The Syzygy A Ship Astray in Thagretis

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Azlat Ushus

Priestess of the Draconic Order
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Thagretis
Thykla Palace
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The atmosphere within Thykla had been tense these last few days. All knew of the impending double eclipse, but none could prepare for the degree of calamity that would befall them. This one was to be far worse than any other, and it was only now that they had become aware...

Azlat had returned to Thagretis, to better assist with preparations. Presently, she was holding a discussion with Priest Rynam and Captain Kintsos over a developing crisis.


“The ship, Gytilas, has yet to return! They were due back at sunrise yesterday.”
Spoke Captain Kintsos. A grave concern, considering that it was now well into the afternoon of the following day. The ship’s journey had been a routine patrol of the Dragon’s Throne island, on which the Thagretans hoarded their wealth. Or rather, the wealth of the Holy Dragons to whom the Draconic Order remained in loyal service to.

“Could it be part of an̸other plot to st҉eal from the hoard?” Questioned Priest Rynam. Thagretis did not field a sizable navy. It was not a sailing nation. What few ships they had held a singular purpose – the defence of The Hoard, a vast sum of gold and valuables safely stowed on an island. There simply hadn’t been a need for a navy beyond that.

“Possible, but doubtful. All other c̴ities h͢ave been far to busy prepa͟ring to concern themselves with it.” Azlat reported. Having spent so much time outside of Thagretis, she had become the leading expert on matters of foreign intelligence. Captain Kintsos gave little sign of concern, however.

“It matters not, though it would be better that it be another attempt at pillaging. That, we have proven able to contend with. This chaos, however, is unprecedented.”
Replied the captain. Thagretis’ introduction to the outsiders had been tumultuous and violent, sparking great concern about this new world that had opened up before them. But not all were violent. Azlat could not forget the aid of Alexandra Alcantos and Nere Ashorn against the attack Taayi had inflicted upon them. Truly, Azlat owed the life of her eldest son to the aid of the outsiders.

Though they had been paid well, Azlat was of the idea that gold was not all that mattered to them. It was the first evidence she had that not all outsiders were consumed by such greed. Still, Azlat was aware that gold was a potent motivator, and that if they wanted talented help, it was best to offer substantial remuneration.

“Perhaps we ou͞ght enlist outside ass͜istance then?” Questioned Azlat. The others were quite amenable to the idea. Though Azlat may have had a bone to pick with the outsiders, few in Thagretis shared her attitude. Few had suffered enough to.

“I think so. We ou͠ght take the matter̴ to the Arch-Prophet.” Rynam concluded, and Azlat gave a nod in agreement. Together with Captain Kintsos, all three made their way to the Arch-Prophet to inform and make their case.


By Order of the Draconic Council:

One of our ships, the TNS Gytilas, has gone missing. We call on any adventurers and sailors to assist in its recovery.

Re-numeration shall be set at a twenty gold pieces for those who provide assistance, with a bonus ten given for the first a successful recovery of the missing ship. Quarters and food are to be granted for free for as long as the rescue operation is in effect.

All parties with interest are requested to make their way to the Thagretis portal stone, where a detachment will await your arrival.

The letter concludes with the seal of the Arch-Prophet
 
Sarah had arrived in the city only a week before the fliers and notices started being spread around.

It had been an enjoyable week. She had enough coin for room and board and to pay one of the serving girls to help her after hours. It had been a luxurious affair. But money doesn't last forever.

She rolled her right shoulder as she hobbled towards the portal stone. She had received fewer stares in Thagretis. Most individuals assumed that she had been less fortunate in how her 'dragon' blood had affected her. They were halfway right. She had learned only a few months prior that her magic had backfired. Apparently it had imprinted itself upon her body at the time it first activated. And now it would always forcibly heal her back into that twisted shape. They were wrong about the dragon part. Or at least she hoped they had been. The Professor had never quite discovered where the magic came from.

The lack of attention did not extend to her face. She had experienced a mixture of reactions. Some were in awe, others attraction, though most were in disgust. That was normal for her. Had been for several long years. Her left hand, clad in steel and leather. gripped the edge of the Molthal cloak's hood and pulled it down lower.

Her blue eyes scanned those around her. They often moved out of her way. On account of the scrapping sound from her left foot dragging on the ground. The edge of her sabaton had long ago ground away.

Then she saw them ahead. The city-state's priests. Their headdresses poked up from crowds and their long, black gowns stood out from the styles that the commoners wore. Each one had some visible mark to them. One had scales that covered a good chunk of visible skin. Another had fledgling wings growing from her back. A third with horns and vibrant red eyes.

Sarah pulled up to stand in front of them. Shoving her left hand into a pouch under her cloak she brought forth one of the letters. With a look in her eyes, she presented it to the lead priest. She had assumed him to be the lead priest on account of the ornateness of his robes compared to the other two.

Her eyes begged a challenge. She was used to others disregarding her due to her injuries. But she was no longer as constrained by them as she once was. She now had a measure of control over her magic and could call on it if she so wished. Though it would only last for a couple minutes and leave her exhausted and in a great deal of pain as her body forced itself to heal incorrectly back into its current twisted state.

"Your letter, priest, is open to all comers?" Her voice, despite the half-charred visage, came out clear and strong. It was accompanied by a tone and rhythm not unlike some of the lesser nobles in the city.
 
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Near the portal stone was a delegation sent from Thykla palace to oversee the arrival of requested aid. Some were soldiers, clad in armour forged in the unique angular style of Thagretan smiths. Some were clad in black robes, their heads adorned in golden ornaments from which layers of dark cloth were folded to form miters. Azlat was among them, with similar headdress in place of the her usual black hood she often wore for travel.

"Your letter, priest, is open to all comers?"

On hearing the words, one of the numerous priests turned to address Sarah.

“Yes, to a͠ll able to he̸lp. We're in need of it.”
Spoke the priest. He hadn't seen anything like Sarah before, and wasn't sure what to make of her injuries. Yet he spoke nothing of it, and whatever his thoughts were remained private. “We've plenty of go̷ld to renumerate the rescue efforts.” he added. Thagretis was quite wealthy, and the situation was dire.

“Priestess Ushus?” The priest called out, beckoning Azlat over to himself and Sarah. Amont the Thagretans, Azlat was by far the most familiar with the outside world, and tales of her travels had made her a minor celebrity within the city. Thagretis had been very insular for most of it's existance, having only recently opened to the outside world through the unexpected activation of the portal stone.

Azlat approached the two from her spot in the crowd a short distance away. She did not know what to make of Sarah's injuries, either. The burns could be borne of fire, or of magical misuse. The lands beyond the walls of their city were barbaric and feral, by Azlat's judgment. Whatever horrors this one had endured, Azlat could only imagine. Or perhaps she had trifled with magic she ought not have.

Such was the dange of magic that was not divine, Azlat believed.

“H͝ail. I am Azlat Ushus.”
Spoke Azlat. She too, was too polite to directly address Sarah's defomity. “Are y̵ou a sea̛farer, by̵ chance?” Azlat inquired.

Sarah Lindwell
 
Verra Venn observed the city of Thagretis from their temporary resting place directly outside of it, silently contemplating whether or not to enter. “Kreekichchrreee?” They paused to ask Mana, wanting their partner’s input on the issue. Threehat? Mana responded with a low, unintelligible, growl of what might have been confusion, which either meant they hadn’t quite gotten the question or were similarly stuck as to what to do. Due to this sort of impasse, the pair remained solid in place and subsequently watched as a guard lost control of one of the many fliers he was posting outside, the piece of paper flying away and towards Mana and themself.

Quick as a dart, one of their dragon's insectlike legs shot out and precisely pierced the paper before lowering it to Verra, who read the thing with interest. Its content was not hard to understand, even to the less than properly educated person they were thanks to the years of training for other things. There was no specific word they had to use to convey to Mana what they felt in that moment. It simply came out as a sort of childish squeal, that they could finally find new work, and there was also the words free and food in close proximity to one another, which was always good for someone used to going from paying task to paying task.

Mana laughed at them in their own bug-dragon sort of way, their feelers copying the sound of their stupid squeak with precision. "MAN!" they exclaimed, walking in front of the towering Mana and approaching with an excited look on their face. Noticing this, the guard (to his credit) did not totally freak out but instead very subtly...dropped the entire stack of fliers. "Yes, uh, what would you like from me, you and your...friend?" Verra quickly took up and shook his hand at these words, impressed at how the man was having a rather composed reaction compared to most. "Take me to...Job! Found this paper." they explained patiently, knowing their way of speaking was not the normal one.

"Yeah. Of course, um, sir." The guard said with a pause, looking up at Mana and back to Venn, as though calculating something. Finally he nodded once more and led them both through the open doors towards the priests waiting down the way. “Listen well, um-.” “I am Verra. This is Mana.” They interjected, pointing to themself and their partner in turn. “I see. Alright. Well, Verra, those ahead are priests, which are tantamount to nobility here.” Verra nodded and continued walking, silently agreeing to what the guard wanted, which was their best behavior. “Woodent want to make trouble for ya.”

They said this in an assuring tone, for despite not having much experience with guarding anything, they could only imagine the trouble this man would suffer if they did cause issues. Probably the same as if a Sandcloak allowed in some kind of traitor.

Despite this promise, however, their lack of knowledge as far as proceedings went caused they to finish the walk in front of the guard they were walking with, much to the man’s horror. “Heya Prist! I am here for the job and food and stuff.” They said far too loudly to fit the situation at hand. “My name is Verra, by the way.” They explained before noticing that another person actually also existed.

“Burned Woman, are you also here for job?” They said, the woman’s large scar catching his attention. At this well-intentioned but socially inept remark, their guard put his face in his hands and began whispering almost inaudible prayers.

Azlat Ushus
Sarah Lindwell
 
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“Heya Prist! I am here for the job and food and stuff.” Azlat gave a noticeable and awkward pause at the string of words that had barely formed a coherent sentence. Without so much as a glance at Verra, Azlat could not imagine what possible benefit could this uncultured barbarian could provide. After a brief moment to compose herself, the priestess turned around to face the arrival.

The sight of Mana left her speechless. Such a large creature itself was hardly a shock, but that it was in service to this barbarian was. With the revelation that her former assumptions were entirely unfounded, Azlat quickly put away her scowl to wear a forced and very diplomatic smile in its place.

Mana would have been a bothersome sight, were the dragon more traditional in appearance. Dragons were a central subject of Thagretan theology, and they held a strict definition of what was and wasn't one. To the Thagretans, true dragons were holy, though not all were. Those who were not but carried the traditional serpentine appearance were viewed with suspicion as pretenders at best, or enemies of Thagretis at worse.

Mana did not carry such a deceitful appearance, quite fortunately. Azlat did not peg them as either a dragon or a pretender. If anything, they were a solution to their pressing problem of what was effectively a search and rescue effort at sea, conducted by a kingdom with minimal seafaring vessels at its disposal.

“We do have food and stuff.” Azlat commented, with a glance to Verra and then to Mana. She didn't imagine it would take much, and the Thagretans had plenty to ply them with.

“I am Priestess Ushus. You're here about the rescue effort?” She said, maintaining her diplomatic facade in the face of an unexpectedly useful arrival.

Verra Venn
 
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