Safety in Numbers [Solo | Job Thread]

[Pash'nar]

Timestamp: 8 Spring 512-20 Spring 512 Location: The Suvan Sea between Alvadas and Riverfall Hardly recovered from his near-drowning at sea, Pash'nar found the first few days in Alvadas to be just as harrowing an experience. The djed storm had torn through the place, leaving nothing but a bleeding, broken mess in its wake. He'd been battered a bit, sure, but it was nothing in comparison to the kind of destruction left behind in Ionu's city. People of all kinds had taken shelter in the Underground, and they had all suffered somehow—from scrapes and bruises to loss of property to mortal wounds and death. It was a shattering few days. Thankful for the gods' strange timing in placing Eridanus back in his path, the false Svefra had spent his time recovering in the Underground as well. He met people. Alvads. Stranded travelers. Merchants. Other sailors like himself. It was just one of those situations everyone gathered around the same meager fires and shared the same meager meals regardless of social status or birthplace. Everyone just needed each other. As the dust settled, people began to wonder if they were the only ones who suffered. People worried for their families. People worried for their homelands. People worried for their friends. The ethaefal really wasn't good at empathy or being a people-person, but the time in the Underground recovering from his own wounds and seeing others suffering had given him a bit of a sudden human interest. Some of the stories compelled him, and eventually he found himself gathering notes, picking up packages, collecting stories and questions. Sometimes, he was even collecting mizas with all of these requests. What was he going to do with all this petching stuff? Maybe it was where he ended up in the Underground, the crowds that huddled near him, but a fair enough number seemed to be searching for information about Riverfall that he decided it was as good a place as any to investigate. The Suvan was now unsafe, but, where was safe after the terrible storm? Nowhere. Once he felt well enough to travel, Pash'nar loaded his antique casinor with his strange collection of cargo and as much supplies as he could afford, he cautiously left the mess that was the Patchwork Port and headed south through the wreckage and the mess, shuddering at the memory of his own near-death just days before in the same waters. He still wondered if any of the crew he'd worked with survived.

[Pash'nar]

Timestamp: 10 Spring 512, Evening Sailing away from the Patchwork Port had been difficult. The wreckage was everywhere, and Pash'nar was thankful for his small casinor. If he'd have been in a larger ship with a crew and some kind of cargo capacity, he'd never had been able to reach open water. But, gods above, the wreckage was horrible. Still smouldering ships, bodies, wood floating like skeletons, forgotten merchandise. If he'd been more of a pirate, it'd certainly had been a field day or two, but the ethaefal had little interest in picking over the dead. He was almost numbered among them, and that was enough to keep him away. Once he was free of the reaches of the port and all the ships that had been destroyed just within sight of the City of Illusions, he was able to set his course and prepare his route. Waiting patiently for evening as he caught the breeze and pointed his bow south, the night was partly cloudy but still offered him enough of a glimpse of the stars to calculate his heading by. Standing at the bow with his sextant in hand, Pash'nar carefully lined up his sites with the horizon and the brightest constellation he could see despite the fast-moving clouds. It took longer than usual, and the pale shard of moonlight had to pause and curse a few times in the choppy water or when the clouds blocked his view. It took several attempts at lining everything up, squinting across the plane and checking his location against the section of map he had memorized in his head. He was a little off, by a handful of degrees, and he took note. Slipping from the fore of his boat, he walked along the port side, running a hand along his sails until he reached the stern and his tiller to adjust his course to the best of his estimation. A bit that-a-way and, well, it would do. Leth's full face was slowly rising on the horizon, giving the ethaefal a better chance of keeping a look out for monsters or more wreckage or worse. It would be a long night.

[Pash'nar]

Timestamp: 13 Spring 512 Location: The Sea Gates, Riverfall It appeared as though Riverfall's port had fared better than Alvadas' own, considering it was protected by towering, time-worn rock and the awe-inspiring view of the waterfall and the stunning city itself. Thankful that his trip south had been without monsters, despite the harrowing wreckage along the way. Despite having been to the city before, the view was refreshing and somehow calming. The orderly, somewhat peaceful promise of the Akalak's city was somewhat attractive, especially in contrast to the chaos of the City of Illusions. Still, he had no interest in staying long. Approaching the docks revealed that the djed storm had indeed still had an impact here on Riverfall. The port was hardly bustling or full, and as he unloaded his meager collection of cargo (a handful of letters and some small packages) into his rucksack, he made sure he had the mizas to pay his fare for … what … the day? Two days? He had no petching clue. Following along the worn wood of the docks, Pash'nar found his way to the Portmaster's office. The tattooed sailor endured the introduction and the precursory handing out of rules, the explanation of how times had changed after the djed storm, and properly paid his fees, deciding he'd only be in town for two days or so. Apologizing for taking up the time of the tall, muscular blue man, the false Svefra revealed where he'd come from and what cargo he was carrying with him. "All the way from Alvadas?" The Portmaster echoed with a bit of deep incredulity, arms the size of the navigator's head and then some folding across his broad chest to look down at the smaller, swarthy inked man in disbelief, "And what do you plan to do with all of this?" "Well, I ain't sure." Pash admitted ruefully without hiding his chagrin, calloused hand straying to rub at the compass in the moon tattoo at the back of his neck in discomfort, "I ain't gonna be able to find ev'ryone on my own. Surely, some of 'em are dead an' not all of 'em live here anymore. I was hopin' to hand off this stuff to folks who know the city better an' can maybe find these folks who've been given letters'n'packges'n'words'nthings." "Yes. That may be much more efficient, but do you honestly believe we can spare the manpower to find family members of individuals from other cities?" The dark-haired man rolled his shoulders in a shrug, eyeing the rucksack full of heartfelt notes and small, useless packages. He remembered the looks of desperation from every person that had passed something to him, even when they had no coins to give in the exchange, "Nah. I know you ain't got the folks to spare, but maybe there's some honest folks 'round who wanna help. It'd give some folks somethin' to do 'stead of mopin' after th'storm an' bring some hope to folks missin' their families." Like he cared. He hoped his words didn't sound too forced, for Pash'nar had little understanding of family save for a handful of friends and the fishermen that had rescued him over a century ago. He wasn't good at keeping strong relationships or holding onto friendships, afraid that he would lose them to inevitable death. The Akalaks were long-lived, at least. Like the Konti. And a few other races. Their sense of family was much stronger than the ethaefal's. He hoped his appeal would strike a chord in the Portmaster who towered over him in every way, if only to save him the footwork of a fruitless effort. "Ah. To bring hope to our residents here, maybe your idea is worth while. You may leave your packages here and I will see that they are distributed to the best of our abilities here in Riverfall, though I can't guarantee it will entirely be in a timely manner after the storm." "Oh, aye. D'you have any details o'what happened here that I can bring back t'Alvadas with me? Y'know, to tell th'folks that'll be askin' after their kin an' all." The Portmaster sighed and invited his unexpected sailor to have a seat in his office, which only seemed tiny in comparison to the blue man who occupied it. He gave a brief summary of all the djed storm had done to the beautiful cliff city, sharing the kind of first-hand account in a frank way that even Pash had not expected. It was generous of the man to share such details, but also disturbing to hear the echo of destruction even here in such a beautiful place. It was with a heavy heart that the tattooed sailor left his packages behind to return to Alvadas with his news. He thanked the master of the port for his time and spent the day resting, gathering more supplies, and drinking the aches away. A couple of taverns proved to be good places to hear more from the locals, as well as spread word about Alvadas' experience with the djed storm, helping residents of Riverfall to know that the storm had reached far shores. Eventually, he staggered his way back to his ship to sleep off the afternoon of drinking and tale-swapping, knowing he'd set sail to return to Alvadas the next day. He didn't have any return letters, but at least he had news, news he could share with a few folks in the Underground and let it spread through Ionu's city like wildfire, bringing comfort to some and further worry to others. The djed storm had reached further than anyone had imagined, but Pash did hope his packages arrived in at least a few of the right hands over the next few days. He'd actually feel like he accomplished something even if one person was brought a sliver of hope from his cargo, regardless of the mizas that lined his pockets from the journey.

[Pash'nar]

Timestamp: 18 Spring 512 Location: The Suvan Sea near Alvadas Pash'nar had lingered a few days in Riverfall, soaking up the relative peace and calm despite the damage done by the djed storm. Compared to the always-shifting nature of Alvadas, anywhere was better. The ethaefal had certainly found it an unusual experience to find his gender in such a majority, finding the culture of the Akalak city to be completely unlike anywhere he'd ever been. He wasn't sure it was such a bad gig, considering his own personal issues, but he certainly was convinced that he couldn't live in a place with such a disparity between the gender populations. It would have been boring rather quickly. Happy to be back out at sea, where everything was familiar and welcoming for the most part (minus the wreckage and the potential for sea monsters], he took some time during the solitude of his return trip to really weigh what he'd seen over the past several days. It was hard to process the true effects of the djed storm so soon. It would certainly rip whole economies apart just like it had turned buildings and occupants into ash. It would be a stumbling road to recovery, but Pash saw the merits in what he could do as a sea-faring opportunist. Plenty more people would want to send messages, packages, and possibly even themselves to other cities. For information. For a better chance at life. For any number of things. So many large ships had been destroyed by the storm that he was lucky to have his casinor. He knew that surely the Svefra had suffered, too, though he was unaware of the extent of damage they'd been left to endure and pick themselves up again after. He'd learn soon enough. Eventually, the faint outlines of Ionu's city were visible on the horizon and the dark-haired navigator felt a bit of relief. He'd survived his first trip back into the Suvan after almost drowning in it, barely saved by Laviku's mercy (or his own luck, whichever was greater … he still wasn't convinced which one). He'd survive more as long as he was careful. And, his pockets weren't as empty as they had been.

[Gossamer]

. Character: Pash’nar Experience: Sailing +1, Navigation +1, Observation +1 Lore: Alvadas after the Djed Storm of 512, Patchwork Port after the Djed Storm of 512, Riverfall after the Djed storm of 512, Couriering news and goods between Alvadas and Riverfall, Wreckage and Flotsam in the Suvan after big Djed Storms, The impact djed storms have on city, people, and the Suvan Sea. The Suvan Sea after a global djed storm. Additional Note: Loved the concept of this thread. I’d have liked to have seen much more detail in the sailing and navigation other than your one small description so I could have awarded more XP. Perhaps having to sail through wreckage would have made an interesting scene too. I loved how your character’s walls break down when he is alone and how much he really does care about the world as a whole when no one is really looking. Anyhow, let me know if there is any issues! .