• Graded • Gods Only Know

Faith and Padriag look for Treid's remains

It is said that when the Immortal Treid was slain, his heart was buried in the shadows of the ice, cursed by the Immortal Audrae. His people built a city atop the frozen wasteland in hopes of one day finding it and resurrecting their fallen leader.

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The slave's voice echoed in a dome room gone suddenly dark. No response came from the figure who'd identified himself as Mason Ettrick. Broken sounds flashed occasionally over the course of a bit, accompanied by milli-tick images that were again scattered like pieces of a jigsaw puzzle.

Then all at once a new pair of eyes appeared; piercing, longing, desperation embodied in light teal irises, set against olive cheeks and forehead, "Is it true? Treid rebuilds himself? You are in the depths of the ice beneath his tomb and you have seen it? He can be restored? Oh! Such relief I have never known!" Without really waiting for any response, the figure, whose voice indicated a woman, continued.

"You must remove yourself from there at once! if he is reconstructing himself, there must be no parasites!" Her own eyes flinched as if realizing the insult, "Forgive me, I did not mean it that way, but you are mortals only, and may cause some weakening by your presence. I can tell you this much. Calam is dead..." Her voice broke slightly on the last word and her eyes dropped momentarily while a hand stroked across them.

She took several breaths to regain her composure, "There is much I do not know, and what I DO know comes second-hand from Xiur, who is NOT 'wandering outside anyone's door!', but even now lies in recovery from that TRAITOR'S BACK STAB!...I was ready to assume he partnered with Audrae's crew, but it seems he slew one of HER elite as well...I'm not sure what to make of that...Almost it seems her part played to rescue him from further evil."

She collected herself again from her muttering, as if she'd realized she was getting off track. "Calam is in Valaris, or his body is believed to be. Others think it lies within an ice berg in the Northern Sea, powering all the strange phenomena there. It is possible. His intent was to prevent the looting of the ruined city. He had some sense of it being sacred ground, upon which he intended some manner of dedication to his father, Treid. He made some elaborate protection, but over taxed and destroyed himself. The power still works, but is now uncontrolled, save for the meager attempts of that fool Ettrick, and his apparent wish to bring control to his liege."

Her voice fluctuated between extremes of anger over parts played by most others, and anguish when the subject turned to Treid and his son. "Understand, I only know of Calam from the words of Xuir, who spends far more time in Valaris than I. But to save my beloved Treid, you must leave his body. It needs the purity of his broken essence returned. The shards, they flew into the heavens. But I think they are likely to return to him. Not all, of course. I even hold one in my hand now, which is how this conversation is possible. Clearly that Ettrick possesses one as well."

Even on such a large backdrop, her eyes plainly focused on Padraig, "The ice itself should serve to restore him as well, I think. But as many pure shards as can be acquired will greatly ease the effort. You, Padraig Augustin. I know you and your dedication to knowledge. You do us both proud. I believe that with your creativity, and command of chemistry, the use of one shard to calibrate your presence within that same body, should allow some means to have it show you a way out. My love has lost a few already. One more should not be significant, but the backlash of your presence could be. Please hurry! I will see you honored and rewarded."
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He didn't disagree with the entity either, so Faith hoped that meant that Padraig wasn't unhappy at being assumed to be a Venora. It allowed her to speak her question but, no sooner had she asked it than everything became more than a little odd again, more images flashing and strange images in front of them. Faith was totally overwhelmed by what was happening, but she just had to keep in her mind. This was Famula's will. She did not understand why but she gave herself completely to the Immortal and she understood that this was something which Famula had sent her to do.

And then, a new set of eyes. A new face, new voice and new words. So many words, Faith found it hard to keep up with them, but she followed along and, in places, she thought she understood things which meant that this, right here, this was world changing.

Finally, as Yvithia (for who else could it be who called Treid her beloved? It must be, Faith thought) spoke to Padraig, a recognition dawned and finally, Faith understood why she was here. Why she had been given a dream and come here. It was to serve by one simple expedient and that was to bring the free man she loved and could not speak of her feelings to, here to this place. As she realised that, Faith considered the number of times she had tried to tell him to leave her, tried to get him to go back.

And it was him that was needed here. It was a lesson in humility for the young slave and she sent a heartfelt prayer of thanks to Famula for the lesson. Her job here was done, in so much as she had accompanied Padraig here. Now, of course, she needed to accompany him out and help him in whatever way she could. She was sure that, with his knowledge of chemistry, they could do something. It was chemistry which the Immortal said he needed and Faith did not doubt that; he was her tutor after all. She knew just how much he knew.

This was an Immortal and she was speaking to Padraig, Mister Padraig Faith reminded herself and all she could and should do was what she did. Which was stay back, keep her eyes down and wait for his conversation to finish. When it did, when he turned his attention away from the Immortal in front of them, Faith simply asked, "What shall we do?" Her voice was quiet and she was, as so often was the case, the very epitome of slave as she spoke and awaited his instructions. However, her eyes turned up to him and they shone with pride.
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"Where'd he go?" Padraig whispered to Faith in the trills after Mason stopped speaking. In fact, it was more a sense of the image and voice cutting out or the entity itself, as if was fading, cutting out or being interfered with by another that was more insistent than Mason Ettrick had been. It seemed so to him anyway, based on the way the images in front of them broke apart and tried to rearrange themselves.

It appeared then that it was the case after another face took his place. Female, Padraig thought. This one seemed less abrasive, but much more talkative than the last. And he'd thought that this, all of this, couldn't get any more unsettling than it already was. He had no idea who the face belonged to. Before he came to realize he'd get very few if any words in edgewise, he nodded his head and uttered, "It appears so." Treid's body, he meant. And could he be restored? Maybe.

From all he'd seen, he'd already begun to believe that they were witnessing around them, life reforming and emerging around them. All those flashes running through what he might reason to be veins or something like it, they'd brought to mind colliding, charged particles like those released from a sun. The kind that created light shows in the heavens. He'd thought about that once, after dragging his feet across a thick carpet in the dead of winter and reaching out to grab a doorknob. The inadvertent action had created a nice blue arc that in turn had given him quite the shock. But maybe, they were something else. Or maybe they were both?

He opted not to share his hypothesis just yet, for the sake of not creating a moment of dumbfounded silence or glazed eyes from all other parties in response.

She might not have meant it as an insult, but Padraig quirked a brow Faith's way when the woman referred to them as parasites. He took some umbrage at that, truth told. But when she spoke of Xiur and how he was not dead at all, but recovering, the young scholar resolved that this was not the time to mention the sample he'd taken. As it happened, that Immortal might just take a little umbrage at that.

He was all for leaving, he'd have liked to dissuade Faith from venturing down here from the start. And the woman made a point. Parasites or no, they didn't necessarily belong here and if Treid's apparent rebirth was in any way similar to the process of a child forming and coming to life within its mother's womb, he'd think there required a certain amount of purity to it.

It surprised him though when she singled him out. He'd only come here to watch over Faith, stop her getting herself into trouble. In fact, he'd only been part of the whole thing that had departed his home, not for fame or glory or some higher purpose. But because he'd been curious enough to climb aboard a strange boat for a look around, and had become so distracted that he'd ended up coming along by accident. But ever since then he'd questioned, why a scholar? But what shards? Where? he wanted to ask. And weren't there ways out of a body already if they could find them? The mouth, the ears? There were others of course, but strange as it was under the strangest of circumstances, Padraig was inclined to draw the line somewhere.

Shards, he thought. Parasites. Frowning in response to Faith's question then looking towards the woman who'd just told them that time was of the essence if they were to show themselves out, first he spoke to the entity, "We'll do our best," and then in response to Faith's question, he grabbed her hand and turned. "I know things about alchemy and chemistry, physics, not medicine. What does the body do when confronted with foreign invaders, parasites, viruses? It rejects them right?" Hopefully the answer wasn't as simple as destroy and kill them, Padraig thought. "Reject and expel them?" he asked. A belly ache for example that caused vomiting, or an irritant in the lungs that caused coughing?

If that was the case however, why hadn't they already been expelled. Had Treid's body not yet repaired enough to recognize what belonged and what didn't. "I may have been wrong about those lights and pulses traveling through the walls," he told Faith, keeping hold of her hand as he hurried back to the last place he'd observed them. "What if the shards aren't just starting to return? What if the process is already underway?" If Treid's body didn't recognize their presence as unnatural already, was there a way to speed up that process, he wondered? "If we could get our hands on one of them...Where in the body might the walls between us and those pulses, lights, whatever they are, be the thinnest and the easiest to break through," he asked her. Hopefully nearby, since what he was just beginning to consider might best take place in the lungs when it was done.
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There was clearly a need for a shard to attempt an interaction with, either to see what power could be gleaned from it, or alchemically imbued into it. But they flashed by so quickly in those few instances where one even appeared, that it was a virtual impossibility.

Luck would manifest itself in the most unlikely and seemingly costly way though. Not having had much chance to secure his sample of Xuir's blood in anything better than a small vial, and currently trying to make haste on an icy surface, slick misfortune was bound to befall Padraig. The domed area they were in had no points of exit to exploit. What they believed would eventually develop into the face was high above them. Even accessing the ears, when they formed into something definite, entailed a climb up a vertical inner ice skull.

But as he and Faith moved back down the throat, his foot turned underneath him on a recently grown hump of ice tissue and he fell, spilling the blood sample into the ice. It was understandable that his immediate reaction was one of irreplaceable loss, for how often did one get a chance to collect even the smallest sample of Immortal blood. But curiosity won out as the blood reacted with the icy tissue around it.

The ice bubbled and boiled around the spill, even releasing wisps of steam as the surface appeared to be trying to reject the substance. Yet, at the same time, the quantity of the rejected material steadily decreased, as if some portion of it was being accepted. Padraig was quick to scoop back up the reduced portion that still rode upon the percolating surface.

Even as he looked to see if there was more to regain, the spill was lighted to reveal the accepted portion of the blood beginning to spread and build into developed tissue at an advanced rate. Clearly there was some part of the blood that the body accepted eagerly, where the rest had quite obviously been entirely unwanted. One focused on medicine might find this fact eye-opening in the extreme.

But the detail Padraig himself focused on was how a new shard flashed into the chamber, and came suddenly to a hesitant stop, hovering tentatively over the location of the spill. The portion of blood being accepted by the icy tissue beneath it was spreading to the point of being almost entirely colorless. Once the rejected blood was removed, the shard dropped onto the stained spot, where tendrils of textured flesh-like ice reached to connect with it.

It was likely the shard would be rapidly lost into the ice if it was not put to some other purpose.
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Padraig grabbed her hand and Faith felt a jolt, like he himself was electrically charged as he did. Her hand tightened in his and she moved with him. "Mister Padraig?" Faith whispered, desperately trying to remind herself that she had to call him that. Master had told her that she must and she couldn't allow these feelings to happen. Not a person, not allowed, not acceptable. She had a function and she had to perform it but damnit, right now she didn't want to. "I believe that was Yvithia, mister Padraig." Her voice was shaking but she hoped that he'd put it down to a case of the jitters having been faced with an Immortal.

His question gave her a pause to think, though. "It depends where in the body they are. If there is a means for expulsion, yes. Vomit, diarrhea, sneezes, watering eyes. All of these are the body's way of defending itself. It will expel if it can, attack if it can not."

They kept moving, going to wherever he was leading and he spoke as they moved. She nodded, mostly understanding most of what he was saying and so she considered his next question, "The nose. It's very delicate, sensitive and the membranes are thin. Or the throat, the ears, nose and throat are actually all connected in a very.. oh!"

The last, of course, was as he stumbled and fell. Faith didn't bother stopping, so much as she just fell to her knees, trying to catch him. "Are you alright? I'm sorry, it was my hand." What was she saying, she thought to herself and she shook herself. "Chatter. I mean chatter. Are you hurt?"

Faith's continued emotional confusion was lost, however, when the whole situation with the blood happened. Her expression changed into a deep frown as she watched that. Like the blood had parts to it. Some of it was useful, other parts not. How, how that might get separated? Did that happen to mortal blood? In that moment Faith realised that she had a hundred questions, but she did not have time to answer them.

Because then, in front of them, there was one of the very shards that he wanted and needed. They had no idea if those shards were dangerous to them, or if they might hurt them. So Faith did what she would always do and she grabbed it before he could, in order to make sure that if it dissolved one of them, it would be her.

"I think best be quick?" Faith said and looked at him. "Please. If you don't mind. Whatever you think, really. Maybe we can chat a while?" The last, she couldn't help the terrified but nonetheless genuine grin.
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Yvithia. Yes, that must have been her, Padraig agreed, while at once recognizing what part of the body they were traveling through, and taking in Faith's knowledge of medicine. She mentioned the nose as a possible exit, though they could hardly reach it without a great deal of trouble. Still, as he made his way along, he considered their options. "The mind's not working yet, I imagine, and the body hasn't recognized us yet as foreign invaders. Or irritants. The trick then is to help it recognize that we don't belong here, and expel us." Hopefully without attacking and killing them first, he'd have added if a rise in the path hadn't reached up and grabbed him for all intents and purposes.

"Aelig's nuts," he hissed as he went down, and Faith went down with him. It was impulse, and might occur to him later that taking the name of any given Immortal in vain, while exploring inside another one, probably wasn't the best of ideas. But the more pressing concern was the spilled vial of blood. Xiur's blood specifically. But fascination won out as he observed the way that the living ice was interacting with the blood. Bubbling, boiling, some took and some didn't. "It's as if the body is rejecting what doesn't belong, and taking the rest. It's immortal blood,"{/i] he told her as he hurried to collect what remained of the stuff. Would it now be a sample containing the essence of both Immortals? He couldn't begin to guess.

Whatever the case, it appeared that the body's process of coming to life around them had been sped up. At least, here in this spot. The thing that fascinated him most however was the way that one of the shards slowed, stopped, hovered and then began fusing itself with the place where the blood had spilled. "We have to hurry," he said and down on his knees began digging into his bag. A small bottle of almond oil, another bit of clear liquid that would act as a stabilizer, and from both of them he collected drops to mix and transfer into a clean vial. Then taking his dagger, he carefully sliced the palm of one hand, made a fist and squeezed a few drops of his own blood into the vial. Then he handed the knife to Faith, encouraging her to do the same.

"It has to be both of us. With this shard, when it goes, it needs to take with it a message that our...essence, doesn't belong here. The body then," he added hopefully, "should recognize us as irritants." And considering their location, hopefully cough them right up. Not that it was an appealing scenario in any sense of the word. If they survived the process, it would be messy. But as for the latter, once you've tumbled through an Immortal's armpit, your standards began to change just a little. Taking the concoction he'd created, he took care to treat the quickly disappearing shard with it. Quickly though, before it was gone.

And when it was? Padraig glanced at Faith and frowned. "This is new territory. I can't say for sure it will work, and if it does I can't predict how severe the backlash will be." Taking her hand in his, and then wrapping his arms around her and bracing himself in case the response was quicker than expected, he added. "If this goes badly for either or both of us, there's something I want you to know. Something I want to tell you." Everything in him wanted to tell her the truth, and all of it. He loved her, and damn the consequences. This could be the only chance he'd ever had.

It was on the tip of his tongue, as he held tight to her in hopes that if what he'd been planning, worked, they wouldn't be separated in the process. But then he hesitated and frowned, realizing just how unfair and selfish the declaration would be. Padraig couldn't do that to her. And so instead, he said, "I want you to know that no matter what happens, we'll always have Tried's armpit, and there's no one on Idalos I'd rather have fallen through it with, than you."
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The reaction was immediate. The shard turned a dull white and melted. The icy surface around it began to boil, with each bubble remaining intact rather than popping. This built with incredible speed to form a rising foamy cushion that took the pair off their feet, if they were not already and began to slide across the surface toward the wall of the interior torso cavern.

There was undoubtedly a moment of fear as the speed with which they approached the wall seemed enough to cause serious injury. But instead, it was a disorienting swoon of dizziness that came over them as an advance stream of foam formed a ramp that now had them rushing right up the face of the wall. The foam now fully encased the pair, which may have become a hazard if it blocked their breathing. For the immediate situation, though, it was a lifesaver as the foam now traversed the very ceiling itself.

Just about the time the two humans had cause to grow concerned for their need to breathe, the rush ended abruptly, dumping them unceremoniously into the base of what looked like a long, tapering vertical tunnel, the base where they now stumbled to their feet being the narrow end. Shouts erupted from above, where platforms were being lowered from high overhead.

It took a moment to gauge height and size enough to realize these were Ellune workmen descending on platforms rigged to be elevated by stout block-and-tackle arrays. Focusing higher up, many such workers could be seen scrambling along the icy walls many hundreds or even thousands of feet above them.

It would surely occur to them the battle must be long over and the Ellune of Treidhart were returning to their profound task of digging for Treid's heart, and of course, sifting through the diggings for valuable minerals and gems as well. There was a tone of warning in the voices calling down to them, being instructed to remain where they were and to keep their hands in sight.

After the recent battle, it was understandable that these citizens would have a defensive attitude, as they shouted up to have the scaffold lowered more quickly. The first two to step off of their scaffold, ordered the two humans to drop to their knees and place their hands behind their heads. Though these were not soldiers, eight foot men of icy build, wielding picks and shovels were not to be disrespected.

As more arrived, they became noticeably less touchy, but all asked the same questions, "What's going on here? Who are you, and how do you come to be here at the bottom of The Chasm?" The vocal pandemonium was halted by one worker who stated clearly that the two were to be taken to the elder. There was one that always oversaw the efforts at The Chasm, and she had apparently sensed some profound disturbance.

Faith and Padraig were shuttled up to the top of the Chasm and escorted to a quickly arranged tent. Though there was a fire inside for their comfort, it was not warm inside. The look on the face of the elder, Lari Sor'ia, was one of desperate hope, "Tell me then, is it true? Our lord recovers himself from the ice? Tell me what you saw!"
OOC: Don't feel like we really need to recount every detail. I'm content to end it any time now.
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All of her life she had learned tricks to remain disciplined, techniques to hide what she felt, to not feel at all. Feelings were no help to a slave, they simply made that slave less effective. That was what she was, she reminded herself. A slave, owned by someone else and not able, not ever able to be more than that. Here, her techniques and her tricks deserted her and she closed her eyes and begged Famula for the strength to remember. She served. She served, she was owned and she could not, must not, ever feel these things. She had no right, she reminded herself time and again. She had no right she could, not, must not.

And yet, she did.

So, as he wrapped his arms around her, Faith lowered her head and held on to him and she prayed that Famula forgive her but she could not help it. She loved him and right in this moment, Faith could not speak because if she did she would say what she should not. More than that, she would ask what was impossible and none of that was acceptable. So she simply allowed herself to feel his arms around her and she promised herself she would remember this, this feeling. Then, he added whatever magic he had to the mix and the effect was immediate.

She held on, she closed her eyes and she prayed to Famula that Padraig survived. That they both did, since her death would cause him guilt and be an inconvenience to Master, too. Any ideas of her own self worth were very far away from the earnest young slave and so as the foam moved around them, she held on and she prayed. Famula had sent her here to accompany mister Padraig, so that he could meet with Yvithia, Faith was sure of it. There were lessons here for her, too, and lessons which she would consider very carefully.

But in the moment, she held on and she tried not to panic and then she tried not worry about breathing.

And just when she thought that worrying about breathing really was her only option, they were dropped out of wherever they had been and landed on the floor. Gasping in great gulps of air, Faith did her best to ignore anything and check that Padraig was alright.

For the rest of the time, Faith followed Padraig's lead. She did not speak unless someone spoke to her and she remained the quiet, dutiful slave. When the Ellune in the tent spoke to them, Faith assumed that she was speaking to Padraig and so she sat, back straight and hands clasped together and she said nothing unless instructed to or questioned. If either of those things happened, she answered fully and completely, always giving as honest an account as she could. But mostly, she remained quiet and let the free people speak.
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Such fun, Malt! Thank you thank you!
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The reaction to what he'd done, was exactly or at least roughly what Padraig had hoped would happen. He just didn't expect it to happen so quickly. As the reaction of the body to what he'd done threatened to knock them both off their feet, Padraig clung tighter to Faith. Of all the possibilities, it could have been worse. Still, they were both overcome by the foam that carried them, that made breathing an impossibility and the only thing on his mind besides making sure they both survived this, was that if they didn't, he'd die loving her. That, and the guilt of believing that if he'd insisted, prevented her from entering the tomb in the first place, she wouldn't be in the position that she was now.

Then as abruptly as it started, it was over and he gasped for air while at the same time making sure that she'd come through it as whole as him. And where were they? Padraig looked up, around them. The throat? The sun was shining outdoors. How long had it been?

They weren't alone though and as ordered, he put out his hands to show there were no weapons in them. And when ordered, beside Faith he dropped to his knees with hands behind his head. When asked, he told the men their names and exactly what had happened, how they'd gotten down there and in laymen's terms, how they'd gotten out. There was no point in refusing to cooperate, or to keep information from the woman who confronted them in the tent either.

So he told her that yes, it appeared that their lord was in the process of recovering himself, and then elaborated on what they'd witnessed while there. Was it an astounding revelation and quite the experience? It was, Padraig couldn't deny it. But more than anything, no matter how he'd once when they parted ways, her with Tristan and him on his own, Padraig could at least console himself with the fact that Faith was safe again.
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Thanks Malt, it was a blast! :)
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Come and get your Loot!

(There's plenty more where that came from)


FAITH:
Rewards:

  • Story: +5
  • Collaboration: +10
  • Structure: +5

These points can NOT be used for magic.

Knowledges:

  • Acrobatics: Pushing Through Inertia Instead of Surrendering to it
  • Acrobatics: Keeping Balanced on a Slippery, Moving Surface
  • Alchemy: Tried's Shards are Powerful Accelerating Reagents
  • Detection: The Behavior of Melt Can Give Warnings in an Ice Cave
  • Detection: The Signs of Construction Taking the Shape of a Body
  • Discipline: Facing the Truly Unknown
  • Discipline: Seeing a Job Through When You are Playing it by Ear
  • Intelligence: Getting Information Right from the Source
  • Intelligence: An Immortal That Needs Your Help is a Good Source
  • Interrogation: A Long-Abandoned Agent Will Likely Spill His Guts
  • Investigation: A Bizarre Environment Can Still Hold Believable Clues
  • Investigation: Determining Someone's Age by Their Vocabulary
  • Mason Ettrick: Holding Up in Valaris
  • Mason Ettrick: Loyal to Luther Family, Distrustful of the Rest
  • Mason Ettrick: Magically Still Alive From the Time of Queen Vanessa
  • Medicine: All Blood May Not be the Same
  • Medicine: Blood is Made of Both Compatible and Incompatible Elements
  • MB NPC: Calam: Treid's Son
  • North Sea Hazards: Calam's Defensive Magic Gone Awry
  • Politics: A Luther Family Minion Holds Partial Control Over North Sea Magic
  • Sociology: The Effect of Strong Hidden Feelings on Conversation
  • Treid: His Body is Reconstructing Itself
  • Yvithia: Says Treid's Rebuilding Body Needs to be Free of Impurities
  • Yvithia: Says Xiur Told Her the Story of Calam

Loot, Loss, Injuries:

Nothing to speak of


Fame: +15

The Ellune will speak highly of your names and findings


Devotion: +20 Famula

several "Own Goal" and "Service" things.
But I'm also calling your presence there being the caretaker of a "graveyard".
If there were Vri or Moseke points you think I missed, let me know.
If you had Qylios, I'd give you the same 20 I gave Padraig.


Comments:

PM me with any comments or concerns :)

___________________________________________________________

PADRAIG:
Rewards:

  • Story: +5
  • Collaboration: +10
  • Structure: +5

These points can NOT be used for magic.

Knowledges:

  • Acrobatics: Keeping Balanced on a Slippery, Moving Surface
  • Acrobatics: Trying to get two people to safety in a free fall.
  • Alchemy: Tried's Shards are Powerful Accelerating Reagents
  • Detection: The Behavior of Melt Can Give Warnings in an Ice Cave
  • Detection: The Signs of Construction Taking the Shape of a Body
  • Discipline: Facing the Truly Unknown
  • Discipline: Seeing a Job Through When You are Playing it by Ear
  • Etiquette: It isn’t Polite to Laugh at Someone Hitting Their Face
  • Fieldcraft: Constructing a Rope Harness
  • Intelligence: Getting Information Right from the Source
  • Intelligence: An Immortal That Needs Your Help is a Good Source
  • Interrogation: A Long-Abandoned Agent Will Likely Spill His Guts
  • Investigation: A Bizarre Environment Can Still Hold Believable Clues
  • Investigation: Determining Someone's Age by Their Vocabulary
  • Leadership: Giving Clear Directions and Demonstrating Confidence
  • Leadership: Taking the Lead When it is Given to You
  • Mason Ettrick: Holding Up in Valaris
  • Mason Ettrick: Loyal to Luther Family, Distrustful of the Rest
  • Mason Ettrick: Magically Still Alive From the Time of Queen Vanessa
  • Medicine: Blood is Made of Both Compatible and Incompatible Elements
  • MB NPC: Calam: Treid's Son
  • NPC: Mason Ettrick
  • Navigation: Maintaining a Sense of Direction Underground
  • North Sea Hazards: Calam's Defensive Magic Gone Awry
  • Physics: Safe Use of Tension and Gravity
  • Politics: A Luther Family Minion Holds Partial Control Over North Sea Magic
  • Sociology: The Effect of Strong Hidden Feelings on Conversation
  • Treid: His Body is Reconstructing Itself
  • Yvithia: Says Treid's Rebuilding Body Needs to be Free of Impurities
  • Yvithia: Says Xiur Told Her the Story of Calam

Loot, Loss, Injuries:

Nothing to speak of


Fame: +15

The Ellune will speak highly of your names and findings


Devotion: +20 Qylios

Geeez, Just a ton of Courageous acts,
Acts in interest of friendship,
Preaching hope under despair, yada, yada, yada
Just gonna take 20 on this.
If you had Famula, I'd give you the same 20 I gave Faith.


Comments:

Good Lord you guys, I had a Mountain of fun with this!
Consider yourselves Heroes of the Ellune.
Sorry Faith. many of the Ks I'd have given you were things you already had.
Same was true of you Pad, but to a somewhat lesser degree.
Faith IS a postin' fool, after all! ;)
word count: 722
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