A few chosen travelers have come together to stop a prophecy that will end the world as they know it, and the first step to this journey is by entering the Human Realm hidden in the waters. Some may prevail, while others shall falter, but will they...
CHARACTERS IN THIS EPISODE: Nereus Colton, Human Warlock (Haunted One) Avangard-Miraille, Disembodied Fighter (Soldier) Tiān Fēng, Human Ranger (Outlander) Parvum Nebulonis, Half-Elf Rogue (Outlander)
NPCS: Chief Zaya Elestree, Human Rogue (Noble) Penillea Ditterea, Drow Cleric of Selune (Acolyte)
CHAPTER: THALASSES DE MER (1680 words)
As the sun began to dip below the horizon, casting warm hues over the quiet village, the group arrived in a creaky wooden wagon that bumped along the cobbled path. The place felt frozen in time, with structures made of aged timber and stone, nestled within the thick canopy of Panemorfin Grove. The village appeared sparsely populated, with only a handful of locals visible. Most of the humans there were in their 30s and 40s, their faces marked by hardship and resilience.
Fēng seems to like the old atmosphere, though. He took a deep breath, smiling at the old-world charm the place exuded, the air filled with the scent of pine and damp earth.
Miraille squinted at the worn symbols and inscriptions adorning some of the village gates and temples. It appears that the language of the people here is 'Trelliem.' Her expression shifted into one of recognition.
MIRAILLE: "Ah," she muttered, "they're the worshippers of that lascivious lightning god." She rolled her eyes and smirked a little, a mixture of disdain and amusement.
Just as she finished speaking, a voice rang out.
???: "Lighting god? We do not worship a lighting god."
The group turned abruptly, startled. A woman stood before them, her gaze piercing yet calm, wearing traditional robes adorned with intricate embroidery. She raised her chin, her voice firm as she addressed the party.
???: "Halt! Travelers aren't allowed in Panemorfin Grove."
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The woman was no doubt a human. Her caramel skin somehow looked smooth, no scars or whatever. Only bits and splatters of blood, almost as if she came from a fresh battle. Her figure looked bulky like Akrin's, her hair was brown and tied at the back, as long bangs covered her eyebrows. Her eyes were the color of pastel green, her clothes looked far from comfortable, but defensive. If someone were to encounter her, they'd think she were a barbarian rather than a rogue. Still, one must admit, she is decently pretty for a soldier of any kind. Especially that of a human.
Miraille's eyes narrowed as she studied the woman, recognizing the authority in her stance. The villagers nearby seemed to observe her with a mixture of awe and respect. Nereus however, regarded her with an intensity that suggested he was already calculating his next move.
The woman's expression remained unmoved.
???: "State your business here, travelers." She commanded, her tone both suspicious and unyielding.
Just as Nereus subtly raised a hand, preparing to cast a spell to manipulate her, Fēng shot him a look of surprise. Nereus attempted a puppet spell on the woman, hoping to bend her will. But to his astonishment, it had no effect.
Chief Zaya Elestree, as the villagers referred to her in hushed voices, seemed unfazed, completely unaware of the attempted manipulation.
Miraille leaned in slightly.
MIRAILLE: "And why is that?" She asked in response to Chief Zaya's stern demeanor.
There was a glint of mischief in her eyes, almost as if she were daring the woman to elaborate. Zaya's gaze didn't waver.
ZAYA: "Last time we allowed travelers in, they stole from us. Supplies that we barely had enough of to begin with." She replied. Her tone changed slightly, almost as if a pang of guilt or sorrow had crept into her voice. "We are a humble village with little to offer."
Nereus opened his mouth, ready to beg for shelter as his expression shifted to an almost pleading one. But Fēng stepped in before he could speak, giving a slight bow and addressing Zaya with respect.
FĒNG: Chief," he began, his voice gentle and sincere. "We really need a place to stay. I give you my word, we won't take anything. We're just passing through and need somewhere to rest."
His genuine tone seemed to momentarily soften Zaya's gaze.
Miraille on the other hand, took a different approach. Her eyes narrowed as she leaned closer to Zaya, her voice a low, intimidating murmur.
MIRAILLE: "Let us in," she said coolly. "Or the village might no longer be yours to command."
Her words were laced with an unmistakable threat, causing Fēng to shoot her a disapproving look, his mouth opening slightly in silent protest. Once again, he was speechless at how quick his members were when it comes to confrontation, but in their defense, one is a warlock while the other was a zombie fighter. He had it coming.
Fortunately though, Chief Zaya didn't seem to hear Miraille's thinly veiled threat. She nodded slowly, glancing at Fēng and seeming to decide that his earnestness outweighed any reservations she might have had.
ZAYA: "Very well." She relented. "Follow me."
She turned on her heel, leading them down the winding village path, past crumbling stone walls and small, moss-covered huts, until they reached a modest building near the edge of the bay. As the group followed, they couldn't help but notice how the few villagers present eyed them warily, whispering amongst themselves.
Zaya led them to a healer named Penillea Ditterea, a gentle-looking woman with kind eyes and a soft glow about her, who greeted them with a warm smile.
