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Tales of Ayoth



Huggles fo all :3
Zashi found herself shaking her head as the man seemed to utterly disregard her accusation and all else at her generous offer, a smile on his face as he marveled at the coin on the table. She was disappointed - this was exactly the sort of man she pegged him for, especially the moment he offered to sell Ameerha to her. At least she still had the hope that he was a man of his word, if nothing else, and thus Ameerha would be free now. He seemed happy, if for reasons Zashi felt was wrong, and if this deal made Ameerha happy, everyone would be a winner here, she supposed. The thought of Ameerha being free of this man and perhaps travelling with her for a while, if the feline wished to, anyway, brought joy into the Lizard-like Median’s heart.

“My full name is more than likely something you cannot or will not wish to pronounce in its entirety, so you may call me Zashi.” Her eyes wandered back over to Ameerha the very next moment. “So, I assume you’ll let her go for that price, yes?” She asked, still not having gotten the confirmation of a deal. In all honesty, she could have cared less about learning his name in return.
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Jumin's Bae


Ice Heart sighed, looking over at the dirtied man, who had placed his hand on the wedged stick, and pulled on it. She winced, wondering whether or not that would be safe, but guessed it was since the man seemed to know what he was doing. The stick didn't budge at all, however, there were strange and ancient symbols that glowed on the surface. It spread into the wall and arranged itself into the shape of a doorway. She stared at it in wonder, her blue-grey eyes wide. Was... that magick? She took a deep breath. Of course it is. What else do you think that was?

The dirtied man was still gripping on to the stick, and gazed over at Celeste. His eyes turning grim, he stated, "If that is true, then swear me this, Ice Heart. You will not forget this act. This... favor."

Before she could respond, he muttered a few words under his breath. Wondering what that would cause, she peered at the wall, practically using her eyes to burn holes in the wall. That's when a hole in the shape that the symbols formed had been created. She thought she was the one who created the hole for a second but then realized that the man had earlier muttered something, so it would be most likely due to magic.

The pirate then slowly entered the new passage, and it immediately closed on her. Taking a deep breath, she straightened up her posture and looked over at the man. "I am a woman of my word..."

When they reached beyond the passage, Celeste noticed that there were many different stalls and small shops containing illegal (most of them) goods that one would have a hard time finding in public markets. As she concluded, judging by how the crowd itself seem to be a bit shady. Besides, the place itself seems to be a enclosed since there were no windows or doors and no light source other than the various lanterns and candles around the vicinity. She had noticed that there were similar symbols from the ones on the walls earlier here.

The female pirate sighed, and rubbed her neck. This is Thorus... she's inside. Not legally, but still inside. A sly, yet soft smile formed at the corner of the pirate's lips as she took in her surroundings. She looked over at a nearby candle. The bright orange flames flickered at her sight and burned harder, yet gracefully. She gazed over at the waves of human bodies, their faces familiar to the pirate. She had never seen some, but she had seen the majority. She slightly turned to the man, her face gentle. "I... believe this is where I thank you for your generosity." She gave him a slight, yet masculine bow.

As she turned to look back at the crowd, she noticed a strange man with... unusual clothing and a staff paced towards her with a smile aimed at her. "Greetings," the odd man said, studying her, "I assume your presence here isn't to see the sights, but to engage in questionable acts and dubious trades." Celeste raised an eyebrow, her head held high with arrogance and her eyes gazing down at him. "Why else would I be 'ere?" She asked him sharply, gripping her sheathed silver cutlass in paranoia.

"I offer a transaction." His hands clenched the oak with a tightening grip. The pirate raised an eyebrow with curiosity, intrigued by what his offer could be. "I'm a wizard," He stated while she stared at him, giving a slight nod. "One in search of spell tomes of dubious origin. There're non to be found here, and I'm willing to pay you very very handsomely for said tomes, and for passage across the sea."

She nodded, her gaze trailed from his feet, to his eyes, and his staff. The man being a wizard explained his odd choice in clothing, as Celeste guessed. Her eyes then glanced over at his pointy, elfish ears. She snorted, but immediately straightened up, not allowing that fact blind her opinion of the man. My, isn't everyone in this measly society unique? However, if he does one thing out of the line--

Celeste gave him a gentle, fake smile, but her hand didn't give in and instead grip the handle of the cutlass harder. "But of course. I believe I 'ad stolen some tomes on my journey venturing the seas. My ship is barely vacant, so no need to worry about room." She took a step closer, her eyes staring into the wizard's soul. Her smile diminished, leaving a stone cold expression on her face. "I don't need your riches. Money I have--" She turned her head slightly to her side, "--but I have some idea of how you can pay me." She gave him an amused smile. "A favor. Any favor I ask for, you do it for me. No matter what it is." She paused. "Well, kind wizard?"

If this strange, elfish wizard was wise, he'd decline her offer. Any favor she'd ask for? It's like signing a contract you did not read. A favor could be the most deadliest thing, if the other party agrees to anything. It could lead to murder--robbery--or simply protection. Every deal one makes with her and offers money and riches, she'd always decline and ask for a favor. Those favors had benefited her in a large amount. Whether it be murder or thievery, the authorities would always lead it to them, and Celeste would be out of harm. Besides, an Illieth wizard owing her a favor? Now that's rich.

She had learned this from her dear old captain many years ago.

Mood: Paranoid, Cheeky. || Interacting with: @Reinhardt @Archon || Mentioned: N/A



June thanked the guards in a bright voice and trotted through the gate, disappearing easily into the crowd, even despite her height.
‘Straaaaaaight ahead… to the weird roof…’ Muttering the instructions as she went, June dodged through the crowd, past merchants and mercenaries trying to sell their goods and services, past the people blocking the path trying to buy them. She heard snippets of haggling and conversation here and there all around her.

‘What? That’s practically thievery! I can’t let you—No—’

‘No, that’s far too expensive! I can’t afford that! Surely—’

‘Surely doing the work of Arce with—’

‘With no extra cost, I’ll add—oh, not your taste? Alright—’

Ah, there were fanatics in the crowd. Juniper sighed. Of course there would be. Though she always had a perfect excuse should one of them brand her studies heretic, she still felt perturbed by their blind faith. June hurried her pace.
When she reached the library, again some of her hope fizzled; as the guard had warned, with an impending celebration and the darkening sky, shops were closing—that’s why they were so hectic. The library seemed to be getting less business, and thus had opted to lock its doors even ahead of time. Nobody wanted to spend time in a library instead of preparing for whatever upcoming celebration, so they were justified enough. June sighed and decided she’d just have to try and deal with the feeling of distance and isolation until she got to where she wanted to be going.
So her next order of business would be an inn or something similar, someplace she could stay the night. Unfortunately, that would probably prove nigh-impossible with a celebration coming. Juniper silently scolded herself for not paying better attention to her timing.
She asked a few passerby and received fairly convoluted directions to a tavern and inn that might still have a room, I’m not sure. The one two streets down is a little shoddy, but might have something. Juniper was struggling to follow the instructions and the sky was darkening further, causing her almost to miss that she had wandered down a particularly shady street. Almost. The wares of these dark stalls, many were certainly not legal, and many more very difficult and unethical to procure.

Juniper was in danger. Surrounded by people who wouldn’t hesitate to tear her limb from limb and turn around right then and there to sell the feathers.

Fortunately, she was a good actor and did a decent job of hiding her discomfort; unless someone was continuously watching her, they wouldn’t notice a thing.
She glanced around as if she were vaguely intrigued by the repulsing products in the stalls, but unsatisfied by what she saw. All the while she moved on, at this point looking for an escape from this corner of the city before any inn to stay at.
Unfortunately, Juniper was too busy looking for a way to leave to watch her feet, and bumped right into someone, entirely tripping over them.

The event was made worse by the fact that there was another person standing near who was then also toppled into, and so the three of them ended up in a heap on the ground.
And as if there hadn’t been enough issues, as she had fallen, Juniper’s wings reflexively snapped out. By getting caught in her robes, they were no longer hidden.

‘Gah! So—sorry, I didn’t see—ugh,’
She froze halfway through trying to recover, then hurriedly tried to pull her robes back down over the ends of her wings.
‘Oh dear,’ June whispered. She looked up from where she was hands-and-knees on the ground, at the various shopkeeper’s faces.
‘Oh no,’ Her voice quivered.

@Reinhardt @Emmi @Archon
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Friendly Neighborhood Gem-Collector
Dri'izt met the pirate's stare with a flame of challenge, his deep eyes emotionless as he weighed the woman's words for several long moments.

"Done." He answered stone-faced, his lack of emotion betraying the euphoria within. Why, he always enjoyed exploiting the underworld, even among such a vile collection of miscreants and killers did some idiotic etiquette surface, some twisted notion of honour among thieves. It was much too easy. Dri'izt would ply his words and confess his assent to this 'favour', then carry on his quest with no intention of repaying it. He had far better things in mind than being beholden to some armed sailor, and the world was far too vast for him to even entertain the notion that she could be a potential threat.

However, before further words could be exchanged, a crazed woman seemed to collide with the Pirate, flesh crashing upon flesh like a cannonball searing into the a wooden hull. Both women toppled forward, taking the wizard by surprise, his lazy and off-balance stance offering no resistance against gravity's divine will. In a semi-state of shock, Dri'izt could naught but stare in bemusement as this rabid attacker struggled against majestic feathered escapees clutching her back, outstretched in protest.

"An Aendariin... in the flesh." The mage uttered in whimsical suspense, wide eyes drinking in the mesmerizing image of outstretched wings. Yet the elation was short lived, for the natural hatred so intricate to the human race was sure to boil-over at the sight of something so mythical. Anything of wondrous value, anything special in its nature, was deemed heretical and put to flame. Dri'izt was very much an expert on the matter.

His instinct was to simply depart the duo without care, the pirate could be found at the dock at a later date for passage and the aendariin was hardly his concern. And yet, the itching presence of curiosity gnawed it's way through his natural apathy, his thirst for the mystic the reigning champion of his emotions. The dark elf had little time for

"Curses!" The Illieth chastised quietly, "I pray your Gods grant you luck," He warned, noting the savage eyes of the surrounding cutthroats . "You surely need it." His words were tense yet betrayed nothing, every villain within a hundred feet grew bolder with each passing moment, fingers twitching towards sheathed steel. The illieth grimaced in distaste, his flight-or-fight desire becoming more conflicted than ever. His empathy was beyond damaged, a broken mechanic in a selfish host, and yet here he stood facing the ever-growing horde of violent greed, fittingly personified as the lowest dregs of human society. His fascination with the unique was a simple reason, but no small part of the Illieth was aching to unleash some bitterness on the purveyors of his persecution.

"Brilliant." He sighed, errant hand rubbing his eyes in annoyance. "Wasn't there a better way to make introduction?" Sarcasm dripping like venom, Dri'izt zoned in on the winged woman with a glare, his stance subtly preparing for combat.
@Emmi @Spazzycat101
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The bartender grabbed a small pouch from one of the many closets behind him, and carefully swept the pile of coins into it. Once all was contained by the pouch, he closed it by tying a small rope around its mouth.

"A'right...Zashi.", he shook his head with a smile yet again. "'Ya got a deal."

The bartender then, called out with a loud voice. "Ameerha! Come 'ere!"

It took a few moments before Ameerha exited through one of the doors on the left, and come rushing towards the counter. She would stop for a moment after seeing Zashi at the counter, but continue on her path onward. Once there, Ameerha asked the man. "Yes, boss?", her glance bouncing between the bartender and Zashi, clearly oblivious as to what is going on exactly.

The bartender, then, would drop the pouch of coins on top of the counter, and push it towards the feline-eared girl. "'Ere's 'yer pay.", he said with a light chuckle. "'Yer done now."

Ameerha took the pouch with hesitation, and asked once more. "I'm, uh...", she sounded nervous and confused. "I still have not finished unpacking the crates. Is it really fine if I go?"

The bartender huffed softly. "Don't worry 'bout that.", he spoke with a smile. "'Ye should go and enjoy the celebration tonight. Besides, 'yer friend 'ere's a bit convincing." He gestured towards Zashi with his left arm, which was on top of the bar counter.

Ameerha's eyes drifted to gaze at Zashi. Then back to the bartender. She bowed, and said. "Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!"

The bartender took the glass he cleaned, poured a fine, golden liquor into it, and went to the other side of the bar to start taking sips of it - occasionally glancing at the reptilian median and Ameerha from afar, and chuckling lightly.

Ameerha, on the other hand, quickly got closer to Zashi, and thanked her as well.




Jumin's Bae


"Done." He answered stone-faced. Celeste grinned. "Great." Of course, all she wanted to do was get rid of those tomes. They made her chests too heavy for her men to carry. Besides, no one in her crew needed the tomes. She didn't care for an elfish wizard--all she wanted were paints currently. However, there was a large chance that he was toying with her, lying about keeping his end of the bargain. After all, he is an Illieth. And dear lord, the ones she encountered on her journey weren't pleasant one bit. She knew where to keep her distance. She was human, after all. Powerless. Weak, compared to this oafish mage. At the end of the day, she still received what she wanted. Payment without money.

She opened her mouth to say something before she felt immense force take her by surprise, and her legs gave away, causing her to fall over. Her brown hat fell off and hit the ground, upside down. Impacting the hard ground as well, she ended up scraping her cheek against the rocks on the ground. Blood dripped down from her pale cheek.

Celeste's cheeks burned hot like lava, as she turned to face the assailant as she immediately pushed the girl off and shot back up, dusting off her clothing. "By God's wounds--!" She cursed. Noticing the angel-like, beautiful feathery wings. She stared at the girl for a long moment. Suddenly snapping back to reality, she cleared her throat, and picked up her brown hat, dusting it off from the dirt. She turned away from the crowd, her face as red as a poppy.

She silently placed it back on, feeling slightly embarrassed. That's when she noticed a couple of villains and shady folk slowly reach for their sheathed weapons. "Brilliant." The Illieth sighed, errant hand rubbing his eyes in annoyance. "Wasn't there a better way to make introduction?"

The lady-pirate snickered, but kept to herself. "Oi, little birdie, get up." She kicked at the winged woman, her eyes cold as ice. Her cheeks were still red, though. "Your bird nest isn't here." she said, her thick accent practically pouring.

She really didn't want this, all she wanted to do was go back and paint.

Mood: Annoyed, embarrassed. || Interacting With: @Archon @Spazzycat101 || Mentioned: N/A



June was almost oblivious to the words spoken at her. Instead, terror flooded her.

I don’t want to die here.

Adrenaline augmented it, turning it into a partially panicked resolve.

I won’t die here.

Though bright fear flickered in her eyes, Juniper flung both hands out to her sides and immediately a wall of wind began swirling around her and the other two near her. It was only visible by the dust on the ground it churned up. Though thin and almost silent, the wall would tear skin from flesh if someone attempted to force themselves through it. No breeze buffeted those within or without, but those who saw the dirt displaced and knew anything of magic would be reasonably wary.

She stumbled over her words when she spoke.

‘S—sorry. I—oh,’ When the other woman turned to face her, she recognized her from one of the signs. Ice Heart.

‘Well. Sorry about that, I…’ June took a breath, ‘Literally nothing I’ve ever done has ever gone so awry as this. I’m—heh—I’m sure someone with, with a name as badass as ‘Ice Heart’ has better places to—to be than stuck inside a wind wall…’ She paused for a long moment. ‘But it’s better than you being caught in the cluster that’s gonna happen when everyone comes at me with knives. If you, if you two wanna, I don’t know, make a run for it? Then I’ll let the wall down for a second. But I… I’m operating under the assumption that as soon as I do, everyone on this street is gonna…’ She didn’t finish. Her hands, still outstretched, were shaking from fear. Profanities hissed through her teeth. Juniper’s usually impeccable facade was cracking. Only in grave scenarios did it ever fail.

@Emmi @Archon @Reinhardt


Not even my final form

Manfred took time to marvel at the shriveled body. The black magic that was used here truly was the spawn of demons. After fixating on the corpse, hsi attention shifted to Hilma. He could feel her passion, and, having spent years being indoctrinated by a cult othinstantly respect anyone who was talking loudly and fervently, he was drawn in by her word. he watched the priestess and her boss go back and forth about the cause of this plague, and Arce's intent, until Hilma enlisted Manfred's support. Hunting monsters like the thing - or person - that created this mess was Manfred's job, and, as much as he appreciated her zeal, he could not help but to disagree.

"Actually, I believe this is a test from our eternal Goddess. I have come her to hunt almost a dozen heretics, to end their lives in the name of the Holy Word - to sacrifice them on an Altar of our Supreme Goddess" Manfred pontificated,

"But this is beyond their weak and vile power. Nay, the thing that did us was sent by our Goddess to test our faith"

He then turned to the father and smiled.

"But fear not, for I have slain worse, and I will take care of this problem for you. Arce may command me to die, but if so, I accept her command with love!" the inquisitorial knight proclaimed.

"Now, I must ask you father - where was this body found? And those like it? I will ensure information is properly extracted, and that my target is procured" he stated

"In the name of our eternal Goddess, I promise you I will send this beast back to the Aether!"


pretentious poet person
Thula, Alnwich

Uttering her words, it was hard not to notice the sparrow's frantic breathing. Combined with the glow of its eyes, it seemed high likely that there was magic at play here, of whatever kind. Indeed, the creature grew in tiredness still, even though it sat resting upon the broken wood acting it host, barely moving.

The bone Thula collected beside the road, thrown at the sparrow's feet, had about it a hue of its own for a moment, held very slightly above the ground by whatever force. For a moment, after which it fell upon the alley stone, back in its natural state. In the same moment, the smell of pine and oak and wood and grass filled the place, as the bird faded into a column of twigs and greenery, floating 'round and 'round like a hurricane. This had caught the druid slightly by surprise, but she stood her ground all the same, preparing for the anomaly's aftermath mentally.

Out of the small storm popped out a girl, landing onto the crates as she had before, although this time much less elegantly. A shapeshifter, as it turns out. Thula had heard tales before, told by the Archdruid or otherwise. They were connected to the wilds in a different way. Different, yet so similar that it almost appeared weird that none resided in their community.

When the dust had all but settled, and upon closer inspection, the girl's human form well resembled the one of the sparrow, with hair of brown and grey, skin gently swarthy and lungs acting as fierce as ever. Instead of feathers, the garb was made out of pelts, wolf and bear and the eyes glowed blue still.

"I feel... there is a lot to be discussed."


Huggles fo all :3
Zashi cocked her head to the side as the man shook his head smiling, fetching a pouch to put the coin in instead of sweeping it under the counter with the rest of his earnings as she expected him to. When Ameerha arrived, the dragoness smiled over at her, allowing her boss to handle this for now.

The confusion on her face only heightened as the man then handed the bag over to Ameerha, similar confusion apparent upon the visage of the feline herself.

The moment the bartender made it clear that Zashi had a hand in this, Zashi found herself blushing a little, smiling at Ameera as their eyes met. Whatever all of this was, she was clearly helping Ameerha out as indicated by the joy held in the catgirl’s reaction, and she decided that was what truly mattered among all of this confusion. Her spastic display of gratitude caused a warm, tight sensation to form in Zashi’s chest that she’d never felt the likes of thus far. She didn’t quite understand it, though it was certainly pleasant.

However, it occurred to her just as she turned to her new cat-girl companion and thought to bid her to get going that, whatever his true intentions, the man had perhaps not as much greed in his heart as she thought. Humans were odd sorts, in her mind, and this only seemed to further prove that to the Lizard-like median.

“Ah, erm…. Thank you from me as well, on behalf of Ameerha. I… apologize for misjudging you, sir.” Though if deceptive as she partly suspected, he did prove far more generous than she was expecting. Was he simply having a laugh, or was he intending to be genuinely kind in his own way this entire time? Was Ameerha ever truly employed by him? Perhaps a more detailed account from Ameerha on her experience here would shed some light on things, but for now it seemed time to get her out of there, and to help her new feline companion enjoy her night as best she can. “You are most welcome, Ameerha.”

“Come, Ameerha,” Zashi said, her tone warm. “Let us celebrate this time of year… and our new bond.” The more lizard-like woman’s eyes locked with Ameera’s as she smiled, showing as little of her mouthful of sharp canines as possible to ensure the expression was pleasant, rather than menacing. A catlike fellow Median such as Ameerha would likely understand better than the humans who had seemed frightened by her smile before, though it was force of habit. Leading the excitable girl out of the bar, she said, where would you like to go? I remember a place among the square that is usually bustling with people and music this time of night. I have been here during the festivities a few years in a row now.”

She smiled over at Ameerha. Perhaps it was best not to tell the feline, for now at least, that the coin she was holding was once hers. She seemed to be happy, after all, and Zashi herself had never seen a true need for material goods such as coin and the things it can buy; most seemed to feel it was necessary to have money to survive, but they simply had never been taught to live off the abundant bounty of the land. When they seemed to be in a more comfortable place, enjoying the festivities, perhaps then would be a good time to ask of the situation they had just left behind. Though, if Ameerha herself wished to address it, that would certainly be a comfort of its own.
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Recovering Muffin Addict
The rain poured down relentlessly, making it difficult to hear the sounds of a man sneaking up behind Reilara. She hadn’t realized it until he had place a hand on her shoulder. While she show no signs of it, she was certainly startled. She turned to face the man. When the man caught a glimpse of her face, he muttered only a few words. It was barely audible under the crash of the rain, but Reilara understood he meant for her to follow him. He led her down a dark, muddy alley. They stopped at a small cellar door. The man knocked on the door with a particular patterned then left Reilara in the alley. After about a minute, sounds came from the cellar and the door cracked open slightly. “Is it clear?” a man’s voice asked through the rain.

Reilara glanced around the alley. No one else was in it with her so she confirmed it was in fact clear. The man then replied with a hurried tone, “Then come in quickly, before you are seen.” Reilara bent down to grab the door. It had no outside handles, so if the man below wasn’t holding the door open it would have been impossible to open it within normal means. She struggled to lift the door, as it was much heavier than it looked. The man below assisted her and she slid into the cellar. The door slammed shut behind her. She stepped down a few steps before turning around to face the man. As she did that, the man cranked the locking mechanism back into place.

Cerwyn Lermantes, thought Reilara staring at the burned, disfigured face of the man before her. Uglier than I expected. A lot uglier. She scanned the room. It was well lit, several candles were lit mounted on the walls. The cellar was very small, having only a desk with a chair, a mattress on the ground, and a table with a mess of documents and things of that sort. The air smelled awful with a mix or tobacco, alcohol, and human waste. There was a bucket in the corner by itself, probably the waste bucket. This is why I follow the law. Break it and you might end up like this or worse.

“When they told me someone was looking for Mors Vermiculus, I wasn’t expecting a innocent looking girl like yourself. What on earth could you possibly want with the crimson death?” The man spoke with such a harsh tone Reilara thought she had offended him somehow. Not that it mattered to her whether or not she had offended this low life, but it made her concerned as to how much information would she get out of this guy. The fact that he referred to her grandfather as Mors Vermiculus made her doubtful it was going to be her grandfather. Having no other leads, she didn’t really have an option. Either this or going back to the flower shop.

In a cheerfully innocent voice Reilara said, “Why he is my grandfather of course!” The man took a step back and gasped slightly. His hand went down to his belt where a large dagger rested in its sheath.

“A- are you here to k- kill me?” stammered Cerwyn. This caught Reilara off guard. Whoever this Mors person is certainly couldn’t be her grandfather, but after two years of getting nowhere it was worth the try.

“Why would I do a thing like that? I’m just looking for my grandfather!” Reilara laughed. The man certainly wasn’t going to relax now. He was white as a ghost and the deceptively innocent laugh of the granddaughter of a serial killer was unnerving.

“I have no idea wh-where he is. I know he was somewhere in the Theocracy of Obil, but that was years ago. I know a guy by the name of Arthur Polinski. He’s a Sanguini like you and he is still connected with Mors. Lives in some portside city in Thorus, I forget the name.” The man when over to a desk and rifled through some diagrams and maps. Once he found what he was looking for he laid it on top. “Come, I’ll show you”

Reilara look at the map, but not knowing how to read it made it hard to understand. She wasn’t good at reading in the first place, only having a rudimentary understanding of the written word. “Where exactly are we on this map?” She asked, feeling a little stupid.

“This is a map of Thorus, not Etrea. Can you not read or something?” The man said in disbelief. Reilara rubbed the back of her neck and shrugged. He relaxed a little, Reilara wasn’t really all that threatening now that he thought about it. “Well alright then, you take take this map. Might want to mark this point so you don’t lose it. I have a quill and ink on the desk on the wall.” Cerwyn pointed, but Reilara didn’t look.

“Not very well, but it’s fine.” Reilara said, “I can remember it. Thank you. Is that all you know?”

”Fraid so. Been out of the loop since I went on the run. If you are looking to leave, use the ladder over there. If you need help lifting the hatch, just ask.”

Reilara rolled up the map and tied it to her belt underneath her cloak. “Is it has heavy as the other door?” The man nodded in reply. “Well then you might as well open it for me.”

“I thought Sanguini were strong,” He chuckled, waddling over to the ladder. It had the same crank mechanic as the other door so it took a moment to open.

“Yeah, I just don’t really exercise. I’m a florist by trade,” Reilara said sheepishly.

“A florist? Like with flowers? Huh…” Cerwyn climbed down the ladder scratching his head. “Well it’s open for ye. Good luck with your search”

Reilara waved at the fugitive, then climbed the ladder. Cerwyn closed the door once she was out of the way. She was just thankful to be out of the awful stench. That man was relatively helpful and all, but she couldn’t see how he was okay with living like that. It was depressing and disgusting. He was probably bored down there, not being able to talk to anyone until meals.


About a month later, Reilara arrived at her destination. She had spent a lot of time in Thorus trying to find the right city, but now she had confirmation that this place was where she’d find Arthur Polinski. She was travelling with another Sanguini who was delivering a couple boxes of something heavy and metal sounding. Reilara didn’t need to know and as far as she was concerned it was better that way. When she left the flower shop, she wasn’t expecting to go anywhere near such types of people doing things that weren’t exactly legal. While she saw nothing morally wrong with it, she still wasn’t about to be caught and imprisoned.

Reilara sat in the back of the covered wagons with the boxes when the cart came to a jarring stop. She poked her head out the front, wondering if this was the place. The man in front rose the canvas to say, “He’ll be here eventually. Go inside the bar, I’ll meet you in there. I suggest drinking some alcohol. Polinski isn’t very bearable sober.”

Reilara wasn’t much for drinking and honestly didn’t care. This Polinski guy couldn’t possibly be as bad a the guy that lead her to Cerwyn. The man had to be the scummiest piece of garbage on the planet. So she slid down the front of the cart and wondered into the bar. She found an empty chair next to the entrance and waited for her escort to join her.
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Althea Lowell

Copper coins made a dull clink as Althea languidly dropped them into her pouch. She had been slightly more fortunate than most with a good third of her wares sold or traded away, but nothing could cure the humdrum of midday. Less pedestrians meant less money to make, true, but it was more accurate in her case to say that it meant less people to talk with. The dwindling of interactions also meant the fewer interesting things she’d come across, unfortunately.

As if answering her woes, Althea felt a light tug on her coat. “Lady, lady,” the pull called, and the brunette met those teary eyes in response. It was a little girl—perhaps even half of Althea’s own diminutive size—with clothes and hair a total mess. Immediately filled with sympathy at the lost girl’s words, she crouched and pet the child’s cheek reassuringly while giving a promise to help.

“Don’t worry, I’ll come with you. Just wait a few seconds, alright?” she said soothingly.

Next, she walked up to the stall next to hers and slipped a few coins into the tender’s hands. “Sir, could you watch my cart and wares while I step away for a moment, please? I’ll give double this when I come back.”

Looking at the coins in his hand, the man nodded slowly. However, he quickly stopped the brunette before she turned away. “Little Miss, are you sure there’s nothing suspicious about that wee child over there?”

Althea raised her brow at his cautious whispering. It was rare for merchants to show concern for strangers like this. Nonetheless, she laughed in response, “There’s little to gain from making me a target. That said, if she really happens to be a lost child, I’d feel terrible to ignore her.”

Without further ado, the brunette walked back to the child and offered her hand to lead the way.

“How did you get lost? Did you come here with your mother or father?” she asked, attempting to form a better picture of who exactly she was trying to find.
Upon the revelation of the Aendariin, several folks began to sharpen their blades, some started to draw out their weighted nets from their cases, and pretty much everyone's attention was placed onto not only Juniper, but also the two that she was now grouped with. The air began to be tense, as if chaos could break out any given moment - until a loud, resonating clap was sounded from a corner of the room.

There, a man leaned against the wall. He sighed, and walked towards the three - as many eyes followed him. He knelt down towards the Aendariin, lending her a hand and helping her up. Once that was done, he gazed at the three. Then, he took a quick glance at the surroundings - and as expected, nearly everyone was just waiting for the go sign. For the opportunity to snag some quick cash with this poor winged female. He raised a finger, and made it glow, then he touched his neck.

He, took a step back, and turned to the rest of the people, his finger his touching the skin of his neck. And with a loud, voice that resonated to every corner of the place, he spoke. "There will be no bloodshed here. You know my rules, abide by them.", he raised his other hand, and closed it into a fist, which then glowed in a pulsating red glow. "Unless you wish to pay the price for violating my rules. And I am quite certain here that no single one of you can pay that."

A few grunts, and murmurs were heard as everyone began to discard and hide their weapons and equipment back to their respective places. A fair amount even turned their gaze away from the three. Once this was done, the glows on the man's hands and fingers disappeared. He turned back to the three, and spoke to them.

"Now, the three of you, leave.", he snapped his finger, and a large, door-like opening emerged from the walls, just straight ahead from their current location. "I do not want to see any of you here again." He left afterwards without a word.

Should any of them stay any longer, they will be shoved towards the exit by large, burly panther-Medians. The opening would lead them towards an empty alley, which is connected to one of the many streets leading to the main street.

Unfortunately, as they would exit the establishment, they unintentionally would bump onto a small group of people, which would include a man of rather refined look, and crimson eyes. This will cause the other group's cart to fall down and crash, their wares and various items scattered on the ground. Some will go and gather such with haste, and a few will begin to shout at the three.

"Watch where you're going damn it!", one would say.

@Emmi @Spazzycat101 @Archon @HumansArentReal

While it was not the answer Hilma wanted to hear, it was relieving enough that Manfred opted to aid them.

Father Omos smiled gently at Manfred words. He took short look at the corpse behind them, and returned his gaze to Manfred. "We do not find bodies.", he said. "They come to as alive, but weak, sickly, and sometimes wounded. We take care of them, but they often end up bedridden, and that's when they begin their painful journey towards this...end."

The priest sighed. "I am afraid that is all I can give you, Manfred." Another aid enters the room, and whispers to the priest's ear. He sighs, and stands up. "My deepest apologies, but I am needed yet again.", he turns his gaze towards Hilma. "Hilma, keep Manfred company. I shall return quickly, and hopefully with something more substantial to this matter."

Father Omos leaves the room with the aid, and heads further into the establishment.

Hilma moves towards the room's exit.

"Sir Manfred.", she says. "Please follow me."

Hilma would lead him outside of the establishment, and into a not-so-crowded alley near it. She, then would lean in closer to him, almost chest to chest.

"I might be able to help you in this resolving this...test.", she'd say. "However, I must come with you. I need to see this through. My heart and soul cannot be calmed until I witness the end of suffering of these poor folks."

Should Manfred agree, she would then tell him of three plans of action that he can choose upon:
  • To investigate an area in the slums, not far from the current location - rumor has it that there are dark forces playing in that part of the slums, which is causing this surge of sickness. Though rumors in this part of the city tend to be just that, rumors.
  • To talk to someone called "The Horn-bat" - who is said to know everything that happens in Alnwich. While technically not a criminal, that person has quite a reputation with the local authorities. Finding them would be hard, arranging an audience with them would prove to be even more difficult.
  • To investigate the first person to ever experience such suffering - a man who goes by the name Bargef. Unfortunately, the man has passed away, but tracking down his history may prove to be fruitful.


Seeing that the woman before her was unfazed by her transformation, she tilted her head like a confused pup. And after taking a second look, she had come to realize that this woman was like her, attuned to nature, but not in the same way that she was. She tried to stand, but her legs were weak, unable to support her body weight, however light she may be. As she did this, a lengthy wound running down her thigh to her ankle was revealed - it was still bloody, and appeared to be fresh.

The girl took a quick glance at it, then back to the woman. Still catching her breath, she spoke up.

"I...will speak later.", she said with a soft grunt. "My wounds need...tending first."

"And...and food too.", she added, as she pointed towards a nearby eatery she saw at the corner of her eye.

It's not too far from the current location, about a few minutes walk only after exiting this dark alley. There are tables set up near the edge of the street, and the place is somewhat empty, with the exception of a few local patrons and those who work in the establishment.


Before they left the bar, Ameerha would wave goodbye at the bartender, and the man would nod with a smile. Once outside, the feline-Median would turn her attention back towards her companion - a lot of words and questions readied at the tip of her tongue. But before she is able to speak up, Zashi had already invited her for a spot to head towards.

"Then let's go there!", she replied with a smile, her voice resonating with excitement - as is expected from her.

On their way to the said place, Ameerha would spend a few coins from the pouch she had just acquired, buying various things:
  • Two canteens filled with treated berry juice, one of which she would give to Zashi.
  • An oval shaped bread, filled with yellow-ish cream, which she would take small bites as they walked.
  • A small bouquet of assorted flowers, which she'll hand out piece by piece to random folks and children they'd encounter.
  • And two green trinkets who look like tiny turtle shells.
Once at the destination, Ameerha would take a quick glance of the area, and sit down.


The bar Reilara entered, like the rest, did not quite have enough people. Although, it was as rowdy as one would expect. There's a lingering noise from the small group on the tables to the right, and a bunch of unnecessary ruckus on the left - which the bar staff was dealing with at the moment. It took about a few minutes or so before a man dragged a chair and sat in front of her.

He appeared quite rugged. His clothes was ruffled in many ways, his hair was unkempt, and his breath carried the stench of cigar and alcohol. He took a swig at a large wooden mug he got, and dropped it on the table with a thud. He leaned forward, his chest pressing onto the table, and gazed at Reilara, with one of his eyes closed. After a few seconds, he leaned back to his chair and gave off a loud burp.

"Well...hic...you look pretty fine, girl.", he said. "Wha-what-hic-what're you doin' in this lousy place?"

"You looking for some-hic-somebody? You lookin' for me?", he pointed towards himself. "Must be the charm. hic Don't worry, I'll treat ya well."

He extended his arm, stained by drops of his drink and some dirt, towards Reilara - and waited for her to shake it.

"The name's Ar-hic-Arthur. Arthur Polinski."


The child grabs Althea's hand with hesitation, and begins to wipe her tears, only to smudge more dirt stains on her face. She'd look up at her, and after a short moment of silence, she'd finally speak up.

"I was with my dad. We were gonna buy mom a present for tonight.", she said. "B-but there were lots of people and I got lost."

It would appear that the child had been going around looking for her father for quite a while now, and approaching Althea was her last resort - seeing that the girl was the most approachable-looking person in the child's vicinity. Looking for clues would be quite difficult with the current time, though reporting this incident and leaving the child with the guards would seem quite lacking as a solution as well.

It might be the work of the divine, or simply a stroke of luck - but a clue would be appear within Althea's sight.

On the girl was a necklace, with a red gem on the end of it. It might not be much of a help, but this could aid in figuring out the child's origin, perhaps even lead to her parent's whereabouts.


The skies are darkening, and most of the shops are getting ready for the festivities. People have began to leave their homes and gather in the streets - some heading into the square, some going into various taverns and bars. And preparations for the festivities are coming to a close. Most of the guards have gathered to the gates and the main street, a few remain to continue their patrol and guard their respective posts.

Soon enough, the sun will set and the celebration shall begin.

A timeskip will occur soon. Try to post as much as you can and resolve your current intro/side-plots.



Slowly she was erasing her fear and replacing it again with her facade, a face of resolve. When suddenly her wind stopped, it faltered again, though only for a moment. She knelt down quickly, with one hand on the hidden handle of a dagger on her belt, ready to spring forward at the first sign of violence.

When the man who had dispelled her magic made his short announcement, Juniper was genuinely surprised, though now it did not show. She tentatively accepted his help to stand.

‘Thank you very much. Her tone sounded truly appreciative. With no other words, June eagerly followed his command of getting the hell out of there. She was hardly paying attention to the other two who were also forced to follow until they were away from the cutthroat vendors.

‘I suppose either of you will want compensation for an inconvenience like that,’ Juniper laughed. ‘Really am sorry. Uh…’ in her head she quickly took stock of how much money she had, how many rations. And regardless of finances, she was seriously starting to consider just camping outside the city with her bedroll.

‘Do you think… thirty gold is worth the bother?’ Thirty gold for both of them was a little more than half of what she had, but she wasn’t unhappy to part with it if it meant no trouble with a pirate. Or a… wizard? Warlock? Probably a warlock. The elf looked like he was from some kind of cult. Juniper started to retrieve a small pouch from her bag. But before she even unfastened one of the straps, she felt something knock her over. Fortunately her wings remained hidden.

‘Gaah!’ Juniper was much less terrified this time, and a little more aggravated. ‘I’ll be lucky if I get through the day with a broken bone!’ Once she stood up and brushed herself off, she offered a hand to help Ice Heart up. Someone shouted at them to ‘watch where you’re going, damn it!’

‘Hey,’ June rebuked, ‘That was not my fault! I’m not the one steering a cart into passerby!’

@Emmi @Archon @HumansArentReal
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Recovering Muffin Addict
Well that was easy, thought Reilara. Either he was watching her and the other Sanguini arrive and recognized the man or he was just that kind of self-confident and flirty drunk. Without hesitation, she took the man’s hand. In her head, she was disgusted by the cleanliness of the drunk. Having been on the road for so long without bathing, she wasn’t much better. She wasn’t visibly dirty, though. She smiled sweetly, again try to put on a overly friendly face. She was aware she was oftentimes over compensating, but as long as she kept up the act there would be no evidence she was a completely different person.

“Actually yes, I am looking for you. I’m looking for my grandfather. You might know him by Mors Vermiculus. Cerywn Lermantes told me you were still connected with him,” Reilara said promptly, before releasing the drunk sanguini’s hand. She rubbed her hand on her back to purify it, but tried to be subtle so as to not disrespect him.

The other sanguini, her escort, finally stepped in. Upon the sight of Arthur, the escort groaned. “You really must be joking. It is not even dark out and you are already plastered! Bloody drunk, you knew I was coming in with the new shipment today. You could have at least waited until after that.” He said, rubbing his temples.
"Mors Vermiculus.", Arthur chuckled softly. "Now that is a name I have not heard in years."

He took the mug, drank all its contents, and slammed it once more onto the table. After finishing his drink, his crimson eyes would dimly glimmer for a quick second, and he would appear to be drunk no more. His eyes, then, turned towards the other Sanguinus, and from his pocket, he drew a heavy pouch and threw it towards him.

"There's the payment.", he said. "Now leave."

Once the said person would vacate the area and leave the two alone, Arthur would lean in a bit closer.

"If you truly are his 'granddaughter', and he is truly your 'grandfather', then you would have tracked him down already.", he said. "You don't need me. Besides, I've severed my connection with him, and whoever he is still linked to, several years ago."



Friendly Neighborhood Gem-Collector
"Fine folks," Driizt mocked with a stoic smirk, paying little heed to the wind wall now threatening the frenzied crowd. Magic was his element, and all knowledge of the winged-folk bore tales of a natural affinity with the winds of thew world, though he himself had little intention of using such chaotic forces in the densely packed valleys of the underworld. Yet fate conspired, and through some mystical form of divine intervention, the Aendariin's very own miracle appeared in the regal form of a clearly irritated mage, forcing his way through the crowd with determinant authority, his deep wise eyes scowling with restrained annoyance at the trio. Under normal circumstances, the elf might've been insulted, given his clear innocence at the entire commotion, though he was more than happy to leave this useless shell of city, his time here was at an end and served to further no additional purpose. He'd struck a bargain with the Pirate, and it seems the Gods intended to keep them together, for the time being at least.

Stepping through the portal-esque contraption-of-a-door with an aura of boredom, the warlock quickly fixed his gaze on the bumbling purveyor of problems. A singing stare of both annoyance and curiosity, rival emotions battling for control of his tongue; a conflict swiftly ended at the mention of compensation. "Hm, 30 will be fine... After all, I am expelled from the black markets thanks to your anti - " His dissatisfaction was immediately halted by the forlorn collision of a nearby wagon, the wooden machination sharply colliding with the group. Fortunately for him - unfortunately for the women - the wagon was halted from the larger warlock by the duo, and yet being absent the scene offered him no humorous perspective. Arms outstretched, he planted his staff onto the hard earth and fixed the caravan with an exasperated glare.

"Humans..." He whispered under his voice, a forlorn glance to the distant horizon, wonderment to what came next. And then a glance to the pirate and aendariin. Such an unlikely collective. Driizt was a far cry a spiritual monk or ancient seer, but nonetheless he felt a strange kinship the duo who'd been thrust upon him. Then again, it was just as likely his mind was struggling to make sense of the insanity of the last five minutes, and this was also more social interaction than he'd had in years.
@Emmi @Spazzycat101
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Interdimensional Storyteller
Kasimir Wilhelm Valentin
Valentin didn't believe in fickle things such as fate, he would recount it was coincidence and by coincidence, he considered the logical explanation that fate was nothing but probabilities. This led into unneeded but vehement hate for fortune tellers, not that anyone needed to know but rather come to terms with. His day had started out awful, much like every other and equally, he had already condemned himself to an awful evening by the sheer form of a bad mood. If you think there is something worse than awakening in a seedy brothel with no money, no memory of the previous night, and a mistress with the physical form of a brute who threw you out on the street, you may be wrong. For a fleeting moment, he had praised whatever Gods he'd known that by some miracle he hadn't caught some debilitating and embarrassing illness. Then just to make sure, he stopped by a local apothecary and was assured, which immediately made him disregard his prayers in favour of self-assured rationality. The best thing to have come out of the situation was he didn't carry much money on him when he entered the less ... welcoming parts of town and thus, there was less to steal and his work wasn't put at risk.

By the time he'd managed to wander back to his inn and scrub every inch of his skin until he was raw but sufficiently washing off the sense of filth that accompanied his misadventure, Kasimir dressed in a decent, well-tailored set of clothing that included a jacket and boots. His hair, a wild mane of black that was oft commented upon, had been tethered back for comfort. Today would be the beginning of the festivities, he had little clue as to what it was about and how long it lasted, all he knew was something along the lines of 'good for business'. Yet the thought of business made him want to pluck his own eyes out and headbutt an exposed, rusty nail. If anything at this point in his existence, he was sick of the continual repetition that had slowly consumed his life; a life that he was reminded was too long for his own good. Perhaps he would have to leave someday, forget his familial business which in itself, was insulting to work for in such a low position. He wasn't a lost teenager anymore, but rather a grown man. Albeit, a grown man trapped in the vicious cycle of addiction by his own making. Thus, Kasimir never did too much about it but complain and continually get worse. His coping mechanism remarked by some as destructive, insane, and undoubtedly mind-numbingly stupid to those he'd almost call his friends. If he had any. Valentin was more comfortable with acquaintances and colleagues, friends had commitment and emotional baggage written all over it. He could barely trust himself, let alone some stranger.

The market that day had been buzzed with the thought of the evening celebration, good for business, whilst Kasimir half-heartedly promoted shipments to his fellow merchants. There were a few takes, paperwork rolled and stored in his satchel. Upon the interaction with a shiftier group, however, Valentin -- much alike everyone in the vicinity -- would be drawn to the Aendariin, one who appeared in broad daylight much to her understandable panic. Their unlikely saviour, a man who commanded power and was clearly listened to. A city official perhaps? Kasimir could only guess. Then, in an act of fortune, the Aendariin and those who also accompanied her, knocked into the wagon of his fellow merchants. Their stock rolling on the floor as they were quick to pick it up and make a scene by raising their voices. Kasimir, a notably tall figure was visibly in thought before sweeping one of the bottles the merchants had possessed and eyed it -- to their dismay perhaps as he clicked his tongue in vague disappointment,

"Here I thought they'd made this quite illegal, a protected rarity. Wouldn't you say?" His gaze rose from the sellers to linger on the group in front of them again, attention instead drawn to the robed man. Some sort of mage, magic-user, who gave a confident pose and in a rather turnaround of first impressions -- a quiet comment. It didn't seem like it was a bump and pass off, especially with the unexpected woman by their side. "Well," Kasimir turned about, under scrutiny from the merchants with a disguised cough. "I suppose I may be off now, under no relation but I think these ... wonderful strangers are walking my way. Might want to take that wagon to someone who knows what they're doing. Enjoy the festivities, boys." Valentin was quick to wiggle out of a situation where he wanted no involvement. Ironic, knowing his affiliations with certain trades, but no less was he in a mood to get jailed. Or perhaps given a beating by those who didn't appreciate his blatant description of their goods when in a precarious situation.

Mentioned: N/A
Interactions: @Reinhardt @Emmi @Archon @Spazzycat101


Recovering Muffin Addict
The sanguini transporter caught the pouch, checked it’s contents, closed it and left without another word. He seemed very annoyed. Reilara watched him as he left, noticing he didn’t return to his cart. She didn’t really care, but she wasn’t expecting him to abandon his horse and everything. Then again, she didn’t exactly know what deal they had settled.

Reilara was almost startled when Arthur spoke again, realizing she had zoned out. If I was his granddaughter? She thought. What is he implying? Reilara stood up and placed her hands flat on the table. Her uncombed hair slid down over her eyes prompting her to push it back into position.

“Do you at least remember the last time you saw him or who was with him last? A name, place, anything?” Reilara pleaded trying to suppress her desperation. Having spent two years and traveled so far only to find yet another dead end was more or less heart breaking. Her search seems endless and she was worried it would be futile. She had no way of knowing if her grandfather was even still alive, not even knowing his first name. She didn’t know how much longer she could keep searching. The conditions are awful and stress was difficult to handle. She was even considering using more aggressive and illegal methods of getting information.


Huggles fo all :3
Zashi found herself smiling at Ameerha as she waved so innocently at the man, before turning to him and smiling in tandem with Ameerha back at him. As strange as he was, it was clear from this interaction that her first impression had been rather baseless.

The cat girl’s smiling, cheerful response to her suggestion warmed Zashi’s heart, which she felt was rather odd just like the moment before when it had occurred, as she was inherently cold-blooded. What was this sensation? She felt it was important but couldn’t put her finger on it. Deciding to refocus on helping the catgirl to enjoy the festivities for the moment, especially since the idea maintained that pleasant warmth in her chest, whatever it was, she nodded with a grin back at her, allowing herself to really smile this time, teeth and all, gradually feeling more relaxed and able to be by herself. Zashi carefully led the more catlike of the median pair through the growing crowd as the sun set and the festivities began.

‘It looks like we’ll be among the first to peruse the stalls,” she said, gesturing over to a few that were just now being opened, a few stall owners calling out their wares as others flipped signs to open. Might as well let the girl let loose and spend a bit of her newly acquired coin, she thought. She found herself grinning as the catgirl almost pounced at the opportunity, pun intended.

Just seeing Ameerha’s delight as she bought and looked on at all the colorful and interesting knicknacks, trinkets and the like for sale, as well as the multitude of wonderful-smelling and scrumptious-looking food for sale, Zashi felt that warm sensation from earlier grow. If Ameerha was able to stick around with her for a while as the Median hoped she could, spoiling her like this was liable to become a habit.

Zashi’s eyes widened as her gift of coin, even though Ameerha was unaware it was from her rather than the peculiar barkeep at the Sleepy Rhino, was reciprocated in a way with a canteen of juice. Thanking her with a kind smile and a nod of gratitude, she began to take sips of it every now and then, and smiled a bit more at the taste. She recognized the distinct flavor of the berries this juice was made of, and always found herself picking a few for the road when she found ripened specimens growing wildly.

The lizard-like Median found it intriguing to see the myriad trinkets that her companion bought, and found herself smiling warmly as Ameerha began giving away the flowers from her bouquet to passerby. She seemed such a kind and innocent soul. it warmed her heart to see another Median so full of kindness and ready to give in a city that likely didn’t treat her all too kindly, knowing the ways Medians were often mistrusted by the other races.

After they’d settled into their destination, Zashi looked to Ameerha to see how she was taking the place in. This area always had several bards playing in the vicinity, and stalls set up with various games one could win small prizes playing. She had a feline her feline companion would love to take in what the area had to offer and absorb the festive, happy vibes thrumming throughout.

Once Ameerha had explored for a bit, Zashi took the first opportunity to tell her that she wished to sit and rest for a bit, enjoy the nearby music. Sitting upon a bench, she lightly pat the spot on the cozy wooden seat beside her for Ameerha to sit. After she’d settled down a little, the more lizardlike of the two thought it time to clear up a few things, get to know the catgirl better. Starting with the most pressing question on her mind seemed rather apt.Turning and regarding her with a curious look, she thought about how to word her pressing inquiry before she spoke softly. Thankfully, she doubted a feline would have trouble hearing her even with the music playing, given the large, cone-like ears Ameerha’s kind sported.

“I’ve been wondering, Ameerha; what brought you to working at that quaint little tavern?”


Not even my final form


Manfred put his hand on the hilt of the dagger that was under his green cloak, just to make sure that it was still there. Whatever thing was doing this was doing it to people who were stil lalive... perhaps some victims would still remember their affliction before they died. He listened to Hilma and nodded as she spoke.

"Yes, sister, if you give yourself to Arce and know she may command you to die, then your spirit is righteous" he pontificated.

"But you have to change into something that own't let people recognize you" he advised.

It was thirty minutes before they ventured out of the temple and into the slums. Manfred and Hilma spent far too much time blessing the sick and the wounded in the temple, before Manfred sacrificed a vial of his blood to bless the temple and gave it to father Omos. Still licking the wound, Manfred stepped back on to the cobblestone road, and power walked towards the slums.

"Perhaps our options aren't mutually exclusive" he said to Hilma

"I always prefer the most direct and dangerous route - but maybe we can find this criminal you mention while we're there" he suggested. It was probably becoming evident to his new partner that Manfred did not have the best mind for covert missions. He strutted through the alleys as if he were the king of the city, and made aggressive eye contact with every young male that passed by, as if to assert his dominance over an opponent in a Zal-Kabar tournament. The holy knight was far more cut out for the hack and slash of battles, or of domestic inquisitorial missions in Obil, but he and his seniors were both convinced that, with enough faith and conviction, he would prevail in spite of his lack of tact. Predictably, they got nowhere. Manfred wandered through the slums while the sun started to set, with Hilma following in tow. There were many shanties, diseased people, kids without limbs, beggars, and street thugs, but no dark magic.

Eventually, Manfred got frustrated.

"Did you know Bargef?" he asked to the nearest man, who ignored him

"Bargef?" he asked an elderly woman dressed in rags.
While the exchange between the two parties were ongoing, one of the patrolling guards happen to pass by and take a quick glance at the situation. He stands for a short while, and observes, until he notices one of the merchants grabbing up a jar that contained some substance which was deemed illegal by the city's laws. With this, he immediately exclaims.

"Stop right there!", he starts to run towards the scene.

A number of the merchants notice this, and immediately discard whatever they were holding, and ran away. Some are unable to quickly react, and begin to stir chaos in this small gathering. Various wares are falling out of the cart and creating obstacles on the road - broken glass, spilled liquids, etc. Two decided to remain and start to gather up whatever they can carry from the cart.

The guard is getting closer as time passes, and what seems to be sounds of rushing footsteps are echoing behind him.

Amidst all this, the pirate captain is nowhere to be seen. Perhaps using her skills in the trade, the one known as Ice Heart has fled the scene without any of them noticing - getting away before any trouble could have even began.

@Spazzycat101 @Archon @HumansArentReal

Arthur smirked. "What makes you think I'd keep tabs on him? That's not the point of severing connections, girl.", he scoffed.

He leaned back on his chair, took a quick glance at his emptied mug. He remained silent, and looked at Reilara. After a short while, he took a small token from his pockets, and tossed in onto the air. A second after, he caught it with his hand. He opened his palm, and huffed with a smile.

"Well, would you look at that.", he said. "Lady Luck seems to like you, girl."

He leaned forward, returning the token to his pockets before the tapping the table, and said. "I might be able to fetch you something about him."

"But for a price, of course."


Hearing Zashi's question, the feline Median turned her heads towards her companion. "Well...", she said hesitatingly, and after a short pause, she began to tell Zashi the story as to how she ended up working at The Sleeping Rhino.

She told her companion about how she once wandered the streets for months, looking for various jobs to pay for her bedridden father's health, and how she came to meet Grenmar Fostund, or as she would call him - Mr. Gren. She talked about how this Grenmar gave her different tasks and errands, in return that he would take care of her ill father. Surprisingly, their unofficial contract were fulfilled, only to come to halt when her father passed away, as he was no longer able to resist death's pull, even with Grenmar's aid.

She would then speak of how Grenmar took her in, and raised her as his own, and when the time came for his departure, he left her to his brother - Dunmar, which she calls Mr. Dun - the main bartender, and the owner of The Sleeping Rhino. And much like his brother, Dunmar cared for the young Median. She would then explain that she works at The Sleeping Rhino not because she has to, but because she wants to - as payment for these kind acts of these folks.

Ameerha's words sounded sincere, and it would even come out as if she completely trusted Zashi to tell her about this. But this story, apparently does not speak any other Median besides her - her father was a human, and so were Grenmar and Dunmar. It was as if she had been a lone Median all her life - perhaps that is why she is so happy about meeting Zashi, or perhaps there is some other reason for it. Whatever it was, Ameerha didn't bother mentioning it.


Hilma wasn't very skilled at this whole thing. Her disguise was very sloppy, it could barely pass from a stranger's point of view. She didn't know what questions to ask, and how to ask them. One could tell from a simple observation that she wasn't used to doing anything besides her usual chores and routine - which was her job back at that establishment. Although, she did appear to give her best efforts, and try not to be a hindrance to their whole investigation.

Their ventures around the slums didn't bear much fruit, until they came up to this elderly woman in rags. She was dirty, and appeared to quite fragile - presumably her age would be above seventies. She sat down on a wooden chair, her hands clasped on top of a bunch of some slightly dusted, small pieces of cloth.

After hearing Manfred's voice and the words, or rather, word, that came out of his mouth, she glared at him. Her eyebrows furrowed, or at least where they used to be.

"What more do you want from us?", she asked him, clearly not welcoming his company, nor his inquiries. "Your goddess has already taken him. His brother. Even his son!"

"Is she not sated by their deaths?! What more must we lose?!"

Upon closer look, the two would be able to see that this old woman did not believe in the truth of Arce. But she doesn't appear to worship any of the old gods either. It looks as if she had completely denied the existence of any higher power, and only sees religion and such things as merely excuses for the hardships of life.



Recovering Muffin Addict
Reilara stood up straight and crossed her arms. Maybe you didn’t, but somebody you knew did, Reilara thought. When Arthur flipped his coin, Reilara cocked her head in confusion. She certainly wasn’t expecting him to do that. When she realized it was to make his decision on whether he’d help her or not, she was pleased with the result. She moved her hand down to her coin purse and felt its weight. It was quite a bit, but it was all she had. Pick-pocketing was rather lucrative in larger cities.

Slowly, she sat back down. She smiled brightly again. “Thank you for agreeing to help. What is this price you are asking, then?” She kept her hand on her purse to secure it. Having just accidentally revealing the location of it has made her a little paranoid that she’d be pick-pocketed too. Being a thief makes you aware that you are a target for theft as well. Can never be too careful, especially around scum like this. Almost makes me miss my boring florist life… Almost...


Huggles fo all :3
Zashi found herself smiling softly as she met Ameerha’s eyes, relaxing her posture and intending to allow the catgirl’s words to take all of her attention. From the get-go it seemed difficult for her to speak of it, and Zashi was grateful that she was telling this to her.

Her story enraptured the more lizard-like Median from the first word.S he found her heart warmed by the tale, and similarly, felt she saw the man whom she now knew was named Dunmar in a new and better light. She was glad that because of the help of these two men, Ameerha had been able to help her father, and that they were also kind enough to keep helping her until afterward. The whole situation made sense now. It seems that the in reality kindly Mr. Dun really was just having a laugh when he asked if Zashi wanted to buy her. The thought caused a bit of a purplish blush to flood the Median’s cheeks, as she had seriously thought him a much more wicked man than Ameerha’s surely honest account suggested.

Still, the sheer joy with which she greeted the more lizard-like Median earlier, after all of her hasty apologies at her for obstructing her path with Mr Dun’s merchandise, seemed a bit much even knowing what Zashi now knew of her, Mr. Dun, and his brother Grenmar, who seemed like a saint when Ameerha spoke of him, and likely for good reason.

When Ameerha had finished her tale, Zashi nodded and found herself reaching over to lay a clawed hand assuredly on the girl’s shoulder after telling her such a tale. “I see… my condolences for your loss, Ameerha. I find myself glad that Mr. Dun has seen to it that you are taken care of in the meantime.” She wondered if now was a good time to offer her own companionship once she left town, but thought it too sudden. It seemed that Ameerha felt she owed Mr. Dun still, so perhaps she’d remain here. Even then, Zashi found herself musing that she might end up visiting this town far more often if that became the case, if just to see Ameerha again. However, she did have another pressing question on her mind now.

“I find myself wondering, Ameerha. Is there… another reason you were so happy to see me other than having met a fellow Median? Your embrace was so warm and welcoming, and your words so joyfully sincere, that I feel as though there might be a deeper reason. Call me simply curious.”

Zashi smiled, feeling warm even remembering the ecstatic and loving way in which the catgirl greeted her earlier. Perhaps these feelings stemmed from the fact that no one had done soin such a way other than her mother and father, or perhaps something deeper. It seemed to Zashi that the answer would come with time. She felt that the memory speaking so heartfeltly with Ameerha as the sun set and the revelry around them began to peak would stick with her for a long time.

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