Aleris

This post is to provide information on the realm-wide storyline below and will be updated as the plot changes. It is purely to highlight key participants and plot points in the story.

Basic summary

People have been mysteriously dying around Aleris. It started with six - all perishing by the same means. They allowed to themselves to wither away to nothing, stretched thin and emotionless. Then, after just a few weeks, they rose from being bed ridden and headed towards the ocean, letting the waves consume them until they eventually drowned. Concerned about the possibility of the death toll rising under the same circumstances, with the help of a disguised Cyrus Rose, Elias suggested the idea of a team to explore an island inhabited by pirates called Lapis Cove.

Participants

• King Elias, Cyrus Rose (NPC), Brahngier Thaemana, Rahne, Zaur, Reid Feral, Deanna, Mir, Wish, Madrin Kir, Sharay

Rewards

• Each post earns you 50 gold for participating in this storyline. (Posts must be over 300 words to count for gold. You can post less if you want, but no gold will be earned.)

Global effects

• Six people have died by unknown means. These people have all wilted to practically nothing and then were eventually drawn to the sea where they allowed themselves to down.
• Cyrus Rose, now disguised as Captain Lawrence Cross and under command from King Elias, posted signs for an expedition to Lapis Cove.
• The following people so far have joined Captain Lawrence Cross' expedition: Rahne, Zaur, Deanna, Mir, Wish
• The crew aboard the Jade Phoenix were introduced to a wounded, old man named Brahngier Thaemana who told them a tale about his son and their troubles with Lapis Cove.
• Meanwhile, Heruin, Elved and Eiler have fallen to sickness. Many people are dying and some have gone violent.
• In Arthuran, much the same conditions are present, only the orc and goblin tribes who usually dwell in the mountains have tried to attack and kill Chaliceton citizens.

Elra Minrae was an excellent swimmer. During her sixteen years of age, she had lived with her parents less than a mile away from Hinewai Harbor. Despite the tragedies that had plagued Aleris recently - the wars, deconstruction to the city and countless deaths - she had always made way to the ocean to swim amongst the waves. Weather permitting, Elra made every effort she could to dive into and explore the depths of Aleris' waters.

But shortly into the warm spring months, Elra stopped going to the ocean. The footsteps she normally left in the sand before diving into the water were no longer a common occurrence. She had gotten sick. Terribly sick in fact and not a doctor or healer in the city could discern what was wrong with Elra and what had happened to get her into her current state.

She lay in bed for weeks, kept as comfortable as possible by her parents. Eating was no problem and Elra at least had an appetite. However, none of this mattered. The girl had become a husk of herself; her actions were devoid of life and her skin turned gaunt and sunken in. She was as thin as a weed, about 70 pounds by then, the bones of her rib cage nearly poking through thinned flesh. There became a point where even if she could have wanted to or expressed interest in, Elra was no longer able to visit the ocean. The waves would have snapped her in twain.

Or at least, that was what Elra's family and friends imagined.

Instead, something entirely different took course.

One late night, the moon hanging brightly in the sky, Elra left her bed. Her parents had stolen a few winks of sleep, which was a seldom thing as of recently. With light movements, Elra left the house, the door still open behind her, and walked like a pale ghost down to the ocean near Hinewai Harbor. For about fifteen minutes she stood motionless between the shoreline and the waves with her chin and lifeless eyes titled upwards in the direction of the moon. The sand sifted between her toes and the water lapped playfully against her ankles. Then, Elra's head lowered towards the ocean and she walked to the dark body of water before her as if a guiding hand were on her back. The waves crashed against her, but despite this, she kept moving towards the moon and the distant horizon. She was dimly aware that the water began to cover her mouth and then nose. She knew the sand was trying to suck her down, but she kept onward.

Eventually, the water blanketed Elra's head and even though she knew to save herself she had to swim, she did not. With the waves, she was carried her further and further out to sea. Her lungs threatened to burst, she choked on water but no one had seen her descent into the ocean and there was no sign of struggle breaking above the waves. There was just Elra and the ocean that had seemingly called to her then consumed her.

In the morning she had been found lying dead on the shoreline. She had been bruised and thin beyond recognition. It was determined, unfortunately, that she had drowned.


"This is the sixth one, M'Lord," Cyrus Rose said addressing to King Elias the latest news. "The sixth account of a person withering away and then drowning themself in the ocean."

Elias had been in his observatory, an open tower in the castle with different types of telescopes, books and maps laid across tables. There was another table with two cups of untouched tea and beside that, a plate with biscuits and pastries. Cyrus was to join Elias for breakfast but instead Cyrus delivered to him the news of another death matching Elra Minrae's.

For a time Elias said nothing in response. He walked to one of his telescopes. He had some for stargazing and others for looking out across the land. With the chosen telescope in hand, Elias pointed the precise instrument towards the ocean where the six had wandered and just given up their lives. He searched for answers, but none were found on the cerulean colored surface of the ocean.

"This can't go on," Elias said pulling an emerald hued eye away from his telescope. His feet circled and he faced Cyrus then, offering a gentle wave of his hand to sweep across part of the city of Aleris. "I'd like to be able to chalk it up to coincidence, but no, something else is at work here."

"What do you propose we do? Hire a team of investigators?"

"They've already been investigating and have found nothing... at least not on the main lands."

"The main lands?"

"Yes," Elias said and he stepped towards the edge of the observatory leaning against the four foot marble wall. He gestured out towards the ocean. "There is a little known island out there pratically nestled between the four continents of Aleris. It's inhabited by pirates and from what rumors I hear, the occasional merfolk wanders ashore. I'm curious. Perhaps an answer awaits at the island. Something is changing the ocean and it's not from Eiler's shores at least."

"You would have me go there?" Cyrus asked running an almost nervous hand through his hair.

"No, not just you. Gather some mercenaries. They need not know it's a mission from King Elias, but that they will be paid all the same. I suggest a disguise of some sort," Elias said smiling softly to Cyrus. "Well find more information if people do not know that the mercenaries were hired by the King of Aleris."

"What is the name of the island?"

"Lapis Cove."


Two mornings had past and Cyrus had done away with his Grand City soldier's uniform, exchanging it for the travel worn clothes of a sailor. His hair, normally a fine blonde, had been colored black with a dye from the castle's apothecary. He skipped on bathing, wanting to give a better impression of a man who had just returned from sailing.

He had also posted pieces of parchment throughout the city. Not too many, but just enough to draw attention. The sign read:


And after that, all there was to do was wait. Cyrus, or now Lawrence Cross, stayed on his ship The Jade Phoenix and hoped people would be interested in the journey. More over, he hoped that there were answers at Lapis Cove and that they were found soon so he could return back home to Grand City.

Mid-day. The eastern coast of Lapis Cove.
The air is hot and heavy. A gentle breeze from across the ocean carries delicate mist a short distance inland, but it offers little comfort in the wake of such muggy heat.
Many seek comfort indoors, hoping to battle the intense summer sun with alcohol and shade.
There is one amongst the masses who seems to not notice the powerful rays of the mid-day sun, content in standing by the shore and talking openly to the tide.

"Another has taken to the sea. How many does that make now? Five? Perhaps six?"

The voice spoken by the hooded figure is a weak and sickly thing. To assume the person it came from was either close to death or in the grip of it would not have been far-fetched at all.

And yet, even the sick, even the potentially dying were not immune to the wickedness of evil men. Such as it was that 4 drunken shipmen had been wandering the coast. Expelled from one of the many taverns of the cove, they carried the blood and scrapes like badges of honor as they tossed stones out into the lapping waves.

"So I says to 'em, I says, three bits a drink. You're takin' the piss ain't ya? And ya know what he says to me? Bet your bollocks I am..that's why I can sell it for three bits. Ale would cost ya four!"

All 4 men laughed loudly as they moved along the shoreline, finally catching a glimpse of the robed man standing before the sea. They paused when they saw him, half out of curiosity, half out of plot. This was Lapis Cove after all, no one would care about a poor, sick wanderer disappearing with the tide. The largest of the 4 men, the one who's voice had been loud enough to carry nearly 100 yards in all directions was the one to step forward, his 3 associates close behind.

"Ello there! Enjoyin' th'day here on the cove?"

There was no response from the hooded figure, at least not to the quartet of new arrivals. He continued to speak in a hushed whisper to the water, leaning heavily upon a gnarled walking stick that stood a good 2 feet over his head. The loud drunken man stepped further forward, cocking his head as if trying to catch a glimpse of the face beneath the hood. From behind him one of his friends called out.

"Maybe his ears ain't workin' like they used to Roger!"

Again, laughter. The man in front, Roger, he moved within four feet of the hooded man, still trying to see beneath the hood that did its job of concealing any facial features incredibly well.

"Oy, grand-dad. My mates here and I find ourselves in a bit of a bind. See, we were told that Lapis Cove is the place to come when a man wants to find a good time. We found the good time, we just didn't know we'd be spendin' our coin so quick on it. If ya could help us out, maybe we could help ya reach whoever it is ye' talkin' to. See we.."

The hooded man shifted his attention, turning towards the 4 men, Roger specifically, and with his head hanging low he responded with that wheezing, strained voice.

"I am helping you, Roger. All of you. You just do not know it yet, but you will. If it's coin you seek, why not continue to walk the shore? Perhaps you will find a corpse with pockets you can dig in. Stealing from the dead should be no problem for a group of fine, upstanding cowards like yourselves. Now, be on your way before I abandon my civility."

Roger was gobstruck, he had no idea how to respond. In his drunken haze it took a few moments to process what the old man had said to him, and as with all drunk people of poor education the first response was one of self righteous anger. Roger's friends barely had time to ask what the old man had said, the words being as hushed as they were, before their mate was upon the old man. Jerking the stick from his hand in a rage.

"You miserable old tosser! Ya think ya funny? Ya think ya clever?"

"Only when measured against you."

The 3 standing behind Roger heard that. And in the wake of his friends hearing such an insult, what was Roger to do? He did what nature dictated a man such as him should do, he turned the walking stick on the old man. First a swing against his upper back across the shoulders, driving the old man down to his knees. The old man fell in a coughing fit, wheezing as his left hand gripped the wet sand.

"See! This is why ya can't be kind t'people! They think they're better than you. It ain't until ya put 'em on their knees that they start t'show some respect!"

"Like father like son, hmm Roger? I'm sure your mother would be very proud."

There were no words this time from Roger, just eyes full of hate as he raised the stick and began driving it down against the back of the old man. Again, and again, the sound of the impacts echoing in all directions as the wheezing and coughing continued from the hooded figure. Roger swung until his arms were tired and his hands were sore, his chest heaving as he gulped down each breath.

"What's wrong grand-dad? Got nothing funny left to say?"

Roger turned to his friends who all looked surprised, but none had the backbone to speak against what had happened. Instead Roger smirked and raised the stick. Perhaps he could get a few coins for it from someone in the cove, at least enough to buy another round or 2. As he stood, smug and satisfied, one of his 3 mates pointed past Roger. Roger turned, seeing the old man pushing at the ground, trying to stand. It was impressive, to be so ill, to take such a beating, and yet still have the will to try and stand.

"I'll give ya this grand-dad, ya one tough old geezer. I'll tell whoever buys ya stick here that it belonged t'the toughest old bastard in the cove."

Roger moved to raise the stick over his head, and only then did he realize that the sounds coming from the figure below him were not wheezing nor coughing, not anymore. It was laughter. The laughter only fueled his anger.

"Ya think this is FUNNY?! Ya think I like hurtin' ya? Ya won't be laughin' in a second!"

The stick came down in a powerful swing, but this time when it impacted the hooded mans body, there was no give to it. Roger drew the stick back and the old man began to rise to his feet. He swung again, and still the same result, as if striking a block of stone or the base of a tree. Finally the old man was standing again, and Roger gave one more mighty swing for the old mans skull. The stick stopped in mid swing, and with his back to the 3 men they could not see exactly what took place. What they did notice was that there was no sound of collision following the 3rd swing. Instead they watched Roger stumble back once, twice, then turn to them. Blood poured from his throat like flowing water, he tried to speak but only made the bleeding worse. Behind him the old man stood, his left hand wrapped around the shaft of the stick. Only now, the fingers that held it were not withered and frail. They were dense, powerful looking. And the hood that had revealed nothing before now showed only a pair of blue eyes. Eyes with a stare so intense that the men seemed less concerned with their dying friend than what was now looking at them.

The 3 remaining men looked to Roger who reached out to them, and then they turned and ran as fast as their legs could carry them. Roger was bleeding out, and the old man circled around to once more stand before him. Roger clutched his throat, the loss of blood weakening his legs as he dropped to his knees, doing his best to hold his wound together. Unable to speak, and with his face growing more pale by the second, he mouthed 3 words.

...what...are...you...

The old man reached his right hand out, Roger flinched, but the fingertips only touched his cheek they did not cause him more harm. This time when the hooded man spoke, there was no wheeze, no weakness, no hint of frailty or sick. If this new voice could be described in a single word, that word would be absolute.

"I am tragedy. I am sorrow. I am horror. I am the worst parts of you seething from behind your eyes. I am the event which brings the beauty, and the ugliness from all things. Most of all, Roger...

The stick in his left hand was raised up, the pointed end placed right to the mans lips as the fear intensified in his dying eyes.

..I am how your story ends."

With one powerful thrust the point of the stick drove into the mans mouth, through the soft tissue of the throat and out the back the skull. It stabbed into the sand behind the dead man, his warm blood flowing down the gnarled shaft. That is how he left the man, kneeling in the sand, held in position by the staff that kept him upright as it remained pierced through his head. The hooded man then walked to the tide, lowering down to begin washing his bloodied hands. In moments the fingers which had been dense and powerful looking began to wither until once more they were the same weak and sickly limbs as before. Several ripples came across the top of the water as he looked out over it.

"So, six. They will be coming soon to investigate. Make certain by the time they arrive that there is nothing that can be done. Every water source you are able to reach, just as before. This time though, raise the amount you place. We have their attention..now we want their panic. If you run dry, there will be more waiting for you where we discussed. Go now..spread the truth. We will make them face the monsters they try so desperately to hide."

The ripples atop the water disappeared then as the man stood up and began walking. He glanced once at his walking stick and sighed softly before turning forward. A piece of driftwood sat before him, roughly the same size and shape as his previous stick. A wheeze was given as he bent down to pick it up and once more began wandering on.

"Today...shall be...a beautiful day."

Rahne was determined to get the story of her life, or die trying. She would prove to Reid Feral that she was worth more than just the best damn toilet scrubber this side of the City. She was a reporter damn it, a journalist of the highest caliber!

If only her boss felt the same way.

Rahne scoured the City for some worthwhile news, but unless the good people were interested in reading exactly how many citizens dug at their asses when they believed no one looking, or exactly how much a local tavern whore charges per hour, all was quiet...and dreadfully boring.

Rahne was considering causing trouble just to give herself something to write about when she noticed a posted parchment upon the doorway of one of less savory brothels in town. Peering in closer to read the fine script, Rahne's blue eyes narrowed as she read, her mouth moving silently with each word.

Seeking experienced sailors and mercenaries for an expedition to Lapis Cove. Participants
to be paid handsomely upon return to Grand City. Ask for Captain Lawrence Cross at Hinewai Harbor.
Will depart in seven days times from today.

Lapis Cove? Where the hell was that? What the hell was it? Rahne hadn't heard of such a place before. What was so special about this place that suddenly required sailors...and mercenaries? Something dangerous? A clan of cannibals? Treasure? Cannibals guarding treasure? How exciting! Now this was newsworthy!

But seven days? She would have to wait an entire week before faking an impressive resume on her skilled sailing abilities. Rahne, for all intensive purposes, couldn't row a friggin' boat much less understand the workings of a ship and how to sail it. But damn it all if she wasn't going to lie through her perfectly even white teeth to get aboard that ship. Sailing be damned! She'd vie for scullery maid job if that was the case. She'd be the Captain's bitch errand ship boy! Rahne...Bitch Ship Boy Extraordinaire! This would be the story of the century! The greatest masterpiece written for the Aleris Chronice since....EVER!

She raced to the Harbor then stopped short and ducked behind a few stacked barrels. Rahne tucked her long dark tresses under the ratted cap she wore and checked to make sure her urchin wear (aka undercover dress) was just shitty looking enough to be taken seriously for a young man with big dreams to sail upon the.....huh. What was the name of this ship? Oh well...when in doubt....

Rahne scanned the port and the vast array of ships before perfecting her deep man voice, which really sounded more like a pre-pubescent lad with post nasal drip. "I'm looking for Captain Cross! Captain Lawrence Cross!" She called out, scanning the various men with shifty violet eyes. "He's lookin' for crew. For sailors. Well he's got one!" The young woman in drag jabbed a thumb at her chest, ignoring the looks of older, more seasoned men who sniggered at the scrawny lad filled with bravado. "Tell Captain Cross..uh....Brock is here! Brock...uh...Steelcod. Yeah, that's me! Brock Steelcod! Ready to sail!"

Rahne waited anxiously for the Captain to show his face and prayed no one would toss her ass into the cold Harbor waters.

After Zaur acquired a more complete report of Commander Kir's ordeal at the hands of Gethe he went to the chronicle. The shifter was glad that Reed had finally returned, though it may not have seemed like it due to his lack of enthusiasm. The Magus was simply not overly expressive like Rahne. He made sure to welcome the editor back anyway. Then he returned to the small house he rented that was a short walk from his job.

==========

Days passed normally until Zaur found a flyer attached to his door about an expedition to Lapis cove in seven days time. That was the kind of mission the shifter felt a reporter needed to be on. Since he was a trained guardian, logically he was well suited for the job. Six people had died of strange drowning deaths which started a string of investigations. So far no one had discovered the cause of the numerous accidents. The whole situation seemed like foul play to the magus. He was not above other explanations, but that was why investigation was necessary. The pirate island was a place no one had checked yet, if Captain Cross was willing to go there Zaur would be onboard to check for a connection.

He headed to Hinewai Harbor in search of Lawrence Cross' ship. The therianthrope asked around the port to find out what vessel held the person seeking mercenaries and sailors. The shifter was having no luck until he came across a bunch of dock hands. Zaur's words were polite as he addressed them. "Excuse me, could any of you tell me where I can find Captain Cross?"

The workers became silent immediately and stared. Fear scent was coming off them in waves. Eventually one of them spoke. "You're looking for the ship Jade phoenix young man. However, I recommend you abandon that suicide mission. Only pirates inhabit that forsaken place."

Zaur smiled showing strong white teeth then he spoke again calmly. "I already know, but I must be on the expedition, thank you for the warning all the same."

The dock hand that talked to him shook his head slowly and sighed. "You're a polite fool I'll give you that. Your welcome, may the gods watch over you."

The lizard shifter wished them well in return and set off to find Cross' Jade Phoenix. It took some time, but he found the vessel eventually. When he stepped on board he went to the closest sailor on deck and addressed him in a serious tone. "Where do I sign up for the Lapis Cove expedition?"

Rahne's introduction - the way she jabbed at her chest with her thumb and the sound of her voice - was met with curious stares. Those sailors that had turned their attention to her quickly changed their reactions. Instead of serious or helpful answers to Rahne's question, she was faced with roaring laughter and pointing fingers. Some of that chuckling was so intense that a few of the sailors ended doubling over in laughter.

"You! Sailing! Go back home and suck on yer mom's teat, boy!" one of the sailors said through fits of hard gauffing and slapping his knee with a meaty hand.

If Rahne had considered saying anything in return to the possibly drunk and definitely amused sea-faring folk, she would have been cut off. Luckily, Rahne was not far from The Jade Phoenix and Lawrence Cross came out to see what the commotion was. It was not unlikely for such a skinny lad to be poked fun of and his dreams quickly dashed by other seasoned sailors. Still, Lawrence found himself descending from his ship to meet the would be recruit.

Upon stepping up to Brock Steelcod, Lawrence noticed that the hopeful young boy was actually a young girl in disguise. The others at the harbor had not seen this which a good thing in most cases was. It would have given the sailors more reason to toss her into the water just to see a woman in wet clothing. Lawrence gave Brock a grimace after studying "him", but the Captain's face soon changed serious and he reached out to give Brock a hearty handshake.

"Captain Lawrence Cross," he said. "Pleasure to meet you, Brock. You're no doubt here for the Lapis Cove Expedition? Nevermind those ignorant bastards. While you may be smaller in build, at least you have more courage than those who are too fearful to join."

In all honesty, Lawrence had gotten little to no asks about the mission. He was hesitant about bringing a teenage girl on board, but at this stage in the game, he'd be going alone soon. Unfortunately, Lawrence didn't have the option of being picky. With that in mind, he gestured with a wave of his hand to the ship.

"Please let's go on deck and we can discuss the journey."

Not very long after stepping onto The Jade Phoenix's deck, Lawrence could hear the sailors at the harbor go quiet. There was hushed conversation that Lawrence couldn't make out. He contemplated looking out over the ship to see what was amiss when he stopped himself.

Climbing on board was a man much stronger in build than his soon-to-be crew member Brock Steelcod. Lawrence nodded and took a few steps forward to meet the man. Seeing Zaur gave Lawrence a little more hope that this crew wasn't entirely doomed.

"I was wondering who made those blundering fools quiet. Welcome aboard The Jade Phoenix," Lawrence said. "You are no doubt here for the Lapis Cove Expedition? What is your name?"

Reid had every intention of going in Rahne's bedroom and startling her awake. He had narrowed it down to two options: dunk her hand in warm water to see if she wet the bed or shake her awake and yell "Fire!" However, much to his dismay, Rahne wasn't in her bed. The sheets were rumpled giving the impression she had left in a hurry which Reid assumed that meant she couldn't possibly be too far off.

Upon his recent return, Reid expected to see everyone in The Chronicle's office, but not a soul was present. Not Cerrie, Zaur or Rahne. Reid thought he could count on Rahne to be around, to tell him what was going on, but apparently the little lady had more important things to do. Reid snorted, hardly believing she couldn't have much else to do or anywhere else to go considering her track record and being know for the title of "Best Blowjob in a Dark Alleyway".

As Reid stepped out into Grand City's streets, he huffed a sigh thinking he should probably be a bit nicer to the girl as he had two other allies to name - Cerrie and Zaur. Presently, Reid was wondering if Zaur kept a closet full of skull heads when a familiar figure turning the corner caught his attention. Rahne. And she was dressed like a boy...?

This had to be interesting. Instead of calling out to her, Reid kept up stealthily from behind. This wasn't difficult to do considering it was morning in Grand City, which meant the town was busy and full of people going about their daily routines. Reid kept up with Rahne and used the crowd to conceal himself. Eventually after some time, he found himself at Hinewai Harbor, hidden behind some wooden crates to see what Rahne would do next.

Watching her, he began to wonder if Rahne had something to do with his kidnapping. She was being awfully suspicious, dressed in a disguise and all. As far as Reid knew though, Rahne didn't have any sea-faring history. Unless of course she was secretly working with his captors.

All of these thoughts were interrupted when Rahne shouted her alias across the harbor: Brock Steelcod. He just about lost it in a fit of laughter like everyone else on the harbor. Couldn't she have thought of a better name and not one that reminded him of a brand of men's cod pieces? In any case, Reid was going to step out and ask her what in the hell she was doing when a ship captain walked out and escorted her to his
vessel called The Jade Phoenix. Shortly after their departure, Reid spotted Zaur walking across the harbor and climbing onto the same ship. The two disappeared onto the ship's deck and Reid wasn't sure what was going on any longer.

Just before Zaur was out of sight and onto the ship's deck to meet this captain, Reid had caught sight of a piece of parchment in the therianthrope's hands. Reid turned about face and scanned the crowd. It did not take him long to find a similar piece of paper attached to the side of a building.

Reid left the harbor and went to the building to read over the posting. So, there was an expedition to a place called Lapis Cove led by a Captain Lawrence Cross. For a flicker of a second, Reid thought about chasing after Rahne and Zaur and getting them off this would be suicide mission. After some consideration, Reid decided that Rahne would likely be safe with Zaur about, if he was even able to tell it was her in her shoddy boy-like disguise.

If he had to be honest, Reid didn't want to be on another ship anytime soon. But there were other things he could do for his employees of The Chronicle. Captain Cross needed help and Reid being Editor in Chief had to spread the word. After all, the more that joined this mysterious expedition meant a higher chance of survival, or at least that's what he hoped. There was something going on with this expedition and Reid was going to try to find out what it was. The last thing he wanted was two employees lost at sea.

It was time to write again. Aleris had news and people needed to hear it - whether they wanted to or not.

"I remember as a child, listening to my masters talk while they smoked their pipes and drank their whiskey, about the weak and the strong. They would go on for nearly the entire night about the necessity of those who rule and those meant to be ruled. I always rebelled against the idea. But that was only until I learned to truly understand it.

As a child I was blinded by more than just the ineptness of my eyes. I was blinded by youth, blinded by the illusion of freedom. I suppose it is cliche, a child born into slavery craving a world without walls, without cages and fear. As time passes and more of your will is chipped away by the eroding tides of forced routine, you come to the conclusion that there are only two choices in a useless life. Live on the leash of fate, or resist so violently that it chokes the life from you.

I chose the latter.

Fortunately or unfortunately, depending upon ones own perspective, my choice was denied by fate herself. It was not that I had been too afraid, fear is something I have not felt in years. And it was not by lack of conviction. I stood before the teeth, the claws, the wrath of nature in all her fury ready to die. But not even she was willing to allow me that final mercy. At the time I hated her for cheating me. I hated the engineering forces of the universe for cursing me with the Hellish prospect of more life.

It was in those moments of hate, emptiness, and that sense of imprisonment that I found the reason my death was taken from me. All the years of surviving in this mangled, flawed form, all those moments of being nothing but a possession, they had been forced upon me for a reason. To fuel the drive and to strengthen the will, to erase ideas of mercy or forgiveness. The world, the true world, it offers no such softness. Those notions are born of mortal minds and mortal emotions. There is no mercy in nature, no conscious kindness. It falls upon the individual to sustain itself. In the true world, the weak perish and the strong survive. The strong move ever forward, and the weak are cast aside.
Fate has no use for the weak. That is why she would not let me die. Why she WILL not let me die.

It is why she brought me here, to Aleris. This world shows many signs of strength..at least at first glance. Several brutal wars fought in such a young and blossoming land, and yet it strives on. How could it not be seen as a gleaming beacon of strength within the darkness of space?


While it has endured the rage of beasts, the fury of Gods, and the wrath of Devils, these events do not beget strength. Survival alone is not enough. First we survive, that lets nature notice us, then we must thrive, only then will she favor us. The battle of strength versus weakness never ends, and it extends to all corners of the cosmos, from the most distant of stars to inside your very own mind. One must not merely find a way to endure the onslaught, but be capable of excelling within it.

Who gains more respect on the field of battle? The soldier who manages to live then returns home? Or the soldier who manages to live only so that they might take the field again, and again.

Nature is unforgiving, she is constant, and she is forever crafting new ways to bring her world to ruin. Ruin is the only promise she gives. The fact that one day all things shall cease to exist is inescapable, be they living or non-living.

Quite the unbreakable leash she places on us, isn't it? Yet, we act to preserve our own lives tugging at that leash harder and harder, hoping that we shall break free before breaking our necks. But should we ever break that leash, we would defy the fundamental law of nature. That is the paradox. We are children of nature, with a natural instinct to survive, to live, but we are meant to ultimately perish. The single strongest force in us is to ensure our continued life, but we are meant to accept the inevitability of our impending death. Do you see the game she plays? The confusing space she places her children in? Whether you stand tall and fight, or lay down and surrender, you go against nature. Be it the natural order of the world itself, or the natural instincts inside you.

I am here to make things far less confusing. I am a product of nature, just like you. I only differ in the soil where I was planted and the nourishment I received to grow from it. My soil was less fertile than most, and the nourishment was scarce enough to have not existed. However, the strongest plants are not impeded by or forced to grow around an obstruction, they grow through it, despite it. That is what I offer you. The chance to grow despite obstruction. It is why I have been poisoning your fresh water sources for months now. Why the infection has been kept at a minimum until these last days. The proper obstructions needed to be placed for you, and such a plan required individuals to set it in motion. Individuals with a personal stake in this coming conflict who strive to reclaim what was taken from them. All things are set now. From one continent to another the effects will be swift, and the weakest that this world has to offer will be the first to succumb.

The poison, it will bring out the violence in some, the perversity in others. There will be those lost in the blackness of despair, and those paralyzed by fear. All the deepest natures of yourselves that you hide from the world will no longer be hidden. And from this cauldron of raw, unchecked impulse, the strongest of you will rise while the weakest tear themselves apart.

Like nature, I have no use for weakness. Those who survive the poison, then endure the poisoned, they will know my face. Only those fit to inherit this world shall remain to confront me. And if none should survive when all is said and done, then fate has revealed her hand and I have been the one chosen to bring about your ruin.

Do you understand?"

I can hear his voice. It sounds healthier now. There's no more wheezing or coughing. I can even understand every word he said, I just can't make myself speak. I know I should feel something about what he said, I know I should hate him for telling me all this. But all I can think about is Laina, my daughter. Such a sweet, young, untouched girl. Always so polite, so thoughtful, and I had never noticed how quickly she was becoming a woman. Not until now.

She kneels in the middle of the floor, sobbing. I know she shouldn't be, I know I should be telling her to run, I should be trying to find a way out of here for us, or at least for her, but I can't. All I can do is stare at her, feeling the burning beneath my waist and the painful ache in every one of my muscles. I keep trying to steer my thoughts away from....those perfect breasts. That flawless skin. The smell of her. She smells like her mother. Her mother..she hasn't made a sound for hours. I know she is dead, even though I can still hear her body being violated in the next room by those who smell...like I do now. I know I should be thankful for the chain around my neck since it keeps me from acting on my thoughts..but I'm not. I don't care about the flesh that's tearing from my throat, or the nails I lost trying to claw at the links. Laina...I need you. God I need you so badly.

I didn't ask to be here. A captive inside some dock-house in Lapis Cove. I was only looking for someone to help us, someone to help my daughter and save her from whatever was causing her such emotional pain. I should have known something was wrong. The old man seemed so calm, even with all the screaming that was happening outside. He seemed oblivious to it all as he brought out fresh water and food for my wife and I. I just didn't think it was important..and by the time I did, I had already fallen to the floor. Laina, my child. I'm sorry. Daddy is so sorry.

And then I hear the chain being unclasped from my neck. I'm charging at Laina. I force her to the floor and begin biting at her, tearing at her clothes, baring her to my eyes and throbbing shaft, I hear the hooded man leaving through the back door and calling out as my daughter sobs beneath me, offering no resistance as I force myself inside her.

"If all you wish is to survive..than it will be as the beasts you truly are. A beast survives..a man thrives."

I don't even hear the door close behind him.

Events take place about one week after Deanna’s departure from Chaliceton in Fates of Winter.



Hinewai Harbor. The last time Deanna had set eyes upon the port of entry to the Grand City was during a hasty escape conducted by Verial. Scheduled for execution for crimes she technically did not commit, Verial Akilara with his newfound accomplice Sahar, had orchestrated a rather simple but effective scheme to smuggle Deanna out of the City dungeons and abroad a ship that carried them away to the frozen wasteland continent Arthuran. That was months ago, and frankly, as much as she loathed the City in the past, it was indeed a welcomed sight especially since she spent the last week of her life looking at nothing but the endless blue of ocean.

Though everyone on board attempted to make the Lady Amelia’s trip as pleasant as possible, Deanna preferred dry land to set her feet upon. Despite the endless rocking and swaying of the ship, she was surprised she had not spent most of her voyage hugging the ships railing while harking her guts up into the sea. Vast amounts of ginger tea and hard biscuits had kept her stomach relatively calm and for that she was grateful, but not so much as when their ship finally was brought to dockside.

Deanna had been given a three day window to gather the necessary supplies before the ship set sail again according to the Captain, and she felt a twinge of guilt for the deception as she smiled and offered a little wave farewell. Hoisting her leather satchel over her shoulder, Deanna kept her head down, her face mostly obscured by the hood of her cloak as she weaved her way through the busy hustle and bustle of the Harbor.

It was mid afternoon by the time she arrived at the City gates, and she could not help the stunned look in her eye as she surveyed the landscape. Though the City was heavily into its reconstruction phase, considerable damage and devastation had taken its toll upon Eiler’s most populated area, and sadly, Deanna knew she was the main if not one of the main causes....or rather Sharay and her army. There was still a bounty on her head for her capture. No doubt initiated by the Lady Victoire of Bariston.

What is my life worth compared to hundreds of thousands? That woman would tear out my heart with her own hands for her own personal satisfaction and revenge if she knew I was here and out of hiding. I have returned to the very place that demanded my pound of flesh. Verial risked his own head to ensure my safety, to preserve my life....this is how I repay him and his loyalty to me.

Feeling her body start to lag, Deanna felt it prudent she found herself a nearby tavern for food and rest, but even as she longed for a hot meal and a comfortable bed, business had to come first. She made her way to the office where plots of land were purchased by Alerian citizens. She requested the records of one Wish Star that detailed the exact location of her place of residence and having peered at the map, Deanna smirked and shook her head. An island. Figures. The real estate shop owner was helpful enough to inform Deanna that she could head over to the Harbor and for a ‘modest price’ (read total rip off), pay a local fisherman to take her to the island.

With a sigh, she returned to Hinewai Harbor. Wish’s property was located on the southwestern coast of the island, ironically not far from her own land purchases....and Verial’s it would seem. Deanna found that bit of information rather interesting. They were neighbors, it would seem, but neither chose to cultivate the land they purchased for their own personal use.

Once back at the Harbor, Deanna figured she might as well grab a bite to eat at one of the local vendors before inquiring about hiring a sailor to take her to Wish’s island. With food in hand, she began scanning the docks for someone suitable to ferry her when she noticed the flyer upon the ground, covered in wet footprints. Plucking it up, her amber orbs scanned over the wording, and Deanna couldn’t help but raise a brow in silent question. Lapis Cove? Where was this place? Sailors were expected, but mercenaries? Exactly what sort of trouble was brewing on this Lapis Cove that required experienced killers for hire?

After a moment she lifted her head, a frown upon her lips. Noting that two men were staring at her, men who held an identical flyer, Deanna mustered a faint smile and decided polite but inquiring conversation was in order.

“Quite the expedition. Tell me gentlemen, exactly what sort of trouble is brewing at this place that requires such a mission?”

The elder of the two stared at her for a moment, shaking his head. “No idea, lady, and frankly I don’t care. See this?” He tapped at the parchment with a dirty fingernail. “‘Paid handsomely’ is what it says here, and that is all me and my boy are interested in.” The younger man, a boy in his early twenties perhaps, nodded vigorously.

“The prospect of gold is enticing isn’t it? But tell me sir, does it not strike you as odd that there is no true explanation for such a voyage? For gold you will go blindly to this place, not knowing what may lie waiting?”

The man snorted. “Lady, I could give a shit. My son and I are not whimpering pups who shy away from unsavory situations, especially when there’s gold involved. We can handle whatever comes our way. Now I don’t know about this Captain Cross fella, as I know almost every ship owner and sailor that comes to Hinewai, but if he’s paying, we’re going.” The man’s son grinned, revealing rotted teeth as he lowered his hand deliberately to pat his weapons belt, revealing a pistol and sword sheathed in his scabbard.

Deanna’s eyes lowered to inspect his weaponry and sadly, found it lacking, and even more so, doubted this boastful and greedy man and his son would return home to spend the money they coveted so much. “Well then, good luck. I wish you great fortune.” And with that, Deanna wandered off.

Her small but satisfying meal eaten, Deanna continued to stroll the docks, making sure to keep her head down and remain as unobtrusive as possible while listening to any information that might clue her in as to why this little journey was of such importance to this Captain. It was of no great surprise that not a single man..or woman really, had any inkling as to why such an expedition was taking place, and in fact, few had heard of this Lapis Cove, Deanna included. Without even considering her destination, she found herself staring at the Jade Phoenix in all of its glory and paused.

Don’t even think about it. You’re here for one purpose and one only. Seek out Wish on her little island, explain your situation and request of her, and once all has been taken care of, return to Chaliceton and Verial. You have no reason whatsoever to stay in this miserable piss palace City and even less to board that ship for parts unknown, facing gods knew what.

Deanna bit down on her lip and shuffled her booted feet as if prodding them to continue on her way, but she remained rooted to spot, the weight of her weapons heavy against her back as they lie hidden under her cloak. .

This is none of your concern. None whatsoever. Consider the risk of being recognized and imprisoned again. Consider the fact that its not only your life at stake at this stage of the game. You’re really in no condition to be sailing again so soon much less storming some faraway land to face who knows what. Keep in mind the last time you tried to save the world and where it got you.

But Wish wasn’t even aware that she was even here. Sure Deanna had mentioned during the Ball that she would pay a visit to her friend, but the details weren’t given. This would be without doubt, a surprise for the fae in more ways than one. As for Verial? Her heart ached knowing he might truly despise her by now and hoped she never returned to Chaliceton. This little side journey wouldn’t even put a dent in the resentment and loathing he could possibly harbor for her.

Deanna rested a hand casually against the small swell of her womb, concealed quite nicely under her clothing. “What do you think?” She murmured softly. “One last hurrah before I’m waist deep in baby goo?” As if on cue, the ‘demon fetus’ as it was dubbed, moved against the warmth of her hand, but Deanna surmised that was mere coincidence...or indigestion.

What the hell? You only lived once...or twice as it was the case.

Slow steps carried her up the plank to board the Jade Phoenix, her leather satchel slung over her shoulder. A man stood there waiting, but he was not the Captain as far as Deanna could tell. He claimed no air of authority. A brief nod was directed to him, as Deanna figured him to be part of the crew, and she waited for him to give her a once over.

“A warm body is always a good thing to have in your bed when sailing, love. Gets lonely after so many days for a man.” The charming smile faded when Deanna did not respond to the bait, and the man who was a sailor in his own right, stepped in front of Deanna blocking her way. “Captain Cross is looking for experienced sailors or mercenaries to travel to Lapis Cove.” he added with a slight sneer. “Which one are you, darlin’?”

Deanna lifted her head just enough to meet his gaze with her own, her eyes narrowing ever so slightly. “Neither,” She pushed past him and set her bag upon deck, her arms folded across her chest loosely. “Send for your Captain. I have a few questions for him.”