Event This Can't Be Happening Part 1

Ialari experiences a rather pleasant day to start which ends on a strange note.

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Syka is a new settlement of primarily humans on the east coast of Falyndar opposite of Riverfall on The Suvan Sea. [Syka Codex]

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This Can't Be Happening Part 1

Postby Ialari Pythone on November 1st, 2022, 5:11 am

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Morning of the 15th Day of Fall, 522 AV


6th Bell

Ialari’s eyes lazily fluttered open as her senses were quickly filled with the sounds and scents of the sea. She heard the birds singing and in some cases talking; an oddity that she still had a difficult time wrapping her mind around. There was the sound of the water licking away at the pilings of the rancho she was in. The salty smell of the sea filled her nose and the breeze that blew in carried all of it. Slowly she allowed herself to awaken further as she stretched her arms and legs before sitting up with her legs hanging over the side of the bed. Running her fingers through her hair, she paused for a moment looking at her non-metallic arm. Her eyes traced the many scars before moving down to the rest of her body. Years before coming to Syka had been spent primarily in her Dominion eating mainly fruits, vegetables and fish. As a result, her body had become leaner than she may have otherwise been had she not left Sultros more than a decade ago. Her gaze shifted to the many other scars that criss-crossed her body. Each had a story and each was a reminder of the experiences that had shaped who she had become.

Turning her thoughts away from the past, she stood up and made her way to the latrine before heading back to the rancho’s kitchen area and to the nearby counter where sat a large basin of fresh water and a folded piece of cloth. Unfolding the cloth, she dipped it into the water and proceeded to wipe her face and freshen up a bit. There was also a small plate with a bundle of five banannas and a half-full bottle of rum. Plucking a bananna from the bundle, she partially peeled it. Then, picking up the bottle, she walked out on to the deck that surrounded the rancho where she looked out to the sea.

There were several ranchos, some nearby, that lined the shore. Something caught her eye on one of the pilings supporting one of the other ranchos. A large, blue crab was slowly climbing up the piling. While it wasn’t anything out of the ordinary, it was a calming seeing one of the many facets of nature in action.

Ialari briefly looked back toward the shore. There was little activity from the people there. It was another aspect of Syka that had taken a little for her to get used to; the fact that there was no solid schedule to the day for most of the inhabitants. People woke up when they felt like it with some sleeping well into the afternoon. Daily activities seemed to be engaged in on a whim and there was little care to be had. At least that was the case most of the time. The previous season saw quite a bit of fear and anxiety with the dark events that had taken place. Ialari sighed softly with a slight smile at the thought that maybe things were slowly getting back to normal; even if she struggled sometimes with what that meant.

For her, there was something of a schedule she stuck with. She would wake early in the morning. Clean up and have a bit of breakfast. Go for a short walk on the beach before returning to the settlement to see what the new day was going to bring. She would have a bit of lunch as close to midday as possible. That usually consisted of fish and some fruit. After lunch, she usually took some time to study, write in her journal and meditate. Then it was dinner which consisted of different types of seafood each day, depending on what she was in the mood for and what she could round up. Finally, it was another walk along the beach before returning to the rancho. Sometimes she would walk with the ghost of her deceased friend, Shalla and other times Ialari would meet with her at the rancho. There they would discuss all manner of topics while also engaging in rounds of spiritual possession in order to making working together easier and more comfortable. Of course there was always the occasional unpredictable variable mixed in the course of her day and sometimes she would take a few bells and return to her Dominion in order to tend to things there. Before bedding down for the night, she would commune with the gods. The next morning, she started it all over again.

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Ialari Pythone
I'm Poison.
 
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This Can't Be Happening Part 1

Postby Ialari Pythone on November 1st, 2022, 5:12 am

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Having a schedule was something she forced herself to do after returning to Syka a few seasons back and spending more time there. Before that, she found herself spending many bells and even days in and out of meditation within her Dominion. The ability to perceive the passing of time was quite different in the Ukalas. Day and night occur when she desires a change and there are no seasons there. The weather also changes based on what she wished it to be. She had no real set routine; eating when she remembered she was hungry, bathing when she started to smell and sleeping when she couldn’t keep her eyes open any longer. She learned long ago that spending too much time in the Ukalas can have unexpected consequences and cause great changes but she hadn’t realized how much it had changed her until after spending more time in Syka.

Returning her attention back out to the sea, Ialari proceeded to eat her bananna. She took her time chewing and savoring the fruit’s flavor as it had become one of her favorites. In her home of Sultros, further north and into the Unforgiving, the climate was not suitable for growing such things. In her time on the far eastern coast, there were banannas but they didn’t hold quite the flavor that the ones in Syka did. She often wondered if it was because of the magical ruins that surrounded the settlement. Whatever it was, she took small bites and made them last. When she’d finished the bananna, she took a long drink from the bottle of rum before wiping her face with the back of her hand. Rum too was a newfound delicacy especially when it was mixed with fruit juice.

Finally, Ialari walked back inside. She sat the bottle back on the counter and put the bananna peel in a small jar and closed it. She would save it in order to use it in making essential oils and other philters for the Panacea. She then walked into the bedroom and began to get dressed. Getting dressed for a day out in Syka was far different from a day out in many other places she’d been. Unless she was going to the Stair-Step-Falls to her private retreat or venturing out further from the center of the settlement, she would normally wear little more than a simple silk loincloth and either several seashell necklaces or a simple silk wrap around her chest. Top that off with her pouch and dagger and that was it. Which is exactly what she did.

Once dressed, Ialari packed a few things into her pouch; her journal and a few tools for collecting ingredients for her philtering projects before heading out for her morning walk on the beach.



Beginning her walk, Ialari started off in the direction of the Commons. It was not an overly long distance but it gave her time to think and take in the atmosphere of her surroundings. She walked at the point just short of where the water would lick its way up the sand before retreating. The sand was warm on her feet though as it was still early morning, it was not uncomfortable. She was in no hurry so her pace was quite casual. The sand was littered with the hollow, broken remains of crabs as well as a variety of other cracked and broken shells. Small, amorphous blobs of sea slime dotted her path. Most were harmless although very slippery, really gooey, and sometimes sticky. She learned to be careful with messing around too much with it though. If she wasn’t, she could quite possibly mistake the harmless slime for a jellyfish. Although rare, some highly venomous ones could be founded washed up on the beach. When she did happen to find one, she almost always collected it for her poison work.

Continuing along the beach, Ialari eventually approached the bungalows. She always thought them a good choice for a place to stay as there were some nestled back in the trees for those wanting a bit of shade as well as some closer to the beach. She still preferred the ranchos however due to their being right on the water. Just as she was passing by, she noticed a moderately-sized bird of prey perched on the railing of one of the bungalows decks. It was devouring something that was once alive but now was nothing more than a hunk of shredded meat. She wasn’t sure what kind of bird it was; her knowledge of much of the animal life around the area was still quite limited. As she watched, she reached into her pouch and took out her journal and a stick of charcoal. She wrote down the general appearance of the bird; medium in size with black feathers and what looked like patterns of yellow and red on its back near where the wings extended outward. She noted that it was early morning and at the bungalows.

She spent several moments observing the bird eating its meal while taking a few more notes. Eventually, the bird with what was left of its meal clutched in its talons, took flight and vanished into the trees. Packing away her journal, Ialari continued her walk. Not too far past the bungalows was the Protea Inn. It was owned by Tazrae, a human girl and friend of Ialari’s whom she met the previous season. Ialari and Tazrae bonded almost immediately as they were quite similar to one another in many ways while being different enough to make things interesting. The inn itself had wonderful food and drink which Ialari often made time to indulge in.

She stopped just before she passed the inn when she heard someone call out. “Hey, you there, the short girl with the black arm.” The voice was higher-pitched but did not sound either male or female. When Ialari looked around to see who was talking to her, she couldn’t see anyone.

“Um, I’m up here.” The voice said after Ialari turned around in different directions trying to find who it was.

That was when Ialari looked up to find a rather colorful parrot perched on the edge of a bird feeder. Tazrae had made sure to set up quite a few of the feeders around the property of the inn. When she saw who or rather what was talking to her, she gave a rather annoyed sigh. These damn birds. She thought to herself. Of all the places in this world I could have ended up in, I pick the one where all the damn birds can talk and often won’t shut up. At least the other bird was more focused on eating than talking.

Shaking her head she said in a dry tone, “Hello. Nice morning for a meal.”

She didn’t want to engage the bird too much. She noticed that parrots seemed to like the talk the most of all the birds in Syka. While some had some surprising things to say, so many others just wanted to talk about their days. That was something Ialari grew tired of after the tenth bird in a single day wanting to talk about its day.

The parrot reached down with its foot, picked up an especially large seed, brought it to its beak and proceeded to crack it open. After swallowing, it looked at Ialari and cocked its head to the side. “Why yes, yes it is. I was ju…”

Ialari quickly interrupted the parrot, “I’m actually on my way to have my own meal and I’m late. Do enjoy yours.” She then continued on to the Commons. She gave a sigh of relief as she left the parrot to its seeds.

It wasn’t much further down the beach to the dock. Ialari looked upon the Veronica as she approached. So many secrets to that ship. She thought as she wondered what the ship’s namesake might be up to. The ghostly child of the ship’s captain, James. Normally the mark of Dira on Ialari’s hand would start itching in the presence of a ghost but at that moment, she felt nothing. She did note that there was a little bit more activity starting up around the Commons nearby. Some people waking up early and doing just what she was; making their way to the one place in Syka where you can be sure to see almost everyone at some point throughout the day.

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Ialari Pythone
I'm Poison.
 
Posts: 615
Words: 923946
Joined roleplay: August 13th, 2009, 3:26 am
Race: Isur
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This Can't Be Happening Part 1

Postby Ialari Pythone on November 1st, 2022, 5:19 am

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Finally arriving at the Commons, Ialari smiled as she saw a familiar face. Sitting on a bench under the roofed portion of the large deck was Kajun. One of the Verusk whom Ialari met a few years earlier during one of her previous visits to Syka. He was, like all of the Verusk she’d met, a little off. Ialari liked him because he seemed to have a very analytical mind and was a fountain of knowledge. He also enjoyed learning as much as he did sharing.

Kajun was sitting along the outer railing of the Commons with a large open book. He was dressed in a light robe the color of lilacs with a simple staff leaning next to him. Ialari immediately took a seat next to him which noticeable startled the man as he jumped a little.

Although her accent was still somewhat thick, Ialari was learning more and more of the common tongue so when she spoke, she felt a bit more confident in her pronunciation. Either way, the general meaning of most of what she said tended to be understandable. “Must be some good reading.”

Kajun carefully closed the book. He recovered quickly from being startled and a slight smile formed. In a rather deep voice he said, “Indeed it is. I was just reviewing the mating rituals of ancient humans. Let us just say that it is a wonder they ever made it this far.” It was Kajun’s attempt at humor which unfortunately he was still not all that comfortable using.

Ialari’s face contorted in disgust before realizing Kajun still had that weird smile on his face. She laughed and folded her hands in her lap. “I’m glad you are here. I was hoping you could brighten my day with one of your stories. Preferably not one that deals with how old humans...well...just no.”

Kajun got a thoughtful look on his face before saying, “Actually...yes, I think I do have one you would like.” He proceeded to reopen his book and began turning the pages several at a time until flipping through a few individual ones and finally stopping; apparently finding what he was looking for.

“This one is a both a story as well as a record of something found some distance north of here, not far from the border of what you call, the Unforgiving. It comes from a fisherman whose crew stumbled across something remarkable. Apparently, they were attempting to avoid an incoming storm when they discovered a small shallow lagoon along the coast. It was sheltered by the surrounding jungle. Their ship was relatively small so they were able to find some shelter away from the open water.

As the fisherman tells, they anchored their ship the best they could and the six of them took a raft further into the lagoon to try and set up a camp to weather the storm. As they approached the shore, they were greeted with a startling sight. The remains of a wrecked ship.

The ship was massive in size. Parts of it appeared to be covered in thick plant growth; its sails in tatters. The ship had been there for a very long time. Steering the raft closer they noticed a large rip in the side of the hull though they noted that, aside from the obvious damage and the overgrowth covering it, the rest of the ship looked to be in remarkably good condition.

As they came closer to the ship, they were covered in a blanket of sadness. It was then that one of the fishermen noticed that there was no signs of wildlife anywhere around the ship. Even with the weather slowly getting worse, the part of the lagoon around the ship remained calm. The sadness was uncomfortable at first and a couple of the fishermen wanted to go back to their boat. The boat captain, a man by the name of Gorvon, had his fair share of experiencing all manner of oddities on the water during his time, steeled himself against the unsettling feelings in the air and urged his crew forward. Once glance in the direction of the coming storm and the churning sky, made up his mind for him. The crew knew better than to challenge Gorvon as he had seen them safely through a lot during their time together.

The water became too shallow to take the raft any further so they waded the rest of the way while pulling it along with them. When they finally stood before the ship, they realized just how large it was. As told, the ship was one of the biggest any of them had seen before with the main mast rising over 100 feet from the main deck.

With their torches at the ready, they examined the hole in the deck and it looked as though something ripped all the way through from one side of the ship to the other. The heavy feeling of sadness remained a constant reminder that there were likely a good number of lives lost during whatever had happened to wreck the ship in such a way.

The hole in the ship had ripped through the cargo hold although much of the cargo looked sealed and intact as the men climbed inside. The silence was quite unnerving. Looking back outside of the ship, one of the fishermen commented on the arrival of the storm as the rain and wind had whipped up with fury. Despite that, inside the ship, the sad calm and silence remained.

With the sheer size of the ship and the unnatural feeling that surrounded them, he decided they would all stay together. Curiosity winning out over the ever-threatening fear, Gorvon led them to a nearby set of stairs. As they carefully ascended, a dim glow began to grow in front of them. When they reached the top of the stairs, they saw that the glow was coming from several small crystal globes mounted on sconces. The illumination, though dim was more than enough to reveal its contents. It looked to have been the crew deck but the sight that greeted them was shocking.

Toward the ship’s bow, There were dozens, well over a hundred individual skeletal remains carefully wrapped in what was likely their hammocks. They were laid out in tight rows. Upon seeing this, all but Gorvon and the fisherman who told this story, immediately ran back down the stairs. Gorvon and his remaining crewmember examined one of the skeletons while taking great care not to disturb the remains. The skeleton’s clothing was still mainly intact although the style was unknown. Whoever the person had been, they had what looked like personal effects laid to rest with them. The thing that stood out most though was the skeleton’s left arm. It was not skeletal but more metallic. Emerald green in color with raised silver veins. As they looked around at the rest of the skeletons, each and every one had a similar arm although of different colors.” At this point Kajun paused in his telling of the story.

Ialari simply stared at him in silence with a look of complete surprise on her face. For a few moments she was unable to speak. When she finally did, her voice was cracked at first. “It was an isurian ship? They were all dead...but...wait, they were wrapped and laid out with their belongings. There must have survivors at some point to have prepared them.” Ialari wrestled with surprise, sadness and excitement at the story.

Kajun motioned with his hand that there was more to the story.

“Gorvon immediately began to back his way toward the stairs with his remaining crewman in tow. Realizing that they were standing in one massive tomb, he was not about to press his luck and pursue his curiosity. He offered a prayer to Laviku for the souls lost onboard and returned to the hold. There the two men waited out the storm, huddled against a few crates. The storm eventually passed and the two left the hold. The rest of the crew had returned to their boat and waited out the storm there. One of them returned to pick up the two men with the raft. The fishing boat had suffered some minor damage but it was managable. As the raft made its way back, Gorvon noticed the first movement he’d seen on the ship since finding it. On the main deck, while he couldn’t make out too many details, he saw a bald man wearing a long black, sleeveless coat. The man’s left arm was a brilliant blue color that seemed to shine with an inner glow. The man simple watched as the fishermen returned to their boat and set back out for home. This story was told by the other man who remained at Gorvon’s side on the ship. His name was Hafford. The story was shared by the man’s son, a young man by the name of Horice. Hafford died a few years ago while Gorvon preceeded him a couple of years. Horice said they two men had remained friends for long after their encounter with the ship and they often shared the story with anyone who would listen.” Kajun carefully closed the book, his telling of the story having ended.

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Ialari Pythone
I'm Poison.
 
Posts: 615
Words: 923946
Joined roleplay: August 13th, 2009, 3:26 am
Race: Isur
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This Can't Be Happening Part 1

Postby Ialari Pythone on November 1st, 2022, 5:20 am

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Ialari had difficulty processing the story. While it was sad, it was also remarkable. Somewhere, not all that far away, there could exist an isurian ship with a possible survivor. At least that is what she wanted to think since whoever it may be was likely dead already. That is of course if the story were even true.
“I...thank you, Kajun. That is one of the best stories I’ve heard in a long time.” Her mouth was dry as she moved her tongue around and tried to wet it. “Do you think this, Horice, is still alive?”

Kajun looked thoughtful and said, “I do not know. I heard the story from someone who visited Syka earlier this year but they returned to Riverfall after several days; something about just taking a break from things. They heard the story from someone who heard it from Horice. I do not know exactly how old this story is.”

Ialari nodded and thanked Kajun again for the story. The two then continued catching up. A couple of bells went by before Ialari took a break to find something for lunch. She returned to Kajun with a plate of fruit; apples and banannas, and a small bottle of rum and two cups. The two shared in bit of light lunch before they parted ways. Afterwards, Ialari decided to make her way back to her rancho. Kajun’s story had her a bit scattered in her thoughts and she thought it best to attempt some meditation in hopes of righting herself. It was not everyday she heard a ghost story like that involving isur. She hadn’t realized how much time she’d spent with Kajun until midday had already come.

As she walked the beach back the to rancho, Ialari tried focusing on finding things she could use for philtering and potion ingrediants. As she searched, she couldn’t shake the strange feelings she had after hearing the story. There was definitely something to it. The familiar feeling of connection was unshakeable. After years spent in the Ukalas, she’d become more and more attuned to how interconnected things were. She could feel these connections, sometimes without even having to focus on them. They took many forms. Sometimes they were connections between ideas and thoughts that allowed her to analyze possible outcomes of actions. Othertimes, they manifested as physical and even spiritual links between objects, people and places that she could feel. With these, she would get flashes of familiarity that would manifest in her vision as threads; lines, points and patterns that spread out and linked to others in a great web. If she focused on those threads, she could sometimes follow them to where they connected but usually she became lost in the infinite number of them. Within her Dominion, these connective threads were easier to perceive and follow as the entire space was a part of her. She could manipulate those threads and embrace their connections as if they were an extension of her mind and body. Outside of the Dominion and the Ukalas, it was far more difficult; if she tried too focus too hard, she would lose sight and the headaches that followed were crippling. It was the balance of having too much power at one’s fingertips.

The connection Ialari felt to Kajun’s story though was strong though she dared not yet attempt to follow them. They were still fresh in her mind and the distance between those threads was still too great. Struggling to put her thoughts aside, she tried to focus again on gathering ingrediants. She stopped many times to pick up pieces of shells which could be used to make paint. While not something she would use much with philtering or poisoncraft, the paint made from the shells would aid her in her work with Dominion. Drawing the patterns needed to craft Dominion doors required a good amount of paint mixed with a bit of her blood.

As for philtering, she was able to find a few washed up jellyfish and some seaweed. While initially, she wasn’t sure what she would use them for, she was always experimenting and trying to find ways to create philters mixed with magical and divine properties. Those were rather unpredictable in what ingrediants would blend well together.

Eventually she made her way back to the rancho where she offloaded her finds onto the table. She took a little time to properly prepare and store the various items. When she had finished with that, Ialari made preparations for a meditative session where she would ponder and attempt to commune with the divine on what she’d felt in regards to the story.

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Remade In My Dominion!

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Granted Flashback Threads between 510 and 512 by Tarot.
User avatar
Ialari Pythone
I'm Poison.
 
Posts: 615
Words: 923946
Joined roleplay: August 13th, 2009, 3:26 am
Race: Isur
Character sheet
Storyteller secrets
Medals: 7
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Overlored (1) Riverfall Seasonal Challenge (1)
2013 Mizahar NaNo Winner (1) 2012 Mizahar NaNo Winner (1)

This Can't Be Happening Part 1

Postby Ialari Pythone on November 1st, 2022, 5:21 am

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First she laid out several pillows to sit on. They were silk stuffed with feathers. That was one thing she did feel thankful for as far as the overabundance of birds around Syka; there was no shortage of feathers. Next she retrieved a candle from her pack that hung over one of the ranchos provided chairs. The candle was made from beeswax mixed with a bit of her blood and pinch of powedered bone she’d collected years ago during her time in Sahova. There was no shortage of bones in that place. Having spent time as an interrogator of rebel Nuit who’d attempted a coup against the Archmage who lead the island, she collected quite a bit of material from her work. It was a dark time in her life but one that produced quite a bit of results coming in many forms.

The symbolism of the candle was essential. Life was represented by the beeswax while the bone powder represented death. Her blood bound it together and created the pathway for balance between the two. She placed the candle in a small dish and set it on the floor in front of where she would sit on the pillows. Using a tinder box, she struck some steel and flint together until it sparked a flame in the box which she used to light the candle. Setting those things aside, she sat down and got comfortable on the pillows. Her legs were crossed and her hands lay comfortable at her sides. She looked into the flame of the candle and focused her thoughts on it. Focusing on the flame and how it moved; flickering and dancing on the candle’s wick, Ialari imagined the flame as a source of security amidst the surrounding darkness of her mind. She pictured stress, concerns, fear, desire, any disrupting emotion as an insect. As these insects got too close to the flame, she imagined them sparking and exploding in a single tiny silent explosion.

As her disrupting thoughts and emotions, one by one, popped away, she turned her attention back to the flame.

“Lady Dira.” She whispered aloud.

The flame of the candle lost all of its color and became white with tiny flickers of red. The sickle-shaped mark on the palm of her hand began to throb softly.

“Milady, I am troubled by the feelings I have after hearing my friend’s story about the wrecked isurian ship and the strange figure that was seen onboard. While it was just a story, I feel that there is much more to it...it’s a feeling that I cannot shake. I seek guidance.” Ialari embraced the feeling in her hand as she continued to focus on the flame.

After a moment of silence, she saw movement out of the corner of her eye. Slowly she turned her gaze from the candle to the source of the movement. It was then that she saw the two large jackals, one with fur pure white in color, the other black. The messengers of Dira, Before and After.

The jackals casually paced in a circle around her, their eyes always on her. Though their mouths did not move, Ialari heard their voices, deep and hollow. The first to speak, the jackal in white, Before, “Ialari, your prayer has been heard and I have been sent with a message. Your feelings are indeed justified. The story you were told happened and the ship exists. The reason you sense the strong connection is because one of the things you’ve been searching for resides there. The why and how is not for us to say. You will need to speak with the Architect for it is he who is responsible.”

Before stopped its pacing and sat down across the candle from Ialari. The black jackal, After, continued to pace as its words echoed in Ialari’s mind. “There is another message to be delivered that is not a part of that. Something has happened; something...unexpected. Do not forget who you are.” After took its placed next to before. Their stares were deep and filled with meaning even if Ialari did not quite grasp the full nature of that meaning. Within a few breaths, the white flame flickered and died as the candle had stopped burning; the wax completely melted. The two jackals seemed to evaporate, becoming trails of steam and then vanishing entirely.

Blinking several times, Ialari wiped her eyes with her hand and looked around. Night had fallen; while it did not feel like much time passed, it had in fact been hours. Sore from sitting so long, Ialari stretched out her legs and tried to return circulation to them. Her stomach lightly cramped from hunger. Confused by the message she’d received from Dira, she carefully took to her feet and walked over to the counter where she retrieved a bit of salted fish and another bananna. As she proceeded to take a few slow, steady bites she washed them down with a few gulps of rum from her almost empty bottle. Both of the messages the jackals had delivered were more than troubling. The story about the ship, it was not just a story and the reason she was feeling so tied to it was because one of the pieces of her broken soul that she’d been searching for was there. The revelation that Izurdin was involved somehow was also confusing. It was the second message however that filled her with greater concern. Something had happened but no information on what.

“Well, not exactly how I thought this day would turn out…” She said aloud as she took the last gulp of rum. Unusually drained from her prayer session and the otherwise enjoyable day, Ialari undressed herself and prepared for bed hoping that the next day would bring more answers and perhaps less confusion. Although in her experience, that generally was not the case.

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Remade In My Dominion!

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Granted Flashback Threads between 510 and 512 by Tarot.
User avatar
Ialari Pythone
I'm Poison.
 
Posts: 615
Words: 923946
Joined roleplay: August 13th, 2009, 3:26 am
Race: Isur
Character sheet
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Medals: 7
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