[Plot] Convergence of Tides

[Aelflead Kirastes]

Aelflead, thousands of miles away and days ago, matched the young woman's speed with her own speech.

"And that is exactly why bargaining I am not. Offers only I mentioned, my Drars. Dare nothing ask I of you, not even favors seek I. With your people are my aims, no love Pelagia have I. Nor for any faction of fools that would act without thought and bring harm to children."

As the woman noticed the distinct lack of the sound of a clicking hammer, her tail fell slowly to the sand and began dragging itself back and forth through the black granules with an abundance of frustration the redhead couldn't pinpoint the source of. She was annoyed the blond had talked the pilot out of his blind patriotism, but she knew she was more upset about the state of the maddened children and Thadal's hand in it than anything else.

So why then is my skin boiling right now? She thought, fighting for bewilderment through the fury re surging in her mind. Every other bit of her being was focused on keeping a straight face, so much so she'd begun holding her breath lest smoke curl out of her nose again.

Outwardly, she continued making her earnest case to Ulupi, speaking rapidly in Himai again. "Great... Immeasurable suffering Pelagia bring onto kin ours, seek nothing I but to help numb wound. Ask nothing I. Offer I land, trade routes, even peace; fool's head who wrought this pain still on his head rests not for defense of my life, but anger at children threatened."

Aelflead looked up to meet the Drars's glower with one of barely contained quiet fury. "Inaction mine and ignorant action mind both, kept the Emperor's head on his shoulders. Ask I nothing of you. Make I only offers as apology for failure and extension of support in grief." ​

Language...

Aelflead is trying to be as explicit as she possibly can that she has -0 skin in the game for any goals but giving Ulupi what she wants because she's pissed at Pelagia/Thadal too. She's also trying to imply/basically say, to Ulupi that she's one of the would be assassins hired by the Naga to take out the royal family in the first place and simply didn't decide to act.

This would all be in actual Himai, but these sentences are really complex and my brain hurts from trying to translate them for so long, so fuck it. You get english with Himai word order now.

At least until I can make myself finish translating.

 

[Micali Alsara]

Micali simply heaved in breaths as everyone spoke. The journey east to even reach this point, her fight with the three naga, her fall, her injured jog over here; she was exhausted in the best of terms. Her water skin had just enough to sate her weathered form, but the talk of potentially turning back had her at her weakest.

Was that the right decision? She could probably hop on a ship back to Terminus now, follow her original plan and be done with this war she had no stake in. Then, Amanita brought up the idea of Gwen and Micali scouting from a distance.

The wayward assassin had to choose in that moment - would she stay, fight for something bigger than herself, make this her war? Or go home, to someone she could only hope had forgiveness in their heart. To rest, to be done with her own journey. She regretted even coming here.

But maybe she didn’t have to.

With Gwen’s churning river of words, expectant gaze, and final pleading mumbles, Micali took pause. Maybe this could all be for something after all.

The laicar shrugged her arms up with a chuckle, the image of a woman convinced. “I’ll stay.” She then turned to Amanita and Caput. “Just...try not to get us all killed."

[220/2971]

 

[Kaizaell Songe]

Word Count: 298/7059

The orange scaled velen scanned the rooftops for a few moments before hearing a the sound of a body thudding behind him. He turned, shocked to see the young laicar he’d rescued sliding towards the edge and rushed forwards, to try and catch the young man. However, the fellow soldier had gone over the edge already and was falling and as he reached the lip of the roof he saw the massive demvir below catch the wounded man.

Sighing in relief he took one last look around and took a step over the edge, catching himself with his hand on the tiled edges to slow his fall a little before making the rest of the drop down a few moments later. He’d gotten a notice through the sending stones that an almost unilateral retreat had been ordered and nodded subconsciously as they were relayed right into his mind.

Gazing up at the mechanical man before him he wondered at how such a creature could move as quickly as he’d witnessed the quaestor to do. Fathuus, his guard, was as broad and only a head shorter than the other man, and he couldn’t hope to match the speed and ferocity of the demvir before them.

Grinning Vician nodded to the other man, stepping a little closer. He saw the demvir flinch back slightly, as if to shield his package a bit before relaxing again.

This had been a long day for the both of them after all.

“I would like to escort this man back to the medical tent,” the orange scaled man said, stopping at a decent enough distance to not give offense to either party. He guessed that training with nobles and their etiquettes had been worth something after all. “If you would allow me to, sir...?”

Note

He's asking for Laermont's name, though he hasn't quite recognized Kaizaell yet since they only met in the tent that one time.

Once he gets back to the square he'll probably ask prince Caput to be allowed to join him to the square.

 

[Deni Perfide]

Sound. Shrieking, shouting. Gun fire. Those were the first things that Deni noticed as he stirred. Then the crushing pressure inside his head. He groaned. Instinctively, he brought his hand to his head to carress his temples. The pressure increased until he could have sworn his brain was about to explode. He thought that he might be sick.

The pale velen opened his eyes. Slowly. He had to blink a few times to shake off the dust. The webbed hand came down from his head. No blood. Well, that was something. His back ached something terrible though. And his side.

Deni shifted his long black trench coat and winced as he twisted his torso. Dark patches blotted his right side, beneath the rib cage.

“Aquila’s arse,” he grunted. It seemed as though that wicker worm had gotten the best of him. He laughed and then regretted it as he clutched his side. Of course the creature straight out of a tale used to scare children had gotten the best of him. He could practically hear his mother’s voice.

Finish your studies or the wicker worm will take you from your bed while you sleep!

That was a long time ago. More recent memories slithered into the foreground. The argument with Ignis. The awkward exchange before the battle. Laermont. The demvir’s awareness was no longer connected to his. It seemed as though losing consciousness had severed the connection. A new factor to take into account when using his artifact’s abilities.

Deni shuffled across the floor, fingertips pressing into the side of his torso, until he managed to lean against a piece of rubble that had fallen from the lighthouse. His webbed hand grabbed the golden pistol that had landed there. Then he slumped, eliciting another grunt as he sat with his back against the stone.

His ears perked up at the sound of Prince Caput making a speech. He could hear his voice, but it was difficult to make out the words.

“I’ve done my part,” he mumbled between cautious breaths. Apparently, the wicker worm had had enough of him as it was now nowhere to be seen.

Perhaps it was the injuries, maybe it was the lack of sleep from the previous night, but the rogue found himself without the energy to move. He had endured worse in Arctoa when he had found Lachtara. He had limped for half a mile with a woman on his back and broken bones. His body had been pushed to the limit then but somehow, he felt more exhausted slouched against the remains of that lighthouse.

“I think I’ll just lay here a while longer,” he muttered to himself as the Prince’s voice grew ever distant.

[2,683]

Deni doesn’t know exactly what the Prince is doing because he was out of earshot. Any soldiers retreating/people setting up near the lighthouse may catch a glimpse of him and Laermont knew his location before he was knocked unconscious.

 

[Laermont]

Laermont's eyeplates flashed as he swept them over Vician's face and form as if he was silently assessing him and deciding whether or not he could be trusted with the young sniper. After a moment, he seemed to come to a decision. "Quaestor Laermont. I take it your name is Vician. I believe that Kai will be safe in your care, so please feel free to escort him. I have one more task to which I must attend."

After carefully helping Kai get into a position in which Vician could support him, the detective began moving back toward the tower, his eyeplates fixed on the form that lay there against the cold stone. Tapping his head, it was as if he'd realized that the mental connection he'd had with Deni had been broken without him even taking notice.

The massive demvir strode back to where Deni lay on the ruined stones. His eyeplates cast an assessing glance at the collapsed velen and after a moment, bent and scooped him up. He carried the velen easily, despite his strong build and made his way towards Caput and the others. If his bio-metal frame was in any way tired, nothing about how he moved as he carried Deni betrayed it.

 

[swaswj]

[bgcolor=darkgreen]Drars Ulupi first seemed amused at Aelflead's weaseling, seeing it as a transparent attempt to curry favor. However, as the spurii continued speaking, the amusement faded. She gnashed her teeth and looked to the fellow ophidians nearest her. They said nothing, but she saw something that calmed her growing wroth.

Quiet ensued with only the rumblings of the storm overhead, still holding back its deluge, and the crash of waves on the black sands. In that moment, Dante took notice of small details that weren't as obvious with the distinct threat of imminent death gnawing as him. The ophidians, though they were tall and broad, with clear muscle definition, they had an abundance of scars, some of them still appearing recent. Scales were missing in patches. Some of them had ribs visible through skin and scales.

They may have been a different race altogether, but the trained athlete was well aware of the signs of a body pushed past its limits. It wouldn't even have been worth noting except that these men and women were obviously chosen to make a strong impression. Ulupi herself was slim for her towering height, but seemed otherwise in good health.

It made him wonder what toll the war had taken on the ophidians here.

"The fishing here is good," Ulupi declared. "We have no desire for your 'land' or any riches of the surface. We hereby lay claim to these blue waters."

Maswae spoke up, "Princess Grace will be able to put it to paper and it will be so."

Immediately a scowl appeared on Ulupi's face. "Paper?" she repeated, the word unfamiliar to her. "I have just declared it will be so! Or is your envoy's word worthless?"

Bowing his head apologetically. "Paper will let everybody know it is so. Announcement," he explained.

That seemed to appease the serpentess for a moment. "When will the princess arrive?"

Aelflead held up two fingers and answered, "Two days." She cast an annoyed look at Maswae for his interruption. The old velen ignored it as he explained what was going on to Dante.

"We will return. If the princess is not here waiting…" She trailed off, glaring fiercely and leaving them to imagine what might happen. It was already a step up from moments earlier when they said they would wait for the princess just to take her life.

The ophidians began disappearing beneath the waves, taking the statue with them. Ulupi was the last to turn away, slithering through the sands before diving head-first into the waters. The sea churned and frothed with the splashing of so many tails but then the waters calmed, leaving only the regular crashing of the waves.

"I'm not sure if I'd call it a total success… but you got a nibble, girl. Get aboard. We need to meet up with the princess and let her know what you just gave away."

[/bgcolor]​

[482/13302] Final

Note

Contrary to what Maswae says, it's more successful than not. By leaving things so open-ended, it may lead to conflict as they try to narrow down specifics, but in the grand scheme, Aelflead is offering something the empire can afford to spare for the sake of reparations and peace.

It's Aelflead's own thoughts, so we'll leave that be, but as I mentioned in prior notes, Maswae isn't blind. The reason Caput is turning to non-Pelagians like Aelflead at all is because he had limited people he could trust to go against the emperor. Maswae is one of those people.

As a small bit of trivia, even the fact that he uses 'ophids' instead of 'naga' is more respectful than most. They're properly called ophidians, and naga is kind of a slang term. 'Ophidian' speaks to a people, 'naga' is more referring to them as monsters. Outsiders might not get the difference, but most velen should. It's not as blatant as the n-word, but it's like calling Norse people 'barbarians' or Native Americans 'savages.' I've tried to be very intentional with where and when I use the terms.

Also, Ulupi had nothing to do with hiring anyone for assassination. The three different kingdoms/clans employ different methods. The Green Waters (Ulupi's clan) are the ones that possess people as conduits. The Red Waters (in Flumen Petram) have no interest in subterfuge, they attack directly and use wild, undirected storms. The Dark Waters (captured Garus) are the ones that sent out daemon messengers to recruit thieves and assassins with the promise of riches. Though they were working together, they weren't coordinating all that well.

This will be my last post in this thread. Final stuff in Flumen Petram will be a new thread.

 

[Inks]

Red followed Caput’s procession down the street, eying the gathered naga with something between wariness and outright fear. For all of the velen prince’s bravado, Red felt like a goddamn sitting duck under the naga’s hostile glares. The ophidians lined the streets even as they let Caput’s group pass - clustered in the gutters and lurking in the alleyways between buildings. Their weapons were still drawn, some wet and bright with blood. They still looked mighty damn sharp.

Keydis’s arm, slung over her own shoulders to help support the swordswoman’s weight, was all that really kept her from keeping her revolvers drawn as - fuck, hell if she knew, not like one chick with a few bullets could really save off the remnants of the naga army if it decided to converge on them. Still, her guns were...comforting. Made her feel stronger, more competent.

But right now, her priority was Keydis - the dumb, amazing, idiot. Even with blood caking her nose and dripping from her lip, wincing every so often from getting whipped around like a ragdoll, Red was pretty sure she was as much holding Key back as she was keeping her upright.

“Weird timing, maybe, but I’m braver when I’m in a fight,” she muttered under her breath to the brunette. “So...When this shit’s all over, for better or worse, we should talk a bit. ‘Bout how I like you. More than I planned on.” She glanced aside at Keydis’s bloodied face, trying to guage her reaction (or if the woman was too concussed to even realize Red was talking to her). “Ya know, in a way that we should talk about.”

---

Pressed shoulder-to-shoulder with strangers, the hum of the airship loud in his ears, Liaelty felt the first of what was likely to be many panic attacks wash over him. His sodden hair dripped water down his face, and he was currently sitting in a pool of cold salt water. He barely noticed - how often had his clothes and hair had to slowly dry out in the Dry Rock’s cool, damp cavern? Both hands, pressed one-over-the-other to his chest, were trembling slightly, not necessarily from the cold.

Distantly, he knew he could breathe just fine. Nothing was wrong with him. And yet - and yet - his chest insisted he was suffocating, breathless. His heart pounded frantically, the pulse desperate in his throat. He stared down at the airship floor, unseeing - his gaze was still imprinted with that first, dizzying sight of the sky, impossibly-bright, impossibly-blue from the bottom of the ophidians’ whirlpool.

He could hear, faintly, the sound of a conversation. Whatever the others were saying, though, it was lost to him - a nonsensical drone. Lea shook, and clutched at his own chest beneath his cloak.

It was okay, he told himself, for all that it helped (it didn’t). He was free. No more water, no more torture. Wherever they were going, wherever these people were taking him, it had to be better than where he’d been.

Right?​

[506 / 2169]

 

[Aelflead Kirastes]

Aelflead did not stir until the frothing in the water from the Ophidian's swimming faded. When she did move, it was to release a deep breath and gout of black smoke that plumed wide and curled high into the air as it passed her lips.

Then she turned on her heel and boarded the ship, walking past Dante and Maswae with little more than, "I am no girl, captain;" and stopped at the back end of the small ship. The look in her eye as she passed was unclear, as if she herself was struggling to decide on her mental state, though her tail's slow sweeping back and forth read frustration and concern very clearly.