Entanglement

[Yvonne]

OOC: Open to persons named Felicity Rhyolite only.

Dheathain. Tha most intimidating name ta have caressed me ears. A drizzle of death, a pinch of pain and stir gently. Heat tha heathen at a tropical temperature for eighteen hours, rest for six hours and then heat again until meat be overdone.

Adaptation to the humid and oppressive jungle climate would require plenty of time-investment on the grey dwarf's part. A bewildered foreigner in this deceptive, precarious land for a smattering of months, the journey had become more difficult over the time she had spent here. Difficulty here though was a strain she had never encountered in her decades of life. It was a balmy temperature one moment - an ambush predator the next. A sweat rash in an unwanted place and suddenly a plummet down a volcanic abyss.

Only the mild discomforts did she have the time to contemplate, formulate thoughts of protest about. The hot conditions she could condemn, the skittering crickets she could curse. On the other side of the coin the dusky dwarf was too busy with panic - hanging by a thread, fighting for her survival - to grumble and mutter. In those dire moments time was here and now, all and nothing. Focus and decision-making was keeping her alive, little more than those. A peppering of luck.

Yvonne was unquestionably living her life to the fullest, challenging her limits, pioneering relatively uncharted terrain. More precisely, she was re-exploring a time-lost isle, neglected by the pages of history. There was a noticeable lack of maps concerning the area - how does one even begin to make notations for this labyrinthian-tangleweed quagmire? The plants and weeds here slithered about to capture their prey. The earth itself quaked and rumbled from time to time, ever-changing.

The next best idea to aid her in finding her way was a local guide, of course. A dheathain fae, an enchanting species inclined toward one of the five worldly elements, who could make clear the way from Talmhaidh to Donnalaich. She had paid him appropriately for the task, coins exchanging hands, so only the small matter of the trip remained. He had taken the grey dwarf across the water, to the island where the ancient city supposedly lay hidden. He had brought her to the beginning and disappeared, an elusive and capricious individual who took as much payment for as little effort as possible. She would not make the mistake of trust again - half payment in advance and half payment when the task was done from here on out.

Why had a sel darthirii-dwarf come to this place? What purpose could she possibly have here in this untamed, unforgiving land? She was far, far from the hovel of her home and from the subterranean cavern-city of Kachuck. She didn't belong here, had nothing in common with the locals or the locale. Every time she turned around something new and primeval was attempting to slay her. These were perceptive questions to be sure, worthy of an answer.

Yvonne had learned so much from her mentor, Abel, but if there was one concept she would never forget from his wisdom it was this: the most successful traders place themselves in reach of the most profitable opportunities. Great distances matter not to acquire lucrative wares and they will bring those wares from across the world to barter with the highest paying customers.

Dheathain was a lucrative opportunity indeed. Traders which had an attachment to a healthy, continual existence sought their fortunes elsewhere, on safer, well-worn roads. Places where the population counts were higher and the demands were greater, certainly, yet here Yvonne could discuss sources for unique products the mainland had never seen at their markets. Her businesses would be the only providers of exclusive goods.

If she could locate them the entrepreneur could arrange business cooperatives with sentient races, races which most common peoples thought were faery tales. Species such as the drakari, descendants of the legendary dragons, or the dheathain fae which she had already learned would be problematic to deal with. The dusk dwarf had also heard of a race of pygmies who lived much deeper in Dheathain, a people so out of the way even the drakari ignored them. Now they could be the pinnacle of trade opportunity if she could win their approval.

Focus. Ye must focus. This daydreaming will be tha death of ye. Listen. What can ye hear?

The trickling water flow of a quiet, sleepy creek. Buzzing wing beats of giant dragonflies hovering near to the mostly-stagnant water. Mating calls of a rainbow-feathered bird on high in the tree branches. Rustling shrubs and shimmering grasses in the distance, a potential predator skulking through the dense coverage seeking a warm-blooded bite to eat. She could also sense a change on the wind, a clue from far off. Perhaps another of the jungle's well-known monsoons soon to break and catch her out, alone in the wilderness.

With a stretch and a twist of her long black hair Yvonne extracted the sweat from her strands, casting the filthy droplets off in disgust. It was early morning but this heat was already intensifying. Her black skin was sunburned everywhere she was exposed to the light, her silver eyes all she cared to protect. Her bronze goggles helped a little and she was using her fur scarf as a headwrap to keep the sun from blinding her. Fur was warm, thick material though and it was causing sweat-issues of its own.

Walking through the swampy unsettling terrain was beginning to get to her. Yvonne decided to take a moment to gather her composure, setting her crossbow and backpack down to get the weight off her shoulders. Relief tremors rippled through her upper body and she sighed with a simple contentment of the little pleasures.

Close-by she noticed one of the most beautiful, unusual flowers she had ever seen in her apothecary career. It had bloomed huge purple petals that gave away an astonishingly attractive scent. The grey dwarf had to investigate, taking up her sickle to see if she could collect the lovely flora without damaging it. She approached it right up close, settled next to it on her knees and looked to ply her little cutter at its stem.

Careful, careful...

The petals recoiled, flaring open in self-defensive aggression. The flower literally hissed with hatred, its tendrils and vines tearing out and grabbing her. Shocking, to be seized by a plant, Yvonne was stunned at first and scarcely knew how to react. The vines coiled around her like pythons, preparing to suffocate and squeeze the life out of their prey.

Finally finding her voice the dusk dwarf screamed, "No! Get off me! Let me go, get away!"

The colossal fly-trap bared its plant-jaws open even further, hissing low and irritable as its vine-grip gradually pulled her closer. She was going to be consumed.

[Flamebird]

Felicity loved exploring. She enjoyed the outdoors, running through meadows and scaling mountain tops. Whether it be the snow, desert, or prairies; she had this thing for adventure. It called to her. It begged her to step out, to feel and see the wonders of nature and ancient ruins. The mystery of magic, the puzzle of science. The rush of adrenaline, the heart pounding threats of danger and excitement. To truly feel alive.

Yet, she never expected to venture this far out...

Dheathian. It was a place like never before. Technically, it was considered a part of the Althanas secture of the world. However, on the maps it was closer to the enigmatic Kebiras. This was the closest to that shrouded land Felicity ever got... and she swore, if the humidity was even worse there than here!

The one thing Felicity despised more than anything else was the unrelenting moisture that eternally hung in the air. Fallien was hot, yes, but at least it was dry. Here, liquid misery clung onto the oxygen, almost choking the winter borne teen. She had grown up in the crisp air of Eiskalt and the coniferous terrains of Corone; she had never experienced anything like this. Even for someone as energetic and wild as herself, the humidity vacuumed a sense of life out of her. It was only manageable, barely, thanks to the endless curiosities this jungle provided. It was the carrot hung over the girl's nose, calling her deeper into the eccentric rain forest's depths...

Whether it be the plant life, natives, or an odd twist on the laws of physics, Dheathian fascinated her. It hypnotized her, the magical sparkles that danced around a brightly colored flower. The incredible wildlife, from giant lizards to lithe felines she never caught sight of before. She filled three of the four journals she brought with observations and fangirl enduced dribblings, and she did not even make it to her destination yet. - Donnalaich, a fae inhabited city which sat over the ruins of ancients of old. It had a magical affinity which rivaled that of Raiaera's ruins or Eiskalt's wilderness - at least according to legend - which the half-Neanderthal wished to study and explore to the absolute highest.

She could of hired a guide to help her through the jungle wilderness, yet the drakari were elitist and closed to outsiders. The fae, well, Felicity understood that they could be trouble. Thus, Felicity instead opted to buy several maps and go it alone. While a lack of company was a risk to her mentality, the previously unexplored frontier proved to be enough to keep her out of her head.

Oh, how she despised entering her own head.

Today was the fourth day of the third week. It was midday. The sunlight could barely battle to shine through the thick canopy anymore. The ground was tangled with vines and ferns. Many dangers lied in the venomous snakes or strange plantlife at her feet. Felicity had to watch every step. This place proved to be a mental challenge, and she was mentally stimulated by the brain games this island played. She wore thick traveling boots, sweat drenched pants and a shirt. The only reason she did not wear shorts and a tank top were safety reasons, as well as her strong sense of dignity and morality. Her jacket was wrapped around her waistline, the heavy packs on her back challenged even this heavyweight lifter after two weeks straight. The sword at her side was always ready, always, for danger. Her alchemist's kit hung over her rib, handled with extra care, as the uncomfortable redhead looked down at the map. She was close to her destination.

Wiping the sweat off her forehead would only make it worse, with how her arm was coated in a wet lining of salty body water. Thus, she had to let the sweat drip over her green eyes as she squinted to read the map.

"Okay," she panted aloud, her words mumbled in exhaustion, "I literalliterallyonly-ly-ly have 'bout half hour's until left dest'nation-"

"-No! Get off me! Let me go, get away!"

Felicity's face shot up like a small rodent snapped into alert. Her eyes widened as a voice called from the palm branches beyond. Was that another traveler, calling for mercy? Felicity's chronic hero syndrome kicked in immediately. She completely dropped her map as she drew her delyn arming sword. She bolted through the shrubs with no mind to her surroundings. After falling over a tree stump here and twisting an ankle in some vines there, she limped into another part of the forest where... it was odd. A species of person, obviously not native to this weird and wonderful continent, was grasping for air as a carnivorous plant entangled the small, stout female in vines.

Felicity was wondering if this torturous humidity was making her see things.

As several flies comically swarmed around her head, the half delirious teen carefully dropped her bags and stalked towards the plant from behind. She had just twisted her ankle in a rush, she only had one shot at this. As she balanced on her good right leg, she lifted her sword. She hoped that she could cut the plant from its stalk in a single swoop. She could literally bench approximately six hundred pounds! How hard could this be?

Very.

Very hard.

Seconds before her heavy strike, the plant turned its attention to her. Her hand had been bleeding sweat, so as the vines grappled her, the teen dropped her prized weapon. The vines pulled the child up, slowly coiling around her neck. Always the hero, that Felicity Rhyolite. Now, she needed saving too. For one of the select few times in her life, she vulgarly shouted "oh thaynes!" as she slammed her fists against the vines. Raw endurance and strength kept her kicking, her powerful bones were uncracked under the pressure. She could smell her own panic in her doubled sweating as she used her unkempt nails to dig into the plant's vines.

Felicity was becoming frustrated, fast. Furious even. No way. She could not die today. Not by a stupid plant! She shouted unformed words as she kicked the vines with her one good leg. No! No!

Then, a spark of fire caught on the plant's stem. The plant recoiled and shrieked in horror as it immediately dropped the struggling half-breed females. Much quicker than it naturally should of, the plant flash burned into ashy nothingness, just like that.

As her still panicked heart raced violently, Felicity looked up from the ground to see a tiny, brunette creature with pointed ears and a mischievous dazzle in his pink colored eyes. It was a fae.

The puny, lively creature turned to the young woman Felicity had been trying to rescue in the first place, "Please dun die on me. I still need the other half of your pay."

[Yvonne]

Dragged across the jungle grasses, sluggishly but surely, Yvonne kicked and thrashed to free herself from the stubborn plant. The grey dwarf was a denser, heavier feed than it was accustomed to, but her size would be just so when it came time to gobble her down. If the carnivore-herb had eyes they would have been bulging with anticipation. If it had a tongue it would have licked its trigger bristles. In place of such a tongue was a major organ that appeared almost identical to one of its long vines - but thicker, sinewy - and it was retracting back down its stem-throat, drawing its sustenance ever closer.

Yvonne's black leather boots were the entrée. She couldn't kick anymore - the tendrils were too tight. Squeezed inside its maw, decomposing secretions very gradually began to dissolve the leather. Yelling at the grappler obviously wasn't having much effect on it - plants don't speak with the likes of dwarves - however she did achieve the attention of a stranger who looked to be human at a glance. A red-headed lass - younger, taller, stronger, braver than she was - had arrived to save her, brandishing her blade.

Ohh, thank all that glitters golden...

The gigantic fly-trap predicted the warrior's imminent sword swipe, pre-emptively clutching her saviour by the neck and hoisting them aloft.

Ohh, curses on ya seedy sproutlings!

The hungry plant was getting to its main course, Yvonne's sable legs, the harsh secretions the first hint of how painful this was going to be. The sel darthirii-dwarf gritted her teeth, struggling feebly against her constrictions, ignoring the pain as best she could. This really wasn't how she had imagined her own death, but here she was, on the brink.

Fire seethed into existance beneath her, materialized from nothing but air, erupting up the stem of the murder-blossom. A piercing, hair-raising shriek stabbed her ears, impaled her mind as the deadly-vegie writhed in fiery, scorching torment. Yvonne would have pressed her hands to ears, the sound was so shrill and slicing, if her arms weren't strangled by vines. The plant let go - practically spat her out into a mucus mess on the grass - had enough. The magic-fire spread quickly, burning up the predator in a matter of seconds, leaving naught but smoke and ashes. The grey dwarf didn't know who was more horrified, the fly-trap or herself.

A familiar voice chimed in, jingling in her ears, "Please dun die on me. I still need the other half of your pay." It was the dheathian fae guide, returned from gods-know-where to collect his coin.

"I had one condition, ONE..." Yvonne seemed to be yelling a lot today, clearly on edge, incensed and afraid, "...and that condition be nae magic spells. Did ye uphold yer end of our agreement, fae?" Her breaths were deep, swift, rapid as she left the question hanging.

She was hyperventilating. The Alerar-born's phobia of magic had come to the fore, her silver eyes wide with dread over the little creature and his sorcery. "Of course not! Ye could've set me ablaze! What would ye have done then? Magicked up a stormcloud and rainy downpour over me head?! I could've been permanently magically scarred!" In, out, in, out, her breathing was getting carried away. Yvonne's hands frantically untied the coin pouch from her belt, fumbling from fluster, finally loosening it. Once she had it free she threw the purse at the fae, socking him one in the belly. "Keep yer hexes to yerself."

The fae sputtered, speechless.

"Ye and I be done. Thank ye for bringin' me this far. I'll find me own way to Donnalaich now." Hurriedly the grey dwarf shouldered her backpack and quiver, swooping up her crossbow as she turned on a heeled boot. Decisively, she just picked a direction, truthfully not having more than a cursory idea of where the fae city was.

Yvonne looked the disarmed warrior woman square in the eyes as she approached, and walked by her. The pupils of her silver eyes were dilated with a fight or flight response, fear plain as day. The grey dwarf couldn't hide it, not after her royal tantrum that unfolded before the saviour-to-be. She couldn't keep it from her face or features, so instead she tried to wear it proudly, back straight, puffing up her chest as she passed her by. Keeping her gaze steady, her expression still very distraught, she offered the human an apology, "I'm sorry ye got tangled up in all this."

How embarrassing. Yvonne tried to avoid letting her get a word in and kept on walking.

[Flamebird]

That… was interesting.

Apparently, the plant was not the only thing up in flames over the fae. Felicity watched, speechless, as the odd looking dwarf thing spat venom at the fire fae, disgusted over the use of magic. As she passed, oh, as she passed Felicity she looked her square in the eye. Silver eyes were dilated back in rapid panic. Her copper skin was coated with sweat brought on not by the blasted humidity – but by fear.

Yet, in a bold attempt to keep an appearance, she kept her head up. The creature strode right past.

Felicity turned her head over. She watched as the small humanoid stomped into the forest. Shocked, jaded, slightly offended as a magic user, the redhead snorted. She turned her head back to the crime scene, hoping to thank the fire fae for saving her life, yet – the Dheathian native had vanished. Absolutely zero evidence of the trickster species was there. Suddenly, Felicity was alone in the jungle again.

The ferns hid the girl’s frame. Her own panic died down as her heavy breaths slowed. She needed to move on. Yet, as she stood up, a light hiss escaped her. Oh right, her ankle had been sprained.

How splendid.

In a foul enough mood as was, Felicity tried to limp over to her sword. Her body was resilient, sturdy; yet even her incredible skeletal structure was not happy with the state of her physicality. The teen was exhausted, sweating, and probably dehydrated. While Felicity had several canisters of water, it was lukewarm, when ice cold was preferred against Dheathian’s wet heat. As the girl fell to the muddy ground, her tangled hair covering her face, she realized that she was in no position for set backs. It would take time and energy to fix her ankle. She could not run, leap, or even walk straight with her lower leg unnaturally twisted. In the middle of a dense rain forest, Felicity was in a danger zone. Another map was in her bag, although finding her way was not the problem. Surviving Dheathian’s wilderness with a sprained ankle was.

She became more aware of her surroundings again. The edges of the tropical plant life, ferns and palms, shook as smaller wildlife rummaged through it. That familiar scent of water in the air annoyed and tormented the daughter of Eiskalt. Flies flew around her as she eyed the unfamiliar plants at her feet and hands. Hopefully, they were not poisonous. As the calls of jungle parakeets echoed through the trees, Felicity’s eyes darted from plant to plant. She shook, paranoid of predators. Felicity turned to see several rodents and reptiles already scavenging her bags.

“H-hey!” Felicity erupted, throwing her arms. She pulled herself up, making it several feet towards the bag before crashing down again. The thud caused the animals to scurry and scatter. In the borderline unbearable moister, however, Felicity let out a rather pathetic cry.

She needed help.

Luckily, she had recently met some folk.

Her sword still lay across the forest floor. As long as she was unable to move freely, she was in danger. Whether it be from predatory beasts or poisonous plants, Felicity was vulnerable. She disliked being vulnerable. By chance, one of the travelers was still close enough as she, reluctantly, shouted for help. The weakness of a child was heard in the cries, as well as the humiliation of a warrior.

[Yvonne]

I warned him. I did. "I'm terrified of magic," I said, "I've nothing against ya or any other fae. Fae be an extraordinary people," I said. "I'm afraid of what it can do and tha consequences of its misuse. Please do not use it near me," I said. So what does he do? Practically uses it ON me! Am I a wee bit mad over this turn of events? Ya bet yer granites I be. Was I too harsh on the wee fella? Mayhap. I don't know.

Yvonne had stomped her way into the rain forest, thoughtless to the noise each tread taken was making. At least the vibrations would keep the snakes at bay, especially out here where the snakes might have been bigger than she was. The ebony-skinned woman had read many books during her childhood and one of them described reptiles in detail, basilisks among them frightening her the most. Dragons, leviathans, medusae and naga were well respected runners-up, all considerably concerning snake types. Was Dheathain's warm climate and overgrown underbrush the perfect home for any of those lethal creatures?

Best not think about it.

Creating distance between the sorcerer and herself helped to calm her mind however time would need to calm her ego. Yvonne's breathing was back in the realm of control, nice deep breath in, long soothing breath out. The whisper of the air passing her lips was relaxing to hear, the lush scents of the jungle pleasing to smell. Everything looked foreign, every shrub, every blade of grass and that was worrying. Something to use as a landmark, to set the foundation of her way... that would have been really useful, to gather her wits on where she was.

Hmm, if I be a mischievous flock of rascals where would I build my city? The grey dwarf recalled her memory of the city she was familiar, the dwarven mine-shaft metropolis of Kachuck. Home. Even the word itself made one feel safe. Yvonne felt better. It was a highly unlikely place to build a city, excavated deep within a mountain - some of the tunnels were dwarfcraft, others were carved naturally by underground rivers that had eroded away at the rock for millenia. Food was scarce in the winters if her people hadn't stored enough in time, and water... if it wasn't for the freely flowing underground river Kachuck would have never become a city at all.

Was that the secret to finding the fae? Follow the water...

A shout caught up to her on the wind. Chasers of cries for help came to her pointed ears, from whence she had come. Yvonne knew immediately who it was. The voice matched with a shout she remembered from their encounter with the fly-trap. The grey dwarf knew even from here that the fiery red-headed warrior hadn't moved much since she'd left her. Something is wrong. Guilt stabbed her stomach like a vicious dagger strike, twisting in her guts. The warrior had risked their life to protect her from certain death and how had they been repaid? A skimpy apology and a cold shoulder. I have to go back for her.

Yvonne turned on her boot-heel again, hurrying back through the rain forest. She ran as fast as she could go - carrying a bulky backpack and a crossbow weighing her down - which was not fast at all, mind you, with her runty little legs. She remembered where the fly-trap nest was though, and the warrior's humiliated cries straightened her course every time she heard them. She knew that state of being well... and wouldn't have wished it on anyone, not for all the jewels and gemstones of the dwarves.

Pushing the last ferns aside Yvonne uttered, "Don't worry. It be me. I've come back," so that she wouldn't confuse her with an ambushing wildcat. She'd found the poor lass, prone upon the grass. It seemed the human woman had not even retrieved her sword, instead struggling helplessly with her leg. The grey dwarf placed her crossbow near the blade so that she'd have use of her hands, and knelt down next to her to get a better look at the injury. Grimacing, she offered, "I'm sorry I left ye like this. I didn't know it be this bad."

She may have been looking at a dislocation here. Her leg just didn't look quite right, twisted out of shape somewhat. Yvonne wasn't entirely certain of the physiology of humans, but she was fairly confident human legs weren't supposed to look quite like that.

"Listen, I'm very good with my hands. I know, I know, we haven't been acquainted for long, but--" Yvonne went with it. Better to ask forgiveness than permission. She began to massage the red-head's leg above the injury at first, and carefully eased her finger-tips downward toward the ankle. Not too close. She was feeling for any completely broken bones and there didn't seem to be any, but fractures were basically impossible for Yvonne to detect and there could still have been one of those. Closer and away, nearer and away, the pressure would have been building in her ankle as her dark hands soothed her pain.

"Ya know, usually I like ta get ta know someone before I be this nice ta them. Yvonne Mythrilmantle, at yer service. What be your name, lass?" Time was up. Yvonne popped the warrior-woman's dislocated ankle back into place. Ooh, that'll smart.

[Flamebird]

Thank goodness help came back! It was the tiny dwarf… thing.

She swiftly worked at massaging Felicity’s leg. As she worked to feel her ankle for damage, she continued to speak. Her dialect was distinct, like the differing accents of different populations per culture. Her speech patterns were peculiar yet familiar to Felicity, who once upon a time had a terrible lisp. As she introduced herself with her name, she suddenly popped her ankle back into place. Thanks to her tough physiology, it did not hurt as bad as it could. It did still hurt, however. The mud human hissed sharply as vibrations of pain rippled through her body. Her veins slightly bulged for a moment, her heart beat amplifying the flow of her impure, toxic blood.

As the forest birds squawked, as monkeys shouted in the treetops; the teen pulled her legs up, wrapping her arms around her knees. After the initial pain, she felt better. A thankful smile coated her features, “Thank you.” She then offered up her name, “I’m Felicity Rhyolite.”

The sound of squeaking across the forest floor caused her green eyes to widen. The little ragechild turned annoyed, her eye twitching, as she cautioned with her hand, “Just a sec.”

Already using her leg like nothing ever happened, she bounced up and stomped towards her bags. She went from zero to sixty, her entire body tight and tensed in unusual, unhealthy anger. Clouds of dirt swirled at her feet, violent footprints left behind. As the girl shouted, a family of rodents evacuated from Felicity’s bags, disappearing into the sea of ferns beyond.

Felicity pulled the packs over her back again. She turned to the young woman with a smile, “Sorry about that.”

Felicity had been observing this Yvonne’s stature this entire time. She seemed like a midget New Elf, with her acorn skin and arrow tipped ears. Her height and mesomorph frame only seemed too reminiscent of the stories she heard of dwarves. Did dark elves not have superiority complexes? Why would a dark elf get romantic with a dwarf – if that was the case? As of now, it was a mystery. The hybridization of two opposing humanoids herself, Felicity was biased towards the probability of Yvonne being a half-breed. It captivated her.

Felicity wiped the sweat on her pants, walking over to pick up her sword, “I have a map to Donnawai – Donnalaich, if you need hewp.” In her more delirious state, her lisp was back. She shook her head, upset over her own immature speaking habits. “I mean, I’m going ‘ere too.”

She was sticky, worn out, as well as thirsty for fresh, cold water. The canister in her luggage would have done, but she was running out of energy to rummage through her equipment. In vain attempts to pull her energy up again, she pulled her last hyper protein bar out of a front pocket. She eyed Yvonne, “I have more food. Sorry, tawk can’t correct'y. Dumb humidity.” The heat was getting to the young adventurer. She took a bite, subconsciously aware of her off putting behavior. Subconsciously, she hoped it would not drive her away. She was tired, though she still needed to focus on the outside world. The world inside of her was her worst enemy. She was always running from it…

She needed some form of company. To keep her head above her stormy waters.

[Yvonne]

She was a tenacious human, this Felicity Rhyolite. Yvonne had snapped the warrior's ankle back into its appropriate socket, and even for many dwarves that would have been something to howl in pain about. Not this one - she hissed, yes, the sound of repressing the agony through force of will. It was as though she acknowledged the pain and decided to crush it, like a candle aflame extinguished between finger and thumb.

Yvonne couldn't decide whether to be inspired or concerned. On the one hand, wow, that was incredible, and on the other hand, yeesh, that can't be healthy.

"Yer welcome. Teach me ta do that sometime," Yvonne joked, inspiration winning the day.

The grey dwarf was cautioned with a hand gesture, and instinctively she snatched up her crossbow once again, ready to defend herself if necessary. There were far too many meat-eaters in this jungle for her liking. You couldn't rest on your laurels if you had survived one measly murder-blossom - there were always more threats, skulking around every shrub. Yvonne watched Felicity tensely as she rushed toward her backpack, prepared to give her some crossbow cover-fire as soon as the predator revealed itself.

Turned out it was Dheathain rats. False alarm! The crossbow-woman pulled back her weapon, resting it against her shoulder. Rodents. Interesting. Don't they like to congregate around civilization? We might not be so far from Donnalaich after all.

Yvonne caught on to the fact that Felicity was analyzing her, studying her, the focus of her emerald eyes upon her sable skin and elven ears. Not much escaped the deep dwarf's notice. She returned her gandering with a goggle-eyed stare of her own, pulling a face for amusement's sake. "I can see ya might have a question or two about me," she asserted, smirking. "I have a few of my own for ye. I be willing ta trade our questions for answers, if ye be."

The deep dwarf continued, "Yer right though. We should keep moving or we'll not make it ta Donnalaich before our food and water runs out." Yvonne was rather surprised to learn that Felicity had a map of the local area. She had tried to garner some basic directions from some folk back in Talmhaidh, but all she'd received was a piece of paper with some child-level scrawl on it. The red-headed heroine had a genuine map? What were they waiting for? This would be a cinch! Mayhap. No, probably not.

"C'mon, I think I could hear a river or a creek in this direction. We might be able to cool off some or have a drink." Yvonne closed her eyes and wiped the dripping sweat from beneath her head-towel, the sweat-beads bothering her enough to risk the light for a moment. Happy with that, she took off at a steady fast-walking pace, unwilling to run with Felicity's most likely bruising, still-injured ankle.

[Flamebird]

Yvonne started to move. Felicity took a moment of silence to listen. Indeed, the sound of boisterous streams just barely grazed her eardrums. Felicity shoved the high protein bar into her mouth and followed the older woman’s lead. As they cleared a path through the ferns, Felicity felt a throbbing ache in her previously wounded ankle. Through the last several weeks, Felicity had battled hazardous weather, rabies infested animals, and the worst danger of them all, the humidity. Yet now, this miner annoyance of joint pain slowed her down? Banish that sort of thought! It was laughable to think that just a sore ankle could deter her!

Well, she was not stopped by the pain. It did, however, slow her steps. The girl subconsciously started to limp. Her treading was careful, her steps over rocks and tree roots were tedious. With Yvonne still maintaining a slower pace, Felicity kept her complaints to herself. However, Yvonne’s comment about her willingness to answer questions came back to mind. Felicity turned to her major coping mechanism for all pain – blissful distractions.

The teen pushed a tall fern aside. Stepping over a tiny, uprooted tree, she looked towards the dwarf. Her large bag jingled as she awkwardly hobbled along. “Yeah, if you don’t mind me asking, what are you?”

She had to take a moment to rest. If it was any other pain, such as a cut rib or broken arm, she could manage. This was her leg, however. She needed it to walk. The wet, energy sapping air provided no relief as she shoved her sweaty palms into her knees. The luggage she carried only made it worse. She heavily seethed, managing a cautious smile, “I mean, I've seen various human ethnicities, neanderthals, many elves, cat people, fauns, but not you.”

She tried to wave annoying bugs away, “I’m a hybrid, so I'm interested in other humanoids, I guess.”

Felicity pushed herself up, churning pale. She refused to rest until they reached the river. She could not be falling into malnourishment yet! She just ate her superpowered bar! Her distinct body needed boatloads of food to survive. Majorly eating a high protein, wholesome vegetable diet, she needed more than that massive three thousand calorie bar. She forced her concerns aside as she listened to Yvonne speak. They started to tread downhill. As she attempted to maintain balance, the river came into view. The tremendous pressure her stalky body put on her leg caused her to finally shout. She had to grasp branches to stay standing on the steep hill.

Finally, they made it to the river. Felicity fell to her knees, on the muddy jungle floor. Random objects such as her metal blue bird, other map, and journals fell out. She sighed, started to pick all but the map up. The map stayed out.

[Yvonne]

Felicity had fallen to her knees, had taken a moment to rest and to give her ankle the reprieve it was aching for. The red-headed lass had kept the pace and made it to the river - well, more of a babbling little brook than a real river - though she'd limped most of the way. It was obvious to her newfound dwarven companion that she was suffering through it, struggling to walk on it much at all.

While the warrior was busy picking up the pieces from her gear, Yvonne, ever the opportunist, was busy removing Felicity's boot. Bet ya didn't expect that.

Before Felicity could object and protest Yvonne shook her head and waved her down, saying, "I be borrowing it for a moment only. I want ta try an old trick we dwarves like ta use." The black boot-snatcher wandered away out of reach, leaving the bootless one to mutter and continue picking up her other belongings.

Yvonne began to answer her companion's question as she came to some particularly lush and green moss-covered rocks, not so far from the creek's edge. Her reply was honest and straightforward, much like Felicity's phrasing of the question. She could appreciate her friend's blunt - let's get right down to it shall we? - attitude. It seemed like few people had the courage and fortitude to simply say what they meant. There was no beating about the bush with Felicity Rhyolite and hopefully that never changed.

"I'm a mongrel. I be dark elven and dwarven both," she replied matter of factly. Yvonne wasn't facing her larger and stronger friend, but still speaking to her clearly, well within earshot. She was multi-tasking their conversation and carefully sickle-scraping some moss from the rocks, peeling free some good swathes. Talking about who she was and working with plants reminded her of home, that she should send a letter someday soon and check in. "I've not heard that word before... I'm not sure what a 'high-bred' be but it sounds important. Ye wouldn't happen ta be royalty would ya?"

Yvonne placed the moss strips into the sole of the boot, forming a natural padding that Felicity could walk on. Who knew, it might absorb some of the impact of her steps as they made the last leg of their journey today. It was no health potion, that much was certain, but out here you had to make do with the resources available to you, and the skills you had up your sleeve. Most dwarves knew all about gems and rocks, whereas Yvonne knew a thing or two about herbs and plants.

"Try this on for size again. It be cold and squishy on yer foot, ye I hear ya," the deep dwarf smiled as she handed Felicity her moss-laden boot back. "Yer great at ignoring pain so a little unpleasantness ought ta do ya no harm--," she pointed out, continuing, "--and it pains me ta know ya struggling with yer ankle. It'll be like walking on a cloud."

[Flamebird]

It felt weird, not having a boot on. With the boot temporarily removed, her foot was only wrapped in messy, dirtied bandages. As the young woman spoke, she strategically collected moss and filled Felicity’s shoe with it. She spoke of being a half-breed between a dwarf and dark elf. That, combined with her paranoia of magic, confirmed origins from Alerar. Her eyes sparkled, herself intensely engaged with the words she spoke. She had no idea such radically different species were comparable. Previous half bloods she came across, such as her half-elf mentor and herself, had parental species far more closely related.

The trick with the moss and boot dazzled her as well. Even for an alchemist, she never knew to do that! Maybe, it was because she had focused some much on potions and medicines instead of survival. Right now, her mellow moaning ankle echoed for relief. Hopefully, this trick would give it a pillow like padding.

“Hybrid,” Felicity shoved her metal bird into a bag pocket before collecting the map, “Another word for half breed, half blood…”

As Yvonne helped her get the boot back on, Felicity thanked her again. She smiled, using one arm to pull it on right. The other held the map. Felicity, who already trusted her enough at this point, held the map out for her to take. Smudges of dark, cool mud covered the girl now. It felt… refreshing.

“I’m half human, half neanderthal.” The burnt out teen fell onto her side, “And this mud feels nice.”

Indeed, the sound of the lively, peppy trickling of water through the stream was relaxing. With her eyes closed, she heard the babbling waters and felt the tar like, wet dirt. This was serene… yet noises called from within her own mind. Shadows of figures, the color red, briefly replaced the vision she closed herself off from. Veins protruded from her neck as her heartbeat raced again. There was no rest as echoes of words long past invaded her memory. Her dilated eyes flashed open. She pushed herself up again. She left hand prints in the mud, her legs no longer relaxed against the rain forest floor. She was already ready to push herself to her feet. “We need to get some water and purify it.”

She pulled the bag off her back, then reached into the clutter. Muttering unenunciated words as she searched, she eventually pulled it out. It was a small device, yet it worked just as well as Alerar's steam machines. She willed her hand to her canister. It shook briefly. She forced herself to grip it. Her words were unintentionally hasty, slurred, and peppy. “You put the water into a jug, pour it through this thing. Then put it in the canister. Boom! Clean water!”

How obvious had her flashback been? She did not know. She brushed past it, however. She wanted to see Yvonne to the town as soon as possible, she really owed the half dwarf one. Regardless of her eminent collapse, she kept pushing.

[Yvonne]

"Hy-- brid?" Yvonne questioned, raising an eyebrow uncertainly as she sought confirmation. "I think I understand," she said, her understanding dubious at best. "I was only called a mongrel by tha dark elves and that was their way of being polite. Me fellow dwarves were more inclined ta be vulgar and liked to refer ta me as a shit-skin," she declared with a jovial grin and cheerful expression. If those names had affected her she concealed it masterfully.

Felicity's map found its way into the half-dwarf's grabby hands, and she was more than willing to take it, though the confidence required for the exchange was not lost on her. The roll of parchment may have been the one object that would decidedly keep them from a grim end as they were currently disoriented in the jungle. Yvonne untied the string that kept it closed and unfurled the map before herself, holding it open while she scrutinized it intently.

"In a round-a-bout way ye and I are tha same then, that what yer saying?" She didn't look up from the map, somewhat unconvinced by the possibility. She'd come to terms many years ago that there was nobody else like her. She'd never met another dark elven and dwarven mixed breed in all her time living in Kachuck, and no one had given her any indication that the accident she was had happened before or again. That naive hope had sputtered, flickered and died out.

That wasn't what her warrior companion was suggesting though. Obviously Felicity wasn't a shit-skin, although rolling around in the mud as she was... she would have sufficed.

"Yer getting right in tune with nature, ye are," the deep dwarf mumbled, focused more-so on the landmarks she'd come across of the area and attempting to pinpoint their location on the map. If she could achieve that they'd have a bearing and she could decide on a direction to take. "That'll mask tha smell very well, ye know," she teased, grinning mischievously. "We'll benefit by throwing tha predators off our tracks."

The dusk dwarf believed she had the map more or less figured out. This brook was the landmark that they needed to find their way. The map didn't give a clear understanding of the jungle, as foot trails through it would sooner or later become overgrown and reclaimed by nature. They would have to cut a path through it seemed, to climb a hill, and from that hill-top they should be able to see Donnalaich in all of its ruined glory of yesteryear.

"Mayhap I should join ye in that muddy slop," Yvonne suggested, though her lifted chin and - I'm too good for that - expression requested otherwise. I'd rather not muck about, thank ye. This be a favourite corset of mine.

Yvonne was so caught up in studying the map and helping to get their bearings that she failed to notice Felicity's difficult-to-detect episode. It was the injured teen's hand spring from the creek side that collected her attention again, as well as her water purification idea.

"That be a clever thought. Who knows what diseases and other assorted nasties be swimming alongside the creek fish," she wondered, eyeing Felicity's purification device. "How does that gadget clean tha water, exactly?" The pristine, icy mountain water that flowed through Kachuck's caverns wasn't much in need of a purifier, but Ettermire's polluted filth not so far away was something else. The miniature navigator pondered where Felicity might have bought the device, and whether it was Aleraran make.

"Let's purify some water and go. I don't think these watering holes in tha wilderness are ever safe. All tha animals come here ta drink. Tha ones with pointy teeth too," Yvonne advised, carefully hopping from one stepping stone to another, hoping to cross the creek without getting too wet preferably. The half-dwarf didn't know how to swim, not that she would need to as the creek wasn't deep. She didn't know that for certain though and was unwilling to find out.

Adjusting the lenses of her goggles she set off into the tropical rain forest once more, vanishing between the ferns on the other side of the babbling brook.

[Flamebird]

The jokes jabbing at her trip in the mud irked her, just a bit. One of her many weaknesses, a quickness to anger, was always threatening to take over. She gripped the water purification device, eyes narrowed in uncalled for aggression. For as tired as she was, her words were only a low whisper, “I’m just so used to cooler climates…”

She had to shove that eternally smoldering, dark orb in her chest down even further. By the sounds of it, Yvonne was not treated fairly in her youth. It was something the mistreated and abused Felicity could direly relate to. It was an overflowing reason for saving grace. Any hurt feelings were pushed back, shoved into the black voids of her subconscious. A matter-of-fact like persona took over. It was ice chilled and contained. She proceeded to fill their water supply, explaining each and every step of purification and safety protocol.

After they took care of their water supply, they pressed of. Felicity had to muster all her strength to place those heavy packs upon her shaking back again. As the jungle teemed with the excitement of daily animal life, Felicity treaded right through the river. It was while they went up the hill that she was relieved – Yvonne’s moss to boot trick really worked! The padding made walking easier, although slimy and uncomfortable. It was still better than the pain. In this thick rain forest, in survival situations, beggars could not be choosers. Thus, the redhead sucked it up and pressed forward.

As Yvonne led the way, they made it up a hill. The climb was steep and severe. Even someone as tough as Rhyolite had to grab any stones or trees in her path to support herself and her bags. Her alchemy kit rattled as she slowly breathed in and out, heavily. Felicity was pretty sure this was her worst traveling experience ever. The humidity was tainting her at this point, pushing her to the brink. I can handle climbing snowy mountains, navigating deserts, and walking through pine forests, but this- Sheer anger gave her the boost of energy to make it to the top.

What she saw reminded her how worth it the effort was…

It was beautiful. Through the remaining palm trees and shrubs, from the hill, it shone like a diamond. Donnalaich. It was a series of magnificent, white walls and buildings. Built before modern time, they were overgrown with trees and bushes, coated with vines. The mixtures of greens and greys gave it a fresh and exotic feel. She had seen ruins before, in Raiaera, yet this blew everything she saw there out of the water. They were only on top of a slope overlooking the place, yet now… the humidity actually did not feel half bad anymore. Well, it was still pretty horrible…

Felicity’s features were lifted from cranky to excited. While still exhausted, her stomach begging for nourishment in its relentless gurgles, Felicity was overcome with awe and joy. The teen let out a joyous, free spirited laugh.

“C’mon!” Felicity rapidly motioned Yvonne to follow. Having received her second wind, Felicity started to trek downhill.

[Yvonne]

The companions had put the hill beneath them, though not without an arduous climb. Ascending the highland had given them a breathtaking vantage point. No, really, I be more puffed than an inflatable toad... "Just... one moment... catch me breath," the half-dwarf wheezed.

An open view of the jungle below was all fine and good, but Yvonne was relying on the canopy - leaves, ferns and branches above - to keep the atmosphere dim. They had come out into the clear where the sun's light was most intense, scorching and direct. The grey dwarf was forced to lid her eyes almost entirely, barely willing to squint through her eyelashes. She knew it'd be a bad idea to look out and see Donnalaich for herself, as it would render her blind and helpless for hours. It was enough to sense the change in Felicity - awe and excitement, to have the knowledge that her travelling companion had spotted the city for them. As long as one of them knew the way and they stayed together, that mattered most.

It seemed Yvonne would have to trust Felicity to lead her true. Trust - it was a double-edged blade that granted the wielder both the power to overcome and a risk of betrayal. Her mentor Abel had taught her that to achieve great things in your life risks must be taken. Risks and the odds of success must be considered and considered well, but take the risk every time the odds are in your favour. In that way you will succeed more than you will fail and come out ahead.

Yvonne had not forgotten his lessons. She understood that Felicity may not be the person she appeared to be. Their meeting may not have been a coincidence of crossing paths in the jungle. The worst case scenario she could imagine - Felicity was a bandit chieftain or a slaver with a very elaborate plot to lead her into an ambush. 'Help, my ankle hurts' may have been bait to lure and prey upon her goodwill. The truth was the half-dwarf wasn't certain that she herself was worthy of trust either. It was the natural order to think of your own interests before giving charity to others. Survival of the fittest was a real contest where lives were won and lost, that existed to this day.

Either way, Felicity was more than convincing. The lass appeared genuine in every way as far as the half-dwarf could detect. There had been no indication that the half-neanderthal shouldn't be trusted, and what's more they shared a racial bond. They were hybrid-sisters. As Abel would say, the odds were in Yvonne's favour. The metaphorical coin was flipped and she bet on trust. Time would reveal heads or tails.

The grey dwarf hurried down the slope, her little legs unable to keep pace with a relatively uninhibited Felicity. Tha moss must be making short work of that limp. I be way behind.

Thumping hooves snagged Yvonne's attention and she glanced sideward to identify the noise-maker. She was yanked out of her active mind, her thoughts free and flowing, back to the reality of here and now. A frightened deer skipped right by her, so strange for it to get so close to a humanoid. The hooved animal bounded right by Felicity up ahead as well, very skittish but not because of the women. Her dwarven legs kept on running as quickly as they could, her goggled eyes scanning the surrounding hillside for what the deer was fleeing.

It took a moment, difficult to search while in such a hurry to catch up with Felicity. In the canopy overhead, in the tree-tops, it leaped from branch to branch. It was swifter than its prey, the terrified deer, gaining on it and closing the gap. It was stronger and more muscular, each tree-top bound far more impressive than the hopping-away prey. It pounced down to the earth before Yvonne when the trees wouldn't support it any longer, immediately sprinting ferociously toward its mark. The grey dwarf panicked, fearing for her friend.

The black panther was definitely going to make a meal out of one of them, the deer or Felicity, and the deer was getting away. In one fluid motion Yvonne drew a bolt and loaded her crossbow, pulled back the string and dropped to a knee. She aimed for her target, held her breath.

Yvonne trembled. She hesitated.

She switched her target, aiming for the long shot instead. She fired on the deer and hoped to disable it.

Hit or miss, she screamed, "Felicity! Look out!"

[Flamebird]

Felicity usually was the more considerate type. However, in all her excitement and glee, she ran a little too fast for the half dwarf to keep up. Her surroundings were forgotten as her dire need to reach civilization, eat, and shower overtook her. At the edge of her limit, she did not even notice to crackling of brambles and branches. The deer racing for dear life did no process. Yet, a shriek of warning sounded from behind, her shouted name calling her awake. Felicity turned around in shock, met with – “*Oof!*” – a ton load of black furred heaviness.

She fell to the ground. The dead blanket was embedded in its spinal chord with a crossbow bolt. Wide eyed, the teen shoved the heat amplifier off her. She eyed the creature on the ground, sweat falling down her back like a waterfall. She… was shocked and awed. Above the tall ferns, Yvonne raced to her with her crossbow in hand. Her grey eyes were also filled with dread and terror. Veins bulged as she caught up to her, shaking and out of breath.

Still downed, but clearly well, Felicity rubbed her head. She smiled, “’anks, friend…” She panted, “I fink we need to get to civ'ization soon. Fo’ heawf weasons…”




~~~


Donnalaich.

They made it... after long last...

The city’s outskirts was coated in a rough layer of vines and vegetation. The pale, crumbling, albeit towering and magnificent buildings were… indescribable. The remarkable, rubble roads were overgrown in tropical vines. Some trees reached heights even greater than the redwoods of Concordia. It was simultaneously prepossessing and horrifying. It boisterously demanded respect and awe. Yet, it was protective and indisputably beautiful. Already, from the edges of ancient buildings and treehouses, fae of many kinds were lingering about. Hanging out or living daily life, the small creatures clamored in daily conversation. Several drakari of various classes also popped up here and there.

The adventurous girl was perplexed. Her eyes were wide in childlike awe as she circled in all directions. Walking backwards, she gazed upon the endless, exotic world. They had just entered, and Felicity already was captivated. Poor Yvonne probably thought she was a clumsy goof!

Yet, something inside felt… strange?

Her senses tingled unnaturally. Specs and jaded fragments of an unworldly feeling tangled inside. Whenever she came close to the most humongous of trees. Whenever an elder fae passed by. She winced, gaped, and shook over these pieces of peculiar tremors inside. She did not yet know it, but her magical affinity was growing. For the first time, in the relic of archaic prowess, she was sensing any magic around her. The physical and psychological prodding distracted her, yet… the smell of something edible snapped her out of her haze.

“Yvonne.” She literally started to drool, “Food. Now.”

She bolted forth, entering the vicinity of a drakari run butchery. It employed the lowest caste of them all… and was fronted by an arrogant Claw.

[Yvonne]

Yvonne had lined the deer up in her sights, her gut feeling warning her it would take more than one crossbow bolt to bring down a black panther. She'd been afraid to bolt the cat because if it survived the shot she didn't have a next move. It would turn on its attacker and there would be no attempt to flee from its ferocity. Claws and blood would be all.

Or so it seemed, in her erratic mind.

The grey dwarf fired the long shot off with a thwack at the running prey, but everything was moving so much faster than she was, bogged in hesitation. The panther unknowingly bounded in front of her missile and the jagged iron tip punctured its spine. The wildcat's predatory days were over and the deer? It didn't look back even for a second, having no grasp on luck or how it had narrowly escaped not one but two deaths in the span of seconds.

'Narrowly' may have been an overstatement in regards to Yvonne's crude shot. Such was her aim she'd slain another animal altogether. One of these days I need ta invest in marksmanship lessons. These bolts be doing their own thing. Next time circumstances such as these arose it could be between two humanoids and the gravity of bolting the wrong person would be crushing. Just something else ta be worried about.

Felicity had made the attempt at saving Yvonne's life from the carnivorous plant and now the dwarf had returned the favour. In both cases the skill to achieve what they set out to do seemed to be lacking but the intentions were pure. Somehow they had both managed to bumble on through and help each other out.

The red-head discarded the panther carcass like the filthy contents of a chamber pot, tossed away to the dirt below. Her companion had caught the unlucky prowler in her arms but clearly didn't want anything to do with it. Yvonne thought twice about the kill, three times. It seemed like such a waste to merely leave the cat corpse here, a feast for vultures. Were there vultures in Dheathain? She hadn't seen any here yet. Basilisks probably ate them all.

Yvonne spoke through the haze of distracting thoughts, "We ought ta carry it inta tha city. Ye can make some good--", realized Felicity had already pressed on ahead again and kept talking to herself, "-- coin selling tha pelt, teeth, claws and meat. Even tha eyeballs are valuable ta tha right person," she whispered quietly. If she wanted to sell it she was going to have to carry it herself. The City of Fae wasn't that far away... Could she do it?

There was only one way to find out. Walking away from an opportunity to make money wasn't a choice the trading prodigy was capable of choosing. Sometimes if you wanted coin you had to roll up your sleeves and earn it. Sighing she strapped her crossbow firmly to her back, as she'd need her hands free for what she was about to try.

The half-dwarf grabbed the dead panther by the neck with one hand and a hind leg with the other, heaving the beast up with all the grace of a junior-class weight lifter. "Ooh, yer a fat bugger! Ye didn't need ta eat that deer after all, greedy fat cat," she cursed at the lifeless animal. After some considerable initial strain she'd maneuvered her neck and head to be under the belly of the beast, with its body crossways along her shoulders. It was longer than she was so its legs dangled down either side of her, tail drooping also. "Phew, bury me sideways. Not so bad once yer up and aloft, eh kitty? Now then, let's see about making tha last of tha trek ta town."


~~~

Donnalaich was at once terrifying and sublime. To Yvonne the City of Fae was akin to an oasis in the desert, only the water was poison. There was no alternative, no other city for leagues. One must come to the oasis to sustain themselves, to drink lest the heat claim you.

The weary traveller had barely taken a few treads inside the confines of the city, and already she could feel what this place was all about. It washed over her like a looming and then pounding beach wave, the cold of it shocking her alert. Cold? What makes it cold here? What was this place that its residents could tamper with the temperature of the humid, disgusting jungle? Something unknown flowed across her skin, beautiful. It chilled her to the bone, horrifying. It prickled an itch within her very being, and yet - like air - it was nowhere to be seen but unmistakably here. Like a soothing wind it cooled her sweat-drenched body. Like fear it gave her goosebumps.

Magic. It's all around me. In everything.

Dread reared its ugly head once again for even thinking of that unspeakable term. Yvonne's eyes widened and her pupils dilated, flight response kicking in and insisting she turn heel and run away, get out of this wondrous collection of ruined buildings. There was only one little missing detail that she needed to do so. Not having such a detail prevented the magic-phobic from acting on her feelings. There was no definitive prompt. There was nothing that reached out and grabbed her. Nothing that whispered boo. One magical word uttered to her, one incantation directed her way, that was all it would take... but no. All she had was a tingle! A tingle, no matter how concerning could be ignored.

Yvonne's mood shifted toward cantankerous. How dare they taint tha air with their sorcery? What be their thinking? It's not natural. There be consequences for bending reality about as ye please, and I doubt any of them will be pretty. Maybe it was the fatigue of walking through the jungle for so long. Perhaps it was the heavy burden of the panther-corpse draped across her shoulders. There might have been more than a prickle of magic making the dwarf hybrid cranky. Blood was dripping onto the cobblestones occasionally, leaving red spots. The liquid of life had been running down her arms and back for a while, seeping from the panther's mortal wound. The crossbow bolt was still protruding from its spine up on high.

The half-dwarf was so caught up in her fear and anger, her mind afluster, it hadn't dawned on her how intimidating she appeared to those that lived here. Many fae people were coming and going, running their daily errands, brushing shoulders with each other as they normally would. None of them had dared to brush shoulders with Yvonne. She looked peeved and they kept a wide berth. Lumbering along with a large dead cat big enough to eat many of them in a bite or two, and this dwarf had obviously slain it herself, lugging the trophy kill into the city like bloody dripping luggage. No, they didn't want to mess with this savage. No siree.

Felicity appeared to be having fun. Yvonne spotted her up ahead, circling around, taking everything in with wide-eyed wonder. The grey dwarf could hardly take it all in - what with the bright sunlight and the gigantic feline bending her neck out of shape - but seeing her optimistic companion enjoying herself so much pacified Yvonne's prickly attitude. She scoffed silently to herself. Ye sweet, predictable fool. Of course ye take no issue with tha place.

Barely had the cat-carrier caught up with the fiery red-head when off she ran again, on and into a modest little butchery, so hungry all she could think about was sustenance. Couldn't blame her. Yvonne was hungry too. Maybe that was why she felt cranky. The blood-dripping dwarf noticed a sign, dangling from a simple steel-linked chain. It read Zrazire's Prime Cuts. Modest means but bold personality. "Let's hope yer product lives up ta yer name, Mister Zrazire," she muttered. The strain in her arms and neck was overwhelming, now that the end was nigh. Soon she would be able to set this chubby kitty down and have a rest.

She followed Felicity in through the wooden front door and brought her dead cat inside too, though at least the bolt-wound had fully coagulated and the blood had stopped dripping a trail in her wake.

[Flamebird]

Zrazire's Prime Cuts.

They stepped into the butcher’s shop. Their footsteps, which had been patterning against aged stone, suddenly hit smooth marble instead. The floor was stained with the blood of slain animals, trickling all around. The strong, foul smell of it was accompanied by the disgusting sound of knives tearing through meat, the carcasses being torn apart. Felicity remembered a time when she was grossed out by this sort of thing – now, however, she was completely desensitized. The walled up room was hot from the fires; smoke clouded the air. The luggage burdened girl had to stop and cough, thus announcing the duet’s presence.

A young man came forth to greet them. He seemed… near human. Well, actually, the scales on his skin, bald head, and reptilian eyes set him apart. Clearly, he was a drakari – and the lowest member of his caste. He was hunkered over, yet smiling. “Welcome to Zrazire's! How may we serve you?”

From the back, in another room, a hostile shouting briefly pushed Felicity into guard – she had been in the wilderness for weeks after all. It was not just the acquaintanceship with the wilds that caused her heart to pound, however. In the back of her mind, she was reminded of a distant past. As Felicity squinted in the smoke corroded room, Yvonne had set down her cat and started talking to the meek butcher. Felicity heard the sounds more clearly as her senses adjusted to the hearth.

“Who has the claws around here? Me! Not you. You hunt the beasts! I butcher them."

Despite the heat, goosebumps popped up on her back. Eyes widened, body stiffened. Her scaly hand pressed against a wooden table. Her snow pale skin was almost green. The smell of blood, the taste of it, only made her situation work. Her post traumatic stress disorder was caused by her second traumatic experience in life. Second. Now, her first trauma was dancing in her head as well. This… this was why she focused on the external world. To escape her inner haides. Her fingers dug into the table, pulling up scraps of wood.

She had had enough. She was about to join Yvonne in her negotiations, whatever they were, but a voice thunder cracked from a back door. Another drakari stepped in, sporting scales and sharper features head to toe. This was a member of the Claw Caste. His slitted brimstone eyes glowed in searing rage. “You are costing us business, impure blood!”

The employee shrunk in place, pulling himself into a self preserving hug. Zrazire did not yield in his merciless verbal strikes. Insults, accusations, and blatant racism erupted from his sharp toothed jaws. Never was the lesser drakari called by name, he was called… “it.”

And “it” was losing the butcher’s shop business. Apparently.

An internal chord snapped.

Without warning, the girl raised her fist. She brought it down to the table. It broke upon impact. She was vibrating, violently. She might as well have been having a controlled seizure. Her face was crimson shaded. Her eyes were quenched shut. This man may have been angry, but she was ten times worse.

There was a monster beneath that peppy teenage girl.

The monster had come out.

[Yvonne]

Yvonne smiled knowingly, seeing through the assistant's thin pretense of a warm welcome. The scaly drakari's body language spoke to her, like a flock of messenger pigeons each with a note tied to their leg. Each mannerism he displayed came together to tell a story the grey dwarf could speed-read, from avoidance of eye contact, overuse of his fidgety hands to the poorly concealed frown and shoulder-slouching posture. They said it all. His welcome was a lie, autonomous, forced. He neither wanted to welcome the duo inside the store, nor serve them. He wanted to be anywhere but here.

"I be looking ta--," Yvonne began, though hardly able to squeak a word in sideways before the room was drowned out with shouting.

"--make a trade," she finished, a scowl settling into her expression. I see. That explains tha subdued mood. How ta work this ta our advantage? The negotiator gently, gently brought the black panther carcass to rest upon the counter between them, signifying considerable value, to herself and to the butchery. She neatened the position of the animal, revealing the respect she had for it in death, respect the drakari should share.

More shouting interrupted their dealings and the dwarf hybrid had already taken blows to her extensive patience, but it was trickling away now like a cracked hourglass - the sand spilling out. Yvonne didn't even need to turn and check, didn't have to glance nor ask her to know Felicity was having tremendous difficulty with this situation. She could sense her building stress, her deliberate silence despite starvation and the trader knew, in that moment, she either had to end the boss's despotic attitude or they needed to leave.

The black-skinned hybrid who'd been bullied throughout childhood watched the abuse unfold before her, right there at the counter. It was disgraceful, a thoughtless absence of respect for his employees, for his customers and for the exchange on the table. The business owner, this Zrazire, needed to be told a thing or two about how to run a business and how to treat other people.

Yvonne left the panther and walked around the counter with a stern step to her stride. Emitting confidence and imminent justice she pushed through the saloon door and closed the distance between her and the claw caste drakari. He'd turned to reprimand his customer for entering where they didn't belong and found a disciplinary finger poking up at him. "You can't--" he attempted.

"Now ye listen ta me," Yvonne demanded, facing up to the spike-laden Zrazire close enough to smell his hot, fuming breath. "This ends. Right now. This behaviour, not acceptable."

Felicity put her fist through a table, struggling to keep control of overwhelming emotion. The business owner turned to yell, "My furniture--!" Yvonne slapped his cheek to face her again, her accusing finger resumed pointing up at him once more.

"Look at me. Focus. Collateral damage of your temper. Ye be costing yerself business. Nobody wants ta work under a tyrant, a bully." The way she delivered the b-word was absolutely caustic, "Now ye apologize ta yer employee, to yer customers and then, go out tha back and think about what ye've done."

Zrazire was menacingly silent. His sharp teeth bared in a hateful grimace. His claws prepared, ready to shred the black-skinned bitch standing in front of him into pieces. This could go one of two ways. He could retaliate or he could do as he was told, like an obedient little drakari.

[Flamebird]

Well, Yvonne stepped in and behaved as if she owned the place.

If Felicity’s dark side wasn’t controlling her, she would have loved it.

Yvonne scolded him like he was a rotten child. As she finished her lecture, to a guy three times bigger than herself, the Claw wore a deep scowl. He seemed speechless for a moment, before doing something one should never do to a short person – bending down to her. He met her “mother bear” expression with his cruel own. The tension could be cut with a knife as he whispered darkly.

“Zrazire doesn’t know who you think you are, little girl.” Felicity started to walk towards them in quiet fury as he shook his finger in the half dwarf's face, “But I’m in charge here. I, Zrazire, demand that you apologize and repay funds for that table!”

His eyes shook, dilated, as he rose his hand. Claws extended, he screamed, “Apologies to Zrazire! Apol-”

Just as he started to swing, a hand caught his wrist. The scaly butcher turned his head to see the redhead. She was shaking in pure rage, eyes shadowed and bloodshot. A bitter tear trickled down her crimson shaded cheek as she dug into his pressure points. Nothing could be seen in her but a wrath so deep, even the drakari stepped back in a bit of fear. – Oddly enough, due to her shorter appendages, she had to lean over the counter to hold him. As he pulled away, she jumped up onto the counter and lept onto the other side. She stood between Zrazire and Yvonne.

The dragon blood swiped his reptilian tongue across his green lips, “Fool! What are you- you dare-“

At long last, Felicity opened her mouth. Once the floodgate was opened, it kept flowing. “You despicable, low life scum! How dare you treat anyone like they’re less than you! Like you're a perfect thayne! Oh! You sick, twisted, dirty little-“

The volcano never stopped erupting. It was a violent eruption. The side of the mountain exploded as lava spewed from all sides. Unrelenting, excruciating, merciless. Zrazire kept deathly cool.

Sarcasm dripped from his lips, “Zrazire thinks you don't know how things work around here, child. In Dheathian-“

“-Do you think I care how things work around here!” Felicity boomed, hand falling on her sword's hilt, “Where I came from, my kind was treated like dirt!”

“-Maybe you are! For breaking my table!” Zrazire berated her right back. “How dare you make the amazing Zrazire suffer, you intolerable-“

Felicity drew her blade, heaving, “-Well, how does it feel to suffer the way you made oth-“

It hit her.

Memories, stunning and scarring, invaded. It was a hostile takeover. For a brief second, Felicity was not at the butcher’s shop. She was not surrounded by the scents of newly salted and processed meats. She was not surrounded by a hazy air or the sticky stench of blood. She was not standing before a clawed drakari. No… she was on the cold floor of an abandoned coliseum. She looked up in complete shock as the feeling of stinging tingled her slapped cheek. Standing before her, back turned, was a brunette, pale woman. She had blood splotched all over her blue, armored outfit. Crimson painted sword in hand, her eyes were wide in rage. As a woman and young child watched in traumatized horror, the small half-elf screamed at a bloodied, cowering man.

“P-please!” He cried, his blood and tears pounding against the tiled floor, “Not in front of my family! Don’t make them suff-“

She brought her sword down, cutting his cheek. He wailed out. Without a second thought, the woman boldly asked, “Well, how does it feel to suffer the way you made others?”

Felicity moved to reach for the woman, but before she could-

-*Slash!*

The moment of disassociation was broken when a present day wound stung for a millisecond before stopping dead. The girl's eyes widened, watching the floor as droplets of fresh blood fell. Her sword had been dropped when she briefly blacked out. It was a moment of shock, before her abilities completely took over.

Anyone standing near her would feel the invisible side effects. Mild sickness, unlethal yet distracting, would surround their bodies. Harmful radiation caused anything from running noses to nausea. The drakari, whom had made the mistake of using his prided claws on her, brought his hand to his mouth as he gagged. He staggered back, face slightly decolored. “Wha-what did you do to Zra-“

With Felicity’s anger and strength bolstered by the bleed, nothing was there to hold her back. She proceeded to punch him in the face before he could even finish. He flew back, sliding across the stretch of floor. In a matter of luck, he hit nothing and nothing was there to hurt him. Aside a newly bloodied nose and bruises, he was actually fine.

Felicity, however, was not. Her Berserk Rage, which only lasted about fifteen seconds, turned off. The physical pain was incredible, but it paled in comparison to her mental and emotional pain. Well, now the double whammy of her dark ability being activated and trauma induced flashback demolished her. Burning rage turned into rainy sorrow. Now, she fell to her knees. Shaking in both inward based fear and growing malnutrition, she wept bitter tears.

[Yvonne]

Felicity's fist connected with Zrazire's toothy jaw, a clean and well-delivered blow that dispatched the behemoth through the air and across the slick, marble floor. The fiery warrior crumbled to her knees in tears, overcome with emotion. She had protected the diminutive drow with her own body, prevented a clawed swipe meant for Yvonne and in the interim suffered one of her own. They would have to take a look at the wound as soon as possible, apply a herbal remedy and a bandage, but first--

Yvonne's turn.

She felt so utterly enraged by Zrazire's pigheadedness - that he would dare raise a clawed hand against her and muster the audacity to lacerate Felicity - it was absolutely sickening to her stomach. There wasn't a chance in the ninth and final hell Yvonne was going to take that lying down, but - sprawled horizontally upon the marble, clutching his face - Zrazire would have to deal with audacity lying down, from her.

Her heeled boots scrunched with the strain of leather, each slow, tense step she placed ahead of herself broadcasting just how furious she felt. Nobody inflicts pain on me friends. Nobody! Not ye! Not yer dog! Not yer Aunty! I. Will. Not. Tolerate. It.

Yvonne ground her footing into place next to Zrazire's head. She bent down to meet him on his level - which felt so much more proper - for the first time since meeting the spiked oppressor. Her words were a whisper. Black as her skin. Threatening. Sinister. Cold.

"If ye think that hurt, yer in for a shock," she began, gritting her teeth, her silver eyes glinting, deadly. "I will tear every piece of wood in this building apart. I will shatter every stone ye have built yer business upon. Everything ye know ta be yer own will crumble around ye. Everything ye have ever done ta yer employees will lash back on ye one hundred fold. I will build a business identical ta this one right next door. I will recruit every employee ye have. I will take every customer that was ever unlucky enough ta walk through yer door. I will leave ye with nothing. Yer family will starve because ye were a prick ta tha wrong bitch. Don't think for a second that I can't or I won't. I will ruin you, Zrazire."

Yvonne seethed, exhaling fury through her flaring nostrils, completely unafraid of the draconic abuser beneath her. He could have torn her limb from limb, but the sheer weight of her voice held him down. She hadn't even lain a finger on him, but for the life of him he could not rise.

"Ye have no idea who yer dealing with. I will become yer worst nightmare." That pointing finger emphasized her frightening intention. She was deadly serious, every word. She would build a business next door if he didn't change his ways. She would destroy his life and there would be no claws, no swords.

"Scurry away little worm, before I squash ye," she fumed. "Crawl away ta yer darkest hiding place and don't come out until we have gone!" Only at the tail end of her command did she finally raise her voice to a dangerous growl.

Zrazire did exactly as he was bid. He bailed into the back rooms, hurrying away, tail betwixt his legs. Yvonne watched him go, breathing heavily, daggers for eyes.

It was about this time that the assistant cautiously peeked out from below the counter, eyes wide at the goings on.

[Flamebird]

Am I just like her?

Tears pounded the cold floor as her storm cloud grew. Dark grey clouds of gloom, thunder of violent self loathing.

I can’t be like her!

Her forehead was pressed against the cold floor. Her back throbbed as the exhausted girl completely fell out of function. She… needed a moment…

Can’t be her shadow!

She was nauseous. The feeling that urged her to rid herself of bile still was not that strong. Her stomach was left with stone heavy feelings of sickness. Putrid, filthy, disgusting…

No!

Her tears were amplified as she crumpled. Like a rose which barely hung on, and finally let go. It was not over, yet… it sure felt like it. So she would not mind being left to rot. So starved, so exasperated, so tired, so lost… Leave her to perish, in her unhealthy mentality she would of cared less. The emotions she avoided for so long lunged at her at her weakest. Degraded to what she was, a fragile child, the girl felt to full effects of her own trauma induced anxiety attack her own home. It was a cycle she still failed to realize she had.


She ran away from her problems.
She pushed herself too far.
It all caught up to her and had another panic attack.
She ceased to function anywhere from a day to a month or so.
She vowed not to let herself go again.
Repeat.

These emotions were temporary, however. Not all wounds healed, they left scars. Yet, one day, she would recover enough and learn to live better. That seemed decades away from happening, however. As of now, the seventeen year old clearly needed time to recover before being nursed back to health. Locked inside her own head, insanity, the storm raged wilder than ever.

Externally, her wounds were not so bad - although still bad at all. The slash across her stomach let droplets of crimson leak out. It slightly soaked her clothes, thinly showered the floor. The scent of the boss's urine, her blood, and animal roast made her nausea worse. The taste of her salty tears, the small bit of vomit soiling the back of her mouth, was horrific. She barely felt the heavy sweat coating her entire body. Neither did she hear the worker pipe up from the other side of the counter.

The poor girl was not functioning.

It was hopeful that her new friend would catch onto the severity of the problem. She was starved and physically burnt out, now injured and suffering a panic attack. Luckily, Yvonne was shrewd and clever.

[Yvonne]

Yvonne quietly made her way back to her appropriate place, returning to the customer area in front of the counter, gently brushing between the same saloon door she'd rushed through earlier. She silently arrived at the counter once more - the panther resting in peace - and she politely waited for service, giving the business a second and final chance. The counter appeared to be empty, but the grey dwarf knew the drakari assistant was trembling beneath the bench, his hands holding his head, praying these customers would go away.

No luck. Yvonne rung the bell for assistance.

The scale drakari peeped a look above the counter-top once again, couldn't see anyone there, and for a satisfied moment fancied the notion the coast was clear after all. He picked himself up from the floor properly, stood upright and only then realized his error. His height had brought the little nightmare into view - she was trading stares with him and hers was far less impressed. She didn't like needing to wait for incompetence to sort itself out.

"Here be what be going ta happen. Ye going ta take this jungle predator, tha likes of which ye rarely manage ta bring down and haul back in tha wild without losing a man or two. Ye going ta skin it as neatly as ye know how, like yer own life depended on keeping it in tact. Do I make meself clear? Good. Clean tha pelt and keep it safe for me. Tha claws and teeth also, preserve them and be careful with them. Those not be for ye," Yvonne instructed precisely, the nervous scale nodding his head timidly.

"Tha flesh be yours. Surely a premium quality meat upon tha likes of which ye could make a tidy sum. I bet ye'll have a line of hungry drakari in here shortly. They already know panther meat will soon be for sale. They watched me haul it in ta ye, without offering ta help me carry it mind ye," she said derisively, her silver eyes squinting dangerously. The scale widened his eyes fearfully, making an attempt to apologize for the trouble but the customer pressed on over the top of him.

"We'll be trading tha panther meat's worth for an equivalent amount in more common meat, deer perhaps. I expect that would be at least three deer worth and we will take one now, coming back later throughout tha week for the others, understood? Now go! Go get one for me. Wait! Wait," she halted him dead in his tracks. Yvonne flicked a glance to Felicity, checking to see if she wanted anything in particular.

Felicity barely looked alive and that wound appeared positively dreadful. Tsk. Nope, this won't do.

"We'll also be taking yer business's medical supplies. Tha whole kit, thank ye," Yvonne concluded. The scale creased his brow, opened his mouth and-- "Don't argue with me mister, I have an emergency ta deal with now because of yer boss. If he be having an issue with it he can take it up with me personally. I'll happily tear strips off him once more, and if he ever bullies ye again ye come ta me, understood? I won't stand for that maltreatment. Ye tell all yer co-workers, all yer friends, Yvonne is in town. Tha meat and medical kit. Go! Hurry! She's bleeding!"

The charismatic force of will shook her head as the drakari ran off, turning to the wounded warrior woman resting on her knees. Yvonne was practically at eye level with Felicity while she was subdued like this. She gently cupped her cheeks with her black-skinned hands checking her awareness, put a hand to her forehead testing her temperature. Burning up. Not good. With a thumb and forefinger she propped the redhead's right eyelid open and drew near, looking extremely closely into that green unfathomable sea.

"... Fel-ic-it-y. Ye be with me dear? Can ye hear me? It be okay now. Tha bad monster be gone. ... Felicity? Who be ye? Say yer name for me," the half-dwarf questioned, her concern for the lass growing immeasurably.

[Flamebird]

Felicity was there.

Barely.

The girl’s empty eyes blinked, eyeing the dwarf as green shakily locked with silver. It took several moments, as she heaved, but the girl mumbled, her old lisp completely returned as she slurred, “Fewicity.”

The girl still shook, crumbling to the ground on her side. Head placed against the floor, she could see the ghostly smoke and steam swirling around the room. This dark, shaded place seemed perfect for a relapse time at first glance, but alas, Felicity was in critical condition. The pain in her stomach seared as toxic blood slowly spilled. If anyone were to even touch her blood, the nuclear fluid would sting. At this moment, Felicity didn’t process that Yvonne would be trying to patch her up. She did not have the energy to. The redhead started to breathe deeply, closing her teary eyes as she made her first attempt to calm down.

The pain only glared more with her eyes shut. It was a surprising blessing in disguise, as the pain was enough to wake her from her chilling memory, her scorching thoughts. She listened to the noises in the room. Yvonne’s voice, the drakari worker, the cooking meat and squishy carcasses. The smell of food made her stomach growl, but her nausea prevented her from processing the hunger properly. For someone so close to malnourishment, she had lost any appetite. The sadness that dragged her to the floor, like a bolder pulling one down a lake, was heavy and rough.

The sounds of a door swinging, footsteps scurrying, were emitted. The voice of the scale drakari was hurried and rushed, “We working on the meat, ma'am. Here's the medical supplies.”

Felicity dazedly opened her eyes again. She saw Yvonne’s feet, the colorless, blurred surroundings were currently too much to all take in. Footsteps could be seen through the haze. Felicity’s brain still was not functioning enough to warn her not to operate unwisely.

How would a dwarf of Alerar react to nuclear blood?

[Yvonne]

Yvonne grinned - Felicity's lispy whisper broke the silence and reassured the half-dwarf that it wasn't all over for her. They weren't out of the woods yet but the neanderthal hybrid's voice inspired hope. With some first aid and sustenance - Ye be kidding me!? Ye haven't got any pre-cooked deer on hand!? Patience of stone, patience of stone-- Felicity should make a full recovery. Seeing as the food was taking its sweet time, the simmering mongrel opened the medical kit and rummaged through it.

"Ye were as brave as a dwarven sentinel back there. A real heroine," Yvonne commended, vocalizing the truth of it in order to keep the berserker awake. She was concealing it well but there was definitely a queasiness in the pit of her empty stomach, which was strange because normally she handled the sight of blood better. The black-skinned medic ignored how she felt, she didn't matter right now - Felicity did. She removed her fingerless leather gloves and pulled on a pair of clean, thinner ones from the kit. Grabbing a cloth she tried to clear the severed skin of blood so she could see what needed to be done.

Yvonne's surprise was profound when she realized there were wisps of smoke rising from the cloth. What, wait, that not be right. She stretched the cloth out in front of her wide silver eyes, and, surely enough, Felicity's blood was gradually devouring the material. There was a tiny hole which she could see right through. Good grief woman, ye didn't mention neanderthals have acid-blood! This complicates things.

The drow-dwarf medic would need more cloth to get her companion bandaged up, because the bleeding would work against the process. She soaked up what blood she could, carefully folded the cloth over to make it thicker and pressed it to the wound, getting blood all over her thin gloves. There was a wool blanket in the kit so that was immediately pulled out, slicing knife brought to bear upon it. Yvonne tore wool strips free and placed them over the cloth too, making a makeshift padding. That would need to hold - she shook her head at the thought of needle and thread, Felicity's blood would eat right through the thread - while she bandaged her friend.

Lifting Felicity at the hip gently Yvonne began to wrap her up around the middle single-handedly, under and back over, under and over. Securing it with a pin the wound was bound, but--

"Ow, ow," Yvonne reacted, pulling her hands free of the gloves falling to pieces. "Argh! That does not tickle." The medic struggled to complete first aid on herself, digging through their things looking for Felicity's purified water from the river. Finding it she poured some over her fuming flesh to dilute and wash the blood from her hand. It helped, soothing her of the writhing pain though it still tingled her skin.

"Miss, uh, Miss Yvonne? Your- your deer is ready," the drakari stammered, offering a large and wrapped bundle of cooked meat.

"I be a tad busy at tha moment, can't ye see? Put it on tha counter or ye'll contaminate--" Yvonne paused. Blinked. Swallowed.

"--contaminate tha food. Sorry if I sound cranky, me friend be hurt and she doesn't deserve ta be," she managed to finish. She felt like her body wanted to vomit, but she pushed it down. Breathed. Ignored it.

[Flamebird]

Yvonne came off as soft and calm, trying to keep things controlled and contained as she worked to patch her up. Yet, as she wrapped bandages around the redhead's body, the child could feel her shaking – then –

“Ow! Ow!”

Oh yes. The nuclear blood.

The dwarf’s eyes watered as she struggled to press on. She poured water on her hand and endured. Felicity’s eyes watered as well, but from emotion.

”Ye were as brave as a dwarven sentinel back there. A real heroine!”

Was she?

“Me friend be hurt and she doesn't deserve ta be.”

She did not?

She could see her toxic blood searing. It was strange, how Felicity’s powers reflected her personality. She pooled all of her violence, all of her agony, on the inside. She stored the negativity somewhere deep, albeit not deep enough. And when it came out… wow… it was a freak show. The aggression, the rage, the agony. She broke everything she touched, intoxicated the room with her putrid, dark, anger. If the explosions and wounds inflicted were not enough to chase people away, it would slowly kill anyone who stayed. It all went back to an insecurity she battled with her whole life. It all stemmed from ages of discrimination, personal attacks, rejection, and betrayals. Tears of a slightly orange dim glow streamed down the living bomb's face. She sobbed again. The room was already fuming with humidity from the butchery’s cooking, the vile wreaking of freshly slaughtered produce. Now, the room had been exposed to nuclear radiation for as long as fifteen seconds. Most of the affects were gone, but a dedicated Yvonne still working to fix a gaping wound was still exposed. The physical pain, oh, the physical pain was nothing. Much deeper was another wound, which Yvonne would finally see in the fullest. Yvonne was clearly nauseous. She was clearly in pain. The magic despising half drow was still here. Why? Why? Thoughts rampaged through the teen's mind. Why did she not leave when she saw…

She saw…

“Yvonne…”

Felicity lifted her shaking, pale arms.

“Why?”

In an instant, she grabbed the short woman and pushed her a single step back. Felicity looked up from the floor, watching Yvonne with such a burning intensity. Wide, dilated eyes burned holes through the woman’s head as Felicity spoke through the pain and tears, “Why are you helping me?”

The words of faceless millions corroded her mind. Flashes of misery and disaster corsed through her thoughts like lightning. Her mouth gaped open. She screamed.

“You saw what I am! Why are you still here! I use your much disliked arcane magic! Why else are you physically hurting when you touch me! And I can’t control it! Why try to help a monster!"

Her apathetic lack of mercy towards the shop keep replayed. Her flashback to her mentor before her played and skipped as the girl lifted a balled fist. She took a long shaky breath as she screamed, “I'M A MONSTER!”

She was so physically weakened, the girl brought down a fist that usually could destroy the floor with ease. Instead, it barely left a small thudding noise. She screamed again, then exclaimed as she bawled, “They were right! Oh, they were right! I'm a monster! I almost killed him! I should never-

She stopped mid sentence as her back throbbed. With the remaining hand holding Yvonne, she tried to push her away. Whether or not it worked, she did not see as she watched the floor, wishing it would open up and swallow her. “I deserve death! Death! I’m a monster! They were right! Leave me! Leave me alone!”

She crumpled to the floor again as she hoarsely screeched, “Can't you see I'm hurting you?! You can’t be hurt by me! Please! I can't hurt you! You're too good to be close to me! Leave me! Let me die- let me d…”

[Yvonne]

Felicity lashed out at her, not to injure, but to push her away and create distance between them. The fiery-haired berserker glared at Yvonne with eyes to match those scarlet strands, such roiling and boiling, quiet fury the Alerian swore to herself she could feel the blistering heat on her skin. Her companion, her friend had one simplistic question to ask of her, one potent, powerful question to pose.

Why?

The furious berserker erupted red hot wrath, channelling the fury of her soul through her voice and unleashed the hell she experienced routinely unto the individual who had tried to help her. Felicity gave Yvonne a taste, an ember of how she felt and it shook her benefactor to their very core. The wounded woman screamed follow-through questions that impacted like definitive statements, each assailment another blow that lead back to her original question.

Why? Yvonne... Why?

Whether it was the searing tears burning trails down Felicity's cheeks - her anguish so openly on display - or the scorching remarks that deliberately ignited a firewall between them, tears of her own welled up in Yvonne's goggled eyes. She took them off the moment her vision became blurred with a watery haze, and as soon as she did her tears streamed down her cheeks like cascading falls. She'd been taken entirely by surprise, holding no expectation whatsoever that Felicity could let loose a volcano of agony and in her direction, least of all. No, she hadn't anticipated this outcome. Consistently what would happen was, when Yvonne went out of her way to help someone suffering, she was met with gratitude. Thanks.

Not this time. Yvonne's silvery eyes shied away from those flaming furnaces billowing a hellstorm for her, looking to the left-open medical kit from which she'd pulled all the tools she needed to bandage Felicity's wound. Her trembling hands closed it, symbolizing her charity and support were coming to an end. All these tools strewn about, all the effort - the lengths she had gone to, socially-demolishing the owner of this storefront, imposing her will on the milksop assistant, sweeping her fears and feelings aside to operate on her gaping wound... how did any of it mean anything, how did it matter at all if Felicity wasn't grateful for it?

Yvonne had no words. For all her etiquette tutoring in Kachuck, all of Abel's mentoring as they'd travelled most of the known world, all of the people she'd confronted to grasp onto some kind of ledge on the social-cliff she'd been falling from throughout her life... this was a confrontation she didn't want to have. She had no grounds to stand on, couldn't argue with one of the first people she'd ever met that was so much like her, a hybridization of races that could barely tolerate each other. To quarrel with Felicity was to quarrel with her blood-sister. To fight with Felicity was to fight with herself.

There were no words at all.

Yvonne turned away from the explosive teen and took hesitant steps toward the door. She was trembling uncontrollably, her legs shaking to such a degree she could scarcely walk in a straight line. Her spyglass goggles, her clockwork gloves she abandoned - her sorrow flooding her face - as she neared the doorway to the outside world, her tear-droplets shaking free of her black skin as she quivered hysterically. Her phobia was wracking her entire body - she was so afraid she didn't know herself anymore, experienced so much dread and terror that this couldn't possibly be real... could it?

If what Felicity had screamed at her was true - that she was a magic-manipulating mage - she should go, run, run away and never look back. Run out into that blistering sunlight that felt like a mild fever compared with the wrath she was being subjected to here. This entire city - this Donnalaich, her thoughts spat the name - was a coven of witches her dark elven brethren would love nothing more than to put to the torch. Why had she ever come here at all? Why had she submerged herself in this cesspit of magic? Why had she aligned herself with someone who practiced the arcane?

Should her superiors - or so they presumed themselves to be - ever discovered she had willingly sought refuge, refuge among the ruined buildings of wicked practitioners of sorcery, or cavorted with a travelling companion who dabbled in reality-bending hocus pocus... she would be exiled from her homeland forever at best, and executed as a foul demon-communing witch at worst. She would be made an example, for all dark elves and dwarves to take as a lesson from her charred, crisp corpse, to steer well away from in their own lives. Never play with mystical forces beyond the scope of rational thought and science, or you will be brought to heel.

Yvonne broke down and wailed, wholly and utterly howled with grief. New tears filled her silver eyes to the brim. She had always tried to act upon what she believed to be right. Everything she had done, every struggle she had overcome, every argument she had won she had known herself to be in the right. Felicity had a good heart beating in her chest, had a compassionate soul holding her to this world and yet here they were... opposed. They had come so far through the jungle, helped each other survive the dangers that desired to eat them alive and now, now they were met with conflict? They had arrived at a stalemate?

The grey dwarf's gaping lower lip quavered as she, herself, was harnessed by her own immense sorrow to be the conduit of her despair. The floodgates were well and truly broken. Yvonne's aching grief drowned out all sound in the room, her pain shuddering through her meager dwarven body. She struggled to take a breath, her sadness eking out every last ounce of time it could take from her as it forced itself to be known. She struggled, struggled, closed her elven eyes and spilled all of those brimming tears at once, like dams breaking and releasing the reservoirs. Finally she managed to take a breath, but the unmitigated suffering and torment she had experience throughout her entire life could be understood in that one inhaling outcry.

"No Felicity. No. I won't go. Nobody can tell me I be doing tha wrong thing. Nobody should ever be made ta feel how ye and I have been made ta feel. I will go ta tha ends of tha earth ta ensure that nobody suffers how we have suffered. Tha ends of tha earth! Ye understand me?" Yvonne vowed, the question she knew Felicity would feel understanding for in her very bones. In her excruciating, black blood.

Yvonne hurried toward the neanderthal hybrid, her willpower - unrivalled by no woman or man on this plane of existence - allowing her to decide, in that moment for herself, she alone was in control of her own fate. The half-dwarf was met with the barring hands of the berserker trying to keep her at bay, Felicity's demands of "Leave me! Leave me alone!" trying to turn her away as she rushed to the fiery woman. Yvonne sidestepped around her block and embraced her side, burying her tear-drenched face against her back and holding on for dear life. The warrior might fight her still, throw her off in rage-induced tantrum and if that happened so be it. She would make her will known and nothing could stop her. Not anger, not fear, not sorrow. Nothing.

"There be a monster in all of us, dear. How we control that monster... it breaks us, or makes us," Yvonne spoke, offering deep and meaningful words of wisdom through her shuddering sobs.

Was she afraid? Yes, but in this moment she realized what she was truly afraid of. It wasn't magic that inspired her terror. It was rejection from people she cared about, and Yvonne cared for essentially everyone until they gave her a reason not to. Her phobia was a fear only of magic because her dark elven brethren despised it with their very being. It was them turning their backs on her that filled her with dread-tremors... but she would let them all turn away from her if this one would remain.

Ta hell with them and their misguided hatred!

[Flamebird]

What sort of mental illness was manipulating Yvonne’s head? What was this madness? Why did she come back? What was driving her to help this wretch survive another pathetic day? What was this insanity that made her cling to her back as if her life force was bound to hers? Why did she stay? Did Yvonne not see her for the animal she was?

Felicity was not used to this. How should she respond?

Most people she knew could not handle her – or simply did not care. Her own country of origin scoffed or plotted murder against her. She was an unplanned, unwanted child of an unfortunate, unwilling mother who instantly turned her back on the product of shame. Her uncle, and her cousin, they brought her up – only to die the most tragic of deaths. Her alchemy teacher, who gifted her her berserk powers, was slowly unwinding as a psychopath. Her older sister figure and teacher became the Executioner of the Wicked, wanted in all but few countries for the crimes she committed against other criminals. Her sister, her mentor, then turned to abuse her…

A select few people ever gave her this… this… was this pity? Compassion? Love? It had been so long between the pockets of time she was lucky enough to feel loved, she almost forgot what it was like. Now, only her older brother figure Nevin gave her this real, vulnerable consideration. Even then, her unrealistic, warped insecurities on whether or not he truly cared – or just saw her as a cool science project – clanged like gongs in her head. They were irrational, but with a history like Felicity’s were these fears uncalled for? Yvonne was one of the select few. What vile action was this? What form of bond was this?

Felicity tried to push her away, but Yvonne did not move. She threw her temper tantrums and had her fits. Yvonne stood firm. Felicity hurdled outcries and screams her way. Yvonne did not budge. She was not nearly as physically strong as Felicity, but through sheer willpower and mental might she wrestled Felicity down, exhausted her. Yvonne finally won. Out of breath, out of energy, out of power, Felicity took quick, heavy breaths as Yvonne defiantly wrapped her wound. Regardless of the pain, regardless of anything and anyone… Yvonne stayed.

After long last, a chilled, relieving silence took over the room.

As Yvonne tightened the bandages, Felicity remembered her words, echoing through her mind. In a faint, timid whisper, the child warned her in remorseful tears. Her lisp came back as the drained girl shivered, “You haven’t seen any-ing near -e monst'a inside ’a me. I assure you… You hav'n’t seen ‘e wo'st of…”

Her vision was splotched with black spots as the girl silently sobbed, “You have no idea what you' get'n into… hewping me…”

…

“But fank- fa- ... thank you. So much..."

The last of her energy crashed through the floor. Combined with her physical, mental, and emotional stress, she was finally finished off. As Yvonne finished helping in the binding of her physical wound – and the start of the much deeper one beneath – she lost consciousness. Lost within the entanglement of all these emotions, difficulties, and obstacles, she was beaten. Her loaded eyes fell shut, locked down.

[Yvonne]

The scale drakari flipped over the hanging sign in the front window, from open to closed. His boss would be incensed with him if he noticed the temporary closure, but his boss had also been sobered by the criticising speech of this miniscule foreigner. He knew with certainty who's side he wanted to be standing on if another dispute broke out between the two, and it wasn't his hulking bully of a employer. Maybe Zrazire would fire him for insubordination, but...

...so what? By the sound of things he could be the first in line for employment at a new business next door, if that was how things were going down. This Yvonne creature, with her tremendous voice and tiny body would see that he and his family were well provided for. He was accustomed to looking up to bigger, stronger and more physically dangerous male drakari where the social hierarchy was concerned, but here he was, looking down, and acting on her behalf without command.

He kneeled down to pick up the first aid utensils and place them back in the medical kit, cleaning the blood on them and from the floor with rags as he did so. As he stooped down to sort through the disarray his concerned, draconian-slit eyes looked to the unconscious half-neanderthal, before shifting uncomfortably toward the half-dwarven woman, still cognizant and watching him, watching over her blood-sister.

"How do I help you help her... tiny matriarch? She needs a den to shelter and rest," the scale drakari suggested.

"There be another blanket in me backpack. If ye can find for me two metal rods or sturdy sticks we will make a stretcher ta carry her. I think it may be best ta make for tha edge of town and make camp on tha outskirts for tonight," Yvonne replied, her voice coarse and weary from over-use.

"We've caused enough of a disturbance in Donnalaich for one day. Felicity would benefit from peace, quiet and a hot meal when she awakens. I need tha very same. Ye be willing ta help me carry her and help us settle in for tha night, mister...? I be sorry, I never caught yer name dear," Yvonne admitted apologetically.

"Shaseth, little matriarch. You honour me with the question," the scale drakari revealed, making himself acquainted.

"Shaseth. Ye have made a life-changing decision today. Yer assistance will not go unnoticed nor unrewarded. I thank ye, for yer willingness ta act when it be frightening ta do so," Yvonne praised.



And so their newfound drakari supporter, and Yvonne herself, packed up their equipment and cleaned up their mess at the entrance to the storefront. They built the stretcher and gently carried Felicity to the outskirts of Donnalaich, where the town rubble ended and the jungle tendrils began, making a peaceful camp. Yvonne gave her exhausted companion a comfortable bed with plenty of moss padding from the river, warm blanket from dismantling the stretcher and a soft pillow from her backpack. She cooked a hearty deer stew in her cooking pot above a quiet, crackling fire, kept a perceptive lookout throughout her surroundings for feline ambush predators, her crossbow always at the ready. When everything was in order Shaseth returned to his wife and young ones for the night - but promised before he left, if there was anything the ragechild and little matriarch needed from him in the future... they would know where to find him.




To Be Continued.

Thank you for reading! You're awesome!

[Shinsou Vaan Osiris]

Let me start by thanking you both for submitting this for a full rubric. It was a pleasure to read and judge it, and I hope the feedback you receive below reflects the work you both put in and is in some way helpful to you.


Plot: 17/30

Story: 6

Yvonne, I was reasonably impressed by your efforts here. Opening the thread, you provide solid (and clever) reasons for Yvonne being in such an inhospitable land as Dheathain; ones that didn’t come across as cliché or generic. The idea of tapping into / exploiting the rare wares market was actually very good and set you an “end game”. Throughout the thread you also dip your toe more than once into the Althanian lore pool which helped to accentuate and boost the credibility of your storytelling; Yvonne’s Kachuck heritage, the contrast between where she came from and where she is and her inherent fear of magic all went down well. Additionally, her development alongside Felicity was well written and the arrival in Donnaliach brought Yvonne right to the forefront of the story, drawing on elements of her past to power home an emotional and proud stand against Zrazire which I fully appreciated and enjoyed.

I do, however, have two minor criticisms. Firstly, I felt that the thread was probably too drawn out for the actual story content, which felt back-loaded (I’ll be touching upon this in pacing), and secondly I felt that you never really addressed, concluded or touched upon the original reasons you gave for being in Dheathain in the first place as the thread went on, which disappointed me as I was looking forward to see how that would develop.

Flamebird, Your opening provided us relatively sensible reasons for Felicity being in Dhethean; firstly, because she loves exploring and secondly to study magic. The contrast between a pairing of a dwarf terrified of magic and Felicity, a keen magic user intent on improving, was excellent and not at all lost on me. That said, and whilst no one can fault the effort you put in here, I do believe that you were a bit of a passenger in the early to mid sections of the thread. Between Felicity meeting Yvonne and them arriving in Donnaliach, there was plenty of action but it was dotted about in the drawn out part of the thread. However, Felicity really shone after the arrival in Donnaliach and her confrontation with Zrazire in his store was probably the highlight, drawing on aspects of her colourful and angry personality to drive home what she is all about.

Much like Yvonne, I felt that you never really addressed the original reasons you gave for being in Dheathain and Felicity’s story in Donnaliach concluded much differently to the suggestion. Setting a marker down at the start of the thread created an expectation that the plot device will be in some way achieved, followed or referred to but sadly the Zrazire incident put paid to any further mention of studying magic (whilst it was a good final third).

Probably most importantly, I didn’t get a sense that this was a plot written by two writers on the same wavelength. When I judge a collaboration, I like to see each writer doing something in each post to either further the plot or the character’s development, giving me a “roadmap” of rising action and story development that I can trace from a thread’s beginning to end. Whilst there were patches of very good combined character development, especially in Zrazire’s store near the end after Felicity loses her shit, I often felt that the majority of individual efforts were better than the collective and I believe this led to a drawn out, somewhat haphazard thread that meandered about due to either a lack of planning or too much improvisation. I felt the thread could have been five or six posts shorter and still have delivered the same product, so that may be something to consider in the long run.


Pacing: 5

Pacing is the real problem here and ultimately it’s the significant element I really struggled with. Between Yvonne and Felicity meeting and arriving in Donnaliach, the thread became bogged down in generic travelling and this left me feeling a little subdued as these posts felt more like filler and didn’t add any nutritional value to the thread. Business only really picked up around post fifteen, which unsurprisingly fell at their arrival at Donnaliach. We are then introduced to Zrazire, and that’s when everything peaked. I loved the back and forth with the three characters and I found myself latching on to every word, with each post giving me more rising action each time, and thankfully Yvonne’s “conclusion box” served to avoid the issue of a drawn out conclusion without rushing things.


Setting: 6

As with most threads, I felt that the early posts’ use and description of Dheathain setting was far stronger than the tail-end of the thread, which for me is a trend I see all too often. I imagine this is because writers tend to sense when they are coming to the end of their piece and, whether intended or not, choose to “cut corners” in order to get the thread concluded. What this does is essentially affect consistency, which is really the key to nailing this element of the rubric and enhancing the overall read. We’ll move onto that shortly.

Early on I felt that the effort you both put in to bringing Dheathain to life was superb. Yvonne, in all of the threads I have seen on Dheathain, I don’t think I’ve been as impressed with a visualisation as I was with yours in those first few posts. You really paint an excellent picture of what the conditions are like in Dheathain's inhospitable climate, and truly add colour with your knowledge of the flora and fauna, as well as those little dips into the lorebook. The actual use of the setting in this early part too was very good, portraying the plant life as aggressive and hostile as Dheathain itself. Flamebird, in those early parts you were also excellent and without rote copying what Yvonne did you managed to show Dheathain's jungle in your own light, from the perspective of an explorer. You managed to use the setting in a way which was both believable and also held a little mysticism about it; being a relatively unexplored region of Althanas, you did well early on to preserve the “mystique” surrounding Dhethean.

After the arrival at Donnaliach, I felt that high level of quality dropped to something a little more subpar. Posts shifted their focus, understandably so, to the emotions and actions of the characters but this came at the cost of the quality of setting. In the last few posts, I couldn’t really visualise Zrazire’s shop, or how the characters were using it or moving about in it. The rigidity of the scene collapsed and I ended up visualising a scene in a place that felt far more generic than it really should have been, and far more basic than I’m sure either of you either intended or would have liked. I am a big believer that setting should be the one constant in any thread, and the kind of quality and effort shown at the beginning would have added far more colour to the back end of the story.



Character: 20/30


Communication: 7/10

When it came to communication, I had very few concerns. Both of you write your characters well, and the way that they communicate generally makes sense. Both Yvonne and Felicity have distinctive quirks and unique speech patterns to give their dialogue some additional flare, drawing on either their age, condition or heritage, and what you did have, for the most part, was solid.

I do have two small pieces of advice that aren’t really game changers for this thread but might help in future, which you can choose to take on board or not. Firstly, I would encourage you to make sure that the tones you set through dialogue stay consistent. There were a couple of instances where I picked up on Felicity switching between normal speech and her lisp, and I apart from early posts I couldn’t distinguish between the lisp being triggered by either stress or the Dheathain conditions or Flamebird just “not doing it” for whatever reason. Sometimes, the lisp was explained, and sometimes not, so a bit more explanation here would have been excellent.

Second, I would encourage you both to check your characters for overly-dramatic dialogue. While this is a fantasy story, and I usually live by the "go big or go home" motto, a few lines in this thread just felt out of place. Flamebird, you are a good writer but I nearly spit out my drink when I read the "I’M A MONSTER!" line in post twenty four. It felt quite cliché, and I'm not sure it would be natural for someone to express their sudden realizations that way.


Action: 6/10

Action was mostly very good, and both of your characters exhibited behaviour that matched their individual quirks You both also did a good job of outlining your characters' weaknesses and limits; good writers know how to weave them into a more believable tale. For example, I loved the way Yvonne displayed her terror of magic in post three, and Felicity showed her explosive temper later in the thread. Those little actions just bring their respective scenes to life. Dealing with Zrazire was probably the highlight of your joint contribution to the thread, with Felicity detonating that rage and Yvonne talking the drakari down being both a superb contrast and believable action for both characters.

Your action score is a bit lower than you might like, however, due to the concerns that I raised in the commentary on pacing. There were a few cases when both of your action felt a bit drawn out, and I had to force myself not to just skip ahead. I believe you are both far better writers than those parts suggest. Try asking a friend to read over your more action-heavy scenes with brevity in mind.


Persona: 7/10

Persona was certainly a strength for you both. I was able to get a good feel for who your characters were, especially with the help of the first couple and last few posts, in which their respective philosophies and personalities are drawn out. The reflections on Yvonne’s past were well done as well, and the portrayal of Felicity as a hybrid Neanderthal human with a short fuse could really be felt throughout and gave me a good grasp of a character I hadn’t really experienced before. As for consistency, which is equally as important, I would say you both did a nice job. There were a few parts that I really enjoyed, such as Yvonne storming off after being in the vicinity of magic, and her not wanting to leave Felicity behind despite the chaos she was causing. In turn, this led to a nice moment at the end where Felicity calms and reflects on Yvonne being the only one who stayed to help her, despite what she is.


Prose:19

Mechanics: 6/10

Though you are both good writers, I found a few more errors in this thread than I would have expected. There were a few run-on sentences, some odd sentence fragmentation (especially in Yvonne’s first post “Only the mild discomforts did she have the time to contemplate, formulate thoughts of protest about” would probably need a semi-colon), and some odd words. in post two. "It was considered part of the Althanas secture of the world" had me scrambling through the dictionary in a confused and dehydrated state, but I couldn’t find it, so I assume this was a typo. “She could of hired a guide to help her through the jungle wilderness” should instead be "have". Even with a thorough read-through, these small elements might be missed. I always recommend actually reading your posts out loud. I find my eyes can often fix mistakes for me, but when I have to actually speak them, they stick out like a sore thumb. Maybe that routine will work for you as well!


Technique: 6/10

I touched upon this in setting but I really liked the techniques you both used to describe Dheathain. There were some very nice metaphors throughout and this is something you both seem to have a knack for. You're also both very skilled at using that internal monologue to your advantage. But, as always, I think you could stand to work in even a bit more. When I find something I especially like, I circle it multiple times in my notes. There were not as many instances of that as I would have expected, but I know that you are both more than capable of giving me a bit more next time. One thing I definitely need to address, though, is Flamebird’s habit of bringing modern day terminology and casual slang into a fantasy setting. “Nuclear blood” and “Fangirl” are the main offenders in this piece, and their use sadly does more to detract from the writing than add to it. If I’m going to be blunt, and I will because you’ve paid a heavy 5 AP for me to be honest with you, I actually think this is the worst offense of the thread.


Clarity: 7/10

I don’t have a massive amount to say for clarity. Apart from having to grind through your respective accents to ensure I understood exactly what was being said, there wasn’t a lot I didn’t understand on the first read through, so I’m scoring you accordingly.


Wildcard: 7/10

I know I had a few criticisms, but please know that I genuinely enjoyed this thread for what it was, and although it was a little long it gave me a great insight into two characters I would not normally be familiar with. Yvonne, you are an excellent writer with a good grasp of what you need to succeed here. Flamebird, you've got both the experience and the ability to take Felicity to places you haven't done before on this site. It was a pleasure judging this for you both! You have both laid groundwork here to build a strong collaborative team in the future and I hope I get to see more of Yvonne and Felicity soon! Perhaps we can write together soon?

Final Score: 63

Congratulations!

Yvonne receives 1275 EXP and 175 GP!


Flamebird receives 1505 EXP and 165 GP, with 5 AP deducted for the judgment!

[Shinsou Vaan Osiris]

All rewards added!