Fantasy World of Gea: The Greatest Adventure [IC] [CLOSED]

[Emperor Sagan]

Putting up the tents was hard work, but Petrocoles was used to heavy labor. Working all day at the quarry had seen him through many seasons, shaping his body into what it was now. Kesapoli was a thriving town, and it only grew grander as the years passed - and he was part of that. If he wasn't quarrying marble, he was helping flatten foundations, raise stone walls, and during times of being sick, helping the lady folk paint the houses in vibrant colors thanks to the abundance of precious mountain flowers. It was not only pottery they painted in bright colors, but their very homes, too.

As such, Petro found himself stalking around the perimeter, perhaps looking as if he was helping the watch, while the reality being that he was just looking for flowers. His special flowers he got during the parade were gone now, lost and damaged during the battle, but he suspected that there had to be some other flowers in the area. So far, he had collected very little, save for a curious golden flower with wide petals, a few small lavenders, and a wilting but not yet dead orange bulb. Not the best for dye, but they were pleasant to behold.

Sentry appeared and startled him slightly, for he was not expecting company. He stood from the grass and shook her offered hand, wondering what he should say to an actual, real honorable warrior.

"Um... good fighting today," he said, perhaps more timid than he intended.

 

[Breadman]

"Very." Sentry gave a short response to the bull in front of her. The situation was by no means tense, but she was still unsure of what to tell him. A quick glance to the ground where he stood made her raise an eyebrow. Was he picking flowers? "Did I interrupt your work?" She asked now a bit curious about what he was doing.

 

[Emperor Sagan]

"Work? Huh? Oh... no, I'm just, uh...." Petro examined the flowers in his hands like he had never seen them before. The warriors back home usually kept to their own little clubs, so as it so happened, he didn't really know how to speak with actual knights and veteran warriors. "I'm just examining the colors. My grandmother makes dye and pottery. A lot of the, uh, flowers here are different from the ones back home."

He held up the orange, wide petal flower. "This one is very smooth and would be easy to make into a dye by itself with water, after you grind it down. Easy to apply to clothing, but it can fade."

 

[EdwardDewey98]

He joined the game as showed an overly serious expression as he drew his hand.

Zen sat comfortably on a stool while looking at the poker table. The other players were a rather cute Eranoiran warrioress, an Eranoiran archer, and a Brannorian warrior. There was also another Eranoiran, a half-Myrkálfar lad with light-blue skin and pale eyes. It was rather funny how they were playing a game of Dvergr Poker without any actual Dvergr in the table. "So... you joining the table, monseigneur Zen?" asked the lady warrior. "Heh, help yourself friend... Here's your hand. Wanna start by betting some gold?" said the half-Myrkálfar while handing Zen his cards. His rivals were as serious as he was, with the exception of the Brannorian warrior who had a big smile on his face at all times. "Good drinks, good friends, and the smell of good food in the air. This will be a good game... We just need more pretty maidens here." said the Brannorian while studying his cards. The Eranoiran warrioress chuckled and nodded along. "I agree, actually. Wouldn't mind some fair ladies around me right now."

As the game went on and a few more bets were made. The Brannorian warrior let out a loud chuckle as he revealed his hand. "Read them and weep, lads and lasses. Three of a Kind." he said while revealing his cards. "Merde..." said the lady warrior, as she pushes the ten denari to the center of the table. (1d20 = 16 | Zen wins.) But as the Brannorian warrior was about to grab his silver, Zen raised his hand and revealed his cards. A Queen of Axes, and various other cards. All Axes. "Heh, bird boy here has a Flush." said the half-Myrkálfar while pushing the thirty silver coins towards Zen. "Hah! Get fucked, Theodoric." said the Eranoiran archer. "Go eat a frog Karl, you Eranoiran dog... But hey, good game crow lad. Wanna play again?" asked the Brannorian man, while putting down ten more denari on the table.

"I... I wanted to thank you for taking my side earlier."

The company members raised their heads and looked at Gsera as she thanked them. "Eh, you are welcome lass... You were right about it, but nothing can be done." said the veteran warrior before continuing drinking his mug of beer. "Aye, gotta agree though. It's best if we don't see what that thing does, and as long as it listens to lady Cécilia, I'm fine with it." said another warrior who was reading a book.


As the company continued singing and awaiting for the dwarven stew, some were listening closely to a warrior that was speaking about the earlier fight. "...and then me and the others arrive to see around forty dead bandits scattered about the field, and none of them in the main party were dead. Very impressive stuff. Reminds me of one time I was serving one of them independent cities near Tyrol as a mercenary. Me and fourteen other lads were patrolling the alps until we were ambushed by a tribe of southern Orks, 'bout fifty green skins surrounding us and ready to butcher us all." The mans ability to captivate his fellow adventurers does not go unnoticed, and soon enough everyone was listening to this veteran warrior. "We managed to fight them off, killing about thirty southern Orks. I don't like boasting, I really don't, but I took down like 14 of them m'self." He looked down at his mug of beer. "Alas, only difference in this case is that I lost three buddies in that fight, plus the two veteran guards from the independent cities."

The adventurer then looked around the campfire for members of the main party, noticing Syll at first glance, but he noticed a few others as well. "Defeating a small raiding party without losing a single soul ain't no easy feat, even if said party consists of either man or ork." The warrior then lifted his mug of beer, some of its contents spilling on the earth. "So I drink in your name, leading team!" The other members of the company nodded and cheered along, taking a few drinks as well. Once done drinking, a younger adventurer then looked at the talkative veteran with a few questions. "So uhm... Royland, ever been to our next destination?" The veteran adventurer nodded. "Aye... Waterham, or as the Hobs call it... The Free City of Waterham. Nice place, really tidy and properly managed unlike some Eranoiran cities... too bad that the Hobs are rampant dickheads." he said, with a smirk on his face. "They are rude bastards and they really don't like humans. Especially Brannorians."

"Why Brannorians? I am Brannorian!" said the younger adventurer. "Why? Because of old history. There's an old saying about forgiving but never forgetting in the south... Well, Hobs don't forgive and they don't forget. The old Brannorians, back when they were just an off-shoot of the Skaeglins, raided the Hobs nearly every month. One day some Hob that had studied in the Southern Martorian Empire came in and erected a huge wall around the city. It made Waterham pretty much untakeable." Meanwhile, Cécilia listened closely as the adventurer continued explaining his knowledge about Waterham, which she did find useful since she had never visited the city in the first place. But as she goes back to her drawing and writing, she notices Grunde still resting in their jar. "...Hmm, feeling any better friend?" she asks while pulling out a bottle of mana from her bag. "Are you hungry? You know... if something troubles you, you can tell me, right?"

Alberto overheard Cécilia trying to talk with Grunde, and the old man sighed as he thought of something. Cécilia's caring nature reminded him of how his wife used to spoil their oldest son. But he decided to not think too much about it. He then looked about the campfire until he noticed Callop sitting next to a sleeping Fauxs. Without getting off the tree stump he attempted to talk with the young boy. "You got yourself a friend for life, eh? A kid and his dog, an iconic duo." he said, with a genuine smile. "...Captain Védevel told me why he wanted you to march with us, and I agreed with him. You've got a lot of potential, kid."


Meanwhile, a fighter awkwardly walks throughout the campsite, looking for a frog. Not just any frog, but rather Korzhev who was near the campsite. Looking for herbs as usual. "H-hey... uhm... m-master frog, I am sorry to interrupt... w-whatever that you are doing right now but... I have to ask you something." The old frog turned around to look at the fighter, who seemed to be a Brannorian. "I am... not feeling so well. I don't know if it's because of a sickness or... the spirits might be angry with me. My stomach hurts a lot... but I also feel drained and weak. I was wondering... if you might have a herb to help me? Or maybe... since you are a shaman, see if the ancestors are angry with me?" The adventurer then revealed a necklace that was hidden under his gambeson. It was a strange pagan symbol that resambled a crow or bird. "D-don't worry, I am not a follower of Gaia. I am part of the Widkuntha. I believe in the spirits and ancestors... a-and nearly all the Gods."

 

[Develius]

Cécilia's mindset, alongside several of the other company leaders, seemed more inline with the holy cleric; formulating a sense of balance regarding two parties. Gawain would still utilize his magic, however not to the point that he would make the others in the party. Dakarai believed it was an acceptable compromise. The skeletal necromancer thanked for her understanding his side, however Gsera seemed rather discouraged from their decision. She would back down without any further remarks. The Sobekan nodded silently in agreement and would proceed to continue getting back to work.


Working alongside Sentry and Petrocoles, Dakarai assisted in setting up the tents without complaint. His time back in the army has made him well-acquainted to long hours of heavy labor, especially with carrying supplies and hauling resources for camp. After he completed his duties, the holy Sobekan proceeded to kneel and issue a quick prayer towards Her Grace. He murmured quietly to himself, sounding almost like an inaudible guttural grumble that emitted from his throat. He prayed for Sobek'nia's - Praise be Her Grace's - forgiveness and favor, wondering what sin he might've unintentionally resulted in his blunders in the last battle. While he personally believed it wasn't something of heretical value, he still wanted Her Grace to recognize once more how he intended nothing troublesome. This would go on for roughly five minutes before Dakarai finally rose and left the tent.

He'd smell soup being prepared by the dwarves outside, as his stomach grumbled audibly. Saadah, who happened to be nearby, whimpered softly as her rider planted his scaled hand upon her nose. "Hungry too?" the cleric asked. Saadah exhaled as she seemed to bob her head up and down, as if she was confirming. Dakarai went around her left side as he plucked the sack off her back and pulled out a small melon. The creature grew more excited as she was presented with the fruit. She sniffed it before plucking it from the cleric's grasp and crunched through it' hard skin to reveal the orange flesh within. Dakarai patted her side before leaving her with the snack. He then reached into the sack to take a bite out of two large sticks of beef jerky as he sat around the campfire. It would be enough to buy his hunger some time before the main dish was ready.

 

[Dmaster]

Gawain passively listened to the conversations going on around him as he continued to gradually let the flames soak deeper along his skin, eventually drawing his limb out from the bonfire and flicking his wrist with a snap of his fingers to disperse them entirely. Now that he was out of the fire he examined his arm for any damage, noting that while there were some burns that they appeared to be healing steadily, and he could not even feel the extent of the damage. "Intriguing! No pain whatsoever. Yet I still possess my sense of touch..." he says aloud, tilting his head as a finger scratches along the top of his skull.

"Hah. Just what am I now anyway?" the scholar asks openly, starting to roll down his sleeve so that the healing process may happen in private. For all of his understandings of undeath he wasn't exactly certain what he had become after his encounter with that creature from beyond. Though as biting of a question this was it paled in comparison to what that particular creature was and how it came to be. Yet perhaps in understanding what he had become he could learn more about the creature in that regard. He had a thought to take a blade from one of the company members and chop off his limb next to see what might happen, but he decided not to do that on second thought.

 

[Infab]

Devereaux's time after the camp had been set up was mostly spent playing his lute and singing songs to himself or others that chose to come sit by him. Most of them were his personal favorites, but sometimes he'd sing an Eranoiran or Brannorian folk song. The one he was currently singing to a few others that had stopped by was a Brannorian favorite. An old one, but still a favorite even for himself. Eventually, he finished, giving the onlookers a fancy bow. Then, he glanced about. Everyone seemed to be doing alright now, after the battle before and the incident afterwards regarding the morality of Gawain's skeletal minions. Thankfully, it didn't escalate any more than it did. As his gaze met Paulin's, he gave the boy a cute little wave of his fingers from afar before patting the spot next to him with his hand. He'd certainly enjoy the company.

Afterwards, he continued looking about until his gaze met Cécilia, whom was attempting to talk to and coax out Grunde. "...He's quite a shy one, isn't he?" said Devy, tilting his head slightly as he set his lute down next to him. He likely didn't like what happened earlier either, Devy thought.

 

[Breadman]

"It's very pretty." Sentry commented on the flower that Petro held up, something about it made her blink twice rapidly "I'm familiar with some flowers..." She said a bit unsure she was actually recalling correctly, but the images in her mind seemed vivid enough "The girls in my village liked to put them in their hair. Some priests I knew used them to paint their faces when they performed their rituals and the rich liked to do the same for fashion." She scratched her chin with a finger as she recalled more

"There was a celebration in the middle of spring, when the moon was full and the snow had long retreated. Lover's moon, we called it. The color of the the Moon's face reflected that of his love's color, the Sun. And under his bright eyes, the nigh bells grew, their purple and red colors almost glowing in his light. Young men would rush to get to them before the night was out and bring it to their heart's desire in the morn." She realized she was getting into a different territory "I'm sorry...I may not look it, but I guess I have the habit of going off like an old maid anyway."

 

[Ace Cream]

Zen

"AHAHAHAHAHA!" An unrestrained laughter escaped Zen's mouth as he scooped his reward. No, he wasn't laughing because he won some money, he laughed because he won. It might just be a game but it scratches the competitive itch Zen had all this time.

"Back in my homeland I was called the master of games. Hah. Come, let's play again!" He was getting a bit cocky and challenged the other players to increase the bet while grinning mischievously. "Don't worry, if I win I will use the money to buy some good drinks for next time."

EdwardDewey98

 

[FloweryMuffin]

He would have definitely stopped by the campfire to listen to the other members of the company sing and soak up the campfire’s heat, but he found that that spot in the crowd was just a smidge too warm for his tastes. Thus, Korzhev left for a little stroll not too far off from the campsite, in search for a few herbs he hadn’t found back in the city, namely mint and yarrow. Just as he was tying up a small bundle of herbs to his staff to dry, he saw the fighter approach him, looking slightly embarrassed. He outright laughed as he listened to the request the man stammered out.

“A most great evening to you as well, sir? Why, I must have you know, I am no master of anything! I am but an old wandering shaman of a faraway tribe! As for my pastimes, well,” he gestured towards the mint tied to his staff, “you might say that I am restocking! Well, I believe these should also help you! Ah, take a seat, lad, ah, over there! Yes, now stay put for a moment, I’ll return shortly!”

Korzhev ran back to the camp, in search of a mug and boiling water. Much to the strange fighter’s dismay, the frogman took his time with preparing the brew, having had to boil the water himself. He showed the fighter the cup, filled to the brim with water in which a few mint leaves were floating. “Now, you seem to be riddled with problems, my friend! Well, we shall go through them one at a time!” as he spoke, he eyed the bird-shaped pendant. “You might want to explain yourself, what it is that sets your obscure cult apart from the rest. Oh, should I be elated Gaia is not your favoured God? My, a strange cult these ones are! Their rituals too, they’d lined up their followers, the priests I mean, on the day we left for this expedition and threw water at them for good luck! Ah, you do not strike me as a follower of our pantheon. At all.” He threw some yarrow into the infusion as well, along with one Blood Leaf.

He passed it over to the man. “So, the mint and yarrow should ease the stomach pains and that Leaf well, it’s used in health potions I hear, but it might just relieve your fatigue. You might want to down that quickly, lad, it is terribly bitter! You better pray you’ve upset no deities while you do.”

 

[Emperor Sagan]

Petrocoles chuckled nervously. "Ah, that is okay. I do not mind stories. These flowers you speak of, these purples and reds, I don't believe I have seen anything like those around my home. Some flowers only grow in very small places, like in the shade of a certain tree, or in a quarry pit, in the darkness." The minotavur plucked one of the smaller blue flowers from the limited bundle he clutched, and held it over to Sentry. "Here. These little blue ones are lighter than the ones back home, but very common. It is good luck to trade them, or so we said as children."

 

[Breadman]

"Ah..thank you." She picked up the flower Petrocoles gave her. "I'm afraid I don't have anything to give back right now...but I can maybe figure something else in return." She was quiet for a few moments as she examined the flower in her hand. Common or no, it looked delicate like most others. With a bit of care, it could serve as decoration. "Where exactly do you come from?" Sentry broke the silence "I don't think I've been to your kin's lands in a long time."

 

[Roda the Red]

Idly sitting and relaxing had a good effect on the chest pain, which calmed down quite a bit after thirty minutes or so, yet it was equally as boring, so Syll decided it was about time to stand up and perform a little bit more of that socializing people like doing so much. He saw a group of fighters playing cards with Zen, the little fellow seemed like he was having a lot of fun. Sadly the elf had absolutely atrocious luck with card games, which actually made him pretty well liked as game company at his mothers inn for the regulars with a liking to winning, so he decided it was best to leave them be and avoid himself the humiliation.

Eventually his gaze was met with the prescense of the Devy, Grunde and Cecilia, and upon thinking on it, he hasn't really talked to his employer directly until now, and he had a specific question to ask her. He thought it was only proper to talk to them at the moment, so he walked closer and took a seat next to Devy. "Lovely night we're having, isn't it?" said Syll as he bowed lightly as a greeting "i hope i'm not intruding here, just felt like having a talk is all. He then looked at Cecilia whose attention was mostly on Grunde. "Umm, excuse me Ms. Cecilia, i know that we are headed to Waterham at the moment, but could you tell me if we are supposed to go to Ællgan at any point after that?".

 

[joshuadim]

While originally Gsera had been confident that she would be able to garner some help from those who viewed the skeletal thralls the same way she did, their reluctance to do anything about it and their general acceptance in defeat stopped her in her tracks and she quickly froze in place as it became apparent that it would be unlikely she would be able to get any help whatsoever. It was an awkward position to be sure, and she felt the full brunt of her own anxiety now flood in as she tried to figure out what to do next as she awkwardly stood near their campfire. "Yes... well... ahem, I should uhm... be going?" she then said with a nervous chuckle as she quickly backed away and rushed off elsewhere into the camp.

Stupid! This whole idea was stupid! she thought to herself as she paced herself around the camp, How could they just... accept this kind of foul presence? I don't understand! Maybe I should just do it myself... She continued walking before seeing the two skeletons that the reprehensible undead had raised and felt sick by just seeing them. There they are... she then thought as she took a few steps towards them before stopping herself in her tracks. Sure, she could be able to dismantle them and purify the remains to free them of their thralldom... but she also considered how such a thing could be received by those around her. She particularly didn't want to lose the friendships she had managed to make so far, and yet the pull of her own convictions made it hard to ignore the crime of the defiled reanimated bones stand before her.

And so, instead of facing this difficult decision she decided to run away from it as always as she quickly walked off and headed for a nearby tree to climb up and take refuge in. Atop its branches she simply looked up at the sky and sulked to herself.

 

[Auda]

Grunde had never felt tired before. Sure, it felt weak and needed rest when using up most of its magic on certain occasions, but the feeling of your mind giving up and forcing your body to stay down, it's a foreign experience. Soon, the slime fell asleep inside the jar and the fates seemed to take pity on it for it dreamed of an endless adventure not stained with blood. Grunde didn't wake up for quite some time. Long bouts of sleep were quite rare for the slime, but the recent situation may be the reason why. Although it's not occupying most of the slime's mind anymore, something in it's stomach still doesn't feel right. Still, it felt marginally better than before and the ambience of the the camp did help. Everyone seemed content, happy even, as members of the company shared stories and the night never silent as a song is always playing at the back. Laughs and smiles were contagious and being surrounded by many will surely pick anyone up.

"...Hmm, feeling any better friend?" she asks while pulling out a bottle of mana from her bag. "Are you hungry? You know... if something troubles you, you can tell me, right?"

Cécilia's words, or just the sound of her voice, were enough to further soothe Grunde. The slime then left its jar to feel the cool breeze hit its face and the once muffled sound of the camp were now in full blast. It reached out its hand to grab hold of the mana potion and started to take sips. Cécilia seemed to know what to do in every situation concerning the Grunde, and the slime very much appreciated it. "I'm okay. Thank you." Grunde replied in between sips. While the mana potion comforted the slime, it also felt like a promise from Cécilia. A promise that whatever may happen, at the end of the day she'll be there. Everything will be alright.

"...He's quite a shy one, isn't he?"

Grunde then turned its head towards Devereaux and offered him a quick hello. The only interaction it can remember having with the bard were at the start of the adventure when exchanging pleasantries, but his tune seemed to follow Grunde around. Even his most recent song, which the slime enjoyed, will be stuck inside its head for quite some time. There are other ways to know a person other than talking to them after all. With Devy, Grunde can feel itself getting closer to the bard with every chord he plays for the party. "I really like your voice." Grunde is sure the bard has heard the praise multiple times by now, but it doesn't make it less true. Maybe Grunde could ask him or Kastalli to teach it some kind of instrument, though it may be hard to find something that can be played without its goo getting in the way.

"Lovely night we're having, isn't it?"

Giving Syllannan a worried look, Grunde checked his condition. Syll was the only one that was gravely injured earlier in the fight, whether that was a good thing or not, the slime doesn't want to think about it any further. "Are you okay?" Grunde asked Syll while pointing at his injured chest, The slime had never broken a bone before, an advantage of having none in the first place, but it could imagine how painful it must feel.

 

[Fauxs]

As the company faced the cold, night sky, they decided to set up camp to finish off a few errands such as dealing with the bandits and tending to the wounds of the injured. Callop sat next to Fauxs in the campfire, enjoying the warmth it provided. Due to such a relaxing feeling, Fauxs ended up nodding off with his head resting on Callop’s lap. The boy was still surprised as to what he saw on the battlefield as it was the first time Fauxs did something like that. It wasn’t completely a bad thing but it was just… unexpected.

"You got yourself a friend for life, eh? A kid and his dog, an iconic duo." he said, with a genuine smile. "...Captain Védevel told me why he wanted you to march with us, and I agreed with him. You've got a lot of potential, kid."

He then faced Ser Alberto as he spoke his mind. “A friend for life indeed, but I would like to know more about him…” he pondered as he sought to find answers but didn’t know who to ask yet. “I’m not exactly sure why the captain allowed me to join in the first place. I was not able to assist in our recent battle and I’m afraid I might just be a nuisance to everyone in the future…”

As much as Callop did not want to sound dull, he couldn't deny what he felt. “But there’s no need to worry about me! I’ll try harder next time!” he said in a louder tone which made the sleeping Fauxs move causing Callop to rest his hand on the creature's head.

 

[EdwardDewey98]

As the undead wizard pondered on the nature of his undeath, he noticed that a few of the members in the company were giving him odd looks. Mainly because he was charring his hand with such strange perversion. Gawain didn't care much for that, but as returned his attention to his hand, he could hear, or rather, feel something was talking. A voice echoing in the back of his thoughts that possessed the familiar roughness to Edgar's voice. "I... been thinking..." he said as Gawain couldn't help to wonder what sort of magic he was using at the moment.

"What if instead... of a strange creature from beyond the veils of our reality... you saw something far more greater than that?... Tell me, Gawain... will you continue your hopeless chase if what you've seen is... a God?" The undead sorcerer had an answer for any inquiry asked towards him but before he could answer this question, Edgar eagerly expressed his thoughts. "I cannot wait to see what awaits you once you meet a Magi. I can imagine what strange and esoteric answer they might have for your eldritch conundrum."


(1d20 +2 Lucky Win Bonus = 5.) Zen continued playing poker with Theodoric and the others, the Tengu started to notice that his cards were not exactly good at the moment. After each turn passed and the other players made their bets, Theodoric's smile grew in size. "Heh, alright... here y'all go! Four of a Kind!" said the Brannorian, while revealing his cards. The other two Eranoirans shook their heads and put their cards down. Zen looked down at his cards, he only had a flush. Defeated, the Tengu pushed his silver to the Brannorian's hands. "Aye, good game, really good game!" said Theodoric while counting his thirty silver. "But hey, good first match Zen. You got yourself twenty gold too."

"I'm okay. Thank you."

Meanwhile, Cécilia watched as Grunde emerged from their jar to feed from the mana potion, expressing that they were okay. "I'm very glad Grunde, really." She moved her jar close to the jar, gently poking her slime friend. "You know... it was weird at first, but poking you is becoming rathe-" Before she could continue, she was slightly startled by Devereaux who suddenly popped up in her view and commented on Grunde's shyness.

"...He's quite a shy one, isn't he?"

"They are quite shy, yes, but give them time and soon enough they'll be talking and asking a thousand questions." Cécilia gave the jester a friendly smile. "When I met them they were quite shy. But after sometime together, we talk to each other a lot now." Cécilia then looked down at the jar, giggling a bit as Grunde admitted that they liked Devy's voice. "I agree, friend. Devy does have a nice voice." As he was being complimented by Cécilia and Grunde, Devy noticed that Paulin was staring at him. When their eyes met, Paulin's face turned as red as Devy's clothes and turned away quickly. As Devy gazed at Paulin with a wolfish grin hidden under his mask. Both him and Cécilia noticed that Syll was approaching them. "Oh! I'm glad to see you are fine, my friend!" said Cécilia as the young half-Elf sat nearby.

Umm, excuse me Ms. Cecilia, I know that we are headed to Waterham at the moment, but could you tell me if we are supposed to go to Ællgan at any point after that?

Cécilia tilted her head a bit as the young man asked about Ællgan, one of the most important cities in Brannoria and home to the Sylverin Academy, one of the greatest magical academies in Helm. "Ællgan? Well, of course my friend! It is a very important city, and while I doubt we will meet Grandmaster Tew, I am sure we can get some important information from the Academy itself." She then got a bit closer to the half-Elf, wondering the nature of his question. "Is there something I need to know about you and Ællgan?"


Meanwhile by the camp's edge, the young warrior that had approached Korzhev gave him a respectful bow. "Thank you very much, master frog... I am glad that we have a God-Speaker among us. Someone connected with the spirits... I... I heard about you folk worshiping a giant celestial Frog? Maybe that giant Frog is one the Widkun's companions. The Old Man has many companions after all." The young man, realizing that he might bore the elderly frog with his theological ideas, shifted the topic. "I digress. Thank you again, master frog." The young man quickly left the old frog to continue with his search of herbs, although he had to think a bit about the foreigner's Gods some other day.

"I’m not exactly sure why the captain allowed me to join in the first place. I was not able to assist in our recent battle and I’m afraid I might just be a nuisance to everyone in the future…"

Alberto gave Callop a sincere smile again, as the boy pondered why the captain had allowed him into the company. "Because he identified with you, son." As Faux rested his head on Callop's head, the young boy noticed the Cú-Sidhe had opened its eyes and was now looking at Alberto with curiosity. "Captain Vedevel and I had a bit of a talk about you, and he told me that he allowed you to join us because he had been a wee-lad when he was recruited into the Eranoiran levy... He was an orphan like you." Alberto stops sharpening his blade for a moment, before looking at Callop. "I am sorry. I shouldn't assume you are an orphan... Still, Vedevel believes that you'll get to learn and grow in this company... Truth be told, I fought in many a war and I watched young boys like you marching alongside grizzled old veterans... so I agreed with him. You are in safe hands, my boy... We will take care of you, and with your trusty friend down there, you'll be safe... and you'll become STRONGER!"

Near the old knight and the young Tuatha was Kastalli, who was feeling rather talkative at the moment but wanted to wait until everyone was together near the bonfire to speak. Instead of roaming around the camp, she had helped the two Dvërgr prepare the massive pot of stew for the company. While the two men had taken a few minutes off to arm-wrestle with the rest of the company, Kastalli took the opportunity to study the stew a bit more. Since the Clan Dvërgr is in Skæn and shares a lot of its cultural recipes with the Skælings, she quickly recognized this soup as a Ärtsoppa -- a Yellow Pea Soup.

It contained dried peas, water, healthy amounts of salt, chopped up onions, and a few of herbs here and there. (1d20 = 20 | Critical Success.) While looking through the food stock she noticed a herb from the Far-East that her late husband told her about once and decided to add a small amount of it the stew. Now it had a stronger but pleasant and filling smell to it. When the two Dvërgr brothers came back, the noticed the difference and one of the two dwarves took a laddle and had a taste of it. (Skæn Language) "Hmm... hmmm... ah~ friherrinna Kasta, du gjorde ett underbart tillskott!" ("Hmm... hmm... ah~ lady Kasta, ye made a wonderful addition!")

But it was far from done. The two Dvërgr and Kastalli began working on the meat for the stew. Pork and lamb were the most common additions for this soup, and the Dvërgr decided for the later. After a few more minutes, the other Dvërgr took the laddle and had a taste of it. "Hmm... av den stora yxakungen och vandrarnas skägg! det här är otroligt... nästan som den som vår mormor brukar göra åt oss." ("Hmm... by the Great Axe King and the Wanderers beard, 'tis amazing... Almost like the one our ol' nan use to make for us.") The other dwarf then gently punched Kastalli's hip. "Med ett helt nytt tillskott som är! Hej, skulle du ha något emot att ringa din klocka fröken Kasta?" ("...With a brand new addition that is! Heh, would you mind ringing your bell miss Kasta?")

And just a few seconds after, Kastalli began ringing her bell for everyone to sit down by the bonfire and get ready to have dinner. Everyone who was in the camp or in its borders quickly joined the main group. Even those who were not exactly planning to join the dinner were forced to join it, such as Gsera who was noticed to be resting atop a tree and asked to come down by a particularly friendly group of fighters. Everyone walked up to the duo of dwarves, who then handed them a bowl full of soup and then everyone slowly gathered around the bonfire. "Enjoy yer meal friends!" shouted Hrongar, while serving a few more plates. "Especially you, tall woman." he said while handing a pewter bowl to Sentry. When Petro approached to get a bowl of soup, he had noticed that the others had chunks of lamb in theirs. He worried that he might had to eat meat this time, but luckily for him, Hroki, Hrongars brother, was aware that while Minotavurs can eat red meat, they do not find it pleasant. And so he prepared a separate bowl of soup for Petro only.

Everyone who had a taste of the soup was flabbergasted by it. It was a simple pea soup, but the mixtures of herbs and other condiments really make the flavors of the soup become stronger and delicious. It was so good that everyone that could eat it felt a bit more confident in their abilities. (+2 point bonus to all player-related rolls for 5 rolls. The exceptions to this are Gawain and Grunde.) "W-wow... this soup! it's amazing!" claimed Cécilia, while looking at the two dwarves. "Aye aye... we pride ourselves for being good cooks, but the extra punch this soup is carrying is all thanks to lady Kasta!" said Hroki, while pointing at Kastalli. Everyone in the company gave the hybrid woman a smile, and few clapped for her. "Good one, miss Kastalli!" said Paulin, while drinking his soup near the bard woman.

With everyone now together, new conversations can be made but a few continued with the ones they were having already.

 

[Ace Cream]

Zen

"N-noo, my cards... I can't call myself the master of games anymore." Zen regrettably scooped up the small amount he managed to acquire. He was overconfident! Being cocky in a game he only played once in a while. He would skulk in the corner for much longer if the delicious smell of the soup didn't entice him, but it did. He sat down near the bonfire and sniffed his soup. The smell... was somehow familiar?? It took a few sips of the soup until he realized what made the scent.

"KUSA!!" He shouted at himself upon the realization. It's one of the herbs used in the nanakusa festival, a small celebration in Shigese held in the 7th day of the spring for the harvest goddess. Everyone would cook a simple but pleasant soup to eat for the day. The seven herbs used in the soup would then be called the nanakusa herbs. One of it was used in this very soup, making the smell recognizable by Zen. It didn't take long for the tengu to empty his bowl.

Having his stomach full, Zen then approached the cooks to ask about the familiar smell on the soup but they told him about Kastalli adding some additional herbs into it. This made him shifted his attention to the feline woman and squinted his eyes at her. She didn't looks like Shigesan and definitely lacking the accent. Zen's mind racing with possibilities of Kastalli's real identity. Maybe his hunch during the first assembly was right! This kind-looking woman was actually an assassin!

Zen's silently blended into the shadow, out of the light provided by the bonfire. He sneaked around the campfire and made his way towards Kastalli. He poked her back to draw her attention.

"Miss Kastalli, mind joining me for a stroll? I need to ask something." Zen asked her in a careful tone. He wanted to isolate her from the others so he would be able to extract the truth.

Beann

 

[Beann]

Looking around at the camp, Kastalli couldn't help but smile at the buzzing sound of all the lively conversations going on at once. She honestly couldn't decide what to do, there were so many people she wanted to speak with! Her concern for Syllannan grew as she watched him exit a tent and sit by the campfire in silence, she considered him as a friend and wanted to check in on him. However, she was also tempted by the soft strumming of Devereaux's lute, wanting nothing more than to join in and learn the song he was currently singing. There was also Gawain, who earned a look of concern as she watched him stick his hand in the fire and held it there without so much as a yelp in pain. Intimidating as he appeared to be, she admittedly was a bit curious about that one. Similarly, she wanted to strike a conversation with Dakarai, curious to hear about his culture and religion - and the beast he mounted in battle. There were so many others she wanted to converse with but it was impossible to find a starting point and it would take her all night!

Instead, she settled on showing her gratitude for the group by helping out with the meal that was being prepared. It was a massive pot of stew which was definitely needed to feed this many mouths. As she watched the two Dvërgr rush off to arm-wrestle, she lifted the ladle and sniffed its contents. Her eyes widened in surprise at the familiar smell, why, it was Ärtsoppa! There was no mistake as she clearly remembered the dish her mother used to make when the winter was particularly harsh or when she felt sick. Upon remembering though, she also remembered it was the same stew she had cooked her late husband during his recovery when he first got injured. However, it was missing something...what was it again? Kastalli could distinctly remember Saito pulling out a particular herb from one of his various pouches - ah, what did it look like again? She found herself wandering around the food stock, aimlessly looking around as she tried her best to recollect that memory. Oh -! This one looks familiar...smells familiar too! Without a second thought, she threw a handful of it in the pot and stirred.

As the two Dvërgr returned, her tail swayed a bit anxiously as she watched one taste the modified stew. Her ear twitched slightly as they spoke in their native tongue. Ah, it had been a while since she spoke in that tongue. Hopefully, she wasn't too rusty. "Det gläder mig att höra det, det var min mans favorit." ("I am pleased to hear that, it was my husband's favorite"). She offered the dwarf that punched her lightly a smile before nodding and raising her bell. With a light chime, she called out to the rest of the group. "Everyone, please gather around! The soup is just about finished!"

Kastalli waited for everyone else to be served before helping herself to a bowl of the soup. She savored the meal as best she could in silence but it would seem almost everyone had enjoyed the dish greatly as they threw compliments in her direction. Well, it couldn't be helped. She simply nodded and smiled towards a few before allowing herself to finish her own serving.

A few moments later, she straightened her back in surprise as she felt a poke from behind. Turning to see, she relaxed a bit at the sight of Zen. She tilted her head at his request but thought nothing of it. "Of course." With a smile, she rose to her feet and followed then Tengu away from the rest of the company. "What were you playing earlier? With the cards? Everyone seemed to be enjoying themselves."

Ace Cream

 

[Ace Cream]

Zen

"Cards? Ah, the poker. It's a common card game in Eranorian. Not important now." Zen led Kastalli towards a small clearing next to a river. The tengu looked at the moon's reflection on the surface and smirked, now if things gone awry and ended up in bloodspill he could just dump her on the river. Perfect.

"Miss Kastalli, are you actually from Shigese?" Zen asked in shigesan language while cautiously watching her expression. If she didn't or couldn't answer the question then he would repeat the same question, but in Eranoiran language.

Beann

 

[Beann]

"Poker…" Kastalli hummed in thought about the card game despite Zen saying it wasn't important. Perhaps once they reach Waterham would she be able to learn how to play from the Tengu or someone else. She paid no mind to her surroundings, the only thing that stood out to her was the river and how the reflection of the moon looked beautiful against the still water. It was quite peaceful and she wouldn't mind having a casual conversation with Zen if that's what he so desired.

Her head tilted as he spoke a different tongue. It was...vaguely familiar. Saito had tried teaching her a bit of his culture, including his language but she wasn't very proficient in it given how she hardly used it. She paused for a moment, trying to pick out the context clues that were given while stringing the right words as a response. Kastalli did not want to offend Zen by speaking improperly but it was inevitable. "Tadashiku arimasen. Skæg. Otto shigese." ("incorrect. Skæg. husband Shigese."). She offered the Tengu a small smile, scratching the back of her neck as she continued in Eranoiran, "sorry, I am not very proficient in your tongue. It has been a long time since I practiced."

Ace Cream

 

[Ace Cream]

Zen

"Hmm... is it?" Zen let out a brief response to probe her further. She said her husband was the one who's from Shigese, but Zen wouldn't just believe her right away! "If your husband is from Shigese, then where is he right now?"

Ah, yes. The husband hide while telling his wife to lure the target and then they would ambush him together. Truly a sinister and elaborate plan! As expected of Kuroyasha! Zen's hand slipped inside his jacket and touched one of his kunai. The moment the husband jumped out of any shadow he would be ready to stab his throat!

Beann

 

[Beann]

Kastalli wasn't quite sure how to respond to his initial question. She was telling the truth - it had been years since she had practiced. Why did he wish to confirm anyways? It wasn't like she could prove her lack of studies other than her poor speech. "Well...yes...it has been a few years - huh?" Zen pressed on with another question, this time directed at her late husband. Immediately, her soft expression vanished and her gaze fell to the ground. "He is in Skæg." Along with her gaze, her tail drooped to the ground as well, as an indication of her current mood. "That is where he is buried." She spoke in almost a whisper before turning away from Zen.

"Truthfully, I did look forward to speaking with you Zen. However, if you are only here to press on about my late husband, then I wish to return to the group." Kastalli paused for a moment, glancing back at Zen as her eyes shifted to his jacket. While her husband had taught her about his language and unique foods, he had taught her a couple tricks that he picked up in his training. One being that skilled people from Shigese very much preferred stealth and concealed weapons. Almost everyone was wary of everyone and it even took Saito quite a bit to relax in her own village given his training and upbringings. "Are we done speaking?"

Ace Cream

 

[Ace Cream]

Zen

"Ah, yes. So he is now in Skae- wait what??" Zen was busy paying attention at his peripheral vision that Kastalli's reply caught him off-guard. He definitely didn't expect the answer to be like this. If that's true then he had been probing a widow about her husband just so he could have a peace of mind, which was not cool even for him. No honor in doing something like that. Kastalli's solemn expression made his stomach dropped even further as his killing intent vanished, replaced with guilt and embarassment.

"I-I..." Zen was at loss of words, what should he say now? He wasn't the best with talking. Heck, people usually thought of him as blunt and dense, only attentive to something that was relevant to himself. It took him a few more seconds before he could let out another words.

"I apologize..." With that said, Zen couldn't bear himself anymore. He spread his wings and flew away from Kastalli, from everyone. He found a half-burnt tree somewhere and spent his time scratching and pecking it to vent his frustation.

"Zen you stupid bird!!!"

Beann

 

[Emperor Sagan]

Petro tried sipping on his soup, but it proved too good, so he simply drank it down in a few hearty gulps. It wasn't unusual for him to have a large appetite, but after the battle he hadn't realized just how peckish he was. How lucky they were to have such talented and skilled members to make such a delightful soup!

Sitting beside Sentry, Petro cleared his throat and spoke on about his home to her as she had asked. "My tribe is... well, a mix of tribes, I suppose. Kesapoli is a foothills town with a long history. There is a lot of quarrying there, and the land is good for select crops and herding on the soft slopes. Mostly, there are rich earthen materials - clay and marble, and of course, the dyes we grow for the pottery and clothes. Most of my kind live much further away, and while we are still quite far from my home... it was not so hard a journey here as it would have been otherwise. What of you, ma'am, is your home near here? I do not know much of the human tribes, or nations, I think is what you call them?"