#⌛ troupe 1: welcome to our queendom

[aegeanxcalla]

where?: tower of olympia library when?: sometime between the iskaran arrival and neptunalia who?: open to all

Calla may not have been an instructor at the Tower, but when her senior Scholars call on her mind to help guide the next generation of witches, she always answers the call. Teaching or holding demonstrations for the Novices was always fulfilling, and even though Calla's ability to cast was far beyond anything they could hope to achieve, their applause after seeing her weave a mini cloudburst before their very eyes was enough to make her bashful. "Please, that was hardly anything to write home about. Honestly, on my own, I'm nothing special..." But saying so out loud sparked a new idea for her. The girl with mist swirling at her feet hurried to the library's threshold, sensing the perfect addition to her small seminar. "I knew it, you're the perfect one to help," she says wistfully, her eyes visibly lighting up as her fingers interlock. "Would you be willing to help with this demonstration? I know the Novices would appreciate the knowledge we can provide them together."

[fharzai]

who?: @prcspero where?: in his dreams uwu, wonder if we'll catch a whiff of some giant berserker taint when?: before neptunalia

Unable to hold back the tears welling in his eyes, Fharzai stood at the precipice of a dark world where only nightmares resided. As soon as he slipped into his dreams for the night a path opened up before him, he just didn't know it would lead him here, a storm of abyssal malcontent. Fharzai had never met a druid of his circle himself so he had to wonder when this fellow protector of the Veil had either. When was the last time he had a peaceful night's sleep? Speculating was almost too much to bear, so Fharzai placed his hand against the nightmarescape and forced his way in. Warmth, light, blissful nothingness was about all he could sustain. He could feel the nightmare actively trying to squeeze him out so it could resume bombarding the other druid with dark visions. A space for them to float in the absence of the nightmares that would do him harm. "Hello, traveler," he begins, his gray eyes looking undoubtedly sad when he sees Prospero. "Forgive me if I'm unwelcome here. I promise I'm not here to pry. But I couldn't live with myself if I turned my eyes away from your nightmare. Even if it's just one night, you of all people deserve a peaceful sleep."

[aegeanxcalla]

where?: tiber bay when?: stretch of time between the iskaran's arrival and neptunalia who?: open to all

Amidst the hustle and bustle of Tiber Bay was an elderly woman shaking a cup to any passerby. The few coins held within jangled as her decrepit hand shook it desperately. "Spare some coin? Anything please, I haven't eaten in days..." She coughs, obviously ill, but even though flecks of mucus are visibly flying out her mouth, the entire display is a farce. One meant to be discovered too. Aegean's weave was intentionally weak, detectable, and far below his capabilities. Any guild member or thread weaver worth their salt would be able to see through the deception since this mask was meant to fail. The old lady grins before the illusory mask begins to unravel around the thief, revealing his true visage. "Wow, there was no chance of me fooling you, huh?" he lies, scooping the coins out of the cup with a grin. "And here I thought I'd be able to get enough for a new pair of shoes before high noon."

[fharzai]

who?: @alessiathepath where?: dream realm, uh oh alessia is having some weird dreams too now when?: before neptunalia

He'd delivered to Alessia the same dream for nights now: a large oak tree growing from the ground with a split in its trunk halfway up, but the two portions continued to spiral and reach for the sky even after being made to grow on their own. The trunk may have split, but the roots and branches still reached out to one another, the tree tops bending to form a circle around the perch where Fharzai's visage in the scape resided. Two ravens, each posing the same question to the young witch. "What do you see?" Each night the dream unravels before he can hear her answer, yet he returns again and again, hoping she's ready to confront the message hidden within the dream he weaved. Tonight he decides to alter the scape, taking flight as a pair of ravens after asking the same question. They fly overhead, dance around each other, and soar to the sky beyond the sun before swooping back down to roost on her shoulders. Wood creaks as the mighty split oak stretches even further into the sky than the ravens did. "What do you see?" they ask in tandem, pointing their beaks up toward the high-reaching tree.