The chamber is tense when Aldin enters. He doesn’t pause for effect today. His usual calm demeanor is replaced by a charged energy, ready to cut through distractions and nonsense alike. Something about the way his hand tightens briefly into a fist suggests something else entirely. a deeper frustration that he doesn’t bother to address... He speaks quickly, the words rolling out like thunder.

"Transmutation,the Path of Change, isn't a game. It’s not some flashy tool for showing off or pulling cheap tricks. No, it's a craft that demands your patience, your focus, and a respect for the world as it is. And believe me, some of you will think you can rush through this, like the physical laws of reality will just step aside because you decided to be clever. They won't. They’ll laugh in your face as your masterpiece collapses into mud."

He gestures sharply, summoning a block of iron that seems to quiver as it liquefies under his command. Without missing a beat, the molten material flows upward, shaping itself into an elegant Helix. The edges shimmer with intricate patterns, but Aldin doesn’t look satisfied—his tone sharpens further.

"You think transmutation is about control? Fine. Control the iron to change its shape, to alter its properties, to make it unrecognizable. lead into gold, stone into flesh, water into vapor. Simple, right? But that's just scratching the surface, and anyone can if they think hard enough. If that’s all you care about, you’ve missed the point entirely."

The helix dissolves, scattering into droplets that float midair before coalescing into a sphere... Aldin’s fingers twitch slightly, and the sphere fractures apart into crystalline shards, spinning dangerously about the room.

"Transmutation is not static. It’s alive—it’s movement. it’s understanding that everything, even reality itself, exists in a state of perpetual change. You’re not forcing change—you’re guiding it, persuading it to show you its potential, its hidden possibilities. You’re playing with the very building blocks of existence, and if you don’t respect that, it will blow up in your face. And don’t think I’m exaggerating... I’m not cleaning up anyone’s mess..."

He exhales sharply, steadying his voice, though his irritation remains just beneath the surface.

"Let me put it plainly. Transmutation isn’t about flashy transformations. It’s about balance. It’s about seeing the structure, seeing the possibilities, seeing past what’s in front of you and finding what lies beneath it. Turning a wall into a bridge isn’t just about practicality... it’s about understanding what makes a wall a wall and a bridge a bridge. You’re not just reshaping objects, you’re reshaping the rules that define them."

"And then there’s polymorphing, probably the most misunderstood practice on this Path. You want to turn yourself into a bird? Go ahead. But do you know what happens to your bones when you do that? Or your lungs? Or your mind, for that matter? Do you understand the delicate balance required to keep yourself alive in a form you were never meant to have? Because if you don’t, and mark my words... you will learn the hard way."

He steps forward, his voice dropping to a sharp edge.

"This Path requires creativity, but also discipline. Sloppy work will leave you with creations that crumble at the worst possible moment. Overreach, and you’ll destabilize not just your spell, but the essence of what you’re trying to change. I shouldn’t even have to tell you this, but apparently some of you need to hear it."

"But let me say this. When you get it right, when you truly understand the flow and rhythm of Transmutation, it becomes beautiful. The world isn’t static. It’s waiting for you to shape it. A barren field can be fertile soil. A crumbling ruin can be a home again. Transmutation, when done with care and wisdom, isn’t just about changing the world. It’s about leaving it better than you found it."

Aldin’s voice softens slightly, but the flicker of tension in his eyes never fades.

"But this Path isn’t for the careless, If you take shortcuts, if you ignore the balance, if you forget the respect this magic deserves, you won’t just fail; you’ll destroy yourself and maybe everyone around you. This isn’t negotiable, and I don’t care how clever you think you are."

He takes a deep breath, releasing some of the frustration that has been building throughout the lecture.

"So, my students, walk this Path carefully. Respect it. Understand it. And if you can do that, if you can truly embrace the beauty of change and the responsibility it carries," he sighs "then perhaps you’ll find yourselves capable of transforming not just the world, but yourselves."

Aldin steps back, letting his words settle over the room. He doesn’t wait for acknowledgment before leaving. There is to much left to be done...

“Do you remember that story I told you about the flag? How did it end? Year after year, the flag adorned the walls of the Kraken’s Maw, until exactly as its story had begun, a little lady of the lost claimed it as her own. Well, tonight I’ll tell you about that little lady and how she came to her new home.”

“Elisa was no ordinary little girl. Growing up on the streets of Bilgewater, she had learned to survive on whatever she could get her hands on. A dropped apple from a vendor’s cart, a fish already picked over by a seagull and the baker’s occasional charity were all good meals to her. By far the best meals, though, were the ones shared with the bartender at the Kraken’s Maw. Xiphias was often lonely when his wife was at sea and took great solace in Elisa’s company, treating her as a daughter and giving her a bed in the guest rooms whenever the inn wasn’t fully booked. At night, after all the patrons had stumbled home or wandered upstairs to bed, they’d sit at a table beside the fireplace and exchange stories. Xiphias would share tales from his homeland and Elisa would respond with all the little oddities she had noticed in the town that day. She was a collector of stories, you see, watching those around her and spinning together stories to tell the other children at the market. The sad girl in the red dress? Her wedding was called off after she discovered her fiancée had stolen a ship and was running from pirates that wanted it back. Now she would take her place as the pirate queen in revenge for her lover’s disloyalty. The slyly smiling fishmonger had just made a deal with a roving god at sea. He would have to be careful, lest he be caught in the god’s tricks and traps, the tea-loving gossip with flowers in her hair was secretly a witch hiding her power from the temple. The children around her listened with rapt curiosity as she roamed the worlds in her mind, seeking sea dragons and soaring with the winds. Though she led a difficult life, it was a good one.”

The firelight was beginning to dim as the night stole through the streets, whispering the world to sleep with a soft breeze. Meanwhile, in the warmth of the kitchen, Xiphias and Elisa shared stories across the table, the scent of spices carrying them to the distant lands they described. Xiphias glanced out of the window at the silver web of constellations that spanned the sky. There was, perhaps, time for one last story before the fire died.

“When I was travelling, before I washed up here, there was one constant wherever I stopped. Whenever we wondered where we would find our next story, we looked to the night sky and it always had a tale to tell. Do you want to hear one?”

Elisa nodded and Xiphias gently led her to the window.

“Look up at the night sky. Do you see all the stars? Well, each star is part of a constellation, and each constellation has a story to tell. Look up there, where the three stars make a belt. That’s Orion, a mighty hunter who races through the night sky protecting us from monsters. And that one there, the zigzag? That’s Cassiopeia, a queen from a distant land.”

Seeing Elisa’s quizzical look, he laughed.

“I know, they don’t look much like people. You have to imagine it a little. Point to a constellation and I’ll tell you its story.”

Elisa’s finger wavered against the glass before settling on a constellation.

“What’s that one?”

Xiphias smiled.

“Cygnus, the swan. A good choice for little girls who want to stay up past their bedtime. Cygnus has many stories, and nobody can agree on which to tell. Orpheus tried to save the woman he loved from the land of the dead. When he died he was transformed into a swan. The son of the sun god tried to ride his chariot into the sky and he, too, became a swan. Cassiopeia had a pet swan that flew into the sky to join her. There are many other tales. But those stories are old and hail from lands far across the sea. I think it’s time Bilgewater had its own version. Get comfortable and let me tell you the story of Princess Elisa and the swans.”

The stars sparkled in Elisa’s eager eyes as she settled into a seat, leaning forward in anticipation.

“Once upon a time, for that is how all the best stories start, there was a princess from a distant land. She was as beautiful as she was wise and as wise as she was kind and her name was Elisa. Elisa liked to run through the forests and play games with her best friend, Robert. At night she would sit by the lakeside with a flock of swans and tell stories about them to make Robert laugh. Together they went on adventures in their imaginations, saving kingdoms and soaring with the dragons. Elisa, Robert and the ten swans were inseparable, always playing in the forests or swimming in the lake, climbing trees and diving for the shiniest stones.”

“The kingdom’s royal advisors saw this and were angry. That wasn’t how a princess should behave! She had to set a good example and earn the respect of the neighbouring kingdoms. Together, they devised a plot to make Princess Elisa listen to their rules. They would have to separate her from the bad influences she called friends. On a moonless night, they gathered the foulest ingredients from across the kingdom and met in secret with a witch to concoct a curse. The palace was having a great feast that night and Elisa had snuck out with food from the feast to have a picnic by the lake with her best friend. Together they sat and shared stories while the swans crowded around them and tried to steal as much bread as they could.”

“When Robert had finished his soup, he suddenly felt strange. He rushed home and looked in the mirror only to watch in horror as he sprouted white feathers and slowly became a swan. He tried to run back to the palace to warn Elisa, but it was too late, the curse had already done its job. His arms had turned to wings and the only sound that escaped his bright orange beak was a quiet hiss. The guards simply shooed him away and he was left to join the swans at the lake.”

“When Elisa came to visit Robert, she found him missing. Searching his room, all she could find was a single white feather on the floor. She ordered a search of the kingdom but nobody, not even the bravest knights or the best rangers could find him. Nobody noticed that another white swan had appeared at the lakeside.”

Elisa’s eyes were wide as she interrupted.

“Will this be a sad story? You know I don’t like sad stories.”

“Patience, Elisa. Everything will turn out well in the end. Now, where was I? Another swan had arrived at the lake, hadn’t it.”

“Despite the best efforts of the advisors, Elisa continued to run through the forests and spend her nights by the lake with the swans but as time wore on, she grew lonely. She missed her best friend and with only the swans to confide in, she spent more and more time at the lake, strangely comforted by the new swan that had joined them. At last the advisors had another idea. They unleashed angry dogs on the castle grounds that bit at every bird that passed by and scared the swans away. The flock flew to safer lands and Elisa was left alone. With her friends gone and nobody left to play with, Elisa no longer ran through the trees and swam in the lake. She became a good princess and followed every rule to the letter, never daring to stray from the path she was told to follow.”

“One conspirator felt guilty though. He wrote a note that explained what they had done and told Elisa about a spell to rescue Robert. Every day, Elisa would have to play the part of the good princess so the advisors never suspected a thing and every night she would gather nettles from the forest and weave them into shirts. Though the nettles stung her hands and she grew tired from staying up late to create her spells, Elisa never gave up. A year later, she had nearly finished weaving her tenth spell when the priests found out.”

“I thought you said it would end happily?”

Xiphias chuckled.

“Patience, Elisa. Or would you rather go to sleep now?”

“That’s what I thought. Now the advisors were, of course, unhappy at the revelation. They showed the priests the spells and the temple declared Elisa to be a witch. She was to stand trial three days later and be imprisoned in the meantime. Alone in prison, awaiting her trial, Elisa wept. But she was a brave princess and through her tears she continued to weave the tenth spell. Alas, she ran out of nettles before it was complete. Exhausted and alone, she lay on the floor and fell asleep. As the moonlight pierced through the bars, a swan appeared with nettles in its beak. While Elisa slept, it gathered more, gently allowing them to fall to the ground. When the guards saw her sleeping peacefully surrounded by nettles, they were afraid. Perhaps she truly was the witch they feared. None dared approach Elisa’s cell as she wove the tenth spell.”

“At last, the day of her trial arrived. Princess Elisa was dragged out before a crowd and chained to a podium to give her testimony. The people cried out against the priests and even the statues in the square shook their heads in disapproval but the temple remained steadfast as the trial continued. As they were about to give the verdict, the crowd fell silent. The sound of wingbeats filled the air and eleven white swans descended upon the podium. One by one, Elisa threw the spells towards them and one by one the swans did not change. By the time she reached the ninth swan, she was giving up hope but at last the feathers receded and Robert’s kind eyes met hers. The crowd were amazed. Proof of the advisors’ evils had landed right before them. Robert ran forwards and wrapped the final spell around Elisa’s chains and they turned to flowers and fell away from her wrists, freeing her to flee the square with her swans and her friend.”

“The people revolted against the priests and the advisors that day and at last they were driven from the land. Elisa was crowned the next week and her first act as queen was to appoint Robert as her crown guard for his bravery. When he eventually died, the advisors’ spell took hold again and he flew off into the starry sky as a swan and that swan in the stars is what remains of his memories. As for the other swans, they lived out the rest of their days happily by the lake and even as queen, Elisa always made time to visit them and feed them the finest grains from the kingdom’s stores.”

“And this little Elisa? It’s time for her to go to bed. Perhaps tomorrow I can tell you about another constellation.”

The flickering candlelight faded into the night as Xiphias’s footsteps echoed up the stairs. Alone in the darkness, Elisa got up from her bed, padded softly to the window and parted the curtains. The stars shone silently, gentle echoes of the past whose glimmering forms traced a map across the sky. Nose pressed against the windowpane, Elisa tried to follow their pulsating paths to the stories she’d been shown earlier but she only lost herself in the space between the connections. They were like Rosaline’s charts, she thought. There was magic to the distant shores but the true wonder lay in the strange expanse between them.

“When we fade away, as all things must, will we swim off into the stars? Will we find ourselves swept away on the tides that chart our paths between those shining shores? What stories will the little creatures of the lands we leave behind tell when they see us up there, outlined in starlight? When we become the stories told about us, I hope they tell good ones. I hope that by then the sky is so littered with stars and stories that there are no more dark patches in the sky and we can roam unnoticed through the space between the legends. For now, though, it’s time to decide what stories will be shared. Come, swim with me. Together we’ll tell the story again and again until we can fix this twisted tale you’ve told.”

That night, the sea shone with algae as glowing figures danced across the waves, propelled by hidden currents. Tale after tale was splashed across the sand until every ship in the harbour glowed with an ethereal bioluminescence and even the stars grew envious of the sea’s newfound light. High on the cliffs, the acolytes in the temple fell to their knees in joy- a sign from the gods! They were saved!

They never noticed the fog stealing higher above the cliffs.

They never saw the shroud over Bilgewater thicken. They looked away when the darkness deepened until not even sunlight could cut through the fog. They never watched the world below them. They simply joined their voices in premature praise, their beliefs solidified while the seas below them played and sang under the stars, oblivious to the chaos they caused.

Deep in the city where the stars used to shine, Elisa snapped awake from a nightmare.

/uw I’m still rather uncertain about this one and honestly I’m not happy with the fairytale but I’ve been off for nearly a month so I had to put something out eventually. In fairness, the fairytale Elisa is named for (elements of which are in here) is much darker but please don’t judge it too harshly.

I've been having trouble recently advancing the story of my current wizardposting character. It was fun when I started, but my unwilling hiatus a bit ago flat out halted all development, and since then I haven't really been able to build any momentum or engagement. Anyway, I've decided to say "fuck it," and see what other people think. Not to spoil, because I have nothing written, the plan is to have the Dungeon Core undergo an Evolution of sorts. As for what, well, I've provided some of the options I find most interesting, and allowed you, the community, to have your way with it. Have fun. Let's see what comes of this. The options are all similar, but they do have their differences which will be explored if chosen.

So I was crossing the Fungus Lands, the place with tree sized fungus and mushrooms, so anyways as I was getting to the place where the Fungus Lands ends and out of nowhere I hear a LOUD scream, then a younger Mage in blue robes (seemingly from the All-Purpose Magick College from the nearby Steeep Mountains) falls right in front of me. As I take a look, obviously he's dead. But then I notice a Magick scroll. As I read it, I soon realize... its a scroll for Large Jumping! I obviously didn't want to test it myself and instead decided to keep it, and I also reported his corpse to the local Guardsmen. I told the College about this and they told me I can keep the Scroll, but they first copied it because its apparently a project the late Mage was working on.

Very weird, anyways if anyone wants to try this meet me anytime in the Library of the Herablist Magicka College, Im there on business for some time.

Fear is a both a useful emotion and a nuisance depending on how it manifests. For Alaric it was the latter, mainly due to Fear manifesting as an annoying prick he couldn't get rid of. On the small list of things he still hated, Fear ranked at the bottom of that list, right after isolation. As for why Fear decided to come back to haunt him after he killed it so long ago, he knew why, and the reason was just above isolation. He was beginning to care about people again. He didn't want to, he really didn't want to. How terrible a thing it is to care about those who you'll have to bury one day. But he didn't have a choice, manipulation of the mind is something he would never do.

While he sat on a rock trying to turn of his hearing, Fear sang Baby Shark at ridiculously high volume. He succeeded but it didn't do anything. Fear was inside his head, he couldn't silence it. He'd heard it stated a hundred times that the only way to defeat dear was to confront it. But he tried that, it didn't really do anything. Fear was a persistent bastard.

"Why won't you just fuck off!?"

He didn't need to, but he turned his hearing back on.

Only one way to deal with meeee! And you haven't tried it yet.

Fear was currently hanging from a tree like a spider at the end of a web.

"How!? How do I get you to leave me alone!?"

You know. You done it before. But that was oh so long ago you've forgotten.

"Great. You're useless as per usual."

You keep telling yourself that.

While Fear started throwing pebbles and twigs at him, Alaric begun meditating. With a memory as long as his, you need to focus for a moment, it was like searching through a vast library for a specific page in a book that may or may not be there. For nine hours he sat there, devoting half his attention to finding the answer he needed. The other half to staying on the rock. But eventually he found part of it. He had an idea of what to do. Fear had stopped throwing things at him.

He stood up, and floated over to the horrifying creature nearby. Fear looked down at him with it's horrible nineteen eyes, it smiled with it's disgusting crooked teeth. Then he did something he didn't want to do. He hugged the disgusting thing. Fear looked on in confusion, it was around four times his height, what was this ancient imbecile doing?

"There. I embraced you, now go away."

Wow. Took a while but you're starting to go senile old man.

"Oh come on!"

He let go and flew backwards four metres and upwards one metre.

"What do I need to do!?"

Spoilers.

"..."

"Oh."

With that, he accelerated himself a third of the way to the moon. He didn't need to, but it did make finding Freetown a lot easier. Physically it was almost impossible to see, mentally he didn't even need to look. It was the only place he had followers afterall. He spotted it, and flew down. He found Kriiddorah unsurprisingly visibly larger than last time, sporting smoother and stronger looking scales. He descended, shouting the let the fourteen metre long dragon know he was there.

"Hey."

'Hey? You disappear for a week and all you have to say is hey?'

"Yeah, sorry about that. Look, I've been around for a really long time, usually when I care about someone I end up having to bury them, after a while I stopped caring because it would just lead to pain. I left because I started caring about you, and I didn't, don't want to see you die. But that doesn't mean I shouldn't care about about my son."

'Wow uh... Thanks? Honestly I'm not sure what to say.'

"How about we don't say anything."

For an instant he becomes a blur, the next moment he's holding a ball.

"We were playing catch no? How about we do more of that?"

Kriid stood there for a moment, then his scales turned purple, and he shrank into a human form, almost perfect. The eyes were still slits.

'This time, don't throw it at the horizon.'

This time he didn't. There were no fancy tricks, no difficult to catch throws, in that moment there was no god of freedom, no divine dragon, just a father and a son playing catch. Within the trees just under a dozen metres away, Fear silently de-materialized, let the two enjoy the present.

The land of the kitsune would've been quiet and calm as it always has been since the battles had been put end to 4000 years ago, by Kitsune called Ginrei. The land would've been fertile and prosperous since the battles had ended, river's flew in relaxing pace as there were gentle breezes of wind every now and then.

There were kitsunes walking with their everyday lives in bustling streets of the city by the head temple of divine messangers, divine messanger trainees sstudying in diffrent rooms as some looked at the offerings that were in the offerings room with hungry glances, before their respective masters came to pick them up to teach them..

Kohaku had been learning from Oka, her master for sometime now, its been only little in their eyes, but to a mortal one, 100 years had already passed since Oka had taken Kohaku under her wing from the shrine in the north, and displayed her pupil to Lady Ginrei..

Kohaku studied hard and with dedication to become divine messanger, she did all kinds of tasks with Oka's and Lady Ginrei's strict and serious watchful eye over her apprentice's apprentice, such young kit, but her fur, white and her golden eyes, she should've been found within land of the kitsunes, but yet her apprentice Oka, discovered Kohaku from a shrine in the mortal realm.. Ginrei found it difficult to believe that a white kitsune, which usually were typically noble.

Lady Ginrei would've watched over Kohaku as the young kit performed chores she had placed upon her, watching the small body move around, carrying freshly washed kimono in her hands as she watched her pass by, Lady Ginrei gave Kohaku a gentle smile.

''You're doing admirably, Kohaku. I am proud of you.''

Kohaku would've stopped in her tracks and turned around to look up to Lady Ginrei as her eyes glew with interest and want to learn.

''Thank you, Lady Ginrei.''

Lady Ginrei smiled gently.

''Tell me, why do you want to be a divine messanger?''

Kohaku would've thought in silence for moment before looking up to Lady Ginrei again.

''I wish to help people and protect those in need evil beings, to help the unfortunate, Lady Ginrei.''

A slight grin would've curled on her lips as she looked at Kohaku, before she placed her hand on her head and ruffle her hair gently.

''That is admirable, Kohaku. I'm looking forward to your divine messanger training.''

Lady Ginrei said as she then gave Kohaku gentle headpats with a warm smile. Lady Ginrei looked as Kohaku's little white tail wagged behind her as Lady Ginrei would've with drawn her hand from head patting Kohaku, nodding for her to resume on her chores. As for Lady Ginrei, she seated herself on a coach and laid down and begun smoking her kiseru and relax as she looked up into the sky, seeing many torii gates as she was boss of Oka and Kohaku on her respective cloud as she was alone now, lost in thought as she pondered over her apprentice Oka and Kohaku, for now she was going to watch Kohaku be taught by Oka, a kitsune she had taught for centuries before she finished her divine messanger training.

Lady Ginrei glanced every now and then that Kohaku was doing allright with her chores, keeping an eye on Oka's apprentice, as she smoked with her kiseru, Lady Ginrei. She might be strict and serious but she wasnt always like it, she was soft and gentle when it came to new divine messanger trainees, especially Kohaku. But, Lady Ginrei often felt lonely as Oka was focused on teaching Kohaku, becuase of it, Oka and Kohaku were absent from the cloud or her chamber.

/uw Introduction to Lady Ginrei.

Pilot is a weird type of shark, despite having a curse himself by the tyrant of Ashcore, he is still his unique species, a mixture of shark (Gummy shark species) and halfly beastiary of Collosal dark tiger, from his father. But he looks nothing like a Gummy shark because the genes of his father gave his "shark" features fur, making it black and horrible for swimming, at least, he fur is fast at drying so it isn't much of a problem.

Small upsiedate, Pilot got a tattoo from the pirate team he came across, giving him the planet Saturn and three moons Dione, Epimetheus, and Phoebe. The two stars represented life and death as he is the son of death and the light of living.

He has the sillies and zooming now anyways! That's all on Pilot the little mischievous Vagabond🦈🪐

Previous Part

Eastern Forests. Mercenary Guild Territory

After a bit of driving, Kavrala sees a small white fox dive behind a tree to get away from the strange silent metal beast that her and Agent were riding in. Kav cranes her neck to try and keep track of it and shouts

“Oh! A fox!!! Looks like an arctic fox! Can we stop?”

“A fox? Must be a common Kaba fox. Of course we can stop”

Agent was actually quite fond of these little guys, even so much as to consider capturing a kit for Analina. But he had eventually decided against it. he didn't think it would have done well in an urban setting. Agent gets out to follow Kav, not melting into her shadow this time. Kav notices that he doesn't disappear into her shadow. She supposes that's because she's not running off at full speed. She sings out.

“aaaaAAAaaaa~ Hello little fox!”

The fox pokes its head out from behind the tree. That’s when Kav notices the first thing wrong with it. It’s got 4 eyes. 2 of the eyes are where a normal fox’s eyes should be, but it has 2 more on the side of its head, like a prey animal. The other thing is that its eyes shimmer slightly with what looks like starlight. Kav freezes, unsure what to expect

"Hello there, you must have wonderful eyesight. Having all of those eyes!"

It cocks its head at her and makes a sort of chirping sound. It doesn’t know what to expect from her either

(“Ah, an impasse. Well. It's most likely a normal animal, and Phen hasn't said anything…”)

"We're not gonna hurt you, I just want to see how shiny your fur is! It must keep you very warm!"

Kav begins to walk closer, slowly now

“Offer it food! They love that!”

Agent whispers from behind her. Kavrala glances backwards, and a smile makes its way onto her face. He sounded just as excited as she was!!. She pulls out a strip of home dried meat

"I have some food for you, if you'd like! It's tasty!"

Kav wiggles the meat around just the smallest bit, to emphasize how tasty it was. The fox’s eyes dart between the two of them and the food, and Kav notices the second set of eyes stays independent of that action, still scanning the area around. Then in a flash, it darts out and takes the meat with a happy chirp, before retreating back behind the tree. Kav notices the fox had 3 tails…

“Females have 1 tail, but males can have more. The more tails, the higher chance they will impress a female during mating season.” 

Agent whispers

“Try feeding it again. Sometimes it takes a few tries”

Kav studies Agent closely, trying to read his body language

"You really like them, don't you?"

Agent chuckles

“Yeah, maybe I do like these little guys”

Kav takes out another strip of meat and hands it to Agent

"Here little one, my friend also had food for you! The more you eat, the stronger you'll be to mate"

The fox looks at the meat, then once again darts out to snatch it. But this time it doesn’t retreat. Kav can see that its white fur looks very fluffy, and its ears are large, most likely for listening to both predators and prey. She studies the look of the fox, perhaps an omnivore? Prey and predator adaptations suggest an omnivorous lifestyle… Kav holds a handful of berries out.

"Do you like berries?"

The fox sniffs her hand, then carefully takes one. It chews for a few moments before sneezing the berry out with a surprised chirp.

“Must not be used to berries from outside the tundra.” 

Agent muses. He then pulls another strip of dried meat out from a pouch on his belt. He offers it to the fox, which takes it happily. Agent then takes the opportunity to scratch it under the chin. The fox purrs. Kav takes notes on their friendly, but skittish nature. And does a quick drawing of Phen scratching the foxes chin. She doesn't say it out loud, but makes a note on the page to try to get these animals under a protection law. Friendly animals look mighty fine to poachers.

As Phen pets it she steps around them in a circle slowly. Getting as good a look as she can. Males have multiple tails....... Do more appear with age? Or is it genetic?. Eventually Agent stops petting the fox. It sits back and looks between the pair curiously. It doesn’t know what these strange people are, but they seemed friendly. Kav extends her hand for it to sniff

"What a darling you are.. you must be very resourceful! May I hold you?"

The fox studies her for a moment, then Kav feels it say yes through the life song. Kavrala smiles warmly then picks up the little fox.

Really, it was just a ploy to get a better understanding of its body musculature and shape underneath the fur. But the gravity of holding a wild animal in her arms does not go unappreciated

"Very fluffy! Good for the winter!"

The fox snuggles up against her and purrs. The heat from her body does not go unappreciated. Kav would find that its body shape is pretty much the same compared to other foxes. The main differences seems to only be its tails and it’s starlight eyes, which are now closed in pleasure at having affection thrown at it. Content with her scientific examination, she allows herself to actually feel the cuteness she was pushing down

"Phen this is amazing. Remind me to bring Veldena here so she can visit these little guys!"

Agent chuckles.

“Sure thing. I actually bring Analina out here sometimes so she can see them. The foxes are very friendly despite being wild animals”

She kisses the foxes head instinctually

"Oh Veldena will love it here, she'll love the snow and meeting Analina and Onora and Ms. Five!”

Agent shifts uncomfortably

“Well… maybe not Five. At least not in her dragon form. Things might go poorly. But I bet the librarian would be fascinated with Veldena! She will probably be bombarding her with questions about her birth.”

Kavrala looks extremely saddened

"...... Do you think she'll be discriminated against..? For.. being part dragon?"

Agent is silent for a moment.

“Maybe, maybe not. I think if she stays in her humanoid form, and doesn’t tell anyone she can turn into a dragon, she’ll be fine. There are plenty of Dragonborn in the guild after all”

Kav have to think about that. Being part dragon is part of Veldena. She regularly transforms to hunt and deal with ecosystem wrecking problems. But she might be able to....

"... Well... It is something to think about later. For right now, I think we ought to find a place to set up camp

“Well in that case, back to the truck. We have a few more hours of driving. I know of a stream that I hope to make it to before dark”

Kavrala nods excitedly. She was hoping to maybe wander the forest at night, see some nocturnal species or even a Wynderling. Exciting!!!

“That sounds wonderful! And easy source of water as well!”

As they head back to the truck, Kav hears little footsteps behind them. When they get to the truck, she looks back to see the fox has followed them. Agent laughs.

“Looks like you made a friend!”

Kavrala blinks a few times, then smiles at the fox warmly

"Little one, do you want to come with us? Where we live is loud, and scary.”

She crouches down

“If you are prepared to accept that, then you may. But I would like you to consider your life out here before you make your choice.”

She waits for its decision. The fox looks back to the forest, then bounds up to Kav and nuzzles her leg. It’s chosen her. She picks him up gently, looking back at Phen

"I suppose I can't say no now, can I? Ahahah!"

She stands up again, and walks side by side with Phen back to the truck

"We'll have to think of a name for you little one!"

Agent scratches the fox under its chin

“Guess you can’t! As for names, you should be the one to name him. All I’ll say is that naming culture in the guild is pretty straightforward. Masculine names typically end in a consonant, while feminine names end in a vowel”

They get in the truck and start driving again. The fox is at first a little uneasy about the truck, but it quickly settles down in Kav’s lap and purrs

"I know, it's a strange mechanism isn't it? I didn't like it much at first either.."

Kav buckles up and pets the fox

"Ah, the naming conventions of Qt'un are a tiny bit more complex. Namely, waiting to see the child's personality"

“Well, I’m sure you will think of a good name”

They continue driving as the sun begins to sink on the horizon

I just finished painting this guy. Truly epic!! Carved him a few weeks ago at a woodcarving seminar. 😀😀

He's from a Rich Wetherbee pattern, changed up a little bit to suit my tastes. Really loving how he turned out.

(Not OC, was sent this, didn't find it on reddit or anywhere else. If whoever made this takes offense, I'll take it down.)

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iyaUNIOpuZ4

Link to the full video, not made by my artifact-crafting hands.

https://youtu.be/lix-vr_AF38?si=EZPaVcrJ1smnOHaT

At midnight, things walk far-off Lemarcia, forms of smoke and shadow.

They revel 'til night's end, laughing black-clad cackles.

Come dawn, my children, they'll darken another's barrow.

Yet come the night next, again we raise our hackles.

.

.

.

When blood runs black, and eyes go blind.

When skies fall, and land crumbles.

Then is the eye on us, of that which walks behind.

Trod upon the road ahead, and all others, that which humbles.

.

.

.

Fear, my children, for the night walks the smoking sea,

adrift in dreams of blood.

Fear, my children, for the night knows the taste of me,

and hungers for my brood.

.

.

.

I mark these words, these words alone.

Fear the children of shadow and smoke,

beasts of blackest throne.

Bringers of dark antiquity, awoke.

-------------------------------------------

Wind whistles through chimes, breaking the silence of nightfall. Rain drips from the peak of the obelisk, each drop setting the working to quivering. The gargantuan golden beast regards the obelisk, and carves a rune in, green and dead. The air, a strange mix of salt and dust, is cool. The circles of ruby and amethyst, torn from the heart of the false god Artharul the Wrathful, hum with an odd sort of light. Another rune, this one of a great, black eye, is carved. At last, the greatwyrm steps back, and reaches for the faint light of their soul. Upon the point goes the offering, and the runes flare to life.

Around the obelisk, shadows group and gather as the night alights in red. Swirling chaos, the clouds above Northwest Lemarcia part to reveal a hole, an opening, a path. A gesture, a wild grasp for the Darkness Before, and the shadows warp up the golden arm, twisting and twisting through the air 'til, impossibly, it reaches.

Shadowwyrms dance within the circle, live with glee as the presence reacts. Darkness, Shadow, Blood. Movement in the peripheral, that thing that sees you, that knows you, that is you.. or rather, your shadow.

The primeval gaze of the Father of Shades falls upon the wyrm, alert for the first in eons. Do-Rat-Kul, king upon a throne, tastes the offering, impossibly long tongue snapping it up in the space between the closing and opening of an eye. As dawn comes, the shadows circle back to their holes, leaving the only thing in the circle, cast over by the twitching shadow of the obelisk, a ring, hued in many colours.

..Is it your imagination, or is your shadow just a little larger than it was the day before?