scale patterns and the breathing of the woman who was talking before was right in front of him now and getting worse. He reached out and came in contact with the woman's face. She was cold and wet to the touch but also her skin was clammy. Never a good sign.

It dawned on him that this woman was Astrian and that tail must have belonged to her. In certain cultures of Astrian, touching animal appendages such as wings, tails, horns, or ears was seen as an act equivalent to sexual assault. It didnt mean that this woman felt that way but it was better to be wrong about the former than the latter.

So, the blind man bowed his head to the woman apologetically. "My apologies, Miss. I didn't mean to lay my hands on your tail. I thought it was a large snake at first. Hence, why I jumped."

The Sage chuckled, embarrassment clear in his tone and face. The smile was then quickly replaced with a neutral expression as his hands were put to work, checking the woman for the cause of her woes. His hands instinctively went to her ribs, just under the breasts and to the left. Sure enough, her ribs were the culprit. Broken not cracked like Harper's were.

The healer made a grimace before looking up to where he imagined the woman's eyes should be, based on her position. "Ribs are broken. Good news, is it shouldn't take long. Bad news is that rapidly healing broken bones hurts a lot more than most other injuries. I'll try to make it as painless as possible but I apologize for the discomfort."

The cuts on his hands had already begun to close and he needed to take a second to drag his knife across each one to reopen the wounds there. Once the blood began flowing freely again, he fished out a small vial containing a light purple liquid and handed it to the woman. "It's a potion I made and ehanced with magic that will help with the pain."

Once the woman drank it, Hakan would once again draw his runes and begin the healing process. Bones, thankfully, never took long but it was always hard to watch for the squeamish. The reason being is that one could see the bones shifting underneath the skin and realigning themselves into their proper positions. Depending on how bad the break was, the more pain it would cause. The cracks and snaps of the bones realigning would be audible to any who were nearby and while it only took mere seconds, the process was hard to watch.

Once the blind man was done, he fished another vial from his pouches and drank it greedily. It was the same ethereal blue liquid he drank before they left Tuta. His potion to regenerate Aetherium. His reserves weren't tapped, about halfway, but Hakan made it a habit to make sure he stayed topped off in case of an emergency. Like the man who had his throat split open during the previous assault. The one who now lined the dead alongside his brother.

"There, you should be okay now." He said with an apologetic smile before standing to go rejoin the others he was with.

It wasn't long before someone else required his services. Solfrid had found her way over to the gathering of survivors and just like the other, seemed to be walking with a limp and labored breathing.

"Hakan, I hope your not too injured from the slightly...rough event we've went through." She said to him to which he responded, "Well enough, dear friend. Just fatigued." He half-lied.

"I hate to ask, but I've cracked some ribs, at least I think I have. Do you mind if you...well, help me a bit?" She asked in an almost embarrassed voice. Quietly, perhaps to not bring attention to herself.

Hakan smiled warmly, the gesture reaching his colorless gaze "That seems to be going around today." He replied with a light laugh.

He heard the woman seat herself in the sand just beside him and he knelt down to meet her. Just as he did with Harper and Kara, he inscribed the same Rune he had drawn multiple times recently and exerted his will upon the Aetherium to bring the woman back to fighting strength.

Hakan was indebted to this woman. Her skill with a forge and hammer was enough to write stories about. The woman had crafted a lifelong companion that laid right beside the two of them as the Sage worked over her. It had been years ago, not long after Hakan had been blinded that he came to her. To say that Solfrid's reputation proceeded her was a gross understatement.

She was described to him by others as a beauty. Blonde of hair,striking blue eyes, and fair skinned. The blacksmith was also described at intimidating and fearsome. Never afraid to assert her dominance and control over men much larger than herself to prove a point. A valkyrie given form, is the way he heard it most.

Yet, in the few, brief interactions he had with her over the years, she had given him the impression of a stalwart woman with a temperament as strong as the weapons she forged. A steadfast ally and a deadly opponent despite not being a "warrior" in the traditional sense.

His thoughts came back to the present as the damaged ribs were finished mending and Hakan then stood to his feet. One hand held his staff, forged by the very smith in front of him, the other outstretched for her as an offering to help her to her feet.

"Come, Solfrid. You're smithing days are far from over." He said with a kind, half smile.​

 

[Arnalia]

Kaija Laine​

Interaction : Remembrance
Mention : shadowz1995


Eyvendur approached the fox-eared comrade with his skin and clothing dripping water still. He looked down at the fox, his eyes glaring with peculiar intent. “From what do you find humorous?” Eyvendur questioned, wondering what could be found funny to such a hybrid. Hello there ! Glad to see you alive too she though wryly. Kaija peaked at him with one eyes and chuckled. "What's not...to find humorous....my Lord ?" She jested, opened her eyes fully and continued with a smirk. "The sea...and the gods...either hate us...for we are stranded...or love us...to the moon...for we are alive." She looked at the sky her breathing a little ragged and short despite her apparent calmness. "What's....not to find...humorous ?" She said smiling widely at him.  Breathing hurt, feels like my chest was crushed she thought. Face sweating a little, Kaija then touched her forehead, feeling a little dizzy. "Oh dear....it seem I have....a fever," she tried to let out an exaggerated sigh that came out sounding more pained than she intended,"would you be...a gentleman....and fetch Hakan...for me ?" Using her free hand she pointed at her right foot that still had some blood on it. "This poor girl refuse...to carry me." She shook her head and looked at Eyvendur.

 

[Worthlessplebian]

Árni Nyhus
Oceanic Abandonment 2.0​

Remembrance shadowz1995 Arnalia

"I shall retrieve her in a moment." The Wolf Warrior told the Blind Healer. The pain moved from dripping droplets to weak streams. He has dealt with pain almost his entire life, so he has grown accustomed to this beautiful expression of life. He has heard of an astronomical case of a maiden being immune to pain and unlike his peers, he thought that her life would be so miserable. His idle thoughts were sundered when the Blind Sage pulled the blade out of his stomach. A pain-punched groan escaped the archer. "Believe you me, I feel pain as anyone else. You are right that my threshold for agony is higher than most." His wounds wrinkled by the wonder wizard's wonderwork. A breath of relief Árni released as he gave a whispering thank you to the Sage.

He gathered the removed bandages from his wound and began moving over to Kaija's position, along the way he gathered or snapped two planks of wood. He found the Jarling there as well, quite interesting that he survived as well. With weapons in fact. He managed to hear the tail-end of their exchange. "Hmph," He replied to Kaija's suffering-induced humour whilst looking down on her. Kneeling over to the broken foot, he sandwiched the ankle carefully before wrapping it tightly with the leftover makeshift bandages. "This should alleviate your discomfort and lessen the pain of carrying." Then he wrapped an arm under torso and legs. He heaved and his knees achieved stability. He looked to Eyvendur and nodded his head towards the direction of the others. With the vixen-shaper in hand or rather in arms, Nyhus returned to Hakan The Healer. But while carrying, Árni asked. "How is it that you transform? Is that rune-weaving or your nature?"

 

[mewmilk]

Ásta Reidr
The Coast, Unknown Island

Interactions: shadowz1995 Mentions: Arnalia Worthlessplebian ​

Asta felt a set of powerful arms pull her to the shore with surprising gentleness. When she opened her eyes to see that it was Hargrimm, she was glad to have survived his help. Storms could be softer than the mute giant at times, and she remembered well how he‘d tossed the stragglers aboard.

Everything was warm here, from the ground beneath her to the water soaking her body. It was unnatural and strange, but not exactly unpleasant. She almost preferred it to frigid Tuta, but she didn’t get to enjoy the warmth for long.

Feeling water coming up her throat, she rolled over onto her stomach, barely propping herself up before her body expelled its salty contents. A slew of colorful curses followed in between her coughing fits, as she stumbled onto her feet. All around her, she could hear her fellow oathsworn doing the same, though they numbered fewer than before.

Asta didn’t dwell on the missing faces - that was just a matter of course in this way of life. The only thing to mourn was that their equipment could no longer be recovered to recoup their recent losses. The debris lining the beach told her enough about the ship’s fate, and that of the supplies on it.

Worse still was the pounding. Though her body appeared unscathed, it felt as though a storm was battering the inside of her skull. Like the most terrible hangover. Absently, she wondered if one could get drunk on seawater, then let out a hearty, if somewhat pained, laugh at the thought. Mitr might be a fickle prick, but at least she wasn’t drinking with the fish. That much was enough to be grateful for, and Asta knew better than to tempt fate with blasphemy.

With gritted teeth, the little solarian trudged along the beach in search of her axe. She’d traded the thing for an oar when the storm began and hadn’t felt its touch since, but she held onto the hope that it had washed up with her. And, by some good fortune, it had. She picked the weapon up from where it lay and brushed off the grit, feeling more confident with the familiar shaft in hand.

All there was to address now was her headache, but the old seer seemed preoccupied with those bearing more serious injuries. Still, she went on to greet him. "Hail, blind one. It's good that you're breathing. There's a hammerin' in my head, suppose I mighta hit it when we went under. I reckon it's minor, so I'll wait for you to treat the little fox there first." She said, gesturing with her head at the approaching pair. "But I'd be grateful if you'd spare me a tonic once you're done."

 

[Ramjammer]

Death felt a lot grittier than he'd expected it to. Now the darkness surrounding him? That, Jox had foreseen. Dark and cold. It was the way that all sons and daughters of Tutia died. He didn't account for the constant roaring in his ears, however. It was not the crackling roar of a great fire as outlined in the Rostakor's most sacred teachings. No, it was a hissing crash. One thousand lost souls clamoring to be heard again by those they'd left behind. The Astrian certainly didn't recall reading about that in the Tome of Keepers. But then again, he'd never died before, so really, the entire experience was new to him.

The rat man cracked an eye open warily, bracing himself to behold the afterlife for the first time. Instead, pain lanced through his skull, and Jox hissed loudly. It was far too bright for his eyes to handle, and he squeezed them shut tightly. Why in the hell was everything so painful? Every nerve was aflame. Every one of his bones ached. It made no sense at all. Physical pain was the curse of the living. And as far as Jox knew, he was the opposite. Right? The Astrian puzzled over his situation for a spell and came to a pair of conclusions. Either he was in Hell, which was pretty bad and meant that he'd done something tremendously wrong during his lifetime. Or, worse still, he was very much alive and all the suffering that went along with that would continue.

Alive he was, for the aforementioned suffering, began almost as soon as the thought entered his brain. A sharp pain erupted at the end of Jox's snout, and his eyes shot wide open in shock. He struggled to get his bearings, certain that he was under attack and since he'd reasoned that he was alive, then he could die too, which made his ordeal an exercise in frustration. One or the other would suit him just fine.

The rat man was almost crosseyed as he stared at his snout. Though his vision wavered, there was no mistaking the small, fuzzy shape resting on the sand just in front of him. A crab, upon approaching the Astrian's prone form, had taken Jox's nose in its pincer and eyed it curiously with beady little eyes. Jox then realized several things in rapid succession.

The ship he'd been on had capsized in the storm despite their best efforts. He'd managed to survive the tumultuous waves somehow and washed ashore. Crabs seemed to be hateful little bastards regardless of their land of origin.

Had anyone else aboard the long-gone vessel survived, over the endless crash of the waves, they might catch the sound of a rat man's shouting.

 

[Sacrosanctis]

ANJA LINDSRÖM
Inland, Unknown Island
Interactions: Ramjammer
​

Anja had always possessed an elemental affinity for the ocean, possibly a result of her Lesni blood. Her natural attunement was further bolstered when she imbibed herself with the blood of a kraken, an ancient beast which made those deep waters its domain. But nothing could prepare her for the descent that she and her fellow Oathsworn faced on those belligerent waves. She was engulfed and darkness swiftly overcame her, before she could even have time to contemplate the possibility that she might die.

First she felt nothing but numbness, but that was quickly overtaken by an overwhelming ache. Her limbs flailed in the sand, barely able to handle her weight as she dragged herself ashore, limping. She shuddered from a chill which seeped through her bones, her drenched skin crawling from goosebumps. She grew oriented enough to check for injuries, and miraculously it seemed that there was only the aching and the lightheadedness. The bodies that piled around her were not so lucky. She had no great ambitions in life, but even so, the thought that she could have perished so easily certainly affected her piety. She only cared for the gods so long as their interests aligned with her own, but the thought of such an undignified death made it tempting to say an especially thorough prayer just in case.

Anja jumped as something nearby screamed, and she failed to blink away the water in her eyes and determine what it was. She stood frozen, suddenly realizing the deep hollowness in her gut. She couldn't remember the last time she was so hungry. And standing just before her eyes seemed to be a steaming, juicy delicacy of cooked flesh. She could not comprehend how the unidentifiable morsel was somehow capable of speech, but that did not matter. She was no royalty, yet she had a very low tolerance for easily gratified discomfort. She spared no time to allow her mind to clear, creeping towards her prey with jagged movements while doing her best to remain stealthy. She opened wide and bit deep into the thing's exposed neck...only to receive a mouth-ful of rat hair.

 

[Arnalia]

Kaija Laine
​

Soon after she pronounced those words she hear footstep.
"Hm ?" she turned her head and saw Árni wrapping her ankle and foot with a makeshift cast. Before she could react he lifted her and took her into his arms, walking toward Hakan and the others.
On the way the warrior wolf asked. "How is it that you transform? Is that rune-weaving or your nature?"
Kaija shook her head and smiled softly. "Mama always....told me......it was a gift....from the moon," she chuckled,"long ago....the night sky.....was...very...very... dark....so the moon.....asked all the animals.......to help it....light the sky," she closed her eyes,"the fox....arrived too late.....to become....a star.....so it asked....the moon....what it could....do," she breathed softly,"the moon.....said.....that it could.....help others.....by staying....here,"the corner of her mouth curved up a little,"and....mama....said it was.....why we....tähti kettu.....can shift....to.....help....the....moon."

Kaija grew silent as she felt Árni slow down and hear voices—sounding more and more faint—in which her mind was still able to recognized Hakan.

 

[shadowz1995]

Hakan Ingolf
Unknown Shore
Interactions: Nessi Worthlessplebian mewmilk Arnalia

Mentioned: Huntertabbysandshark3


After the blacksmith had been pulled to her feet, Hakan turned and faced the person who had addressed him. A woman by the sound of it and not one he recognized. Must have been one of the crew that he had not gotten around to meeting just yet. Regardless, it was a relief to see another live person.

She mentioned that her head was pounding something fierce and while Hakan may have just given the woman a tonic like she asked normally, circumstances were anything but normal at this given time. They had many casualties and just as many injured and Hakan couldn't take the risk of using a valuable healing potion or analgesic on a minor injury. At the same time, it may not be minor and that wasn't a risk Hakan was willing to take.

"I won't give you a potion, Miss. But I will see what I can do to eliminate the cause of this pain." He replied with a polite nod.

The healer's fingers seem to crackle with a blue energy as his fingertips went up to the woman's head to feel what was wrong with it. He passed over her face and scalp and his fingers had an almost feather-like caution to them. In his examination, he took notice that this woman was not Solarian but Lesni. The fact did not faze him but his eyebrows did raise for a moment when his fingertips touched her ears.

It was mere moments until he recognized the issue. There was a fair sized lump on the back of the Lesni woman's head and it was a safe bet that it was the cause of her grief. With well practiced precision, the man drew a minor Rune with his blood and healed her injury within a few seconds.

"There was some swelling that was probably the cause of your pain. Jarred your skull a little and might have caused some bruising on the inside. Shouldn't be an issue anymore." He said politely, removed his spell hand from her head and now turning back to cackling fox Arni had confirmed was Kaija.

He had only caught the tail end of her conversation with the wolf but what he had heard wasn't good. Not the context but the way the woman was speaking. It caused the Sage's heart to kick into gear as she did not sound well.

Not at all.

The Blind One knelt down beside her once Arni placed her in the sand and Hakan immediately got to work, doing what he did best.

Kaija seemed to be losing consciousness and that was never a good sign. "Oh dear Kaija. What have you done to yourself this time?" He whispered, more to himself than to anyone around him. His hands deftly began to examine the shapshifter's body, searching for the cause of her strife.

The cause was the same as the other Astrian woman he had healed just a second ago. Multiple ribs were completely broken and so was one of her legs. The shin had been twisted to the point of breaking and while her ribs had punctured her organs, they were definitely making it difficult to catch her breath.

The mage found it comical how situations always seem to appear to confirm the thoughts he had seconds prior. Hakan then fished out the same light purple vial he had given the woman prior to Kaija and gingerly poured its contents bit by bit past her lips.

"I know you know, Kaija but just for confirmation. Healing broken bones is going to hurt. A lot. The potion will help make it bearable but... brace yourself. You've taken the title for "patient with the worst injury today" from Anri." He said in a light hearted tone before his face fell into a serious, focused expression.

Again, the sightless Sage made his signs, one for each broken area and began the recovery process. As it was before, the afflicted bones could be seen shifting underneath the fox-lady's wet clothing. Popping, snapping, and cracking back into its proper position before finally being allowed to heal properly. The leg in particular was a bad break and would no doubt cause the woman a fair amount of pain as it performed the same contortion act as the ribs.

When it was all said and done, the blind Solarian sat back on his heels and took a deep breath. He wiped the developing sweat off of his brow and look up at forever empty void before turning his attention to the wolven archer.

"Thank you, Arni. Any more time and things might have gotten dangerous for her."

​

 

[Remembrance]

​

Eyvendur Barendsson
Unknown Beach -> Unknown Forest
Interactions: N/A
Mentions: Worthlessplebian Arnalia shadowz1995 Pilgrim59

​

Before Eyvendur could lift the fox-eared companion of his, Arni, the Wolf’s Axe, had gotten to her. He couldn’t say he was not glad to have had the burden of carrying a fellow warrior lifted off his shoulders, especially considering his lack of a usable arm. It would not have been as ceremonious to bear her upon his shoulders, not unlike transporting a bag of grain.

There he stood, his feet sinking slowly into both coarse and soft sand. The bleeding from his chest wounds was minor at best and it lacked the urgency of tending compared to the others. His arm, however, was a different story. It was senseless much like himself but had little in the way of movement. The most likely culprit for his arm’s lack of usability would be his shoulder. Eyvendur was not proficient in his ability to determine the cause of health problems. In general, he was usually the cause of said health problems.

One thing Eyvendur did know was that the group would not survive without an encampment and fresh water and food. He lifted his feet out from the sand and limped his way towards the surrounding grove. It was not as dense as the snow-covered forest-lands of Tuta but it seemed to go on forever. His eyes, though enhanced, could not make out an end to the forest. Eyvendur was no survivalist, he knew not the specifics of foraging, neither did he truly care to learn. Should he return back to his earldom, it would mean little for a ruler.

Cautious steps of his covered branches and moss as he traversed the woodland. The air was damp and moist, and similar to the beach, static and unmoving. Sweat naturally formed across his forehead and under his waterlogged chest plate. Eyvendur believed that, at best, they were no longer in Tuta. The warmness of the surrounding gave his hypothesis merit but for as long as there were no identifiable markers, it would be difficult to determine the location they landed at. In consequence, Eyvendur only knew of one person in the party who knew the outside lands.

Eyvendur arrived deep into the forest, his ears and eyes turned up as best as he could. He could hear the sounds of nature permeate around him. Birds chirped, steps crunched branches, and animals grunted. The forest was alive in all aspects that one could describe it as such. However, Eyvendur was no hunter and by no means was he confident in chasing down a beast with a single usable arm. In this situation, he’d have to take a different approach.

As the Earl understood it, if an animal in Tuta would eat it, a person may too. All Eyvendur would have to do is find a creature feasting upon a berry or the such and simply infer that it must be safe for them as well. He could also find traces of it being eaten but that gave much more room for error than he would like. To be completely straight, there was more than enough room for error already with the current plan.

“Time to get to work.” Eyvendur spoke softly, perking up his ears and following the closest sounding thing moving with quadrupedal legs.

 

[Ramjammer]

To find himself best by crabs mere moments after waking up was insulting enough. That something else would call up the audacity to bite him was more than Jox could stand. A sudden weight on his back, and the sensation of blunted teeth gnawing on his neck should have rightfully scared him. But Jox instead found the entire ordeal annoying at best, and downright offensive at worst. The Astrian's unseen foe wasn't very heavy, and their bite left a great deal to be desired. To think that they'd get ahold of his neck and then fail to kill him. Shameful!

Jox didn't give his assailant the dignity of being punched by him. He simply maneuvered all four of his limbs beneath his body and rolled over onto his back like an oversized dog. The act was borne of petulance. The Rat man figured that if the thing that was trying to kill him wasn't even going to do a good job of it, he'd match their lack of effort in return.

Satisfied that he had knocked his foe loose, Jox rolled back over and stood, albeit shakily. Being thrashed around by rough seas had done a number on him, and every muscle in the rat's body ached with fatigue. The Astrian was not really in the position to be fighting, but despite coming under assault, he wouldn't have to do battle just yet. A shock of pink hair and pointed ears greeted his eyes as Jox took his first proper look at his assailant. The Lesni, Anja. She had an affinity for the waters, and so Jox could see how she'd survived. What he couldn't get was why she'd been dead set on chewing his spine out. Had they reunited under different circumstances, the Astrian would have been relieved to see another of their band alive and well. Instead, he blinked owlishly at the woman.

"Did you just bite me? With those little teeth of yours?" He asked in an appalled tone.

"Were we not allies, I'd wallop you for the insult." The Astrian growled, flashing his own teeth at Anja. "And if you planned on eating me, you could have at least checked to see if I'd expired first."

Jox grumbled and rubbed stiffly at the back of his furred neck. He was being a bit hard on the girl. Things could have been far worse for the both of them, and a familiar face in unknown territory was not something one should so easily turn their back on.

"Apologies. I've yet to regain my senses. It's a good thing that you're alive enough to take a bite out of me. I'd be in a far worse mood digging your grave." Jox rasped.

A cursory glance revealed more sands stretching off as far as he could see. Jagged rocks sporadically dotted the land. Past the dunes, the Rat man could see a line of trees and thick vegetation. If anyone else had survived, they were probably there, taking shelter from the elements. The rat's nose twitched and a flare of pain rose immediately. He wouldn't be catching anyone's scent with an injured snout and so turned his baleful gaze on Anja.

"Have you seen any of our companions?" The Astrian asked lowly. The chances that all of them survived were dismal. But Jox wouldn't allow himself to worry about the dead. His energy was best put towards finding those still alive and able to be saved. As for the rest, only the Gods and the waves had any say in where they ended up.

Sacrosanctis

 

[Sacrosanctis]

ANJA LINDSTRÖM
Location: Inland, Unknown Island
Interactions: Ramjammer ​

Anja frowned as her vision cleared and she recognized her rat companion. As good as it was that she wasn't completely alone, she couldn't help feeling somewhat disappointed that the mirage wasn't real. She raised a brow when he growled in frustration. "Is that a challenge? Insult or not, I would love to see you try." Even with aching bones and sapping hunger, Anja was always prepared for a duel. In fact, situations such as these offered the most rewarding opportunities for combat of all. After all, if she could emerge victorious from a disadvantageous position, there would be no greater proof that she is more powerful and more deserving than her opponent. "What can I say? The saltwater seasoned you well, I couldn't guess at your expiration date if I wanted to."

When Jox apologized, Anja was somewhat stricken by his show of kindness and humility despite what had just occurred. "Rest assured that I don't make a habit of feasting on Astrians. This fatigue made me see things. I'm glad you made it out alive."

She followed his gaze, scanning their surroundings. When asked if she'd seen any of their companions, she shook her head. "I've only just woken up. Not to be the bearer of bad news, but there's good reason to believe that everyone else is dead. That fall was...we must have earned the good graces of some god, to be here now." She grimaced from the thought of Sigrid's death, which filled her with more pain than she'd felt from being shipwrecked. "No point in stalling any longer, is there? I'm starving. Perhaps you could lead the way and make use of that nose of yours?"

 

[Ramjammer]

The girl seemed stricken at the thought they might be the only survivors of the wreck. Her face took on a pained expression, and Jox was inclined to mirror her mood. He hadn't been particularly close to anyone, but such a massive loss so soon into their journey was enough to damper the spirits. The rat man shook his head vigorously. Not just to clear away the negative thoughts looming over him but also to answer the Lesni's query.

"My nose will be of no use for a while." The Astrian replied, his expression somewhat sheepish. He didn't want to tell Anja that he'd been attacked by a crab....again. The things seemed to have a vendetta against him, and Jox did not know why. Perhaps if he got the time during his journey, he might seek answers. But that would have to wait until they were in a less precarious situation.

Rubbing abashedly at his snout, Jox flicked his ears. "I cannot smell, but I can still hear just as well. Come then, let's find you something to eat. Shelter too; the sun shines here far more fiercely than it did in the mountains."

Jox turned and carefully began to pick his way across the wreckage strewn sands. His steps were uncertain, and he'd rather go curl up somewhere to take a nap, but stubbornness prevailed. Now and then, he'd pause to make sure that Anja didn't fall behind. Or, that is what he told himself. In part, the rat man was worried that his companion was a hallucination brought on by fatigue and worry. Should he take his eyes off the woman for too long, Jox feared that she would disappear altogether.

The going was slow, but they picked their way towards the treeline, and the Astrian could not help but sigh in relief as the cool shade covered him. Jox hummed and thoughtfully groomed his whiskers. "Things big and small move through these trees. I cannot say which are more dangerous than the others. So we should stick to hunting small things, eh?" He asked Anja, cocking his head in her direction.

Sacrosanctis

 

[Pilgrim59]

Sigrid Ravenchild
Woods, Unknown Island
FiveElemental shadowz1995 Ramjammer Sacrosanctis
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Hargrimm Stonewall
Campsite, Unknown Island
Worthlessplebian Zombehs Nessi Soviet Panda Arnalia ​

Sigrid, having reunited with her Oathsworns, was already donning her confidence with great spirit as if they were exactly where she wanted to be. It would not do the Tutans any good in the present to lose their attitude, while uncertainty remained their greatest foe. So long as they were breathing, the Gods were not done with them yet, thought the Raven, as she ran her fair fingers past Harper's scalp to clear his hair of sand, before messing it up as best as she can. "Would you have preferred it if the sea took me instead? Silly hexer." She smiled, patting his shoulder slightly, before directing her attention towards Hakan, whose hands were already at full capacity with the injured being dragged in. Sigrid took a step closer, reaching her palm around the back of Hakan's head to reel him closer. Her forehead matched his, as she hid her crimson optics behind fair eyelids with a delighted form of expression materializing upon her plump lips. For a moment there, she would relay her unspoken gladness by her soft action. "Aedayn intends to make me suffer. He's not done with me yet, it appears." She said softly, before releasing her prized healer from her affectionate touch. She then looked around, as Hakan became a beacon for their battered band to rally to. She wondered what would transpired if Hakan was not there to look after her followers. But in time, someone would have to take care of Hakan, and when that time comes, Sigrid could only hope that she is up for the task. For the time being, however, she understood now that she had responsibilities to her followers, and it was up to her to don an even brighter smile to keep their hearts steady. Even if their number is meek, Sigrid was grateful for their tenacity, for the world that they shared was less inclined to promote the sane.

She then eyed Anri, of whom was still standing despite having a blade buried within his abdomen. Hargrimm, upon spotting the wounded warrior, was quick to lend a shoulder to the Wolf. As Hakan began to perform a healing spell, Hargrimm would procure some dried kosberry and offered it to the Wolf. Its healing properties, a knowledge handed down by generations after generations, were no strangers to Tutan seafarers. While as bitter as elderroots, kosberry's pleasant aroma helps to ease one's mind and expedite the natural healing process. A frequent snack of seafaring warriors, it eventually became a sort of stocked prescription for those whose occupation often suffer physical wounds. For sailors and warriors, such detriments came with the job. As Hakan completed his treatment of the survivors, Hargrimm would follow suit with scouring their immediate vicinity for survivors, at the behest of the sage's remarks. When none other heeded his presence, the Stonewall would return with a nonchalant grunt, as he began ferrying one Oathsworn after another gradually towards Aglain, where the campfire was already being put together by the Astrian. He then gave Aglain a quick nod as acknowledgment for his diligent work. Having done so, he would then snatch a masterless axe from among the dead. Shooting his attentive glance at one of the shorter pines that situated itself quite suitable for the Tutan's reach, the Stonewall began chopping away.

"You've done us right once again, Hakan. Consider a respite with the others, Many are still unaccounted for-..." Before Sigrid could finish her words with Hakan, a familiar roar caught the attention of the Raven. Snapping her sight towards the general direction where the voice derived from, Sigrid's fingers ran past the hilt of her dagger by habit. "Remain." She commanded with a firm tone, as her expressions shifted towards that of a stern look. Leaping forward, the Raven made haste towards the eastern side of the tree line to pursue the voice. Circumventing the woods, she found herself deep within the far side of the clearing. When she finally brushed her way past the shrubs before her, Sigrid stumbled upon the scenic coast where two familiar souls resided before her. Her eyes widened, as she stood dumbfounded by the sight of a Lesni nibbling upon a huge black rat. She eyed them briefly in silence, unsure of how to make sense of the situation she found herself in, before they finally took into consideration of her arrival.

"I was beginning to think that I've already lost my ulfsarks. Aglain's getting the fire started." She said, eyeing the two of them for any sign of injury before continuing. Resting her hand by her hips, she nonchalantly gestured the two to follow her back to where the others were.

Meanwhile, the Jarl of Einsreach's lone venture was impeded by a sudden absence of sound, as the sparse creatures of the island turned quiet - almost as if the Gods had switched off the ambient nature. The silence became deafening as a cold breeze brushed past the lone hunter, while the void continues to consume the wood's natural stature. When the dead forest finally resumed its songs, a reticent vibration could be felt. Gradually but assuredly, it converged upon Eyvendur, pulsing in the air as it spiraled its way towards the Markai. Too slow for a thrown projectile, yet its presence is made known to the Jarl, as the buzzing sound finally broke away from its concealed method of movement to unveil its true identity. Floating past Eyvendur was a tiny insect that donned the redundant pair of apparatus that kept it afloat in the air. Its miniscule but vibrant wings emitted of trail of spectral light - the magical touch of the Ancient Gods' gorgeous design. As the insect buzzed its way past the man, a gentle breeze past him by, beckoning the man towards the clearing - where a lone creature resided. Donning neither the features of a deer nor an elk, but somewhere in between, with its spiraling horns fixed upon its apex. A docile animal, grazing upon the fresh grass, unaware of the Markai from afar.

 

[Huntertabbysandshark3]

Kara
Interaction: shadowz1995​

Kara was concious enough to see see the blind healer approach before she'd manage to make that assumption for thier lack of vision by the fact their stuff bumped into her tail and how he seemed more confused by its presence then anything else only to brush against it and practical jump and the suprise if she had the energy kara would most certainly have laughed at the situation she could ar least find some amusement in these mostly tragic turn of events. "Oh its perfectly fine if anything it was.. amusing.. no offence taken" she managed to croak out before listen to the healer explain her injuries without sight it was most certainly an impressive feat. "Well.. least I know what broken" she'd mumble understand that these kinda healing methods tended to be particularly painful she'd drink the potion handed to her and grimic even with it the crunching and cracking of bone left some sharp pains and an uncomfortable sound to listen to but it was worth it in the long run for once it was over kara was able to stand up properly being very carefully to not over excert lest she injure herself anymore then the storm already had.

"This went.. as poorly as hunting a bear unarmed and with another the same end result, I doubt we are anywhere near our intended course.. and judging by the bodies id say a good chunk of the crew is dead..." she'd say mostly to herself as the old habit died hard.

"Anyone else interested in see what animals their are in these forests to eat because I'm gonna go take a look myself" she added on extended to offer to whoever might listen before turning towards the forest.

 

[Zombehs]

Aglain Ervak​

Beach, Mystery Island
Pilgrim59
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Taking a moment to return the silent man's acknowledgement, Aglain leaned back down to stoke the embers into an actual fire with slow, steady breaths. As the tinder ignited and caught the piled kindling, he took a few moments to adjust and add to the stack before he stood to assist the Stonewall in preparing some actual firewood. Balkyss was hardly meant to hew wood though, so he had to scour the beach for another axe.

It didn't take long for him to return with one resting on his shoulder given the many lost from their crew. Yet in that time, Hargrimm had already felled the tree and begun to break it down into suitable chunks. Taking the opportunity to start chewing on a piece of smoked meat, Aglain picked up one of chunks before he hefted the axe and split it in half. Then those halves into further halves before the quartered pieces were pushed aside to make room for the next chunk. Between the two of them, the calmer waves lapping at the shore were punctuated with thud of their axes biting into the wood and the pine was broken down into firewood in short order.

Setting a few pieces around the fire to start drying out, Aglain fed the fire some more of the kindling before he buried the axe in the sand for now. He had already ransacked one of the bags that had washed ashore, but there were plenty more still strewn across the beach. His waterskin had survived the crash, but it had already been emptied and he could feel his thirst starting up again.

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