Osna mostly hangs around with Abnaki for the night, still bein' a bit scared the fool will sell his brain to fairies again before the night is through. He tries to make light conversation, avoid talkin' aboot lost loves or souls or any cac like that.
Besides that, a wee nip in the evening, and probably a bit more in the morning. 'Procured' some extra whiskey before leavin' town for good. Need some way to unwind besides playing cards with the loudmouths in the Happy Swords.
Samen grumbles about for the rest of the day, in a more sour mood than usual. Their hostile warnings are considered acceptable somehow, but respond in kind and suddenly I'm the bad guy. If they won't abide warnings of fire, I must simply strike first should it become necessary.
If allies are less trustworthy than foes, then we can all burn together.
The next morning, he packs his few possessions in silence, ready to move on to the next existential threat facing elenity.
Abby silently seethes with you, automatically on your side. No one appreciates us.
After spending some time with Ozhna, Abnaki visits Samen. "You wanted to do research on some of the change that happened to me. I wanted to increase your understanding of both El's and elementals. I may not be a magician of the same calibre as you, but I do know many stories. What can I do to help?"
As you walk away from Hearth, there are no celebrations, no cheering crowds. All the excitement of the Wargames has been washed away by blood and death. The Temple is cracked, the city wounded. Instead, elens of all elements are recovering what they can, and fixing what is broken. No one notices you.
You hear a phrase murmured on the streets, in this new era where priests and nobles no longer command the adoration of the common folk:
"No gods, no gold."
Passing under the Welcome Gate, the large bronze efreet seems to wink at you. You wonder when you will see Hearth again, and what its new face will be. The city walls, the Temple, and the Tall Torch all recede in the distance as your march begins. North, straight through the Charcoal Desert.
Gods cac it, too many wee nips make for a volcing nightmare hangover. Osna pukes a few times, prestidig--belch--atates the mess off hisself, and sprints over to the nearest cart to find some damn blankets to hide under.
-he finds the turnip cart instead. It's a long, bumpy ride, but it still beats marching.
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Kallik wakes up from a terrible sleep. Another dream of hugging Egret, sharing a dinner with her, and then she is taken away, or missing, or screaming. Angrily wiping away a tear, she thinks to no one, at least let me dream without pain!
She rises. Sequoya is nearby, Mishipeshu too. Her breathing slows, slightly calmer. Ready to face the day with friends.
Can't believe I'm leaving Ibinu behind. And Inam... She brutally cuts off that line of thought.
As they march, stomping the cold and the anger out of her toes, Kallik asks Sequoya, casually, "Could you tell me more about your younger sister? I need some happy memories this morning." She does not look at Sequoya as she says this.
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Samen happily leaves Hearth behind. Many interesting adventures and discoveries had happened there, to be sure, but it's also where his family broke apart. Perhaps Wamblee and Iniga could yet be saved, but he isn't optimistic.
Hearth does, however, hold the distinction for Samen of being the only town he's ever left that hasn't been destroyed, had agents chasing him out, or both. So at least there's that.
Gabriel glances backwards briefly, Good riddance... Gabriel says with a hint of disdain, thoughts of his family clouding his mind, bringing the same type of anger as when he critisized the other heroes for...being heroic.
***
The Happy Swords, being a mercenary company, rely on the exact amount of discipline required to prevent murder, theft, and desertion. Any good behavior beyond this is seen as superfluous (or perhaps suspicious). Your supply carts are mostly in line, and scouts are mostly doing their jobs.
Enter the paladins. A whole company of gleaming righteousness, sent by the Council to accompany the mercs, standing out like maggots in cac. The Happy Sword battalion is far larger, but you somehow feel smaller in the presence of polished armor, honorable sigils, and crisp pogona formations.
You wonder if your captain will allow them to pass, or make a fight of it right out the gate.
Fortunately, Captain Fillipo does not have to choose between saving face and antagonizing your new allies - the paladins stay in the rearguard with no complaints.
The outskirts of the city pass you by - farmers, beggars, and families cheering the paladins as they march in perfect rows. A few of the louder children ooh and aah at the stranger-looking elens like Samen and Abnaki. (Gabriel likely decides to stealth away from such unwanted observations).
"Do a spell! Do a spell!"
"Can we pet your cat? Is it made out of rocks?"
Osna casts a silence spell on his own damn head. That'll shut the buggers up, let a fellow wallow in peaceful misery. He holds back the watery bile in the back of his throat and tries not to get sick -directly- on the turnips.
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Samen thinks about it, and realizes that all of his magic is purely utilitarian, and most of the utility is violence. He had become so accustomed to it that it seemed the only use for it. He thinks back to when he was as callow as these, how the elements were a fascination and mystery rather than barely manageable disasters. Those were simpler times. Quieter times.
He throws out a few rays of frost and acid splashes at the ground and trees around them. Hold onto that curiosity, little ones. I hope you live long enough to satisfy it.
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Solely because it's children Gabriel will direct his shadow to move around and move differently from how Gabriel is.
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Blinking back tears before shacking her head. Typically she would ignore the el but things have changed. She changed. While most of her magic is designed for battle and death there are some older and simpler spells that might entertain.
Pointing at different children and poking at them from a distance with MAge Hand. Prestidigitation changes clothing colors, moved their hair around, and puts weird marks in the ground. Its temporary sp she happily take suggestions and requests. All children deserve a bit of wonder.
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The piping voices bring a tired smile to Abnaki's face. Only children could so innocently ask for spells and wonder after such a night. Thank the gods for them. "Let's give them a little show before we go."
The Rise and Fall of the Dragons, the famous historical opera, is typically a three-candle long affair (short by ifrit standards). Abnaki decides to creatively challenge himself by cramming the best parts into three minutes' worth of fireworks.
He starts with reds, of course - crimson and vermillion, fierce fire dragons birthed from the primordial lava of Volcano. Red triangular explosions, POP POP POP, spiked and aggressive, strafe over the crowd.
A moment later, gentle pitter-patter blue fireworks closer to the ground, like sparkling waves - the sea serpents. For a handful of seconds, the bard lets the scene sit; peace and beauty between the two patterns, complementary.
And then the reds POP BANG fall, angry, dragon's breath killing and steaming and roaring. Pyrotechnic dragons with scales of sparks, all majesty gone in the savage battling. Rock and Cloud can do nothing; it is too late.
Silence as the last of the reds drifts upon the black dead Sky. Proud in pyrrhic victory, its bloody head held high-
but struck down by a Volcano full of paternal outrage at this pointless waste. All dragons are struck down, banished to their planes if not killed outright. Streaks of draconic redgreenbluewhite crash together in a deafening finale as the dragons are ground into the dust of history.
Samen mutters under his breath to anyone who would listen as the show comes to a close."I met a dragon once. It destroyed my home, and I destroyed it. Maybe someday I'll go back."
Blinking the afterimages from his eyes, Abnaki thinks about the sacrifice of Inam, and the promise of that strange el Ibinu to reshape the capital in the image of dragons...
He adds a new coda to the opera. Taking inspiration from the ever-dramatic ifrits, he channels his most powerful spells into the conflagration, making it grow - The Return of the First Dragon. Searing red light takes the shape of a gargantuan dragon, saurian ferocity cut into every angle. The towering spectacle does not dissipate as your supply wagons round a corner and a shallow valley cuts you off from the sight of Hearth.
The Return of the First Dragon.
"Are dragons good to eat, do you think, Say-say?" The lurid red explosions dance in Abby's large eyes.
Samen arches an eyebrow at Abby. "As I recall, it was the first essence you consumed in our company. Is your memory limited by the amount you eat?"
You see absolutely no recognition in her eyes. She giggles. "Ooh, tell me the story!"
Osna magicks the sick off the damn turnips again. And he realizes he's been castin' spells inside his silence like it was nothin'. What the hell does it mean to cast spells without the words now? Is it because they're comin' from an empty head like mine?
vulc it all.
Osna finds Gabe, the slippery bastard. He's a good'n to have on yer side.
Making sure he's got Gabe's attention, he says, real friendly like, "Hey shade, make sure ye don't do any scouting without me these days, alright? I can be invisible and sneaky as hell, and it never hurts to have a second set of eyes --- agreed?"
Gabriel, your shadow rolls his eyes invisibly and sighs silently. He's a third set at best.
I am no longer alone when i scout Ozhna. I have...let's call him a companion of my own, not so different from Abby. Other people tend to get in the way of my work, and just in case i get caught the group can claim plausible deniability. Gabriel states clearly, thinking internally, i do not scout with others, when i disappear i remain independent.
Osna quirks a brow, but shrugs and grins. "Suit yerself. Just say the word if it gets too mangy and I'm always happy to come with. In the meantime, fancy a game a cards?" Leaping out of the battered box, the cards float and shuffle themselves around him, a favorite little handy trick.
***
Samen, during the second watch, you hear the expected chimes far above you - a signal from the stars. The message is very quiet.
Gabriel, as you are having a brief breakfast before setting out for the day, you are approached by a young ifrit, obviously part of the paladin company. He has light red skin and piercing blue eyes. "Good bright, sir. You're one of the master scouts, correct? My orders are to greet all the junior and senior officers within the Happy Swords. May we talk for a few minutes?" His tone is light and friendly.
i am... Normally most dont approach me. What do you need? Gabriel looks over the young Ifrit, chewing on a piece of bacon.
The blue-eyed ifrit nods at your remark. "Anything you can provide in terms of your abilities and your tactical recommendations for the unit. The commander is looking to make sure everyone's voice is heard. When the time is right, we want to hit the remainder of the enemy's forces hard and spare as many lives as we can. Gem first, Moon last, and anyone else in the way."
Ah good, contact! Samen dials in the astral energies necessary to establish the connection.
Yes... Actually, the most important thing is mindset. Soldiers should be able to follow orders but also think for themselves... scouts should focus on making the right decisions, knowing when to retreat and how to Gauge distance from the group. As for staying hidden, Practice is great, but limited. Learning some basic arcane magic teaches spells that can turn you invisible and more. Frontline warriors should fortify their mind as well and their bodies
***
Say-say, Abby is watching your body, because your silly husk is limp and staring as you play with the stupid stars in your mind. How tedious. He had best appreciate this when he returns.
Samen,
It is not Shama that greets you in this dark windless midnight air. Rather, it is a bulky red star that pulses slowly. It reminds you in a way of an old, tired Volcano.
There is more trouble to the west of Light. A great lens of glass is being built on Uluru. Plan of Moon. You must destroy this lens.
The tone from the grumbling star make these read more like commands from a superior officer than a simple message, but Samen may not care.
Gabriel, the young paladin thanks you for your time after jotting down your ideas.
Sequoya and Kallik, the blue-eyed paladin finds the two of you next. He inquires about anything you have to offer in terms of abilities, magical strength, or tactical advice.
"Hmph. That's unsettling indeed. If Gem has corrupted Uluru, life is going to get interesting for everyone. Thank you, we'll send someone."
Samen takes this information to the captain and awaits his advice on how to proceed. It seems as though a lens isn't a dire threat until complete, but the forest is already in crisis.
Captain thanks you for the report, and sends Slinky, one of the Sword's minor shapreshifters, on a long-term scouting mission to both parts of the Forest border currently under hostilities. The long-legged shifter salutes, blends into a flat-foot pogona, and slithers northward out of sight.
With that matter dealt with for now, Samen turns to investigating the mad, mixed up essences of Abnaki. A perfect chance to experiment with altering, ideally moderating, his energies.
Samen opens up his elemental eye and gives him a thorough once over. "I suspect part of your problems are due to whatever is affecting the Fey in general, but you've got a weird mixture of Earth, Fey, and Dream all smeared together, with just a touch of latent Fire from your father. I don't have the power yet to add or remove these in others, even temporarily, but with some effort, I may be able to compartmentalize them so you don't have the destructive internal eddies that come from the interactions at their boundaries.
As decorative as they are, that's what these tattoos are for, myself. They give me leverage to push and pull against when managing the energies. My body is a template for my soul, and therefore I can scaffold in what I need. Truth be told, when I started, I didn't even know what I was doing, but it just felt right, you know?
So, Abnaki, I need to ask. What do you want out of this? If you're merely providing yourself as a case study with which to tinker, I can certainly do that. If you're hoping for some control of your own soul, I could maybe help with that too."
"Control is not so important. Power is what matters," Abby murmurs between slurps of ever-replenishing magical goop.
"Hmm, true. If you want to maximize your recklessness, I could try to splice some of what Abby has become into you and see what that does to your already confused identity. If you get all the elemental essences in you, you'll either lose yourself entirely or become a god yourself. No sane el would do that, but for you, it's an honest question."
I do not normally participate in these type of conversations, however i may have to step in and i know this may sound shocking...But perhaps we should not encourage Abnaki to take in anymore essences without him learning to control what he has. Trust me when i say, taking something into yourself can leave scars, experiments with infusing elements has an effect on any El. Shadows were infused into me, and my body holds together, though is scarred and...not always my own. It may be something to use as an example... ultimately, shadow and light are elements like anyother.
Samen smiles in appreciation for Gabriel's interjection. "Thank you Gabe. I wasn't really going to pursue such a course. I simply wanted to see how Abnaki would respond. I have yet to see him deny a pact, and I was hoping to find his limits. The experimentation, you might say, has already begun.
As for you, I would enjoy the opportunity to run tests on you as well, though I certainly understand if you're not interested. I had long believed, as you say, that Dark is an element like any other, but based on my magic ," Samen taps his enchanted eyes for emphasis, "I've come to believe that darkness as we know it is simply a distilled aspect, like Abby's hunger or Stof's hatred. The fact that you and your shadow do not behave like mindless Darkspawn or crazed Dark worshippers corroborates this. You control the aspect, you don't let it control you. Light is an aspect of both Moon and Stars. For a long time we thought Shama was a Light elemental because we had no concept for what Star was. If I had to guess, I would say darkness is an aspect of some equally alien elemental. Something like a hole, or gap. Emptiness. Void."
A chill runs down Samen's back as he realizes he first invites a Void into himself every time he changes essences. Huh. I either need to think about this much more deeply or never contemplate it again.
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That...is how the darkness seems at first Samen...However, The shadows are more like a reflection of our world. Gabriel mentions, thinkning visibly on his next words I do not know everything about it mind you, like what it's true essence is...if i had to guess however, it would be reflection, What the world leaves behind. We have a saying, methods, those of us that learn too survive with the shadows. Gabriel makes a small flame dance on the edge of his blade, creating a dancing shadow with the light of the fire and the blade itself. You do not control the shadow, you do not fall into it, but dance along it's edge. Through the shadow, not of it He quotes, sheathing his blade, It helps to find a medium to focus the mind occassionally, Shadow dancers learn to read the signs through dancing alongside the shadows, that is where i sometimes disappear too. Perhaps that can help Abnaki, or even yourself and Abby
The first week of travel is easy, and spirits are high. The templeroad is in good condition, the weather is fair, and the paladins are mostly easy-going.
It is good to see the Happy Sword on the move once again. Everyone feels more useful during travel, even between grumbling about latrine duty (and pogona feeding). The ragtag mercenaries seem to breathe a sigh of relief to get away from Hearth, the city that many of them assumed would also be their grave.
The Steam Wastes are just visible now - the cracked and torn land that sits between the ifrit farmland to the south and the central deserts.
But there is no steam. As the sharper-eyed among the crew squint and see not a single geyser in the distance, there is murmuring of bad luck among the crew. Many are spooked. Volcano's dim orange eye pulses in background.
Samen will do what he always does when things start going weird. He'll start looking for elementals, or traces of elemental causes.