Thread: [CLOSED] Pulp Inc. Presents: Thrilling Tales of the New Continent! [Deante & Lasciel]

Of course the commander wanted her to make water. It was probably her least favorite task, and after weeks on a ship with the crew treating her at times like a glorified well, Siona had been looking forward to doing literally anything else. What was the point in going to school for biology if all folks wanted was water? But the rational part of her understood the reasoning, even if it rubbed her ego's fur the wrong way. She made no effort to mask her distaste, but nodded all the same. Her pride was at least slightly mollified by her second task, and she hoped Anlen would have something more interesting for her to do than chant at the sea until they filled their barrels. He had seemed a likable enough fellow during the voyage, and if their areas of research weren't quite the same, there was enough overlap between her botany and his herbalism that they could carry on an intelligent conversation for many hours on a given subject. Of course, that made no guarantees that he wouldn't simply turn around and ask her for more water. But it bolstered her hopes, at least. The fox found herself running off to get the water-working done with as soon as possible, and it wasn't until she'd filled the first barrel that she remembered that she had intended to tell Tasa about Omani and Romandi and Kanjalli. Of course, it sounded as if the camp had already had one run-in with the latter, and given that they were now asking her to make water it seemed clear it had been their only attempt. Still, it seemed prudent to give both warning about the river's potential wrath, and to pass on the secret of how to buy the river-spirit's favor. Or at least to let her people know that there were sentients in the area, so that hopefully nobody would catch anyone else unawares. She had been fantastically lucky that Omani had been of the kind to explain rather than exenterate in response to their folly, but Siona was worried the next encounter between the two groups might not be as peaceable. Unfortunately, she found herself too busy during the rest of the day, and too exhausted besides, to find another chance to talk to Anlen. She found herself paired with a hulking from her perspective mink of few words, and try as she might Siona seemed unable to make an impression on the stern mink. Worse, she had caught herself staring at the other's scars, and worse than that, knew she'd been caught. Razel, of course, hadn't said anything, but her icy blue eyes had made her impression of the fox all-too-clear. Of course, Siona wasn't going to let herself be bullied by Razel, but it certainly put a damper on any sort of pleasant chat she would've hoped to have while they worked. For her own part, Razel found the afternoon tolerable, if only barely so. For the afternoon she'd been put in charge of the camp's newest refugee, a tiny from her perspective arctic fox who seemed incapable of staying quiet for more than a few minutes at a time. The assignment gave her a chance to get a bit of distance from the camp, and, if she was lucky, to finally see some of the exotic monsters that supposedly prowled the forests. Instead, she spent the day trailing after Siona, who seemed content to plod along at a snail's pace stopping to inspect nearly every leaf she saw. Given that it was the jungle, it made for a lot of leaves, and very little actual distance covered. By the end, Razel was certain she'd ground through her own teeth in frustration. When the duo returned to camp, Siona triumphantly carrying a half-sackful of musty-smelling mosses she was certain Anlen could pack wounds with, to reduce the odds of infection. Of course, the trek reminded her again that there were locals here, who likely knew far more of what flora and fauna were useful for treating wounds. She made yet another mental note to bring the matter up the next day, as she quietly parted ways with the stoic mink. After bringing the sack to Anlen, and explaining that she was pretty sure there was more if she had more hands at her disposal, she went in search of a tent. Nothing was ready just yet, and she found herself directed to searching the rummage pile of things that had been recovered from the ship but not yet purposed, in the meanwhile. Siona retrieved her spellbook, and tapped her now-flagging magical energy for a simple spell to detect magic. It would make searching the pile for anything she cared about much easier. In fact, she found her own trunk though much worse for the wear after only a few minutes of slowly scanning the pile with her gaze, diving practically head-first into the pile and resurfacing with the battered black case. Even now it sloshed with water and a gentle tinkling of broken glass. Steeling herself for disappointment, Siona threw the case open, and found what she'd feared a water-logged mess. Her books were likely ruined, the ink run and gone and the paper sodden and disintegrating. Almost all of her sample vials were shattered, those which were still whole all proving to have a crack or nick somewhere that Siona feared would develop into a full-blown fracture with even a little bit of jarring. But her other tools were still there and whole several pairs of tweezers, clippers, and tiny knives, her spare clothing, more charcoal pencils, a few magical foci, as well as some personal effects that hadn't minded the violent thrashing and the soaking in the sea. To drive the water from it all was easy enough, to drive the salt and grit was a bit harder, but not by much. She dumped what she didn't care to keep back in a pile, then dragged the trunk to the approximate spot where she intended to pitch her tent. After dinner and some light socializing, Siona finally received said tent and set about making for herself something passable as a den , arraying the small collection of personal effects around the cramped space. But despite the early start to her day, she didn't feel yet ready to turn in. So, Siona exited the tent once more, and pondered what else she could accomplish in the gloom of the night. After that, things grew... fuzzy. Razel found herself nearly as restless as Siona, denied what she considered a hard day's work to instead play babysitter to a bontanist. Of course, she understood especially after seeing Anlen's response how important the fox's work had been, but that didn't stop it from being boring, nor did it stop her from finding the fox's personality insufferable. She took, then, to performing some calisthenics, both to burn off energy and to help maintain her warrior's physique. Thus, she was awake to spot the flash of brilliant white moving through the periphery of her vision, a compact figure she immediately recognized. She would've ignored it, except that it appeared the idiotic fox was headed out of the camp, and with no escort besides. When she had made absolutely sure that she saw what she thought she was seeing, Razel quietly swore to herself, stood up, wiped the sweat from her brow, and began to trot in Siona's direction. W-who are you? Siona asked, feeling oddly groggy. Did she recognize him? Yes, she suppose she did in the chaos of the day they had met over lunch or was it dinner?, but for the life of her she couldn't recall his name. He certainly seemed to know hers , for how he crooned it so alluringly. And she had followed, like an idiot! Hadn't Tasa excoriated them all about the importance of staying in a group ? Her head felt filled with mothballs, and she shook herself in an effort to clear them out. And then she found the thought she'd been seeking. This is a compulsion. Suddenly, several things seemed to happen at once. Siona raised her hands to cast, beginning to unspindle one of the few spells she'd bothered to actually prepare that morning, still expended and waiting in her memory. Something or someone crashed crashed through the bushes behind her. And the very handsome, very naked wolf before her turned to bolt. She caught him with the tail end of her spell, but Siona knew it was ineffective when he continued to move. At least it was movement away from her, freeing her to turn around and stare at whoever had approached from behind. She came face-to-chest with almost six feet of sweaty, pumped-up mink, and stumbled backwards in surprise. Razel, for her part, moved to go around the now-fallen Siona and pursue the last flash of gray she could see. Within moments, though, she lost track of the wolf, and returned wearing a glare even more stern than when she'd caught Siona staring at her scars. For her part, all the fox could do was push herself to her feet and try to explain. She got as far as the word compelled before Razel stalked off towards the camp, fire in her eyes. Siona scampered after, wondering where the mink was going. When they arrived at the far side of the camp, and Razel rounded on an unsuspecting Durun, Siona's eyes went wide. She yelled out for the mink to stop, spoiling the element of surprise and drawing the pair some unwanted attention. Razel gruffly asked Durun where he'd been just now, skeptical about his claims to have been right there, but was calmed when his companions backed up his statement. Siona only shook her head she had only needed to even see Durun standing casually and clothed to know that he hadn't been the perpetrator. How could someone run, get dressed, and appear so relaxed in such a short span? The situation settled even if no apologies were actually issued, the two females parted away again to head to their respective tents. For Siona's own part, she quickly fell into a deep slumber, aided by the poor sleep she'd had the night prior. Razel continued to stare at the ceiling of her tent for some time, trying to make sense of what she'd seen. --- After a much-dreaded breakfast of even-more-fish and even-more-hardtack, Siona made her way to Tasa's tent and waited her turn until the wolf was free. Once inside, and with greetings handled, she went through the thoughts she hadn't gotten a chance to voice the day prior. Lerron and I encountered two of the locals on our way here. We washed up on a beach a few miles back that-a-way, Siona paused to gesture in the direction she'd crossed the river the day prior, and made the mistake of trying to cross the river. I don't know if anyone saw him when we arrived, but we were escorted nearly to the camp by a male named Romandi, and the day prior we were helped by a female named Omani. They both appeared to be some sort of... jungle cat. They seemed to know a lot about the area, implied there was a larger tribe, and gave us some pertinent warnings about the river. It has a spirit, or so they call it, but the more important part is that the river appears to have some sort of magical defenses that respond well to gifts. The fox continued, gesturing vaguely as she went. I was able to find one promising species of moss yesterday, for Anlen, but I suspect these locals may know more about the flora and fauna around here and their uses. I would like to go back and look for Omani and Romandi's tribe, assuming there hasn't already been an effort at contact. We may be able to get a better idea of the lay of the land here, and find a more sustainable food source, besides. Of course, Siona would've been fine eating fish until the end of her days, but she suspected some of the other people at the camp wanted for a more varied diet. Her voice dropped, as she continued. This was the part she was less sure about. I also had something... odd, happen to me, last night. I think someone tried to charm me... magically speaking. Siona added, looking pensive. Razel caught the end of it. It looked like someone I knew, but, then I got back to the camp, and he was here, and it all didn't add up quite right. Has this happened to anyone else?