Heart_Spam

An old tinkerer, distraught and at her wits' end by the recent happenings in Hyspia, wrung her hands and voiced sincere gratitude for the young men's diligence.

MC Name:

         Heart_Spam

Character's Name:

         Aude Applefoot

Character's Age:

         45

Character's Original Race (N/A if not applicable):

         Halfling

Transformed form:

         Zevnka

Creator's MC Name:

         Orphvius

Creator's RP Name:

         Júlianne

Briefly explain the lore behind this construct or creature:

Zevnka are creatures cursed by Naz'kuthun performed on small creatures such as halflings or sprites, or summoned from the Moz. They are mischievous little saboteurs, although not innately intelligent. Speech is very limited, and they are unable to concentrate on long-term tasks or complicated plans for a desired outcome, instead performing acts for the immediate trickery and gratification, and the creatures are prone to squabble. They are often used by the Naztherak to which they are bound to distract or harass.  

Although all Zevn are short, their stature differs from thin and gangly to stout; some bear wings (capable only of [5] blocks of height, and clumsy hovering at best; they cannot bypass defenses that are not otherwise accessible). some fur, some scales, some claws and horns, sharp teeth, or too few fingers. All are ugly and hideous, disgusting to look at. Their appetite is carnivorous; without meat, strength wanes and they become weak and sluggish.

Zevn may cast a ball of Malflame to 'spit' at an opponent, although it is no larger than a coin, and can otherwise conjure minute appearances of Malflame for aesthetic purposes.

If this construct or creature has some form of aesthetic choice, can you describe how they look? 

This cursed Zevn is a thin, scrawny creature, with gangly limbs and obtrusive, reversed knees. Their mouth is wide, crowded with far too many long teeth and a long, snake-like tongue that don't allow it to close, above which is set two narrow, squinty eyes. Curved, wicked horns spike from their forehead. Tattered, useless bats' wings extrude from their gnarly back and a barbed tail from their spine. Ripped patches of fur sporadically cover this sickly gray creature.

Do you have a magic(s) you are dropping due to this app? If so, link it:

         n/a

Do you agree to keep Story writers updated on the status of your magic app?:

         yes

Are you aware that if this creature is shelved, your character may be given the option to revert or be indefinitely shelved?

         yes

Memey RP or using this CA for subpar villain/bandit RP can lead to your app being denied, even after acceptance. Please put "I understand" as your response once you have read this part and understand the consequences.

         I understand

Have you applied for this creature on this character before, and had it denied? If so, link the app:

         No

MC Name:

         Heart_Spam

Character's Name:

         Thäna Ranaleth

Character's Age:

         41

Character's Race:

         Elf / cursed child

What magic(s) will you be learning?

         Housemagery

Teacher's MC Name:

         Nusti75

Teacher's RP Name:

         Yrmshik Fiyem

Do you have a magic(s) you are dropping due to this app? If so, link it:

         n/a

Do you agree to keep Story updated on the status of your magic app?:

         yes

Are you aware that if this magic is shelved, it will be unavailable to use?

         yes

Sound of Silence (Common | T3)

Background/Description

Those things one can see, one can touch and feel; they have texture. Rough. Smooth. Warm. Cold. Light. Dark. Not so with Sound. It is an ambiance created by surrounding things: crowds, oceans, gusts of wind, the lull of a melody, yet it cannot be seen. This is not to say it is not alive. As much a part of the natural material world as any other. To seek to capture Sound may seem a daunting task, for it is born on the wind, hushed by a whisper, thrown forth in an explosion. Erratic, strange, whimsical. A torrent bearing many things unheard, unable to be contained in its mighty waves. Or can it?

Craftsmen and artisans alike often seek to capture that which is intangible. Painters swathe brushes across canvas, musicians let notes fly with their instruments, tinkerers build from leftover bits of metal to create something new. They often seek to learn, to enhance, to capture, so that their works might become a better representation of the intangible. To capture Sound and to imbue it into a work of art, after much experimentation and failure, is an artisan’s next step towards the creation of their Greatest Piece. 

Recipe

Base: Oil

Mundane: Sound x3

Mundane: Connection x2

Air: Clarity x1

Air: Balance x2

Creation

• Reagents must be ground into powders using the Mundane method and Symbols must be separately extracted

• Sound and Connection are mixed into oil, which must then be brought to a boil

• The oil’s steam must be captured and allowed to condensate into a glass vial, at which point the powder containing Clarity is added

• NOTE: the vial can be stoppered until the next step; however, the next step must begin within the next 15 OOC minutes or the potion will fail

• The concoction must then be left open to the air containing the ambiance one desires to record; ex. The sea, a crowd’s murmur, birdsong, etc. for exactly one narrative hour.

• Too soon, and the Sound will fade as it hasn’t had time to properly set. Too late, and the Sound will become a tumult of air that shatters the vial and escapes.

• After this, the air within the bottle will begin to froth a grayish hue and vague depictions of the captured sound can be heard escaping

• Add Balance and cork the bottle. The frothing will settle into a clear vapor, as if the bottle is empty

To imbue on an object: 

• Both the object and the potion must be placed in a glass, airtight container, after which the potion must be opened to allow the Sound to escape. An effective method found is by tying a string to the cork and pulling it free.

• Although there is no visual evidence, one might be able to hear the faintest murmurings of their captured sound through the glass. As long as the object and escaped Sound remain enclosed for the duration of 5 emotes, the object will become imbued with the sound.

Effects

If opened: the captured ambient Sound will first release from the bottle in a muted, jumbled hiss of air, then escape over a series of 3 emotes, fading with each emote.

Imbued: the object will constantly carry a muted version of the initial captured Sound. Ex. a softer ambiance of waves crashing on the shore, or a quieter version of thunderclaps.

Redlines

• This potion can be represented by a player-signed object after adequate roleplay

• The alchemist must be silent during the potion’s creation (no speech, minimal noise of movement)

• Can NOT drown out other noises

• The effect is purely aesthetic and can NOT be used for harm

• Can NOT record specific words or phrases

• Can NOT be used to record teachings on any feats, magics, or lore

• Can only be applied to objects that can be held with two hands or smaller (ex. no imbuing CAs or becoming a walking jukebox…)

OOC Purpose

References

A Mutual Benefit

[!] One copy of the contract is given to each party.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-

Mutual Benefit: a contract or agreement in which both parties gain some type of advantage or value.

This agreement signifies the beginning of a mutually beneficial trade agreement between Sheikh Abdur al-Mona and his people, and Ida Nightingale. This agreement is purely of the trade outlined below and can not be taken to reflect any support of either party on other matters.

For the part of Sheikh Abdur al-Mona: provisions of hunters, their skillsets, and their knowledge of the land, for recovery of specific reagents requested by Ida Nightingale; in return for the services provided by said Ida Nightingale.

For the part of Ida Nightingale: provisions of medical and alchemical assistance; skilled labor in machinery and woodworking; in return for the services of the hunters provided by Sheikh Abdur al-Mona.

Signed,

SHEIKH, Abdur Razzeeq al-Mona

Sheikh of Al-Fahkri and The Banu Mona, Sword of Allah, Defender of the Qalasheen

Ida Nightingale

MC Name: Heart_Spam

Discord: heart_spam

Image: 

50eb7aec-0ff0-429a-bdc4-b1c927180c5d.tif

Description of Image: coat of arms

Dimensions: 1x1

MC Name:

         Heart_Spam

Character's Name:

         Ida Nightingale

Character's Age:

         90

Character's Race:

         Human

What magic(s) will you be learning?

         Bardmancy [A + W]

Teacher's MC Name:

         PestyWarlock

Teacher's RP Name:

         Farian Malto-Gylldene

Do you have a magic(s) you are dropping due to this app? If so, link it:

         No

Do you agree to keep Story updated on the status of your magic app?:

         Yes

Are you aware that if this magic is shelved, it will be unavailable to use?

         Yes

MC Name:

         Heart_Spam

Character's Name:

         Ida Nightingale

Character's Age:

         80's

Character's Race:

         Human

Link to your accepted MA:

         https://www.lordofthecraft.net/forums/topic/224855-alchemy-fa-heart_spam/?tab=comments#comment-1974646

What magic(s) will you be teaching?

         Alchemy

Describe this magic or a creature as a whole:

Alchemy in its broadest sense studies the material alphabet, which is a series of runes and symbols depicting components of the material world; energies and matter such as FIre, Water, Earth, Air, Aether. It is a deep study for understanding and knowledge of the world.

The craft is bound by logic and order and examines these signs and symbols within reagents harvested from the material world. These become the core ingredients to brewing and potion making, with their unique characteristics comprising the different uses for potions. Most often, reagents are in the form of botanical herbs, but can be other items as well (such as the deer heart used in Adunic Alchemy). 

There are three stages of alchemical potion making, called pillars:

Signs and Symbols

The first step is to study the reagents and the material world in order to identify the signs and symbols found in each. Signs are the primary identifier: Earth, Water, Air, FIre, Aether. Symbols are the secondary identifier, such as Coldness, Swiftness, Growth, Rigidity, etc.

Reagents and Processing

Once the signs and symbols within a reagent are able to be identified, it can undergo a process of extraction, in which the signs and symbols are sorted. There are six extraction methods: one for each Sign, plus Mundane. The extraction method used is dependent on the recipe for the final potion desired.

Potioncraft

After extraction, the desired signs and symbols are mixed with a base liquid or substance. This varies by recipe, although the more common bases are distilled water and aqua vitae. Again depending on the recipe, the potion’s final form can range from thin liquids to dry powder.

Are there different sections or subsections of magic? Can those be elaborated upon?

Alchemical recipes are divided into packs, such as Lector’s Alchemy Pack, Adunic Alchemy, Medical Pack I and II, etc. These packs add more study and versatility to Alchemy past the Core Alchemy potions, and offer a large range of potions to be learned. This enables rp groups such as medics to craft potions respective to their field.

Of these, potions can be sorted into three categories: Open, Rare, and Further Alchemy.

Open

As long as the alchemist reaches the required tier for the recipe, these recipes are common knowledge amongst alchemists and can be discovered through experimentation. Examples include Luminosity Potion and Flash Powder.

Rare

These recipes are not common knowledge. Their ingredients and concoction must be learned or received through proper RP. Even if one possessed a Rare potion, they would not be able to discover how it was made without being taught the recipe itself. Examples include Muritor Elixor and Hound’s Howl.

Further Alchemy

Further alchemy, such as Tawkins, requires T3 knowledge of base alchemy, and must be tracked through a separate feat application.

Can you give an example of a casting emote, of a spell of your choice?

Ida bustled about the small workshop, muttering to herself under her breath. Papers and notes were stacked haphazardly to clear a space on the wooden table, a space soon filled with a knife, an assortment of bowls, mortar and pestle, and three reagents: Sweet Rock, Nightglow, and Blood Lotus. 

The latter two were briefly set aside as the Sweet Rock was finely chopped and placed into the mortar, which Ida then ground into a fine powder. This first was transferred into the first bowl, after which both the knife and mortar and pestle were thoroughly cleaned and dried with a cloth. The alchemist repeated the process twice more, muttering to herself all the while; first chopping and grinding up the Nightglow, then doing the same with the Blood Lotus, sure to clean her tools between each round.

Upon having three bowls of reagent powder set before her, Ida examined each one closely, then reached for a bottle of aqua vitae. This was measured out and poured carefully over the powders, until each of the three bowls soaked in the liquid. While allowing the powdered reagents to soak, Ida stirred her fireplace and paced while waiting.

Once the reagents had soaked, Ida stationed each bowl carefully over the fire; not too close, as to burn it, nor too far away; but just close enough to allow the bowls to heat and, eventually, boil. Ida watched the reagents carefully; and the moment all liquid was boiled away and only powder remained, she wrapped her hands with a cloth and snatched the bowls away from the fire, setting them back upon the worktable.

Here, she began to sort. Extraction was mundane; only symbols remained, and Ida used a small spoon to group these into piles. Those she needed for this potion were moved to one side of the table; the rest, to the other, for next time’s use. Upon picking out the required symbols, Ida turned then towards the final steps - mixing the desired potion.

She retrieved a bottle of distilled water, which was poured into its own clean bowl and placed high over the fire. Not to boil, simply to heat. Two measures of Life, one of Swiftness and one of Vigour were then born to the bowl and carefully mixed in until the liquid turned a brilliant red. Ida continued mixing until the color was solid, at which she halted stirring and removed the bowl from the heat to let cool.

Can you give an example of a teaching-emote (interacting with another) of a spell of your choice?

“Take notes; you’ll need them,” Ida remarked as she laid a thick, blank book in front of her student, and slid a bottle of ink across the table along with it. Her head tilted oddly, she tapped the wooden table briskly to emphasize her words. “Use this to note your experiments, your learning, your processes; alchemy is full of discovery and precision, and to hope to remember it all until you are more well versed with practice is near impossible.”

Ida waited until the student had taken the book and flipped it open to the first fresh page, quill in hand, before she commenced the first lesson. She spread pre-prepared signs and symbols upon the table for examination and study, meticulously placing them in individual piles. Three Air: Grace, two Earth: Dark, and two Mundane Separation. 

“Listen well, and do not be shy to ask questions - misusing what is learned can lead to detrimental explosions, burns, or worse. Alchemy, as I’ve told you, is the study of the material world; of matter. There are three core pillars to this study; Signs and Symbols, Reagents and Processing, and Potioncraft.” Ida placed three wooden spoons in a line on the table before her student; the handle of each spoon rested on the head of the spoon before it, to illustrate her point. “Each rests on the success of the former. Today we will learn the differences between Signs and Symbols and their purpose, with later lessons studying the others.”

At this, Ida placed Hiding Moss on the table and watched closely to ensure her student was taking notes as directed. She took a pause for any preliminary questions before continuing. “You may know these as medical herbs, used for medicines or salves; that is true, but they are also reagents, each bearing individual alchemical properties. These are called Signs and Symbols, and vary from reagent to reagent. Signs are the primary identifier and are split between the primary elements; Fire, Earth, Water, Air, Aether. Each is extracted through a different process, which will be learned later. Signs always have a symbol attached to them. Symbols are the secondary identifier, discovered also through extraction, and different symbols are tied to different reagents.”

Ida took one of the three spoons on the table and flipped it around, pointing out with the handle each of the piles of signs and symbols she’d previously laid out. She named each pile as she went, pointing out the difference in appearance between the sorted piles. “Some reagents hold more symbols than others, and some symbols, if the mundane extraction method is used, are not attached to a sign at all. Over time, you will learn all of the signs and symbols, and will learn to sort and identify them yourself.”

Say your student powergames during or after teaching, how do you reprimand that?

If powergaming occurs during teaching, I will halt the rp to clarify any questions and to find the root of the problem; whether that be my teaching, their learning, or something else. It will then be discussed and re-taught to ensure the lore and limits are understood before continuing. The goal is to resolve any concerns during the teaching period.

If powergaming occurs after teaching and they fail to heed any further warnings, they would be reported to staff.

Do you have a magic(s) you are dropping due to this app? If so, link it:

         No

Do you agree to keep the ST updated on the status of your magic app?:

         Yes

Have you applied to teach this magic on this character before, and had it denied? If so, link the app.

         No

MC Name:

         Heart_Spam

Character's Name:

         Thäna Ranaleth

Character's Age:

         27

Character's Race:

         Elf

What magic(s) will you be learning?

         Seer

Teacher's MC Name:

         monkelives

Teacher's RP Name:

         Ava

Do you have a magic(s) you are dropping due to this app? If so, link it:

         No

Do you agree to keep Story updated on the status of your magic app?:

         Yes

Are you aware that if this magic is shelved, it will be unavailable to use?

         Yes

Gentle water lapped against the sand rising from its depths, carrying the call of the sea into the little cove. The overhang carved from stone and dripping with cool, damp moss trapped the wind pulling in, settling the air with its chill.

Thäna shuddered. The sound of the waves was mocking in its serenity. Calling out in that sweet, deceitful voice not to worry: only to come crashing in, beating over the shore at the first hint of a storm. The Child hated everything about it. The blue. The gentle whispers of the waves. The foreboding depths that would stretch on and on, beyond sight. The terrible storms with their crashing rain and oppressive torrents. But she wasn’t here for that - to bask in fear. The Matriarch’s words struck her once more, turned over in her mind. One day, perhaps, she could take ownership of the sea. She was here to learn, to observe, to seek the answers for the quest set upon her. Thäna scooted back in her seat on the sand, tucking her feet beneath her. The waves had lapped a little too close and wet the hem of her skirt; it irritated her, and she picked at the sand now stuck to it with long, black claws that itched for action past observance.

It was impossible to count the number of days Thäna sat there, in the same spot tucked just inside the cove, watching the waves’ rhythm with an anguish that ached for them to change their symphony. She could have chosen anywhere to watch; the forest, perhaps, with its ever-changing shadows and weird noises lurking just out of sight. There was a thrill in the forest. An adventure. Or the mountain tucked beyond the birch forest - the one she’d once clawed her way up. It had taken every ounce of strength and many rests, clinging to the mountainside. To fall would likely have meant death. There were birds, rabbits. Uninteresting and timid. It was all for the Search. Which brought her, more often than not, back to the cove, back to the water. Crimson expression twisted in disgust every time the salt spray hit her nostrils. Silver eyes mirrored the shimmering reflections the sun cast on the water; but where the view before Thäna seemed inherently peaceful, the Child’s own look bore one of lingering apprehension.

Most days, there was nothing but the occasional bird - great herons swooping down, or eagles circling high above, mere black specks against the sky - or the floods of fish that would make tracks just beneath the surface, winding and swimming and bumping into each other. Sometimes, a deer or a fox would trot down from the forests. But they were skittish, and would dart or slink away the moment the Child realized they were there. 

There had been a dolphin, once, come to pay a visit. The creature was a welcome change to the mundane. Its form leapt and danced in a glistening, majestic glide, breaking the water and plunging seamlessly under the surface once more. Effortless. Thäna watched, observing intently; wondering if her cursed form could bear that same effortlessness. That same admirable amount of control.

Standing, Thäna brushed long, inky locks of loose hair back from her face and tied it with a thin string at the nape of her neck. Silver gaze never wavered from its intense watch on the unassuming dolphin’s movements, not until it had turned and fully disappeared beneath the gentle, shimmering waves. The Child toed the sand, pushing the shells around with a shoe, then took a few steps back. Remaining well away from the water’s edge, Thäna jumped, attempting to mimic the dolphin’s graceful leap through the air. Awkward, clumsy, and bound by gravity, she landed poorly and stumbled. Again. She leapt again, with little other success. 

It was some time before Thäna paused, panting, sweaty and tired. Hands placed on her knees as she stared at the sand, feet half-buried and hair falling past her shoulders in tangled curtains. What good was jumping if that was all? Jumping would not help in a fight, except to confuse her enemy into thinking she was a fool, perhaps. Lips twisted down into a frown, clawed hands fiddled and clacked against one another with irritation. Slowly, she withdrew a dagger from its sheath carefully tucked away at her side. A small, delicate dagger, a gift from her aunt. The Child turned it over in her hands, watching the light’s reflective glimmer and contemplating its spectrum of destruction. She tossed it upwards - it twisted in the air and plunged right back into the sand. She plucked it from the earth and threw it. The dagger whistled, plopping to the ground just a few short feet away - the throw had been awkward, half-intentional, and scarcely carried the distance Thäna had desired. As she trotted across the sand to retrieve it, she wondered. To throw the dagger, to make it leap as the dolphin had, would fulfill that one goal - but in addition, it would leave her defenseless. She would be throwing out her defense. Turning to cast silver gaze back on the sea’s mirrored surface, she sought the dolphin for guidance, but it had long since vanished, leaving the young one to her own devices.

But then what? She preferred too much to remain still and silent than to leap out with grand movements like the dolphin’s. Thäna flung her arms wide, gifted dagger falling from a clawed hand to plunge into the sand, and the Child’s arms dropped back to her sides as she slumped back to her seat. No, no, leaping and dancing in a fight would not do. So open and carefree. Thäna was far too cautious; her instincts to hide and her aunt’s teachings would never allow a style so exposed.

The day was muddy, the sky clouded with thick rolls of dark cotton. There was no wind; the air was so thick and oppressive that even the sound of the Child’s breathing was swallowed whole and lost in the air. The water in the cove sat still and glassy with a formidable silence that threatened a storm. A black and red and grey form knifed across the beach, desperate to return to shelter before the first large drops could fall. Movement caught Thäna’s eye and she halted. Perhaps the rain would hold for a moment more. A thin, waving line streaked through the water, almost imperceptibly breaking its smooth surface. The movement darted towards a frog resting on a stone by the shoreline, not ten feet from where Thäna stood. Suddenly the silvery streak rent through the water disappeared and a dark, diamond head popped up to take its place, watching the frog.

Thäna had seen it too; had earlier tried to mimic with her knife the way the amphibian’s tongue snapped out and caught a fly. Now she froze, breath caught and shallow in her throat as a stark silver gaze leveled on the water snake stalking the frog. Suddenly, it attacked, striking out with a swiftness that could scarcely be watched. Then it was gone, disappeared with its prey. The Child blinked, stiff with wonder - and then the first great drops of rain pattered from the angry heavens. She ran to escape them.

Back within the safe walls of the Ranaleth home, the Cursed One paced. Shoes padded back and forth against the wooden floor, carrying her in a thin waving line across the room before she’d turn and retrace it. Stealthy, quiet as possible, practicing the Unseen. Clawed fingers scrubbed water from the twisted horns perched jauntily atop her head and squeezed clear rivulets from her hair, rivulets that would turn to crimson puddles when a strand broke. Silver eyes flashed and slitted with morbid frustration, intent in thought on finding the Answer. No - she would not find it. She’d make it. That was it.

· • -- ٠ ✤ ٠ -- • ·

The breath’s journey began with the cry of a newborn. A rowdy, tousle-haired baby finding its voice during its first moments in this world. Over the days, the cry morphed to laughter - a rousing ringing echoing through the halls. The breath continued, accompanied by pattering feet down long hallways, shifting into a myriad of questions and jest. Like a wild rose bush, the breath grew; wild, tangled with a thousand emotions, everchanging. Short, harried, sweet, tense, a long exhale of peace. A sigh lifted on the wings of the wind. A lingering voice faded into quiet laughter. 

The breath danced along the winding path, light and airy, cheerful, darting through the shadows that attempted to snuff it out and slipping through the grasp of overgrown brush seeking to ensnare. The path wound backwards and forwards, crested deep chasms and climbed over grassy hillsides until it bore the breath at last to a wide, green valley, filled with an emerald carpet of forest. A valley where the breath floated carefree, a leaf beckoned by the breeze, until it morphed into one last, cheerful laugh as it danced upwards into the sky. There, at last, it dissipated, only the lingering memory of the breath’s long journey remaining in the one left behind.

· • -- ٠ ✤ ٠ -- • ·

The sun shone high above two figures resting in a field patterned with vibrant hues - reds, yellows, blues and purples - woven into the grassy carpet. They sought shade beneath a large oak tree, one that was more than happy to spread its leafy branches over the two gathered at its roots. The first - taller, strong, and bound with stoicism - helped the second - a wan, frail lady who looked upon the world with undiminished vigor - to sit and lean against the welcoming trunk despite the latter’s stubborn admonitions.

A knowing look displayed on the frail one’s face, a visage wrinkled with age and curtained by wispy, silvery tufts of wild hair. There was no fear there, only peace, as she chattered thoroughly and gesticulated with a veiny hand when sparse breaths did not allow her to articulate. A thousand stories, a thousand memories, all merged and unified and knitted into a conversation between the two companions, softening into a woven, lingering smile.

Weary emerald eyes drooped shut, kissed by the sun filtering through the oak tree’s canopy overhead. A hand rested over that of her friend’s, the one who sat with her, talked with her, had walked through so much of life with her. With one last smile, a whispered ‘thank you,’ a last exhale danced with the lady’s spirit hand in hand into the heavens.

Though death now caressed the wrinkled, gentle face, Nisreen’s shine was none the less bright.

· • -- ٠ ✤ ٠ -- • ·

MC Name:

         Heart_Spam

Character's Name:

         Thäna Ranaleth

Character's Age:

         5

What feat(s) will you be learning?

         Blessed Child of Ixris

Teacher's MC Name:

         Timberbuff

Teacher's RP Name:

         Sarryn

Do you agree to keep Story updated on the status of your feat app?:

         Yes

Have you applied for this feat on this character before, and had it denied? If so, link the app:

         No

Are you aware that if this feat is shelved, it will be unavailable to use?

         Yes

Word of Mehreen's death reached Nisreen by murmurs, hushed mumblings, whispers, hints of rumors mixed with other names carried from mouth to mouth. But Nis knew it must be true; so many had been lost these past few days. Weeks. A candle - Nis searched for a candle. Unable to find one amidst the helter skelter of the Under, Nisreen grappled to make do with what little she had. A few threads plucked from her garments, twisted tightly and tucked into a small crevice in a rock. It wasn't perfect, but it would do. She struck a match to light the threads, surrounded by acrid, desolate darkness on every side. They burned quickly, flaring up with brief flame before they were gone. Ironic - hers and Mehreen's friendship had been just like that flame.Strong, yet short-lived. "Rest well, Mehreen," she whispered to the crevice, before turning away to continue her search for those she hoped remained. 

---

When the moment came, Zahra watched as Mehreen and Shams entered Jannah, and raced forward to greet them both with her signature beaming smile and open arms. "Be at peace ya rabbs." There'd be no more wooden-weapon burning here.

Some days had passed before Ida, now the last remaining Nightingale, braved the stench (and her brother's wrath) of Kendrick's quarters. She'd thought it was an infestation - either of mice or mold - and stood unmoving as the door creaked open to reveal such was not the case. After a moment, Ida straightened, hands twitched, as she reached for her medical bag. She thought him dead once and he had returned - surely, he would do the same again. 

But all efforts were in vain; not even the most skilled herbalist could combat Death's final judgement. Surrounded by medicines, herbs, and bandages strewn in disarray, Ida slumped to the floor in the corner, arms wrapped about her knees. Only her incoherent mumblings broke the heavy silence as she rocked back and forth, keeping vigil in hopes Kendrick would wake.

Zahra bint Hakim al-Hattan welcomed her dear cousin (who had quite surpassed her in the longevity department-) into Jannah with her signature bright smile and open arms.

AHHHH the memories T.T - awesome video!!

MC Name:

         Heart_Spam

Character's Name:

         Ida Nightingale

Character's Age:

         50s

What feat(s) will you be learning?

         Alchemy

Teacher's MC Name:

         KaptainScarlet

Teacher's RP Name:

         Scarlet

Do you agree to keep Story updated on the status of your feat app?:

         Yes

Have you applied for this feat on this character before, and had it denied? If so, link the app:

         No

Are you aware that if this feat is shelved, it will be unavailable to use?

         Yes

In continued celebration of the new Emir, the Grand Emirate of the Mountain Oasis will host a series of tournaments, in which all members of the tribes and allies alike are invited to partake. Each tournament highlights skills prized by the people of the desert: strength, tenacity, speed and dexterity.

Tournament brackets will include:

Oil Wrestling

Boat Racing

Archery

Winners of each bracket will be awarded a prize and be proclaimed champion of the respective sport.

Throughout the decades, the Qalasheen farfolk have seen many different eras, many different leaders appointed by Allah to guide these simple folk through the harsh constraints of the desert. A few devout men huddled in a Majlis tucked away in a larger city. The leader of a great nation risen in the desert, determined to make the last stand before Atlas fell and its inhabitants were forced to flee. Four tribes and their sheikhs banded together, making their simple way of survival in what little they could gather, until the tribes grew, flourished, erupted in richness and grandeur before an earthquake scattered the tribes once more. Most recently, the construction of an oasis upon an otherwise unforgiving mountainside, slowly bringing back the camaraderie and prowess ingrained amongst the Qalasheen people.

Amongst this last, the tribes’ members are delighted to celebrate the passing of authority: from Sheikh Amaar al-Habib to the newly appointed Lujain al-Jabir, whose presence and influence will mark the end of one chapter, and the opening of another chapter of history that has yet to be written. A blank sheet spread open; pen poised to mark down this next chapter in the Oasis' tumultuous history.

News spreads around the Oasis of the upcoming shift in leadership and riders are sent across the lands, bearing word of the new Emir’s annunciation and invitations to share this time of feasting and celebration. Decorations are brought from the dusty compartments and cleaned, bright colors stream with the wind, and celebratory music wafts through and covers all within the mountain region. With the rise of Emir Lujain al-Jabir, so too the people he devotedly leads are expected to rise once more.

Invitations

The Kingdom of Balian and its citizens

 The Kingdom of Haenseni-Ruska and its citizens

The Kingdom of Aaun and its citizens

The Viceroyalty of Hyspia and its citizens

The Principality of Nor’asath and its Citizens

The Fishing Guild of Almaris and its members 

The Li-Ren community and its members

Personal Invitations

Baron Gaius Rosius var Ruthern and his esteemed pedigree

Lord Kasimir Sarkozic and his esteemed pedigree

Count Jan Ivanovich and his esteemed pedigree

Counter Peter of Arkent and his esteemed pedigree

Cardinal Teodosio Tyria

Sheikh Amaar al-Habib

Lujain al-Jabir

[A depiction of a member of the tribe hunting with his falcon.]

As the winter months began to draw to a close in the Mountain Oasis, cooler temperatures receded like the ocean’s tide, the first leaders of migrating flocks returning have been sighted, and wildlife began to creep out of hiding amongst the rocks and hills of the mountain ranges. 

With the first fleeting hints of winter’s end, predator and prey alike braved forth in search of food, starved from long months of scarcity amongst the mesa’s already harsh, deserted climate. A great clamor arose amongst the Mountain Oasis as flocks appeared to straggle, slowly diminish. Individually, members of the tribe caught foxes, small desert wolves, and other predators seeking out prey amongst their pens - but still the ghostly onslaught continued. What would happen if the disappearances among their flock moved to their children, their youth, their brothers and sister? Something must be done to preserve the sanctity of the Oasis, and therefore a call went out amongst the muqeem for a Hunt to take place, to withhold rest until the culprits were found and dealt with.

Word spread, and brothers and sisters alike bustled with activity in preparation for the upcoming Hunt. Blades were sharpened, arrows fashioned, bows restrung. Pens were closed, more closely guarded, 'til what devilry attacking the flocks was caught.

Recent split still fresh in her mind, a mind wrought with disarray and guilt, Nisreen paced frantically about her little home. Otherwise empty rooms, lanterns turned out, drenched in darkness. What little light seeped in from the crack in the wall was diffused by guilt, blurred by tears as the notice fell from her hands to that scuffed floor. 

"You had dreams, ambitions, ya qalbi-" she choked on the words whispered, that and the sound of boots the only thing that broke the harsh silence. "You could have done great things. Why did you throw it all away? I should have-"

She should never have left him.

How many more times would she be the inadvertent cause of someone's death?

A dark candle loomed before her, prepared to be lit, to let the memories and mourning burn with the flame. Unable to find solace in the ritual, Nisreen let the match drop, turned for the door, and sought elusive peace amongst the trees, pounding into the earth, lost in a mind absent from it's surroundings for some time. 

Grief descended over Nisreen like a cloud, a heavy blanket of anguish as she read, then reread, the note that had appeared on her doorstep. An ominous note that had filled her with dread the moment her door had creaked open. She held the note in trembling hands, until the ink blurred across the page. 

To have loved Plume as her own child, it now felt as if she'd lost one of her own. Breath escaped in strangled gasps; ears thundered from the blood rush of a panicked heartbeat. Her knees hit the harsh ground, yet Nisreen failed to feel the contact. She ached to comfort, to hold Plume in her arms once more, to assure her it would be alright, and she would have the strength to continue on. There was no comforting the deceased.

The head of a match grated against stone - once, twice, before it clattered to the floor. Nisreen knelt, fumbled for it, fumbled to strike it again and again until at last a thin, wavering flame sprang up, which she held to the wick of a candle. And she watched the candle burn, reminiscing over every moment she'd spent with Plume, and struggling to console her own grief. "I will always love you too, 7abibti."

Upon hearing of the news of her brother-in-law's passing, Nisreen slowly rose, procured a candle, yet unlit. Somber gaze lingered on the darkened wick as she struck a match, let the orange flame erupt into a dancing light from which all shadows in the dim room fled. A celebration of a fellow Paladin's journey. That newly lit candle was placed amongst others that had long since waned into puddles of melted wax, the new candle's flame commemorating Elend's life and passing. Precious seconds ticked by as Nisreen lingered, watching the candle flicker, before she at last drew her cloak about her shoulders and stepped out the door. There was one other she needed to find.