ORIGIN

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THE BEACHCOMBER

THE CAVE STORIES — LEO

Ah, Leo—a fertile room of broad-winged birds skimming the breakers, of orb-light filtering through the candy-blue waters, of a sprawling mountain.

Along the shores lay sandy beaches, some patches as white as snow and others dark with basalt and bitumen; either were soft underfoot, shifting easily but not quite enough for any passersby to sink in and drown. This was to the benefit of the strangely overdressed figure wandering down a section of the coast with strange determination.

It stooped lower (for it was already slouching and hunching as it walked) every few yards, scaled and calloused hands rifling through the surf and flotsam. Sometimes its fingers came away with shards of oxidized, sand-encrusted metal, and others with worn-smooth gemstone. Only the former were pocketed in the folds of its thick, black hood.

The Blacksmith continued with these motions, mask tilting to and fro, clearly searching for something. He wove in and out of the surf, gathering up the very bottom of his cloak when his hooves met foaming-white waters. Each shift back to standing was accompanied by a cursory dusting off of himself, hands brushing away any accumulated sand.

This thread marks the beginning of a series called The Cave Stories!

As described in previous news posts and announcements, this will be a low-stakes group of quests that will potentially unlock new spells, techniques, and/or tactics. Each active Group has had a quest designed around their home cave, but all characters are welcome to join these quests at any time (unless otherwise stated at the bottom of a GM post).

Subsequent quests will be posted up as current ones near their midway points or their ends, so there won't be pressure to dip your toes into every single one at the same time.

Dread circled lazily, three flaps of his massive wings carrying him a little higher. The seabirds churned around him, following along in his wake, some daring to dart about his neck and head. He didn't mind. Their crowd always made him feel like some sort of king. The reality of their crowding him was simpler: they had learned that he'd give them his food scraps.

He indulged them, and liked their noisy company, even if he was (as now) just taking in the warmth of the orb-lights before a nap.

The dragon idly scanned the sea below as he crossed the breadth of the bay, studying the sea stacks and the beach for anything out of place. And at length, he did spot something: a little figure shuffling along the shoreline. As Dread swept past, high overhead and still quite far out, he saw it stop, and kneel.

This--and the thick cloak shrouding it, despite Leo's heat--drew his interest, and he twisted back around. The birds scattered at his sudden shift in direction, but he ignored them, half-folding his wings to drop down a little lower.

He made a second pass, close by this time, but could make neither heads nor tails of what it was that he was seeing. Someone... looking for something? Maybe? In the sand?

Dread shot past a third time, lower now, and circled back, slowing. He skimmed the breakers, then arched back, feet shooting forward to catch talons in the wet sand of the waterline. The front of his body rocked forward, and he landed on his wings, and then--head cocked in curiosity--wing-walked toward the Blacksmith.

"ARE YOU LOOKING FOR SOMETHING?" Dread asked, and despite what sounded like demand in his tone, it was only curiosity. He just wasn't very good at modulating his words.

In fact, he was wondering if it was something he could trade. He had... stuff. Things. And he liked getting new stuff, and things. He hadn't had the opportunity to trade in quite some time, so--maybe he could, now?

Kaimana had also been prowling the beach, stalking along the shoreline and picking out things of interest with an expert eye. She must have been doing so on the other side of the street however, because she had not realized the massive dragon doing lazy circles in the sky, nor the other shamblers on the sand, and it seems they had not noticed her either. Until now.

She shuffled closer, made easily curious by the presence of others, hoping to perhaps overhear a semblance of their conversation. At least one of them would be loud enough to overhear from practically anywhere. She sifted paws through sand and drew in slowly, allowing herself only a half-interest, so that it might not feel so much like deliberate eavesdropping. Except it was, and pretending it wasn't kind of made it creepier, but Kaimana had no ill intent so it was probably fine. Were they smaller creatures, this might have come off as predator stalking prey, but they weren't so it was probably fine!

The other half of her interest was devoted, similarly, to searching, but not for anything in particular. She attempted to channel a magic to her senses, to make things more intriguing, because any scintilla of intrigue would be worth her attention. The treasures found in Leo might be similar to the ones found in Fornax, but what would it entail if there was a difference? It made Kaimana wonder.

SUMMARY

Kaimana is here now! No interaction, although she did successfully cast a Detect Magic to see if any inanimate object on the shore is magical.

They've a few new marks across their body- barely hidden by snow white and dirty grey feathers, barely tinged with a cool grey-blue. One forearm has eerily smooth skin, a healed burn of sorts that they wipe at absentmindedly as they make their way across the beach. Their sardonyx blade across their back has a hastily made and, admittedly, very crude series of twine and vines holding it there, and binding the smaller end of the blade to make a sort of handle.

I know the dragon, there... I've seen him flying around. The spotted cat, though, I don't... maybe they know Catapla? They hum, and tilt their head, and then they openly stare at the hooded figure with slitted eyes. Oh... they walk like... me? Is that all their wings around them?

Renasci makes their way closer, and observes them pocket some things and discard others. "Can I help you do this? Seems neat. More hands would make it faster." Their tone is very openly curious, and then they turn their head to stare at Dread. He's big, and loud.... and it's almost comforting, after so many cycles in the quiet.

"When I speak"
When I think

Mossie darted about excitedly, curiosity seizing her as she approached the beach. In the entirety of her short life, she'd never seen anything like it. She cautiously dipped a paw in the water before yelping and stumbling back. Being alive was so strange. She paused in her exploration as a small cluster of other Gembound caught her eye; a dragon, a spotted cat like her, and two oddly shaped creatures, one of which seemed to be ...looking for something?

She bounded up with absolutely zero caution. "Hello, strangers! Are you looking for something?"

Drifting in the waters of Leo was an easy enough pastime for those who lived in it. The waters were warm, and Cerilaine found herself in a life of relative ease- she'd settled in with Indigo, decorated their shared pocket of air with everything they desired, even if everything had to be waterlogged.

So, when people showed up on the beaches in far, distant forms, Cerilaine was one of the few to easily spot them from the water. She'd been in the middle of drifting on her back and finicking with a crab like an overgrown otter when her eyes caught on the Blacksmith's black silhouette. It drew her attention- while she had seen him around, of course, he seemed to be doing something. Liquid dripped down her face as she lifted it from the water, squinting off towards the Blacksmith to judge just what he was looking at.

Her body twisted as she angled herself to look, bobbing in the waves. Others were making appearances (notably that dragon, Ceri noted, the loud one who lived around here)- though she couldn't distinguish enough from where she floated. Flexing out her claws, the leopard flicked the remnants of crab meat into her mouth as she cleaned out the main body cavity, scraping out enough to hold water. If she couldn't see, then she could use magic, right?

Precariously balancing herself, Cerilaine dipped the shell in the waves before placing the makeshift bowl on her chest, framing it with her hands. It was a lazy, casual forming of magic- not strong enough to really give her anything clear, and the waves were bobbing too much and the reflection was admittedly terrible, but it was something. The figure she was watching coalesced, hunched- other forms gathering, feline and other- a watery visage of driftwood and debris on the beach. Nothing she couldn't really just see from this far away, unfortunately.

She huffed out sharply through her nose. If she can't get a clear image, she might as well see what's up in person. The shell was discarded without a second thought and Cerilaine rolled into the water, dipping in and delivering herself to the beach. It was a less than graceful exit- the humanoid had to pretty much swim up to the surf and shove herself up, thick fur and sash dripping with water where her top half exited it.

Holding her hands together, Cerilaine simply waited, her gaze on whatever the Blacksmith had most recently inspected.

THE BEACHCOMBER

THE CAVE STORIES — LEO

The Blacksmith had paid Dread's curious swooping no mind, for the dragon had seemingly always been in Leo since the Gembound had forged a path back into these quadrants; there was no harm that come from his presence, for as long as he paid him... equal manners. It was only when he landed, voice booming, that the humanoid figure froze a moment. Startled, more than anything, he began to speak, "Yes, I..."

Another visitor caught his attention, and then another, and another. Here they were, without so much as a summons: a familiar face and band rising inelegantly from the surf; a spotted feline well-known for her penchant for the mercantile; a humanoid with a bird's wings and feathers adorning his delicate skin; and an endearing little ball of fur, far smaller than the rest and certainly so new. The Blacksmith smiled at the lattermost, though it wasn't visible beneath his mask.

Scaled, calloused hands grasped at the folds of his cloak and he bowed his upper half. "I... am seeking... the parts of something..." the Blacksmith paused to idly hold up a scrap of metal, contemplating its shifting glimmer in the light as he held it for the Gembound to see. "Something made... by... an old friend."

There was warmth in the way he said it, old friend. Warmth, and a faint... sadness.

He rasped on regardless, lifting his other hand palm-up, fingers flexing. From the calloused pad of his palm came a shimmering blue light. "It is... a part of a polearm... I recall it... having... a blade as long as... my forearm... curving protrustions... to intercept... a carved langet..." As he spoke, the projection took shape in its glimmering reverie. "The tang... may still be intact..." he added as a contemplative afterthought, and on cue: a square protrusion manifested at the end. "Forged... from an alloy... that would not rust... would not... shatter... fused with... a stone."

"It was... beautiful..." The Blacksmith hummed wistfully. Beautiful, indeed. "It... deserves to be put... back together... returned to its former glory. ... if you would all be... so kind. It was... not made in a... single piece; you may find... the blade... the langet... what remains of the tang... separate. Buried in the sand..."

The metal scrap was pocketed, and he pressed his hands together, interlocking fingers in a hopeful sort of imitation of prayer. "I would... invite you to... the Underforge... and teach you, or offer... what I have... already."

—
Kaimana's magic would bring her the faintest inkling something buried beneath the surf about ten feet away from where she was currently standing. It was just almost like the living stones she had sought out before, but not quite. It was certainly not any weaker. One could liken it, perhaps, to the magical presence of her own earrings, or the band worn by a sopping-wet Cerilaine.

Characters may make Attempts to find the various pieces of the blade that the Blacksmith is attempting to find: the blade, the langet (handle), and the tang. Other and (reasonable) Cast Spell attempts are both acceptable for this! Barely successful and higher will net a reward, but failures will still be able to find metal scrap.

Until the majority of characters have made one attempt, please refrain from trying more than once.

Feel free to GM tag for Successes (or, in Kaimana's case, investigation of her Detect Magic attempt's results)!

@Dread @Kaimana @Renasci @Mossie @Cerilaine

Dread listened, head craned and tilted to one side, trying to understand. The strangers he glanced to, took note of, but didn't really address; he just accepted their presence and tried to grasp what the Blacksmith was saying.

To some, it might have seemed simple. But to the dragon, he was trying--desperately--to understand how a pole could have an arm. Wasn't a pole an... an inanimate object? Was the 'arm' of a pole something like a branch on a tree-? "LIKE A BRANCH?" he asked, puzzled, and without context the question probably seemed nothing but bizarre.

After a moment, though, he latched onto a new phrase: 'buried in the sand.' "I WILL HELP YOU LOOK. IF I CAN KEEP SHINY THINGS THAT ARE NOT YOUR THING," he declared. The black dragon tensed to take off, wings coiling. And then--in a rare moment of consideration--he paused. "STAY OUT FROM UNDER ME!" It was warning, not a threat; a moment later he'd sprang into the air, leathery wings beating hard to carry him skyward again.

He curved up and around, back down, and swept low along the beach. He came to near touching distance of the sand just past the group, and arced up--then down, hard--and the momentum and a lash of his tail carried his obsidian spike into the sand with a magicka-infused slam. The brief slash and drag of tail tore a deep line in the sand, the spell behind it shuddering and shattering to try and open a deep gash along the beach, a gash that might--or might not--reveal something the Blacksmith might be looking for.

Dread then curved back, thudding down heavily safely shy of the long, narrow crack, and waddled forward to peer inside.

It wasn't likely to be stable: undoubtedly, soft sand and water would already be filtering back in to close the gap, but maybe for a moment, something would be retrievable...

THE BEACHCOMBER

THE CAVE STORIES — LEO

"A bit like... a branch, yes..." the Blacksmith nodded, and dipped his head again. An agreement was just fine. "Yes... you can keep... what is found..."

When the beach yawned into a gaping fissure, he couldn't restrain the croaking bleat escaping his mouth; even with the warning, it was quite startling to feel sand shift and somehow groan underfoot. A few surprisingly hurried paces took him away from the crack, even though he was already standing about ten feet off.

—
A myriad of ancient, sand- and salt-encrusted goodies dwelled within the rapidly-filling crevice, all perhaps equally as tantalizing to the dragon. A three-pronged blade—exactly the same as the Blacksmith's projection—was being battered by the water swelling inward, bobbing in and out of the sandy foam.

The blade has been uncovered and may be retrieved by Dread (or anyone else!) to give to the Blacksmith.

@Dread

The sadness behind the word friend makes Renasci frown in sympathy- if they had something from whom they'd spent their first cycles with, they would want it back as well. Ear feathers flex and wings twitch in curiosity and attentive concern as the Blacksmith projects the item, and they move a hand to fidget with the blade across their back in consideration.

What... or who... had broken something like that, though, and sent it's shattered pieces around the beach to be buried, and how long ago... the thought makes them feel even more sad, so they go to set about their search.

Or at least would, until Dread begins to speak, barter, and then shatter the beach underfoot- something the small harpy had no idea could happen, and they hop into the air with a startled squawk and a heavy single beat of their wings to bring them away from the opening, and stay near the Blacksmith.

"That was AWESOME!" they yell, hopping up and down as the dragon makes his way back to his destruction. "I can fit in there, but I need someone to pull me out- can you use your tail to do that?" Now, some might find it hilarious that a creature under five feet tall, and bare as a jaybird, is shifting sideways to try and find a way into the fissure without being engulfed by the water and fluid sand flowing back in, but honestly? It just gets better from here. "I can't do anything like that, earth breaker, but if we work together we can use my tiny hands to grab all of the... you cu-called them shinies? Ahll the shinies."

It seems like when they get excited, they have a hard time speaking any sort of nasal A noise- might be the shape of their face and nose under the almost scaling.

"Ah, uh -" they then turn to the Blacksmith, looking sheepish. "What can I call you? I'm Renasci." The name pronounced with a bit more air behind it, so as to avoid making the A sound excruciatingly nasal.

But... back to shuffling towards the ravine as they await an answer... and seeing one in the drop of a tail into the gaping hole, they climb down to retrieve first, the piece they're looking for. Then, if there's time, maybe grab something else for the dragon.

"When I speak"
When I think

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Game Master Bunny

Dread

Kaimana

Renasci

Mossie

Cerilaine

Game Master Bunny

Dread

Game Master Bunny

Renasci