Seaside

[[brackets lover]]

[Boy and Dog]

Jon takes a few steps forward, taking a look back toward Darko before trotting up to Lenny and licking her face continuously in an attempt to wake her up.

[quillpleasant]

Boy and Dog

Lenny winces and shoves at Jon, trying to roll over. Then as consciousness returns to her, she reaches up to scratch his ears.

"(Hello! Missed you, friend.)" With a groan, she sits up, rubbing her eyes blearily. Then, between blinks, she notices Darko and gives a lazy wave.

"Hey kid. You with this guy? From the wizard guild or whatever?" Without waiting for a response she begins to rummage through the tent, licking her dry lips.

"Oh, no. Well yes? I'm with him but not from a guild. He just brought me here, but I'm not sure why," says Darko honestly. Now that she's up and talking, this person doesn't seem dangerous- just kind of a mess really.

"(Why kid?)" asks Lenny, pulling out a half empty water bottle out of the debris and lifting it to her lips.

[TeChameleon]

[Under the Sea]

"Y'know, it's weird. I remember that the kraken used to be associated with the Norse, but then in the early eighties, it started being associated with the Greek pantheon. Honestly, I'd get a bit grumpy too if I suddenly got shoehorned in with that pack of Olympian nutbags. The Norse deities tend to be either drunkenly homicidal or suicidally depressed, but at least they were saner than Zeus and his lot. And a hell of a lot less inbred." Eddie commented as they walked. "Although my one brief interaction with Loki mostly gave the impression that he thought he was a lot funnier than anyone else did. Then I got shuffled off to Magni to deal with. Guy might as well have been the god of bros. All he ever seemed to want to do was arm-wrestle."

Eddie shook his head. "Sorry, mind wandering a bit. Did you ever have any dealings with any of your local pantheons?"

[Earl of Purple]

Under the Sea

"Kraken be preferin' cooler waters t' sea serpents, though leviathans can be found throughout the oceans an' move around a lot." Migrating like the gigantic whales they are. "Nay, ne'er met a true god. Met a few little 'uns, though. Sea nymphs, reef gods, an' the like. Stuff th' priests insisted weren't real gods just local entities what give power in exchange fer a soul. Never really bothered I, though; I be lackin' a soul, since I be artificial. An' most priests didn't like me neither." Frigate is mistaken about his lack of a soul, though his mistake is derived from his creator's bigotry and a great deal of religious propaganda.

[[brackets lover]]

[Boy and Dog]

Jon kicks his hind leg as his ears are scratched, having a contented look on his face.

He tilts his head at Lenny's question, looking back to Darko. "(Smell like Lenny. Same pack?") Jon looks up towards Darko and whips his head back, imitating how a human would beckon someone with their arm

[TeChameleon]

[Under the Sea]

Eddie somehow managed to make a snorting noise, which was mildly impressive given that he didn't breathe, and they were underwater anyways.

"I wouldn't stress too much about you having a soul or not." he said. "I have met a few of the beings that claim to be gods, and they got reeeeeeeal quiet when asked if I had a soul. Even Magni, who normally put about as much thought into what he said as into whether or not he wanted another ale (that would be 'yes'), just went 'Of course you d...' and got a really weird expression on his face and went quiet, then changed the subject. And I'm just as artificial as you are."

Eddie shrugged. "For me, at least, I'm guessing that it might be related to how anybody with any sort of mage-sight goes sort of cross-eyed and has to go lie down with a sick headache if they look at me too close. Or not, who knows?"

He gave a small smirk. "And a lot of priests seem to be a bit grumpy, from what I've seen. There have been a few that were some of the best people you could ever hope to meet, of course, but there's been a lot who go through life looking like the world has failed them, somehow. Unless they're priests for the Greeks. Those guys mostly seem to have just kind of given up. Hard to encourage people to live better lives when you've got Dionysus snoring drunkenly in the third row and Zeus is trying to 'seduce' everything with a pulse out back."

[quillpleasant]

Boy and Dog

Lenny stares at Jon with a puzzled expression for a couple moments before his eyes suddenly widen. He looks over at Darko, who's stepping hesitantly forward at the dog's beckoning.

Suddenly Lenny is on his feet, reaching out to grab Darko. The boy is too surprised to resist, but he gives a yelp of fear as the ragged individual scrutinizes him with an impassive expression.

Lenny squints, then leans in to sniff Darko. After an uncomfortable few seconds he releases the boy, who immediately stumbles backward.

"Sorry kid, thought you were someone else. Might want to get your nose checked, Jon," says Lenny, slumping back onto sand and yawning widely. Darko looks both confused and uncomfortable with the whole exchange.

[[brackets lover]]

[Boy and Dog]

Jon looks confusedly between Lenny and Darko before bringing his gaze further away from both, catching sight of his tail which he immediately proceeds to chase. This circular movement continues on for a good moment before he suddenly stops, running towards and attempting to lay on his side on Lenny's suit jacket, or otherwise looking for anywhere else comfortable to lay.

[quillpleasant]

Boy and Dog

Both Lenny and Darko grin at Jon's antics- at least there's common ground here. The former doesn't object to the dog taking over their jacket, reaching over to give his back a scritch. Gently, on account of the sharp nails.

"Can you... talk to him?" asks Darko, tilting his head to one side. Lenny nods, not looking up.

"Sure can. He's a good dog, smarter than most people. But he seems to think we know each other, which we don't." Lenny digs their feet into the warm sand. "What's a kid like you doing all the way out here anyway? Shouldn't you be in school?"

Darko shrugs. "No, I don't have PREP classes on Fridays. And I can travel pretty fast." He wants to ask more about the dog, but he still doesn't trust this drifter.

Flopping onto their back next to Jon, Lenny shades their eyes against the sun. "PREP, huh? Good to know. Well, I'm pretty busy right now, so why don't you travel on back to wherever you came from and leave me alone."

The abrupt rudeness takes Darko aback, but after a moment he nods and begins to back away, glancing at Jon to see if the wizard is staying or going.

[quillpleasant]

Hunting

Nathair glides through the air a few hundred feet over the shoreline, his gold eye picking up every detail despite the distance. His divination magic, although it was surprisingly reticent with this particular target, eventually indicated that this general area was a good place to look. So here he is, and he's come prepared.

It feels strange to be on a mission for someone who isn't Ilpholin. But Svartha's story tugged at his metaphorical heartstrings- not to mention that finding Sestrie could impact the future of Phyrexia on this plane. That's a pretty good motivator. And he could really use a win after his recent humiliation at the claws of that damn dragon.

Despite his speed and magical x-ray vision, it would still take Nathair a long time to comb an entire swathe of the coast on his own. So it's lucky that he's a one man army. In a flash, he discorporates, turning from a single humanoid shape into dozens of tiny drones, each equipped with highly sensitive video and audio sensors. They spread out, each heading in a different direction to cover more ground, whirring as they flit over the sand and waves.

If that human is here, it's only a matter of time before one of him finds her.

[Morty]

[Hunting]

The first thing Nathair might notice isn't any kind of human, but a strange effect blanketing a part of the coast. It clouds minds and senses, making people turn around and forget where they were going. But his quarry doesn't seem to be there.

He does, however, see someone head in that direction. A lone green-haired human woman on a deer, wearing a poncho and a hat. She does seem to fit the description he was given, minus the fact that she's wearing clothes.

[quillpleasant]

Hunting

Well, that is strange. Nathair's curiosity is immediately piqued by the mind fogging area- something like that must exist for a reason, and it might be worth investigating. Maybe it holds some powerful magical item that he could claim for Ilpholin. Of course, it would be difficult to go into something like that without being turned aside from its effects...

Unless he switched off the higher functioning capabilities of one of his drones and sent it in while it relayed video feed to him. After all, then he wouldn't be entering himself. Would that work? Who knows, and now isn't the time to test it, because this human is undoubtedly the priority.

For a moment he debates dropping down and getting the information by force. But Nathair is trying to be less reckless, and think things through more. After all, the only reason he's been failing is his own hubris. So... a subtle approach.

Presently, the green haired rider will see a handsome human man on the path ahead who seems to be wandering aimlessly, shading his eyes against the sun. He's dressed in a maroon jacket and dark, well worn clothes, and it looks like he's been traveling for a while. Seeming to notice her approach, he raises a hand in greeting.

"Hello there! I'm rather lost, perhaps you can help me?" Brushing his long blonde hair from his face, he gives her a hopeful smile.

[Morty]

[Hunting]

Ah, crap. Another one? Someone who got winged by the anomaly but didn't return to where he came. Or maybe he's just plain lost the usual way. In any case, best help him get out of here.

"Maybe I can. Do you need directions to the nearest road? It's an easy place to get lost in."

[Earl of Purple]

Under the Sea

"Th' big gods where I be from, they don't be minglin' wi' mortals much. They do be sendin' angels an' what-not on occasion, though. I never met one." Frigate shrugs about the gods and angels.

"Aye, ye may have a soul, but ye be a direct copy o' yer creator, aye? Carved in his image an' intended t' learn? Not so I, I be a bodyguard built t' fight an' defend me creator. An' in that I failed; he drowned th' first time th' vessel I be aboard wrecked. It were a storm, nothin' t' fight save th' weather an' the waves." It was a long time ago, as it happens. Frigate's mostly over it, and blames his creator more than he blames himself. There was physically nothing he could have done that would have saved his creator's life, and did what he could have besides.

[quillpleasant]

Hunting

"Oh, thanks, that's... that's very kind of you," the man replies cheerfully, nodding in thanks, "But I'm actually looking for someone? She's an old friend of mine, I haven't seen her recently but... well, I've done a little divination and I got some kind of worrying information so I wanted to check in on her."

He stares into space for a second, then looks over at the rider with an embarrassed chuckle. "Sorry, I don't want to get you embroiled in my problems. But I learned that she was in the Nexus, and my search has led me here... you wouldn't happen to have met a Sestrie ever? Blue skin, four arms, pretty distinctive?" He looks at her curiously, eyes wide and guileless.

From high above, Nathair's primary body watches the exchange, his gold eye gleaming as he zooms in on the two of them. There's the distinct possibility that this will turn nasty, so the more information, the better. Focusing, he scans the woman and her mount for any magical auras, as well as peering through her equipment and body for any hidden weapons or inhuman physiology. The vision can be foiled by powerful wards or heavy metals, but most people aren't walking around with lead sheets in their bags.

[Morty]

[Hunting]

The green-haired woman appears human in every respect, but there's an undeniable power to her. Dormant, for now, but ready to be brought forth when she wants. It permeates her every aspect. Her mount is bound to her in some way, but otherwise mostly mundane.

Her sandals might draw Nathair's attention too, as they brim with magic. On closer inspection they also stand in strange contrast to her simple attire, as they're made of rich mahogany, adorned with mother of pearl and bound with golden cords. Each of them also has a nail of strange metal driven through it, which serves not so much as the locus of their power but something that holds them together. Just what it means might require in-depth study.

"Sestrie? No, never heard of her. And I haven't seen anyone by this description."

The answer comes after a brief pause to think, but by all appearances it's an honest one.

[quillpleasant]

Hunting

Well, it's no surprise that this woman has some kind of power. What's more notable is the sandals. Those would be a very nice prize... perhaps a way to kill two birds with one stone. Pleasing Ilpholin certainly takes priority over Svartha's mission.

Wait, does it? Didn't Svartha say that Sestrie could doom the expansion of Phyrexia on this plane? Why doesn't he care more about that? It's a troubling recognition of his priorities, and Nathair quickly compartmentalizes his mind further so he doesn't have to worry about it right now.

The Nathair on the ground tilts his head questioningly. "Really? Oh man, that's weird. A little bird told me you might have seen her." He purses his lips. "Think really hard. It would have been around the time you fought Glizz... you know, that goblin guy that you bruised with the chintzy porcelain soldiers. Nice going with that, by the way, he's insufferable."

He begins to casually stroll in a circle around her. "I wouldn't want to have to do anything to jog your memory, so I'm hoping that sounds familiar." The man's charming smile is growing wide and distinctly unpleasant.

[Morty]

[Hunting]

Shit. The famed paranoia of the Sidereal Exalted failed Hiep. This guy is anyone but a lost traveler.

"...I don't know who told you that, but she wasn't there. And you really don't know who you're threatening right now."

[TeChameleon]

[Under the Sea]

Eddie made a wry noise. "The 'mingling' wasn't exactly their idea, in either case. Us getting dumped in Asgard was Grogamagog's teleport spell going wonky, and running into the Greeks was when we were at the Bay of Naples, something something Titanomachia, Tartarus opening, yadda yadda... getting a phonecall from the oracle at Delphi was a bit surreal, I have to admit... woman's not much more coherent over the phone than she is over her fume-pit or whatever it's called."

"And I wasn't a deliberate copy of my pater... wasn't even carved, actually. Just rock, kaboom, me. As far as he ever told me, and as far as anyone else I talked to about it could figure, I came about because of a botch- he tried to make a golem with a learning childhood, yes, but he also decided to make that golem draw power from the Earth's mana field at the same time. I suppose I should be thankful I'm only as screwed up as I am."

The little golem waggled an uncertain hand, turning slightly towards Frigate as they walked. "So I'm a mistake; I don't see why that would make me any more likely to have a soul than you. Then again, my soul or lack thereof seems to confuse the gods themselves, so..."

"And I'm sorry to hear about your creator. It was cruel of him to build you to defend and then put himself in a situation that could not be defended against." Eddie had opinions on golemcrafters that hard-coded functions into sapient golems, but he would keep them to himself for the moment. He was also wondering why Frigate's creator didn't build some sort of liferaft functionality or similar into his supposed seagoing bodyguard, but once again, he wasn't going to voice it.

[Earl of Purple]

Under the Sea

"Simple, I weren't built t' have a childhood. Learnin' ain't me purpose. I c'n do it, an' I have, but it don't come naturally t' me. Not like carin' for me siblings be." The pair of pistols Frigate usually has at his waist, as well as his cutlass; made by the same warsmith, and enchanted by him too, if they could talk they'd be Frigate's family. "So I be soulless f'r that reason, that an' me father's rush in makin' me." Eddie had already noticed Frigate was well-made, but in some respects suboptimal. His inability to nod, for example, as his neck doesn't bend- only swivel. His inability to recharge, ensuring one day (unless he moves under the sea) he'll run out of charge and die. His chunky fingers limiting his manual dexterity. The sheer bulk and weight of his body, making running and jumping far harder than it should be, and occasionally meaning he falls through the floor. That, combined with the fact that warsmiths don't specialise in making constructs, might mean that adding a lifeboat functionality was either beyond Frigate's father's technical capabilities or beyond his time constraints.

[TeChameleon]

[Under the Sea]

"... can your warsmiths inject souls, then?" Eddie asked after a moment, fascinated. Even his own creator had been reasonably certain that if souls were involved with his creations, they weren't his doing. Although he'd never been able to find a deity willing to admit to that particular bit of meddling.

"Speaking of that rush, if you are interested, I believe that I could make replacement parts for you, or at least prosthetics, that would make your day-to-day living easier. While I cannot animate a golem, at least not directly, I have a century's worth of experience working under my world's greatest golemcrafter, and much of that was spent fashioning the physical forms of the golems my pater would then give life to. You are already animate, and I am well-experienced in fashioning replacement limbs and similar for my own siblings."

[Earl of Purple]

Under the Sea

"Some, aye. Several ways t' do it, methinks. One be necromancy, stealin' a soul from somewhere else an' chainin' it t' th' construct's figure. That be dark an' unpleasant. Second be a prayer, gettin' a priest t' bless th' works regular an' hope it works th' way ye want. Third be bindin' yer own soul t' the construct, makin' it a new body fer when ye die. Fourth be a direct plea t' a relevant god an' hope they smile. It don't work often enough an' my father din't do that with I. Though me first cap'n poured cheap rum over me head when first I climbed aboard, an' named me Frigate. Me maker never actually named me." The necromantic option is generally illegal, and not always the most successful- unless you mind having a warforged with memories of someone else's life. Second is the most reliable legal method, though also the most expensive; priests need paying, even if they frame it as 'donations to the church'. Third is rare, only a handful of known warsmiths have done it. Fourth is most common, at least to attempt. Not always successfully; some true masters manage it, and Frigate's maker wasn't a master warsmith. The ship's captain, however? Naming Frigate in the same way he'd name a new ship so the seas treat it favourably? Davy Jones paid attention to that.

"Mayhaps I'll take ye up on that, though mostly I be able t' repair meself. If'n I got me arms, I be pretty handy. Rebuilt me head last year 'r the year afore, mission went... bit sideways. Olvisin an' her siblin's had t' guide me home." Eddie's met Olvisin, though at the time she didn't have her cybernetic arms yet.

[quillpleasant]

[Hunting]

Shit. The famed paranoia of the Sidereal Exalted failed Hiep. This guy is anyone but a lost traveler.

"...I don't know who told you that, but she wasn't there. And you really don't know who you're threatening right now."

Hunting

Nathair just shrugs at the warning. "Maybe you're telling the truth, maybe not. But I have to be sure, you know. And I know exactly what I'm dealing with, I've faced your kind before." It's a half lie, but he knows enough to be wary. But not enough to give up.

"I'm also quite interested in those shoes of yours, though. So if you hand those over, we can part ways on good terms. Otherwise..." He steps forward menacingly, his mouth stretching unnaturally wide to reveal razorlike metallic teeth. "Things will get really fun for me."

[Morty]

[Hunting]

"Want my shoes?" Hiep smiles and raises her eyebrows. "That's not what I was expecting."

Then she's out of the saddle, leaping through the air and trying to land on Nathair's face with a downwards kick. Two things become apparent - Hiep is extremely strong and the sandals multiply the force of her attack as power hums through them.

[quillpleasant]

Hunting

Nathair makes no attempt to dodge the kick, and it seems quite effective. Too effective.. The blow smashes through the man in red, bisecting him and slamming into the ground. Each half collapses to the side, falling into piles of black sand.

Which immediately reform on either side of Hiep as an identical copy of the first Nathair, save for the fact that their arms now end in vicious metal spikes.

"Were you expecting this?" he asks from two mouths at once before attacking in tandem, flanking Hiep and unleashing a flurry of blows, blurring in speed as he stabs and thrusts. The attack is perfectly coordinated so that when he attacks low from one side, the other side attacks high, making it difficult to block or dodge simultaneously.

[Morty]

[Hunting]

Hiep seems to realize that she can't avoid attacks from both directions simultaneously, which is why she... doesn't? She blocks a few strikes from one side, but she leaves herself open to the other one. At which point Nathair will find that her skin is hard as iron and what wounds he inflicts don't seem to phase Hiep much.

And when the attack connects, Hiep's eyes glow yellow as she snaps forward to grab her attacker and fling him at the other Nathair like a rag doll.

[quillpleasant]

Hunting

Hiep's grapple is successful, and she sends one Nathair flying into the other with little effort. In fact, he's strangely light for someone made of metal due to the way his density adjusts when he makes more or less bodies.

But rather than sending them tumbling away, the thrown Nathair is smoothly absorbed by the other, leaving a single warrior once more. He nods, seemingly impressed.

"You're tough, I'll give you that! Your skin is harder than most armor. I wonder if you'd shatter like metal too?" His arms change, shifting from metallic spikes into large rotating drills, which spin into action with a high pitched whine. "Only one way to find out!"

He lunges, striking at her sternum with one drill as a feint while jabbing at her leg with the other. These drills are designed to bore through solid rock and metal, although usually with consistent force. Still, they're certainly more dangerous than the spikes.

[TeChameleon]

[Under the Sea]

Eddie listened to Frigate's explanation of ensoulling golems, clearly fascinated.

"You were christened? Like a ship?" Eddie asked when Frigate finished. "That... sounds like it could attract some attention in certain circles. Could be connected to why you don't burn mana when you're underwater, come to think of it."

"Olvisin... oh, the cyborg goblin and her twin that hang out in the armoury? I've met them, they seem like good people. I'm impressed that you could re-build your own head; my own pater didn't tend to make his constructs that modular. If my siblings or I lost our head, we'd be done. No more us. But yeh- I was thinking mostly that I could build you a pair of hands that worked for finer tasks as well as for combat, since I work well with granite. Or even a pair that you could swap in for fine tasks, then back to your usual for combat, if that's what you'd prefer." Apparently, discovering how modular Frigate is giving Eddie ideas.

[Earl of Purple]

Under th' Sea

"Hm. Mayhaps. I ne'er really considered it. An' aye, though she had arms o' meat an' bone when we went. She's nay a twin, though. Ye met half o' them, they be quadlings." Not the word, Frigate. You mean 'quadruplets'. "It were tricky, rebuildin' me head. Couldn't see nor speak wi'out it. But all I be needin' t' continue be deep in me chest." The mana batteries and a few other important components, which Frigate would be a lot more nervous about letting Eddie play with. Not because he doesn't trust Eddie, and more that Eddie is a metaphorical doctor and not a metaphorical heart surgeon. It's also why his breastplate is so heavily reinforced magically; it could take a direct hit from a cannon. (And it has, though it knocked Frigate overboard since the energy of the blast had to go somewhere.

Shuffling towards the two constructs out of the murk are a small group of emaciated and ragged figures, fourteen in total. A small cloud of fish follow after, pecking at the decomposing flesh of the zombies. They're wearing the ragged remains of modern clothing; eight in chest-waders and heavy coats, two in stained business suits, one in a road-scarred lycra racing cyclist outfit (that one's got a fishing hook embedded in its cheek, the carbon-fibre rod bobbing in the water behind it), one wearing a pair of swimming trunks and goggles, one in a pair of shorts and a billowing hawaiian shirt and the last wearing a black fast-food uniform. They're going to ignore Frigate and Eddie, continuing on their aimless wandering into the deeps. They aren't animated by magic, instead infected with some supernatural disease.

[Morty]

[Hunting]

Dammit, that usually works. Whoever this guy is, he means business. Instead of risking another direct clash, Hiep retreats, leaping back to get some distance and figure out her next move.

Once, there was a maiden...
...whose shadow fled from her. She chased it over fire and stone.

When she lands, her shadow springs to life around her, turning into countless black thorns that encircle her hands and limbs. She then waits for Nathair to approach, fists raised.

"So, where did you meet another of 'my kind'? We're not exactly common."