“W-we can worry about that when we get back. Can you start rowing right now? V-vraxinni and I can see what we can do about the boat.”
“Right right right right right.”
Bramble grabbed both oars and began rowing with all his might - which might require some intervention from Tathel because he was just rowing in the direction they were pointed last.
Tathel drops the bucket, grabbing his shoulder. “We need to go the other way.” He points back towards shore.
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Bramble banked hard, mostly in response to his shoulder being grabbed. “Oh. Right.”
Bramble resumed rowing vigorously, facing in mostly the correct direction this time.
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Tathel picks up his bucket and gets back to bailing out the boat, trying to earn them as much time as he can.
OOC:
IC:
Malakai, who himself had no idea at all, simply shrugged. “You likely know more than me, pal. I feel like I hit my head so hard that I’ve forgotten an entire year of my life.”
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“Some guy named Erebos. Although I know who you’re talking about… Maybe they’re looking for both. I know they caused some trouble back in the City of the Mask Makers.”
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Morrus tapped his chin for a moment and then started. The remaining fruit on his arm started to shrivel and his leaves began to turn brown.
“Say that name again.” The air around the crater seemed to grow dark… At least, for Morrus.
Risa looks back and forth between the two of them. “Huh, I guess we’re getting somewhere.”
“…Erebos?” Streke answered, shifting uncomfortably.
OOC:OOF I meant to ping meep tbh
IC: “Now I’m confused who are you?” Tarkur asks
He hadn’t misheard it. The kid from the Gukko had actually properly pronounced the name Erebos.
One hand stole to his face, running down his cheek and leaving gashes in the surface as it went. There appeared to be an audible rattling noise coming from Morrus’ chest.
“You stand in front of that wall and you HOLD THAT LINE, Do you understand?!”
Morrus watched in silence as his father began shaking like a leaf under the violent verbal assault of the drill sergeant. “Yes sir. Yes sir. Hold the line.”
With that, the commander of the region of Jungle’s defensive forces marched back across the border of the city, barking vile language into the ears of everyone there to encourage them to hold the line. Morrus would have approached but one of the other guards dragged him off towards the building at the center of the town. Some mention of how children shouldn’t be on the front line flew past his head as he looked back in terror at the wall.
It exploded.
Rubble zipped forward, clubbing Morrus on the cheek and sending him flying out of the guard’s grip, leaving deep grooves in the metallic skin. He looked up in a daze as a shadowy figure practically flew over the heads of everyone there and an unknown force gripped Morrus by the throat, dragging him towards the city’s edge.
The dark figure stopped, whirling about and listening, although to what it couldn’t be certain as the air was full of the noise of wounded soldiers and crying children. Suddenly Morrus’ throat was released as the dark figure shot towards the treeline, disappearing into the forest.
Morrus reawoke in the Elder’s home, his mother gripping him by the arm and sobbing. A gold-armored individual with a wicked-looking warhammer was talking with him, and noticed his awaking.
“He’s going to be alright.” The figure seemed to be attempting to reassure, but the sentence came out as a command. “Erebos will be cornered before very long.”
“Thank you, Makuta.” The Elder placed a withered hand on the young Okotan’s shoulder. “Continue your search, and may the stars be with your journey.”
The talk continued into muffled noise as Morrus’ vision of that fateful day eased out of his mind. With an effort he pulled his fingers out of the grooves in his cheek, jolting at how precisely he had instinctively replicated them. “This is a dream, a bad dream.” His hand quivered as he stared at it. “You can’t mean Erebos. You must be wrong. You have to be wrong.”
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“I know what I saw. He’s gotta be the one they’re going after.”
Streke peered at Morrus carefully. “Sounds like you’ve had an even worse experience with this guy.”
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Vra’axinni’s bag, still on the boat, might stand out to Tathel. “Look inside my bag. There is a green bottle, open it and pour it over the cracks. It will not fully seal it but it will make it manageable.”
Vinum nods, thinking as well.
“I’ve only heard his name in passing from tales told by my grand father” Tarkur starts as he contemplates over the name, “but seeing your reaction to his name, is it true you have a history with him?” Tarkur asks Morrus @Ghid
The torchlight grows brighter, and the soft noise of metal heels scraping against the glass and stone surface of the cave floor.
Sonata waits for her turn to climb, saying, “Do you hear that?”
The water okotan smiles, “Don’t know. Give them… a few hours at least, perhaps a day at most. Why are you in a hurry?”
Erebos trudges through the snow, in the far distance in front of him was the ridgeline of a mountain chain. The snow made travelling slower than what he wanted and it left tracks when there was no storm. When he had the chance he would use his abilities to teleport when he was in shadows. It sped him up a little, but finding a good enough shadow was rare.
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Tathel nods, throwing the bucket to the other end of the boat and digging through the bag. Various stuff falls into the waterlogged boat before he pulls a green bottle. He fumbles with the lid, finally snapping it open and spilling its contents over the gash.
Ekimu rouses himself from thought. “Come now, we can think as we travel. We should catch up to the others.” He pulls himself up the embankment, offering a hand for Vinum to follow.
Risa glances back at him. “You good there?” she whispers.
Lync does her best to stay quiet, on the balls of her feet and ready to pounce.
Morrus took several seconds to inhale and released the air in a tiny sigh, the green slowly returning to his leaves. “I hope we find our target before you find yours.” He groaned, looking towards them. Was it just them, or had he gotten smaller…?
“So.” He rubbed his hands together and poorly attempted a mood change. “Where should we head off to? The icy ranges of the north, or the… Dirt place?” What adjective describes a bunch of Okotans who defined their entire civilization by its lack of plantlife? Moronic, maybe?
The Lord of the Undying Storm stood with an angry grunt in Blaze’s direction. The rest of the party would have to pull themselves up, it seemed.
“Your hot-head apprentice is going to wind up dead in a ravine before long.” He grumbled down at the mask maker who had appeared next to him. “I waited a solid five minutes for him to take my hand and get up here, and he just stands there.”
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“Hmm… we’re tracking the Lord of the Storm, right? He sounds like he’d like some ice, let’s see if he’s up north.” And for your sake, maybe Erebos isn’t.
“Shhh.” was Kryuna’s response to Sonata’s question, motioning for Hiraeth to follow up into the cavern, offering him her hand. @Axels
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