#whiterush

[christmas-shenanigans]

Christmas Special 2023: Session 1, Sat 2 Dec

Zorya Fenya receives the following letter:

Were it not for the promise of gold, she would have thrown it in the fire. She replies in the affirmative, and sets off for Whiterush...

She is joined by Halbrecht:

Skabb:

and Valeros:

We head to Andoran, where Mialee and Wee Jock will join us later:

Whiterush is roughly east of Diggen’s Rest. We were captained here by this fine lady aboard the Kereng’ende. Her name is Captain Aziza:

It is cold and snowy when we arrive. The captain points us toward the Verduran Forest:

Where we catch another boat up the river. Winter Solstice is the festival of the god that both Halbrecht and Valeros worship, The Accidental God. The village of Whiterush is preparing for the festival:

We have been hearing talk of friction surrounding the lumber consortium. The fey of the forest and the druids are angry about activity in the forest. As we approach, we hear raised voices of villagers. There is a roar, and a voice says “Calm down, Popcorn.” We approach and see these three individuals:

!!!

We are pointed to the Wicked Weasel pub:

Many of the villagers seem to be gnomes, we realise as we arrive. Valeros asks if it’s illegal to kick gnomes here.

Valeros asks around for our contact, the man who wrote us the letter, but people don’t seem to have heard of him. Zorya starts casting around for unattended coin purses and Skabb for unattended drinks. (Halbrecht has, on the way over, been testing to see the effects of salt water on the development of cheeses.) Skabb chugs the beer she has swiped; we are all impressed when she manages to keep it down.

The barmaid notices Valeros as we enter the pub, and smiles:

She asks where we’ll be sitting and demands to see Valeros’ coin purse before she'll let us order. She asks if Halbrecht is a priest of the Accidental God; he says he is and she gives him a free beer. Valeros is very annoyed by this; Halbrecht winks at him as he swigs his beer.

Valeros swaggers up to the biggest man in the bar and challenges him to an arm wrestle for his table. Strength check - 15 to the other guy’s 6. Yeah! He offers to buy him a beer but refuses to give up the table.

The barmaid points us up the stairs when we say we’re waiting for… Cuthbert Bobblerock? Dilbert… Crumbledinger? Whatever his name is. Valeros asks her if she would be interested in buying some of Halbrecht’s goat’s cheese; she says we would have to ask the kitchen manager. Halbrecht produces a business card and asks her to pass it on. (He gets a Hero Point.)

There’s a strange, herbal smell as we go up the stairs. Skabb recognises it as a type of ragweed; it comes from the first world in the fey. Spellcasters can enchant the pollen and make magical tea from it. She casts Detect Magic - it’s everywhere. She thinks it might be low level spells or magic items, from all over the pub.

At the top of the stairs is a closed door. We knock on it and it swings open - a little voice tells us to come in. Brewing some glowing purple tea is this fella:

We go in and sit down. “Mr Cuddles Ticklestick, we presume?”

He welcomes us in. Zorya wants to know exactly how considerable the recompense will be for this job. He offers us some tea. Zorya asks what it does; he says it makes everything shinier. Valeros accepts some. Everything feels... nicer, when he drinks it.

Our reward will be dependent on our success, he tells us. How familiar are we with the Bleaching? Zorya knows a bit about gnomes, as does Skabb. People talk about gnomes not having been here for as long as the other races. They are from the fey world, and if they are away from it for too long they start to lose their colour and verve, their skittish nature. They become shadows of their former selves, and can eventually die of it. This is known as the Bleaching.

Cuthwulf has been working on a preventative measure; this is where we come in. He is missing a reagent. He mentioned to Skabb in her letter that she might be acting as an ambassador of sorts...? She didn’t read it, she says, Grabby Cat did. She takes Grabby Cat out of her pocket and allows her to join the conversation. Cuthwulf talks to Grabby Cat in strange clicking noises; they seem to have a conversation. She tells him that Skabb wasn’t raised among her own people, is that right, he asks?

Part of the job involves going through a village of goblins, and we will likely need their help, he tells us. He takes a scroll from his pouch and puts it on the table:

Pine Reek (sp?) - that’s the name of the village we are to find. Reaching this place is the first part of the job. We must get an audience with a powerful mage there, and she will give us the next part of the job. Is she a witch, Skabb asks? Cuthbert looks a bit strained. Is she missing a finger, Skabb demands? Cuthwulf hasn’t had the pleasure of meeting her, he says delicately. Skabb is furious.

He takes out a ‘Key’:

The goblins in Pine Reek revere a powerful sorceress; we must get them to grant us an audience with her. We are to trade the key for information from her, about a place called Christmas Town.

Are any of us familiar with the first world? Do we know about arch-fey? Christmas Town is the realm of a particular arch-fey, and we are to retrieve something of his.

Skabb suddenly feels the urgent need to visit a latrine; she has got her bodyweight in beer swishing around inside her. Valeros escorts her downstairs before she can piss on Cumberbatch's carpet.

Cuthwobble explains that what he wants us to steal is a potion of flight; it isn’t about the flying, per se, but about the origin of the thing. With something made in the first world, he might be able to work on a real cure for the Bleaching.

We are missing two, aren’t we? He will send them after us if they turn up. Zorya says we don’t need a second rogue, as we already have “the best thief in the world. And no-one’s ever needed Wee Jock for anything.” (She gets a Hero point.)

Alright then, we agree to his terms. To the bar!

Skabb thinks the snow-hag (the sorceress) might be the one that raised her. The term is a generic one, however, so it might not be. Halbrecht knows, against all odds, that Winter Witches take the place of rulers in the realms of the frozen north, and are usually revered by goblins. They are put in the position of ruler by something called a Baba Yaga…

We get drunk, and then buy provisions for the journey. Skabb roots through the bins for rotten things. Valeros buys this, earning himself TWO hero points:

(Zorya steals a wineskin, and some wine to put in it; Halbrecht buys some wine to bring with him. Zorya: “Boooooooring.”)

We set off into the woods, in the direction we were sent. The lumber consortium has left some of the trees near the village to make it look nice, but we can see they’ve been logging here. Skabb looks around for dead things and rotting corpses. She guts some dead rabbits and birds and keeps the organs; she’s making ‘organ nutella’.

(No further sign of Tarragon, Popcorn or Mr Pickles; it was just a little cameo.)

Halbrecht cooks, Zorya keeps watch, Valeros does pushups and Skabb does… nothing helpful. In the night we hear strange sounds, that don’t sound anything like animals we know. It’s not alarming or nearby, and seems to pose no threat, it’s just… strange.

We pack up our camp the next day and go to leave; Valeros goes to relieve himself and finds some undergrowth. He is slashed across the back of the calf! He turns but can’t see anything, though he hears giggling. He’s upset because that attack might have damaged his fine trousers, and his genetically superior calves have taken a LOT of work.

“Who the fuck did that??” he shouts in goblin, but gets no answer. He shuffles back to camp and warns the rest of us about the outrageous bastards in these woods. Skabb casts Helpful Wood Spirits, and sends them off to investigate but they can’t find anything. “They’re rubbish,” she announces and stamps on them.

Halbrecht, Skabb and Zorya look around; Halbrecht sees blood on the undergrowth. Something was there, but it’s gone now. Skabb thinks it’s fey. We continue packing up the camp site and begin our second day of travel.

The trees start to thin as we go and there are fewer stumps from logging. There are talismans made of stripped branches and vines hanging from the trees every so often. Valeros makes an Occultism check; he’s not sure what they mean but he thinks either protection, or trail markers. Nothing threatening. He takes two, and ties them around his calves. Skabb takes a look at Valeros’ calf (he tenses it as hard as he can) to make sure there’s nothing that is doing him lasting damage. She jabs her finger in there and tastes it, but doesn’t detect any poison.

Zorya looks around; she sees the air shimmer like a gust of wind blowing past her. She looks down to her horror and sees one of her decoy purses has been cut, the contents spilling on the ground. She scoops the coins back up, furious, and takes out her bow. (Skabb is greatly amused.)

In Sylvan, Skabb asks “Oi, troublemakers, what you up to?” She gets no reply.

The rest of the day passes without event as we draw near our target. We find what we think would be a good place to set up camp as the sky darkens. Three strange lights suddenly blink into existence around Zorya, who is very angry about it. We all hear laughter, and then we roll initiative. (Zorya is horrified to find that she has to use Perception instead of Stealth. She checks her other coin purses; to her relief they all seem to be present and intact.)

Skabb is top of the order, but she doesn’t go first. This does, and it stabs Zorya for 6 damage including sneak attack:

It then runs away with its 100 feet of movement. Skabb wants to pull its arms out of its socketses. They do some more attacks which all miss, and it’s Skabb’s turn. She climbs a tree, and then tries to reach out to our attackers, asking them what they want. One replies from right next to her, and asks her if her blood is blue too? She bites her own finger and holds it out. “No. It’s just blood.”

Halbrecht tries to reason with them, in Common, “I like a jape as much as the next man,” but receives no response. He readies a Divine Lance, with good damage prepared.

Zorya moves to try to get away from the lights, but they move with her. She swears a lot, shoots one of the lights (it does nothing) and looks around for the creatures. She’s fairly certain there aren’t any within 30 feet of her.

One appears, and Halbrecht looses his lance (cries of “Geeeet Yooouuur Lance Out for the Lads!!”). It turns to him and in Common, says “Hiya!” Then it stabs him with its short sword.

“Hiya!” he hears again, just behind him. He takes four sneak attack damage in the kidneys. Another appears and stabs him again. One runs up to Valeros, and he gets to use his attack of opportunity and his readied attack! 34 hits for 11 slashing damage. He attacks - 23 would hit, but it does this:

... Fucker.

It runs up to Zorya, stabs at her and misses. “Pretty one no fun!” it says in Sylvan, which she doesn’t understand. Another one runs up Skabb's tree. “Hiya!” She greets it back, and stabs her.

It grins. “Hiya! Your blood’s not blue.”

“Never said it was,” she replies, and casts Electric Arc at it. It makes the save. She casts Clinging Ice, but it misses so she goes again. 30 ought to do it! It uses its reaction but it still hits. She blows a raspberry at it.

Halbrecht abandons subtlety and takes out his war hammer, and sets about “playing whack-a-mole with the little twiggy bastards”. It dodges nimbly out of the way; he’s starting to lose his rag a little bit now. He would give it the finger but he’s only got one hand.

Zorya hits with her first attack and gets sneak attack damage for 6 total, but misses her other two.

Valeros moves to flank one and swings his sword at it - 22 hits for 11 slashing damage. It uses Can’t Catch Me, and Skabb hears it shriek: “Pretty one no fun at all!”

“Why your friends so boring?” another one asks Skabb, as it scuttles up the tree next to her.

“Human blood,” she says and shrugs. It stabs her.

It slithers out of the tree and slides its sword into Halbrecht, about where his kidneys would be. it runs across the snow and up a tree, then drops down behind Zorya. “Hiya!” Another one comes up behind her. It can’t flank her because she has the Deny Advantage feat, ha! Her cloak is slashed which is extremely annoying, but Valeros offers to fix it for her.

A third appears to slash at her face, but misses.

One comes up to Valeros. “Hiya!” 27 hits him, but he uses Reactive Shield. It still hits him though. In Sylvan, Skabb hears “He no try hard enough! He pretty AND bleedy!”

Skabb casts Ray of Frost at the one next to Zorya, rerolls with a Hero Point and misses again. She shouts at the top of her voice, “HIYA!” Little voices respond from all around her. She whips her sling around and hits one for 9 damage total.

(Zorya deletes herself off the board and has to be re-placed.)

Halbrecht, nothing if not a team player, moves to the middle of us and readies his war hammer.

(We all notice that outside the circle of lights around Zorya, the sun has set.)

Zorya recalls knowledge - they are fey, and weak to cold iron. They are susceptible to the slow spell, and hate it. Though they are fey, they can’t see in the dark. She tells Valeros this, in his head with her Ghostwise telepathy. She readies an attack with her bow.

How cold is Valeros’ iron, he wants to know? If he put his sword in the snow would that count? It might drop off, the DM tells him, but it wouldn’t affect the fey creatures. He swishes his hair about heroically and shares the information Zorya gave him with Halbrecht and Skabb.

Zorya sees one come running out of the trees, trailing its sword behind it. “Hiya!” She shoots at it but misses. It stabs her as it runs past.

Another one stabs Skabb. 22 to hit. “Ooooh, tickles!”

Halbrecht looses his readied attack, but it misses. “Hiya!” 19 doesn’t hit him, fortunately. “Bye!”

Valeros natty 20s his opportunity attack! 20 damage! He sprays slightly luminous green blood everywhere. “Hiya,” he says.

Skabb hears, “Owieeeeee!” It stabs him back and runs away.

Skabb is next. There is one in the tree next to her, swinging its feet. She does the same. “Hiya,” she says to it. “What’s the rules?”

“We stabs and we bleeds. Whoever bleeds most and sleeps least, wins.” (If you fall unconscious, you lose unless we all go unconscious. They want a good show, and a lot of blood, basically.)

Skabb tries a Dispel Magic on Zorya’s lights. It works!

Zorya hears, “Sneaky!” but its in Sylvan, so she doesn’t understand. “Well played,” it says to Skabb. “You win.”

She shakes its little hand. “I had fun.” It gives her a little stone acorn. “This means you win. We leave you alone for a while.” She accepts the stone and gives it a slug - it bites the head off and eats it. They take some of the bloodied snow from around Halbrecht, and scamper into the dark. Zorya checks her coin purses again; they are intact.

Halbrecht uses War Medic to heal us. He can cast Heal 3 times, for 3d10 healing each time!

Valeros asks Zorya what her favourite flower is; she is surprised and a bit embarrassed. “Er… I dunno, a daisy.” He embroiders a perfect daisy over the rip in her cloak. She is very touched, but refuses to show it.

[books-of-the-great-leviathan]

Chapter 31- Sirin

***

When Sirin woke it was without the taste of night-drop on her tongue. She hurt, but she counted that as a relief. It was good to feel again.

She opened her eyes. Her surroundings were shadow-dappled, cool, but sunlight filtered down from above- a whitebrick archway, she registered, stone weather-worn, the sun coming down in shafts through cracks in the bricks. Beyond the arch was forest, massive cedar trunks and greenery. She smelled the bittersweet tang of cedar sap, heard birdsong, bright and trilling.

Sirin reached for her wrists. Her fingers encountered nothing save bare skin. Her shackles were gone.

A fire smoldered nearby in a nest of cedar twigs. Someone muttered a curse in Estaran, long and complicated. Sirin turned her head slowly. Alois crouched over the fire, jabbing at it with a stick. He'd abandoned his Lapidaean finery and wore plain shirtsleeves, the light sapsilk stuck to his body with sweat. A pack lay nearby, and a few scattered blankets. Sirin lay on one of these. Wool scratched at her cheek as she shifted.

Alois jumped and whirled, his eyes wide. "Oh," he sputtered. "You're awake."

Sirin lifted her eyebrows.

"Are you hungry?" Alois lifted a pan from the fire. "These are tortoise eggs, apparently. Cereza found a clutch under a log. They don't taste quite right to me, but I don't think they're poisonous."

Sirin nodded. Alois slid the pan toward her, along with a battered knife. Sirin picked at the stuff in the pan, blackened and sizzling.

"You've been sleeping for two days, off and on," Alois said. "Luca's been looking after you, but I think he went to go pee. Or, uh. Something."

Sirin arched her eyebrows again, stuffing some of the half-burnt eggs into her mouth. She sucked at the grease on the fork tines, savoring its richness, her stomach snarling in response. Earth and sky, she was starving.

She glanced up at Alois over the rim of the pan. He gave her a tired smile.

Thank you, she wanted to say, and hoped he in some way understood. She made a circular gesture with the knife, then twitched her shoulders, trying to convey a question.

"Where are we?" Alois clarified.

Sirin nodded.

"Oh. I'm not sure. North of Valeris, heading up through the mountains. Cereza's leading us. She seems to know the way."

Sirin's mind snagged on one word. Valeris, she thought, and it flooded back: whiterush and bellow, lightning-scar and ozone. The wave, glowing from within, unleashed by the Great Leviathan's monstrous power. She remembered the crack of stone, buildings uprooted, swept under and devoured, people devoured with them. She remembered herself, transfixed in the Leviathan's sight. Herself, pulling at the dregs of her power, too weak, too scared.

She'd tasted blood. That was all for a while, all but darkness.

Guilt swept through her, a gutting ache. She could have stopped the monster if only she'd been stronger. She could have ended it.

More and more, Sirin.

She set down the knife, her appetite lost. Alois didn't seem to notice. He poked at the fire, sending up sparks.

"This is useless," he said, and straightened. "Luca, er- he thought you might like a change of clothes-"

He rummaged in the packs and produced a stack of folded garments, which he set down next to Sirin. He paused.

"No one blames you, you know," he said haltingly.

Sirin didn't respond. She set her eyes on a patch of watery sunlight, the ache inside her gnawing  at her bones.

"I'll leave you to it, then," Alois went on, and nodded, and left her, stepping from under the stone arch and into muzzy sunlight.

Sirin picked at the clean clothes. She felt at once filthy, sticky with inground sweat. Under the sounds of breeze and birdsong she made out the tell-tale burble of a nearby stream. She got up slowly, using the wall for support, finding her body piece by piece- knees, then feet. Sirin stood, swaying, her head light. She let herself breathe the sweet air for a moment, then gathered the bundle of clothes and left the archway.

Sunlight dense as honey drenched her, falling in shafts between the trees. Cedars creaked in the wind, behemoth trunks standing like the pillars of some ancient civilization. Their striated deep-red bark released that sweet, woody scent, fanbursts of needles rustling when the breeze shook them. Glimmering clouds of insects rose from the undergrowth as Sirin stepped through waist-high ferns, her feet crunching on needle litter. Drifts of moss grew thickly over rock shelves, and everywhere winked pollen, suspended and tranquil.

Overhead, yellow flashed from bough to bough. Sirin flinched, but there was no threat. Birds. Their songs were liquid, echoing long through the still air. Above towered the structure that had housed her: an aqueduct, now ruined, a system of soaring whitebrick arches rising from the forest floor and winding off into the trees. Their camp was sheltered by one such archway, but the next few were crumbled, blocks of stone sunk into the ferns, growing pelts of moss. Young trees and ferns grew from the upper levels of the aqueduct, making a sort of aerial forest.

Sirin might have stood there forever, breathing the clean air, watching the flicker of birds in the trees, but she made herself move on. She heard the water again, and followed the sound, stepping between a pair of cedars and into a sunlit clearing.

She saw Niive, first: perched on a rock with her knees drawn to her chest, her great wings fanned from her back, their dark iridescence entrancing in the light. They shadowed Cereza below, who had what looked like an oyster knife in hand, lunging and jabbing. As Sirin watched she stumbled in the grass and dropped the knife.

"Triune," she swore, and Niive laughed, not unkindly. Cereza snatched up the knife, and in doing so saw Sirin standing and watching at the clearing's edge.

"Oh," she gasped. "Are you...are you all right?"

Sirin nodded.

"Good. I...I wanted to say..." Cereza fiddled with the knife. "I saw what you tried to do, in Valeris. I'm grateful. I really am."

She sounded so tired, her voice cracking a little at the edges. Her eyes were red. No wonder she'd been crying. She'd seen her city half-drowned. How many were dead? A terrible tally, a terrible price. The innocents always had to pay it.

Not anymore, Sirin. Not if you're brave. Not if you take what is already yours.

Sirin tried to smile. It felt weak, insincere. Cereza gestured toward the far side of the clearing, toward the sound of water. "Luca's over there."

Thank you, Sirin signed, and moved off quickly, not meeting Cereza's gaze. She felt Niive's eyes on her nevertheless, tracking her from under the canopy of her wings.

The forest floor fell into a slope, mossy boulders and spreading ferns, vast cedar roots rising like gateways over Sirin's head as she navigated down. A stream came into view, a twisted little track of water winnowing between boulders. It glistened like mercury where sunlight broke through the canopy and struck it. The aqueduct snaked downslope, too, one archway spanning the creek, cutting a bridge of shadow over the water and turning it dark as peat.

Fish gathered there, moving in lazy circles beneath the surface. Luca stood over them, ankle-deep in the water. He had a sharpened stick in hand, but it was suspended over the water, and he watched the fish circle through the deep moss-shadows.

His shirt hung from a nearby branch, like his own looming ghost. Luca was bare to the waist, sunlight dappling the tense muscles of his back. Sirin let herself stand, let herself watch him. The scars Ziva Lapin had carved into his back gleamed paler than the rest of him. Pollen had settled on his shoulders, dusting his deep-gold skin with a faint glimmer.

Sirin felt her heartbeat far away. It was easy to not be herself here, to feel distant from her body and yet so vitally in it. To feel the pulse of growing things and be a part of them, no longer a piece too jagged to fit.

She knocked on a tree root as she approached. Luca turned, and the fish scattered like scared children, vanishing into the loamy shadows of the creek. Luca's eyes widened, and the relief on his face hurt deep down in her stomach.

"Sirin," he said. He blinked, then went on, "Did Alois give you the tortoise eggs?"

This time, Sirin's smile felt genuine. She set the bundle of clothes on a boulder. Puppy, napping in a nearby patch of sun, yawned, turned over, and kept sleeping.

Yes, Sirin said. And they were burnt, too.

"Well, that could have only improved them." He jabbed the stick down into the moss. "I came here to catch fish, but I'm afraid I became distracted by them instead. Shame. A little lemon and ooshka-fat, and they'd be fit to serve at any state feast in Valeris."

Can you even cook, Valere?

"My talents are many, but nothing is infinite."

He paused, then, his breath hitched, as if he'd thought to say more. He stared at her, not moving. She didn't move, either. The hish of the water echoed away, away, amplified by the forest hush.

Fish, Sirin said.

"Yes. Yes! Remarkable." He stared down into the water. "I've never seen this species before. I wish I had my collecting-jars so I might bring one with me. I suspect they're a variety native to these springs and streams. Triune, these mountains are an endless puzzle-box of wonders."

Oh? Sirin replied. His tone was earnest, his enthusiasm plain. Sirin felt it like a glow on her skin. She might have listened to him forever, stayed in this place forever, amongst strange fish and the wind in the trees.

Luca pointed. "This stream wasn't always here. You saw the aqueduct? Incredible, isn't it? Estara built them a thousand years ago when they held Lapide. Like the roads, like the system of sewers and canals running beneath Valeris. It fed clean water to the whole of their bloody empire. Now look at it. Turning to dust."

But what a beautiful place to die.

He shrugged. "There are worse."

His eyes darkened, and his expression tightened, and Sirin moved toward him, on reflex, her hands lifted, her lips parted. She touched him- fingertips to forearms- and felt that old spike of fear, not of him but that she might hurt him, that she could only touch him to hurt him. But he still breathed, and watched her, and his skin was so warm.

I'm here, she signed against his body.

Her fingers opened, curving around the scarred muscle of his forearms. She traced the rivers of blue veins at the crook of his elbow, the pale lines of scars that etched his torso, the fine trail of hair leading down his stomach.

His abdominal muscles contracted at her touch. Luca let out his breath, a shiver of an exhale. His eyes slid shut, their sockets bruised and pearly, his lashes golden in the light.

"That feels good," he murmured. He leaned his forehead to hers. "You feel good."

Sirin's throat tightened. Luca opened his eyes again, and Sirin signed What I feel is filthy. I need a wash.

"Sirin-" Luca began, his voice soft, but Sirin pulled away from him before he had a chance to go on.

She went to the stream and shucked off her sweaty clothes. Her body underneath was a mottled mess of bruises and burst veins, battered and abraded, as if too fragile to contain the power she'd channeled through it. She stepped into the water- so cold her toes curled- and waded deeper, folding to her shoulders in the gentle current. A handful of silty gravel worked well enough to scrub with. It felt like sloughing off a layer of her skin.

As she washed, she studied the forest around her. The slope continued past the aqueduct, and through a break in the trees she saw the first foothills, blue-green cedars rising to meet the sky. Clear cuts striped it, exposing bare reddish earth- logged bare to build ships, Sirin supposed, for the war. She imagined it through Luca's eyes, with the wonder he had for these wilds, this world he loved so much. Beyond, rendered hazy by distance, a mountain peak glinted in the sunlight, pale as a spike of bleached bone.

Alois said we are going somewhere, she said.

"We are. We're following Cereza. She had a vision, under the Palace."

Sirin listened as he told her about their escape from Isabella, the library, the vault of Aiatar knowledge. The secrets in the dust, the secrets of Queen Valeria. When Luca mentioned a statue of Valeria with shackles round her wrists, Sirin sat up and looked back over her bare shoulder.

"What?" Luca said, cutting off mid-sentence. His eyes flickered over her, then away again, quick as the dart of a bird.

Sirin shook her head. All she could think of was the other vault, full of bones, not books, full of ghosts and whispers. She remembered the silent stone beast caught mid-snarl, the carvings of chained islanders kneeling to winged overlords.

Always, always, cowed by the divine. She'd ever thought of herself as a step distant from humanity, the pulse of whalesong circling through her veins, but hadn't she always felt a stab of unworthiness at the sight of Alkona's ritual ground? She was as human as they, those ancient people, chained at the mercy of greater power.

Valeria had been a witch-thing, too, so the legends said. Armed with terrible power, unearthly magic.

Puppy opened its eyes, gemstone-bright, and blinked at her as if it knew her thoughts, as if it heard the voice in her head. Her voice, the one she might have had if all were different.

All could be different, it whispered. You know that.

Luca yanked his shirt over his head, then leaned back against a cedar, his brow furrowed. "I don't know what we're walking toward. I don't know what we'll find, if anything. But if all I do now is draw the monster as far as I can from Valeris, I'll count that as a victory."

I'm sorry, Sirin signed. For Valeris. For all of it.

"You don't have to be."

Yes, I do.

He looked up. Sirin lifted her hands from the water and let shadow gather around them, let it pulse and shiver and warp, a wound in the world.

She released it, and the forest around her darkened once more, bent light rushing to its proper place.

You remember An Gholam.

"Of course."

That was not my doing. Not entirely. When I reached out to the Leviathan, I...took from it. It was like reaching out and finding my own hand reaching back. You were right. It is the same. Its power. Mine. The same substance, the same source. I stopped before I could take it all, but I still could. It could all be mine, if only I let it in.

She met his gaze. His gray eyes shone. His brow was furrowed.

"It almost killed you," he said.

Yes. But I am more than flesh, Luca. All of us are. You spoke to it, too. Was it your throat that formed the words which passed between you?  

"You can't- you don't want to end yourself, Sirin-"

Not ended. Remade. I could take it, harness it. I could stop it.

And more than that, so much more. A black beach, blood in the waves. To make, to unmake, to build the world anew.

I could stop it, she said again. I could change it.

"At the cost of- of you. It's a destroyer, Sirin, anger and agony. How do you know you wouldn't...become it? That it wouldn't consume you?"

She shoved to her feet. Water sluiced from her, disturbing the stream. And why should I not be consumed, Luca? What am I that is so precious?

Breeze pricked at her naked body, raising gooseflesh. Or maybe it was his eyes, hard and bright and on her. She felt a flash of cold and hot, shivering and strange. His skin still glowed in the sunlight, and held in it all its warmth, too.

He approached, slowly, and Sirin did not move. She felt her blood cycling through her, the wet pulse of it in her ears.

Luca picked up the bundle of clothes and held it out to her.

"You're everything, Sirin," he said quietly, then turned his back to her so she might dress in peace.

[kimsonae]

. ホワイトラッシュ バクシア モイスチャーアップ クリームはソネの幼い頃から悩んでいる しみ・そばかすに特化したスキンケアアイテム✨ . 特に目元や口元のシワなどにも効果的💆🏻‍♀️ 女性ならではの毛穴・頬のたるみにも 着目されている最適なアイテムです✨ . @whiterush_hq #whiterush #保湿 #ハリ肌 #ホワイトラッシュ #バクシア #バクチオール #シワ改善 #レチノール . #kimsonae #sonae #YouTuber #YouTube #korean #korea #tokyo #model #koreanmodel #selca #selfie #김소내 #소내 #셀스타그램 #얼스타그램 #셀카 #한국인 #모델 #한국모델 #한국 #유튜브 https://www.instagram.com/p/CRsx8HRLWn3/?utm_medium=tumblr

[ruuuchan01]

@andshim_official さんのハイドロキノンが5%高濃度配合されたホワイトラッシュHQ美容液を使ってみましたっ‼️ 私は昔からシミができやすい体質で困っていたんだよね😭 そんな時、シミに効くハイドロキノンはとってもオススメで、しかも！！5%も配合されているなんて素敵すぎるっ💓 このハイドロキノンの嬉しいポイント3点✨ ①➡ハイドロキノンの成分は安定性や酸化の面で扱いが難しい成分。そこで安定性ハイドロキノンが開発されました。純ハイドロキノンと安定性ハイドロキノンの差は約3倍も!! 純ハイドロキノンについて何度も研究しながらできたホワイトラッシュHQ美容液は純ハイドロキノン5%配合☆ 純度が高いハイドロキノンがお肌に浸透くすみに負けないお肌へ導きます。 ②➡くすみの無い肌へ 気になるお肌のくすみにピンポイント美容液!!粒子を細かくすることで、お肌への浸透力を高めています。角質層まで届きます！！ ③➡肌に優しい処方 8つのフリー 石油系界面活性剤、アルコール、 香料、鉱油物、旧表示指定成分、シリコン、バラベン、紫外線吸収剤一切入っていませんっ！！ 気になるし、見え1ヶ月間塗り続けたところ薄くなりました∑(((((ﾟдﾟ；ﾉﾉ💓これは凄い✨ もうハイドロキノンが手放せません🎵 シミが気になる方は是非使ってみて下さいっ💇✨🎀 #ホワイトラッシュ #ハイドロキノン美容液 #whiterush #ハイドロキノン #美白 #シミ #くすみ #HQ美容液 #乾燥 #高濃度 #monipla #andshim_fan#商品PR#PR#商品pr#pr#フォロバ100#相互フォロー https://www.instagram.com/p/CH7RZ7FjH89/?igshid=gayb8g8571bo

[picosaya]

❄️ . アンドシーム ホワイトラッシュ美白化粧水 シミくすみ対策、毛穴引き締め、保湿効果💮 ポンプ式なのがいい❣️ . . #ホワイトラッシュ #美白化粧水 #whiterush #美白 #スキンケア #シミ #くすみ #毛穴 #乾燥 #ニキビ #透明感 #高浸透 #monipla #andshim_fan #pr #アンバサダー https://www.instagram.com/p/B8nMHcWAQKe/?igshid=1rd8zydda4y83

[yukalyn]

超～簡単にシミケアができる美容クリーム✨ #ホワイトラッシュ @whiterush_hq シミに届く美容成分、ハイドロキノンを5％配合！ さらにお肌を活性化させる成分のリンゴ幹細胞エキス、保湿成分のα―アルブチン・ビタミンC誘導体も配合！ なので、肌のたるみを引き締めハリを与えてくれる＆潤い＆年齢肌のトラブルケア＆美白の効果もありです👍 ベタつきがなく枕やお布団にひっつくこともないので、寝ている間はノンストレス♪ 紫外線によるダメージケアにオススメです☆彡 #skincare #beauty #HQクリーム #WhiteRush #美容クリーム #紫外線のダメージケア #塗って #寝るだけ #ハイドロキノン #リンゴ幹細胞 #自宅で簡単 #セルフケア #高保湿 #monipla #andshim_fan #シミケア #年齢肌のトラブルケア #美白ケア #肌ダメージ #スキンケア #美容 #美肌 #instaskincare #instabeauty #instagood #instalife #instajapan

[feretstudios]

Inking for myself with Shadow and Whiterush. I haven't done anything with them for a while but I still love them. If you think I didn't make a mess splattering all the background around, you'd be wrong! ;) Art (C) FeretStudios

[lionheaded]

#whiterush . On thelionheaded.com . Shades: @mosleytribes Jacket: @dieselblackgold #dieselblackgold T-shirt: @organicbasics #organicbasics (at Falkensteiner Schlosshotel Velden am Wörthersee)

[artofianblackburn]

My wife, @nicolecorely‘s female dwarf druid: Falthra, of Clan Durthane!

Born in High Kuldarth to Reirak and Helgret, Falthra had few friends growing up and was often thought to be strange or different by the other children. 

She was a young dwarf when the Blackened Stone War began. High Kuldarth was relatively isolated from the rest of Eusenia and had little support or communication with the outside world. The undead swarmed into their mountain halls and within a few months, the great Dwarven city had fallen. 

As her people fled through their mountain halls she witnessed an act that would shape her for years to come. A lone dwarven woman, Vonana of Clan Thrahak, stood against the tide of undead, and under the great stone ceiling of High Kuldarth made her final stand. It was as if all of the world had held its breath as Vonana drew hers, and in the din of battle, her voice rose to consume all. It was a song to stir the very bones of the earth, and as the crescendo grew, the rock around her flowed like water, and the undead knew fear. She was as a great rock in stormy seas. None could sway her as the battle crashed around her, and as her song echoed through the halls of High Kuldarth earth crashed like waves upon the corpses of her enemy, and great chasms opened to consume those who would harm her people. 

It was as the tide of rock and dirt swelled around Vonana that Falthra's sight was blocked, as she and her people fled with the time the druid had bought them. 

A broken and beleaguered people emerged from beneath the mountains to greet a bright sun. In a train that stretched miles, the remaining dwarves of High Kuldarth fled their home.

A year into the war and the dwarves of High Kuldarth had reestablished themselves in the foothills of the Westback Mountains, along the river Whiterush in a town they built that came to be known as New Kuldor. 

The undead never came for Falthra and her people again, but as the call for priests and warriors spread throughout the land, her father Reirak rose to answer the call. He came back with a body broken by war, but with a spirit as bright as ever.

Seeing in her father the fierce satisfaction of a purpose fulfilled, Falthra devoted herself to finding a similar drive. It led her to wander far and wide from their new home and to her discovery of the Severed Circle, a sect of druids that Vonana once belonged to. The Severed Circle preached understanding and healing and spoke in hushed whispers of imbalances and past wrongdoings. They taught Falthra much about the druidic crafts, as well as about Vonana and the life she led outside of High Kuldarth.

But Falthra's streak of independence ran deep, and she spent most of her time abroad, wandering through forests and hills, getting to know the animals and plants of the wild. 

It was on one such trek that she was changed forever. In a grove far from home, she was visited by a man stooped by age, and as she reached out to hold his hand and offer him healing and succor, he grew before her eyes. "You search for meaning. You seek justice. You will be forever marked by the sins of the past, and all will know that fiery retribution, righteous and swift, will follow in your wake."  The being before Falthra, bright and terrible, gripped her hand and a boiling heat spread throughout her body, blinding her with pain and rage as she saw before her all of the death, the suffering visited upon her people, the crumbling stone of their home under the mountain, and the sacrifices her father made to keep them safe.  

Falthra returned to her town forever changed. Along with a fierce conviction to protect and avenge her people, she was marked by hair turned startlingly red and orange by her touch with the celestial. As the months went by she set herself apart as a champion of her people, defending them from the wild and bandits, and leading her generation in hunting, fishing, and other expeditions to develop their new home, but always she longed to reclaim High Kuldarth.

[shoesnewons]

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[whiterush-blog]

[levitatee]

Tagged game

Rule 1 - Post the rules Rule 2 - Answer the questions the tagger sent you in their post and make 11 new ones. Rule 3 - Tag 11 people and link them to your post. Rule 4 - Let them know you’ve tagged them

Does someone inspire your life,if yes, who?

My grandmother. She's 70 years old. Always joyful and positive. She's an amazing woman. 

Do you prefer dogs or cats, and why if any?

I prefer both.

Favorite book or movie?

There is this one book that I really enjoyed and could never forget, but I can't translate the title in english, it wouldn't make any sense. My favorite movie is probably A Walk To Remember.

Places you'd like to visit as a tourist?

Definitely London. Also Australia and Bhutan.

Favorite drink if any, doesn't matter which one?

Water. But if we're talking about coctails then it's mohito or vodka with orange juice. But I don't drink a lot.

Favorite fruit?

Mango and pineapple.

Your opinion on abortion if you are willing to state it publicly or have any?

I don't support it. For me the only exception would be if the mothers life was in serious danger. Other than that i'm against it. Every child has a right to live.

Your ideal man?

Someone who would be willing to break down these walls i've built. Someone nice, down to earth. Someone who I could feel comfortable around. Someone who could accept me the way I am.

Last song you hear/were listening to?

I'm not sure. I guess I heard Conor Maynards Can't Say No on the radio somewhere.

Sexiest man alive is ...

Chace Crawford!

Favorite childhood memory?

There are so many of them. But the one that comes to mind is this - When I was in first grade (7 years old) everyday when I got back from school I made sandwiches with cheese and ketchup over them and listened to Winnie The Pooh on audio cassete.

My questions:

What is your biggest fear?

Do you believe in love at first sight?

If you could offer a newborn child only one piece of advice, what would it be?

What’s something you know you do differently than most people?

What are you most grateful for?

What is the one thing you’d most like to change about the world?

Your idea of a perfect date.

If you had 3 wishes, what would you wish for?

Do you believe in karma?

What languages do you speak?

Your dream car?

I tag: r0nnye, lovelinesss, brow-n, sadsmileandgo, midnightsblue, 10thjuly, un-graceful, eoxenbridge, kissofsapphire, lovelyandadorable, eagermind