The Seed of Life

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While Charlie raced off, Wyn shook her head, frowning softly in thought. How many more times, she wondered, would they be brought to a place of fear as they had been that day? How many more times would they get so lucky, and lose no one? She had begun this journey alone, but now she had far too much to lose. Instinct, which resembled her mother's voice far too closely, told her to abandon hope and return home... But she couldn't now. She couldn't abandon their quest and she could not abandon the people she had come to love, so dearly.

Feeling a subtle heat crawl up her neck, she turned to find Hal's eyes on her and a small smile formed on her lips as she met his gaze. In the chaos, she had not forgotten the affliction that had appeared overnight, but something in the small miracle of everyone making it aboard had lessened her concerns for a moment. They would talk, but for a few seconds she could enjoy the notion that they were all safe and relatively sound.

Her eyes shifted across the room to their orc companion and crossing to Tza, Wyn reached out to rest a hand on her arm, "I don't know what happened out there... but thank you, for bringing Charlie back... I know he doesn't believe it, but I'm pretty sure he's part of why we're all still here, and I don't know what I'd do if he weren't anymore... Here, that is."


The orc looked at Wyn with an almost perplexed look at first as the Sur expressed her gratitude.

She somewhat softened.

"Hm. It was no hardship to do so. He did most of his own legwork. Obviously," she grumbled in her usual rasp, gesturing sardonically to her leg.

Looking down, Wyn frowned at the injury, before holding up her own wrist with a small, dry chuckle, "...We're all falling apart, it would seem."

Biting her lip, Wyn sank down into the seat beside the orc, lowering her gaze for a moment, before looking up, "...Could... could I ask you something? It's rather strange, but you seem so knowledgeable."

The orc gave Wyn a look, but there was ever so slightly the hint of a smile at the edge of her lips. She couldn't deny that she enjoyed receiving questions. Perhaps it was an orc trait, the need to be recognized as intelligent.

"Proceed," the orc said, taking a long drink from the bottle at her side.

Clearing her throat, Wyn fiddled with her hands in her lap for a moment, "Do... do you know anything about a skin condition one might develop after..." Looking down, she picked at her fingernail, feeling her cheeks flush with color, "After intimacy?"

Tza's half smile immediately fell as Wyn mentioned "intimacy" with a less than unknowledgeable expression. She could guess what had probably happened within the last few days. While she appeared rather unamused, she nevertheless pondered it.

"Hmmmm. Of the carnal ailments, I know of few as is. We orc develop large pads of crusted skin in areas of friction, which become painful and eventually bleed. It is..... unpleasant," Tza'Hal stated clinically. "Among Man, there is the kissing sickness that gives great open sores of the mouth. Some are less clear as to the amount of their venereal cause. Simply, they are unsightly to behold."

Tza'Hal took a hard drink. The textbooks went into far too much detail upon such things.

Blinking, staring up wide-eyed and slightly horrified, Wyn shook her head, "Oh... oh, goodness, no. It... it's not anything like..." Her cheeks flushed scarlet, "It's just a... well, it's not even as a rash. It looks almost scaly?"

Tza threw up her hands, shrugging nonchalantly.

"Dear Sur, I am bested. I know not a single scaly disease. Alas, I'm not doctor. You'd be better off chatting up Kadros -- if you can get him to talk," Tza joked, the drink giving her a pleasant buzz. Come to think of it, she wasn't supposed to be drinking, but monks were also not supposed to refuse things given to them out of kindness or good will.

Drink it is, then.

"I'll have better luck getting him to open up about it than Ha--hmm." Teeth pinching the edge of her lip again, she smiling shyly, "I... I guess it's not much of a secret. Can I ask... One more thing? Have you ever loved someone, Tza? Do you know... Is it always so frightening? I mean... it's wonderful. He's wonderful. But I'm not sure I've ever been so scared..."

Tza glanced over at Wyn at the mention as she began a certain exhalation, from which she could gather the rest. So it was their intrepid "leader" she took fancy to?

The next question did take her off guard, though, and Tza'Hal grew considerably somber, leaning against the table as she rolled the bottle of brew between her rough fingertips. Her gaze was directed at the wood of the table, despite the fact that her chin was lifted high, an orc habit to keep one's tusks at the forefront.

"Once. Nothing of its timbre exists," Tza'Hal stated in a soft rumble. "That feeling is the knowledge that someone else holds a spear to your throat and you trust them with it. The risk is great, yet so is the reward. Hence comes fear-- and its partner, thrill."

She lowered her head now, memory rushing to her. Very suddenly she smiled mischievously and said, "And the thrill is half the fun of it. It is dangerous, and that is what makes it exciting."

Smiling a little brighter, almost a little conspiratorially, Wyn nodded, "That it is..." The smile faded slightly, and she looked away for a moment, "But I am afraid. I've lost so much already... And I'm afraid of losing him. Not just if he doesn't make it through this, but what might become of him if anyone else falls... I never thought... I didn't come into this to fall in love. To be honest, I never thought it possible. Now I'm not sure how I could survive without him."

Reaching out, she rested a hand over Tza's, briefly, meeting the orc's gaze, "Thank you. For your kind words. I should go speak with him." Rising, she smiled again, "I know we haven't spoken much, but for what it's worth... you do credit to your people, Tza. And I hope you can find that thrill again, when all of this is over."

Tza smiled, and, for whatever reason, there seemed a tinge of bittersweetness to it.

"Indeed," Tza'Hal answered, nodding her head to Wyn.

To have that thrill again... She would let the Sur believe that the orc yearned for it again. Perhaps even ten years was too short a time to go fetching spears.

With a small wave, gracing the orc with a smile, Wyn turned and crossed the room to Hal's side. Gingerly, she reached out to touch his elbow, "Hey... Could we... Can we talk?"

Hal, completely oblivious to the tone, smiled over at Wynleth and shrugged. "Sure," he said, and then nodded over to the starboard balcony. "A little fresh air too. It looks pretty in these mountains."

Smiling faintly, Wyn nodded and followed Hal to the balcony. Outside, she with oved to the railing and peered out at the view. He had not been exaggerating. It was lovely, an d for a moment, it was almost enough to make her forget her troubled thoughts...

Almost.

"Are you sick, Hal? Please... Tell me the truth. The marks... Do you know what it is?"

Hal reached the railing and, in an almost childlike fashion, tried to lean over to peer around the ship's massive hull. A soft sigh escaped him as he realized why Wynleth requested his presence alone, and he looked over to her almost ready to brush off the subject entirely. At the sight of her beautiful face he found himself weakened and malleable.

"I don't know," he admitted and tugged at his shirt. "No one seems to know. I feel fine. It might just be an allergic reaction to something on the ship. The bed linens are oddly nice, don't you think?"

Her lip twitched upwards, almost or its own volition and shaking her head, Wyn reached to take his hand, "They're lovely. Hal... Why didn't you tell me about it? When you found it? Why did you keep it a secret?"

He almost wanted to pout with how keen she was in dodging his diversions. Hal shrugged a bit and fought back the embarrassment he felt in the entire matter of whatever scaled his skin. "I don't know," he muttered. "It happened after...you know...and I didn't want to worry you. I wanted to know what it was first."

"Do you think..." Frowning, she considered her wording for a moment, "I've never... That was the first time I've... Hm."

A small smile formed and she looked over at him, "I'm afraid I'm rather pitifully uninformed on the subject. I've no idea if... if that's... Well, I don't suppose it's normal. I'm sorry, Hal... If I caused you discomfort."

Hal quickly turned to Wynleth with an apologetic expression as he refuted her concerns. "No, no!" he said in clarification, and then began to ramble. "No discomfort! Anything could have caused it at this point, and we don't really know how things...go with elves and humans. I mean, I suppose people still do. Charlie is a half-elf. But he wouldn't know either. No one here would know. Do they even have elves in Edros? Maybe Tza'Hal would know. She seems old enough to know..."

Blushing profusely, lowering her gaze, Wyn shrugged, "I already asked Tza. Sorry... I... I mean, didn't tell her anything. Just asked. I was afraid and thought perhaps you weren't telling me because it was something bad. But I don't think... Or maybe she does... I didn't say your name. Though I suppose we're not trying to be discreet. Or.." Looking up again, she frowned, "Are we? If... if you'd rather no one knows about us..."

There was only a fraction of a second where Hal felt almost mortified that his condition had been revealed and their romantic interlude implied, but then laughter escaped him. He was proposing to do the very same not but a moment earlier. "I would rather the world know than to hide it as if it were something to be ashamed of," he said, and then climbed up on the railing to prop himself up on the balcony edge.

"I love Wynleth!" he called out into the winds, arms stretched out in his exuberance. He looked back at her with a wide smile.

"Hal!" Wyn squealed, as he climbed up on the railing. But even in her shock, and the small twinge of fear, she couldn't resist the joy that bubbled up within her. As she grabbed his hand and tugged him back down, she shook her head, laughing softly, "Won't do me any good for you to be bold if you manage to fall off the airship, doing it."

Pausing, she looked up at him, her eyes misting over as she shook her head, "I love you, too. And I don't care who knows it."

His smile turned to a giddy grin as he came off the railings and brought himself before her. Leaning down, he kissed her as he brushed his thumb against her cheek. "Good," he responded in a whisper.

Cheeks slightly flushed, Wyn nodded, reaching down to take his hand, "Good. Now come on... We should go back and figure out what's next."

Lacing his fingers in hers, fitted like the pieces of a puzzle, Hal nodded. "Aye," he said. "We've a lot to figure out from this point. Hopefully we can make it all work."

TAGS || Collabs with @Doctor Jax, @Effervescent
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CHARLIE REDDEMAN
a collab with @Effervescent

Charlie dove for the Seed first off, leaving his bag to be fiddled with later, unwrapping the Seed from the furs and hugging it tightly to his chest. Because that was definitely warmer than the furs. Supposedly?

It did feel cold. He put his hand atop the surface gently as Iballat stood behind him. Charlie glanced at him with furrowed eyebrows, wondering what he meant by getting to see this very one. And which Shae had told him? Pippa? Another stranger had entered their group, and Charlie felt less and less at peace with each growing moment, but at least Iballat seemed friendlier than Vi.

“Theresia sort of left the Seed for me to carry,” Charlie explained slowly. “I mean, we’re all watching over it.. But I’m.. holding it. I’m attuned to fire. I think that’s why she gave it to me.”

Iballat finally looked over at Vi, the two exchanging glances in an unspoken conversation. Their expressions were not very telling, and rather Iballat seemed to still keep his cheer. “Ah! Yes, I suppose…” The Maldviri’s voice trailed off. “Fire, hmm. Quite fascinating.”

“Charlie has business away from us,” Vi stated flatly. “We do not wish to keep you.”

Charlie’s lips pursed as he moved towards his bag now, placing the Seed back down on the bed momentarily as he collected any items that had fallen out back into his bag. A number of strange trinkets seemed to fill the bag, from colored stones to seashells, buttons and screws, ornaments and even silverware. He held up what seemed to be a small piece of broken porcelain, that had been chipped and cracked. His face twisted at the state of it.

“It’s fine. I don’t really have anywhere else to be.” He said, voice almost spacey, as if he were imagining himself someplace else. “Why is my attunement fascinating?”

Iballat had stepped away from Charlie, giving the half-elf space as he collected his things. “Ah,” he began with a tap of his chin in thought, “your attunement is fascinating but I was referring to it needing your attunement. I was not aware it would need so much heat. I find that fascinating.”

Vi remained quiet in the other corner of the small room, his eyes glancing out the window as he pushed back the curtains.

“Did we break anything of yours in transit?” Iballat asked in concern as he noted the chipped porcelain. “I… hm I did not handle the bag personally but I feel in part responsible for the state of anything within. Djavi is rather good with paste if you need any. And I'm rather good at making things look new.”

Charlie continued to rummage through the mess that was his bag until he found what seemed to be another part of the broken porcelain. He tried to put the pieces together, and an old looking baby rattle seemed to take shape. “Oh, I don’t know if the Seed.. needs that much heat, I mean I’ve never.. Set it on fire. Or anything.”

He held the pieces of the rattle in his hands. “If you.. like. It would be nice to put it back together.”

Iballat offered Charlie a warm smile and bowed his head in respect. “I would be happy to help in any way I can,” he said. “Just find the pieces. Djavi, do you mind asking the cook for the paste material?”

Djavi pursed his lips somewhat, but exited the room without debate, arms still crossed indignantly. Iballat paid the disgruntled elf no mind as he held out his hands to receive any pieces that Charlie could find within his bag. “What is it, if I may ask?”

A smile crept upon Charlie’s face as Iballat sent Vi away to go get the paste. Seeing Vi act so obediently to someone, especially to his own dismay, did please the half-elf somewhat. Charlie felt he deserved it after suggesting they leave Tryn behind. But why did Vi listen to this man so unquestionably?

“A baby rattle.” Charlie said simply, putting the pieces together and showing Iballat before plopping them into his hands. “From when I was really little. Kept it with me all this time, guess it held up pretty well.”

Watching Vi exit with a disgruntled look, Charlie dug around in his bag a moment more, trying to find any leftover pieces. “How do you know Vi?” He asked.

“I was his mentor,” he said with a chuckle. “If you would ever believe it. He came to me at first without such intent, but it grew into that sort of relation. And even though he is older than me, I've often felt like he is the son I never had. I had seven daughters.”

He laughed more heartily at that. “They're all grown up and my wife and I traveled. Djavi got to know her for a while too. We were a good team.”

The broken pieces rested on his calloused palms as his thumbs gently pushed the pieces to observe the damage. A sigh, soft and long, escaped him in a thought. “Why do you carry around such breakable trinkets? Ah! At the next stop I shall get you a proper box.”

His mentor? Practically a son? Jeez. Charlie wasn’t sure how anyone could stand Djavi for a short period of time, much less mentor him and consider him a son. Though, seven daughters. That sounded like a big family. Charlie squinted at Iballat, trying to imagine him surrounded by his children, wondering how he’d act around them. Iballat seemed rather kind. Charlie thought he would be a good dad.

What kind of team did Iballat mean? Maybe sort of like his own friends aboard this airship. FIghting crime, beating bad guys? Charlie found it hard to put his finger on what Iballat portrayed himself as even now, standing before him.

“Oh. Maybe I should’ve gotten a box from the very beginning.” Charlie said, happy that Iballat had offered even to do him any more favors. “Iballat.. Can I ask, why you were at Cabric?”

At that, the man lowered himself onto the edge of the bed, hands still providing a bed for the remains of Charlie’s rattle. Fatigue in a man his age was a bit more demanding. “Have you ever heard of the Cabal?” Iballat asked. “They’ve been a menace in Northlyn for centuries. When my people came to the northern regions we dedicated ourselves to ridding the lands of any Shadow threats. My focus has always been the Cabal. They're the most dangerous Shadow Casters, not just because they are powerful, but because they are dedicated. I was in Cabric trying to escape. One man, even if a vindicator, can't take on more than one member of the Cabal. They were hunting me. But that has been our way for some time. I hunt them. They hunt me. They try to catch me in populated places such as Cabric to weaken my Inner Light…”

He carefully set each piece on the bedside table under the flicker of the oil lamp. The larger fragments he took in hand as he thoughtfully brought the smaller pieces to it to determine how to best piece the rattle back together. “You are on a dangerous mission,” he continued, and looked up at Charlie. “But the entire world needs your success. It's a heavy burden to ask, and I am grateful you have taken it upon yourselves. If the Shadow wins, they ruin this world as they leave it.”

Charlie thought deeply on his words, eyes trained on the remains of the baby rattle as Iballat gently placed them on the bedside table. He recalled how easy “saving the world” had sounded to him all that time ago when the journey first began. Then reality had quickly struck him, just as the Shade had penetrated his soul. The Cabal sounded frightful, and Charlie couldn't imagine what spending a lifetime hunting them and being hunted back felt like. Absentmindedly, his hand traveled to the center of his chest, where sometimes he'd still feel a phantom ache, as if it had happened days ago.

The weight on his shoulders only continued to grow with Iballat’s every word, but it'd been plenty heavy the whole trip. “When we first started to look for the Seed, on the Northern mountains,” Charlie said with brows furrowed, “I was hit with a Shade. Could it have been the Cabal?”

Iballat nodded his head slowly. “It could have been,” he said. “But hmm… The Cabal that far out would be in regards to a mission. It's still possible, but more than likely it was another of the Shadow Army. The Cabal spearheads the endeavors but they aren't the only Shadow Casters that comprise the Shadow Army. How have you been feeling since the Shade? Any other hauntings?”

“Not me specifically, but.. we've encountered a lot of shadow on the way here. In Lauderdine we were attacked by shadow attempting to take the Seed.” At it’s mention, Charlie picked the Seed back up and placed it in his lap, running his fingertips over the mossy ridges. “It's funny to think this thing can save the world from shadow. You'd think maybe something like it would at least be able to protect itself in some way.”

Iballat held an internal debate marked by the steady nod of his head and his thoughtful gaze narrowing in whatever was running through his mind. Eventually, his eyes looked over at the Seed on Charlie’s lap. “In that form it is definitely more reliant on others to help protect it,” he eventually said. “That is why it needs your warmth and care, I am sure.”

Yeah, but what if I don’t care for it correctly? What if something goes wrong, and we lose the Seed and it’s my fault? What happens then?

“Right.” Charlie murmured, forcing a smile upon his lips. He stood from the bed after having put the Seed back into his bag. “Maybe I should leave you now. You can return the rattle to me whenever you want. Thank you.”

“Very well,” Iballat said with a smile. “I'll be sure to take good care of it as I put it back together. You are very pleasant company.”
 
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Djavi Nam Abil

He left the room in mild exasperation. Iballat always honed in on things that didn't matter like fixing a broken baby rattle. Procuring supplies needed to make glue was a good excuse to leave, however, and so he did just that. Unfortunately for him, his morals required he saw the task through. His Arcane was exhausted, and to the left his Inner Light significantly weakened. Out of the two practitioners, he was the only one left with just enough to be of use. Something as simple as glue could break it.

Glue.

The kitchen was sure to have the supplies necessary. The ingredients for binding porcelain were common in nature, but he was not sure the cook would relinquish them without a price. The orcs were not typically a generous people group, and he did not hold as much sway as the monk apparently held.

The discussion with the cook resulted in suspicions at first. Vi talked to him in his native language respectfully which garnered a little less heat. There were still some terms he did not know, and so understanding could only go so far.

“Why do you want to fix a baby snake tail with paste?” the cook asked.

“It's more like a baby toy,” Vi corrected.

“Elf babies play with snake tails?”

“No…” Vi sighed as the cook laughed either at the idea of elvish babies playing with snake tails or of Vi’s mistake. The orcs always thought the elves to be a little less intelligent.

“Why do you have a baby toy, Djavi?” he finally asked as he went back to seasoning the filets.

“It's a passenger’s,” he explained. “It broke during the happenings at Cabric.”

“Ten Lueds worth,” the orc said, and pointed towards the stockroom. “You owe me.”

“A debt I will repay,” Vi promised with a hand over his heart for emphasis before procuring the supplies.


Hal Midigan

With a smile plastered on his face, Hal came back into the common area as Inara spoke to the physician. Kadros eyed Inara with obvious offense evident in his furrowed brow. “That is something I know,” he said in a grumble. “You should be less insulting.”

The physician turned and headed out of the common room without detailing where she could find what she was looking for. He didn't seem to care, though. Hal walked over to Inara with a slight frown, thumbing towards the orc while giving Trynten a questioning look. Did something happen?

“Seems like they wouldn't have given us a ride if we weren't traveling with Tza’Hal,” he said thoughtfully, and eyed over the tome in Inara’s hands briefly. “Parchment and ink, right? I think I saw just that in the drawer in my room. It's a bit crowded in there, though. I can fetch it for you if you’d like. Actually, let me just handle that while I'm thinking about it.”

Hal set off on a mission without pause as he headed back down the halls towards his room. He waved at Charlie as he passed and eventually made it to his room where he knocked on the door softly. “It's Hal,” he said.

“Come on in!” Iballat chimed. Hal entered the small room to see both Iballat and Vi sitting as best as they could near flat surfaces. In their hands they delicately held broken pieces of porcelain together out before them.

“Did something break?” Hal asked.

“Charlie’s rattle,” Iballat explained. “Djavi and I are piecing it back together for the lad. It's a good exercise, and good bonding time! Hah!”

The Skadrad hit turbulence and rumbled through the air unevenly. It seemed like a pocket of rough winds, yet as soon as it felt like it subsided the Skadrad shook again.

“This is your captain,” came a voice from the communications. “We will need to make port as soon as possible for repairs. The nearest skyport is an estimated hour from here. Expect delays.”

@Red Thunder @rissa @Elle Joyner @CloudyBlueDay @Doctor Jax

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Back in the common room, Wyn sank down into a seat, watching as the orc physician wandered off. They were a surly bunch in general, but it was mildly disconcerting to think if Tza wasn't among them, how little actual aid the might receive. The world was a strange place - so filled with anger and hate, and for what? Because one person looked different than another? Was it really worth wars and strife and suffering, because one man had tusks and another pointed ears and another smooth skin or dark hair?

Looking up, she gave Hal a nod and smiled faintly as he wandered off, before she turned her attention to Trynten. He had suffered the most as far as injuries were concerned, and it had no doubt been trying, getting back onto the Skadrad the way they had. For as little as she had interacted with him, so far, she admired him for his courage, "How are you feeling? Can I get you anything...? Any of you?" And she looked then to Inara and Tza. They had all been through an ordeal, and considering how lucky she had been, with little more than splinted wrist, she didn't mind relegating herself to helping them find comfort.

Comfort, however, was a difficulty on a ship that never seemed to escape trouble. The jolt came unexpectedly, and nearly unseated Wyn, as she just barely caught herself on the table. For a moment, her heart sank, certain that the danger had caught up to them, but the captain's voice came across the speakers and she allowed a sigh of relief to escape, before rising.

"I'll see what's going on... Offer still stands if anyone requires anything?"

TAGS || @Doctor Jax, @Effervescent, @rissa, @Red Thunder
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Teary Tomes
A Collab between @CloudyBlueDay & @rissa

Inara stood in the middle of the entryway to the commons, confusion rooting her to the spot. Between Kadros and Hal, she was perplexed. Coming to the assumption she’d mispronounced something in her broken speech, Inara let the orc’s comment drop and focused on Hal. In a way he seemed as scattered as she. But soon he was off and Wyn was speaking to the room.

Distracted, but determined not to sound dismissive, Inara shook her head and said softly, “No, no I don’t think so… Thank you though, Wyn. Oh, well I suppose, once you find out what’s going on could you come let me know? I’ll be in my room.”

Excusing herself and walking down the hall, tome still tucked under her hand, she noticed Charlie walking spiritedly towards her. Inara hailed him down, reaching out to touch his arm.

“Charlie?” She asked worriedly. “Is everything okay?”

He hardly realized it, but in his rushing back to his room, tears had begun to well in his eyes. Charlie was not even aware how much his conversation with Iballat had impacted him, or perhaps it was the one thing that just happened to make the steadily growing tower of emotion finally tumble.

The half-elf jolted at Inara’s touch, and he tried to avoid her gaze, but his eyes were already watery and his nose began to get runny. He didn’t want to sob in front of her, he didn’t even want to shed a single tear.

To cry was to make their troubles true; the fear of running so hard and fast that his legs would run away from him because Shadow was chasing them. Being caught by shades hiding behind their backs, Tainted lurking at every location, betrayal and hopelessness and death and tragedy.

“I’mfine,” He barked, but without any strength in his voice. He spoke so fast the words blurred together. Immediately after that, he tried to rush past her, gnawing on his lip hard enough to draw blood just to make sure he didn’t whimper.

Inara turned on her heel, following Charlie at his brisk pace. The young half-elf was in visible tears and while not immediately close with him, she felt responsible for his wellbeing.

“It’s clear you aren’t,” Inara said softly, her usual tone replaced by something more airy. “But it’s fine if you don’t wish to speak of it… B-but I would appreciate some company, if that’s something you wish.”

He sniffed. Charlie could hear Inara’s tone soften with worry and sympathy. He wanted to brush her off, but found himself without any will too. He looked almost mad that she had asked, but the moment she mentioned that Inara was the one who would want his company, Charlie’s anger dissipated.

If Inara wished for his presence, he wanted to help her.

“If you.. Want some company.. I suppose I can..” He paused to drag his sleeve against his nose, trying to stop himself from crying any further, more focused on Inara now more than he was on himself.

She nodded, almost shyly, arms switching hold on the tome. It was heavy, but she felt the urge to keep it close, to keep it safe. Inara took a hesitant step forward, gesturing to a door not three feet from her.

“My room,” She said softly, walking closer so she could open the door. “If you’d like to sit and talk… or maybe just look at the tome with me…” Shaking her head, Inara smiled tightly. “It’s unreadable, to everyone but Vi, it seems.” There was a slight bitterness to her voice but she ignored it, pretended it didn’t quite exist.

But not being able to contribute with something as important as this ate away at her confidence.

At the mention of the tome, Charlie’s eyebrows lifted. He had not even seen it, or heard Inara speak of it. She held it in the same protective manner as he did the Seed. He could sense something about it made her unhappy. Perhaps the responsibility?

He followed her into her room and glanced around before sitting on the bed. It was strange how he did not know Inara very well but had been with her throughout the journey. He fingered the bedding nervously and sniffed again, nose still running. “What’s.. What is the tome?”

“The Shae who gave it to me, err… well, Vi bought the tome off her, I suppose… But anyways, the Shae said it would help us save the World Tree. Said she had a vision of me and everything.”

She shook her head skeptically, despite the fact that she believed -- after Pippa and the gathering of the group, Inara had no doubt of the validity of shae visions… but still, why her? If she hadn’t followed Vi off the ship what would’ve happened then? Her mind swam with possibilities as she took a seat next to the young half-elf, setting the heavy tome between them.

“There’s some diagrams of sorts… but I’m not exactly sure, ya’know, not being able to read it and all.” Inara said finally, ending it all with a heavy sigh.

Charlie’s eyes began to open in wonderment, and now he was eager to see this tome. “Visions? She had visions of you?” He stared at the cover of the book, and gazed at her curiously, begging her with his eyes to open the tome to the diagrams Vi could read. He wished he could read them too.

“Yes,” Inara replied, her tone softening as she spoke to Charlie. “Weird, huh? The Shae said she saw me coming in her vision, and so I did.”

She gestured to the tome as she finished, bringing a gentle hand across the cover as she did. It was leather bound and thick in size. Lifting the front cover gently, she opened the tome with bated breath, wishing above all else she could read and translate the words. But with a gentle flourish of another page, Inara was welcomed with foreign text that resembled scratchings of a child first learning to right. Frustrated with herself, Inara motioned for Charlie to flick through the tome himself.

“We don’t have to talk about… you know, what happened, and I know we’re not the closest of friends, but you can talk to me Charlie. Outside of you and Wyn, I have nothing left of Emalnahar.”

That was enough to make his eyes watery again, but he resisted. He had taken the tome into his own lap and thumbed the pages, gazing at every page he traveled too, using it as a distraction to steel himself. “I.. miss home.” He murmured softly. “I thought I was cut out for this. But it’s all so unfamiliar, and scary, and I’ve… I’ve never done anything like this before.”

“Maybe I’d be better off going back.” He murmured, and now tears steadily fell, the tome open in his lap. “What if I ruin something, Inara? What if I drop the Seed and it smashes to bits and I’m the one that doomed the world. I’ve never felt so… heavy.”

For a long moment Inara didn’t know what to say. Truthfully, in some deep, dark, secret place within her, she felt the same way. Small, insignificant, doomed to fail… But if not them, who else? If they didn’t stand, regardless of their fear or inability to defend anyone but themselves and the Seed of Life, what chance did the world stand against the Shadow Army?

“It’s not fair,” Inara said, “To carry such a heavy burden. You and I, Tryn and Tza, Hal and Wyn… We carry a burden that is not for the faint of heart. But we were summoned, whether we can understand the why of it or not, to aid the World Tree in it’s final moments. I -” She took a breath, her voice catching in her throat. “I don’t know why, nor do I want to guess, why we were selected. So many of us were… Do you remember? In the beginning, all the way back in Thallas?”

Inara let out a small huff of a laugh, reminiscing on the good and the bad since their journey began. So many had left, abandoned the quest… But she was too stubborn, had witnessed too much to not continue on.

“Though it seems fragile, I’m sure the Seed is more sturdy than we give it credit.” Inara said softly, nudging the young half-elf with her arm, a soft smile lighting up her tired eyes. “Yes, this is scary, terrifying really… But we’ve come so far, Charlie, we’ve changed, all of us, and I think for the better. I believe, to an extent at least, that everything happens for a reason… So whatever happens, happens because it was meant to…

“But Charlie, if you truly want to go home, none of us will stop you. But promise me you’ll think on it? I can’t imagine what it’d be like without you.”

Her words stirred a multitude of feelings within him, and as she spoke more tears began to fall. Truthfully, no part of him wanted to abandon this quest. The things that it stood for, the people that he was journeying along with, Charlie had no intentions of simply giving them up. But it was daunting.

So much in so little time, without what felt like any moment to breathe. But here with Inara, he finally had the chance to stop and consider what had transpired. All that they had lost, would hopefully, not be for nothing. And he believed in what they were doing, he believed that it would come together in the end.

“I promise I’ll think on it,” He promised, offering her a small but genuine smile, wiping away the tears from his eyes. “I was.. Speaking with Iballat, earlier. And there were some things of mine that had gotten broken when I left my bag on the ship, so he sent Vi to go get paste to fix them.” He gave a little teary laugh. “I thought it was funny. He didn’t look happy about it.”

“Vi doesn’t often look happy, hm?” Inara mused, the corners of her lips twitching up ever so slightly.

She shook her head sadly though and motioned for the tome. The steady tears from Charlie had moistened the front page. With a soft sigh, Inara leaned back against the wall, eyes closed, getting comfortable and exhausted all at once. Fear and anxiety hit the shore of her heart like a wave; always coming, always going. But for once, she could breathe, step outside and relax. Cracking an eye, Inara glanced down at Charlie. The half-elf had an unusual way about him. A manic ball of energy though he was, he had a stillness to him, a sense of solidity in spirit not many possessed.

“What do you miss the most, Charlie?” Inara whispered, eyes closed once again. “I miss the trees the most, I think. The view, the calmness, the steady, sturdiness of home. The familiarity. No surprises…”

He gave a sad smile at her description. It was comforting, the way she spoke. It did feel like home when she talked, when she described every part of the earth which she was so strongly bonded to. It wasn’t like that with fire. There was no.. solidity in it. “I..” He started. What.. what did he miss the most?

“The warmth.” He mumbled. “The home was always.. Filled to the brim with people, and children.. And I loved the feeling of never being alone. Not even in mind. The fire was always cracking, and something was always baking in the oven, and it was just so warm.”

His words brought a smile to her face. One rarely seen in days dark as these. She didn’t like to remember, not often, her youth; it was myriad of highs and lows, of love and hate, fear and happiness.

“When I was young, my home was like that. Loud. Lots of laughter and bickering. My mother was always cooking something and the hearth never went out.” Inara gave a small shrug. “She was attuned to fire as well. But things change and you lose people. Like now. It’s very hard Charlie, and you’re extremely brave.

“We all are.”

She let out a small giggle that eventually brought tears to her eyes. “That, or we’ve lost our minds. Still, either way, what we’re doing is right and that’s all that matters... right?”

“Right.” He said with a smile. They leaned back together, minds both swimming with their own ideas of home and familiarity and the anxiety of another skyport succumbing to the same fate as Cabric. Hopefully Skadrad and it's crew could go on about their repairs without notice... and continue on, with or without them, safely.
 
Trynten Lothorsen
the Skadrad

Tryn returned Hal's look with a confused shrug. Orcs were still such an unknown to him; Tza at least he'd gotten to know in some small way, finding a respect for her as only warriors can for one another. Yet perhaps she was atypical of her race. Tryn at any rate through his minimal interactions with the airship's crew had issues with communication. It was reminiscent of his first encounters with the elves in Eversyth; each race made assumptions of culture and society, seeking and speaking an unspoken language through nonverba cues. When one was unfamiliar with that culture, well, it could be difficult at best.

Wyn at least asked a straight forward question.

"Thanks, Wyn. I'm fine, unless you can bring a faster sleep." The sudden shake of the ship caused his heart to jump to his throat, though he somehow managed to maintain his seat. "Particularly if the Skadrad keeps bouncing like this.

"But I believe I shall take a cue from Inara." He pushed himself up carefully, hissing and wincing from careful exertion. "Should any need me, I'll be in my bunk."

He couldn't even lie to himself anymore. Their initial flight before Cabric had been a chance to relax and even drop his guard to some degree. Lauderdine had been so awful, so traumatic, that for all it's orcish harshness, the ship had felt such a peaceful haven. But the attack from which they now fled had broken that. The companionship was nice, certainly, but he craved isolation and self-sufficiency. Slowly he made his way through the hallways, collapsing at last upon his bed. The captain's announcement was of little concern to him. One thing was certain: should they be given minor shoreleave at next port, the crew would have to throw him or bodily. Thus far the airship, for all his misgivings, had been to safest place to be. So there he would stay until they reached their actual destination.
 
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The crew of the Skadrad was in a mad scramble on deck when Wynleth arrived. The First Mate approached her questioningly and ready to dissolve any issues therein. She was assured all was being handled as smoothly as possible. The barge that had fallen in Cabric had done enough damage to the structures connected to the buoyant that its integrity had been compromised. Would they make it to the next skyport? The orc was honest in her courtesy report to the passenger. They were trying their best to make it.

The tops of trees slowly came into view where the stood on deck. It was a purposeful descent. From the common room the rest of the passengers could see them breaking and catching in the balconies’ railings as they passed. “This doesn't look good,” Hal said, and just as his words were uttered there came the sound of a siren from outside.

It was a strange device, one an orc fervently cranked with both arms. Gears clacked and churned the central compartment that emitted the multitoned pitch that pierced through the hum of the engines like a banshee’s wail. The crew knew exactly what it was for, though this time it was not a drill.

“Get inside!” the First Mate commanded Wynleth, but as the orc rushed for the door two cables snapped in succession. The ship hitched and shifted downward in weight causing a more rapid descent. A portion of the facade cracked and gave way forcing a steeper downward pitch. The crew slid across the open deck before impact.

The Skadrad met the woodland floor like a punch, but somehow managed to skid to a rough halt before it could topple over. Those who were not fortunate enough to make it inside before the crash would find themselves scattered before the battered Skadrad nestled within toppled trees desperately clinging to its buoyant as it pointed towards the sky at an angle. Those within would find the place once again a mess as they and its furnishings were jostled and thrown about in the impact.

Despite this, it could have gone worse. The ship’s hull still remained intact with few deformities within the metallic plating. The most grievous of damages was still held by what had happened in Cabric. The captain rushed out to assess the damage to his ship, hands clasping his head in disbelief as he contemplated how they were going to fix the stranded ship so far from a shop.

While at an angle, Iballat was able to climb his way through the halls to the common room to check and make sure the others were safe. “Good news!” he said as he entered, and held up a pillow. “The rattle is safe. Not a single piece rebroken or out of place!”

“Is everyone alright?” Hal asked as he propped himself up in one of the corners. “I think we can exit out of the balcony. See if we can help out. Where's Wynleth?”

“We’re in Druid territory,” Vi informed. “Dradmida Druids. Look at the trees. We need to leave.”

The trees of the Druid Lands were known for their natural curling and markings within the bark growth. It is believed they grew in such a manner due to the Druids being so concentrated in their Earth Attunement. For centuries these elves lived in these woods, breaking apart from their Sur brethren to form a brutal and primal society with the intent of becoming one with the world. Dradmida citizens fear them despite the long standing peace treaty. No one touches their land and precious trees. Those that do suffer a fate worse than death, for these primitives have a taste for the flesh of human, elf, and orc alike.

@Red Thunder @rissa @Elle Joyner @CloudyBlueDay @Doctor Jax

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It seemed to be a thing of note, that whenever someone around her uttered the words 'all will be well', disaster could not be far off. It was almost maddening, how the two were intertwined to perfectly. Almost as soon as she left the engineer to her work, the ship gave a terrible lurch and so too, did Wyn's stomach. Despite what she was told, or perhaps in light of it, Wyn knew without a shadow of doubt... they were going to crash.

For a moment, she thought she might make it back inside, but a second more violent lurch sent her off her feet and sliding... sliding, plummeting... falling. There was deck beneath her one moment, then air, and in her mind, the most horrible thoughts occurred that she would never strike the ground. That she would fall and fall and fall forever, in an endless repetition of that ghastly feeling. Then she hit the nest of trees, and the falling was overwith.

She hit hard, and were the trees not there, she might not have survived the impact, but as it was, the jolt was enough to momentarily knock the air from her lungs. Her head throbbed as stars of bright light burst and scattered across her vision and with a groan, she reached up to press a palm to her hairline, where a stream of red trickled slowly from a small gash. The world swam in and out of focus and pushing upright, she squinted through the damage to see the Skadrad, no longer airborne, hunkered in the mess of brutalized foliage. They had crashed...

Of course they had crashed...

Looking around her, she tried to see if there were any others, grimacing as she worked herself to her feet. For a moment, she staggered, dizzied, but steadying herself, she caught sight of a few others in the wreckage of the trees. Moving towards, then, she lowered her hand from her head, "Everyone alright...?"

TAGS || @Doctor Jax, @Effervescent, @rissa, @Red Thunder
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Trynten Lothorsen
the wreck of the Skadrad

Well, the airship had been the place he'd felt safest. Tryn lay upon the wooden planks, bruised and battered but little more worse than he was prior, if indeed significantly more tender. He'd fallen from his small mattress, the impacts and whatnot shaking him off with like a dog shakes free water, and he now lay covered partially by the small feather bed upon which he once rested. It was fortunate; with the jostling, much of what had once been secured within the space had come loose, and furniture, chests, crates, barrels, and books now lay scattered about the place, each a potential injury of high severity. Too, his newly acquired sword lay as it had fallen near the door, looking to be undamaged. Tryn pushed himself up to standing.

They ship had stopped moving. Yet the characteristic swaying that he'd come to expect from their travel wasn't there either, having apparently fled with the Skadrad's momentum. It meant assuredly one thing, in the context of the jostling he'd received: the ship had made an emergency landing. But where? And what awaited them? The Shadow Army, or some variation thereof, had greeted them at Cabric when they'd merely stopped for supplies. Now, with nigh everyone present in a highly compromised situation for the Maker only knew what reason, what enemy might they encounter?

He checked himself over, his original assessment verified. Picking his blade from the floor, the woodsman crept from his room to check of the others' condition, pausing only to first don his boots and cloak. His first stop, whether intentionally or by happenstance, was Inara's room. Forgoing any subtly or courtesy, Tryn shoved open the door. His eyes shifted, scanning for signs of his friend, nearly forgetting in his worry for his friend the necessary precautions he habitually took on such exercises to avert his eyes from those of others.

"Inara? Are you okay?"

@rissa @CloudyBlueDay
 
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Feel The Anger Course Through Your Thighs

a @CloudyBlueDay and @Doctor Jax production

Tza'Hal sat with her bottle of orcish booze, rolling the bottle between her fingers as the ship languidly strode through the sky. She knew that they would be leaving the ship soon -- not just for repairs in the short term, but as soon as they reached their destination. In a way, she was going to miss the quiet calm that had descended upon them before they reached Cabric skyport. She had almost forgotten what such a calm felt like, with the mad dash for the Seed down the Mouth of the Mountain and into Lauderdine. Indeed, it had been so hectic in those weeks.

Her mind drifted to almost a week before, as she'd taught Charlie one of his first lessons in combat....

A Week Prior Imagine There's A Wavy Effect With Twilight Zone Music

Tza'Hal sat with her back ramrod straight, eyes closed as she meditated quietly. Charlie was supposed to come back for their daily lesson, and for the moment, she would take the time to sit and have a moment to herself without the racket of all those orcs in the boiler or the captain wishing to hear another one of his war stories. She had no use for such tales of bloodlust and wonder. She had long ago left that behind.

Or so she liked to believe.

She tried to keep a firm image in her mind, that of a sick and dying tree. For whatever reason, it was an image that struck her deeply and helped her focus. Meditation was not just about understanding the world around you -- it was as much understanding one's self and acknowledging one's own thoughts. For a while, if Tza'Hal was honest with herself, she had felt guilty. She had enjoyed the challenge of battle. She wanted to fight Casters bare-handed, to rend their limbs from their bodies. They had hurt Charlie. They had hurt Tryn. It was a natural thought from a naturally vitriolic personality.

Yet, she knew better. Anger, when misdirected, was often the cause of much unintended destruction. The Order had taught her so much about being aware of one's self. Education of the world could not begin unless education of the person started first. As long as she was aware of the anger, she could control it, fight it, and use it in a constructive manner. Theoretically.

He had scrambled out of the bed in a sudden panicked awakening, as if his body was realizing he had overslept without even checking the time. Tza's words were clear. as they always were. You had to forgive the boy, such a comfortable bed in a seemingly safe environment was very enticing, and if he could get a true restful sleep, one almost entirely free of nightmares, well that was a rarity. It had gotten a bit carried away, however, and he woke up nearly half past their appointed time to meet.

Charlie practically flew out of bed, tugging on some fresh clothing and grabbing his bag which contained the Seed as he burst out from his door and hurried onto the deck.

He was thrilled that Tza had offered to take him on as a student in her teachings. He was desperate to learn how to carry himself in a more confident way, for if this was the life he was living, one of protecting and fighting, he had to know how to do both. And Tza seemed to be the best teacher. He hoped his being late wouldn't cause her to go back on her offer.

"Tza!" He called as he ran up, and then panted once he had skidded to a halt in front of her, entirely unaware that she had meditating peacefully. "I'm sorry I'm late, I was sleeping and then my head got stuck in the shirt and then I ran into the door way and -- never mind, let's just get going fast to make up for what I missed, I'm so sorry."

Tza'Hal's eyes never cracked open a single time in Charlie's entire tirade. For all the world, it appeared that she was asleep, oblivious to Charlie's myriad of explanations for why he was late.

" 'Late' is merely a construct, Charles. We are in no rush. Sleep, with a late start and productivity, is better than awake and early, with not a thing done through exhaustion," Tza'Hal reasoned, slowly getting up, grabbing for Charlie's forearm as she gritted her teeth. Her leg was still a massive pain, with the arrowhead constantly moving about in her thigh, but she had managed to get willowbark from the orc foreman for it.

"Today, we will learn about our emotions," Tza'Hal stated gruffly, drawing herself up to her full height, crossing her arms across her chest. Here came the more difficult part.... "We will be getting you angry today."

For a moment, Charlie thought that she might have actually dozed off in her meditation. Tza was entirely unmoved by his speech, when he had expected at least some sort of punishment or yelling. He was about to nudge the orc when she finally spoke. Despite the use of the name Charles which he let out a sigh at, she seemed quite content with the fact that he had overslept. He didn't understand the whole "late is a construct" part, but eh, what'd it matter.

Her sudden tug on his forearm almost threw him off balance, which would have resulted in both of them on the ground, but Charlie quickly steadied himself and helped Tza upright. Her injury worried him, as it did not seem to be healing at all from her pained expressions and labored movements.

His eyebrows raised curiously at the mention of emotions, and at the word angry he even let out a little laugh. "Tza, I don't think I've ever even been angry." He said, still grinning. "Why do I have to feel that emotion out of all the rest?"

"Anger is one five basic emotions that drive all that we thinking beings do. Simply, it is our reason to do anything," Tza'Hal stated. "Fear, Happiness, Anger, Sadness, Surprise. In combat, the only two that are of any use is fear and anger, and fear drives us to run away, not to stand and fight. What drives us to stand and fight is anger. Therefore, you must master that anger."

This was more of an orc trick than anything the Order had taught, though the Order did have quite a lot of techniques on guiding and directing the emotions. Tza'Hal had learned to let go of a surprising amount of baggage with her time at the Order, but this would not be nearly so useful.

"Surely you have been angry before," Tza'Hal said, a statement, not a question. Even Charlie of all people had to have experienced indignation or outrage.

Nope, Charlie was pretty sure he had not been angry before. Though Tza's words were firmer than just a question, Charlie still was quite sure he only had four of those five basic emotions, as Tza said. And was hunger not an emotion? He felt that a lot.

"Surely there's people who've just aren't angry?" He said with a shrug, imitating her intonation. "What if I just skip the anger and go straight to sad? 'Cause that's what usually happens. Can't I just use sadness in battle?"

"Sadness is cold and quiet, and it does not lend itself to action. Rather, it descends a person into inaction. But anger can be channeled like fire-- which is something you understand, I'm sure," Tza'Hal stated, nodding.

Of course, there was a bit of niggling doubt. It was possible that Charlie had never been seriously angry, not the sort of anger needed to sustain the will to fight. He was a personality better suited to the languid flow of water, or coolness of air, not the heat and vivacity of fire.

So the Law of Personalities in magic was a load of horse manure. She should have guessed.

"Perhaps you have not been angry for yourself -- but what of your feelings towards someone who has been wronged? Would you be angry at someone if they kicked a dog? Or slapped a friend of yours?" Tza'Hal asked. These were theoretical, of course, but the point still stood. "If I were to drop a fledgling bird off this airship, you would be upset, would you not? After all, did Vi not upset you when he suggested we leave Trynten behind?"

Elder Lannya had taught Charlie how to wield his magic, but Charlie, with his emotional naivete, had never quite understood all that emotional mumbojumbo. She'd helped him to keep his magic controlled, but he had never learned quite to the fullest extent how magic was truly tied to every part of his being, though Charlie knew it was an integral part of him.

Charlie's demeanor entirely changed, however, when Tza took a different route and spoke of anger towards someone who had been wronged. He stared up at her, features a strange mixture of confusion, and now just the slightest hint of anger. "D-don't go throwing any fledgling birds off the airship," He mumbled, brows furrowed. "And Vi had no right -- to decide Tryn's fate for him. Of course it made me upset," He said, suddenly and unhappily, and then blinked. The sudden subtle hint of fury disappeared instantaneously, like a wisp of smoke, as if it were never there. "But that's not.. anger. At least, not like you're looking for?"

Tza's smile was more predatory than joyful. It was the look of a person who had corrupted a young mind effortlessly and with great alacrity. Yes! Anger was such a fundamental drive, the thing which could propel a person to greatness, to do terrible, immense things --

But, she pulled back. She was not here to espouse the wisdom of rampant rage. The Order had taught her as much. She had lived that life of bloodlust and, eventually, found it lacking in its satisfaction. Charlie needed to have the will to act, not the need to kill or maim or destroy.

"It is. You felt the need to defend, to act. Can sadness do this? What if you had just been sad for the fledglings, but allowed me to drop them anyways? Or happy, or merely surprised? Does this save the birds? Would being afraid and running away have helped Tryn?"

These were, of course, rhetorical questions. Indeed, she would teach him the wisdom of when to use which emotion -- had he stayed behind to help her in Lauderdine, she would've smashed the nearest plank against his head -- but for now, they would use the basics.

"Righteous, indignant anger gives you the fuel to act. Some are more predisposed to anger. Others, like yourself... must work at it," she said, pausing briefly. She was not used to working with such phlegmatic students. Orcs were far more hot-blooded and, indeed, usually needed to be taught wise fear instead.

He thought on her words a good bit of time, gnawing on his lip. So that had been anger, then? The feeling he had experienced just hearing Vi suggest they abandon Tryn. That was not sadness? No.. it couldn't have been, for if he was already remorseful even before Vi had done the deed, it would be like losing the fight before it had begun. A small bit of understanding crept into Charlie's consciousness.

"So.. what do you want me to do, then?" He looked up at her unsurely.

Tza put the tips of her fingers together, standing as straight as a rod with her chin tilted upwards. Her ground-down tusks seemed to shine in the light for a moment, and it would not be hard to imagine how she would have appeared at an earlier point in life -- with a stately black wolf's tail, fangs, and war paint. However, instead, there was merely a monk wearing short robes and shift.

"I want you to use this with what you have learned. First, we will do our falls, as usual. Then, you will practice your typical fighting motions. And then, you will fight me."

Tza knew that Charlie would most likely balk at the suggestion -- they had yet to have a true spar -- but she also knew they were running out of time. She had done what she could in the time she had, and it was time to put it into some sort of practice.

Tza looked downright scary a lot of times, and now was definitely one of those times. The way she stood, so straight, so stiff, so -- y'know. Scary. He wondered what she really looked like in a full on battle, a war, He was glad to be on her side.

Well, he was. Up until now. When she announced they were going to fight one another.

Charlie's jaw fell open. "Tza.. I'm not.. ready for that.." He mumbled. But if he wasn't ready to fight Tza, what was he ready for? Nothing. Perhaps he didn't even deserve to be aboard this ship. If he couldn't fight, couldn't protect himself or anyone or anything, what was he? What was he worth?

"I mean.. am I? I d-don't.. I don't think so, I mean.. we haven't been at this for that long, I.. “ What was he afraid of? Surely not of pain. Tza wouldn't hurt him.. that bad. Likely, failure. A crumbling, useless mess in front of the very person who had been trying so hard to train him. What if all he did was prove he wasn't good enough? What if she threatened to stop teaching him?

After all his blubberings, a look of understanding formed on the boy's face as brushed his hair out of his eyes. "I...guess we should.. get to work, then."

However, Tza could see he had his doubts. She was not unaware of the fact that it was, indeed, scary to have to fight someone for the first time, especially your own teacher.

"I will not permanently hurt you, but I will not let you win, either. The goal is simple -- upset my balance. Trip me and make me fall by whatever means necessary. I will not hit you in the face, and you shall not hit me in the face either. We are not ready for this yet."

She paused as she readjusted her robes.

"Now -- begin first to consider what it is that would make you angry. Foster that flame. Hold it in your mind first. Then, when you are ready, you may make the first move."

Tza-Hal planted her feet firmly to either side, straddling a wide board. She would be an easier match, no doubt, than, say, Hal -- she had a single bum leg. Perhaps later she would incorporate the other man's help.
Okay. Well, he certainly couldn't defeat her, but there was a slim chance he could trip her or maybe even throw her off balance. He had felt that slight hint of anger, but it wasn't enough to make him want to fling himself at Tza. Even with an out of commission leg, Charlie still had doubts he would be able to even touch her. He had been fighting for days; she had been fighting for decades.

What would make him angry? Someone trying to hurt Tza. But that wouldn't work, since in this case.. he was the one trying to hurt Tza. He tried again, clenching his fists together. Someone harming the home, those that resided in it. The Shadow, the destruction they caused. Charlie scowled, furrowed his brows. He wouldn't let the Shadow touch them. He wouldn't let the Shadow touch any of them.

First he bounced on his heels a moment, putting his fists up and positioning himself as he'd been taught, and then he launched, throwing himself at her as quickly and forcefully as he could, one fist forward, thinking about much he hated the Shadow, with every fiber of his being.

And she sidestepped.

That was the one of the many problems with young fighters. While they more than made up for their lack of experience with vivacity, innovation, and enthusiasm, they had a very, very bad habit of shouting their intentions with their feet. Before Charlie had even chosen where to go, his feet had decided for him, and Tza'Hal deftly tapped his fist downward, hard, as she passed by him.

"Rough, but with power. Keep the flame alive. Do not deliberate your next move. It must be instinct -- with the lower mind, not in the higher, where you think. By the time you think, you are dead," Tza'Hal stated as she readied herself for the next assault.

If she was honest, he was much faster than she had given him credit for. It was a good thing she'd managed to catch where his feet were headed first…

It was almost shocking to find Tza had sidestepped so easily. He had lunged with all his might only to meet empty air, and he stumbled before regaining balance.

Instinct. Instinct? He wasn't very sure how to call upon "instinct", or how to figure out the difference between his higher and lower mind. Uhg, this wasn't fair! She wasn't telling him anything, just spouting random nonsense. Charlie grunted, angered at his own lack of understanding.

He lunged again, teeth bared now, a growl accompanying his animalistic pounce.

Tza'Hal perhaps should not have advised him to take the rougher way around, but whatever the case he finally tapped into that "anger" she'd attempted to instill. His frustration with her had seemingly hit its boiling point, and he was now lunging for her.

Without a thought, she stepped to the right -- and promptly realized too late that her right leg would not support her nor move as quickly as it once had. Too late she dropped into a roll to the side, knocked back slightly by Charlie's mad charge forward.

She would've avoided him easily if not for her injury. Tza dropped into a roll but Charlie still bested her, smacking her side before bouncing back at the collision. The anger dissolved very quickly once he realized he'd hit her, and almost as soon as he had done so, he was trying to help her up again.

"Tza? Are you alright? I'm sorry -- is your leg okay?" He reached out his hand to help her stand up, clearly his face was filled with worry and guilt.

Tza grabbed a hold of his hand and yanked him down to her level right off the bat without a batting an eye. She rolled on top of him, using the tactic she'd taught him of leveraging body weight and stance to make oneself heavier. What used to be only 160 pounds of orc now felt closer to 250 pounds.

"Never lose the fire even when your enemy is down," she grunted, trying desperately to grab his arm and put it in an elbow lock.


A gasp escaped Charlie as he was suddenly yanked down, Tza's ferocity completely unprecedented, at least in his eyes. He hit the floor of the deck and let out an "oof" as Tza came atop him and used the very same tactic she had taught him just some time ago. The pressure was unbelievable, it was as if she had made herself ten times heavier.

"You're.. not.. my enemy.." He coughed out between gasps, trying to avoid her elbow lock, but ultimately not putting up much of a fight.

"Right now I am and I'm winning," Tza grunted as she pulled Charlie's arm back into a chicken wing behind his back and wrenching it up.

Deciding he'd had enough punishment, she let go of him and rolled off, crossing her legs (as well as she could) and brushing herself off.

"Don't forget that a downed enemy is not a done enemy," Tza'Hal offered, though she did pat Charlie's shoulder. "Good first try. You got me on the ground."

He thought maybe his hopeful plea would soften her actions somewhat, but no, Tza'Hal only continued with her "lesson", pinning his arm back further, electing a yelp from the half-elf. Eventually she laid off, and Charlie collapsed on the deck, trying to regain his breath. Even with one bum leg, Tza could still best him without a second thought. Her meager encouragement did nothing for him and he let out a loud sigh.

"Am I gonna have to kill someone on this journey, Tza?" He said bleakly, still flopped out on the floor, staring up at the sky above them. "Is that what you're training me for? What if I don't wanna do that? What if I just want to leave my enemy downed instead of done?"

Tza sat for a moment, contemplating the question. It had never been a doubt in her mind that if someone were to try and kill her, she would retaliate in kind. It was only fair. But, as Lumin she had learned mercy. She had learned that killing often begat killing. And she had grown past her bloodthirsty youth.

Hopefully.

"I am not sure if you will ever have to. But I have learned that it is much harder to put your enemy down without killing them than to outright destroy them. It is only through true mastery of the arts that one can fight and not kill," Tza said seriously. "What I teach you will give you the time to perhaps throw off your opponents-- and get away. But be prepared that you will have to make the decision, and the consequences that come with it."

With a heavy heart, for the first time in a while she recalled the Baladuri archers she'd slain to protect the Seed, and she crossed her arms in contemplation. Had it been necessary? Was a noble goal gained through bloodshed still noble?

The boy was sullen. The idea of killing left him without any appetite for the breakfast he had missed. To avoid killing, would he be showing weakness? What if he couldn't win by just running away? He already had so many nightmares to haunt him. Why add more? Charlie wasn't even sure how he'd be able to get over taking the life of another. He might never.

"What if I'm not ready for it? What if I don't ever want to be ready for it?"

Tza'Hal smiled suddenly with a grim grin, and she stated, "Well, I had better stick close to you, then. I can take care of that. It is alright to never be ready, nor to want to be. I was too ready."

And Now, The Present

With a sudden and unexpected jolt, the airship bucked beneath her feet. She looked up in alarm as she heard the sound of a siren, a shriek she unfortunately knew well. Ship down. Quickly, the monk hobbled to her feet to try and find the nearest closet, knowing that in a moment everything in every room was about to slam into her. If she stayed in the common room, the tables, chairs, cups, plates, and booze would all become a part of her new fashion statement.

She didn't make it to a closet, instead managing to get into a hallway before hell broke loose -- in quite the literal sense. Tza'Hal slammed to the floor and skidded down the hall into a wall at the end with enough force to knock the breath from her lungs and put a goose egg on the back of her head. She lay on the floor wheezing, barely registering that Tryn had staggered out from one of the rooms to try to find their quest mates. If she wasn't hurting so badly, she would've thought the rumpled man coming out of his room after all this sort of funny...[/hr]
 
Getting the Band(ages) Back Together
a collaboration between @rissa, @CloudyBlueDay, and @Red Thunder

It was quiet for a little while. Charlie and Inara enjoyed each other’s company, albeit it being in silence. He had his bag clutched tightly to his chest, the Seed within it. All was still. Almost even.. Peaceful. He felt as if he could finally breathe.

He thought wrong.

The ship let out a wail, a warning before it’s untimely descent. Charlie sat upright, eyes wide with fear, just as it hit the earth and began to skid. Charlie found himself thrown against the wall as he bent himself over, clutching the Seed protectively, smashing his head and back against the wall. The half-elf slumped over, momentarily unconscious, his bag slipping from his limp arms, though ultimately protected, as he’d taken the brunt of the impact for it.

Inara’s worst fear had come true. As the Skadrad fell from the skies, she and Charlie were thrown to and fro, hit and scratched by random objects that had once littered her room. She wasn’t sure how long the nightmare lasted but once the airship settled, Inara stood and glanced around the madness that was her room.

Standing made her head spin however and almost instantaneously her knees kissed the floor once more. Reaching up to touch her forehead, she grimaced in both pain and disgust. Slowly, Inara stood again, wiping the blood across her leathers to stumble her way towards Charlie.

“Are you well?” Inara asked quickly, grabbing the young half-elf by the shoulders softly to check for herself.

The half elf stirred, pain clear across his face as he struggled to open his eyes, though he barely could. He flinched at her touch upon his shoulders, and let out a moan. “N… N-Nara…?” He mumbled, sitting up to cough. “Mmmn… ow… we.. crashed.” Charlie raised a hand to her bloody forehead, wiping it away as best as he could. “‘M well,” He smiled at her, a toothy, delirious grin. “Wubbout you?”

“I’ve been better,” Inara replied with a haughty laugh. “Looks like we’ve both had better days, Charlie.”

With a grunt, Inara stood once more, thankful that the room wasn’t spinning. Her bed stood up on its side and with a shove, fell back over. Rifling through the mess, Inara found the tome whose cover was now a bloody mess, her bow which thankfully had escaped any damage, her bag which was lighter now than ever before, and her quiver… Half of her arrows had snapped but she shoved the arrowheads in her bag, threw everything on the bed and walked back over to Charlie.

“Come.” She said softly, offering him a hand up. “Let’s get you on the bed so I can check you out myself. You did a good job, Charlie, protecting the Seed. Now c’mon. We mustn’t waste time.”

But before Charlie could give her an answer, Tryn burst his way through the door. He, like the rest of them, looked worse for wear. “You should sit as well, you look awful Trynten.”

“I- What?” The woodsman blinked, looking around in vague bewilderment at the forms of Inara and Charlie. They were whole, or as near as made no difference, though the condition of the room was decidedly not so. He patted himself down with his free hand, trying to determine what it was that the she-elf saw. Ah: a shallow tear revealed a bit of wood burn on his chest, given him no doubt by the flooring as he'd been thrown down. He scoffed, touching it gingerly. “It's nothing.”

He gazed at her open hand almost distantly, eyes glazed over, a smile still etched onto his lips. His head turned at Tryn’s intrusion, but he merely blinked. “Tryn,” He murmured, and then returned his attention to Inara’s waiting hand. He grabbed it, grip weak, and attempted to pull himself up. Upon standing, he immediately wobbled and fell forward, catching the bed post, or what was left of it after being thrown around. The back of his head was matted with blood, and he struggled to regain his balance. “Where’d we… where did we crash?” He said between breaths, still clinging to the bedpost.

Inara ushered the half-elf to the bed, almost pushing him onto it. He too seemed unsteady on his feet and the hair on the back of his head was matted with blood. She glanced over at Tryn, eyes wide with worry before answering. “I’m not sure, Charlie. But sit, please.” Inara said aloud, her gaze travelling over to both males.

Reaching into her rucksack, Inara grabbed an old blouse, shredded it into long strips and walked over to the basin. Surprisingly, it still held traces of water and she dampened a few before walking back over to Charlie.

“Do you mind?” She asked hesitantly, holding up the bits of cloth. “We don’t need that getting infected.” Inara side eyed Tryn and spoke quickly. “You as well, those sutures might have opened.”

Charlie allowed Inara to sit him down on the bed, his hand going to the back of his head, blinking incredulously at the blood he found coating his finger tips. He watched Inara silently as she tore apart her old blouse, but only when she asked did he open his mouth to speak. “Uhm,” he started. “I don’t.. Mind, but.. I think I should have bandages, in my bag.”

Tryn responded, crossing the distance to Charlie’s bag quickly. He placed the sword on the floor, not giving it a second thought as he plied the satchel for the bandages the young half-elf had mentioned. A hard something brushed his hand. The Seed, as important to the world as it was light within the bag. Yet at this moment, it bore little value to Tryn. It could not stanch Charlie’s wounds and so was of little use. But the bandages, discovered soon after, were invaluable. Pulling them free, he began wrapping his young friend’s head as best he could, only stopping to change the way he was doing so at the direction of Inara.

“I think that’s good.” Inara said gently as she removed the bandages from Tryn’s grasp. “It’s your turn next, so don’t get any thoughts of leaving.”

The Sur elf looked at the woodsman pointedly and then at the bed. Inara raised a brow questioningly, and then turned back to Charlie. She finished his bandages, and threw the bloodied scraps of blouse over her shoulder. Wiping her forehead, wincing as she did, Inara grabbed Charlie’s bag and handed it to him gently.

“You did well, keeping this safe. Hold on to it for a little while longer, yes? After I check Tryn over we need to check on the others, make sure they’re alright as well.”

“It's just a bit of damn skin rubbed off-” Tryn bit back in response to the woman’s unspoken instruction. It was a harsher reply than he'd meant it to be; the general situation they all found themselves in had predictably gone sideways, despite the best of intentions, and perhaps the sting of the raw muscle bothered him more than he wanted to admit. The sutures fortunately were just fine; he'd checked before he'd left his own room. Yet it likely wouldn't mean a thing to Inara; she probably check anyway. The look she'd given him that had cut off further complaint said so plainly, so he complied and sat upon the bed in a huff.

It was different, seeing her in a nurturing light. She'd tended wounds before, certainly, but this was different. Charlie was cared for with a precise touch and a calmness he'd not expected. It brought Tryn a bit of steadiness in his own heart; if she could maintain her composure, then he damn well could, too.

“Aye, though I'm certain they're fine,” he nodded in agreement. “They're all capable and no doubt managed just fine.”

For some reason, Charlie felt his cheeks grow hot as Tryn wrapped the bandage around his head. He thought he had to look silly like this, but it was better than getting an infection. Still, he touched the bandaging lightly after Inara took the bandages from Tryn, wondering if he was lucky as to have gotten this far without having needed the bandages yet.

Inara was adamant about checking over Tryn, who insisted harshly that he was fine. Charlie said nothing as he took his bag back into his lap and held it tightly, opening the flap to make sure the Seed was alright. He still couldn’t understand why of all people he was the one holding the Seed, but it looked like it was something everyone had decided upon.

“We should go check anyway,” Charlie finally spoke, looking a little fearful. Thoughts of Wyn, and Hal and Tza filled his mind. What if they’d been hurt? Thrown around the ship? He stood up quite suddenly at the thought, panic filling him up, but just as quickly sat back down on the bed, becoming dizzy from jolting up so quickly. “In a moment.” He added. “We’ll check in a.. Moment.”

“Yes,” Inara said firmly, “In a moment. Let your body rest. We’ll see how they’re faring soon enough.”

She turned to Trynten and immediately started to assess his injuries. Charlie was right, they needed to check on the rest of their friends. But if they didn’t care for themselves first, what any help would they be? And so Inara poked and prodded, made sure the sutures were indeed still intact like the woodsman claimed, and then, feeling generous, wrapped the raw skin with the half elf’s bandages. When she wasn’t, less than half of the roll remained, and she handed it to Charlie with an almost apologetic expression.

Just how many more bandages will we need before this quest is through?

Taking the last scrap of cloth, she walked over to the basin and dampened it. It was a shallow cut, thankfully, adorning her forehead just below her hairline. Inara turned to the two men sitting on the bed across from her. “How do you feel?”

“Like we were just tossed around inside a giant wooden box.” Tryn grimaced, shaking his head in concern. “But others may not have been so fortunate. It was my intention to ensure that you were safe, Inara. Now that I see you are, and that Charlie is also as well tended, I intend to find the others. Please take good care of our young friend until I return.”

He stood, wincing as his weight shifted to his legs once more. Perhaps his insides had taken a worse beating than he'd thought. No matter; if anyone had been on deck when they crashed, they were almost certainly in far worse shape than he. Bending to grip his sword from where he'd dropped it, the woodsman made for the door, stepping slowly but purposefully.

Tryn’s answer described exactly how Charlie felt. The boy had become strangely silent as he sat alongside Tryn, eyes glazed over as he listened to the man speak. For some reason, Tryn looked old to Charlie now. He hadn’t looked like that at the beginning, in the tavern. He used his sword like a cane and Charlie felt even a little sad looking at the man. It was strange how much they had all aged in the short amount of time.

As Tryn stood up, so did Charlie. “I’ll come with you,” He said fiercely, overcoming the initial wobble to put a hand upon Tryn’s shoulder, both for support and comfort. “We have to find Tza, and Wyn and Hal, and Iballat.” He glared a little. “And Vi.. I guess.”

Inara rolled her eyes as she watched both Tryn and Charlie stand. Had she not made it clear they would all search for their friends together? Shaking her head, Inara grabbed her bag, placing the tome and the few possessions she had left within it, and then grabbed her bow and quiver, waiting for Tryn to continue on.

“Might as well go together.”

Tryn’s mouth closed with a snap, the rebuttal intended for Charlie dying on his lips at Inara’s insistence. It wasn't safe, in all likelihood. If someone-

“Fine. Come.”

His mood had darkened, and he found himself slipping into the isolated creature of the forest once again. He shook his head, trying to clear it. The path forward was slanted badly, and much of what had been inside rooms that now sat above the hallway had fallen into it, littering it with debris and obstacles. Carefully he picked his way through, expecting the others to follow.

Charlie’s brows furrowed. He hadn’t expected the darkness that appeared in Tryn’s eyes, and opened his mouth to perhaps ask him what had prompted it as they moved outside. Every step made his head hurt, but he ignored the throbbing to the best of his ability. “Tryn, what -- “ He started his sentence but never finished it, because he saw Tza’s sprawled form at the end of the hall.

He scrambled to her side as fast as his body would allow. “Tza? Tza!” He cried with worry, grabbing hold of her arm to help her up.

@Doctor Jax
 
Tza'Hal Aggraf


Tza'Hal managed to raise herself up onto her elbows, but it was taking much longer than she would have liked to get her wind back. Had she been back in her old position, she would have been up on her feet long before this, but as it stood, she was out of practice and out of discipline. She was more apt to sit and read a book for several hours than take a serious beat-down. The ship still slung around in a circle about her as she tried to get her bearings.

Where are we? was her first thought. Then, where are the others?

The second question was quickly answered by the sound of feet heading towards her. Charlie immediately scrambled to her, and with his help Tza sat up.

"Stop your blubbering, I'm fine. Had the wind knocked out of me," Tza'Hal managed to wheeze out. "Did you keep hold of the Seed? What's the plan?"

She hoped that whatever was wrong with the ship was quickly fixable. She had the uneasy feeling that time was of the essence and they needed to get out of here as fast as possible.[/hr]
 
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Trynten Lothorsen
Inside the Skadrad

At the young half-elf's exclamation, Tryn had turned, free hand grasping the hilt of his sword and his eyes widening as the terror he felt in his heart from their unfortunate circumstance came rushing to the surface. Was that why his state had taken such a sour turn? Was his fear now in control? No; it it was, he'd have long been gone, not even bothering to check on the others. Or maybe that was the cause of his fear; the idea of his companions, taking him for who he was regardless of his own hesitation. Or his curse.

But at the sight of Charlie tending to the orc, disregarding even his own injuries, he relaxed, his hand dropping from the sword. All was well, things considered, and one more of his companions was alive. He glanced to Inara, checking her own concern for the she-orc before addressing Tza.

"The plan is to find the others," Tryn answered, tone gravely and dour. He examined her for a moment, assessing her ability to move. Finally he stepped up to her. "If I assist you, can you stand? We must find the others, and quickly; they might be hurt."

@Doctor Jax @CloudyBlueDay @rissa
 
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The ship’s captain furiously shouted in orcish to his crew. The anger was not directed towards them, but it was clear he was frustrated with their situation. Outside he assessed the damage to his ship with a scowl plastered on his lips and his first mate at his side. The crew looked cautious as they dusted themselves off from the fall and headed straight to repairs. There were some injured that had been thrown from the ship upon impact, one confirmed in more critical condition, and another missing.

One of the orcs nearest Wynleth rose from the brush he had fallen into, dirt and leaves matted and plastered to his broad frame. “Alright?” he repeated with an amused huff of a laugh. “We’re in Druid territory, elf. Look at the damn trees.”

Had it not been for the sudden descent of the Skadrad, the tall forest would have been prestige and untouched. There did not appear to be discernible paths even from foot travel. Around the fallen ship were broken trees bent and fractured with jutting white splinters.

“It's only a matter of time before we have to deal with them,” he continued as he began to walk towards the ship. It looked just as worse for wear as the woodland it had scraped into. But most of the hull remained intact while the buoyant slowly descended in its lopsided hover.

He was halted by a spear tip lightly placed at his ribs. While he was massive and obviously strong, he was no idiot and knew one swift jab could easily puncture through to his lungs.

Wynleth would find herself in a similar situation. Spearheads surrounded her in silent warning as the woodland natives emerged into view from their camouflage. She had caused them pause, however, as they took note of her ears, their spear tips maneuvering her hair to garner a better look at its curvature.

”She’s a Sur,” one of them noted in Old Elvish. It was a dialect long since unused by the elves of the Allied Kingdoms, yet still similar enough to be understood by those learned.

”She must be a pet of the Green Fanged,” another surmised. ”No trust. Should be cleansed.”

More of the Druids emerged from the brush to aid in herding their prey. Sharp weapons made of stone and sticks nudged the orc away from the wreckage of the Skadrad back into the thick of the woods. One woman, blonde hair matted in mud, approached Wynleth with a thoughtful gaze. The others regarded her more like a leader figure as they gave her breadth and space.

”We take her too,” she commanded in Old Elvish. ”But not as sacrifice.”

The orc spared a glance in Wynleth’s direction as he was herded past her. He was completely unaware of what the Druids were saying, but he could take an educated guess. “Don't let them eat you, elf,” he cautioned calmly. “They won't kill you first.”

Orcs were no strangers to cannibalism, though with their recent alliance with the Allied Kingdoms such practices were outlawed. The humans found it too barbarous and disrespectful to the dead. But even in such a thing as eating the flesh of their kin or enemies, the orcs did so as a means of survival. It was just another source of food, and they had no burial which involved the rotting of flesh.

The Druids of Dradmida were different in their ways. Cannibalism was more ritualistic involving their religion to the earth and flora. Flesh was consumed as a means of righting wrongs so that those who transgressed against the earth could enter the cycle of life anew through the bodies of the Druids and their magical attunements to the earth.

The rest of the Skadrad was unaware of the hostage situation further into the woods. Maneuvering through the leaning ship proved difficult requiring anyone within to brace themselves against walls and pull themselves into hallways by the door frames. Iballat carefully held onto Charlie’s rattle with one hand while using the other to brace himself against the lopsided rooms. Hal was in dismay by the mess that once again cluttered the floor. They had just cleaned it up, too.

“We shouldn't be too far into Dradmida,” Vi said to Iballat in a low tone. If the Maldviri were concerned, he did not show it, and instead smiled warmly at the elf.

“Are you concerned for everyone’s safety, Djavi?” Iballat asked playfully. “Injured first. We need to make sure we can all travel.”

“I'm not leaving this ship,” the first mate said as she pulled herself into the common room. “But that doesn't mean everyone should stick around. Captain’s ordered some crew to head to the nearest settlement for supplies. It's not too far West of here, but it's still through Druid territory.”

“How bad is the damage?” Hal asked.

“We took a big hit in Cabric,” the orc explained to everyone in the room. “The coils holding the buoyant to the hull were compromised, and too many of them broke with the world pull. That and the crash caused significant damage, but repairable if we can get the parts. Captain wanted me to let you all know you're welcome to go with the crew as your escorts West to find another means of transportation, or you can brave it out here and wait for repairs.”

“Did you happen to see the blonde elf that was traveling with us?” Hal asked. “Her name is Wynleth, and we haven't seen her since she left to check on things.”

“She was up top side with me at the time of the crash,” the first mate responded. “Didn't see her when I came to.”

It was enough to propel Hal out of the room and through the disorienting hallways in search for their missing friend. She was likely outside, though he found himself hoping to run into her at any moment. The sun was blinding as he broke into the open scar carved into the forest of Dradmida. There were some crew of the Skadrad already overseeing repairs with the supplies they had on board while others congregated in preparation for the venture West. In his passing, one of the orc asked whether he was going with them or not, but he didn't answer. It would depend on Wynleth’s well being.

But by the time he found the location where she more than likely was, she was gone. There was evidence within the dirt and brush of bare footprints and blonde strands of hair that clung to a bush. The footsteps traveled Southwest, but it was likely they were not far ahead. With luck he could catch up to them in minutes, but then what? He was just one simple man with no chance of rescuing her on his own.

He ran back to the crew and captain congregated at the side of the grounded Skadrad to relay his findings and hopefully recruit them for the cause. They looked back at the direction he pointed thoughtfully under furrowed brows, their massive hands shielding away the Summer sunlight.

“Krat is missing,” one of the crew stated. “Maybe he’s with the elf.”

“Damn it all,” the captain muttered. “Go with him and see if you can track them down before they're eaten. And then just head straight to Balvid. Kart just got recruited for retrieval duty. This all that's going? Don't forget your weapons or you'll be a useless lot. Take more than five days and I'll have your heads.”

@Red Thunder @rissa @Elle Joyner @CloudyBlueDay @Doctor Jax

 
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no-lightbox
From bad to worse. It seemed at every turn, their journey became more and more complicated, and with the crash, it appeared to have stalled altogether. Still, no one seemed terrible injured, and despite the Orc's muttering about Druid territory, they were close enough that getting back on board should have been an easy ordeal... Should have been. But like everything else, nothing ever went as it should have.

Wyn saw the figure as the Orc turned to the ship and opened her mouth to call out, but found herself in a similar predicament, frozen in place by the sudden and abundant presence of sharp pointy objects. One of them brushed against the shell of her ear, and a figure, one who seemed regarded highly above the others, came close - too close. Close enough that Wyn could make out each solitary speck of mud, matted into the thick blonde mane of hair -- inspecting Wyn with sharp, eager eyes, as though she were something hanging in a butchery.

But Wyn hardly noticed as the words... words that should have been unfamiliar to her by now, roiled through her mind like pebbles down a hill. Her mother, it seemed, was a better teacher than Wyn had given credit for... and annoyingly, her prejudice had, for once, proved useful. It was an old language, near dead, but Wyn had somehow managed to retain the memory of it, and listened with bated breath to the exchange between the natives...

Her eyes twisted to the Orc and her jaw tightening with anxiety, willing him to stay silent with a terse shake of her head. Perhaps she wasn't intended to be a sacrifice, whatever horror that was, but that didn't mean they would keep her alive. Not if she proved too detrimental a captive, not if her fellow captives proved too mouthy. Instead, turning, she stayed silent, and as she walked, mindful of the sharp sticks prodding now and then, she carefully unwound the bandage from her injured wrist, and when they had gone too far for tracks to be found beneath the dense foliage under foot, she let the bandage fall, then took to picking at the torn hem of her sleeve, instead.

TAGS || @Doctor Jax, @Effervescent, @rissa, @Red Thunder
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Inara Belanor
Inara left the moment she realized Tza was alright. The orc’s gruff voice came as a reassurance that she held close to her heart. There was a flood of emotions turbulating through her and a part of her still remained in her quarters, reminiscing with Charlie. But circumstances changed in a heartbeat and she was forced to move on and away from that moment of clarity.

There was an awkward tilt to the lopsided Skadrad and with both bag and bow in tow, it made it even more so. Maneuvering through the halls proved difficult but not impossible and by the time her mood settled back into worry, the sunlight blinded her. A few half-blind steps later, she easily picked Hal out of the small group of orcs gathered. She managed to hear the last of their conversation.

“Is it true?” Inara asked nervously, nursing a stitch in her side as she spoke. She framed the question at Hal, her face marred with worry and doubts. Wiping the dampness of both blood and sweat from her brow tenderly, she glanced at Hal expectantly. “Is it true Wynleth is missing?”

She glanced around the makeshift clearing, as if expecting to see Wyn and the missing orc to come strolling through the trees. But nothing happened except the continual repairment of the Skadrad. Inara glanced back at the trees…

“When should we start the search? This forest is unfamiliar, but I could be of use…”

@Effervescent
 
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Trynten Lothorsen
the wreckage of the Skadrad

Tryn followed Inara outside. If he knew Tza, she wouldn't want assistance more than was absolutely necessary, and Charlie seemed to be handling that. It was slow moving, picking his way out through the lopsided hallways of the airship's belly with unwilling limbs, but eventually he emerged into the daylight. Wreckage of lumber and tree alike lay strewn about, and he gapped momentarily. His eyes picked through the activity and the scenery, trying to make sense of the chaos. To one side, Hal and a smal gathering of crew members held council, apparently seeking some kind of decision. Inara approached them, posing her own inquiries as he stood next to Hal.

Hal. Wynleth was missing? That seemed to be the case, based on the smattering of conversation he heard, never mind the look of deep concern the man bore. Tryn's brow furrowed, and he considered the Baladuri carefully. He hurt, but his wounds were healing and recovery was well underway. If he could follow and avoid combat...

He turned on his heel, striding deliberately around the edge of the clearing as he sought the very thing Hal had so recently found himself. It was foolish; there was no way around that. Beyond the injuries, Tryn was thoroughly ill equipped for pretty well any eventuality, and he had nothing on him save for the sword. But time was critical, and even the time needed to arrange a pursuit party could be too much. Spying a briefly abandoned waterskin, Tryn snatched it up and slung it across his chest.

Another minute brought him to a recently traveled path into the underbrush; given the proximity and direction behind him, it had likely been Hal's. Tryn crept along it, pushing branches and leaves aside with care. Arriving at the place Hal had so recently found himself, Tryn paused, taking a moment to examine it. There were some few branches snapped or broken violently to one side, perhaps showing where Wyn had fallen. And small groups of sticks and grass blades were crushed, approximating a foot size. But not everything was the green and brown of nature. White stood out among the foliage; it was a bandage, bearing a small red stain. So, a guide then. Tryn smiled; he'd underestimated his friend. And if she had the presence of mind to drop the one clue, she would at least try to drop more. He lifted up the bandage and secured it in an obvious location, and breaking several branches in the direction of travel the small bends and snaps of leaf and branch indicated the unknown group of kidnappers had traveled, he set off. No group of any size could travel without leaving at least some clue, and the she-elf's ingenuity would aid their pursuers. Gripping his sword hilt, Tryn crept along.
 
CHARLIE REDDEMAN

A grin broke across Charlie's face even though Tza shoved him away. He was so glad, despite her brutishness, to see her well and kicking. "I've got the Seed. We're all okay, by the way." He jabbed, brows furrowing above his smile. She had obviously meant to ask so; she was just focused on other matters. Which was good. Right.

Obviously they needed a plan. Something had happened and now they had to fight, or run, or something like that. He was quite tired, and his head really hurt, but it didn't really mater. Oh, right. He already knew the plan. Find the others. They're fine, he insisted to himself. Wyn and Hal were strong and capable and he had absolute faith in them. He clung close to Tza's side, despite Tryn offering to help her up.

"'Nara?" Charlie called out to the elf as she walked by, smile fading. Then Tryn, right after her. "Hey, wait up," He mumbled. They were moving too fast, too fast. He blinked furiously, trying to clear the blurriness in his vision. Waiting until Tza was up and moving, Charlie set off to follow the two. He kept a hang on the orc's shoulder, both to steady himself and her. "Hurt m' head," He said gently as they walked.

“Is it true Wynleth is missing?”

He heard Inara's comment even in the hallway, and his grip slipped from Tza's shoulder. "Wh-what?" Charlie cried, interrupting the conversation. He looked absolutely distraught, and turned his head to see Tryn head into the clearing. "She.. can't.. Tryn, wait. Tryn!"

He felt it unfair of him now to yearn for a moment of peace; in truth, he'd had it. Sitting with Inara, talking. That was peace. But why did it have to be so quickly taken away? Not just a rude awakening, but thrown into the wall like a rag doll and the ship was down and needed repairs and Wyn was gone, where had she gone and what was everyone so scared of? His head hurt but his brain hurt too. Too much. It was all too much, and he didn't want to say it, he didn't want to be cowardly but he wanted to go home.

A lot of times he felt like home was with them. They barely shared moments without chaos but it was true and good, and he felt a part of a family. But then they had to go and disappear; why did Wyn have to leave and why did they all have to get hurt all the time. Too much hurt. So much hurt.

"Tryn!"

Charlie rushed after the man. "I want to help you find --" He caught sight of the bloodied bandage Tryn had tied to the tree. "Is that.. Wyn's?" He swallowed, the taste of iron unpleasant on his tongue. "Where.. where are we?"
 
Inara Belanor
“Where do they think they’re--” Inara stopped mid-sentence and rolled her eyes, despite the unease she felt at two of her friends running off by themselves.

She was half tempted to chase after them, to chastise the very thought of rushing off into the unknown. But something else caught her attention and she turned in a small circle, searching for Tza’Hal. Hadn’t they helped her off the ship? With a weary sigh, ignoring any odd looks that might be thrown her way, Inara searched the small clearing.

She had a fondness for nature, for her earthy attunement. The white coloring of the bark was beautiful and though foreign and unfriendly the forest seemed, Inara couldn’t help but admire it’s beauty. Thankfully it didn’t take long to find a small ivory colored limb, one that would function quite well as a walking stick. Making her way back to Hal, she dumped her bag and bow, and motioned back to the Skadrad.

“I’ll go find Tza.” Inara said quickly, eyes darting back towards the path Tryn and Charlie had taken.

Climbing back through the Skadrad was just as awkward as her first trip, but she managed better this time, without her bag and bow in tow. It only took a minute or two to find the grizzled orc. Inara walked up to her and extended the walking stick.

“Will you be coming with us?” Inara asked hesitantly. “Wynleth and one of the orc crewmen is missing.”

@Effervescent @Doctor Jax
 
Tza'Hal Aggraf


It seemed the moment that it was clear Tza'Hal was not injured -- at least, not mortally so -- the others began on their way off the ship. She scoffed at Charlie's soft jab as he helped her stand up, and she glanced sharply at him as he mentioned hurting his head. While a head wound out here was a dangerous prospect, there wasn't much they could do about it. What Charlie needed most was to sit and have a moment to gather his bearings, but of course that wasn't about to happen. There was too much to do.

As Tza picked her way out of the wreckage, minding her bad leg, she managed to catch the tail end of conversation, and her heart sank. The she-elf was missing somewhere in the woods. It seemed there was no winning with this group.

Perhaps concerned for her safety, Inara came back with a walking stick and a question. Tza'Hal's eyes flashed over to the trees -- and the sigils therein. It did not take her long to put the pieces of the puzzle together. She was a learned woman, someone who had studied the elves, their magic, and perhaps begrudgingly their culture. While she was less learned of the more backwater tribes, she was well aware of what Druids were famous for. Time was of the essence if they took another elf and an orc. While Wynleth might be spared for her magical ability, the orc would not.

"Yes, though I fear I may slow you down," Tza'Hal said bluntly, taking hold of the walking stick while adjusting the staff on her back. "Should I prove to be a hindrance, continue onward. Time is of the essence. We are in Druid territory, and they are known for partaking in the flesh of others, if that is who has taken her. It would not do to tarry here."

Tza'Hal quickly bustled past Inara, going at a surprising clip now that she had a walking stick to lean on. She would not lie -- she was no tracker. But, perhaps another set of eyes and hands would be of use in this time.

"Captain! What time do we have left and when should we consider others lost for naught?" Tza'Hal asked seriously. While she had a fondness for all members of the party, there was the sad and terrible fact that they may lose more members, and even the Seed, if they lingered. Priorities had to be considered, and it would do them no good if they lost their main objective -- getting the Seed to the Tree of Life.

@rissa @Effervescent

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