[Rahil]

Thallominas 12th, 10012 XA
Midday | Mild Showers | Annoyingly Hot, Rahil might add

Dramatis Personae:
The Seekers — Rahil, Jael, Na'im, 7 Zanaryan advisors (who shall not be named, unless someone desires to), and two accompanying Mystriders (Wing Master Lagoon Chik-tik and Rider Lagoon Riverwind)
Malaki -- Gogron, Milik, Chieftan Barghruz, and Palak

Rahil sighed as he looked at the electric-blue and pink flowers fanned out from a tree's base. Water drifted down one petal as rain pitter pattered above Rahil's head, which was thankfully covered by a black broad-brimmed feather hat, the height of fashion back at home for the month, or so he was told. Being in the barbaric jungles of Acantha hardly brought out a desire to look fashionable—let alone presentable most of the time, with only the rain keeping Rahil cool and sane. He had Na'im ask the residents of the Mystrider village he set his base in where the flower he was admiring originated once, and sure enough, it was none other than the pitiful Earth; Earth was that polluted mess of a world in which the humans took advantage of the elements provided for them; The ingrates no doubt would crush an entire field of the remarkable Lycoris sprengeri if it were to give them a modicum of monetary gain. And then there was the other matter he had to attend to, which had kept him in Acantha for weeks. The lower masses proved simply too foolish to be trusted, regardless of which world he could occupy.

The Zanaryans spent two weeks traveling between villages as they traversed the Chineylu, almost always with Mystrider company. They seemed eager to help once Rahil's entourage "accidentally" mentioned that they were on a task set for them from Danae himself, and this had given him hope that perhaps, maybe—just maybe—this endeavor wouldn't take long. He should've known better. It wasn't like there was an active means for communication to Elysia, either, meaning it was likely that the rest of his operatives assumed his group were dead and making even less progress as a result.

Rahil glanced at an advisor, who'd been grovelling at his side and spouting nonsense he knew already. The creature they were seeking for Lord Danae was spotted and was nearly captured by the group, before the Malaki arrived to the scene and created a mess of things. It was bad enough that they had been raiding the area ever since the minor rainy season began at the end of Spring, however, the search group panicked upon facing them, and lost sight of the Malaki. To make matters even worse, a scout tipped off that they captured it in hopes of using it to barter with the Mystriders, rather than have to fight and lose more of their numbers. Local rumor had it that the Malaki were becoming even more aggressive after such losses. Of course, Rahil had absolutely no inkling of the cause of that. No, he'd never incite Mystriders to attack the scavengers who'd interrupted him at every turn.

The haughty noble's eyes narrowed.

"Your Grace, it seems we are ahead of the Malaki, for once. The creature's mate should be no more than a half a mile from our current location."

Rahil felt tempted to thank Xanth, though he was in no particular mood to do so; There'd been nothing but setback after setback in the damned jungle, which was hot and humid to the point that he was almost tempted to take after Mystrider fashion. Clothes were mere inconvenience when they caused one to sweat like pig iron. Rahil was hot. He was angry. And now his people just continued to make blunder after blunder even with native help. Xanth surely was punishing him for meeting this other God.

Well, damn her! Rahil thought. I didn't move even further from Zanarya just to let some barbarians set me on a pike, or be eaten alive by their damned bugs.

The latter seemed far more than likely, as he swatted one from his wrist for the umpteenth time. Rahil's gaze began to bore into the man speaking to him, whose name he'd long been past caring about, as his anger swelled and nearly burst beyond his usual quiet imprecation. The advisor began to pale considerably under his own lord's gaze as it bore down on him due to Rahil's temper. There would be no mistakes; Rahil accompanied the search party purely for the purpose and intention of getting out of the blasted jungle and sooner back to Danae—and hopefully, though he would not admit it—Elysia.


As the foliage changed from beautiful flowers to the color Rahil had most despised as of late, verdant green, the vosa's tracks were easily noticeable. Soft dirt had changed to crushed plants and off beaten paths that avoid terrestrial creatures that lurk about in search of pray. Rahil's group had lost a few of its numbers, in fact, due to such dangerous creatures. The march had still worn on most of the Zanaryans, while Mystriders flew throughout the area in search of Malaki. It'd been some time since their last arrival, and the group had began to become on edge as they reached a clearing.

The tracks had seemed to end there. Quietly, Rahil stepped from heel to toe as he approached one of the advisors, keeping an eye on their surroundings all the while.

"Sir, we've yet to see any sign that the creature has left the area, but we also have no sightings of it around, either..."

"I see, carry on with the search with the others." Rahil whispered briskly, brushing off a strange feeling that poked his mind in favor of dealing with his subordinate.

The group carried on, and as usual Rahil did his best to ignore them and focus on the otherworldly flora. A shift near his peripheral vision caught his eye, however, and he turned his head to focus on it. Within the brush, there was a blue that didn't quite match the rest of the scenery. As his gaze fell on it, however, it seemed entirely still. Too still. Rahil waited, staring at the spot as his men moved about.

"Are you certain it's still here?" Jael asked nervously, breaking the silence after a light gust of wind passed by, curtesy of the storm intensifying above.

It was what Rahil had been waiting for, increased downpour and all. All the leaves moved as the wind and heavier rainfall came by, but the part of the "brush" he'd seen had not. With a flick of his finger, he sent a pebble straight at it, catching Jael's attention, among others...

[Official NPC]

Rider Lagoon Riverwind was slowly beginning to learn the Zanaryans' language. At first, he had been confused by its formality and pomp, trying to shortcut his way through what appeared to be more ritual and tradition than useful vocabulary, but the black-wing serving as interpreter for Rahil's group was most insistent that he learn the 'proper' way to speak to them. According to him, the 'proper' way involved a lot of bowing and scraping.

Renga thought the whole thing hilarious. Their bond was not strong enough for them to share even simple thoughts like some of the others in his village, but he didn't need telepathy to recognise the myst's chuffing as laughter. The fuzzy green lighting up along his spine yet more sign that Riverwind's frustration was having the opposite effect on his dragon. Shut it, you. The myst quieted, and Riverwind went back to practising his words. His tongue tripped over the sounds and he narrowed his eyes on the forest below, as if he could glare through the foliage to the men responsible.

---

Gogron stilled on his haunches at the end of a fallen tree that jutted out of the earth at a forty-degree angle, a fist raised to silence the brave accompanying him. Milik grunted softly as inquiry but Gogron remained silent. His head was tilted back so he could peer through thick foliage and wisps of mist at a pair of mysts circling the vicinity. Following his gaze, Milik chuffed. “Should we attack?”

Gogron considered briefly. Instinct would have him throwing his spear, or jumping higher into the trees to get a better shot. Instead, he grunted a negative. “Small prey.” They were in the jungle looking for the Elysians purported to be here. From the groups Gogron's tribe had already thwarted, they had begun to understand that these people had ample supplies so this troop must be no different. The Mystrider presence changed things, however.

Pulling back an enormous fern with the tip of his spear, Gogron peered at the black-winged humanoids. They were further into the thick of the trees and had their backs to the two Malaki. Given the sheer inability of others of their kind to defend themselves, Gogron was confident that he remained undetected. “Go get Barghruz.”

[Rahil]

Unaware of the eyes beset upon him and his crew, Rahil stared intensely at the pebble he had sent into the brush. It hid something solid within, larger than a mere twig, and the object stirred into a slinking motion. He grinned at the confirmation of his suspicion.

It has been written time and time again that conviction is a fist of stone at the heart of all things. Shaped by the will of the sentient, it was built to withstand, to defy challenge. "When cornered it fights without honour." It had been said, of course, that there is nothing more terrible. But Rahil hardly believed in such things, for stone is his passion, his patron, and it is his tool.

The Zanaryan indignantly stomped his foot on the ground on impulse, creating a shift in the earth within the brush that would normally launch the object of his suspicion a safe distance from the Zanaryans in the clearing, but still within their area, as well as their sight. The object, much heavier than the upstart's expectations, merely rolled out of the brush, quivering in surprise at the thoughtless act. Rahil would have nodded at the at least sufficient result, were he not taken back by it's appearance.

In clear view, its form outlined by the rain that feel upon the group, lay the vosa they had been seeking. A large worm-like creature spread out across the dirt, with close to a hundred small legs darting around for solid ground, only to find slippery mud surrounding it. Lining it's torso, green spotted, black fuzzy spines propped up as it thrashed on the ground, quickly finding its bearings. Furthermore, a line of web stuck to it's body, revealing that it had in fact been hanging inside the brush fairly recently, suspended from some massive tree branch above them. Furthermore, it was lined by several blue bands with a black band inbetween each band, the length of which the Mystriders often claimed determined the length of the winter, or so Rahil had heard.*

Panic overriden pride, Rahil stepped back, and the vosa raised what appeared to be its head to him, with two large pincers swaying to wave off Jael, who'd reacted on instinct and kept his trident aimed at the "head." There was no time for words as both Jael and the vosa seemed to threaten one another in quick swivering motions, mimicking a thrust here and there. All Zanaryans quickly moved back, including Rahil, who'd been considering how to capture the creature without killing it. The two came to a standstill, though, realizing that neither side intended to injure the other unless necessary.

Rahil pictured in his mind a mud cased prison of stone around the creature, and slowly began to gather his strength—the "manipulation muscles", so to speak. In an instant, the vosa rolled to it's side, preventing the slowly rising ground beneath it from having a chance of forming such a thing. The Zanaryan balked at the prickly mass's speed, although he knew it did not have any sort of forward momentum to reach him. It was just then that he had remembered that the creature was a telepath, reading the movements of each Zanaryan as it slide past a blade of wind and the thrust of a trident. One of the advisors charged the creature with his spear in a brave act amidst fear, only to be torn at by a pincer before being slung to behind the vosa, back into the brush...

Rahil gave a moment to look away from the creature, trusting Jael to keep it at bay, and gave a nod to Na'im as a thought ocurred to him. The man's long, black hair reclined as he returned the gesture in understanding of his intention. Even if the vosa knew their movements, a combination of earth and air simultaneously would be far more successful than seperate attempts to immobolize it.

---

*Unconfirmed lore that is based off similar cultural stories regarding actual catapillars that I just threw in for fun. Unnecessary if it is unwanted, though.

Spoiler

I'm unsure of the actual dimensions of the vosa, but I figured that it is probably like a large catapillar, which are very, very bulky. So, "launch?" Rahil, you're silly.

I'll leave the decision of whether that works up to NPCs watching the interaction there (most of the Zanaryan NPCs are unaccounted for on purpose ), though the actual timespan of this post would probably just breach a minute, so Barghruz won't get to see this.

Also, -1 Avoidance Rate for Rahil being super smelly. I feel sorry for everyone.

[Official NPC]

Though difficult to see through the thick foliage, Wing Master Lagoon Chik-tik noted the sudden lack of forward motion in the party he was escorting and gave a whoop, commanding his partner to investigate.

Linguistic exercises abandoned, Riverwind kneed Renga's ribs. The myst flipped upside down to dive and wheel between branches for a quick fly-over that confirmed his suspicions: They had finally located a vosa. His cheer and Renga's colourful flash of congratulations cut off abruptly when he spotted something far more dangerous.

“Malaki! Malaki in the trees!”

---

Gogron snarled, hefted his spear and threw. He had always struggled to keep Mystriders in his sights, a flaw that other Malaki had scorned for all his years. This time, he thought to lead the target, and the thick wood pierced right through the myst's throat. As the pair crashed through heavy branches, he was already leaping from his vantage point. His hooves thudded into the dirt, his axe unsheathed on the fly, and he leaped forward swinging.