Fantasy &nbsp; The Guild of El&#039;yssi - Act 1: To Frolic &amp; Flounder

ThatWhichShouldBe · May 20, 2025

Azukai
Hoyun takes his own seat. He's quite grateful for the motherly orca woman's provided stew- his stomach making loud noises as he takes a deep breath just to enjoy the aroma. Then- Then he starts to slaughter the stew. It's a bit hard to watch. He spoons it into his mouth, chowing down on it with a furious energy, as if he was starving. More of a beast than a man. The sounds coming from Hoyun's ravenous consumption only quited when Sylvia finally spoke, his attention drawn to her. A smile etches itself on his face- surprisingly clean of food given the absolute mess he made devouring his meal. Perhaps it was the fact he didn't allow a single speck of nutrition to escape his maw.

"It is only this swordsman's fault. I am Hoyun, of the Flowing Sword sect, student of the Invincible Crashing Wave."

Quickly, the meal is gone- Hoyun pops up as if he had never sat down to eat at all. He kept himself light on his feet, no matter the circumstances. To let his guard drop when there are the invisible enemies would be... well, likely death.

"I'll head upstairs as well, and get some rest."

It was half a lie. With Sylvia asleep, he expected whatever force was in this village to take its chance now, when she was at her most vulnerable. As he heads up the stairs, he expands his sense of essence as far as it could go. Sylvia was an obvious beacon- he'd take a room next to hers, and use his Essence-sense to monitor her closely. At the first sign of something trying to snack on her... Well, he'd simply interrupt it.

Azukai · May 21, 2025

Mentions:

ThatWhichShouldBe

Helen sighed. She had never bothered to close the door to the room directly across from the stairs. As such, Hoyun had an unobstructed view of its inner horrors. Gone was any trace of a typical inn's interior. In its place sprawled a tangled mass of gnarled vines and roots, all blooming with the same blue flowers found in the surrounding fields of wheat. In the center of the room, a gaping hole led into the similarly infested kitchen and continued even further into the depths of the earth.

More pressing, however, was Sylvia who was actively being wrapped by vines and slowly being lowered into the abyss.

"You couldn't have eaten any slower?" Helen chided with a sharp tch of her tongue. As she spoke, she reached both of her warms outward, welcoming the vines as they coiled around her limbs and began drawing the Essence directly from her pores. "No matter. Surely you can now feel Mother's Love taking root within you."

It wasn't a lie. Although dulled by his active Essence circulation, the effects were already creeping in--faint whispers at the edges of Hoyun's mind, tempting him to lower his guard with promises of his deepest dreams come true.

"And before you do anything rash," Helen quickly added, anticipating a potential retaliation coming from the swordsman. "Mother has a deal..."

----

Mentions:

NotDave

Ralf choosing to shock himself proved surprisingly effective at dulling the influence of whatever had taken root in his mind. The siren's voice receded to the edges of his consciousness, leaving behind only the faintest of whispers that continued to tempt him. Cassiel, Yanisin, and Licht remained unaffected by the peculiar mental communication; though in the end, it did not matter. The remaining villagers began to stumble toward each of them with blank, lifeless expressions on each of their faces. They were not overtly hostile, but the way they gripped their farming tools suggested that conflict could come.

Then, all at once, each villager and Helen began to speak the same shared words...

---

Mentions: Everyone

You may choose.

I shall release myself from all of you. You leave the Dryad in my care and depart from my domain forever.

Or you may accept my love. Offer me me your Essence, and I promise the Dryad will be returned, unharmed; each of you shall walk away alive; and in return, I will grant you that which you heart desires the most.

Perhaps the strength to never let your loved ones suffer in your stead, Licht?

You are stubborn, Ralf. But tell me, can you truly surpass your limitations without my help?

Cassiel, I know much about the history of our land. With me, you could join the greats. Your name etched into the annals of history and time.

Yanisin, shall I gift you the wisdom and experience you need to become the greatest Khan your clan has ever known?

And Hoyun, does your heart still yearn for the maiden from your past? Shall I point you to her path, armed with the strength to protect her, and all who come after?

Now choose, my children.

ThatWhichShouldBe · May 21, 2025

Hoyun slightly tilts his head as he looks upon the scene. His steps are slow, deliberate, as he draws his sword. His mind calculating the possibilities, even as he can feel the whispers gnawing at the edge of his mind. Hm. Those whispers could be troublesome. The words so sickly-sweet fall upon deaf ears. He holds up his left arm and uses his blade to make a single shallow cut upon his forearm- just enough to break the skin without reaching the muscle below. Without impairing his ability to fight in the coming battle ahead. It bleeds and stings- the simple reality of pain cutting through the whispers.

"There is nothing rash about this."

He relaxes his muscles, his breathing becoming easy and measured. A small smile flickers across his face, a glimmer of light on the edge of a bare blade. Even in this dire situation, there was still something funny about it.

"Really, you're not very good at this are you? You really expected me to believe that I could reach greater heights by abandoning who I am? Trade one maiden for another? What kind of cultivator would do that? I will simply save both of them. Which means here and now, I will cut you down."

He holds up a palm in front of his chest in prayer.

"O' Heavens, forgive me for this violence I am about to inflict."

Then there is no more need for words.

Thanny · May 22, 2025

Mentions, interactions:

ThatWhichShouldBe

Licht pondered over matters and Hoyun's last words prior to the latter's leaving the room. Echoes of the past swirled in his mind as he turned over the stew with his spoon again and again, as well as questions about this man's past. Humble, yet direct, Hoyun was a far cry from the beastmen that Licht knew and offered unique perspective.

Then the door opened, forcing him up to his feet.

At first the youth thought it to be the others returning with news. Perhaps by being great applicants they crushed the threat outside. Instead it was a human with a . . . farming tool? What is that instrument doing here at a well-to-do establishment like this one? This human looked local, too, wrapped in thick linens that put his to shame, only he had fur to keep him warm.

The words, though. It was like a puppeteered marionette with a moving mouth, voice not its own. His hair stood up on end as his left hand went immediately to his sheathed knife in his clothes, yet he listened intently. He deciphered a few things from what was spoken to him: the dryad was taken, this "Mother" was bad news, and the inn was jeopardised. How many others were outside, holding makeshift weapons with the same level-headed animosity as the person before him under control of this Essence-stealing demon? What happened to Sylvia? What happened to Hoyun and the matron of the inn?

He did not know what the others would choose out of the options provided them, but he knew this: selling himself or selling Sylvia to the provider of flowers would only end poorly. For better or worse, he had to fly into action. Hoyun was still alive, otherwise the creature would not have spoken to him at the end of its pretty speech. Hoyun was up on the second storey, as was Sylvia. This made matters simple. Licht stood to his full, short height and dropped his hands to his side.

"Kind person offers much. Licht is grateful . . . but refuses."

Locking his left hand into a palm strike towards the speaker, he spurred the air of the room into motion and surged a great burst of wind in a beeline towards the man with a farming tool. The intent was to knock the man clean out of the tavern door he had entered, possibly tearing the door from its hinges in the process from the sudden burst of air pressure, but whether it worked or not Licht did not confirm because Licht was already moving.

The twisting stairwell was quickly climbed, the ocelot beastman rushing up in four quick steps, and while there he noticed Hoyun with weapon drawn and facing the inn's matron. No! She was in on it too? That explained who was being puppeteered into speaking to Hoyun if so. But then, where was Sylvia?

"Swordsman! Where is she?" he shouted, taking out his knife in one swift draw. "Where is Sylvia?!"

magicalmace · May 22, 2025

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NotDave

“Shit!” Ralf exclaimed, and from an outside perspective, it would be hard to guess which particular thing currently going wrong caused his reaction. It could’ve been the Minotaur who was lying on the ground, almost completely drained after following Ralf’s instructions. It could’ve been the shambling farmers approaching with their makeshift weapons drawn. It could’ve been his growing fatigue from channeling as much Essence as he has been. It could’ve been the burning pain in his palm caused by his attempts to stay lucid. It wasn’t the voice inside his head, as that had quieted down significantly following his shock treatment.

Honestly, that worked much better than I expected. I was expecting to have to keep shocking myself, but it seems like that temptation has died down for the most part. Was it the pain, or the lightning? Maybe this thing has a vulnerability to electricity. If it does, then maybe…

He looked down at Yanisin, and over to Cassiel, who both did not seem in the best fighting shape at the moment. He looked around to the flower buds that he had been tempted to collect just minutes ago, and found himself walking towards them again. This time, he isn’t dragging his feet in an intoxicated bliss, but moving with determination, and his knife in his hand.

When your back’s against the wall, it’s time to try something stupid. I don’t know if that line’s from me or Sprongly, but either way, it’s true. If this works the way I want it to, it’ll help out the big guy, and give us a way out. They’re both much stronger than me, but I wouldn’t want something to happen to either of them in case this doesn’t work the first time because I’m certainly not gonna be able to save us. Plus, it’d be pretty bad form to administer something with unknown effects to someone else, so the only real option is…

He slots in his Lightning Gem to the knife, and channels Essence into the blade. He quickly severs the stem, waiting for a feeling like before to wash over him, but, thankfully, his earlier actions seem to be holding steady. He performed his trick to make water inside a flask, the last time he could on this day he reckoned, and swiftly dropped in the bud. He did not look at how it was reacting as he heated the mixture and spun it around, as he turned his attention to the charmed farmers and the others.

Something’s going on at the tavern too, based on what they’re saying. This has to be a Guild sanctioned thing. There’s no way this isn’t just a test, right? I just gotta prove that I won’t give into temptation or something. I’ve been bluffing all day already, what’s one more?

“Both of you, if this doesn’t work, well, I’m sorry,” Ralf called out to the others. He then directed his attention solely at the crowd approaching, and at whoever is controlling them.

“I’m someone who doesn’t receive gifts very well, I’m sad to say. So no, I won’t give you my Essence in exchange for some power. Instead, I think I’m just gonna take it,” He said, and put the bottle up to his lips, and drank.

NotDave · May 24, 2025

Yanisin Mohran

Yanisin stared into the sky. Almost all the Essence he’d collected over his life was gone. His core was fractured, his Essence flow now severed and disrupted, making any attempt to channel the meager amount of Essence remaining akin to pushing a boulder up a hill.

Worst of all, his mind was now defenseless.

The villagers that slowly encroached them began speaking in unison, their words slow and deliberate. Yanisin groaned as he sat himself up, his energy completely depleted and his resolve shaken. As the villagers spoke Yanisin couldn’t help but feel a growing sense of fear, unable to take his gaze off their emotionless, unblinking eyes that were completely disconnected from the movements of the rest of their face as the entity that spoke through them offered them a decision.

“You may choose.
I shall release myself from all of you. You leave the Dryad in my care and depart from my domain forever.
Or you may accept my love. Offer me me your Essence, and I promise the Dryad will be returned, unharmed; each of you shall walk away alive; and in return, I will grant you that which you heart desires the most.”

Yanisin listened as the voice regarded each person who’d entered the tavern earlier, offering various promises in exchange for their compliance.

“Yanisin, shall I gift you the wisdom and experience you need to become the greatest Khan your clan has ever known?“

His breathing became uneven at the mention of his clan. The ache in his chest from the homesickness he’d been trying to push down rose into his throat, his hand unknowingly reaching towards the entity’s offer as he stood to his feet.

“...”

He was so tired, and to not only see them again but fulfill his promise to them so soon?

“I...”

His lip quivered, his thoughts turning to his family and their embrace.

“...I accep-”

The shortest route through the forest is oft the most desirable, my son.

Yanisin stopped, his face in shadow as the voice of his father echoed through his head.

Yet those who tread this path oft find the fastest end.

Yanisin slowly curled his fist into a ball, raising it in the air. He kept it hanging for a few seconds, before bringing it down and thwacking himself in the face, stumbling back. He shook his head in disgust, guilt forming inside his stomach. He hit himself again, this time even harder. He spat to his side, leaving a small red stain in the grass, before taking a heavy step forward and sluggishly raising his fists into a fighting stance.

“I am Yanisin Mohran of the Great River Tribe. On my father’s name as Khan and my pride as his offspring, I do not accept your offers.”

His body weak, his core fractured and his Essence drained, Yanisin grinned to himself.
If he had to fight, then he would fight with everything he had.

This, I accept.

Mentions:

EMIYAman · May 25, 2025

Cassiel Vaudrin
Mentions:

NotDave

Cassiel had not spoken once since Yanisin collapsed.

His monocled eye traced the cracks spiderwebbing through the Minotaur's Essence, faint and sickly like frostbite creeping through glass. One mistake—one moment of uncontrolled generosity—and he was left hanging by threads. Fractured. Nearly consumed.

Foolish. Brave. Entirely, familiarly, human.

Cassiel slowly rose to his feet, coat fluttering softly as a chill gathered around him—not from his magic, but from within. The entity's words echoed across the field, honeyed and precise, wrapping itself around each of them like ivy seeking cracks in their armor.

“Cassiel, I know much about the history of our land. With me, you could join the greats. Your name etched into the annals of history and time.”

A pause.

Cassiel said nothing.

He stood motionless amid the tension, the villagers' unified chant ringing in his ears, their empty eyes glowing with unnatural certainty. The voice that echoed through them reached deep into his mind, more intimate than it had any right to be.

It knew his name.

It knew his dream.

To be remembered. To stand among the greats—Etienne of the Last Archive, Mara of the Thrice-Signed Concord, the few venerables who rewrote what the world thought it knew. And now, this voice offered him a shortcut. No trials, no failed expeditions, no bitter nights spent arguing with dusty texts and uncooperative archivists. Just… the truth. A gift.

He could almost see it: a future where the doors of every archive opened to him. Where his peers, and even his father, looked upon him with admiration. Where he never had to fumble in the dark for forgotten names or lost epochs again.

It was a beautiful vision.

Yet, there were things hidden in that vision. Perhaps conjured from deep within his heart. In it he saw himself. Older, more assured, always smiling. But there was no "Cassiel" in that smile. It was far too cold, too methodical. It was a smile that looked down upon the world. Along with eyes that saw far beyond the present, as if he wasn't even really there. Even those who had praised and respected him held fear in their eyes. The fear that their secrets would be ruthlessly unraveled and laid bare before the world. That the monocle wearing monster they kowtowed too would not spare them his obsession for the truth. In this vision he had no friends, no family, not truly. All he had, were hoarded secrets. And it was cold, so very very cold.

Cassiel clenched his hand around his pen. The ornate focus, embedded with its Ice Gem, pulsed faintly. Steady. Real.

He extended his left hand, tracing a small circle mid-air with a fingertip glowing faintly blue. A runic symbol snapped to life—a small glyph for Silence, a ward to just barely slow any further influence from creeping thoughts. He breathed once, slow and deliberate.

“History is not given. It is written.”

His voice cut cleanly through the gathered fog, calm and steady. Detached, yet unshakably clear.

“And I have no interest in carving my name upon the bark of a parasite.”

He stepped forward, casting a glance toward Yanisin, battered but standing. Then Ralf—clever, unorthodox, and unshaken even when lightning was the price for clarity. There was uncertainty in all there states, but they yet stood even now. Cassiel inclined his head almost imperceptibly. A wry grin playing across his features.

“Your offer lacks precision,” he continued, speaking now toward the possessed crowd. “Ambition without control. Power without cost. Knowledge... without rigor.” He narrowed his eyes slightly. “You speak in temptation because you lack the strength to command. That makes you dangerous. That makes you false.”

The cold around him deepened as an arcane circle etched itself into the earth beneath his feet—faint ice-blue lines pulsing outward from a sigil engraved into his boots.

“Yanisin still stands, so too does Ralf. That is your failure. Proof of your fallibility”

He raised his artifact—the ornate silver pen gleaming faintly, pulsing with Essence. One might’ve expected him to conjure some great glacial construct, or unleash a volley of spells to answer the threat.

But Cassiel did nothing of the sort. With what Essence remained he could barely make a few ice cubes. In fact any resistance outside of the one that truly mattered meant nothing,

Instead, he extended the pen like a blade, and gently touched its tip to the edge of the fractured air where the entity’s voice lingered.

“You asked for a choice. Here is mine.”

The glyph he'd drawn earlier activated with a quiet chime, releasing a brief pulse that didn't attack—but instead recorded. A ripple passed over the field like a page turning.

“I reject your bargain. And I will remember this moment, down to the shape of your words and the cadence of your breath.”

His tone remained utterly calm.

“You crave Essence, but you’ve misjudged your prey. I am not here to make history. I am here to understand it.”

He gave a small, cold smile—one a historian might give to a crumbling ruin.

“And I understand you now.”

Azukai · May 27, 2025

Act 1: To Frolic & Flounder

A cup of warm tea, a spread of cartography tools, and a sheet of high-quality parchment--three essentials that normally provided a soothing experience for Vulpus. Today, however, they were little more than a minor distraction from the heavy thoughts weighing on his mind.

Vulpus was a Beastfolk who prided himself on his calm, calculating nature. It wasn’t enough to simply have a plan; he needed contingencies, predictions, certainties. And this year’s examination carried far too many unknowns for his liking.

Why was the Guildmaster acting as the examination architect, rather than leaving the task to the examiners?

Why had he unearthed the long-eradicated species, Faebloom, from the vault?

Why had Luciel been summoned?

And why, above all, did his instructions specify isolating five hand-selected applicants from the others?

With a quiet sigh, he reached into one of his desk's drawers and retrieved a small stack of applications. After spreading them across the surface, he began scanning for anything of note. Cassiel…Licht…Ralf...Yanisin…Hoyun…Each was a capable candidate in their own right, yet nothing explained the Guildmaster’s reasoning behind their selection. Unless--

His conjecture was cut short by the faintest disturbance in the air. Two individuals blinked into his tent and immediately dropped to one knee. Each was cloaked in camouflage, and their faces were concealed behind masks shaped into the visage of a fox. The figure on the right was the first to speak--his voice deep and gruff, almost beast-like.

“Master, the barrier continues to function, as expected.”

Vulpus nodded in appreciation, though his expression remained unreadable. “And what of the applicants?”

This time, the figure on the left, a woman, answered. “Given their experience, they are performing slightly above expectations. However, they are rapidly reaching their limit. Two are showing signs of moderate infection, one has fractured their core, and it is only a matter of time before the remaining members succumb. Also, Helen--“

She was cut off as a haggard third disciple blinked into the room and immediately spoke without kneeling. “Master, there have been sudden…complications. We believe the Sigils may have been tampered with prior to their activation. The investigation is ongoing, but we’ve already detected several anomalies in the deployed Essence field.” He paused, giving himself a chance to finally catch his breath. Then, with visible hesitation, he delivered the final piece of his report. “Also…we believe the Faebloom has entered early-stage manifestation.”

Vulpus never so much as twitched at the news. His calm demeanor remained intact, though his tone sharpened as he issued his subsequent orders.

“I want the Arcanist division to analyze and neutralize the anomalies. The rest of you, prepare the applicants for immediate departure. We no longer have until dawn to begin the examination.”

In a blink of an eye, the trio of disciples vanished into the shadows, off to carry out their assignments. Vulpus was quick to follow, pausing only to retrieve his stave before stepping outside of his tent and into the forest encampment. The energy in the air was palpable--tension, excitement, fear--all expected emotions radiating from the early arrivals.

If only they knew the hardest challenge of their lives was about to begin.

He couldn’t help but grin. Part of him was almost jealous he wouldn’t be joining them. After all, what aspiring member of the Guild wouldn’t want to face the legendary Faebloom--an ancient floral-faunal anomaly known for having devastated an isle?

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Mentions: Thanny ThatWhichShouldBe NotDave EMIYAman magicalmace

Helen remained unperturbed by Hoyun’s combative stance. She chose to ignore him entirely and continued to channel Essence into the vines wrapped around her body instead. After all, he and the others were already too late. Even if he and the Beastfolk cut her down, the Dryad had already reached mother’s embrace.

“For mother, I offer my all.”

The surge of multifaceted Essence that began to pour from the depths of the tavern felt equally overwhelming as it was inviting--a siren’s lullaby tempting all who could hear it closer to the abyss. The energy rapidly swept across the village, resonating with the countless flower buds nestled amongst the wheat. Then, all at once, the buds began to unfurl into a beautiful, yet haunting sight. From each blossom, glowing specks of white began to rise, drifting gently into the air like a myriad of fireflies.

If there had been any confusion before, the true nature of the flowers was now clear--incubators for the thousands of creatures flittering through the air; each one instinctively drawn to the nearest living being.

Yet despite it all, hope was not lost. Much like the earlier surge of Essence, a second wave of energy began to emanate along the outskirts of the village. Numerous sigils etched into the earth flared to life, moments before an intricate dome of Essence cast a protective veil over the entire village.

Its effects were immediate, nullifying the opposing source of Essence and causing the floating entities to vanish entirely. Even the villagers and Helen were affected, each of them collapsing onto the ground, unconscious but thankfully still breathing.

For the first time today, the village fell silent. Not in the sinister way it had before, but with a calm that signaled the storm had finally passed.

All along the barrier, faint ripples formed near the ground, as numerous cloaked individuals stepped into the village. Each of them wore a mask shaped like a fox’s visage and were led by the very vulpine they represented. While most of the newcomers rushed to the applicant’s sides, offering assistance and aid, Vulpus strolled forward, clapping ever so slowly.

“Wonderful. Absolutely wonderful,” he declared in a booming voice that could reach even the distance applicants. “Each and every one of you have far surpassed my expectations for the exam.”

He gestured towards his disciples, before continuing his address.

“Please, take a moment to rest. Accept their aid. Then allow me to lead you to the tavern, where we might enjoy festivities and celebrate the start of your new adventure, new Seekers of the Guild.”

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Mentions:

irlVector

JINNI

Megilagor

For this year’s exam, the invitation had not been entirely accurate. The true destination was not the ‘Village of the Lost’, but rather a temporary encampment that had been set up a short distance away. Even if an applicant tried, they would have quickly discovered that it was impossible to step through the dome of Essence erected over the village’s perimeter. At the very least, its interwoven threads of multi-colored Essence served as a brilliant beacon that ensured no applicant could miss the location of the exam.

The camp, itself, was rather minimal—offering individual tents for personnel, several large tents for teams of applicants, and a small bonfire to help ward against the biting cold. Only upon arrival did the personnel pay any heed to the applicants, offering them brief direction: Their assigned tent and a missive introducing the contents of the exam. Even when prodded for more answers, they remained perfectly silent, refusing to engage with even the simplest of requests an applicant might have had.

Normally, the atmosphere of the camp remained tense, yet oddly welcoming. Many of the early arrivals were more than happy to engage with one another--distracting them from their anxieties and forming early bonds that would prove vital for their chances of success. Historically, the Guild examination, though a competition among teams, had always encouraged collaboration. After all, relying on a diverse range of skills often produced far better results when confronting the dangers in the field.

This year, however, things were not the same. The conversations taking place within each tent were loud and furious, as team members debated the contents of the missive amongst themselves.

“This is not an exam!” A Dryad named Sylvia declared in a fit of righteous fury. The flowers along her many vines burned with fiery passion as she threw the missive to the floor, then turned to face her three teammates with an expectant glare.

“They want us to clear a fucking dungeon?” She added with an incredulous huff.

‘Dungeon’ was the term for a rare phenomenon that only manifested under highly specific conditions. It required an Essence source powerful enough to influence the very nature of its surroundings--often twisting the environment into an amalgamation of what it once was. Normally, only highly experienced teams were dispatched to neutralize a dungeon’s source, allowing the land to gradually return to its natural state.

Which is why many were now furious with the expectations of this year’s exam.

--------------------------------
Time is of the essence. We have lost contact with a team of five applicants who journeyed into the Village of the Lost ahead of the examination schedule.

To those who wish to undertake this year’s exam, it is important to understand the gravity of the situation.

The Village of the Lost is no longer the village it once was. Due to the influence of a unknown source, the village has been converted into a Dungeon. We have erected a barrier to prevent the spread of the Dungeon’s influence; however, should you choose to enter, you will be unable to return until the barrier has been lowered.

Your mission is as follows:

1. Clear the source of the dungeon.
2. Ensure the safety of the missing applicants and any villagers you find.

--------------------------------

irlVector · May 28, 2025

Theryn
Sheet | Human

The relentless wind howled like a banshee through the jagged passes of El'yssi's northern roads, buffeting Theryn Voss so fiercely she felt as though the world itself resisted her presence. Her boots crunched against brittle ice, each step heavier and more stubborn than the last. Sleepless nights, meager rations, biting storms—her body screamed for rest, yet forward she pressed, driven only by the quiet, persistent hum of the brass cube against her chest.

Months spanned her journey from Synthos, town by weary town, road by weary road. Being exiled hammered the lesson in like iron: nothing could be taken for granted anymore. Eyes filled with hostility followed her wherever she went, her once-proud station stripped away. Strangers in taverns kept their distance, wary of the rogue engineer with tools of unknowable nature at her side. More than once, she'd narrowly avoided trouble—cutthroats eyeing her with greed, guards suspicious of her "junk," and hunger always scratching at the edge of her consciousness.

Yet it was solitude that cut her deepest, left to hobble onwards with only the whispered companionship of the relic and the occasional stutter from the battered automaton perched upon her shoulder.

"C-cube's resonance harmonizing," Clippy occasionally quipped; these cryptic words always coincided with strange flutters of warmth from the relic—a sensation Theryn had yet to decipher, no matter how intently she studied it each night.

Weeks faded to a bleary blur, yet the mountains eventually rose before her—Mount Theros, looming stark and forbidding against the frozen sky. The Village ought to lay somewhere below its mist-shrouded peaks, and though exhaustion had long since overtaken her senses, she felt the barest flicker of hope ignite. Perhaps here, finally, would be her chance.

The cube pulsed gently, as if reassuring her.

Her vision blurred as she surged forward up a last steep incline, determination at the edge of willpower. Suddenly, silhouettes appeared—masked guards in Guild colors moving swiftly towards her. Voices shouted in alarm, concern hastening their movement, but Theryn barely registered the words. Her legs folded, her mind drifted, and darkness rushed in to claim her, consciousness slipping away with the hazy relief that she had made it at last.

She woke slowly to canvas walls surrounding her and the musty scent of herbal poultices strong in the infirmary tent. A wave of confusion melted into clarity as the memories trickled in—the collapse, the guard voices, and the welcome oblivion that had followed. Carefully, she flexed fingers stiff with lingering cold. Her belongings lay beside her on a nearby table—satchel, journal, Clippy (now perched quietly and dormant), and the reassuringly heavy weight of the brass cube.

For the first time in many weeks, Theryn allowed herself a moment to simply breathe. Her exile from Synthos, the ghosts of Kryora, the countless hardships on the road, everything she'd gone through had nearly broken her spirit. Yet, the pulse that answered her fingertips as she gently brushed the cube reminded her that something lay beneath it all—something precious, something hidden.

They had called her obsessed, reckless, delusional. "Well," she whispered softly, a half-smile playing upon her lips, "maybe they were right—but obsessive or not, I'll make them all see just how much they missed."

Confirming this vow to herself, Theryn rose and donned her gear piece by piece, carefully storing her equipment back into the battered satchel. Clippy sputtered awake, brass hinges whirring hesitantly—a metallic chirrup greeting her as fondly as ever.

Outside the tent flap, the encampment bustled—voices tense, not at all what she expected from a usual Guild examination. "Hmm..." Curiously, Theryn pushed aside the canvas flaps and stepped out into the crisp mountain air, squinting beneath harsh morning light before a sharp voice from a nearby tent jolted her senses fully awake.

"This is not an exam! They want us to clear a fucking dungeon?"

Instantly intrigued, Theryn followed the sound and pulled aside a nearby tent flap to spot an agitated Dryad, her flowering vines aflame with anxious fury. Others stood nearby, doubt and uncertainty etched starkly onto their faces.

Theryn adjusted her satchel and cleared her throat, careful to maintain calm clarity in her introduction despite her weariness. "My name's Theryn Voss—I couldn't help overhearing," she offered, projecting her voice boldly enough to cut cleanly through the tension without hostility. "Just arrived, passed out, and already this place is livelier than I'd bargained for. What's this dungeon everyone's on about?"

She kept a measure of quiet confidence in her tone, underscored by sincere curiosity. Theryn had no illusions about dungeons, ruins, and relics—this strange development could very well be her wheelhouse, the challenge she'd waited years to confront. For a moment, her thumb pressed absently against the cube beneath her coat, feeling its faint heartbeat-like pulse echo softly within her.

Whatever secrets awaited, she felt uniquely prepared. Now all she needed were confirmations and allies—preferably in that order.

magicalmace · May 28, 2025

Mentions:

NotDave

Ralf blinked. The world in front of him had changed so suddenly that he wondered that if he blinked again that it would change just as suddenly. In one moment, villagers approached him and the others with weapons held high, speaking in a collective voice, and magical flowers bloomed into strange creatures Ralf had never seen before. The next moment, the creatures vanished into thin air, and the villagers collapsed to the ground.

There was an initial level of panic about the safety of the villagers, but Ralf could quickly spot the rise and fall of their chests, and so one question was answered. Unfortunately, Ralf had many, many questions, but now he had someone to answer them. The Beastman had appeared, and seemingly solved all of the ongoing problems in an instant. Ralf watched as someone in a fox mask rushed to his side, helping him to stand, and he quickly identified that they must work with his assumed savior.

“So, this was all just a test then, yeah? Something the Guild set up?” Ralf asked, but didn’t wait for a response before starting his questions again, his frustration rising. “If this was set up by the Guild, what about the guy over there who’s dead? Was that a part of all of this?” Ralf once again only waited a breath before continuing, the pent-up emotions and sudden shift from a life-or-death situation to a calm one causing him to lose control of his words. “And who even are you? There was that woman in the tavern, but I haven’t even seen you before. Were you just watching us, laughing, as we scrambled our way through all of this?!”

I’m not this guy’s entertainment. He doesn’t get to just watch as I struggle and fight, when it must have been so easy for him to save everyone. I really hate people like him, who just flaunt their strength…

But, I guess, regardless on if it was a set-up from the Guild or not, he did save us. And it probably doesn’t look very good to treat a higher up of the Guild like how I just did…

Ralf took a long and deep breath, and rose to his feet, accepting the aid of the fox-masked helper.

“Sorry,” Ralf said to the Beastman, not offering any further words. Instead, his attention turned inward. Both mentally, as well as also physically.

I drank a potion made from one of those things. I didn’t even get to look at it really, so I don’t know if it dissolved or not. Plants and minerals usually don’t have a strong enough configuration of Essence to hold together when making a potion, but that thing wasn’t a plant. It was alive. They all disappeared when the fox guy showed up, or at least all of the ones we could see…

Ralf looked downward and pondered on if he had made a life-threatening decision in the moment or not. As he looked down, he saw Yanisin still sprawled on the ground, still in pretty rough shape from the look of it, and felt a large wave of guilt. He turned to face the helpers gathering around the Minotaur.

“Be careful with the big guy. He’s gonna need some special attention, I think,” Ralf said and took a large sigh before turning back to the Beastman to listen to any answers that would be given.

Thanny · May 28, 2025

Mentions:

ThatWhichShouldBe

Licht's knife and head leveled at the otari matron of the inn, her speaking of an enigmatic mother. The vines were sapping her of Essence, that much was to be observed. Like before, he did not know what to do, doubt cloying all thought. Should he attempt to cut the vines or her? She was a fully fledged Guild member and he just a candidate to be taken under the wing! Nevertheless . . . Sylvia. Hoyun appeared too distracted, summoning up the courage for something. Could it be the human too doubted himself?

A sudden flash of rainbow, and he was lost, too close to the epicenter to react, or perhaps more likely he was too weak to fight against its effects. Its radiance overtook him and lulled him with the sensation of comfort, that everything was all right as long as he did not resist. He found himself doing just that until the cavalry came, a surge of purification that collapsed the otari woman and left him and Hoyun still standing. The vines twitched on the floor, no longer caressing her, but writhing under her weight and sinew.

Befuddled, Licht found himself with clear thoughts again, his breath labored from doubled, renewed panic. Just what kind of madness did he get himself into?

“Wonderful. Absolutely wonderful. Each and every one of you have far surpassed my expectations for the exam. Please, take a moment to rest. Accept their aid. Then allow me to lead you to the tavern, where we might enjoy festivities and celebrate the start of your new adventure, new Seekers of the Guild.”

This . . . was a test, one they all passed? But it felt so tangibly real, and there was the lifeless body outside. If this was a test, was the otari a proctor? Was the whole thing as duplicitous as he now thought it to be, a masque to cover what really existed?

He walked toward Hoyun and Helen, observing the rooms with a growth of fear. His knife, held firmly in reverse grip with as much determination in he could muster, flashed white in the candlelight. Was that fake too? And just where was Sylvia? Curiously he entered the room behind Helen, in search for her with a cautious gait. He cannot take the moment to rest on his laurels like the mysterious booming voice offered. He needed to find her.

Megilagor · May 29, 2025

Lily Zenko
<Scroll Box Below>

Lily was sitting around on one of the seats provided by the guild under the tent's shade, checking on her gear as one normally did. She hasn't even looked at the missive that was given to her before, as she wanted to steel her nerves first, though the yell from the Dryad did not help.
"We are adventurers. Sure, we might not be ones yet, but we would have ventured into a dungeon one way or another in our lives. At least this one is surrounded by the guild, I prefer this one to a wild one out in the sticks, honestly." Lily said with a quite serious tone, quite unbefitting of her, dungeon delving wasn't easy, she got to know that much from the adventurers she traveled with.

She picked up her missive and read it to herself. Knowing that five people ventured inside the dungeon ahead of schedule and their mission is to rescue them along with any villagers left there only added to the weight on their shoulders, clearing a dungeon was hard enough already, thankfully the other applicants should be able to fight so that would just bolster their ranks, unless they were injured, its the villagers which would be a problem. Not knowing if they would listen to their commands, and get themselves killed or worse, them all.

Lily spotted someone entering their tent, looked at them with squinted eyes, though after a second she stopped that, a small but visible smile formed on her face as she winked in the direction of the new person. "Well, Theryn. My name is Lily Zenko, and the one yelling louder than a mandrake is Sylvia. As for your question. The village near here turned into a dungeon. Five applicants for the guild went there directly instead of coming here first. And the guild's idea is to have us enter the dungeon, rescue the five applicants that entered it earlier, and any villagers that might still live inside, clear the dungeon, and evacuate ourselves out of there as our test. Got all that?"

Lily's speech example 45EAB8
Height: 5'7'' (~170cm)
Age: 20
Race: Fox Beastfolk
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Azukai

NotDave · May 30, 2025

Yanisin Mohran

Yanisin stood still, the tremor in his arms becoming more apparent every second as the strained effort it took just to keep them raised hammered away at his aching muscles, a twisted grimace tightening his jaw. He stared intently at the villagers slowly approaching him, forcing his mind to focus on anything but the tiredness that bled into every miniscule movement he made.

With his Essence almost entirely depleted, he’d never felt so exhausted just... being. He was drained after climbing this mountain, sure, but he should still have had enough energy left to fight - but where there was once a wellspring of life dancing within him now lay a dormant and desolate... hollow-ness.

And yet, anger shrouded his face. It had stolen his life-force, yes - but he could recover, over time. He could regain his strength, his health - even his fractured core would mend itself eventually.

No. What angered him was his own foolishness. It had offered him everything he wanted and he was going to just take it, without thought for any repercussion or consequence.

Yanisin furrowed his brow, the guilt burrowing deeper in his stomach.

He’d almost betrayed everything he stood for. All his life he knew the difficult path that lay ahead of him, and yet at the first sign of a supposed shortcut he'd nearly stumbled into the actions and ignorance of a Beastfolk not worthy of ever setting foot amongst his people again. The actions of a Khan represent the strength of the whole, and in his weakness he’d nearly thrown away everything his people believed him to be.

In his actions, he knew he’d let them down.

He'd let his father down.

But no more.

“There is no wisdom or experience to be found in the honeyed promises of a being that preys on the minds of innocent people, a being who speaks through puppets and trickery. You have made them slaves to your will, while making mockery of our pursuits and our beliefs.”

Anger flashed across his face like a hammer to burning steel on an anvil.

“But no more.”

After reaffirming himself, he stood ready. The words of his allies gave him courage, knowing they too were firm in their beliefs. Yanisin smiled as they spoke, comforted that they were not as weak-willed as he had nearly been.

Silence filled the air as the villagers slowly gazed at them, pausing in their approach. Then, from the direction of the tavern a hauntingly calm voice spoke, its alluring effect almost overpowering with each syllable it carefully wove into the air.

“For mother, I offer my all.”

Almost as if guided by these words, a surge of energy shot across the village. The flowers surrounding them began to shimmer, a delicate energy pulsating lightly through each stem before slowly unfurling into small, beautiful white buds. The buds began to gently float into the air, thousands of small spores escaping the field of flowers they were trapped within, slowly drifting towards any living creature in their vicinity.

With the last of his remaining might he gripped the index finger of his right hand and, taking a deep breath, yanked it back with a nauseating SNAP, the sharp pain piercing through the overwhelming allure of the voice inside his mind. Yanisin cried out, doing everything he could to focus his anger on the floating buds surrounding them, ready to crush each spore individually if he had to - but before he could act, another wave of energy began to pulsate around them - this time from the fringes of the village. Almost like a wave the new energy blanketed towards them, the spores dissipating as they were engulfed by this secondary force. The villagers surrounding them collapsed, unconscious but breathing as they lay still amongst the now depleted flowers.

“Wonderful. Absolutely wonderful,” a voice proclaimed in the distance. “Each and every one of you have far surpassed my expectations for the exam.”

As it spoke, Yanisin finally fell to the ground, the last of his strength giving out as masked individuals appeared beside each of them. His vision began to darken, the last words he heard echoing in his mind as he blacked out.

“...Please, take a moment to rest. Accept their aid. Then allow me to lead you to the tavern, where we might enjoy festivities and celebrate the start of your new adventure, new Seekers of the Guild.”

Mentions:

Azukai · Jun 8, 2025

Mentions:

irlVector

Megilagor

Sylvia sighed. There was something so naively optimistic about Lily’s response that it shifted her frustrations away from the dungeon and onto the newcomer instead.

"I...I'm actually a bit speechless..." She said, wide-eyed and dumbfounded. Though her expression remained innocent, her tone carried an unmistakable bite. "Do applicants these days know nothing about the Guild Examination?" With a shake of her head, she turned her attention to the other arrival and gave the woman a cursory glance from head to toe. Upfront, she wasn't particularly noteworthy. After all, humans were humans in Sylvia's eyes--most of them looked the same, acted the same, and were always obsessed with their stupid little toys.

Her gaze settled on the whirring parrot perched on Theryn's shoulder--point proven. Instantly, her flowers burned with greater intensity, to the point that small wisps of Fire Essence began to lash from the petals. Like before, her words still carried that same familiar bite, but this time, there was a clear edge of anger beneath them.

"Please tell me you have more to offer than a literal toy."

Traces of Essence began to swell around her eyes; both of which now glowed with the same color and intensity as her flowers. On the surface, her technique resembled Essence Sight--a common basic Arte used to detect traces and flow of Essence--though the sheer density of Essence gathered in her eyes suggested something far more advanced.

Again, she gave Theryn a slow glance from head to toe. Yet as she did, her flowers shifted from the burning red to a far calmer orangish-yellow hue. Traces of Essence still lingered around the blooms; though the flames had faded, replaced by the more familiar flow of Nature Essence expected from a Dryad.

"I'm amazed the proctors allowed your other toy, but I suppose that's to be expected, given you don't even have an actual core," she finally concluded, her eyes also fading back to their normal blue.

"Sticking with the two of you is doomed," she sighed again.

Without another word, she turned to leave the tent, only to freeze as a short, foxlike Beastfolk hobbled inside. Without hesitation, she dropped to one knee and bowed her head. After all, standing before her was none other than Vulpus Aldor, the Maestro of Runes and the only living S-rank archeologist of the Guild.

"That will not do, Sylvia," he began in a calm, reassuring tone. "Lily, Theryn, Sylvia--you were assigned to this team for particular reasons. And under Guild policy, you may not abandon your assigned team to join another. Either you complete the examination together, or you step down from the challenge together."

In his free hand, not holding his stave, was a small bag of tokens, which he tossed onto the floor of the tent. "You are of the few remaining teams to have not made their decision. Use the runes to access the dungeon, or kindly depart from this place."

With that, he moved to exit the tent, pausing only to leave some parting words of advice for the Dryad. "Do not allow your privilege to cloud your judgement, child."

Her flowers and her face burned with a deep crimson red hue. this time, not with anger, but with a flush of active embarrassment at being called out by the examiner.

She wasn't wrong though...How were they going to succeed with the group they had?

EMIYAman · Jun 8, 2025

Cassiel Vaudrin
Mentions:

NotDave

Cassiel didn’t move at first.

He remained kneeling in the grass, one gloved hand still pressed into the dirt where his sigil had been moments ago, the other loosely clutching his arcane pen. His lenses were speckled with pollen and stray spores, but he made no effort to wipe them clean. His mind was still reeling—racing to catalog and categorize everything that had just happened, while some quieter part of him whispered that it was already too late for data. The event had outpaced even his calculations.

He had witnessed an entire village fall into the grip of an Essence-born delusion, felt the invasive harmony of it trying to twist his perception. He had seen Yanisin—stoic, steadfast Yanisin—shatter a finger to reclaim his mind. He had heard the bite in Ralf’s voice, felt the same sick, crawling question in his gut.

Was this truly all… a test?

The moment Vulpus spoke, Cassiel’s gaze snapped toward the figure. That languid voice, that theatrical applause—so at odds with the exhaustion in Cassiel’s bones.

It took effort not to sneer. He was too tired to maintain the practiced mask of neutrality that came so easily in classrooms and courtrooms alike.

He rose to his feet with deliberate care, brushing off pollen from the hem of his coat. The fox-masked operatives were already tending to the others—Ralf was upright now, but his questions had left echoes. Cassiel approached slowly, not toward the center of the group but toward Yanisin’s unconscious form.

He paused over the Minotaur, gaze unreadable, then knelt beside him.

“…Stubborn as a cliff-face,” he muttered, the faintest ghost of a smile touching his lips. “You’d make a fine anchor point for a Essence circle.”

He reached out and adjusted the folds of Yanisin’s cloak to cover a shoulder more evenly. The gesture was precise, almost ceremonial. A scholar’s way of offering comfort. Quiet, clinical, but deeply felt.

Only then did Cassiel finally speak up loud enough for the others to hear—voice colder than usual, like frost forming on glass.

“Vulpus,” he began, turning his gaze to the Beastman. “Was the objective of this examination truly to test our combat capabilities, or was it to gauge our susceptibility to manipulation? Psychological profiling under threat of real casualties?” He said it not as an accusation, but as a formal inquiry—one scholar addressing another authority, sharp and careful.

“Because if it was the latter, I’d like that made explicit.”

He stepped away from Yanisin and folded his hands behind his back, posture iron-straight despite the weight of fatigue pressing down.

“If we are to be Seekers now, then I’d prefer not to be kept in the dark regarding what the Guild truly values.”

His eyes lingered on the unconscious villagers—their still forms, the quiet rise and fall of their chests. Then on Helen, the vessel who had offered herself to a motherly force none of them could truly name. There was pity in his gaze, but also warning. This situation had made it apparent to him how easy it was to fall in love with beautiful lies.

He turned back to Ralf and spoke with a touch more softness. Noticing the troubled expression upon his face.

“You did what you had to. We all did. If you’re worried about the potion—it didn’t seem to destabilize your Essence flow. But I’ll do a diagnostic scan at the tavern to be certain.”

A beat.

“…Assuming we’re not being tested again.”

His words were pointed showing how he felt about this "test". Despite his feelings he did not outright express them, at least not in the way he felt was deserved. Despite his eccentric nature he was still a noble; this kind of social maneuvering was quite familiar to him. To probe your enemies and even your allies while giving as little away as to your true feelings on the matter. It wasn't quite the courts honeyed words and hidden daggers, but it got the point across.

Cassiel turned at last toward the tavern, but paused—just once—to glance skyward. The air was heavy with aftermath, but for the first time, it no longer hummed with danger.

He didn’t let himself relax just yet.

Not until he knew for certain that all the masks were off.
Not until he understood why.

Azukai · Jun 9, 2025

Mentions:

NotDave

Apart from the initial entrance of the fox-clad arrivals, the village scene unfolded far less chaotically than one might have anticipated. As quickly as they had come, most of the cloaked individuals had melded back into the shadows, leaving only a few scouting the area and another handful gathered around Yanisin's unconscious body. Given his massive stature, they were primarily discussing the logistics of transporting and housing him for treatment; all while one of them poured an unknown concoction down his throat.

The woman in question offered Ralf a quick nod along and a reassuring glance regarding his teammate's condition. "He will be just fine. M-...Our medical team is well equipped to handle something as simple as a minor fracture in a rudimentary core."

While this exchange took place, Vulpus remained patient and attentive as Cassiel directed a steady stream of questions his way. By the end, his brow had even furrowed--the questions had been far more mature than he had anticipated from such a young applicant. To the point, he couldn't help but exhale hearty, booming laughter in response.

"To think I would be addressed so pointedly. It is refreshing, after decades of reverence."

Vulpus' gaze drifted past the village, towards the towering peak of Mount Theros, which rose endlessly into the sky. "This is but the first step you taken on your journey to becoming an Explorer. There is no rush to understand the intentions behind this exam. For in time, all shall become clear through your own understanding."

He regained his focus, waving his free hand towards the heart of the village. "This shall be your home for many seasons to come. You will study under the tutelage of my clan. You will grow as individuals. And in time, the dreams that you have sought through the Guild shall become a reality for you all."

With nothing more to say on the matter, Vulpus gave Cassiel a quick pat on the back before turning his attention to the members of his clan still debating the logistics of Yanisin's treatment. "Take him to the tavern cellar. There is an entrance in the back where you can transport him far easier than through the kitchen hatch. A medical team has set up a clinic and is awaiting his arrival."

Several bows later, the members of his team began their obvious struggle to lift the minotaur--a task that only grew worse as they began the slow trudge through the field towards the tavern. Likewise, Vulpus gave one final wave in the direction of the tavern before departing himself--slow and steady, as he hobbled along.

But one detail lingered--the villagers who lay unattended and abandoned on the ground.

------

Mentions:

ThatWhichShouldBe

The tavern had undergone a significant change since the erection of the barrier. Any traces of the vines, roots, and flowers had vanished from the floors and walls, though physical damage, such as the hole in the floor, remained. Still, there wasn't anything of particular interest left in the room. Helen remained unconscious on the floor. And like before, the hole led down to the kitchen, where an open hatch was now visible in the wood floorboards. From the second floor, the depths of the hatch were too dark to see into, but nothing appeared immediately threatening, nor did it offer any immediate clues about Sylvia's whereabouts.

Moments later, a member of the fox-clan rose from the depths below--a sack of fruits, meats, and vegetables slung across his back. Upon spotting Hoyun and Licht hovering above him, he offered a cheerful wave and called out with a quick slew of directives. "Please be cautious around that hole. The floor may be unstable. I urge you to come down to the tavern floor, where we shall prepare a feast of celebration for your success."

Sure enough, more clan members soon funneled into the kitchen, either through the door or from the cellar below, bringing additional supplies to add to the growing culinary mix.

magicalmace · Jun 11, 2025

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EMIYAman

Ralf was stunned. Some questions were answered, while others just gave way to more questions. Not enough questions were answered for Ralf’s liking, especially after the bevy launched by Cassiel. But Vulpus didn’t seem to care about answering anything, at least at the moment. Ralf figured that for the moment, the best plan was to return to the tavern, given that there was nothing else to do in the current situation. He turned around, but quickly remembered an important detail. He looked to the ground, and saw the horde of villagers, which had not so long ago raised their weapons to attack him and his group. They still lived, their chests rising and falling rhythmically. But they remained still, the fox-masked individuals only seeming to care about the newly decreed Seekers, leaving the village folk almost totally alone. Ralf felt an anger rising in his chest as he watched Vulpus’s clan ignore the civilians.

That fox is really pissing me off… Normal people are just beneath him, I bet that’s what he thinks. Well, I’ll show him. This normal person will help these people out while he sits in the tavern making merry.

Ralf tapped his foot a few times on the ground after he’d paused to think, but quickly turned around after reaching his conclusion. He felt determined to help them, at least for a few moments. While he had been thinking and planning, an emotion that he was used to experiencing but tried his best to push away hovered in the back of his mind. Doubt. And while it was not overly powerful, much like the enemy he had just seen vanquished, it began to spread its roots through every thought, becoming more and more prevalent every moment it was allowed to exist.

But… What if the plant was right? What if I don’t belong here? If anyone looked at everyone here, they could easily see that I’m the odd one out. As much as I hate the fox, he could probably end me before I even noticed. I climbed and fought my way here, but this was real danger. A real fight. And I did… nothing? All I did was take a stupid risk that didn’t even do anything. Maybe I should’ve just taken the plant up on its offer. Especially if we’re gonna be here for “seasons”. Is this even anything to do with the Guild? I really don’t remember hearing about anything like this with the normal Guild examination…

How long are you gonna feel sorry for yourself?

What?

It’s getting old, really.

Wha- Just… shut up?

Make me.

I’m just thinking to myself, I can make you. You’re me. My thoughts. And right now I’m kind of having a crisis, so I need you to go away.

An unnecessary one, but sure, a crisis.

Ok, actually, why aren’t you stopping?

Because you need someone to give you a kick in the ass. You do belong here. You worked just as hard as anyone else to get here, probably harder in fact. You climbed up that mountain with grit and determination alone. Sure, you took a stupid risk with the plant, but it made sense at the time. And while Vulpus is a jerk, if you’re worried about belonging, why not take him up on his training? Seems a lot more straightforward than swallowing a bug.

I… Ok, you might be right, but I’m not happy about it.

I’m not happy about having to pick you up either, so I guess we’re even.

Ralf shook his head, his internal dialogue being more lively than he had anticipated. He looked at the villagers again, and then towards Cassiel, a new plan formed in his mind.

“I’ll probably take you up on that diagnostic at the tavern, but I’m gonna hang around here for a while first. I just wanna make sure that everyone’s ok before leaving them. I won’t be long, so don’t wait for me,” Ralf said, trying to appear confident. Without waiting for a response, Ralf began to move towards the villagers, beginning his preparations to both assess the village folk, and search for any nearby alchemical ingredients he might need to fix their woes.

irlVector · Jun 11, 2025

Theryn
Sheet | Human

Megilagor

Theryn eyed Sylvia with cautious, patient consideration, absorbing the Dryad’s hostile words with an outward tranquility that belied the quiet ripple of hurt beneath the surface. She’d heard similar judgments before—Synthos tech purists labeling her tools mere junk, examiners dismissing her ingenuity in favor of traditional Essence cultivators. Always underestimated, always doubted, her whole life had been an exercise in proving others wrong. Sylvia, wrapped in her prideful disdain, was just another obstacle on a familiar road.

Still, Theryn forced herself to remain calm, keeping her tone even and devoid of hostility as she addressed the Dryad’s biting words. "You wouldn’t be the first to underestimate me," Theryn said dryly, voice tinged with weary humor. "Let's be honest—I certainly wasn't granted an easy path.” A brief smile flashed across her lips, more self-deprecating than bitter. "Yet the Guild invited me too—and I trust their judgment at least a little. Hopefully, you will too, eventually."

When two bright eyes and a friendly wink from Lily offered a softer, more welcoming greeting, Theryn returned the kindness with a small nod of appreciation. "Thanks for the explanation, Lily. I got it—clear a dangerous dungeon, find five folks we don’t even know, rescue some scared villagers, save the day. Just a typical Guild morning, apparently," she quipped, her deadpan humor hopefully not lost on the foxkin.

Any further elaboration, however, was interrupted by the entrance of Vulpus himself. Theryn instantly recognized his status; her eyes widened, a flush of reverential awe quickly covered by disciplined composure. She absorbed every word the S-rank archaeologist spoke, noting the subtle reprimand towards Sylvia. The tokens he produced and the blunt instruction to either brave the dungeon as a team or withdraw together carried heavy finality—a confirmation that retreat wasn't an option for anyone serious about joining the Guild’s ranks.

As Vulpus exited, Theryn’s hand drifted instinctively to the hidden cube beneath her coat. Its subtle, comforting pulse resonated faintly, reassuring her that she wasn't entirely alone in this confrontation. Sylvia, Lily, herself—all three drawn together precisely by Guild design, whatever the reason was.

Of course, Sylvia's heated embarrassment following Vulpus’ rebuff did not go unnoticed by Theryn. Her words, after the man had left, posed a careful, diplomatic step toward reconciliation. "Look, we all want to prove ourselves—I get that," she said softly, tilting her head slightly. "But we’re in this together, like it or not. If we’re gonna take down a real dungeon, I'm going to lean on your Essence mastery, Sylvia; your connection to Nature Essence clearly dwarfs mine, and we're stronger balancing each other out."

She then turned toward Lily with an encouraging nod, "And I'll be counting on your optimism too. You're right, by the way—better here now, with Guild backup nearby, than tossed into the wilderness to fend for ourselves." She paused, the smallest hint of a smile forming on her face. "I've studied relics and ancient constructs my entire life—trust me when I say our different skills can complement each other perfectly. We’re not doomed but... diversified.

Taking a deep breath, she scooped up the bag of rune tokens Vulpus had dropped, holding the objects out like a peace offering to her teammates. "Besides, the Guild values strength, sure, but it values adaptability, quick thinking, and resourcefulness just as heavily—qualities I believe I have honed well enough to definitively put to the test during this mission. Don't you think the same of yourselves?"

Thanny · Jun 11, 2025

Azukai said:
Mentions: Thanny ThatWhichShouldBe

The tavern had undergone a significant change since the erection of the barrier. Any traces of the vines, roots, and flowers had vanished from the floors and walls, though physical damage, such as the hole in the floor, remained. Still, there wasn't anything of particular interest left in the room. Helen remained unconscious on the floor. And like before, the hole led down to the kitchen, where an open hatch was now visible in the wood floorboards. From the second floor, the depths of the hatch were too dark to see into, but nothing appeared immediately threatening, nor did it offer any immediate clues about Sylvia's whereabouts.

Moments later, a member of the fox-clan rose from the depths below--a sack of fruits, meats, and vegetables slung across his back. Upon spotting Hoyun and Licht hovering above him, he offered a cheerful wave and called out with a quick slew of directives. "Please be cautious around that hole. The floor may be unstable. I urge you to come down to the tavern floor, where we shall prepare a feast of celebration for your success."

Sure enough, more clan members soon funneled into the kitchen, either through the door or from the cellar below, bringing additional supplies to add to the growing culinary mix.

- Licht Coriander - in the tavern's aftermath - searching for Sylvia -

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ThatWhichShouldBe

The beastman within the tavern was confused by the rapid shift of things. Plant matter slunk and faded away into the proper form of a tavern as if it were the mossy surface of a boulder giving way to plain rock. Suspicious, he glanced down the hole, finding that it led down to the wooden floor of the kitchen with that mysterious hatch left open. There, he thought to himself with a level of confidence, only to have it crushed by seeing a masked individual who appeared to have no insight to the matter of the missing girl. The man was jovial, kind -- certainly kinder than whatever owned the voice of the controlled -- but he felt a burning spark rise up through his throat and into his cheeks and temper.

"Licht is sorry, but Licht does not understand!" he shouted back down, his ears pinned back in agitation. "Sylvia. Sylvia! What happened to the dryad girl? Did this one see her down in the stairs you came from? She is missing."

Others came from the floor after the mysterious man, equally enshrouded in a strange air. Licht sheathed his weapon back inside his clothing and fell forward, landing inside the hole with catlike grace in a bound, but his face showed something less than refined: tears.

"Please," he begged, "if that was part of the act, let me know. Licht cannot lose someone again so soon."

The hatch to the basement still concerned him, attracting his eye, mysterious in its purpose. It might have led to a root cellar, meant to store foodstuffs in a cold, moist environment after harvest, but the way it was used made him ponder if it was an escape route turned ingress. Something informed him that he should continue his search for Sylvia there, but he would listen to the stranger's response to his questions first.

ThatWhichShouldBe · Jun 12, 2025

Azukai
Hoyun's stance barely shifts, his body tensing like a drawn bow. He places his strength into his feet. He aligns his soul to the beat of his heart's drum. The qi around his body reaches a fever pitch, its flow shifting and fluid so as to avoid easy prediction of his movements. This isn't right. None of this is right. Because the man was masked, he was far too jovial for the circumstances- and he made no mention of Sylvia. Even if Sylvia was but a construct- a thing to be inserted into the test, the Test-makers would mention this. After all, what Guild would want its wanderers to be so callous about the life of one of their own, just after testing their response to a comrade being threatened?

He doesn't even respond to the figure, just eyeing them carefully... as he steps forward and opens the hatch to the basement.

Megilagor · Jun 17, 2025

Lily Zenko
<Scroll Box Below>

"You have no other choice, Sylvi. Once sorted into teams, we are stuck with them for the test." Lily said after a long and heavy sigh, not even a second later, Vulpus Aldor entered their tent, at this sight Lily quickly went down on one knee with her head bowed down. A sign of respect from her tribe, not that people outside of the tribe didn't have their own meaning for this, but to her, it showed respect, respect one has to someone stronger than them.

Hearing Theryn's response to hers, a rather simple explanation with a rather humorous one, a smile grew on Lily's face, so she responded. "Well, someone has some sense of humor here. I like ya' did I tell you that. Without humor, one rarely can lift another's spirit."
Lily stood up once the tokens were given to them, and she walked up to Theryn, who now held the bag of rune tokens. "We were picked together for a reason. You presented one of many reasons beautifully. I might not be strong, but being swift, silent, and doing recon is my thing. And generally, being a nuisance to my enemy is what I do, a death by a thousand cuts, some say. But I am by far not the smartest one of us three, so one of you two should do the leading."
She spoke before taking one of the rune tokens from the bag.

Lily's speech example 45EAB8
Height: 5'7'' (~170cm)
Age: 20
Race: Fox Beastfolk
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EMIYAman · Jun 17, 2025

Cassiel Vaudrin
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