Open Why Throw Your Life Away?

[Liminal]

Tamyriel:

Charm Wright smiled broadly, a genuine expression of emotion that was probably the most positive expression that she'd given anyone who'd come to ask about the voyage. "Story," she said softly. "This expedition is all about the story -- the story of Darva, the story of Zeltiva, even my own story, such as it is. In many ways, it's the most important thing there is. Kena taught me that." She waved a gnarled hand at the wall opposite the fire, where there was a portrait of Charm's sister, done in deep, velvety oils, half-shrouded in shadow, as the lamp on that side of the room was unlit. "After she returned, I remember walking with her once, up in the foothills of the Zatoskas. I asked her how it felt to be finished with the expedition, and she told me she wasn't finished, that it wouldn't be finished until she'd finished her record of the journey. Without the story, without the memory, there hadn't been a point. It was just noise and motion, with no overriding purpose." Again, the Captain smiled. "If you're that interested in finding the stories, you're welcome and more than welcome on the expedition. Meet me at the docks on the seventy-fifth, and bring with you the gear that you'll need. I'm happy to have you." She stood, retrieving a sheet of paper from atop the mantle. "This is a contract for the voyage," she said. "It entitles you to a share of anything that we might find, and holds my estate not liable should you not return. If you'll sign this, it will be official."

[Ayatah]

It was the first time Ayatah had adventured outside the center of Zeltiva - which in itself seemed ludicrous. But the walls and the buildings had encaged the young woman, and she had found herself almost happily trapped there. The city was not the jungle, however, and the jungle would always win her heart. When she caught word of… adventure, excitement - and where to find it, Ayatah had escaped the city at last. The house was easy enough to find, although the gate would have been easy to walk past had the Myrian-Eypharian not simply been looking for it. Reaching the house after crossing the gate seemed to take longer, if anything.

Still, Ayatah pressed onwards, steered by eagerness of adventure, and excitement...

Perhaps even the chance to kill. Myri, I hope so.

Ayatah had donned her Myrian clothing - simple cotton, but accessorized it with a light jacket to protect herself from the chill and even with shoes (damn, they’re uncomfortable she’d think each time they were slipped onto her feet). Her hair was down and long, and very dark. To the people back home, it was obvious that Ayatah was not pureblooded. But to the people of Zeltiva, she seemed to be only a savage Myrian - and as she left the center of the city, she was met with the same hostile, suspicious looks.

She was ushered inside briskly, and ended up in a room with almost as many books as the library itself. Looking around herself almost in awe, Ayatah was guided to a leather seat and asked a simple question.

”I am Myrian.” She answered equally simply, her accent strong and thick. Her minimalist answer would not be enough, she knew, so Ayatah continued, ”my people are the most brutal, most harsh environment. I survived the jungle. I’ll survive this.”

|| Ayatah's speech || Ayatah's thoughts || Others' speech ||

[Liminal]

Lucas:

The books included a number of nautical titles, but also several that betrayed a wider interest. During his brief glance at the shelf, Lucas would be able to make out the spines of A Vani Grammar, History of the Valterrian, and The Culture and Sights of Syliras. "If we get back from Darva, you can read as many of them as you want," Charm said with a smile. "Though, regardless of the fact that it's taken a lifetime's work to collect them all, the University library owns nearly all these titles." The elderly captain said nothing as Lucas listed his achievements, though she did raise an eyebrow slightly at the sight of Kelwyn's mark. The Twins favored the bold -- though 'favor' was sometimes a generous description of the effects of Hapchance. "My sister was a hero to many -- to her friends, to the city, and even to me." She gave a short, rasping chuckle. "I'm no Kena, so don't get your hopes up too high. But you've got the right kind of spirit for this kind of fool's game." "Very well then, Lucas. Meet me at the docks on the seventy-fifth, and bring with you the gear that you'll need. I'm happy to have you." She stood, retrieving a sheet of paper from atop the mantle. "This is a contract for the voyage," she said. "It entitles you to a share of anything that we might find, and holds my estate not liable should you not return. If you'll sign this, it will be official."

[Cadicus]

45th Winter, 512AV From the way Cadicus strolled into Charm Wright's study, one would have thought he owned the place, and the gnarled old woman was instead the visitor he deigned to allow inside. Accompanied by an intimidated servant, Cadicus struck a strong figure, his deep brunette hair messily tied into a bun atop his head, his cerulean horns curving backwards from his temples like daggers. His lithe physique hinted at lengthy training, and the scimitar hanging at his waist cemented the fact. Cadicus had swag. There was no other way to put it. Cadicus did not take the seat that Charm indicated straight away. Running his fingers along the leather spines of books, he smirked, reading off the titles in dramatic tones: "An Account of the Circumnavigation of Mizahar... The Treval Codex... Just Stay Home. Oooh. Just Stay Home - a warning?" Grinning devilishly, Cadicus strode over to the leather armchair and plopped himself in it, unfolding his long legs, stretching them out before them. He was the picture of ease, with a devastating smile. The older woman introduced herself, and Cadicus bowed his head deeply, and offered a hand to the woman. Whether she took it or not, it could not be quite certain if his actions were sincere or mocking. His grin was ambiguous in meaning, though certainly not in presence. "Cadicus. Ethaefal, quite evidently. Unmoored to anyone save myself." And he stood with intent, and bowed with a flourish. "At your service!" He laughed, a light sound, compared to the biting irony of his every word before. Charm posed the question, the question Red and Thohorn had warned him would come. He hadn't asked them what they had told the woman, he only knew they'd been accepted. He had barely thought on it, relying on his charm and magnetism to get him through this test. "You see, my dear Charm," he began, his tone thoughtful, though one could never be certain if it was all an act or sincere, "I'm a Forsaken of Syna. Not the loveliest title, I know, but there you have it. I've wandered these shores for twenty eight years, now. I've seen deserts and grasslands and castles, and all those that inhabit them: but all I've had with me is a scimitar, a horse, and a dog. That's my home, those are my people." All the truth, but how heartfelt was the sentiment? That was up to Charm to decide. "So a cursed island, where not much awaits but uncertainty in all but death? Why would that scare me? I dropped from the heavens into the water. Syna don't care if I go missing. Syna don't care if I die. I have nothing more to lose and nothing I care to gain. I'd be more than happy to lend you my allegiance, my sword, and my ability with animals ... for the time being. Just hoping we don't all die on the way." Cadicus flashed her a grin, leaning back in the chair, waiting for an answer from the old woman. Perhaps she'd be taken by his charm, and his coppery skin, his emerald gaze. Or perhaps she'd just find his scimitar useful. "Did I mention I have a kitten? She's pretty adorable." That should seal the deal. All women love kittens.

[Liminal]

Hadrian:

Charm nodded politely to the young man. Though she was, in the Zeltivan dichotomy, a sailor, she still had some friends in the University due to Kena's old connections. She knew Stonemiller and Nightshade, and she'd heard a few stories about Hadrian himself, for all that. She laughed a bit at his question, a cracked sound that nonetheless had some of its old silver left. "I hope you'll pardon me, sir, if I turn the question back around to you. Is there anything you could craft that would help me face the unknowable? I'm just an old mariner, not a mage or a scholar. I know little of the possibilities of your art -- certainly not enough to feel comfortable in making a request of you." If Hadrian could offer something that would be helpful to her, Charm would certainly take advantage of his offer, but she needed to know more before she made any decision.

[Liminal]

Thohorn:

Charm shared Thohorn's smile as he laughed about his unpreparedness for the question. Honesty, that was a trait that the Captain valued. However, when he turned the discussion to his friends, her countenance shifted to one of melancholy thoughtfulness. With one hand, she softly gestured to the other side of the room. A portrait of Charm's sister hung there, done in deep, velvety oils, half-shrouded in shadow, as the lamp on that side of the room was unlit. "I would have gone with her, you know." Silence fell thickly, lasting for several seconds. Finally, the old woman heaved a rattling sigh. "Not on the circumnavigation itself -- I was too young to be helpful, and she had a boat full of the best sailors and scholars that Mizahar had to offer. But when she left for good, when she vanished into the night and never returned -- I would have gone with her then. I was twenty-two, and well into my apprenticeship. I would have done anything for Kena. I would have faced down the wrath of Ivak himself if it meant standing by her side. She was my hero, my sister, my best friend." She too was looking away, gazing at something beyond Thohorn, beyond the walls and books, maybe beyond Zeltiva itself. "I wasn't here." Again, the silence wrapped around them. "I was coming back from Sahova, maybe a week out of port. If I had been here, I would have gone with her, have followed her, whatever it cost, wherever she went. But by the time I got home, it was too late. Whatever became of her in the darkness and the salt, I wasn't there with her. No one was." A deep, deep breath. "I've never forgiven myself for that." Finally, she turned back to her guest, as if remembering that he was still there. "Your friends won't face Darva alone. Welcome aboard." The smallest of smiles, her lips barely moving. "Meet me at the docks on the seventy-fifth, and bring with you the gear that you'll need. I'm happy to have you." She stood, retrieving a sheet of paper from atop the mantle. "This is a contract for the voyage," she said. "It entitles you to a share of anything that we might find, and holds my estate not liable should you not return. If you'll sign this, it will be official."

[Hadrian]

He smiled tightly. She had a point. Of course, he couldn't fault her for walking headlong into an unknown; he had done the same. But if she knew anything, she wasn't telling him, not even to arm herself against possible dangers. "I have proficiency in crafting magical navigational devices, and sets of amulets that network a group of people together; these allow for groups to easily find each other and communicate some minimal things, such as danger or discovery. Weapons, armor, underwater breathing apparatuses. If the Sailors' Guild is funding you and is willing to fund my aid, then the sky is the limit -- the only other limit being time. Some things might be possible to create, but the more complicated, the greater the chance I might not be able to provide it before you set sail. "But I pride myself on finding the simplest, most elegant solutions to these creations of magical engineering. You have but to say the word."

[Liminal]

Outcast:

A Pycon! Well, that was unexpected. But one never knew when one of the odd clay people might come in handy. One of the lessons Charm had learned early was not to judge what anyone was capable of simply by appearances. She let the barrage of answers wash over her. Some she understood, some she didn't, but none of them seemed to her to be a distinct red flag. "Darva is southeast of here, perhaps roughly halfway between Zeltiva and Akvatar." Whether the Pycon knew where Akvatar lay was open to question, but she chose to leave it there. "As for why I'm going, it's like I said in that speech. I've found some interesting references to it in my sister's papers, hints and omens that may hold the key to the mysterious island. And I'm an old woman. If I don't come back, it's not as if I haven't lived a full life. I've seen my daughter and my granddaughter grow up, and if I'm to die, I'd like to die having one last adventure." She smiled at the Pycon. "Meet me at the docks on the seventy-fifth, and bring with you the gear that you'll need. I'm happy to have you." She stood, retrieving a sheet of paper from atop the mantle. "This is a contract for the voyage," she said, handing it gently down to him. "It entitles you to a share of anything that we might find, and holds my estate not liable should you not return. If you'll sign this, it will be official."

[Outcast]

42th of Winter 512 A.V.

Without hesitation Outcast signed his name in quick efficient strokes, writing the word Outcast in impeccable writing where indicated on the sheet. As he did so he wondered if his name would still be Outcast on the 75th, thirty three days was a very long time. Which was part of why these contract things didn't make much sense to him. People changed, sometimes they changed so completely as to be almost a totally different person. Would it be fair for a contract to apply to you if you'd changed so as to be unrecognizable in form, attitude, name and manner of thinking? All contracts where invalid because our current selves will slowly be replaced by who we will become and we will become different people. Why hold to a contract someone else signed? "I promise you I'll be there," he told Charm enthusiastically, choosing to give her something more substantial than a signature while not betraying the complex thoughts bouncing around in his head. "And I'm happy to come along, I've never seen a cursed Island before" he added gleefully.

Brimming with excitement he hopped down from the chair and headed for the door. Again his speech picked up speed as his words just flowed from him, the patterns on his clay wings shifted subtly as he spoke becoming just slightly more intricate"I should go get lots of clay and boat stuff before I forget. And I'll have to find somewhere to keep it. Oh and I still need to find an axe. I'll see you on you on the 75th!" Without warning he suddenly stopped in his tracks and looked up at Charm and asked in strange tone of voice caught somewhere between dead serious and playfully curious "You're not going to change in all that time are you? Not at all. You haven't really changed in a while have you? Not the way you look or what happens to you everyday. That's part of why you're doing this isn't it? Well and that stuff about your children." His voice returned to it's fast excited tone that was his normal speech as he proudly announced "Don't worry I'm told I tend to make things interesting where ever I go. With me along for the trip something is bound to happen. I'm sure you'll find your final form on the way!" And with that statement he left without waiting for a reply from Charm, he had things to find afterall.

As he hurried back to the city proper his head swam with thoughts of things he'd need. Rope you always need rope on boats so get lots of rope. A fishing rod naturally, a really big one. No no that would be silly you can't catch a whale with a fishing rod. Are there even any whales between Zeltiva and Akvatar, where ever that was, to catch? Doesn't matter it'll either be whales or sea monsters but there will be something. It wouldn't need to be a big fishing rod but it'd need to be a strong one.

[Liminal]

Ayatah:

The smile on Charm Wright's face was tight, her greeting nod perfunctory. She'd had all kinds of people come in already, which wasn't entirely surprising, but she hadn't been expecting this. "Yes, your people." The words came out thickly, speaking of a deep unhappiness. "Your people killed my sister's best friend." It was obvious that the old woman had something to say after that, but it seemed to catch on her tongue. She tried to collect her thoughts. "It was not you, I know that," she said at length. "I can't hold you responsible, and you're here in Zeltiva after all, which speaks to some other motivation in your life. But tell me, Myrian -- why should I trust you? Not to stay alive, or to survive; your people are noted for that. But to take you on as a member of the crew. Can you tell me?" It was not a rhetorical question. Charm wasn't turning Ayatah away, not by any stretch, but it was clear that old wounds had been brought to the surface, and that the Captain was seeking additional information.