• Memory • Domo Molo Fo Mo Trobo

The Misty Miasma is known best as a dark bedtime story, but others know all too well that the stories of this mystifying, deadly place are undoubtedly true. Adventurers keep wary eyes upon the horizon, wondering if and when they'll run into the stanch waters of the misty miasma. No one knows when they'll come across it. All they can do is hope they are prepared and pray they never find themselves within this place...

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Nauta F'mos Geey
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Joined: Tue Jul 07, 2015 2:56 am
Race: Aukari
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Domo Molo Fo Mo Trobo

10 Ashan 716
It happened too quickly. Before he could even make sense of Fendrossa and his partner's request, before he could even think of formulating a plan based on whatever he could actually understand to solve this Drosa problem which plagued the village, the village and its inhabitants seemed to have faded away into obscurity. The only evidence of Nauta's unconventional conversation, if it did ever happen at all, were the papers used to facilitate that discussion. Oh, there was that new one too. Once he regained his bearings and made sure the new place he was sent to was safe, the aukari took a break on his resting scython. That was a lot to take in which was made even difficult by the fact Fendrossa was no longer with him to make sense of it.

Eventually though, the aukari felt he got the gist of it to continue. 1. Don't get bitten by those accursed bugs. 2. Be wary of Drosa's necrosa powers and domain command, whatever those meant. 3. The 'ward' was going to be the only thing he had to defend himself from those unknown powers, though completely useless against those bugs. 4. The 'ward' was also the only thing which would get him back to his destination of not-Sirothelle, after he ended Drosa with the blade which came with it. 5... 5... 5. Don't fight with whoever that Mr. Molo and give him loot. The last instruction from Fendrossa had Nauta think for a little bit. If this Mr. Molo was all that powerful and easy to bribe, why did the village not just bribe the man to deal with their Cullen Drosa problem?

Regardless, Nauta had his game plan and at least the first problem was something the alchemist could deal with. To say the aukari of Sirothelle were fond of using fire to solve all their problems would be an understatement but none of them would ever complain about the results fire delivered. It was the same for the insects. Though he was no longer at the village in the swamp, the woods of the miasma were still wet at least when compared to the volcanic lands of Sirothelle. This suited the alchemist's purposes just fine and from the education provided by Sirothelle on how to best ruin their enemies, Nauta knew it was the wet wood which was the best to burn. He collected a fair number of these which proved to be the easy part of his task and then, he got to work.

With his supplies, far too little he now for a trip to anywhere away from the city he once called home as he observed, the alchemist brought out the oils and stuff. He had at first thought them useless when he found them on the scython he borrowed for his trip but now with the ever-looming threat of the midges, they were an immortalsend. By applying them to a piece of torn cloth which was wrapped around the pieces of wood he found, the aukari struggled to light the fire. It was something Nauta never needed to do as he was usually stuck in the city and the mooks at the camp made it look something he could easily do on his own. Somehow or another, he was able to eventually light the torch after almost a break. Any longer and the lighting would have been too poor to continue.

Only briefly Nauta consulted the map under torchlight; the insight to follow it back to the start for a night at the sheltered village died without a guarantee the forest, if it was conscious as the inhabitants believed, would allow anywhere but to Cullen Drosa. Reluctantly he pressed on for another break as he struggled through the forest. The cat was no use this time as like Nauta, it had the same protection to diminish the effects of the smog; damp rags for masks. The beast unable to make use of its natural senses was an unfortunate side effect but at least, there were no midges. The scents of the flames warding them off or no, it was still an acceptable burden for the minutest chance to avoid the threat the mind swapping bugs presented.

Though he needed no extraordinary senses to realize something was off. The midges were only a concern until the point Nauta was confident they were no longer around which was after bits passed. It was the forest, shifting trees Fendrossa warned him of in the map. It was uncanny there was always a path to continue down, a path which never branched out or hint at the presence of other woodland creatures with trails to lead away from it. Stranger still was the fact the path always looked straight! Even after a turn or a bend, looking back would make Nauta doubt himself as behind him was always a straight path. At a few points after the scython brought his attention to them, he would even swear he saw some trees move!

Hopefully it was all just his imagination from his frazzled nerves in the twilight forest.

With no other incident in the woods, Nauta believed he was home free when the sight of the peak of the hills came into view. They were only barely above the trees but the peaks had him relieved nonetheless. Not the scython though. As though it had grown fond of the strange woods, it growled loudly at the path ahead and started to drag its paws. Nauta pulled and pulled, shouting every single command he could think of in Vauni for the beast to continue on to no success. A few choice profanities to express the aukari's lack of care towards the poor feline, it was in the ownership of another which Nauta hated barely only a season ago, and he was back on the path to reach the end. He was not too worried he would lose the scython. Despite its demeanour, it was well trained.

He only waited for a few bits once he had a little distance from the scython and though the cat did not follow him, he could hear its low growls which marked its approach. Only keeping it within earshot, he continued on further down the path and slowed down only because the encroaching darkness had him a little more wary; not because of the cat at all. It only took a few more bits, though the aukari it may as well have felt like breaks, until Nauta finally found something which looked something other than those damned trees. It gave a wave- that made it seem friendly enough although Nauta was still unable to make out what exactly it was because of the poorly lit forest. With only Molo mentioned on the map however, it was as good a guess as any for the aukari.

Very convinced of his idea of Mr. Molo, Nauta simply said "Mr. Molo, I've come to bargain!" in response.

No acknowledgement of this was given and Nauta asked again, "Mr. Molo, I've come to bargain!" for the same result. Thinking maybe the strange forest had something to do with it, the aukari continued his approach and repeated his declaration a few times. He got close enough to see Mr. Molo was probably not a human but the aukari already met the strange inhabitants of the village; the wispy apparition was not in his eyes that threatening in comparison. Look at him, he was even still giving Nauta a friendly wave- a mistaken assumption by the aukari who did not know any better as he thought it was an invitation to treat with the spectre. A painful correction of this mistaken assumption was brought down on the aukari shortly after.

Hard to believe such a wispy person would be so solid but Nauta was without a doubt weighted down on the ground by Mr. Molo. He frantically yelled at it about how he was only there to bargain to get through with maybe the spectre's assistance against the blight known as Cullen Drosa but it was in vain. Mr. Molo would not be persuaded. More pressure was put on him and the aukari in a desperate need for a way out remembered the advice on the map. "Molo, be generous as you can to pass." He frantically reached for his pockets, perhaps he had to first show he would be able to reward Mr. Molo for his assistance. A little weight taken off his back after Nauta presented some shinies to the thug convinced him he was on the right track so he asked again.

"Mr. Molo, I've come to bargain...?"

Nope. In fact because he was running out of air, it felt like the weight increased. He was getting worn out and only wanted out and more shinies were tossed out as he pleaded to be released. If Mr. Molo wanted generosity just to pass, Nauta may as well satisfy just that and then, he was spent. Enough weight was taken off that Nauta knew he was almost there, only a little more to go. Then he saw the scython he ignored despite its warnings. He pleaded for it to come close, his tone matching the desperate command for the creature to just approach with no need to attack Mr. Molo. He snatched a few of the old commander's trophies displayed at the cat and tossed it at the heavy-handed entity. After the shinies were collected, Molo just vanished; right off the path and into the trees.

'Ungrafetul scum...'

And worse of all Nauta still had to deal with Drosa, alone, after Mr. Molo taxed him to the limit.
word count: 1631
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Re: Domo Molo Fo Mo Trobo


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It was fairly unlikely that the aukari would realize it was only the expansion of the entity to its full size that toppled him to the ground. And for all its visual size, the Bog Molo had very little actual weight. But what it DID have was an innate understanding of the electrical impulses within a live body, and how to manipulate them to give the practical impression of a heavy foot, crackling with lightning, pressing upon his mortal chest.

Smoky residuals rolled by like a thunderhead as the spirit leaned in close to gaze upon the offered baubles. The struggling tones of his prisoner only gave more assurance to the entity that these things were only being offered because the creature beneath his foot did not value them enough to fight for them. Still, they were pleasant to look upon, and he would take them, but they did not count towards release.

The weakling's voice took on a new tone, and the Molo perceived it was no longer directed his way. There was a cat of some sort, dressed in armor even, and with bags of unknowns. The Molo sneered down, assuming that it's prisoner was trying to drive the animal off, to safely hide the REAL prizes. He laughed in a voice that sent bolts of lightning sizzling through scorched branches, and raised his foot to let the squirming worm up off the ground.

Though he could easily outpace the cat, there was a reason he did not wish to move far from the spot he now occupied. It was better that the man-thing go and retrieve the things he had sought to keep from him. He crackled another song of yet another victory over those who would try to deny tribute to he that guarded the one safe pass through the to death-man's domain. Unappreciative rabble, one and all. Would they prefer that the Drosen should freely walk this side of his mountain? Foolishness!

Tucking away the shinies into a pocket of sealed electro-magnetism, the Bog Molo sneered a measure of sarcastic thanks to the man-thing. It was doubtful that the mortal had the wit to realize it was being mocked, but the Molo did not care. It had received its tribute and was content. It would be difficult for one with only human-type eyes to tell if the Molo's departure was embodied in the steam that dispersed upwards, the smoke that dispersed outwards, or the lightning that streaked into the shaking ground. But at any rate, in an instant, it was gone, and the way was clear to travel around to the dead side of the mountain.
word count: 450
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