• Closed • [The Glass Tree] The Crystal Ship

[Woe]

24th of Cylus 722

Even in Cylus, the Almund Bazaar was a bustling scene. Much of it was covered over by a great awning, to ward off the worst of the wind's chill, while bonefires were lit here and there to warm the various merchants and their customers. Despite all of this, however, there was precious scarcity of customers. It made negotiations go much smoother for the buyers, all told, when the merchants were sick up to their gills with beggars come to enjoy the open flames in the Winter's chill.

One of the hot items, as ever, were vessels made of glass. Even then, they were being sold by the droves in the middle of Cylus, although most opted to buy from the Glassblower's Union. Even so, some of those pieces were bartered for in bulk by merchants, who passed on the service of bringing their goods to the market as far away as Almund.

One item in particular caught Woe's eye there, it was a fine crystal boat, etched beautifully and delicate looking. When he ventured to test its durability, turning it over and making sure the masts didn't fall out from mere gravity, he was satisfied. This item would do for his purposes.

"Ahh, a good find. A bright find! I say, it's worth a few gold? Perhaps an onyx. This is a bespokee item from the estate of a poor dearly departed sea captain. I will personally make sure that the proceeds goes to benefit the family..."

The merchant crooned his story to Woe, a practiced pitch if ever he heard one. While he was normally of a mind to point out that he'd already paid the family for the item, if indeed there was a 'family', he didn't wish to press the issue. "A few gold." He agreed, and slid the nels over to him, taking the ship.

Breaks later, he arrived at his destination, breathing comfortably in the winter's cold, from which Ziell protected him. He owed the Winter Lord thanks for the protection he'd given him. It gave him so much more in the way of opportunities to enjoy the weather of Cylus and Zi'da, and even early Ashan. It was for the purpose of honoring his patrons that he arrived at the Glass Tree.

Although he was more or less immune to cold, he was dressed appropriately. His upper body was wrapped in a dark blue, hooded great cloak, mantled at the shoulders by gray, black, and white magpie feathers. Beneath it, he wore a vested doublet of dark brown, quilited velvet. Around his legs a pair of quilted trousers of charcoal gray. His feet were covered by a pair of simple, dark brown travel boots. Around his wrists and hands, a pair of thick, dark brown leather gloves.

He had a strong twine curled up in the pocket of his cloak, which he wound it through the ship, making sure it'd be secure as he hung it from the ever-green Glass Tree.

He did this, thinking of Chamadarst, Ziell, and his aunt Moseke who'd taken him under her wing, so to speak.

Once the ship was secure, he took out a coin of each denomination. One, copper, for humble and down-to-earth Moseke. "Thank you, Aunt. I never imagined I would have a family, just arcs ago. Thank you for your protection."

He used glass touch to turn that copper nel into the frailty of glass, thus tying it in with Chamadarst.

Next, he took a silver nel, and placed it also in the deck of the crystal ship. This he dedicated to Ziell, "Lord of Winter, you have granted me your confidence, and your wisdom in equal measure. Thank you for your words and protection."

This nel he also used glass touch to impart with the frailty of glass.

A golden nel was next, and this he dedicated to Chamdarst. Woe bore his mark on his palms, two golden nels on either hand. He placed it within the crystal ship, turning it into frail glass as he did so. "Chamadarst, as companionable a presence in isolation as ever there was. Without you, I wouldn't have wealth enough to do all I have accomplished. I dedicate my success to you."

He slipped it into the ship.

But there was one last denomination. That of Onyx. He remembered how he'd been redeemed of his Lethroda mark, during the Forging. It was then and only then that he felt safe including himself in that congregation of heroes. Nevertheless, he had words for Sintra, his mother, as well. "Mother, I thank you for giving me life. Apart from that, I wish nothing more from you than to leave my family alone."

Something in the back of his mind whispered a warning. He was the blood of Sintra, and his family was hers, forever and always. Even so, he said it and meant it, sealing the wish and prayer into the onyx nel as he reduced it to the frailty of glass. He slipped that last nel into the ship.

[Wisp-Wish]

A graveyard of nautical skeletons created the spiraling unwalkable turrets and buckling bridges of Almund. Wisp stared out at the sprawling body of it, reflecting on how much it looked a skeleton rising from the ocean’s shoreline. It was the first time she had been away from her children for longer than a single sun loop and her heart could tell. The leaf they occupied drooped and swayed under Hoyt’s pacing and the winds pulse. A meditating throb that distracted Whisp from her self-pity and refocused her attention on the oak trees pulse. She would have come to Almund just for this had she known, a refreshing piece of Saun in the middle of Cylus. Mounting Hoyt, Wisp squeezed the wasp’s thorax into a begrudging flight and circled the leafed tree in a merry-go-round of admiration. By Moseke’s grace… she admired, with a bosom filled with love for her immortal mother.

Despite Wisp’s delight in science, and her innate curiosity as to the mechanics that allowed the tree to persevere in Cylus. In that moment, beneath the duomo of the glass tree, a reverent vibration took hold of the ribbed ember in her breast. Wisp’s mind drifted to the words of the stiffened mouth of the elderly Tunawa, Joseph, whose philosophical mumblings had so often fallen on deaf ears. He had warned against using technology and science as the sole lens for explaining and provide meaning to our existence. He advised on the importance of intuition and faith, a moral compass always redirecting the Tunawa back to Moseke’s way. Treating faith not as a deviation from reason but as a power to overcome the carnivorous and lecherous fever endemic to the mortal coil. If only I had listened… Wisp lamented, not noticing the altitude Hoyt was losing.

Soon the two were amongst the lowest branches of the apse, and above the heads of bent parishioners. They didn’t loiter for long, placing a gift amongst the branches and wandering off. A single figure was distinct among the hunched shoulders of the poor. Clothed feathered and fine, he was a lodge pine of a man. Not wanting to disrupt his apparent ritualistic prayer, Wisp directed Hoyt away from the man’s head towards the tree. However, Wisp had failed to detect Hoyt’s wavering energy reserves and the wasp descended helplessly towards the glass ship, alighting on its bow low and crouched like figurehead. Wisp felt the boat lurch forward and leaped off Hoyt’s back towards the stern in an effort to prevent its sinking.

Uh oh…Buzzberg! She thought, not agile enough to prevent the inevitable. The glass nels were immediately dislodged from the ship and fell to the ground with a tinkling shatter. Wisp grabbed at the mast as the boat rocked on wind waves caused by Hoyt’s abrupt landing. Two rocks and the boat dislodged its tenuous hold on the branch and plummeted towards the ground, following in the nel’s fate. No no no…, a birds cheep made it past the Tunawan mouth.

Throwing herself at the wasp, Wisp fell lengthwise along the stripped creature and rolled hard to the side. With no energy to reflexively resist the force of the Tunawa’s impact, Hoyt was safely wrapped up in the mother’s arms as they hit the ground. A few deep breaths into the tense silence later and Hoyt was wearily crawling off the Tunawa unscathed. Wisp sat up, immediately looking over the wasp’s length for fatal glass shards. Hoyt crawled over the Tunawa, running his antennae anxiously over her knobbed knees and velveted head. Once both were certain neither had been injured in the fall Wisp turned an apologetic eye to the plutocrat.

I hope he’s not the superstitious sort… Wisp mentally crossed her fingers, thinking what disaster he might see in the breaking of his ritual offerings. “I am so terribly sorry sir!” She yelled from amongst the glass ruins, barely drawn up taller than his boots toe. “I c-can pay for that.” She offered, although the glass items were likely worth more than she made in an arc, and she hadn’t the faintest how she would make good on that offer.

[Woe]

Woe could've sworn he heard a buzzing sound, whizzing through the air around the Glass Tree as he set up his ritualistic offering to the Immortals that dominated his life. Confused, as Cylus was a largely dark and cold period where few breeds of insects could thrive let alone wander openly, he paid it no mind until it was too late, and a rather large wasp landed on the bow of his crystal ship.

Woe was normally one with fast reflexes, but even his were outpaced by the speed with which the situation deteriorated with the arrival of the tunawa mounted upon a wasp. The nels fell down to the ground, shattering upon the earth surrounding the Glass Tree. Finally, the creatuure's weight added to the crystal ship caused its twine it was hung from the branch to loosen up, and prompted the entire thing to slide through the air to the ground.

However, Woe's first concern wasn't the loss of his offering, if indeed it was a loss, but the welfare of the creature that had fallen amidst the shattered glass. This was not the first time Woe had a chance encounter with a Tunawa. His own friend, Gloom, was a tunawa. Then there'd been Juniper in Etzos, and a few others besides with whom he was acquainted. It was hard to become angry at the small, well-meaning creatures, even for one as dour as Woe. It was even harder to maintain a grudge.

"Are you alright? Did either of you get cut by the glass?" He asked. Then, with a swift motion, pulled a straw brush and dust pan from his pocket Sombran dimension, and began cleaning up the glass that was around them. "It's alright. There's no need to pay for it. Glass is fragile, one might presume it's made to be broken. But once broken, it can be reshaped." So saying, he swept up the glass, beginning with the smaller pieces, and then moving his way up to the larger ones. Each time he gathered more shattered glass, he slipped them into his domain bag. Later he would have them sent along to the Glass Blower's Union in Egilrun, to be remade into something new.

"The glass wasn't all that valuable, in fact. Just a trinket I picked up from the market. The onyx and gold nel were worth quite a bit, but it's value was already rendered moot." Woe swept up the last of the shards, he thought, by the time he finished his speech. Then he dumped the last into his domain bag. "I'm Woe, what is your name?"

[Wisp-Wish]

How kind! Wisp almost laughed when the man stooped, miniature broom in hand, to clean up the debris. They weren't indoors and Wisp found the idea of sweeping the dirt profoundly amusing. But, she also acknowledged the kindness of it. While he could evidently afford well soled shoes, not all were so fortunate and an unfortunately angled piece of glass could easily ruin someone else's. It evaded her entirely that he meant to reuse the glass, and didn't comprehend what he meant by re-shaped into something else. As far as she understood, he'd just pocketed trash. As he bent down the Tunawa got a closer look at the man's face. Besides the remains of a previous burn across the side of his face, he was a kindly faced man. She was relieved to hear that the glass was worth very little and even more relieved to hear not a wrinkle of anger in his blanket concern for their welfare.

"Yes, yes. It looks like both Hoyt," she gestured to the exhausted wasp, "and myself are just fine. Thank you. Haven't taken a spill like that in arcs, but with the cold, he's not got quite the endurance he thinks he has." she explained, while lifting a large chunk of glass and, staggering under its weight, dumped it into the dustpan in an effort to contribute to the tidying. Hoyt, not understanding the Tunawa but too prideful to be left out of a task, crawled over to a glass chip and seizing it between his pincers dragged it across the dirt like a dog who'd seized upon much too large a stick.

Once Woe was making his final sweep of the brush Wisp took the wasps antennae and led him onto the mans coat sleeve so that they may speak at eye level. "Woe?" Wisp tilted her head, unable to resist questioning such an odd name and the lack of a subsequent surname (which seemed all the rage amongst humans). "I'm Wisp-Wish and this is Hoyt." She introduced with a gracious head dip. While Wisp-wish exchanged pleasantries, Hoyt had found himself a pocket of fabric as near to Woe's warm skin as possible to hunker down. "I hope you'll excuse Hoyt. It's a dash cold for him and he has no manners." She explained, remembering that not all humans were so calm around her stinging comrade. As she spoke, Wisp took a comfortable seat on whatever warn flat surface was available or offered - whether that be the palm of his hand, a flattened piece of fabric, or the top of his bag, not realizing the hypocrisy with which she acted.

"It is a pleasure to meet you sir. I apologize again for disrupting your prayer. I hope it wasn't too serious an exchange you were having." Her black rimmed eyes widened, face as expressive as any Tunawan's. "This is my first time visiting Almund, and I must say your city is..." she hesitated, "...quite the eclectic architectural arrangement. I must admit that this tree is the first familiar sight and you the first kind soul we've met since landing here - it is a treat." She complimented before quickly adding, "Not that your fellow Almundians are not friendly I am sure. They just seem - busy." She added lamely.

"It seems this tree is a common natural church," she quickly and awkwardly re-directed the conversation by gesturing at the many glass ornaments and people scattered about. "Is she a gift of Moseke to the people of Almund?" She queried of the assumed Almundian. "I don't recognize the symbol on the glass baubles in the upper boughs as anything relating to Moseke." she explained, recalling the broken infinity symbol that was frosted onto the glass ornaments several stories up. She assumed they had been placed there earlier in the trees life and been lifted aloft over the generations the tree had grown. It seemed clear to her that these baubles likely be dedicated to the original function or creator of the tree untouched by time or weather. I suppose it is less offensive to show interest in his cities monuments than complain about the rudeness of his neighbours. She admonished herself while simultaneously dragging the conversation out to afford Hoyt and herself enough time to warm and recover sufficiently to be safely airborne.

[Woe]

Woe was surprised, truth be told, to find a tunawa roaming in this climate. Then again, the first time he'd met Gloom in the flesh was when he'd washed up in a half-submerged boat in Viden. What was it about encounters with tunawa in the cold? Some kind of interesting synchronicity to it. Woe watched as they tried to contribute to gathering up the crystal shards. He accepted them onto the dustpan. Soon enough, however, the glass was cleared and it appeared what remained wouldn't pose harm to anyone walking barefoot beneath the Glass Tree.

"Hello Wisp-Wish, and Hoyt." Woe said, bringing his hand to his brow by way of saluting them. Woe didn't mind, although he had a twinge of instinctive self-protectiveness as the wasp crawled into his pocket. Woe usually didn't enjoy having wasps in his clothes, but this one seemed remarkably well tamed, under the control of Wisp-Wish. "Do you mind if I make him more comfortable in there? I think I can help him with whatever chill he might've suffered from falling in the snow."

This said, he gently grazed Hoyt's thorax beneath his pocket, just light enough not to appear threatening, lest the wasp bite him. Then he channeled Moseke's light into it, healing light damage that might've incurred from his spill into the snow. Wisp-Wish looked well enough, however, so he would hold off on doing the same for here.

"He's quite large for a wasp." Woe said as he removed his hand from the wasp's thorax. "And well-behaved compared to most that I've ever met."

Woe paused to think of something and shrugged.

"As for the prayer, I doubt my patrons will be bothered by the disruption of it. Moseke, Ziell, and Chamadarst are quite mild mannered." Then Woe turned his eyes toward the canopy of the Glass Tree, as Wisp-Wish directed his attention upward. "I'm not entirely sure how the Glass Tree came to be. Some say that it was part of an accord that Scalvoris holds with all Immortals, every Immortal that survives today is acknowledged and accepted in one form or another in Scalvoris. Even Immortals that position themselves against mortalkind, are at the very least placated and observed. And so Scalvoris is a special place to the Immortals, for this reason."

Woe smirked at the tunawa, as she mentioned the Almundian general curmudgeonliness. "I have a mixed experience with the people of Almund. They are a rough crowd, proud, but they do know how to throw a party."

As he looked up into the tree, he began to notice a pattern of the glass ornaments, lit as they were by various glowing baubles. They appeared, in the moonlight of Cylus, to shine in a figure-eight shape. Much like the sigil of Pilgrim's Promise. "Perhaps it has something to do with the Pilgrim's Promise." Woe murmured, half to himself. "I don't know if you hold to any Immortals in particular? Which Immortals do tunawa typically hold to, Wisp-Wish?"

[Wisp-Wish]

Had the Snätänhì not been lulled by both the cold and the exhaustion, there was no telling how he would have responded to the man’s touch. Having never been touched by anyone other than a Tunawa, Wisp wasn’t sure how he would respond and was moving to warn Woe when she drew up short and mute. The man suddenly had a pocket full of sunshine. Distracted by the sudden display of magic, the task was complete and Hoyt quietly resting before Wisp found her voice. Although she knew magic couldn’t harm her, she felt a creeping dread of danger frost the back of her neck making the mycelium stand on end.

“Y-yeah..he’s a Buex ìparun. He’s just about a foot – but they can grow a smidgen larger even.” She replied, still staring at his pocket. “They’re not really any more well behaved than a dog. He’d be just as apt to steal my shoes, if you know…I wore any.” She explained, shaking her bare foot towards the man. “D-did you just use magic on him?” She couldn’t resist adding. Would someone use magic openly in Scalvoris? Would someone use magic on him without asking permission? She hadn’t the faintest what the customs in Scalvoris would be having kept largely to herself in Sweetwine since arriving.

Wisp was relieved when she heard the words Moseke pass his lips. Even her name promised warmth and light, and Wisp felt little fear before it. The other two names sounded vaguely familiar perhaps but she couldn’t recall anything specific about them. How much danger can one who prays to Moseke bear one of her creations. she reassured herself, presuming everyone shared the same knowledge with the typical narrow-mindedness of the less well traveled.

Wisp listened intently as Woe shared what he knew about the Glass Tree. “Certainly not every immortal.” She scoffed, “What place would welcome Lisirra, or another immortal intent on the control or destruction of their mortal echoes?” She was careful not to betray her familiarity with Lisirra by offering only her as an example. Wisp stared into the man’s face, watching for a reaction that might reveal more about her new home.

The sky was lit with town fires, starlight and the great glowing orb that lay over everything like a many wrinkled shawl. She continued to listen and determined that Woe was not in fact an Almundian, “Oh? You are not from here?” But even as she said it she was following the strangers gaze into the trees. Pilgrim’s Promise? she wondered, but her thought was interrupted by the following question.

“I don’t know a Tunawa who doesn’t love her mother. We hold Moseke in our breasts, one and all. Beyond that, I imagine it to be as varied as your own kind. Have you made the Pilgrim’s promise to the tree as well?” She ventured.

[Woe]

When WIsp asked if Woe used magic on her wasp, he responded, "Apologies, I should have waited for you to say it was alright, before going ahead to do it. You did hear me ask, didn't you? It's a bit of divine magic from Moseke. I'm marked by her. It will make him feel very comfortable and heal any light damage that he must've suffered in his spill."

It wasn't necessarily encouraged to use magic in public, especially the more destructive magics. The same laws applied to mages as applied to everyone else, after all, and there was some prejudice toward those who brandished it brazenly. But Woe was careful to keep a lid on his magics. He only didn't imagine that his more beneficial magics would be objected to. So he took this as a learning opportunity, to realize that he shouldn't use even healing without consent.

When Wisp scoffed at the idea that every Immortal was acknowledged in Scalvoris, Woe shook his head, "Every Immortal. And while Chrien, Lisirra, and perhaps even Sintra are not well-liked, they are respected and people who fear them will seek to placate them. Scalvorians don't tempt the anger of Immortals lightly.

When Wisp referenced Moseke as the 'mother' of her people, Woe quirked a brow. He didn't know Moseke had made the Sev'ryn as well as the Tunawa, but he supposed if any Immortal was liable to make two races, it was the Immortal so closely associated with life. "So Moseke created the Tunawa? And I suppose it makes sense that tunawa from different places and walks of life might have different values."

Idly, he wondered if Wisp might be just such a one to have different views on Immortals. But for now, he kept quiet on that subject.

"I'm not quite sure what the Pilgrim's Promise is." Woe answered honestly, "Or at least what the Promise refers to. I do know there's an organization that's faded into obscurity lately, and that figure-eight above us is its sigil. They are an organization that seeks to either venerate the Immortals or Placate them, on a case per case basis."

Woe thought on it a few more moments, as he replaced his domain bag on his belt. He minded the wasp in his pocket still, careful not to make any sudden movements lest he rouse the creature.

"I think this tree is importan to them somehow."

[Wisp-Wish]

This man has received a gift from Mother? Wisp paid him more attention after this revelation. What does it mean to be a man marked by Mother Earth? I wonder what he thinks of his Patron…certainly one can be marked and have very different relationships with one’s immortal. The plant thought bitterly, subconsciously touching her stomach where Lisirra’s hold pulsed. The Tunawa white-knuckled through life, intent on maintaining independence and control. I guess we shall see… Wisp would consider carefully before opening her mouth further around this man. It was important she not betray who she was if this man had a relationship with Desnind – he might link her with her true identity: Toṣe i’en. If they knew where she was, might not they come after her. It was a worry that made her leaves shiver and perspire in her sleep.

“Thank you. I’m sure Hoyt will appreciate both the easing of his aches and the warm embrace of Moseke.” She bowed her head in appreciation. She would have asked further questions but was brought up by the man’s surprise that Moseke created her people. Is he that ignorant of his Patron? Or, does she not mention us? A bitter sap slithered through Wisp’s limbs, seeping from Lisirra’s egg. Lisirra’s angst fueled and compounded her own. She was drawn along as if caught up in a mob’s fury within herself. Stop. Stop. You’re leaping to assumptions… The woman used the cold steel of logic to scissor the expanding knot of angst in her stomach. You can’t control me. She whispered to the egg.

She could have sworn the egg smirked back.

“Come Muhïm…let me spin you a yarn.” She grinned broadly, referring to the man by a Xanthean translation of his name. As a Moseke-marked it seemed only natural to Wisp to refer to him in the tongue of the earth. She crossed her legs and gestured to a carved stone bench that overlooked the tree, indicating that he should take a seat. Whether he did, or not, she would continue her tale should he make a favourable gesture to do so.

“One marked by Moseke should know the story of her people.” She began by clasping her fist into a ball, as her mother had when she’d told her the story of their birth. “Once upon a time, Moseke, the great mother and womb of the world had fallen into a deep and silent sadness. She was closed tightly, like a seed without water.” She explained, gesturing to her closed fist. “The trees were voiceless” she stroked her throat, “and the limbs of the great forest had only insects and lizards to run along them.” She spread her arms out to imitate limbs. “It was as if the sound was sucked out of all of nature.” She covered her mouth. Each gesture stoked her nostalgia, reminder her of her own mother and the times she’d told her children these same stories.

“It is a great mystery why the mother was so sad. But, we all know what makes a mother sad do we not?” This is when her mother would have tickled her, and when she would have tickled her own children. “When her children are hurt or sad of course. Perhaps, she missed us before she had even met us.” She chuckled, sounding like a tinkling brook. “Ymiden, our father, could not stand to see her so distraught. As the immortal of rebirth, he bore Moseke into himself to birth her anew and cleansed.” She gestured to her stomach as if she were pregnant mortal.

“Their love created the Tunawa. Our smiles and laughter like the summer of our father and our bodies miniature versions of Moseke. We brought Moseke out of her sadness with the sounds of our laughter, the brightness of our smiles, and the playfulness of our wits. Our joy can rebirth the weariness in others.” She explained, “I’m surprised that with such a special relationship as you have with Moseke, that she’d fail to mention her children. I can’t recall the last time I had a conversation and failed to mention my little sprouts.” The bitterness frothed its way to the top, despite her attempts to shove it down.

___________________

Wisp listened to Woe’s description of Pilgrim’s Promise and gazed at the twinkling glass balls reflect the night skies lights. I wonder why it’s so important…

“What a wonderful story...” a voice croaked behind them. Wisp couldn’t immediately see the form of the voice’s source, hidden as it was behind the man before her. However, the woman soon stepped out of the shadows to reveal herself.

While Almund was full of the hardy grizzled and grey, Wisp had yet to spot a truly elderly human. In Desnind it was rare that a household didn’t have a grandparent or two under its roots. Wisp guessed a life in Almund was a tough and dangerous one – but she hadn’t connected the dots until she was surprised by the hunched presence that had joined them at the tree.
The woman’s skinny knees dimpled her apron dress and her thin grey hair flopped unwashed over her face. She leaned heavily on a wooden cane as she shuffled under the tree and placed a glass ball with the infinity symbol etched into its surface. She looked at the two and smiled a toothless grin.

“Would you like to hear another story?” She croaked.

[Woe]

The tunawa had a pensive attitude about them, and Woe could tell they were having ponderous thoughts about the situation they found themselves in. He wondered if something he’d said struck her askew, before she invited him to listen to a story. Having received the offer, he nodded, and drew out of his domain bag a Pineapple of Usefulness, something that could keep the area warm while they remained there. He understood only a little about tunawa physiology. He knew that they didn’t react well to the cold, in particular, and so would appreciate the warmth radiating from teh ‘pineapple’.

“This will keep the area warm, for us while you tell the story.” Woe assured her, it also provided some amount of light.

So, he listened to her, and wondering idly what Muhin meant. He wasn’t familiar with the language of Desnind, but supposed he might have cause to learn soon. He had already planned an excursion for the Southern Continent, a different part, but one never knew when their course might steer off the mark. He ought to prepare for that eventuality.

She began the story with an assertion, that the Tunawa were uniquely her people. This piqued his interest. Previously he’d thought that the Sev’ryn were her people. Could an Immortal birth more than one race? He supposed if anyone could, it’d be the All-Mother. Nevertheless, he gave her the benefit of the doubt, and trusted that she knew what she was talking about. Being the only tunawa in present company.

Woe was indeed curious why Moseke may have been sad enough to need consolation. And if Wisp’s explanation, that the tunawa were not yet created, was the reason in question. It was an interesting way to spin a yarn about an Immortal. Perhaps even Moseke had some degree of foresight when it came to her ‘children’.

The way that Wisp described the love of Ymiden and Moseke seemed grand, something beyond what Woe himself ever deserved to experience. He was a murderer afterall, and always would be. He didn’t need Emma Heen’s ghost around to know that much.

He sighed, as she said it struck her odd that Moseke hadn’t mentioned her sprouts. “Apologies Wisp, on behalf of myself to your kind and to Moseke. I regret that I haven’t ahd the opportunity to speak at length with Moseke about her past. Perhaps sometime I’ll get the opportunity, but as it is, her mark was a reward for service more than devotion. But I hope in time to prove worthy through devotion.”

“I had a vague understanding of how the Tunawa came to be, but I must have been confused, because I thought it was Ymiden who created your people. I should’ve known that Moseke would also be involved, given their relationship” Woe nodded.



The voice that croaked behind them raised Woe’s hackles, but he didn’t draw any weapon or stand in alarm, but turned his head toward where the voice came from. He was reminded of Moseke, the form she’d taken when last they’d met. Of an old Crone in front of the Elements Hall. This old lady might as easily have seemed the same as that person.

Woe noted the glass ball that she’d hung from the tree, with the infinity symbol. The same symbol of Pilgrim’s Promise. Was she with the group then? “Yes, if you’ll share our warmth and light, we wouldn’t mind hearing your story, Miss?” He said, asking in not so many words for a name.

“That is, if Hoyt and Wisp wouldn’t object?” Woe turned to Wisp.

[Doran]

Woe:

Knowledge:
Appraisal: x 3
Animal Husbandry: x 1
Caregiving: x 3
Storytelling: x 3

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

Wisp:

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

- - -

Comments: I really enjoyed the way that you set the scene and described the Almund Bazaar in your first post, Woe, and I was, as always, impressed by the way that you described your PC’s clothes. I’ve already told you a couple of times before, but such things really enhance a thread in my opinion!

The way that Woe prayed to his Immortals and thanked them was beautifully written in my opinion!

I’ve never read a thread by Wisp before. I found her a rather interesting PC. Her curiosity was described well, and the way that she ended up meeting Woe … oh my. That was definitely interesting. Fortunately, Woe didn’t seem to mind the broken glass too much!

All in all, this was an enjoyable first meeting between Woe and Wisp. I enjoyed their conversation about religion, and I appreciate that you paid attention to the lore, such as the fact that every Immortal is acknowledged in Scalvoris.

It’s a pity that this thread was never finished, but I enjoyed the posts that you made!

Wisp, if you ever come back and want knowledges, let me know, please, and I’ll add them to this review!

With that being said, enjoy your rewards!

P.S.: You can also find the XP for this thread in your UCP!