Sungar, the Eastern Coast, the fishing village of Iwatoro. Midday.
Here resides Beryl, a wilderness guide who is now "between jobs" -- they have taken a break from their usual work to get odd jobs in nearby villages. Iwatoro is on the coast, and various fishing boats are bobbing in the waves as the humble farmers of the sea cast out their nets, bringing up a bounty of seafood. Others tend to seaweed growing in the shallows, and those further inland cultivate rice in large paddies. It is no wonder, then, that the smell of delicious seafood is second only to the overpowering stench of fish and mollusks!
Beryl is a Kitsui, a foxperson, fur a marbled silver-brown, with a short fluffy bob of brown hair hiding under a hood. Their armor is a bit of a mish-mash of leather, hides, and cloth, all dyed in dark earthen tones to help them blend into their surroundings. The only place they wouldn’t fit in is with high society, but they don’t ever plan on fitting in with nobles anyway.
It is a warm day. Beryl is resting near the piers, leaning against the post of an awning over a merchant's stall. Most of the piers are designed for smaller vessels, but one large pier juts out far into the sea, and a single ship is anchored there. Beryl has kept their ears open, and heard that the ship is only docked for the next hour at most; the captain -- a Lupii of disconcerting size -- has anchored here only long enough to speak with an old friend here in Iwatoro. That friend in question is Victoria: an elderly Lupii who has lived in Iwatoro her whole life (an uncommon sight in Nekai lands!) and is selling fish at the stall Beryl is leaning up against.
Now, Beryl folds their arms and takes in a deep breath of fishy air. While their journey has been ever-unending, as is the life of those with wanderlust, it is here that it truly begins. Here and now, as a black rat runs over Beryl's foot and tickles their toes, startling them a little. And always, a journey begins with patience: Beryl's waiting pays off as a Lupii -- the only living soul anyone has seen so far on that ship -- comes down the gangplank and saunters down the pier. Beryl greets the Lupii with a small wave as they get closer.
Victoria sees Beryl's wave and perks up. She was perhaps once a rich brown color, but age has since caused their fur to become silver and white, with only a hint of brown. Their eyes, as well, have been dulled of the color she once had in her youth. But there is still a twinkle in her eye as she spots the Lupii coming towards her. "Lucius!" she calls out in a deep, grizzled voice. "It has been too long. How have you been?"
The large Lupii, apparently named Lucius, nods to Beryl and offers a mumbled greeting. He steps up to Victoria and gives her a great big hug. "It has been too long, Victoria. I've been well, but there are things we must speak of." Lucius glances down at Beryl. "Can we trust this one?" he asks Victoria. "I mean no disrespect, of course. It is simply a topic that requires... discretion."
Victoria looks at Beryl and winks. "Yes, they're trustworthy. I haven't known them for long, but I can tell they're a good person."
Lucius looks down at Beryl, perhaps expecting some kind of greeting.
Beryl nods, but doesn’t straighten up from their relaxed pose. "My name is Beryl. I'm a wilderness guide normally, but lately, I've found myself helping out folks here with odd jobs more than anything else."
Lucius bows. "A pleasure to meet you. I am Lucius."
Victoria puts a hand on Beryl's shoulder. "Oh, Beryl, could you head to the inn and fetch some sake? Just ask the innkeeper for the special reserve, I've been saving it for an occasion like this."
"Of course, it won't be an issue." Beryl heads to the inn. As Beryl heads towards the inn, they can hear Victoria and Lucius talking in low tones to one another. Something about the north, and Okuramoto.
The birds, which normally sing lovely tunes at this time of year, have gone quiet. The black rat that had run over Beryl's foot earlier runs up ahead, diving through a small hole in the stone walls of the inn, and disappearing inside. The wind changes direction, and stops briefly as Beryl places their hand upon the door of the inn. Beryl pauses briefly to look around before going inside. Nothing otherwise out of the ordinary seems to be about.
Hm.
Hmm.
Beryl enters the inn. It is well-lit, with many stools and tables and benches. A curtain hides the kitchen in the back, where delicious smells waft out. There aren't any customers right now, as all the laborers are either out in the fields or fishing in their boats. A young Nekai girl with dusky blue fur approaches Beryl. Her hair is pulled back into a bun, and her kimono is simple but practical. "Konnichiwa, Beryl-san! How can I help you?"
"I was just asked to get some sake for Victoria. Specifically from a special reserve?"
The black rat runs across the floor. The serving girl glares at it briefly, her tail poofing, and she mumbles something about setting up traps. She then looks back up to Beryl. "Ah, yes. I know the one. I'll fetch it right away." She shuffles off to the kitchen.
There is the faintest tremor in the ground. A nearby vase shifts ever so slightly -- not enough to make it fall over, but enough to make a tiny clinking sound. Beryl waits nervously patiently while the serving girl gets the sake. After all, minor tremors happen all the time and totally mean nothing, right?
The next thing Beryl knows, they are face-first on the floor. Their eyes flutter open, as the blurry world around them spins and twists slightly. An intense throbbing sensation is the first thing they feel; the large wooden post resting on their head is the second. Their body feels heavy as they lay there on the ground. It feels as though they have been asleep for almost a week.
But it hasn't been a week. Judging by how there are still tiny pieces of debris and dust falling from the ceiling, it's still The Present.
"Of all the things that I expected to happen today, this was certainly not on the list," Beryl grumbles to no one in particular and tries to get the post off them so they can get up.
As Beryl pushes the post off of them and stumbles to their feet, they can see their surroundings much better. It's the inn, but ruined. Trashed. The posts holding up the ceiling have collapsed. The ceiling, as a result, is broken open. Shingles and splintered wooden boards litter the floor. The tables and stools are crooked and strewn about. Bottles, plates, and dishes are smashed on the ground. One of the thick wooden posts has fallen in front of the door. And there, on the ground, Beryl spots her. The Nekai serving girl. She is lying on the ground. Her only movement is the ragged rising and falling of her chest.
This wasn't an earthquake. Earthquakes don't do this. The loud growling outside, combined with screaming and the sounds of fighting -- that's also not earthquakes. At least, not that Beryl knows of. And right now, Beryl can't quite think straight with the throbbing headache.
A sake bottle rolls gently across the floor.
Beryl decides to check just how injured the girl is first. She's breathing. Barely. A trickle of blood comes down off the girl's forehead, staining her fur and dribbling down onto the floor.
The sake bottle rolls lazily across the floor, and bumps against Beryl's foot.
Beryl glances at the sake bottle and sighs. "Well, at least I know where that is. Not that it's likely to help me at the moment." They place it next to the girl and then walk over to the post blocking the door and try to move it enough to open it. With a surprising surge of adrenaline, Beryl manages to hoist the entire post up and toss it to the side with ease. If she wasn’t unconscious, the serving girl would have swooned.
Beryl moves back to the girl to pick her up. After a moment of consideration, they grab the bottle of sake first. Once they're sure they're ready, they head out the door.
The moment Beryl opens the door, they can see absolute carnage. A massive Oni, with blue-gray skin and wielding a huge Tetsubo club, is swinging left and right. Citizens scatter, screaming, as the club connects with a building and smashes open a wall. Lucius is guarding Victoria, holding her behind him with one hand, and aiming a revolver at the Oni with the other. A handful of Ashigaru -- the local militia, equipped with shoddy, ill-fitting gear likely passed down in the family -- attempt to hold the demon at bay with varying levels of success.
Reasoning that the safest place for the serving girl would probably be with Lucius, Beryl makes their way toward him and Victoria. As they approach, they do their best to wave to Lucius and Victoria without dropping the girl.
The Oni takes another massive swing. Beryl slides under the massive club, still holding the serving girl. Sunlight glints off the iron studs as they narrowly shave overtop their head. Lucius catches the club with his hands, grunting, and pushes the weapon away before firing a shot into the Oni's chest.
"Got the sake, Beryl?" he grunts again, dodging another wild swing. The Ashigaru jab at the beast with their spears, temporarily distracting it from Beryl and their precious cargo.
"I do, but I think we have a much bigger issue to deal with at the moment." Beryl places the girl on the ground and puts the sake next to her.
"Do NOT drop the sake! Keep it on you!" Lucius says. Victoria nods at Beryl. "I'll take care of the girl; you take care of the bottle."
Beryl quickly picks the sake back up. "My apologies. Any specific ideas for a solution, or are we just planning on hitting it fairly hard?"
Lucius fumbles with his revolver, inserting a handful of fresh rounds into the cylinder. "If you've got a better idea than hitting it hard, be my guest!" the Lupii growls.
"Understood. Stay safe, you two." Beryl runs toward the Oni, drawing their wakizashi, slipping around behind it. They lunge with their blade, stabbing the Oni right in the spine. It roars in pain and anger, reaching its free hand behind its back to the spot where Beryl’s attack had connected. It turns to face its sneaky opponent, and roars in Beryl’s face. It does not have good-smelling breath.
Doing their best to ignore the smell, Beryl attacks the Oni again. Their blade jabs into the Oni's jowl, causing it to roar in pain and lash out in anger. Beryl is smacked by a hefty hand, tumbling back a few paces. They kneel for a moment, and grunt with exertion. There seems to be a warm feeling on Beryl's chest. Not in their chest. On it. Beryl somewhat reluctantly looks down at their chest to see what's on it.
Under their armor, nestled atop their undershirt, is the old knife their deceased friend had given Beryl so long ago. It is held around their neck on a length of sturdy string, in a humble wooden sheathe. It normally isn’t this warm. It’s normally not warm at all. A tiny bit of blade pokes out from the sheathe, having been jostled out slightly from the fight. The visible metal is glowing a faint red.
That’s not normal either.
Beryl pushes the blade completely back into the sheath, figuring that it would be something to solve when their life isn't in immediate danger... and hoping that nothing particularly bad happens as a result of it.
They then attack the Oni again.
Something particularly bad immediately happens to Beryl. Whether or not it is because they didn't solve the mystery of the blade is up for debate, but that can be saved for another time. A time when their life isn't in immediate danger. Like right now.
A shadow covers the sun, and then a rush of air heralds the arrival of a wyvern. It crashes down atop the Oni, forcing it to the ground. The wyvern lets out an ear-splitting screech as the Oni struggles beneath it. With a cruel and deliberate movement, the wyvern crushes the Oni's skull underneath a massive, clawed foot. The wyvern bats Beryl away with a leathery wing, sending them tumbling head-over-heels through the air. They crash into a wall in an almost comical way -- the wall cracks, Beryl sticks to the wall for almost a full second, then slowly they peel off and slump to the ground.
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The wyvern is massive and ugly, as most wyverns are wont to be. Its dark, sickly green scales have huge scars carved into them, and its talons clack loudly on the cobblestones. Civilians scatter, and a few Ashigaru toss down their weapons and flee as well. Lucius is still guarding Victoria, revolver at the ready.
Despite their dazed state, Beryl notices several things, in this order:
Firstly, the wyvern is furious. That can be said about all wyverns, but this is a ferociousness that stems not from anger, but from confusion. The beast's movements are labored, and thick, sticky drool drips from its maw. It lashes out at random, crushing shop stalls and rooftops.
Secondly, the knife around Beryl's neck is burning hot now. And thirdly...
Beryl recognizes this wyvern.
It's the one that killed their friend, so long ago. It was supposed to be dead, too.
The wyvern slowly turns to look at Beryl. Its eyes are blank -- devoid of both thought and color. Milky white eyes, staring directly at Beryl. The furious confusion turns into furious recognition. Wyverns don't have blank white eyes. Wyverns don't come back to life. But this one? This one has. And it knows who Beryl is.
Beryl slowly got to their feet, trying to work out a plan. They had no good options here, leading it away and fighting it alone would likely get them killed, and fighting it here put the civilians in danger. They rush forward to attack, hoping to distract it long enough for Lucius to get some good shots in. Then, maybe, they can lead it away from the village.
The wyvern roars as Beryl charges. Black fluid, goopy and viscous, drips from its eyes and mouth -- a spray of spit and black ichor spatters Beryl. It doesn't hurt, but it sure is gross.
Beryl's blade connects with the creature's snout. One would think the thick scales of a wyvern would be potent armor against steel, but Beryl's weapon slides in easily. The scales crack like autumn leaves underfoot, crumbling away. The flesh around Beryl's blade sizzles and melts, showing the creature's bones underneath. By the time Beryl pulls back, the wyvern's entire snout is now devoid of flesh. Only bone remains. Its drool now falls through the bottom of its open jaw, mingling on the cobblestone with the oily fluid that was once the beast's face.
Lucius looks taken aback at first, horrified, but then grim determination sets on his face. He fires his revolver at the beast -- clearly, he had held back from doing so as bullets rarely puncture wyvern scales, but now he knows that this... thing ... has no such defense. Where his bullets strike, the same thing happens as with Beryl's attack: scales crack and crumble, and flesh melts to the ground. The wyvern roars again, but weaker. Its breathing is labored, its drool sticky, its eyes tired. Beryl's and Lucius's attacks have left the beast a disgusting version of what it was just a minute ago -- half flesh (if it can be called flesh at this point), and half bone. Beryl attacks the wyvern again while trying to not think too much about what's happening to it.
An example of what Beryl is trying hard not to think about: their blade striking the bare jaw of the creature, shattering the bone, and causing the entire lower half of the skull to dislocate. The wyvern barely reacts — with no flesh and nerves to strike, the attack does little to pain the beast. It’s good that Beryl isn’t thinking too hard about it, because the Ashigaru who still remain certainly are. One rushes to a bucket and begins retching into it.
The wyvern now rears back, sucking in a deep breath, its half-dissolved lungs laboring to wheeze in some air. It roars once more; an ear-splitting screech that shatters nearby windows. The force of the roar is so powerful that its dislocated jaw comes fully loose, clattering to the cobblestone. Despite the blank look in its eyes, one could still see a sense of mortal realization in its eyes — it knew its death was approaching soon. Gathering what little strength it has left, it makes one final, desperate charge.
Beryl does their best to back away from the wyvern’s death throes, but their feet slip on the cobbles, slick with the melted flesh of the beast. They tumble to the ground, and though they narrowly avoid being crushed by a massive claw, their sword falls out of their grasp. The sake, too, rolls out from Beryl’s possession, making a wobbly escape as it rolls away. Though it is the least of their worries, there is a small silver lining to be had in the fact that the sake bottle is miraculously unharmed.
As Beryl lies there, the back claws of the wyvern scrape over their body — their armor protects them from any true damage, but the knife-necklace is caught on a talon and torn away. It lands next to Beryl, unsheathed. The blade is bright red, and gives off a heat as though it had just come from the forge it was made in.
As the wyvern charges blindly forward, its body disintegrates. Every one of its steps is joined by chunks of flesh sloughing off and turning to ichor. Lucius attempts to shield Victoria, but the beast’s final rush proves too strong: Lucius is knocked aside, and Victoria receives a talon through the chest. And now, finally, the wyvern lets out a final, almost pitiful roar. As the last of the flesh burns away, the bones unhinge and fall to the ground. Each one, in turn, begins to reduce into dust.
Until, finally, all that is left is the skull. The eyes are still intact, and the disembodied, fleshless head continues to shift and squirm ever so slightly. Despite no longer having lungs, a deathly rasping sound can still be heard coming from what remains of its mouth. Flecks of drool and black slime drip off the fangs. It stares directly at Beryl. Even if it still had eyelids, its gaze would be unblinking.
Beryl grabs the sake bottle off the ground and makes their way to Lucius and Victoria. Even though the wyvern was dead again, they felt no relief: it had taken another life. One that they might have been able to save.
Lucius rushes to Victoria's side. As Beryl approaches the two, the wyvern's eyes follow them. The skull continues to rattle slightly, restless and hungry, as it rasps in more air into the lungs it no longer has. It speaks now, in a breathy voice -- if one could call it a "voice" -- in a language Beryl does not understand.
"Ann'y’etii Tue, Tue'y'mor Ann."
Victoria has a hole in her chest, as the talon that pierced it has since disintegrated with the rest of the skeleton. She gasps for air, clutching at the wound, unable to speak. Lucius is cursing under his breath, attempting to do something, anything, to assist.
With the fighting over, some of the townsfolk peek their heads out of their hiding places, wary of further danger. One by one they emerge, to gaze solemnly upon the carnage.
"Lucius, do you think you know any way we could try to save her? Anything at all?"
As Beryl asks this, Victoria gathers up her strength to lean into Lucius's ear. She whispers something, then goes limp. Lucius shudders, then gently sets her body down. "No," he says. "But she did have a request."
Lucius shuts Victoria's eyes with a gentle hand and kisses her forehead. "Sleep well, friend," he says, before standing up. He looks at Beryl.
"She trusts--" Lucius stops, catching himself. He swallows down a lump in his throat. "-- ... trusted ... you. And she always had a good eye for people. Judging by how you went toe-to-toe with those beasts without a second thought, I believe her. And so, I trust you too."
Around them, the townsfolk go from silent fear to hurried action. They set to work clearing away rubble and pulling people out of crushed houses. Others begin hastily bringing what few medical supplies they have to assist the wounded. The Ashigaru that remain attempt to give orders as best as possible, and stay on watch for any new threats.
"I am honored to hear that. What was the request?"
"To trust you," Lucius replies gruffly. "Do you still have the sake?"
"I do." Beryl holds out the bottle.
"Good. Hold onto it. Guard it with your life, as Victoria was willing to do." Lucius looks down at the skull of the wyvern, which is still rattling and breathing heavily. "And what in hell was that thing? I've never seen a wyvern.... do that."
"I have no idea. The wyvern itself was one that I encountered a while ago though."
"... You know it?"
"You know how I mentioned I was a wilderness guide? Well, I had a friend that I worked with. Until we ran into that wyvern at least."
"What happened, if you don't mind me asking?" Lucius kicks the skull. It shudders.
"Killed my friend while out on an expedition," Beryl answers quietly, squinting at the skull. They readjust their hood, which had been ruffled up during the fight. "I tracked it. Found it. Killed it. Or, I thought so."
Lucius looks at the skull. "Doesn’t look dead yet to me," he growls. He bashes the skull with a mighty fist, but it doesn’t budge. Lucius fires his revolver at the skull. It still doesn’t budge. Lucius curses. It doesn’t budge, but he didn’t expect it to this time. It continues to "breathe" raspily, and gooey saliva still drips from its teeth, originating from who knows where.
"B... Be... Beryl... Ann'y’etti ... Tue, Tue'y'... mor Ann." the skull says, struggling to speak for multiple obvious reasons, and perhaps a few not-so-obvious ones.
Acting on a lingering impulse, Beryl walks over to the knife that they left lying on the ground and picks it up. Despite the intense heat coming off the blade, Beryl feels nothing. It is almost as though it knows Beryl, and refuses to harm them. Trying to think nothing of it, they return to the skull and stab it. The blade slides easily into the skull, sending cracks throughout.
"Tursun... Ann’y’Ir’en... Ann’y’wyrd’orana Tue..." it sighs, before crumbling to dust. The two milky white eyes harden, crack, and shatter. The wind blows the dust away.
The knife stops glowing. Lucius raises a brow, then leans in. "Where did you get that knife?"
"It was a gift from my friend after we finished our first job."
"May I see it?"
"Sure." Beryl hands the knife to Lucius.
Lucius carefully turns the blade over in his massive hands, squinting. "What was your friend’s name?"
As Lucius examines the knife, Beryl can see a signet ring on his hand. There is an odd symbol on the blade — small and inconspicuous amongst the nicks and scratches — that Beryl has never been able to decipher... but it matches the symbol on Lucius’s ring.
"My friend's name was Iris."
"Mm." This is Lucius's only reply. He hands the knife back to Beryl. "Interesting blade. Never seen anything like it." Lucius's gaze turns downwards, lingering on Victoria, before looking back up to Beryl again. "But... enough of that. I'm sure you have questions." He gestures to his ship -- upon which Beryl can see a few crew members peeking out. "If you are willing, I can take you to someone who can answer them. They live in New Trensidale, which is the last stop on my journey."
"Sounds like a good idea, I'm willing." Beryl retrieves their wakizashi and puts it back in its sheath.
Lucius nods. "Thank you. I realize that is a lot to ask of you, after all that has happened today."
On the ground, the Nekai serving girl shifts and stirs. Her eyes flutter open. "... B... Beryl-san? What..." She gets up on her elbows, and her eyes go wide.
Lucius begins walking towards his ship. "I'll tell the crew to get ready. If you have things, gather them and join me on board." There is a slight shake to his voice, but he keeps his composure as he makes a beeline for the dock.
Beryl approaches the serving girl. "Are you alright? As you can see, there was a bit of an accident."
She blinks, senses coming back to her. "What ... What happened? I just remember the ground shaking and then..." as she looks around, tears begin to well up in her eyes. She then looks up at Beryl, who is bruised, battered, and bleeding. Beryl wobbles slightly, and the edge of their vision goes white for a moment, but they regain their composure.
The girl reaches out and gently holds onto Beryl’s arm to keep them steady. "I ... I’ll be fine. You should be asking for help, not me." She looks down at Victoria, and out at the carnage once more. "Tam preserve us..."
"You've got a solid point, but I figured that I'd check on you since you just woke up after that. Glad to see that you're mostly okay too."
"H... Hai." She uneasily gets to her feet, then bows deeply. "I am in your debt, Beryl-san. My name is Tomoe. I..." as she looks Beryl up and down, she winces. "I will fetch you some bandages." She begins shuffling towards the town square, where impromptu medical aid is being provided.
Tomoe is surprisingly quick on their feet for someone who was unconscious just a minute ago. She returns with a bucket of water and some bandages. "That Lupii wanted you on his ship, yes? At least allow me to clean you up a bit before you have to go."
"I appreciate it."
Tomoe begins washing off the blood, and sweat and wraps bandages around the larger wounds. About a minute later, she finishes. "I'm not a healer, and goodness knows ours are working hard already... so be sure to get real medical help at the next port you sail into."
Beryl can see Lucius waving at them from the ship, beckoning them to get aboard. Tomoe spots the waving as well. She looks back up at Beryl. "Promise me you'll do that."
"I will, you don't need to worry."
Tomoe nods. "Go, then. I'm certain whatever that Lupii has planned for you is important. You've always done important things." She gives a weak smile.
Beryl starts to leave. "If nothing else, I hope that the people here are safe. All of you deserve it after today." They continue leaving.
Tomoe bows again. "Domo arigato, Beryl-san." She hurries off to help the other civilians, who have finished pulling out trapped people and are now focused on keeping everyone alive and conscious.
Lucius stands at the top of the gangplank. His imposing frame is offset by an obvious sadness in his eyes. As Beryl approaches, he nods. "Ready, then?"
"I am. Where should I stay while I'm here?"
"Below deck, there are quite a few empty beds. Take your pick." Lucius looks up and down at the hasty bandaging Beryl had received. "... and I’ll get one of my boys to patch you up more thoroughly."
"I appreciate it. I was also asked to get some more medical attention when we stop next, but anything we can do now helps."
"Mhm." Lucius gazes out at the village as the ship begins to move. After a few moments, he speaks up. "There’s a fine line between foolishness and bravery, Beryl. And I can tell you know that as well." Lucius looks down at Beryl once more. "Go get some rest. Tam knows we all deserve some."
The ship begins its gentle journey to its next destination. There was only one more stop before New Trensidale. Hopefully, there would be no interruptions or complications.
A black rat scuttles over Beryl's foot, before disappearing below deck.