• Graded • Sing into the Storm

[Krest]

32nd of Saun, Arc 714

Her scales were shimmering that night...

Krest pressed his tankard of beer up against his lips, drowning his memories in drink. A dark and bitter brew, he screwed his face tight as the alcohol burned the back of his throat. He'd take the pain though, he wasn't drinking it for the flavor. It could have been his fifth or sixth drink, but Krest couldn't find it in him to care. He'd drain the tavern dry if he had to. As long as the beer kept his thoughts quiet, he'd keep drinking. Anything was better than being left alone with his memories. Memories of her.

A soft smile and pleading eyes...

No. No, no, no. None of that. The Mer tipped his tankard farther back, finishing the black and burning drink as easily as if it were seawater. He slammed the cup down, empty eyes turning towards the bartender. The man looked nervously at him, anxiety apparent in his stiff movements. Krest bared his razored teeth in displeasure, not bothering to use their mangled monkey-talk to order another drink. Angry intent rolled off his thoughts like wine-red waves, sailing clear from his mind and crashing into the human's. With a start, the man registered the mental command. He moved quickly to fetch Krest another drink, not wishing to anger the Mer anymore than he already was.

A small and seedy place, Krest had chosen this tavern for a reason. It was remote, attached to some small fishing village far from Tidewhisper territory. These folk had likely only ever seen Mer in the sea, never striding alongside them on land. They were simple folk, too scared to take any action against him. Their lives were small. Soft. Meaningless. It was no wonder to Krest why his kind had taken to raiding them. Their weakness invited attack.

Krest chuckled darkly to himself, absent-mindely spinning his empty tankard in his clawed hands. Too much Tidewhisper in him tonight. Wisp would have boxed his gills for thinking like that.

"They're more similar to us than we'd like to admit..."

With a clatter, Krest's cup slipped from his hand. The few patrons in the bar snapped their heads in the Mer's direction, but he was too lost in his thoughts to notice or care. The memory of her pierced through the drunken barriers he had been building, and in his mind's eye he could see her as if she was in front of him. Golden scales alight with the moon's rays. Shining smile as she stared into his eyes, bright amber meeting dark coal. Hair gently shifting with the push and pull of the ocean. Voice as lilting as raindrops against the surface of the sea, yet carrying with it the resolute strength of a crashing wave. She was his. His Wisp. And he was hers. Above all else, he belonged to her.

The ramshackle walls of the tavern faded, and Krest found himself surrounded by the sea-green of ocean water; trapped in a living memory.

He thoughts were bright and hopeful, and she urge him to come with her. She circled him with unearthly grace, her long tail playfully flicking behind her. With every turn, she trailed her thin fingers across Krest's scaled chest, making the Mer's heart hammer in his chest.

Krest took her hands into his own, gaze dark and serious. She had to have known how much she was asking of him. To leave everything else behind, his tribe and duty, for her? He ran his finned hands over the spikes of bone which crowned his head.

He shook his head, revealing his intent through action and thought.

A smirk played across her face, and she drew the male Mer closer to her. She wrapped her hands around the back of his neck, resting her forehead against his. Her heartbeat fell in rhythm with his own, the music of their bodies pounding out a steady sound in the stillness of the ocean. She ran her fingers against the back of his neck, and Krest hummed with pleasure. Her hands slipped lower, scratching across the fullness of his back. Fingertips trailing fire across his scales, she pulled her head back to look fully at the Mer. Images of the two crossing the ocean together flashed through Krest's mind. They were singing, laughing, kissing, and loving together. He looked down to her, reaching out to her mind with images of his own. Tidewhispers streaking through the dark ocean, with harpoons in hand. Their bloody bodies floating aimlessly, hands clasped together as they sank to the abyss. Krest knew to leave was to incite Reisah from his tribe. The Tidewhispers did not let go what was theirs.

Wisp's hand crashed against Krest's cheek. The blow stung, but his thoughts still pressed forward. He cared too much about Wisp to put her life at risk. His insistence only arose an even glare from his mate, and she cut through his stubborn mind with a single image.

The two of them, on the surface. The sun was setting in the distance, and they were dancing with legs of their own making. Smiles graced their lips as they held each other.

Krest thought they looked happy. Krest wanted that. Wanted to be with Wisp.

Wanted to be happy.

"Happy? Nae I'm not damn happy. There's a damn Mer in my seat!" An angry growl and a rough hand shook the Mer out of his memory. Krest was ripped from his stool and thrown to the ground. He was greeted by the sight of a rough looking sailor standing above him, hair stained with grey and winkled, wind-blown skin wrapped around his stout body. "Get out of my town, fish-fucker."

Humans. It was their fault he fled his tribe. Their fault he felt a void where love once was. Their fault that Wisp had been ripped away from him! If it wasn't for them, Wisp would have been content with their life under the waves. She would have never felt the need to wander, to experience the world that land-walkers lived in.

She would have been alive.

His heart had felt so empty when he saw her blood stain the ocean red. But now, staring up at sneering figures of men, Krest felt his heart fill. Not with love, as it had once been. No, his heart was filled with rage. With hate.

With spite.

[Krest]

Drunk with beer and hate, Krest rose from the ground like a wild animal. He was never a brawler, preferring to keep his opponents at a distance with his harpoons. The weapon was strapped to his back now, clattering when he moved as if voicing disapproval with the Mer's actions. If he had been thinking, Krest might have reached for it. He might have used it as a threat, even try to deescalate the situation. Wisp would have approved of that. Wisp would have advised mercy.

Wisp wasn't here, and humans didn't deserve her kindness.

Krest was swiftly sent back to the ground, greenish-blue blood falling from his nose as the sailor's fist crashed against it. A smart Mer would have stayed on the ground, perhaps even offer apology. Krest didn't care what a smart Mer would have done. All Krest wanted was to make the man hurt.

The lights which dotted his body flashed dangerously, and Krest sent images of bloody and broken human bodies into the sailor's mind. The sailor paused for a moment, visibly disturbed by the viscera projected into his mind, but long enough for Krest to regain his footing and press the attack. The man went for a left, but his movements were stiff and sluggish even to the drunk Mer. Weaving right, he followed up the opening with a hook to the man’s jaw. The sailor stood tall, maintain his footing but reeling slightly.

Krest didn’t give him room to breathe. He landed one jab, and then two, and then more and more until the man’s face was more bruise than flesh. He beat out a steady staccato as scales met skin, and Krest found his rhythm against this human. He felt skin split underneath his fist, and a broad smile stitched itself across his face as the man finally crashed to the ground. But the Mer didn’t stop there.

Snarling, Krest rushed the now prone man. His taloned feet stamped down hard into the sailor’s throat, and he could feel meaty hands claw desperately at his ankle. The Mer grit his teeth as he felt scales being tore free from his ankle, but he only increased the pressure on the sailor’s windpipe. Slipping his shoulder down, Krest slung the massive t-shaped object that had been hanging from his back free. A twisted, savage looking piece of metal poked out from the barrel of the launcher. The harpoon was set, and Krest managed a shark-like smirk as he pulled the firing string into place. He leveled the point of projectile at the man’s head, finger curled around the trigger.

As he saw blood seep from the wide gashes across the man’s face, all he could think about was the scarlet that sprang from Wisp’s chest. He saw fear flash bright in the sailor’s eyes, but Krest could only see the fear in his lover’s eyes as life left her body. The razored-edged of the harpoon glimmered in the flickering firelight of the tavern, and the image of his love being impaled a spear burned bright in his mind.

The walls of reality wavered again, and Krest found himself slipping back into his waking nightmare.

[Krest]

Wisp shoved him back in anger as Krest hesitated. She was right, he did want a future with her. He wanted his song to join hers forever, to strike out on their own and forge their own current in the shifting seas they called home. The way she made him feel, it competed with song for Krest. For Krest, music was as natural and soothing as breath would be for a surface-dweller. It was his purpose, both what he was born to do and the only thing he ever wanted to do. All Tidewhisper’s learned to sing, to hunt and to trap. Krest song, however, was tied to his soul. It rattled his scales down to their roots and burned to escape past his lips.

Somehow, seeing love and lust spring to life in Wisp’s eyes managed to outdo even that.

Yet, he still did not have an answer for her. On side of the spectrum, there were the Tidewhispers. His tribe. His family. His destiny, if he stayed to claim it. And though now, thanks to his and Wisp’s many trips to the surface, he held reservations about how eagerly they ripped life from landwalkers, Krest still couldn’t help that he felt a sense of loyalty to the eerie collection of Mer. They had given him purpose as Songseeker, taught him the ancient music which his life was now so tightly woven too.

Wisp was the other side of the scale. The counter-argument to everything the Tidewhispers had taught him. She held loyalty to her tribe, but she placed her own interests and curiosities above the collective’s. She did not despise the mortals which breathed air instead of water. She, in fact, enjoyed their presence; finding them and endless source of education. She questioned everything, acted with patience and forethought, and enjoyed life regardless the circumstance. She would be his tribe, his family, and his future if he went with her.

And now, she was angry with him. She did not need to reach out with their shared, racial telepathy to tell him that. It was evident in the way she moved through the water. Sharp, direct movements. An even glare. Krest knew he was in trouble.

His thoughts reached out to her, presenting images of him as Songseeker with her by his side. She countered with pictures of sunsets and strange, foreign lands filled secrets. He imagined the Tidewhispers united under his guidance, and she showed him shifting images of races he had not met. Songs he had not heard. He’d fight back with safety, and she would offer growth. He’d present pride, and she would lay down love.

Krest paused, thoughts growing still. They had reached an ultimatum. If he stayed with his tribe, he would lose her. No more arguments, no more debate, and no more discussion. Decision time.

Though in the end, Krest supposed, it wasn’t really a decision at all.

He held his arms wide open to her, smile as broad and eyes alight. Realizing his decision, Wisp rushed over to where he lover floated. Her hands reached out for the Mer she had chosen and who had chosen her. They were each other’s tribe now. That was all that mattered. Their hearts were joined, and they would weather the storm together.

Scarlet stained the blue-green ocean. Wisp’s momentum slowed, tail twitching in the water. The love that filled her eyes turned to fear, and her smile faded fast. Her hands still reached for Krest, stretching towards the only person that she wanted to spend her life with. They were going to see the world together. Laugh, learn, and love together. What music they would make with each other.

It was poor luck that Krest never got to embrace his lover before a harpoon sprouted from her breast.

Krest couldn’t breathe. His gills tried to take in water but they wouldn’t work. He couldn’t move, muscles yearning to reach out towards the woman he had chosen but shocked into stillness. He couldn’t even think, his mind broken by the sight in front of him. They were supposed to be together. That was the one truth that Krest knew in the void that used to be his heart. Their songs, their souls, were intertwined, a divine duet meant to stretch out across the world together. She couldn’t have been ripped away that easily. No Immortal was this unfair to simply let this happen. He wouldn’t believe it. He refused to accept that everything that he and Wisp shared was all over now. It couldn’t over. It couldn’t. No, no, no, no, no.

It couldn’t be over.

[Krest]

“It’s over! You've won! Now let the man go, please. I won’t even charge you for the drinks!” The bartender’s panicked pleas ripped Krest from his memories and back into the present. The man’s hands were up, shaking slightly with fear. On his knees, the man shuffled over slowly towards the Mer.

Krest felt his heart hammer in his chest, still slowing down from his most recent episode. His own hands were shaking, grasping his harpoon launcher in a death-grip. His eyes were burning for a reason he didn’t understand. Raising an unsteady hand to his cheek, the Mer caught a stray tear before it fell off his face. Tears. He was crying. That was a new experience for the Mer. One can’t cry underwater, the ocean wouldn’t allow it.

A single, ragged sob ripped free from Krest’s chest. His whole body shuddered with the effort, muscles unused to accommodating for the heaving air that shook his aquatic frame. He ran a clawed hand across his face, catching anymore stray tears that threated to slip free.

He still had the sailor under his feet, the man in too much pain to register much of what was happening. Krest could still pull the trigger. It was his kind’s fault that Wisp had died. If they hadn’t aroused her curiosity, she’d still be convincing him to explore the ocean’s depths with her. If humans had just kept to their own, respected their borders, Krest and Wisp would have never traded fins for feet to discover what secrets these surface-dwellers held. They would have lived happily, either among the Tidewhispers or exploring the sea. They would have been together, their songs ringing out eternal. They had a whole life they could have lived. It was his kind’s fault that they didn’t.

A twitch of the finger, and it would be over. Quicker than the man deserved. Kinder than any human had earned.

Wisp wouldn’t have wanted that. She never cared about what anyone deserved. No, she only ever cared about what was kind. What was just and right.

Stepping off the sailor, Krest still shook as he stood above his great work. The tavern was a mess, scattered drinks and turned over tables littering the tiny building. The bartender was still on his knees, but his hands were now clasped in a prayer. His frantic mutterings filled the otherwise quiet air, only to be interrupted by occasional sputtering cough from the man on the floor. The sailor was bloodied, but still breathing. Conscious as well, to the best of Krest’s knowledge.

The Mer took slow steps to the door, feet dragging on the rough wood beneath him. He had come to the surface to escape the pain of his lover’s passing, but that phantom seemed intent on haunting his every move. He couldn’t drown his sorrows, and his sorrows were far too good at drowning him.

“Where you ‘fink you’re going?” The sailor had picked himself up and found a knife to brandish towards Krest. He was wobbling on his feet, but dangerous intent lurked in his eyes. The Mer breathed deep, hand on the frame of the door. He had enough of surface-dwellers, and any patience he had was exhausted

“What? You gonna cry some more, fish-fucker?”

Krest was moving before he was thinking. The tremors that had shook his body were replaced by an easy, graceful movement. He placed the butt of his harpoon launcher against his shoulder, the weapon still held taught by the firing string. With a click, the harpoon sailed free from the weapon, steel shrieking through the air. The point of the projectile easily cut through the cloth of the sailor’s pants. There was a beat of silence, and then a bloodcurdling scream filled the air.

Wisp wouldn’t have approved, but the man would live. Probably.

Still, even as the Mer walked out of the tavern, he had to admire the shot. He had acted on instinct, not even taking a second to aim. A lucky shot, especially considering the Mer’s current intoxication, but Krest wouldn’t complain. He deserved a little luck after enduring the loss of his lover. He wondered where his luck was that day.

Dark clouds boomed their displeasure overhead. While Krest had been drinking, a storm had been brewing. Thunder shook the village like mocking laughter, and the Mer began to head towards the docks. He had a feeling that this was a storm he would do well to outrun.

[Krest]

Winds howled with bestial fury, tearing trees from their roots. Rain fell like arrows form the sky, cold even piercing through Krest’s adapted scales. The sky was black, a hanging roof of shifting onyx tinted by the flash of lightning. As thunder rocked the skies above him, Krest swore he heard cackling mingling with the natural boom. Winds kept him from reaching the freedom of the open ocean, and the storm raged with unrepentant fury around him.

That was fine, Krest had a storm of his own he was yearning to show.

His voice started low, a growling hum barely audible through the whipping winds and crashing thunder. He filled that tone with all the base urges that burned throughout his being. His need to survive, the primal anger which haunted his heart, and the deep loneliness that tore at the Mer from the inside out. He walked as he sang, his sound searching for dominance through the cacophony of the storm.

As he picked up pace, so too did his song change. He shifted into a sacred song he had learned among the Tidewhispers. Its echo was an eerie one, wrapped in mystery and begging to be discovered. To Krest, however, it sounded of home. Of raids, of tribal pride, and of heavy duty which rested on the back of every Mer. Its grasping tones latched onto any wayward ear not already held rapt by the raucous noise of the hurricane above them. Here, his voice was resolute, unyielding and stubborn in the face of a greater and louder enemy. And this storm was an enemy, Krest knew that to be true. He may have drunk off beer and rage and adrenaline, but he was still Mer belonging to a tribe which worshiped Chrien. He knew a Godstorm when he saw one, and he knew Chrien was no friend of his.

“COME ON THEN, YOU HEARTLESS BITCH! YOU’VE NEVER SHOWN ANY MERCY BEFORE, WHY START NOW?!” He called out in Common Tongue, hoping that human words coming from a Mer’s mouth would catch the Immortal’s attention. He didn’t know why she was here and he didn’t care. Chrien was supposed to be their Immortal, their righteous avenger. But what had she ever done for him and his kind? She didn’t care about the Mer. No, if she cared she wouldn’t have let Wisp die! She was cruel, and evil, and she was in no way loyal to the Mer.

The storm tore onwards, seemingly ignorant of Krest’s comments. He raged at the whirling clouds above him, tore into the winds that knifed through him, and screamed towards the rain which crashed down from above, but nothing dissuaded the force of nature. It pressed pass him, threatening to leave the village alone unless otherwise dissuaded.

Panic poured through the Mer. He couldn’t let the storm leave. He couldn’t let her go without making her see what she had done.

He stopped screaming and started singing again. Not the tribal tone of the Tidewhispers or the primal hum of a broken Mer, but a song filled with bitterness and sorrow. The type of angry sadness that comes from losing the one person you ever cared about, the only person that made life worth living. An ode to Wisp slipped free his lips, a song they had both sung while exploring the surface together. Its sound was soft yet stubborn, so much like the woman Krest had loved. Music ripped through him, tearing out every aspect of grief which racked his body and shaping it into a melancholic roar pointed at the sky.

Silence. Strained, deafening silence.

Krest bowed his head and fell to his knees, claws tearing at the wet wood of the docks. Maybe he was wrong, maybe Chrien wasn’t in the storm after all. Even if she was, why would the Immortal care? He was just one of her many abandoned children, raging up at a now empty sky with some vain hope at receiving answers. Wisp was gone, and nothing would change that.

And yet.

And yet he still wanted answers. Wanted to show his kind’s creator the storm of spite that raged within him. He wanted to know how she could just stand by while her children ripped the life from their own race.

“I don’t think you’re listening. I don’t think you even care. Fine. But I need to know why you made us like this. Why do we draw blood from our own kind? Why do we kill what we love? Why did she have to die?!” His voice broke as he pleaded to the heavens, hoarse from screaming and singing. He tilted his head upward, now staring directly into the retreating mass of storm cloud that had hung only moments before. “Answer me damn you! Answer me and I’ll do whatever you need. I’ve nothing left to lose.”

Krest felt the wind rise against his face and water rush around his legs. One moment he saw the light surface, and the next he was being dragged down into ocean far beyond any depth the Mer had dared to dive.

[Krest]

These waters were strange to Krest. To a Mer, that was perhaps the most unsettling feeling that could ever be experienced. They lived their whole lives connected to the ocean, or sea, or lake, or river that they knew, and to suddenly be ripped away from it? It was like losing a sense or being unable to find a part of oneself.

A sudden shift in the ocean told Krest he was not alone. Using his bioluminescence, the Mer gave some light to the dark sea, and immediately wished he hadn’t. The trailing tail of a great creature circled around him, his smaller form completely surrounded by the ship-sized individual. Blue-green scales shimmered in the presence of Krest’s light, shining scars of silver standing out in the abyssal dark waters. A crown of multicolored fins shot upwards from her humanoid skull, and her pitch-black eyes revealed nothing as they scanned over Krest.

Chrien, Immortal of Storms and absent creator of the Mer, said nothing as she circled the Mer. He was in the presence of the divine, and he knew it. Chrien hid nothing from the Mer, letting the fullness of her form overwhelm Krest. He was shocked, mind sitting still as he took in the immensity of the Immortal. She was every bit as terrifying as described, her presence filled with a sense of tortured anger. In a sense, Krest could relate. He had been feeling that ever since he lost Wisp.

Krest was silent for what felt like breaks, but finally regained control of his thoughts. As soon as he did, questions flew from his thoughts. He filled the silent waters with images of Mer killing Mer, all framed with an intent. Why?

The massive Immortal smiled, revealing rows and rows of jagged teeth. She then pointed to Krest, her clawed index finger running the entire length of the Mer’s body. Fear gripped him as he waited for the Immortal to explain.

’All failure’, she smirked at the Mer. What? How were the Mer all failures? They were her creation, if anything the Immortal should be responsible for her clutch. If she didn’t like, then she should step in to fix it.

‘Lying,’ Krest snarled out with as much restraint as he could muster. He blamed the immortal for not interceding in Wisp’s death, but he had no illusions about his chances for surviving this encounter.

Chrien, not one to take an insult lightly, pressed Krest down into the sandy bottom of the sea they lay at. Taking a single, large finger, she poked at where Krest’s heart was located and then to the same place on her chest.

‘Alike,’ she purred, thoughts loud and curious as she examined the Mer she held pinned to the floor of the sea bed. She pointed back to his heart, and then once again to hers. ‘Empty. Stolen’

‘Unalike!’ Krest raged back, a sudden kick of courage bursting form his stomach. He was nothing like this monster. Had he the powers of an Immortal, he would insure that the Mer were taken care of, provided for, and even unified. Chrien disagreed, and showed her displeasure through waves of pain which wracked Krest’s body. The Mer felt like every neuron in his body was aflame, burning his scaled skin from the inside out, silently screaming into the near-empty ocean until the Immortal had her fill.

Krest didn’t know what the Immortal had done to him, but he didn’t intend encourage her to do it again.

‘Alike,’ Chrien’s head snapped towards Krest, images of her bitter rage flooding his mind. Ships wrecked, scattered across the seas and split by her storms. Men drowning, swallowed whole by her rage. She was terrifying. She was horrible. And for the briefest moment, Krest thought he spied the same desperate, crushing loneliness that lived in him cross the Immortal’s face.

‘Question,’ the Immortal pressed, regaining her predatory composure. She resumed her intrigued, hungry circles around the Mer, though displeasure now growing apparent in her gaze.

‘Why,’ Images of Wisp’s death shot out from Krest’s mind, vibrant and visceral. Every moment played again in the Mer’s mind, a beat for beat reenactment of his lover’s murder. Again, he saw the the light leave her eyes, the harpoon tear through her, and the victorious song of the Tidewhispers ring out at slaying an enemy Mer.

Chrien started laughing, a thunderous sound which shook the suffocating dark water. She seemed to take pleasure in the misfortune of Krest’s life. Seeing such a bright, optimistic Mer die by the hands of her followers, it filled the Immortal with a sadistic pleasure.

‘Weak,’

Krest shook his head violently, his attachment to Wisp so great he’d risk more pain, even death, from the immortal. Chrien simply looked at him this time, the Immortal’s reactions unpredictable and unreadable. She pointed towards Krest.

‘Mer. Weak,’ Her mask of indifference slipped to reveal disgust, her acclaimed hatred of mortal races absolutely extending to her own children. Hand shooting out, Chrien once again gripped Krest’s torso in her palm. She pressed her finger into the Mer’s chest, and in its wake he felt a storm rise in his cold veins. His blood had become howling wind and his heart a thunderstorm. He looked up at the Immortal in plain shock. ‘Weak. Useful. Servant.’

Realization struck like lighting. Drunk off sadness and anger, Krest had pledged his life in return for answers. Chrien offered those answers, but none of them were satisfactory. The Seascourge simply smiled as Krest finally put all the pieces together, satisfied that she had come out ahead in this arrangement. She always did. The Immortal was lucky like that.

‘Serve?’ Krest was unsure how he was going to begin serving Chrien. He didn’t even want to help her, she held no sympathy for any of the struggles that her children went through. The stories about her were true. Heartless. Cruel. A monster.

‘Seduce. Sing. Intrigue. Inspire,’ Chrien responded, laughing at Krest’s confusion. She had plenty of Rusalkas that served as weapons, as storms given life. But her domain was more than destruction, and her agents needed to be more than that as well. Images of creating conflict through spite, through luck, and through Krest’s natural abilities pierced into the Mer’s mind, and he knew how the Immortal wanted him to serve. He wasn’t to be given a choice in the matter, his own desperation sealing his fate for him.

'Wisp. Save?' Regardless of what had happened to him in exchange for information, Krest needed to know this. He needed to understand why the Immortal who created them would not protect them. Would not protect Wisp, someone he thought to be the best that Mer could offer this world.

'No. Stranger. Weak. Outsider,' Chrien clarified, an impish smirk splayed across her face as she sent back images of his dead lover. Krest shut his eyes in a vain attempt to block out the sight of Wisp being impaled by a Tidewhisper spear. The images were burned in his mind, however, and no amount of denial would ever get them out again.

Krest wasn’t even given the chance to respond before that great surge of water took him again, tossing him from the unknown seas back into waters he was familiar with. The Immortal was both what he had expected, and much more complex than anyone could rightly understand. She was cruel, and touched by hate, there was no excusing that. But for a moment, he saw something distinctly vulnerable in the Immortal. Loneliness. Perhaps Chrien was right, perhaps, in some ways, he was like her. And she like him.

Regardless, he was to be her tool. For now, at least.

[Whisper]

Krest

Awarded Points

10
These points can/cannot be spent in magic

Awarded Knowledge

Psychology: Experiencing flashbacks
Psychology: Drinking to deal with pain
Psychology: Anger is a powerful motivator
Ranged (Harpoon Launcher): Loading a harpoon
Singing: Emotion makes songs meaningful
Singing: An ode to Wisp

Chrien: Immortal of Storms
Chrien: Thinks Mer are failures and weak
Chrien: Hiding pain
Chrien: Wants Krest to serve
Tidewhisper: Killed Wisp
Tidewhisper: Tribe and home
Humans: Responsible in-part for Wisp's death
Wisp: Lifemate
Wisp: A stubborn Mer
Wisp: Loved land-dwellers and Mer

Awarded Extras

Loot & Losses	Injuries
None	None
Fame	Devotion
-4: Shooting a Human with a Harpoon	Ruskalis (as per PSF)

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Comments

I have to agree with Plague's opinion on this - I think you did a lovely job of capturing the Blessing here. As an advocate and a prolific user of telepathic-style communication in portraying Immortals, I thoroughly enjoyed that aspect. Best of luck with this blessing!

If you have any questions, comments or criticism about your review, feel free to send me a PM and we can discuss it.
Thank ye.