Open Chronicles A Giant Fruit

[Gabriel Elbion]

In the middle of the desert something strange had appeared. Out of nowhere, from thin air, something strange had come from the hot sands. The first person to notice it surely thought they were hallucinating. Whatever made them actually go up to it and touch it was beyond comprehension, but perhaps at the sight of the absurd, it was only natural to just go and see. Word traveled around about the remarkable thing, and it wasn’t long until all the nearby towns and cities were setting out to see it for their own eyes.

A giant piece of fruit.

At least, that’s what everyone was calling it. Twelve feet tall with at least a diameter of five feet, it was unlike anything anyone had seen. The thing had such an unnatural shape, like a gourd but no thick, hard skin. There was a slight velvety fuzz to it like a peach, but the color was incredible unique. Mostly purple at the top and bottom— but at the center is when is faded off into a fuchsia to red and then a deep orange. There was a hard brown husk of a stem and one singular wilting leaf that was two meters long despite beginning to crinkle up in the desert heat.

People had tried to lift the thing, with magic or technology, neither producing any results. People had tried to stab the flesh of the fruit to do nothing more than just barely prick through it’s skin, only one large man being able to boast about drawing a hint of juice and a euphorically sweet smell. Every day there was a crowd of people, keen on trying to figure out what exactly the large piece of fruit was, and if there was any way to see the flesh inside.

Some stayed far away, suspicious. After all, what if it was a poisonous trap?

Raziya thought similarly about the situation when she was told about it and ordered to check things out. The public was careless at times, and there was a high probability that disaster would strike if anyone did the wrong thing. Not that anyone could say what was wrong or what was right. Raziya was ready to figure it out, however, and even more prepared to protect in case the wrong thing did happen.

When she did arrive under the cloudless blue sky and the golden sands, sun blazing to show her deep skin was not dark but rather a myriad of colors, her limpid eyes sized up the fruit in question. She made her way towards it and lifted her chin high. Naturally, people parted for her, letting her stride unhindered to the grand fruit. Only one person dared to come up to her, an assistant of sorts. A meek urchin turned warrior, Sarvik. He trailed behind her as Raziya stalked her away around the fruit three times.

“What do you make of it?” He asked her.

“Looks to be edible.” She said, pulling out a curved blade to poke and prod at certain parts.

“You… think it’s edible? But, it’s nothing like anything here.”

“I’m sure many people once thought you couldn’t eat dates.” Was Raziya’s justification, and with a grunt she thrust the blade with all her might into the fruit. Two inches. Her blade could only reach two inches inside. Interesting. Her favorite dagger could easily pierce through bone but it couldn’t pierce through this enormous, over-sized, colorful peach-eggplant hybrid?

“That’s hardly a good argument,” Sarvik objected, crossing his well-muscled arms over his chest as he scowled at the paltry stab-wound the fruit had just endured.

“Well maybe someone should take a bite out of it to find out” Raziya responded dryly. Those who knew her understood this was hardly a joke, it was indeed a very possible solution to the General.

 

[Medja]

Chance was a curious thing. The very idea that something outlandish could occur by pure happenstance was something that people had seemed to just come to accept, Medja had noticed. Oddities were a simple part of life, it seemed, especially in a world as rife with magic as Arethil was. That was, at least, the scope of a normal human's observance. Medja's perspective, not bound by the trivialities of a mortal lifespan, was not nearly so limited.

When word of an enormous fruit sprouting in the midst of an otherwise barren stretch of desert reached the ears of the Empress Regent, many of her advisors and servants spoke of what a strange twist of chance it was. Medja knew better. In light of all that was happening in Amol-Kalit right now, such a thing could not be pure coincidence. The sorceress had half a mind to interrogate Lady Vashe, that slippery fae that Fieravene had been so kind as to deposit in her garden, whether or not she knew what was going on.

That would have been a wasted effort though, that much she knew. Vashe would assuredly plead ignorance, and whether or not she was feigning it would be impossible to discern. So it was that Medja embarked to see the thing herself. Perhaps she'd be able to decipher its origin, its worth, with her own knowledge and talents.

Sure enough, as she'd floated from her chariot and closed to inspect the thing, the crowd parting around her presence with nary an announcement of her arrival, the rumor had been true. It was...a big fucking fruit. Taller than the minotaur warrior she'd once watched fight the Emperor's right hand man, more vibrant than a Ragashi sunset. And presently being stabbed by an armored, exotic looking woman as she and her compatriot discussed taking a bite. Curious.

"A bit reckless of an approach, don't you think?" She asked the stranger, bandages once coiled around her forearms snaking out to begin probing into the ground, offering the sorceress a connection with the earth. She quirked her head and offered a sly smile to the armored woman as she floated up to the fruit bestride the two. "Then again, I've been told that fortune favors the bold."

 

[Arash of Ragash]

Arash always had been a curious person, the mystery was what made life exciting, giving that a bit of spice and he wasn't one to ignore that siren call of mystery. it often came to him in the form of rumours and if you want rumours from outside the cities you to speak to the caravans. they like to talk to one another, it is often easy to overhear their conversations and that is how Arash found out about this mysterious fruit.

"and that is a belief I carry myself, nothing ventured nothing gained," he butted in he knew he was talking she was technically his boss, well his boss's boss but she was one charge of the hands. His clothing nods to his allegiance, the occasionally subtle hand symbology across but the main one was his signet ring.

"Also if there is no risk there is no fun, the risk is what makes it interesting," he approached the weird fruit standing with the three. "I'll take the first bite and if I die, I die doing what I loved, solving a mystery."

 

[Alistair Krixus]

Life has a way of putting people in difficult situations. Maybe the world secretly liked to test people, but Alistair was of the opinion that it just liked wasting his time...that was until today.

It had all started when Alistair had been tasked with hunting down bandits that thought they could take advantage of an outpost under the protection of Vel Anir. That was the easy part. However, on the way back from dealing with the bandits, he was caught in a sand storm. He would have died in that storm. Instead, he was captured by slavers while he was in a near dehydrated state.

Fast forward, a few weeks of travel and Alistair managed to escape, while slaughtering the entire small caravan. This left him free, but also lost in the middle of a desert he had only partially traveled in.

Thankfully, his reward for all these ordeals was discovering a continuous stream of people that led him to the gathering centered on the strange miracle fruit.

Alistair had little idea of the identities of the others inspecting the fruit, but his curiosity one out as he drew closer, but did stay a few steps further away than the others.

"You could also just die and we gleam nothing from your death...If it is as miraculous as it seems, then its effects may also be unique."

He did not know the others, but he looked at Medja and Raziya, the ones that were not immediately trying to eat the fruit.

"There is also the chance that...the fruit only provides its...boon or curse to one individual."

He offered as polite a bow as he could towards all of them, in his incredibly dusty clothing.

"All of this to say to try and politely say, we may want to inspect it before someone just eats it."

Raziya Medja Arash of Ragash

 

[Gabriel Elbion]

Raziya’s dark brow twitched in irritation, her full lips dropping down into a dissatisfied frown. She hadn’t turned around, at this moment she needed a moment to recollect her face into something far more pleasant to the two that thought they could lecture her. Was she young? Most definitely. But as Raziya straightened her shoulders, raising her head up high once again, she reminded herself just who she was. The most powerful cosmic mage in the history of Arethil! One of the few cosmic mages in this day and age, even!

She pulled out her dagger, translucent juice dripping from the polished steel to darken the sand, sugary sweetness like palm fruit and rose petals in the thickest sugar-syrup filled the air.

“The weak can worry about being reckless, but the stronger you are then the more open you can be—“ her voice caught in her throat as she made eye-contact first eyes that sparkled greater than emeralds. She shut her mouth then, quickly, gnashing her teeth together. It’s not that Raziya had ever met the Empress Regent before, however it’s not like she had never heard of Medja. It didn’t matter if she was from Ragash or not.

Besides, even if it weren’t Medja, Raziya’s sight was greater in things that dealt with the unknown. The things that couldn’t be seen. And what she saw, other than the physical form of the Empress Regent was her might. The might that made the hairs on the back of her neck stand up despite the easy look on Medja’s face. Raziya had no business to lecture her on the benefits of strength.

She then brought her gaze to the other two. A man and a boy. She raised a dark brow quizzically at the strangest one of them all: ragged clothes that revealed pale skin. He wasn’t from around here. No one lived in Amol-Kalit and evaded the blistering blaze of the sun. The bridge of his nose was red, further confirming to Raziya that he didn’t belong.

At least he had the tact to kneel before her. Raziya casted a look at Sarvick, a two finger gestured was made, and then the both of them kneeled down before her, much like Alistair had. Raziya even went as far as to bow down her head.

“My apologies for my ignorance.” Raziya said, to Medja, and then brought her opal eyes to the two men. “If blades struggle to pierce the flesh I’m afraid anyone’s jaws can do little more than to scratch the surface.” Sarvick nodded his head in agreement. “That being said, I think it would be beneficial to cut out a piece. Or. If you’d like.” She held her dagger out to Arash. “You can lick it.”

Medja Arash of Ragash Alistair Krixus

 

[Medja]

Quite the collection of souls had gathered beneath the shade of the giant fruit. A distinctly Ragashi man offering both his ideals and his own life for the sake of the scientific method. Medja curled a finger curiously beneath her chin. Devotion was certainly an admirable trait, but untempered, it was simply foolhardiness. This was an idea that seemed to be shared by a much more foreign looking individual.

Medja quirked her head towards the pale young man that had approached and offered his own opinion, unbidden. This one seemed to be far more cautious in his examination. His origin was certainly a reason for pause and consideration by the Vizier of Stars, as he clearly did not belong, but for now he was an odd participant in this little game.

"There is also the chance that...the fruit only provides its...boon or curse to one individual."

The regent's gaze turned back upon the fruit in question.
"Indeed, outlander. And so we must ponder, what indeed should we do? Without an oracle, we have not the means of divining its purpose." She mused, floating closer to the giant thing's surface. All the while, her bandages coursed through the ground, searching for any sign of...well, something that may have been left behind by her ancient mentor. Something that was, perhaps, leaking.

The one individual among the bunch that seemed to understand, or at least respect, the station of the floating woman in their presence was the other quite exotic figure among them. Only, much in reverse of the young man.

Medja smiled slyly at the other woman's apology. Indeed, smart enough to know Medja's stature, but proud enough not to grovel, and focused enough not to stray from the topic at hand. Medja liked that.
"The strong do not survive by virtue of foolishness. Even a mighty warrior must consider his footing, his form," The regent's eyes wandered over Raziya's form, taking note of the way she carried herself, of the other individual in her wake. She watched as the woman held the knife out to the Ragashi man with keen interest. "Or a commander, her tactics."

 

[Haatim el-Amara]

Much like Arash, Haatim happened upon the gathering. Fortunately, he hadn't suffered like the aforementioned man. His gaze, a mercurial and curious gray stare, moved across the crowd. He did not yet approach the small group closest to it. He wanted to, but he'd be of little help unless someone died, and even then whoever ate of it, if things went south, he could at least create a ghoul.

The necromancer pursed his lips briefly, his face blank of any obvious emotion. Finally, he made the decision to go ahead and approach, what could be worse? When he reached them, he bowed to the Empress, but only for a moment. It was the fruit he wanted to know about. His keen sense of smell picked up the sweet aroma from the blade, and his stormy gaze returned to the fruit.

"What is this?" he asked, his voice deep. He was a man of little words, so the fact that he even asked a question was odd in and of itself. He dipped his head in the direction of the oversized fruit. Furthermore, he could see the small, straight line that had come from Raziya's blade. A lightly tanned hand reached out to the woman.

"Do you mind if I look at that?" he asked, looking at her. "I'll taste it, and we'll see it's effect."

Haatim held little regard for his life; he was at peace with death, and after what felt like thirty-eight years of solitude and studying had brought him no happiness in his existence. It drove him to take risks he normally wouldn't. Today was one of the days he was willing to risk his life for the Empire.

 

[Arash of Ragash]

He smirked at Raziya's comment that was cut short, this wasn't about strength or being able to survive, he was there for adventure, the idea to push something forward, to experience something few others have, he didn't fear death, he feared never had lived in the first place.

He would take the blade from her hand, his body and expression relaxed, not a single glimpse of worry or hesitance in it. sticking out his tongue it ran across the flat of the blade, he smacked his lips as he analysed the taste that was on his tongue "sweet like a... peach but... with a slight spice that... tingles the tongue." currently he didn't feel any different, though some poisons take minutes or hours take effect, so it might take some time. "as of now, I feel fine."

 

[Alistair Krixus]

Alistair watched the others kneel down towards one of the women after he had bowed. Hmm, maybe he should have kneeled with the others, but he was also not from around here and he was not sure who this woman was, yet. She much be important though. Still, for now, she would have to be satisfied with a bow instead.

He turned with a curious gaze and watched the very brave man, or possibly very dumb man take a taste of the fruit. Alistair would not lie, he stood in silence for the next few seconds very much expecting the man to just blow up or die on the spot.

It was with great relief that, that did not happen, because he did not want blood on all of his dirty clothes. Blood and sand were not a great mix.

He was about to suggest they take a sample to a city and run some tests on the strange fruit, that was what he would have done had he had his workshop here. Not to mention, it would have been a great way for him to be given directions to a city where he could potentially get a ship ride back to Vel Anir.

"Well, good luck then...Hope you make it."

That was all Alistair could think to say. He would have suggested not to do that, in fact, he had. If the man started showing negative signs then that would likely be it. Alistair did have medical knowledge dealing with poisons and magic, but such a strange fruit would likely be difficult to deal with if it proved to be poisonous.

Medja Raziya Haatim el-Amara Arash of Ragash

 

[DeeHaxs]

The young Komodi approached it and, after many slashs, he started to ask around if anyone new how to obtain a ballista

 

[Gabriel Elbion]

If Raziya’s skin weren’t dark and if she didn’t have nerves of steel, perhaps she would have blushed under the Empress’ emerald eyes. Instead, upon standing up and facing the Empress, and the others, Raziya straightened her shoulders. Looking at Arash, she waited along with Alistair. Nothing seemed to happen to him and perhaps that was the best thing that could happen right now.

Her gaze looked over at the Alistair.

“You,” She said, pointing at the pale-skinned man. “You have a certain physique, where do you come from?” And then looking over at Arash, “sit down. Tell Sarvik if you feel sick. Or dying.” Gesturing to Alistair she told the initiate to follow her. He seemed hesitant but, at the same time, he was unlike the others, and not just because he had a different skin color. But there were something that both he and Raziya had in common: a warrior’s physique.

Sarvik looked towards Medja, and then at the Komodi. “He’s not with you, I’m assuming?”

Medja Arash of Ragash Alistair Krixus DeeHaxs

 

[Alistair Krixus]

Alistair was watching Arash intently before being called away by one of the women, the warrior. He looked at all the people gathering around the strange fruit, before moving off to the side with her. A light smile clung to his face as he looked Raziya over once again before settling onto her eyes to hold contact.

"From everywhere I would say. Grew up in a caravan, but I think the folks had me somewhere near Oban." He lied easily.

It was common practice not to give away one was from the Academy if it was not deemed necessary. For now, it was best to just be a wandering warrior with a bit of scientific fascination. That was basically what he was anyways.

"I take it most of you must be from around here. I guess I stand out."

Raziya