Never Bean So Surprised

(aka how Krell found her festival plant)

A year and a half earlier...

As Krell stepped outside of her home, a tow-headed Neran boy of about 10 raced up to her, exclaiming, “Krell, Krell, we need you out at the farm. My da is hurt bad!”

“What happened, Torney?” she asked calmly.

“One of our oxen went crazy and gored him and he's bleeding bad!” the boy exclaimed, fear large in his eyes.

Nodding, Krell stepped back inside her home and retrieved her bandage kit and slung it over the opposite shoulder from her healer's satchel.

Locking her door, she asked Torney, “Can you ride a horse?”

The boy replied matter-of-factly, “Of course.”

“Very well, then. Let's go to the inn and saddle up my horse.” She had a good relationship with the innkeepers of the Plow and Anchor, Pag Drealis and his wife Toshie, and gave the couple free medical treatments in exchange for being able to stable her purebred mare Silversea there for free.

Arriving at the inn some 10 minutes later, she greeted the stableboy Aldren and asked him to saddle up her mare. He nodded, and soon she and Torney were galloping toward the Mantralda farm.

When they arrived at the farm, Torney's mother Katrin came rushing out. “Oh, thank the Virtues!” she exclaimed, tucking a stray strand of honey blonde hair behind her ear. “I think I've got Herv's bleeding under control, but I'll feel much better after you look at him.”

Krell nodded and went in to examine the farmer. She cleaned the wound and bandaged it, then mixed up a salve to help with healing once the wound closed. She also left some herbs with Katrin to mix up as needed for pain.

Once she was satisfied Herv was in no immediate danger, she asked him, “So do you know why your ox turned on you? You might not survive if this happens again.”

Herv replied tersely, “I know why this happened and it won't be happening again.”

Krell assumed that the reason was something that the farmer was embarrassed by, so she didn't pry. “See that it doesn't. You don't like visits from me, and I don't like visiting you either for reasons like this.” She grinned to show she was teasing.

The stolid farmer grumbled, but nodded. Katrin came in and assured her, “I'll make sure he stays down.”

As she went to take her leave, Katrin brought a bag out to her. Krell peeked inside and saw a few hundred white seeds the size of a small pebble that she didn't recognize. She gave Katrin a quizzical look.

Katrin said, “Herv's been growing an experimental crop, and those seeds are part of the harvest. Do you know what spireflowers are?”

Krell didn't recognize the name, so she shook her head.

Katrin said, “They're wildflowers that are fairly common in the spring. I don't know what their actual name is, but Herv calls them spireflowers, because the they have pointy tops just like a spire. At any rate, I guess a bunch of them got into one of our fields last year and Herv never got around to pulling them out due to various unexpected repairs that had to be done. When the flowers went to seed, we harvested the pods with the idea of maybe planting some of them in the front yard.”

“I put the seeds into a pouch and set them aside for planting this spring. When spring came around, I put them into a bucket and left it outside, thinking I'd get out to plant them. About that time, Torney came down with the pox, then Subie got it, and I was so busy nursing them that I forgot about planting those seeds. We had a lot of rain during that time, and by the time I found the bucket again, they'd plumped up and clearly weren't good for planting. Herv and I both thought they looked like beans at that point, but they were starting to mold up. Herv had some of the same seeds from elsewhere, so we decided to plant some experimentally and see if they really are beans. I've been soaking a batch now for about 10 days and they have become noticeably less bitter. I'm hoping that within the next week, the bitterness will be completely gone.”

Krell said, “Bitterness can sometimes indicate the presence of toxins. As a way of keeping animals from eating the plant, I guess.”

She then took her leave from the Mantraldas and returned to town. Knowing she would be likely to forget about beans that needed to soak for 10+ days, she went to the Plow and Anchor to restable Silversea and then went back into the kitchen to find the Drealis' cook, Nansy. She held out the bag of maybe-beans to the rotund gray-haired woman and explained everything that Katrin had told her about preparing the beans.

“I don't know if it will work, but Katrin said the beans were becoming less bitter after 10 days of soaking.”

Squinting, Nansy asked, “Should I leave them in the same water for these 10+ days?”

Krell replied, “I wouldn't. If the bitterness is evidence of toxins, the more fresh water you can soak them in, the more of those toxins will get washed away. I say change the water at least once a day and preferably twice.”

Nansy nodded and took the bag.

Two and a half weeks later...

After a long day of herb-gathering, Krell walked into the Plow and Anchor around 4 pm one afternoon to grab a bite to eat. She waved to Toshie, who was busy sweeping the floor.

Looking up from her sweeping, Toshie smiled at her and said, “Oh, it's good to see you, Krell. Looks like you've been out gathering herbs.”

Krell nodded, pulling her herb basket off her back and setting it down at her feet. “Yeah, I had a few things I was out of. How are you and Pag doing?”

“We're just fine. Busy with the inn as always. You here for some food?”

Krell nodded. “I am. Didn't each much breakfast and only ate a honeycake at lunch. I worked hard today and am famished for something more hearty. What's your special today?”

Toshie said, “Nansy whipped up a special stew using a new recipe that has been especially popular. Would you like a bowl?”

“Please. And I'd also like two slices of whatever meat you have available as well as a serving of whatever bread you have on hand.”

“Right now, we only have chicken for the meat and cross buns for the bread.”

“That will be fine,” Krell told her.

When Toshie returned several minutes later with Krell's food, she told her, “Nansy tells me we have you to thank for the stew's popularity.”

“Me?” replied Krell, honestly confused. “But I can barely cook the most basic of dishes.”

Toshie said, “Why don't you take a bite of the stew?”

Studying the stew, Krell thought she recognized most of the ingredients. The only thing she didn't recognize was a deep yellow bean somewhat larger than a kernel of yellow corn. She obediently raised a spoonful of the stew to her mouth and began chewing. The stew was well spiced and the vegetables were well cooked but not soggy. The yellow beans had a slightly nutty flavor that added an interesting undertone to the flavor of the stew. She eagerly took another mouthful.

“It's very good,” Krell agreed after she had swallowed the second mouthful. “But I really can't imagine how I'm responsible for this.”

Cocking her head, Toshie said, “Nansy said you left a bag of beans with her a few weeks ago that you got from the Mantraldas. Is that not true?”

Remembering now, Krell said. “Yeah, it's true.” Then she chuckled, “I'd almost forgotten about that.”

“We do have a few burning questions. What are these beans called? We've also had farmers wanting to grow them and haven't known what to tell them.”

Remembering everything the Mantraldas told her, Krell replied, “Tell people to talk to Herv Mantralda about how to grow them, but as for the name, just call them spire beans.”

Far From Home (cont.)

The Visitor dimmed the light at the top of the stairs as he pushed against the door he found there.

It opened into a well lit room with three people inside. They were sitting at a rectangular wooden table in the center of the room.

"Welcome," The well dressed, attractive Neran woman repeated as the door closed silently behind him.

She was obviously some type of noble. It was apparent in both her carriage and disposition. As well as the tone of voice she used.

She was used to getting her way without question.

And it was She who was obviously in charge here.

Beside her at the table were two very distinct and disparate looking Kypiq.

He assessed each one briefly.

On the left was a wild haired youngster who had the distinctive aura of an alchemist. The Visitor had met a few of their kind in his travels. They were not always stable. That would also explain the worktable in the corner of the chamber, with it's array of bubbling pots and braziers.

The one on the right was an older one. Wizened and bookish, he seemed to be some type of scholar. It was the looks of the robes and the ink stains around the edges of the sleeves that gave him away.

Reaching into the pouch on his hip, he now answered The Lady

"And the agreed upon price?" The Visitor asked.

"It has already been taken care of with your people." She replied haughtily.

He knew that to be true. He would not have been their if it hadn't. But it was part of the formula and formality of the process.

"My merchandise?" She asked a second time.

He doubted there would be a third.

Placing the object on the table in front of her, he watched her reaction.

Peering down at it, she took it in her hands.

And smiled.

It was not a smile he thought he would ever like to see again.

(cont...)

Donovan Piquesby could not have been more nervous. Several times Momma had told him to go get an ale and leave her be at the stall, he was just getting in the way of sales. It was true, when he was nervous he became short tempered and twice scowled at patrons when they inquired about the workmanship of the pieces they sold.

They had brought the finest things An'dalucia had to offer. Master level ironwork, stone carvings and statues, and some of the rare white wolf pelts from up north. An'dalucians were a proud bunch, their homes well kept, the delving swept daily and the people learned. The value they placed on learning was high. Whether that be in a tradeskill or architectural engineering, years of study and apprenticeships were the norm.

Donovan himself was a hunter and game warden, a fancy way of saying ranger. A Hrothi ranger differed from his Kypiq neighbors in that they quelled the numbers of overpopulated species if necessary. Outside of that they had similar duties to guard against poaching, over fishing and illegal logging. He was never far from his battle axe and bow though lately the only battle the axe has seen has been with dead trees. Even now his axe and bow were in a trunk in the wagon, not necessary here in the City of Infinite Blooms but the road to and from is unpredictable.

So here he sat in a beergarten awaiting the results from the Flora contest. A pretty young waitress was bringing him another two steins. (a Hrothi rarely lets his cup run dry) As she placed them upon the table he tossed her a copper. Catching it nimbly, she looked at him curiously,

"Have we met?"

Discovery (Cont'd)

Renna stood at the front gates in light armor, a simple chest piece over breezy sleeveless robes. Her spear, a foot taller than the woman herself, glinted beneath Mytharbor's brilliant sun. Though many places in the duchy remained under a thick shade, its coast offered visitors and residents alike the opportunity to catch some rays and work on a tan. Owing to this, the spearwoman's paler complexion was nothing short of remarkable.

"Abae!" she shouted, finally catching sight of her employer, "You've had me waiting out here for three hours. When. Will. You. Stop. Being. Late?"

Abae Inkcharm, a Kypiq who was curiously clad in brown, flexible leathers and sporting more than a few unnecessary addition to her pack for the road, bounded up to greet Renna. "Someday, Renna. Someday." A day far, far in the future, they were both sure.

Renna walked to match her companion's pace. Little legs could only go so fast, but the Kypiq's endurance always surprised her, sometimes even outlasting her own. Such was the natural outcome of spending a her time making maps and charts on the road. "What is it about this cave that makes it so different from the rest?" Renna finally decided to ask, following a few hours of walking, "You've marked plenty on the maps, and seen plenty more drawn up and put down by others, but you never called me out to go inside them. Why fancy a delve now, of all times?"

Abae kept her pace, but the squint overtaking those owlish eyes hinted at a pensive inner dialogue. "Well," she began, "It comes down to the geography. A cave is a cave is a cave. Some have people in them, or things, maybe even some treasure troves or nasty critters. Plenty hold metal, and others become mines. But this one, this one is positioned juuuust close enough to the coast that I had to wonder... Could it connect? Because if it does, well that could be reason enough to get a team down here and brainstorm what to do with it. I don't care so much about caves, Renna. I care about whether a cave is actually a tunnel, and where the ends of it spill out. This one caught my interest."

"...So it was just a whim," Renna stated flatly.

"A whim indeed..." Abae admitted, right when they arrived at the mouth of it. Both women turned an eye east to the sparkling ocean, and then looked back into the deep dark of daring adventure. "...I also try to avoid visiting because I miss enough sunlight as it is these days, managing the city, managing the county, managing the coalition. I really think I owe myself a getaway, hey, did you see a letter from Luminin recently? It should be getting to around that time again."

The Wrong Bar.

As Aquinnah got up, Allerdyce instructed her to meet him at the docks, in not to short of a time. She left, giggling and skipping and Allerdyce frowned. What did he just agree to? As he got up he looked over and saw a Hrothi girl reading books. He looked at her thoughtfully for a moment. She looked similar to the young lad he had been thrown out with the day prior. He shrugged and got up. The night was growing thicker, and Allerdyce wanted a meal. He searched the city for an interesting pub to spend the old Kypiq’s money at. He kept the flower he had bought tucked in his coat pocket, sticking out a bit. He made his way up the city, into the mid level. The bridges and walks that threaded through the tree limbs were breathtaking. Allerdyce thought the Kypiq were rather good builders. He soon found a lively pub, full of Kypiq. The entrance was almost too small for Allerdyce to enter normally. Almost. He entered and the merriment went silent for a moment while a myriad of Kypiq stared at him. He gave them a wry smile and a nod, before taking an almost to small seat near the back.

He leaned back in the chair, waiting for a bar maid to come take his order. No one came. He looked around. Everyone had since returned back to their conversations, and the performer had begun playing his reed pipe again. Allerdyce could see, there really wasn’t anyone but Kypiq here. None of them looked his way. Until this point, every Kypiq in the town had been nothing but kind and welcoming. He also noted that, this tiny pub, had not put up any colorful decorations like the rest of the town.

“A dive… Great.” Allerdyce said as he glanced around. At that moment, a well dressed Kypiq with two “strongmenn” at his sides approached Allerdyce.

“What are you doing here, To’resk? Far from the wetlands no?” The small Kypiq was menacing for his size. The two strongmenn at his sides grinned with malice at Allerdyce.

“Mate, I’m just here for some rum.” Allerdyce replied quietly. The Kypiq noticed his flower.

“A sailor are you? You look like a common pirate. What is your name?” The Kypiq was a serious fellow, and his tone was nothing but condescending. Allerdyce didn’t care for this situation. Although he carried a sword, he’d rather use words.

“Aye mate, just here for the festival. Not looking for trouble.” Allerdyce said. His tone was quiet, and not as loose as normal. The Kypiq looked at him through a harsh gaze.

“Well, you got trouble, To’resk… You walk into my tavern, uninvited with a sword. You stink up my tables with the stench of low tide. You insult my barmaids with your presence. You wear a flower of such expense, and unmatched by your look. Are you really so dim as to not realize where you are?” The Kypiq wasn’t playing around. His strongmenn unsheathed daggers and brandished them at Allerdyce. The pirate Captain knew where he was now… A Kypiq crime den. How in the blaze did he end up in a Kypiq crime den? “A fine mess you’re in now” he mused.

Allerdyce leaned forward to whisper to the Kypiq.

“Mate, I’ll go, if that’s what ye want. No need to cause a scene.”

“A scene!?” The Kypiq shouted. “You’ve already caused a scene! Take him for what he’s worth boys!” And with that, he stepped back as his two goons lunged at Allerdyce. Allerdyce was quick, and used the same trick he had on the Hrothi. He leaned his chair far back until it hit the ground and kicked one of the Kypiq up and over as the other flew by, missing him by a millimeter. The pub erupted into shouts as more goons came out from the back. Allerdyce rolled backwards and got up. He dodged the various blows aimed at him. Some fists, others daggers. A sword was drawn, and Allerdyce instinctively drew his own. He turned around and backed up toward a window. The Kypiq swordsmenn slashed and Allerdyce parried with a clang of steel. Allerdyce wasn’t to much bigger than the Kypiq. He wished he were as big as a Brudvir at this moment though. He ducked a few blows, and drunkenly swaggered, almost falling over, as he parried the swordsmenn. He looked very unsteady, but never once did he fall over. Luck or skill, no one could say, but Allerdyce held back the mob of Kypiq gangsters with his cutlass. Finally, he kicked the swordsmenn back, and grabbed onto a streamer that was fluttering over the outside of the window. He jumped out of the open frame, and held on for dear life. The Kypiq rushed to the window, looking at him. Some exited the bar, heading for ziplines and ladders down.

Allerdyce looked up and screamed in fear as the red streamer started to rip. As it tore, Allerdyce flew down toward the ground! He tucked and rolled as he reached the forest floor, and started running for his life. He ran like a mad mann, until he was really lost in Verdantia. He looked back over his shoulder, to make sure no Kypiq were following him.

“I need to get back to the docks… I made no friends tonight.” He said as he sheathed his cutlass and started looking for his way around.

Luminin turned to see who was in such a hurry at this time of day, "The Dye Dash was hours past, so why the rush?" Realizing it was the To'resk mann, Allerdyce that he'd dinned with just the other day he called, "Ahoy there matey Allerdyce! Why're ye in such a..." Luminin trailed off as a group of Kypiq ruffians poured into the street clearly intent on the gentlemann.

Luminin stepped around his acquaintance, hands on his hips and a hard look in his eyes, the first in the group coming to a sudden stop, those behind bumping into them.

Spotting their leader near the back, Luminin pointed at him and then made a come-here gesture with a finger.

The Kypiq sheepishly stepped to the front and greeted Luminin while ringing the bottom of his shirt nervously, "Good afternoon, Governor."

"Afternoon ta ye, Mister Briarson. May I inquire as ta yer treatment o' this gentlemann?" Luminin asked with uncharacteristic flintiness.

Briarson cleared his throat and straightened up, "Nothing of your concern, just a little... missunderstanding. He was where he shouldn't have been is all."

"Aye? Well I trust yer business be concluded now, hmm?" Luminin asked.

Briarson released his twisted up shirt and stated with a growl, "As a matter, no. We have yet to even begin our..."

"Yer business IS concluded and ye'll not seek to resume such with this mann for the remainder of his stay." Luminin interrupted.

Turning red in the face Briarson spat, "No offense Governor, but we will be proceeding, Right. This. Moment."

As Briarson and his posse took a collective step forward, Luminin gave them a predatory grin and quietly said, "Thorngarde, present yerself."

Seemingly between moments, Luminin's shadow stepped sideways forming a Kypiq who stood just behind and to the right of the Governor. Covered from head to foot in flowing black silk, like living shadow. In a dark, whisper soft voice, "You called for us?"

"Aye. Please escort this group back to thearr...inn. Then continue ta watch 'em til this gentlemann leaves th' city." Luminin said gesturing toward Allerdyce. Not once did he look away from Briarson, who had stopped dead in his tracks, visibly paled and begun to shake noticeably.

Without another word, the Thorngarde nodded once and then stepped into the shadow of an Ironwood, vanishing without a sound. Briarson turned and bodily fled with his people, even faster than they'd arrived.

Noticing Allerdyce staring at the place where the Thorngarde had vanished Luminin said in his usual bright, sing-song voice, "The prettiest roses oft' have th' sharrrpest thorns. Ye don't normally see 'em until they... GET'CHA!" Luminin gave a deep belly laugh.

"Also, if ye be wonderin' about me accent, today be Talk like a Pirate Day, as so dacreed by th' Duke 'imself!" Luminin said with a twinkle in his eyes as he pointed up to the banner who's installation he'd been overseeing before the interruption.

It was as vivid as any other banner, but it's bright colors seemed to drain away to grey as it neared the standard upon it, a black Jolly Roger.

NOTICE - DOUBLE POINTS AWARDED TODAY TO THOSE THAT SUBMIT A CREATIVE WRITING/RP TALKING LIKE A PIRATE! ONLY ~11 HOURS REMAINING (midnight est) IN THE DAY, SO PLEASE HURRY!

Flora Submission

There was no better day to show off what she'd found. Abae Inkcharm sauntered up to the judges, Luminin, Quintero, and Vig included, then plopped her backpack onto the floor. "I hear ye tell of a special day, a day when the jolly roger flies on every mast. Avast! For talk like a pirate day, no better flower exists than the one I've brought, on a day as wild as this!"

Abae reached into her bag, and pulled out a glass globe, hollow on the inside, and half filled with water. Within it sat what looked like a lone lily pad (or should I say Lilli Pad!), green, sturdy, but with a key feature. Upon the top of it was a white flower with a three petals that stretched up high rather than out, allowing the entire plant sloshing in its container to take on the guise of a ship. "Step up now, all ye rum-bellied barnacles, and bear witness to the Sailblossom! A brilliant white piece, a new discovery from the coastal caves of Aomori, but no doubt all about up and down or stretch of the ocean. Cap'n Luminin," she turned an eye towards the Governor, "Ye promised me if I went for Blossom Soup, you'd bring yerself and all the rest of them down with me for a jog to the coast. Time to make good on that! Besides, there be no better time to visit Port Royale than on a day celebrating pirates, privateers, and all who make their life plunderin' the high seas."

Sure enough, no matter how much any of them protested, Abae wasn't going to take no for an answer. She returned flower to pack, pack to back, and grabbed the Governor by his wrist to drag him straight out the door -- with the legs of a genuine MythARRRbor explorer, she had the power. Blue water sparkled, sunshine beckoned them to one of the lower ledges north of Vigorish's city, and sure enough they wound up sitting on soft blankets Abae had arranged for them prior to coming. Well, she'd had someone else arrange them. A tall, spearwielding woman with black hair, seemingly orange eyes, and no easily discernible tribe was awaiting them, and looking rather annoyed. She was definitely going to get frown lines ten years too early.

"Renna! Ye prepared everything marvelously. Is the final piece set?" Abae asked, to which her employee sighed.

"Yes Abae, its all set. Can you just stop talking like that already? It was bad enough in the town, and now you're doing it in front of all of them..."

"They be in on it, wench. Now gentlemen, come closer. Look out over the ridge, and you'll see my /true/ entry for the Festival of Colors. You might have to squint but... Wait for it..." Abae motioned with a thumbs up to Renna, who placed her fingers between her lips, letting out a long, high whistle. Less than a quarter mile off from their ledge, something blinked into view.

Carried with the wind, tiny white and green dots gradually got larger, until they were floating right past, picking up speed as their "sails" filled, and kept them near the shore. It was an entire fleet of bobbing Sailblossoms, holding together in tight formation. "That," Abae told them, "Is my entry. They grow in salt water and seem to move with the wind, responding to cooling temperatures by stretching their three biggest petals, I call them sail petals, out farther. The one I brought to you didn't look too healthy because I had to cut it from the rest, typically they have interconnected vascular systems beneath the water, making the fleet out to be the true individual. Separated they don't do well, at least not unless they're somewhere sheltered, with plenty of good water. Thank you for coming out this far, Cap'n. It took some time to get them all safely up here to Port Royale for the show, but maybe they'll establish along the coasts of our Capital as well. Maybe..." She looked on wistfully, as the fleet continued to float by, "They do seem built for adventure, don't you think? Even if they don't stay, those blossoms will be a fitting representative of our home wherever they land out abroad."

Memoirs of a Monk, Entry 3

In autumn of my fourth year of life, my father took me on a trip far from our home in Darksun End. That is to say, in reality it was only a single day’s travel, but for a boy whose world was so far only as large as the valley surrounding his hometown, this was an expedition into uncharted territory. But the destination was just as full of marvels as, if not more so than, the journey. It was the Festival of Colors in the city of Verdantia, a celebration which wouldn’t occur until I was well into my fifth decade.

By the time my father and I left home for the festivities, most of the town had already vacated. The ones who remained were either too beset by old age, too preoccupied by their work, or had fallen too ill to be anywhere but home. As luck would have it, I fell into the latter category. For the first week of the Festival, my father stayed by my bedside as I battled the Searing Plague. What a blessing it was, then, that we lived in a time of great medicinal strides! In addition to having my first taste of spiced ale, I was given a special inoculation treatment to help my body fight the infection. Though the worst of the sickness had past several days before we left, my father wished to ensure I was fully well before we set off.

So, a week late yet no less eager, my father took the reins of our horse and cart at the crack of dawn and we began the day of travel. Our route took us around the Redboar Ridge mountains, downriver from Faeville, within spitting distance of the Tower of Talqamar, and finally we had our supper in a little hamlet called Aleworth where my father introduced me to an old friend of his. Unlike the rest of the town's inhabitants, I recall that this mann had a short snow-white beard, and was very tall--taller even than my father! I learned later that this friend was a priest of the Neran people for much of his life, but settled as a hermit among the Kypiq during his twilight years. Though my father often argued with him about the role of the Virtues in our world--whether our faith served as our Sword or our Shield--the pair always fell back on their friendship.

After we ate and drank our fill, it was time for the penultimate stretch of our journey. As the sun dipped below the hills at our backs, my father steadied his horse beside that of his friend. As soon as it was completely obscured by the horizon, we took off with a start down the foothills towards the next village. The old manns hollered with laughter as they raced across the plains, while I bounced with delight in the cart trailing behind my father. The race was over in seemingly no time after it started, and though I don't recall who won, I remember laughing mirthfully the rest of the way to Verdantia.

I must have dozed off because the next thing I knew, it was morning and I was tucked in a hammock fashioned out of an enormous leaf. My father was on the other side of the room preparing to deliver a sermon at midday. When asked where we were, he instructed me to look outside. I poked my head out the window to see that we were several yards above the ground inside one of the uncountable arboreal abodes of the city of Verdantia. I had almost regained my composure when all of a sudden a soft object bounced off my head on its way down to the forest floor, leaving behind a plume of bright yellow dust. Running a hand through my hair, it came back as brilliant as a daffodil. The perpetrator of this colorful assault, a young Kypiq girl somewhat older than I, giggled as she ducked back into her own treehouse. Were this any indication of the events to come during the Festival of Colors, I knew it not. I knew one thing though: if I ever saw that girl again, I would respond in kind with my own colored dust!

Con't

"No Lass, last time I was in Verdantia you hadn't been born." Still looking at him quizzically she said, "Strange, you look familiar." Perking up and smiling she said "No worries luv, just wave when ye need 'nother, my names Annybelle but you can call me Anny." Donovan watched as she bounced merrily to the next table. "It is pleasent here," he thought. "The gardens and the sunshine make the place very hospitable." The gardens were nothing like he had ever seen. Even as a boy, Verdantia had not been so well....manicured, yes that was the word, manicured.

Donovan was used to the outdoors, unlike many of his brethren, some would be happy to stay underground for eternity. Not him, he much preferred the smell of the forest after the rain, or the feel of sunshine upon his brow.

He could see well across the crowd made almost entirely of Kypiq folk. Passing by the entrance he saw his boy, Killean. "OY! KILLEAN!" He shouted. Nearly the entire crowd stopped and looked at him. "Sorry" he said with a blush to noone in particular. When Killean joined him at his table, Donovan passed him his other stein, instinctively raising his hand and called to Anny. "Two more Anny dear!." Killean shrank in his chair, raising the stein up with both hands.

When Anny returned she exclaimed "AHA!" Donovan looked perplexed as Killean shrank into the table. "I knew I recognized you, you two're kin."

"You've met?" Donovan turned a stern gaze from the lass to his son as she replied.

Killean pounded his beer. "Aye matey, T'day Be Talk like the Pirates Day! Me an this bonnie lass been dancin' in the square all mornin' ain't that right,Anny?"

Smiling ear to ear the red headed Hrothi exclaimed "Aye tis true that it be Talk like a Pirate day, but as fer dancin, I'm not exactly sure what you were doin was considered dancin'!" She let out an amazing laugh that made Killean smile himself

"Then perhaps 'nother lesson is in order? How about tomorrow at noon M'lady?" Killean jived

"Aye noon in the hall then M'lord" She spun around to fetch them their beer. Donovan looked at his son wondering what just happened.

[Following Luminin's post]

The Jolly Roger

Allerdyce was stunned at what had just happened, although his face belayed little more than mild amusement. His eyes skitted across the Kypiq and his guards.

“Ah, Guvna. What a welcome surprise.” Allerdyce said, remembering the Kypiq as the owner of the restaurant he had eaten at the night prior. “I hope me… Friends didn’t cause too much trouble fer ye. Talk like a pirate day you say?”

Allerdyce rubbed his thumb thoughtfully at the idea. What did a pirate sound like he wondered? What did he sound like? He had never really thought of it. His whole life was piracy. He was born into it. Had grown up in it. He sailed the sea his entire life, and only knew the words and ways of sailors, and specifically, pirates. What did other people make of his accent? Of course, his crocais accent layered over his sea speak. He wondered if he sounded as silly as the Kypiq impression of a pirate.

Allerdyce found it strange that a place would celebrate anything related to piracy. In almost every settlement or land he had ever visited, pirates were criminals, only good enough for the hangmann’s noose. Many places even hung pirate skeletons near the docks as a warning to any who may think of mooring. So far, Port Royal, and Verdantia reminded him of a fancier and less debased Bastards Bay. There were no dead pirates swinging in the stiff sea breeze. There also weren’t many Jolly Rogers. He looked up at the one being raised in front of him.

The large banner was far more colorful than his own flag. Its Jolly Roger was a simple skull and cross bones. He thought back to his own ship, and flag. The flag of the Belligerent Bivalve was that of a Kraken wrapped around a ship. Simple, black background with white for the scene. He looked back at the Kypiq Governor and gave a sheepish smile.

“Nice banner mate. Pirates aren’t the usual villains here?” He asked simply.

Far From Home (cont.)

The Lady held The Object before her and stared at it.

It was The Plant.

Still alive and well.

That was what The Visitor had been instructed to painstakingly smuggle into Verdantia with such care for The Festival.

"It's not much to look at." She stated with some disappointment, as she set it upon the table in front of her.

"But we do know looks can be deceiving, don't we?" She continued, looking pointedly at The Visitor.

He simply returned the look without comment.

The Sage squinted his eyes and brows together in a most concentrated fashion as he now adjusted a pair of half spectacles onto his face.

He leaned in closer to peer at The Plant.

"Ah, most interesting" he began, "Assuming you know what you are looking at, Ma'dam."

Reaching deep into the pile of bound tomes he had piled to his side, he selected one and set it on the table next to The Plant.

After opening it and leafing through a few pages, he began to narrate from it.

"Large tap shaped root...Many times the size of the actual plant...Yes...Yes..." He rambled on, as his index finger traced the lines of text as he further attempted to categorized it.

"Multiple, small, flatly rounded bodies of a blue-green color...Yes...Yes...Spineless flesh with well defined ribs and furrows...With tufts of hair equally spaced around the plant..Mmhmm...It certainly looks like it." He finished.

"I'd say this definitely looks like a species of the Lophophora Family." He concluded, nodding his head and snapping the book closed for emphasis.

"Well, that's all good and well then," The younger one spoke up now as he slid a thin scalpel across the edge of the blue-green flesh, carving a thick slice off of it.

"My turn." he said impishly. "Let's see if it is all that they say it is, now shan't we?"

He smiled slyly as he scampered away with his specimen to his work area in the corner.

The Lady kept her poker face as she folded her hands on the table.

She was in no hurry.

It was all part of the process.

The Scholar now began sketching pictures of The Plant onto a sheet of parchment that he had now produced from his pile of books. He scrunched his face up again as he drew. Perhaps it helped his concentration to do so. No matter.

The Visitor simply stood and waited as The Alchemist placed the slice of The Plant into first one solution and then another.

He puttered away for a few minutes more.

Waiting was something The Visitor did often.

It never bothered him.

It was all just part of the job.

Cackling with laughter, The Alchemist turned from his calculations to report.

"Oh, She's gonna do exactly what we need it to do, Ma'am. It will do it indeed." He smiled broadly and joyously. "It's a bit more bitter than I had hoped for, but in the right solution I think it will pass. Especially if the subject has already consumed something that might have upset their system a wee bit first."

Rubbing his hand gleefully together, he now resembled a small and happy child who was very pleased with himself.

"They'll never know what hit 'em, eh? Like nothing they have ever seen. And it should last for a while too. Several hours at the least. Maybe even a day."

He prattled on, like a child tying to impress their parent.

But he was now talking just to himself.

The Lady was no longer listening.

She had heard what she needed to know from the two of them.

Anything else She needed, she knew The Visitor could supply.

All was going according to Her plan.

(cont...)

Discovery Cont'd

"I get that you think everything is fine," Renna grumbled, descending a stretch of wet rock shrouded in cavern darkness, "But how can you be absolutely certain we aren't burning up all our oxygen, or hitting a pocket of noxious gases?"

Abae, making a considerably slower descent, answered between breaths. "You can feel the wind if you're practiced," she began to explain, "And if I'm ever wrong, you've got bigger lungs than me. Think of me as your canary, my thanks for coming along. I'll even give you my word that if I die, half the estate is yours."

"Some good that'll do when nobody else is around to hear your word. If anything, I'll be blamed for it, they'll say it was all an elaborate ruse to seize the port or something stupid like that," Renna replied, voice lacking even a hint of interest in the offer. She looked down, stretched a foot, and felt the reassuring pushback of solid stone underfoot. "...Thankfully that's over. Wait," she paused, cupping an ear, "Do you hear that?"

Abae reached the ground a minute after and listened in turn. A grin overtook her face once she recognized the source. "Now you're getting it, Renna. That sounds like running water to me -- which means this cave probably wasn't a bust after all. We're in luck."

As Donovan and his boy walked back to the inn they laughed and joked, a little because of the ale but mostly because they were enjoying the vacation. They shared moments like these sometimes around a campfire in the forest. When a mann is in the forest he is never truly relaxed, his eyes are watchful, his hearing keen. Those that spend a lifetime there do it second nature but the tenseness is always there.

Tonight there was none of that. Donovan teased about the lass, Killean teased about the flower, they were happy and contented. Many Kypiq ran to and fro dressed like Pirates, mocking sword battles and talking in thick accents. Those were just the adults.

"Pa, why do they celebrate outlaws like Pirates? Don't they slaughter the innocent just for money?"

"Before the Neran arrived, The Duke's Great-Great Grandpap was the guardian of the forest up and down the Mytharbor coast. They were amazing sailors, some say they invented the warship. They controlled all the Gulf and took any shinies they came across for themselves. When the outlanders came they drove the Kypiq back into the deep woods and built what is now Port Royale. My Pa told me about a great battle where a great many Pirates invaded Port Royale. The Duke's Granpa fought them off with the help of the Mytharbor Pirates, the outlanders, and the Kypiq too. Thats when the Barbarosa's once again took control of the Ironwood Gulf, an' thats why they celebrate the anniversary by actin like Pirates."

Discovery Cont'd

When at last they reached the sound's source, Renna and Abae had delved considerably deeper. It was so terribly dark, spare a flickering flame in Renna's hand, the light of which danced ahead on lapping waves of water. A cool breeze blew in, upsetting the torch, carrying with it the unmistakable scent of Mytharbor's eastern ocean.

Squinting ahead, Abae began to notice something bobbing upon the water, carried through the passage on a lazy wind. "Hold the torch out further," She ordered Renna, and with a little more light, spied what looked almost like folded paper boats. Broad at the bottom and with a white sail. The Kypiq squatted down, patiently waiting for it to draw closer... This was her favorite part of the job. Being able to see new things, to bring them to the world, the promise of a real discovery. Sometimes, the things Abae found, whether a plant, a trade route, or a river ended up being well documented already, but there was always a chance of fresh finds.

A Dream almost come true.

Aquinnah finally snapped back to attention and made her way to the alley where her friend, Tiliq would be. When she got there, Tiliq was asleep against the wall. She gave the young Kypiq lass a kick and barked:

“Wake up! I have news!” As Tiliq started out of shock and fright, she quickly bolted up and stared, dark eyed, at Aquinnah. Tiliq was a rough womann, of standard Kypiq size. Her chestnut hair was straight, and tied back in a ponytail. Aquinnah towered over her.

“What is it Quinny?” she yawned. Aquinnah hated that nickname. She scowled at Tiliq.

“I’m going to be sailing with Captain Tidesong!” She said, smiling brilliantly. Tiliq’s jaw opened and she gawked.

“What!? How?! You found him?” Tiliq hurled the questions at Aquinnah. The Neran womann kept smiling and explained her meeting with the To’resk. It had been several months since Aquinnah and Tiliq had arrived in Port Royal. They had heard about Captain Tidesong before, when they had lived in Bordweall. They were both fascinated by his exploits off the coast of Alesia. The Pirate Captain was somewhat of a Folkloric hero, pillaging the riches from greedy nobles and giving back to the poor. He was also known as a slayer of sea monsters, explorer of the unknown, and finder of lost relics and artifacts. Tiliq was jealous that Aquinnah found him. “I want to come too” she said finally.

“Okay, I will bring you to the docks in Port Royal city with me. He’ll have to take you on. The two womann were giddy with excitement. They had been farm girls back in Bordweall. From a small town on the coast. Pirates were hunted scum there, and the two girls had always been told that the only good pirate was a dead pirate. Once they heard the tales from sailors though, they were set. They wanted to join a crew. Not just any crew, but Captain Allerdyce Tidesong’s crew. The ship, Belligerent Bivalve was infamous. They had journeyed north, following rumors and gossip of the ship and her famous pirate captain. Now, they were close to finally setting sail!