Raise Your Glass

[Yeva]

45 Ashan 721

Finding Oram hadn't been difficult per se, but it had been a lot of asking around. Yeva, who wasn't quite experienced in hunting down anything, failed to understand how much effort it would be (and for a rumor, no less!), but after spotting his appearance at the Cylus Dusk, she felt it was long overdue that she get reacquainted with her fellow Sojourn. She had requested his presence in Almund - a settlement Yeva wasn't the biggest fan of, having been attacked within its dark streets an arc prior - but felt more confident with a familiar face to travel with. Once you face near death experience with someone, you were bonded... Right?

"Good mornin'," she greeted with a yawn, pushing off from the street sign she leaned against to stave off the early sleepiness. She had felt it important to try to search out their answers in the early hour, before the city awoke and wondered why they were snooping around a holy site... Well...

'A supposed holy site,' she thought. "How was the trip?" Yeva listened to any details or lack thereof, beginning to walk down the road leading to Almund's city proper, unfolding a map that had been twisted in the pocket of her coat. Outside of the creases of the folding, it was clear she rarely used it. It had been a souvenir from a class research trip and nearly forgotten for the majority since. Yeva shuffled slowly, staring at the paper for longer than should have been necessary. She lifted her head and seemed to study the street, then turned, eyed bouncing up and down. The gates were there... They were here... and... the tree.... should have been...

Yeva felt her cheeks flush as she rushed to turn the map right side up before clearing her throat and pretending to ignore it. Useless thing.

Time for a smooth transition of conversation, "So, now that we have a chance to talk," with a long stretch of her arms and shoulders, fingers reaching towards the sky, Yeva felt her limbs heat and she shook away the fatigue, "I have news. And I think you'll be particularly interested."

"You remember Dari?" Of course he did, surely! "Last arc, he was telling me about these Scalvoran customs, like gift giving on your birth trial. Well, now that I'm back in town, I decided to go to the library and do some research. Just for fun, ya' know?"

Because what was more fun than being surrounded by thousands of books?

"Anyway, I was reading about the World's End festival," her voice had taken on an excited bounciness and she stared at him expectantly. Yeva wasn't sure what Oram's background was, or if he had always lived in Scalvoris, but for the sake of her story, continued her eager disclosure,"That's today! And! Guess what!"

She waited to see what he would say and then sighed, "Apparently on special occasions, people will come to the Glass Tree here in Almund and leave gifts - like trinkets ooor... I don't know, snacks, and ribbons... er, I'm actually am a little fuzzy on the details..." she admitted sheepishly, chewing her lip before shrugging it off, "Well, the gifts are supposedly left for the Immortals,"

Yeva handed over the map, giving him unspoken permission to guide them instead while she filled him in on her research investigation, "Look up, what do you see?"

Fat clouds lingered, patched with dark grey. The promise of a real tempest. Since getting caught in the hailstorm on the way to Havardr, Yeva had become much more attentive to the signs of weather, "Rain! Oram, when it rains on the World's End festival - and it will - they say the Immortal's are watching. That's a two for one."

"Because, when I was telling ChiChi about my reading, she said there's a rumor that Cassion apparently leaves his wishes in the tree. And since they're buddy-buddy, and we're both blessed, we could totally find it before everyone gets there today," Yeva seemed very pleased with her detective work, even if half of it was based on stories and speculation, "So, you in? C'mon, you can't tell me it doesn't sound a little fun. Like a scavenger hunt."

[Oram Mednix]

…

Spotting Yeva on the street, leaned against a signpost, Oram’s first feeling was of relief at not having to ferret her out of the bowels of Almund, nor search for her in a bustling common room of one of its inns, as he had Balthazar and Vaid’ner the last time he was here; the traveler did not enjoy the town’s thronging streets and alleys, and having his team of animals in tow made the prospect of plying those ways looking for someone he hadn’t seen in an arc that much less appealing.

When Yeva asked how the trip was, the first to respond was Ornot, one of Oram’s two pack goats, who proceeded to recite the litany of outrages and injuries he had suffered on the journey from Scalvoris. Oram shot the animal a quick look, then gave Yeva a smile. ”Don’t listen to him; the journey was fine. Decent enough weather.” He mimicked her glance at the sky. ”Looks like I arrived just in time.”

Oram looked back down to regard Yeva with a more serious expression now. Supposedly, those marked by Cassion often found themselves ensnared in the wildest of stories, and he had heard some wild ones about Yeva in the arc since the disaster on Faldrass. He wanted to ask her about those, but before he could she launched into some confusing talk about Darius and birth trials and libraries and the World’s End festival and ”…guess what?” The question distracted him from his own intended line of questioning as he tried to puzzle out from Yeva’s previous chatter what he was supposed to guess.

The hunter frowned. He didn’t like riddles. After a trill or two, he ventured: ”That the World’s End festival is on your birth trial? Happy Birth Trial?” He shrugged helplessly. But Yeva had already plunged on with her talk about ChiChi and the Glass Tree. Apparently, she wanted to visit the tree today because something to do with Cassion and the rain and ribbons. She thought Cassion would grant her a wish today because her birth trial fell on World’s End and it was raining?

Well, the upshot was, she wanted to go visit the tree, and for some reason, she wanted Oram, as a fellow Sojourner and someone she knew and…trusted?, to go with her. Yeva’s disjointed explanation had sparked his interest, even if not his comprehension. It was an odd-sounding adventure, but that wasn’t necessarily a bad thing.

The traveler watched patiently for a few trills as the woman fumbled with a map and tried to orient herself to it. Finally, he held up a reassuring hand to her and nodded his head down the road. ”I don’t imagine the place will be hard to find. A famous glass tree in the heart of town? We’ll figure it out. If not, we’ll ask somebody. So, let’s go, I guess?”

Supposedly, those marked by Cassion often found themselves ensnared in the wildest stories. Were he and Yeva about to find themselves ensnared in another one? Oram wondered, as they set off together into Almund.

[Yeva]

45 Ashan 721

"Actually my birth trial is in Vhalar," she clarified, her mood quickly tempered by the apprehension to her own enthusiasm. Thinking about it now, she might have had him come all this way at the crack of dawn for... well, a seek and find. It would be understandable if he was a little less than thrilled. She cleared her throat, briefly chastising herself for not offering breakfast, or at the very least, some coffee, "Thanks, though. I..." she looked up the path, "I wasn't able to celebrate it this year."

She left it at that. Oram nodded at the road, his calm approach a nice balance to her curious nature.

"I don’t imagine the place will be hard to find. A famous glass tree in the heart of town? We’ll figure it out. If not, we’ll ask somebody. So, let’s go, I guess?”

I guess.

They were clearly different people, "Finding the tree will probably be the easiest part. I've been to Almund once before on a university trip," Yeva began to meander down the road. She hadn't appreciated the venture, having been used as fish bait for a particularly grating sailor and the memory of it brought a tension to her shoulders. That had been an unfortunate evening that ended in a bit of trauma and so the further they moved down the dark streets, the more she found her attention lingering at the shadows of the alleys and less on the road in front of her. Once or twice she thought she saw movement in their shadows and skittered closer to her companion, "Have you always lived around Scalvoris, Oram?"

Yeva grew quiet again as they winded around the corners and through the shop buildings, stacked and structured from pieces of old ships, giving a weathered appearance in the early morning light. Some of the street signs were faded, the names, slathered in bold white paint, were hardly legible now. The medic squinted, trying to find a pattern on the way to the city's center, and wondered if it really was possible Cassion - or any Immortal - would take the time to leave a trinket in a tree. It seemed awfully mundane for god to do, but who was she to judge? Maybe that's the point, she thought, Hiding in plain sight. Doubts began to creep into her mind, but she opted to approach the trial with optimism. It was a day of celebration and the little trip would allow for them to learn more about one another.

Oram was already revealing many things about his character, whether he knew it or not, "Look! There!"

Yeva pointed. Sure enough where the road split, winding in a circle sat a small clearing between the cluster of shops and ramshackle apartments, and in its center, a great oak stretched towards the sky like a hand reaching from the earth. Around its branches were a collection of ribbons, notes and curious ornaments - hundreds, likes rings on its fingers. Her mouth dropped and she stepped forward slowly, in awe.

"It's bigger than I thought, it'd be," she muttered, her neck tilting back to see it disperse into the sky. Not to mention the amount of offerings the had been collected, some of its thinner sticks straining beneath the weight of the gifts. If Cassion left his wishes it would be like finding a needle in a haystack - clever.

"Well," she looked at Oram, beginning to shrug off her pack as the wind rustled the strings of colored ribbon, "I guess we could get started," a moment of hesitation, "Should we pray or... I don't know.." she stepped closer to the tree and reached out to touch its bark.

[Oram Mednix]

Dir Cashun, plz send nelss.

Oram nodded in response to Yeva’s question. ”Born and raised here. My people mostly live in and around Viden, and we get folks in our camp coming from and going to there, but I guess you could say I’m one of the fixtures.” He shot his fellow Sojourn a grin. ”Odd, eh? The most homebody of a group of so-called ‘travelers’ and the Wanderer singles out me. Since I hunt, I like to keep working places I know, rather than having to learn a whole new territory from scratch. And I guess I wander around the Sweetvine enough, and see enough new places that way, to scratch any itch I feel in my feet. To date, at least.”

Speaking of unfamiliar places, it seemed like Yeva was uneasy here in Almund; she looked about apprehensively as they went. She mentioned only having been here once before. ”I’ve been here a handful of times before,” the hunter offered. Specifically, this was the third or fourth time he had come here in the last couple arcs. ”Can’t say Almund and I know each other well, but we aren’t total strangers, either.”

Trusting to intuition and luck as much as memory, Oram wandered the streets until he and Yeva found themselves in what was, presumably, the heart of town, for there was the tree. He saw it about the same time Yeva did. Regarding its glistening and festooned branches, Oram was glad for the overcast weather; the tree must be dazzling in full sunlight. And it was large. How had he not seen it before?

Oram rarely set foot in temples or other holy places, so he didn’t really know how he was supposed to feel or act. It didn’t help that the tree seemed out of place somehow in this setting: a small park plot ringed by squalid city things. It was the sort of place one might expect to find a gaudy fountain, or the pigeon-bombarded statue of some general Oram hadn’t heard of, rather than a holy tree. While he was considering what to make of the place, Yeva started taking off her pack and asked if they should pray or something. Oram shrugged. What would Cassion want of them, assuming He wanted anything other than to be left alone? Man of Roads, acquaint us with your will, the hunter thought. That was a prayer, wasn’t it? It would have to do, he thought, as he neared the trunk of the tree.

There were colored ribbons and other things hanging from the tree everywhere. The easier-to-reach branches bent under their weight. Uneasily, Oram wondered whether the branches shattered like glass if they broke. But seeing the ribbons made him realize something. He had not brought any sort of dedicated gift. However…

He walked back towards Wether and started rummaging through some of the bags the goat bore. ”I have colored ribbon, it turns out,” he declared, as he started to fish out a handful. ”Believe it or not, they are useful for trapping muskrat. Muskrats forage by sight, and are attracted to colorful things.” He offered a fistful of brightly-colored ribbons to Yeva, mostly varieties red and yellow, in case she wanted any. For himself, he would tie a couple ribbons near the base of one of the tree branches, as close to the trunk as he could get so as not to weigh the fragile-looking ends.

The hunter stepped back towards the tree and looked up at the riot of trinkets that smothered its boughs. ”Do you think all these were left just in the last trial or so?” he asked, amazed. The tree must have been mobbed at some point, yet right now he and Yeva were alone. He began to examine some of the objects in the branches more carefully. Oram could just about imagine Cassion posing as one of his own petitioners for amusement, hiding his “wishes” among the other gifts to himself for others to puzzle out. That gave him an idea, actually.

”Hey, Yeva,” he called out, but in a hushed tone: ”Perhaps you could read some of the written notes or petitions in the branches. I mean, they’re a way of making wishes, right? I can just about see the Wanderer hiding his own wishes in here with all the others, you know? Leaving folks like us to suss out which is which?” It seemed like a long shot, but it was the best he could come up with on the spot.

Letters weren’t Oram’s thing, so he focused on the trinkets instead, things that might be messages in the form of icons and symbols rather than the written word.

[Yeva]

45 Ashan 721

"Really?" Yeva asked, trying to imagine a muskrat interested in colored ribbon. In fact, she tried to imagine a muskrat at all, wondering if she had ever seen one in person, "I've never been hunting... In fact... Well, I've never even killed anything." It was possible that admittance would sound terribly spoiled to a man who used his resources to live off the land, but she didn't think Oram would judge her too terribly. He seemed a sensible sort, at least to her, "Is it... hard? I mean..." the question sounded stupid to her ears after she had asked it, and oddly personal, "Never mind. You don't have to answer that. That's probably a silly question."

Yeva opted for a yellow ribbon and reached for her pack, just as Oram began to tie his towards the base of the great tree. When she found what she was looking for - a ribbon of her own and a shade of cerulean blue - she turned back to her traveling companion who was admiring the trinkets.

"Do you think all these were left just in the last trial or so?"

"Oh no," she shook her head, circling a bit to try and find the best vantage point for her own offering. She began to weave the two colors together, "From what I read, it's something of a commonality for people to come and leave their gifts throughout the arc, usually to appease the Immortal's and keep them from meddling," she smiled, "The tome's words - not mine."

Yeva wanted to hang her ribbon higher up and now looked for a way to climb the structure, "Of course, people come more on trials like this - festivals, holidays, religious celebrations... I imagine we won't be the only ones visiting once the city starts waking up. Best to hurry."

Oram shared his thoughts and she smiled wider. She could see it too - Cassion, disguised (or maybe not, he was bold), climbing in the tree and hiding his wishes, then sharing stories (although some might just call it rumors), to see who would not only chase the story but also who could find its truth, "This will be fun," she repeated, agreeing, "I'll read what I can and if we fail, we can always just grab some lunch; Care to give me a lift?"

Yeva was a small woman, reminded of her size as she tried to reach towards one of the inner branches and came up short. The option of running and jumping felt too precarious, least she disturb the tree so much, causing trinkets, ribbons and bobbles slipped to fall. Waiting for Oram's assistance, she took a deep breath and began to climb, carefully minding the ornaments.

"What do you think happens when the tree fills up?" Was it possible the Immortal's really did clear it, taking what they wanted and always leaving enough room for more gifts to be added? Or did someone in the city come and pull things down, giving a clean slate once every few arcs?

[Oram Mednix]

Second word…one syllable…sounds like “meep”?

Oram smiled at Yeva’s question about hunting. To so many townies, it sounded like such an exotic thing, as if he’d just told them he lived in an underwater castle with the Mermaid Queen. To him, the hunt was as much a part of his trial-to-trial existence as putting on pants. Which, now that he thought of it, might sound exotic to a Mermaid Queen.

”Wish I had a nel for every time I’ve been asked something like that about hunting,” he answered, amused as much at his own idea as by Yeva’s question. ”But no, it’s not hard for me, any more than something you’ve done all your life would be for you. I suppose I can see how someone not used to the life might think so, though.”

Oram agreed with Yeva about hurrying. He disliked crowds, and was sure the tree would attract one, especially on a holiday like this one.

The hunter was happy to help the woman up. He had never gotten the hang of the whole hand-stirrup thing, so instead he got on his knees, facing and braced against the tree-trunk, tapping himself on the shoulder to indicate how he wanted Yeva to climb on. Then, with a grunt of effort, and hopefully with the lithe redhead using the trunk for balance herself as he heaved upwards, he raised himself laboriously to his feet. Yeva was a good head shorter than he and slightly-built, so it did not overly tax his strength to lift her. Still, once she had found a branch to clamber onto, he found himself breathing heavily for several trills.

Once he had caught his breath and was certain that Yeva wasn’t going to drop out of the tree, Oram began regarding the various glass ornaments to which the tree owed its name. From childhood he had pictured a tree literally made of glass, and even now as a man nearing thirty arcs he had been somewhat disappointed that the Glass Tree just turned out to be a large, ornament-laden oak tree. But the ornaments themselves were just as wondrous in their own way. They came in many shapes and sizes; turtles and owls were common images, and simple spheres even more so.

A striking number of them contained sand of varying colors. Bits of red sand were by far the most common, along with green. The sands of Scalvoris came in many colors, and if one knew enough lore, one might work out where a pilgrim had come from, or at least where the sand they had put in their glass vessel had come from. ”Look for any with orange sand in ‘em,” he called up to Yeva. ”I’ll bet those were left by folks from Faldrass, maybe even refugees.”

There were more exotic sands as well, he knew. Blue and purple, even gold and silver. And there were legends and stories associated with them, as often as not. Oram’s eyes looked around for hints of those rarer hues. ”If you see any gold ones,” he called up again, ”let me know. There’s all sorts of legends about the gold sand, you know. Such as that the sight of it as they neared the island is what drew the Pirate Lords here, thinking it was real gold. Or that the sand was buried pirate treasure turned to sand by some Immortal or spirit the Pirate Lords had angered.”

Oram paused when Yeva asked about what would happen if or when the tree filled up. Looking around at the bonanza of ornaments, ribbons, and notes, he couldn’t help but wonder if they might all find out sooner rather than later. ”Not sure,” he called out, just as his eyes lighted upon a strange-shaped ornament filled with what looked to be white sand. ”Perhaps the end of Idalos? Or maybe Moseke comes along and switches out the tree for a new one?”

Peering closer at the glass shape, Oram saw that it was in the form of a hill or mountain. Details were not easy to pick out, but it looked like there was some sort of structure shown as built into the side of the mountain. The sand itself, upon closer inspection, wasn’t just white, but had metallic glints to it as well, as if there were filings of silver mixed in. ”Have you found anything interesting up there yet?” Oram called up. ”I may have down here.”

[Yeva]

45 Ashan 721

Oram had such a practical approach to his hunting. She truly admired his capability to live off the land, "I suppose most things get easier with practice. Sometimes I wish I knew more about that sort of life." There was something so alluring about being able to grow her food, or catch it. While handling raw meat often reminded her of the bodies she stitched up at the clinic, eventually Yeva wanted to travel outside of Scalvoris. That would likely mean going on her own. Balthazar and Elisa and Darius were all busy on Faldrass. ChiChi was a lady now. Yeva couldn't just ask anyone to drop their lifestyle and come with her on thej road. That meant a lot of alone time and a chance to hone skills she had otherwise neglected. Knowing how to feed herself on more than just hard cheese, dried meats and preserves had a lot of promise to increase her quality of life when wandering to the next city...

Where would I go?

Oram lowered himself to his knees and Yeva followed the movement of his hands. She nodded in understanding and reached out to touch the bark of the tree, pushing off the hunter's shoulder to get enough leverage to grab a fat branch and used it to pull her lower body high enough to hook her boot and shimmy for more leverage. She struggled to get a good handle that would allow her to sit up and managed after a bit of fussing. Her branch rustled, ornaments tinkling, ribbons swaying.

Yeva stilled before temping fate. Once the adornments had resettled, she twisted, reaching up and out towards the closest mass of offerings, "I think I see what you mean," Some were little more than small vials of sand or shells. Others held shimmering liquid, like potions and tonics. Many glass decorations, hand blown or painted clung to the branch's fingers. In a few instance, although not as many as she would have thought, wooden figurines peeked from the leaves. Even in the middle of winter, it held its color.

Oram's story about the gold sand was fascinating and she paused, captivated, "Do you know anything else about them? Everyone's always talking pirate this, pirate that, but it's hard to imagine that marauders are the ones who brought civilized government to the island."

There had been a pact. But what that meant was lost to the young woman.

Yeva continued to climb, delicately twisting and double checking her footing as she reached up to draw herself higher. A few times her overcoat snagged on the bark and so she shrugged it off, watching as it fell towards the ground and splashed color upon the grey snow and gnarled roots.

She continued to sort through the tchotchkes, dipping her fingers between glass figurines of dancers and painted metal plates that glinted copper when her knuckles brushed against them. Someone had just hung a fork from a piece of ribbon and Yeva snorted at its simplicity.

Oram called to her, asking if she had found anything interesting.

"Hmm, don't know," she called back, finding a small glass bottle and tilting it to see if it held any secret message before continuing her careful twisting through the branches to lower herself enough to reach down with open fingers, "Can I see?"

[Oram Mednix]

Aye, there be avast amount of legends about Pirate Lords! Or should I say: there arrrre?

Oram grunted as Yeva mounted his shoulders. She was not a small child, he reminded himself, although she was lighter than most men. Glancing up as best he could with his face practically kissing the tree trunk, he saw that she was close to getting a good grip on a low branch, so with a heave he lifted himself about two handspans, which was just enough to give Yeva the purchase she needed to climb into the branches. Oram watched the redhead for a few trills. She was a good climber, better than himself, he realized with a touch of envy.

He had just turned his attention back to the trinkets and ornaments before him when Yeva asked him about the pirate lords. He mused for a moment. ”I grew up here,” he said thoughtfully. ”So I’ve spent most of my life technically a subject of the pirate lords, though they typically left my folk alone. And yet I know little about them. Not much more than anyone who lives here does: there were always twenty of them. They swore a pact, the terms of which only they knew. Their Pact was supposedly struck on the first trial of Vhalar. They ruled here exactly one hundred arcs, to the trial. They differed greatly as individuals, though they were all brutal and dangerous to deal with. And they did try to govern the place. Scalvoris was never completely lawless. Not complete-”

Oram broke off as something large fluttered at the edge of his vision. Turning quickly to look, he saw that it was a coat fluttering towards the ground. Reflexively he snatched at it, getting a hold of it with one hand before it landed, though he did not prevent its hem from touching the ground. Looking up, he saw that Yeva had shed the coat. Since she continued to search the branches untroubled, he figured she had done so on purpose. Shaking the dirt off the hem, he walked towards Mule. ”I’m going to stow this, if you don’t mind” he called out, ”before one of my goats decides it would make a nice snack.” After stowing the coat, the hunter returned to the tree, to regard once more the odd ornament that had caught his attention.

Hearing a heavy rustling above, Oram looked up to see Yeva perched right over him, asking if she could see the ornament. Taking it carefully off its branch, he handed it to Yeva. ”The ornament looks like mountain or hill with a fortress or something built into its side. I think it could be Slag’s Deep,” he offered, as he handed it to her. Retracting his fingers once he was sure hers had gotten a hold of the object, he pointed out: ”The sand is unusual. Sort of silvery-white. I have no idea if that’s the sort of sand they mine in Slag’s Deep or not.”

It sounded odd, even as he said it; and yet, he was pretty sure it was right. But why would somebody shape an ornament like Slag’s Deep to leave here, on the Glass Tree? He looked at the other glass ornaments curiously. ”I wonder how many of these ornaments are made from Egilrun glass. A lot of them, I bet. Maybe even most of ‘em.” He fell silent, feeling suddenly ill-at-ease for some reason. He waited for Yeva to say something. Hopefully something upbeat and encouraging.

[Doran]

Oram:

Knowledge:
[Athletics] Keeping your balance while somebody climbs up your back.
[Athletics] Catching a falling coat before it hits the ground.
[Detection] Noticing a unique decoration amid a forest of trinkets.
[Investigation] Inferring things about people based on the sort offerings they leave.
[Navigation] In a city, asking locals for directions may be more useful than a map.
[Psychology] If somebody seems unconcerned about dropping something, they may have done it on purpose.
[Storytelling] Telling a story about an object to pique somebody’s interest in it.
[Storytelling] Describing your own experience of an historical event or period.
[Strength] Helping lift somebody onto a tree branch.

Loot: -
Lost: -
Wealth: -
Injuries: -
Renown: -
Magic XP: -
Skill Review: Appropriate to level.
Points: 15

Yeva:

Knowledge: -
Loot: -
Lost: -
Wealth: -
Injuries: -
Renown: -
Magic XP: -
Skill Review: -
Points: 15

- - -

Comments: I’d almost forgotten that Yeva has Cassion’s mark as well. It makes sense for her to get reacquainted with Oram after they had faced a near-death experience (Faldrass?) together.

I like that you didn’t just make it a reunion thread though, but used a festival as a backdrop. I wonder if Cassion really leaves his wishes in the tree. Trying to find them is a great idea!

I really enjoyed the brief scene with Ornot. Oram’s goats always add a lot to his threads in my opinion. When Oram recited the litany of outrages and injuries he had suffered, I couldn’t help but smirk.

I agree with Yeva – the two of them are clearly different people, but that’s part of what made this thread fun to read in my opinion. It might be boring if they were completely the same!

It’s a pity that this thread was never finished. I really wanted to know if Yeva and Oram would find Cassion’s wishes or not. Reading about them examining the tree was still entertaining though!

Yeva, if you ever come back and want knowledges, send me a PM (and let me know which skills you used), and I’ll edit this review.

Enjoy your rewards!