Solo [Palsa Hydrasa] A New Apprentice

[Orinei]

1st day of Winter, 512 “Follow, follow. Follow, follow.” The moments during the TAR golem’s automated thought process had been a very pregnant pause; Orinei had found her eyes wandering back to the statues, the arches, still marveling at the sheer size of everything. It was bigger than she remembered, though she supposed that might have something to do with the faint twinges of apprehension fraying at her nerves. Outwardly, she merely looked very interested in the imposing stone structures around her; her mind (though she’d never admit it) was wandering into fearful daydreams of being rejected as useless by this golem. By the time she had snapped herself back to complete attention, the Follower golem was nearly circling her feet in its frenzy to get her to “follow, follow.” “Ah. Yes.” She spoke mostly to herself, mentally breathing a sigh of relief, extending a hand to wave the golem on (though she immediately felt foolish, realizing it needed no such instruction). Once it detected her footsteps behind it, the little mouse golem began to whir and click, wheeling itself at an unexpectedly fast pace toward a hall that led out of the Vestibule. The things—and that was really the only word she had for them—in the cells and rooms lining the corridors the golem led her through were more often than not making an ungodly racket in their chosen dialect. Here, a dead-eyed, rotting Nuit, skeletal hand rattling against cage bars, hoarsely yelling at her to leave while she had the chance. There, a group of spider-like golems of some sort, making a sinister whirring and clicking. Next, a piercing scream that seemed to come from nowhere and everywhere all at once, reverberating off the stone hallways until the golem raced through a doorway and Orinei followed, at what felt like breakneck speed. To keep up with the golem, Orinei had to break her normal very measured, small-stepped stride. The damn thing’s efficient if nothing else, she thought, attempting to keep it at least a few of its own body lengths in front of her. As they exited the Vestibule, it rounded a corner completely, effectively leaving her behind. “Ah, shyke,” she muttered, having to break into a jog for a few steps. Predictably, the golem was waiting for her when she rounded the corner. It did a little spin (all while continuing to repeat “follow, follow”) and continued as soon as it realized her presence. The déjà vu Orinei felt was beginning to feel crippling. Everywhere she turned, it felt as if her memories were being brought to life: memories that she never thought she’d see with her own eyes (or, she supposed, whoever’s eyes she happened to possess) again. The little golem was leading her through an immeasurably tall arched corridor, and she knew where she was—near the wizards’ quarters. The golem led Orinei past the quarters, and they entered another hallway. The air was a little colder for a moment; it seemed to be an enclosed walkway between the building housing the Vestibule and their eventual destination. Then, as suddenly as it had chilled, the air was warm and perhaps a touch damp. The golem wheeled to a stop. She vaguely realized that it was much, much quieter here than it had been in the rest of the corridors along their journey through the Citadel. The golem had led her to one last set of double doors. These doors, unlike many of their dark wood, iron, or stone brethren in the Citadel, positively sparkled, even in the dim light cast upon them by two beautifully ornamented candelabras attached to the walls beside each door. The doors were covered in tiny green and blue tiles, what looked like beads, and was that….was that gold? Orinei leaned closer to the door for a moment, but was quickly reminded by the golem that she was supposed to be “follow, follow”-ing as it bumped into her foot, and then the door. Obligingly, Orinei grasped one of the large handles—which seemed to be wrought in the shapes of ornate peacocks—and swung the door open.

[Orinei]

In all her pride and composure, Orinei couldn’t help but gasp. The room before her was one she hadn’t had a chance to visit during her last stay in Sahova. It was as if she had stepped into a dream—an incredibly beautiful, sparkling dream. The room was tiled, floor-to-ceiling, in patterns of deep cobalt blue and shimmering gold. Mosaics detailing creatures and scenes from before the Valterrian occupied some walls, and others were simply ornamented with immense tiled designs. Set into the floor was a massive pool, its surface calm and glassy, the water’s color nearly indistinguishable from the blue tiles that surrounded it. Glowing orb-shaped lights surrounded the pool, emitting a soft, welcoming light. Across the pool were several arched doorways, presumably leading to other chambers. “Palsa Hydrasa,” Orinei murmured to herself. The words even feel good in my mouth. The golem was long gone, off to assist another visitor in finding their destination. Orinei felt at peace in this moment, alone in this stunning chamber. It was not often that Orinei Achora found herself struck dumb by the beauty of something, but the Palsa Hydrasa had done it. She took several small, tentative steps toward the pool in front of her, crouching down to stare into its depths. The ornate blue-and-gold tile work did not end at the floor; it continued all the way down into the pool, and the gold tiles glimmered underwater when she tilted her head. Hesitantly, she reached out a hand to touch the surface of the pool, grazing it with her fingertips. It was pleasantly warm to the touch, and the water seemed to soak right into her skin, leaving it suppler than it had been before. She watched the ripples from her touch spread out across the surface of the pool, the only movement in the room. “Impressive, no?” Orinei reeled, nearly falling into the pool in her haste to stand up and look presentable (by Orinei’s definition, composed, with a faint disdainful frown). Before her stood a woman of slight stature, even shorter than Orinei herself. Her stature and perhaps even her features could have been considered unremarkable—if it wasn’t for the fact that her small frame was clothed in robes so brightly patterned with peacock feathers, Orinei had to squint slightly. Her face harbored delicate features: big eyes, painted with swirls of metallic blues and greens echoing the pattern in her robes, a small, sharp nose, and a small mouth with full lips, painted in what seemed to be sheer, shimmering gold. Her hair was sleek and black, braided in a style elaborate enough to befit the proprietress of such a lavish chamber. She was a Nuit, but only another Nuit would be able to recognize it. Amaryllis, Orinei thought, but words hadn’t made their way to her lips yet. Amaryllis smirked. “It renders me speechless on occasion, as well. The prettiest place on this island, to be sure.” She fell silent, and gazed out over the water, the ripple Orinei had created still reverberating over the surface. “So, I take it you’re here to learn embalming. That, or you’re here for something else and my new apprentice is late.” Orinei nodded. “I am here to practice embalming, yes.” She drew herself up to her full height, trying to look as self-assured as possible. She paused. “To be your apprentice, I mean.” It still felt foreign to her, referring to herself as an apprentice; she hadn’t answered to anyone but herself for such a long time. She wondered if she’d ever be used to it. Amaryllis surveyed her, looking her up and down, eyes twinkling very slightly at her notice of Orinei’s haphazard makeup left over from her journey to Sahova. She noticed Orinei’s hesitation in referring to herself as an apprentice, making a mental note that this one might prove a touch difficult. “Well, in that case, a name would help,” she said, beginning to walk with quick strides towards the doorways at the back of the room, briskly gesturing that Orinei should follow. If Nuits blushed, Orinei would have been a very lively shade of rose.

[Orinei]

“I’m Orinei,” she said quickly, following Amaryllis into the left-most of the four archways. The arch opened into a short hallway that ended in a door, not ornamented as lavishly as the entrances, but jeweled nonetheless. Amaryllis, still moving briskly, opened the door, revealing a circular room that seemed to be an office of some sort. The room was ornamented similarly to the bathing chamber itself; the walls were tiled in the same cobalt blue and gold designs. In the center of the room was a large marble-topped, claw-footed table, strewn with parchment papers and large ledger books, with peacock-feather quills and emerald-green inkpots littered across the surface. A set of ornately carved wooden chests-of-drawers lined the fringes of the room, reaching nearly to the ceiling; a rolling ladder was placed near one, presumably for accessing the top drawers. “I figured we’d start with a little tour. This is the Palsa Hydrasa’s record office. You’ll be well-acquainted to it in no time,” said Amaryllis, gesturing roundly at the room. Amaryllis seemed to gesture with her hands quite a bit; though it wasn’t something she often shared, the muscle memory of her High Arumenic seemed to follow her from body to body, influencing her movements even now. “As you can see…we’re in need of a little organization around here.” Because it’s certainly not my strong point, Amaryllis thought, though she kept that particular tidbit to herself. Let Orinei truly believe she was mistress of this place in every single aspect. And I am, she thought. I’m just not much for keeping the books. She turned to Orinei. “Your first responsibility in this place will be getting these records in order. We keep records of every body that enters and leaves this place: when we get shipments of bodies from the mainland, each one needs to be catalogued with a number and a description; each Nuit that transfers bodies here needs to be checked in by their current body and checked out by their new one.” Orinei’s head was already spinning. It wasn’t quite embalming which disappointed her slightly, but this task alone seemed daunting just by the size of those cabinets. She supposed, though, that those cabinets held records from the time the Palsa Hydrasa had been built. Every single Nuit since before the Valterrian… The sheer history overwhelmed her. “We have bodies that need cataloguing, today. That will be your first task,” Amaryllis said, nodding. She gestured at one of the very large ledger books on the messy table. “You’ll bring the most recent of those ledgers down to the Rubellum Chamber, and you’ll number and describe them. Height, weight, complexion, hair and eye color, approximate age and condition. We call it…body count.” She smirked again, laughing at her own joke. It never gets old, she thought, watching for Orinei’s reaction. She received a pair of raised eyebrows. All right then, jokes are not the way to get to this one. Orinei noted that Amaryllis spoke as briskly as she walked, as she bustled around the table, shuffling things into slightly more order than they had been previously. “You’ll start there today, after I’ve finished showing you around. Come along.” With that, Amaryllis turned and began walking back towards the main chamber, without waiting to see if Orinei would follow. With a last look at the beautiful, circular office, Orinei followed dutifully. Looks like I’ll have my hands full here, she mused to herself as Amaryllis walked to the side of the pool, waiting expectantly for Orinei. It seemed like the work would be dull, at least for a while. That was the only part that bothered Orinei. Even so, she was happy at the prospect of having her hands busy again, even if she was disappointed that it was only to practice her penmanship in a ledger book, cataloguing inhabitable bodies. That was almost worthy of an eye-roll, she thought—the thought of the talent she had being wasted (however briefly) on writing descriptions of bodies in a giant book. She wondered if she’d have to use one of those gaudy peacock feather quills; her immediate impression of Amaryllis and the office was that there probably weren’t any more functional writing utensils around. Once Orinei stood beside her, Amaryllis resumed the tour. They stood shoulder to shoulder, and Orinei unconsciously mirrored what Amaryllis was doing; they both gazed out over the surface of the pool, which had become calm once more while they were in the office. The water doesn't move like water, Orinei noticed belatedly. It was slower, perhaps thicker, but almost imperceptibly so. The skin of her fingertips still felt slightly softer than the rest of her hand. “This, as I’m sure you’ve realized, is the pool for Nuit baths,” said Amaryllis. “It helps to keep our skin supple.” Orinei noticed the subtle inclusion Amaryllis offered her—our skin. She also noted, though, that Amaryllis wasn’t giving away any trade secrets just yet. Amaryllis continued. “Your other tasks, after a few days, will be to escort and assist our guests around the Palsa. You’ll get them anything and everything they need, and direct them from place to place.” What am I, a golem? Orinei was annoyed at this. Instead of being an embalmer, she was going to be a glorified Animation. Though she held her tongue for now, she knew she wouldn’t be able to resist asking why Amaryllis didn’t have golems for these menial tasks. Most of the other departments on Sahova seemed to operate as such—and it wasn’t as if Sahova was lacking in golems. Amaryllis turned, and with another of her graceful gestures, pointed back towards the set of archways. “As you know, the first archway is the office. The second archway leads to the surgery, the third to the wrap room, and the fourth goes down to the Rubellum Chamber. Shall we?” She gestured once more, and began walking back toward the archways. This time, though, Orinei did not follow. “Wait,” she said. “Wait, I have a question.” Amaryllis whirled around, her robes floating back down and swishing around her ankles. “Excuse me?” Amaryllis said, eyebrows raised in surprise, lips pursed slightly in what could have been annoyance or possibly amusement.

[Orinei]

Predictably, Orinei was not tactful enough to keep her insolent question to herself. Might as well get it out of the way, she reasoned, before speaking. “I have to know. Everywhere else on this island has golems for these menial tasks. You’ve been here a while, I assume—they won’t assign you a golem to keep your records? To lead Nuits around? It seems a little…I don’t know.” She paused. “It seems a little inefficient.” Amaryllis wasn’t exactly sure how to keep a cool head in response to this. The answer was ever so clear to her; how could she explain it to this girl—this child—that obviously differed in opinion so much to herself? The Palsa Hydrasa was Amaryllis’ most prized passion. This place was so special to her. Golems were not special. Golems did not befit this place. How could she make her understand? She breathed a resigned sort of sigh (an unnecessary sigh, almost entirely for emphasis) before slowly walking back toward where Orinei stood near the pool. “Orinei,” she started, addressing the girl by name for the first time, “there are no golems here because they do not belong here.” She paused for a moment to collect the next set of words, trying not to betray her emotions too easily. “There are no golems here because there are golems everywhere in Sahova. Nuits come to the Palsa Hydrasa to get away from the rest of Sahova: they come here to rest their weary bones. To rebuild themselves. To replace themselves, when necessary. To beautify themselves. Some, even, to feel…well…human, again.” Throughout this little soliloquy, she had stared straight into Orinei’s eyes, hoping to impart some sort of seriousness upon the girl. Her voice was measured and mild, but nonetheless held a slight edge. “Nuits do the work here for other Nuits. Not wizard-made creations working for wizards. I hope you understand.” With that, she began walking briskly once more, towards the archways, expecting Orinei to follow. She had presented a rather romantic view of the Palsa Hydrasa, yes; of course, some Nuits came there simply for another body each time theirs fell into disrepair, in and out. They felt no true connection to the bodies they inhabited, aside from being able to move the limbs and see through the eyes. But some—including Amaryllis herself—did truly treat the Palsa as a temple. A place to relax. And follow Orinei did. She was confused, quizzical. So much of her personality, and the way she did things, was based on efficiency: it was partially just her intrinsic Nuit-ness, acquired over the last 70 or so years. She was simply conserving energy. Amaryllis, though, was a bird of a different color. She seems human, still, was Orinei’s most prevalent thought as she walked behind the tiny, brightly-clad woman, trying to match her pace. They walked through the right-most archway, and were greeted with a steep set of stairs. Amaryllis, expecting it, was walking just as briskly as before, but Orinei walked slower. The end of the staircase opened onto another very large chamber, this one uniformly filled with stone sarcophagi set into the walls like the geometric confines of a beehive. The light in this chamber emanated from the ceiling, which glowed just brightly enough to work by, but not brightly enough to be considered harsh. Aside from the sarcophagi, there were several apparatuses that seemed to be a mix between a push-cart and an autopsy slab, with wheels on the bottom and what seemed to be a foot pedal to raise and lower the slab. “This is where we keep the bodies,” Amaryllis started, with another fluid gesture, taking several slow steps further into the room. “This is where you’ll do the bulk of the cataloguing. The sarcophagi—“ she gestured at the walls, lined with coffins—“are enchanted. Ice Reimancy and Glyphing. Normally, when we get a shipment of bodies, they’ll bring them down here. You’ll put them on the cart—“ she gestured at one of the push-cart-slabs—“write their description, then take them to the next available sarcophagus. Clear?” Since her moment of emotion in the bathing chamber, Amaryllis seemed to have adopted a much more business-like demeanor. Orinei silently nodded. Amaryllis continued her instruction, walking to a nearby set of sarcophagi in the wall. “These ones here—they haven’t been catalogued yet. I’m a bit short on help. They’re in the coffins, and they’ll be preserved, but they need to be added to the ledger. From here, to here.” She gestured at which sarcophagi she was referring to; all in all, about 50 bodies. “You can push the top of the coffins back, write the descriptions. Once you finish that, I’ll start you working in the baths until another shipment comes in. Feel free to grab the ledger from the office. Sooner than later.” With that, Amaryllis gave a curt nod, turned, robes shimmering, and walked back up the stairs, leaving Orinei alone in the Rubellum Chamber, with all the bodies in their stone boxes waiting for Nuit necessity. It was absolutely silent in the chamber—the kind of silence that with time, becomes deafening. She glanced around, taking in the sight of the seemingly endless rows of sarcophagi. Despite Amaryllis’ evident emotion about these jobs and how personal they were—how golems could never be as good as sentient beings—Orinei wasn’t sure she agreed quite yet. There’s something demeaning about this, she thought, rolling her eyes skyward momentarily. I suppose she’s got to weed out the lazy ones somehow. The thought of Amaryllis finding her lazy or useless incensed her. By no means would that happen. She would prove her worth, and do it quickly, though it irked her to no end that Amaryllis hadn’t already realized her potential. Walking as briskly as Amaryllis had, Orinei started up the stairs. Time to get the ledger. Time to get started. OOC : I commend anyone who actually read through this entire thing. To be continued. I know I'm too wordy. Good lord.

[Mirage]

Orinei

Experience

Skill	XP Earned
Interrogation	1
Rhetoric	1

Lores

•	Lore Earned
•	Amaryllis: A Romantic Thinker
•	Known Body Count for Winter 512 AV
•	Layge of the Palsa Hydrasa
•	Palsa Hydrasa: Golems Don't Belong
•	Palsa Hydrasa: How the Sarcophagi Work

It's Not What You Think...

It is a slow day at work so I thought I would just go ahead and read your solo, and I must say it was fantastic! I would ask that you do not play Amaryllis quite so personally from now on (i.e. don't read her thought process and such), but other than that I think you have a great grasp on her as a character. As you can see there were not a ton of points to be had, but you got some useful lores

Now I would like to inform you that the way you described going TO the Palsa Hydrasa was not completely correct. Actually the path should have taken you through the Courtyard, which is the most direct route and the path the Followers normally take. There are twisting corridors which interconnect the buildings, but those are not often the first path used to reach such a specific location. This is most likely due to some bit of info missing from a write up or another and no fault of your own. I will look into it and try and make it a bit easier to follow for future new comers

Past that I loved your description of the Palsa Hydrasa, and I might just be using it in a future write up (or perhaps you would like to write it up yourself?) If you do then feel free to PM me and we can get you set up! Nothing like personalizing your work space .

Great job! If you have any questions please feel free to PM me