Airships Over Aranor 13

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Well, let's join the two Neshoba who are traveling together in the city of Rysinth. We now join Raoclem and Aurica..uh...

Wait, that isn't the two I was talking about at all. Oh well, I suppose we could watch them for a moment. Raoclem is currently in Rysinth for mysterious reasons of his own; I may as well give a little bit of background information on him. He is a Choneiji; as has been mentioned before, the word very roughly translates to 'prophet'. However, Aranor is entirely without a concept of deity, as you may have surmised based on events and conversation so far. The Choneiji (the plural is the same as the singular) are seven Shadow Fang Neshoba who all have the same spell, or at least a set of extremely similar spells with only slight nuances separating them. This collection of spells allow one to communicate directly with a collective entity known as The Spirits. They are the closest thing to a deity Aranor has, but they neither inspire nor request any form of worship whatsoever beyond basic respect.

The Spirits are the souls of the dead, and their existence is conclusive proof that the people of Aranor actually have something called a "soul" separate from their bodies (not that there isn't proof elsewhere). Souls are suspected to be extremely dense concentrations of magical energy, though this does not explain why having one imparts sentience and self-awareness. Some elves have even displayed the ability to briefly use their own souls as fuel sources for their magic, and using only a very small fraction of an even smaller fraction of its potential done things that were thought absolutely too much to be possible. When people die (except for Ekim with their soul-weapons currently drawn), their souls are released from their bodies; for reasons not properly understood, disembodied souls tend to be attracted to one another, and form some kind of collective consciousness whose awareness somehow appears to transcend time somewhat. While it is accurate to say that everyone appears to go to the same afterlife--as a member of The Spirits--upon death, it is entirely unclear what this is like; there is speculation that the morally good will find integration considerably more pleasant than the morally evil, but the jury is still out on that point. Though The Spirits are a collective entity, there is some evidence the individual souls do not lose their individuality by becoming a part of the whole.

The Spirits speak to Choneiji of the past and the future, and the Choneiji use their discretion to decide which pieces of information to pass on to who. It is a weighty responsibility, but Raoclem is relatively young and has an unusual outlook for a Choneiji to help him bear it. Usually there are seven Choneiji; in exceptional cases there are less. Each Choneiji is understood to be assigned to a single Clan of the Neshoba, except for the youngest, the wandering one, who is supposed to take care of anyone not covered by the other seven and see as much of the world as he or she can before an inevitable death succeeds him or her to one of the other positions. The Choneiji of the Shadow Fang is invariably the most powerful, though not necvessarily the oldest; that one discards his or her original name and becomes known only as "Ichoneiji", literally "THE Choneiji", which is quite possibly the most honored and respected title the Neshoba have available, at least equal to that of "Grand Alpha".

The powers of a Choneiji are not restricted to fully Shadow Fang Neshoba (or indeed even full Neshoba) and Raoclem takes only half his heritage from that Clan. The other half he takes from the Yellow Moon, the polar opposite of the Shadow Fang. (Verra has a little Yellow Moon in her as well, in case you were wondering.) Those of the Yellow Moon Clan usually have spells relating to physical light, though a few have had spells of the opposite side of the coin, which give shadows physical existence and make use of them. The Clan's traditional attitude can be summed up in four words: Life is a game. To expound, hunting is a game; eating is a game; battle is a game; conversation is a game; raising children is a game; everything is a game. They tend to have a very positive outlook on life, preferring to be good sports. After all, everyone loses the game of survival sooner or later, so you might as well enjoy the playing.

His companion is Aurica, a White Grass woman who once taught Charlotte a thing or two about swords and tales. I don't care to go into detail about this Clan just yet, since I just got through introducing another, but suffice to say that they love to mess with people. Aurica currently has human-looking ears (possible due to White Grass magic, which again I shall explain eventually) and is wearing a bright kimono that hides her tail, which together make her look like a human to most onlookers. She also has a sheathed katana, her weapon of choice, concealed in the robes. The two are presently standing in the streets near the hospital where the crewmembers of the Farran are receiving or have received treatment. "So," she says, leaning against a wall with her arms crossed, "What are we waiting here for?"
"We are waiting to see something truly unbelievable. Well, you're waiting for that anyway. I'm waiting to experience it."
"Then we can get back to my story?"
"Yep." They wait a good two or three minutes in a silence made less awkward by the general noise of the streets around them. Then Edward walks out of the hospital.

He is the last one out, having volunteered to help stabilize a severely injured orc until more of the hospital staff proper was available to help her out. He washed his hands off, but his shirt still has a few flecks of dried blood on it. He sees Raoclem with an apparently-human companion he doesn't recognize, walks calmly up to the two and then a pace or so from the front of the Choneiji. Then he deliberately draws a fist back and punches him in the mouth. Hard. Raoclem is knocked down and back by the blow, but recovers quickly and sits up. Edward, shaking his hand in an effort to alleviate the painful effects of the equal-but-opposite rule, says, "You are lucky I am not predisposed to violent outbursts. That would have hurt considerably more."
The Choneiji takes it well; in fact, he laughs. "Hehehahah! Wasn't that great?" He's asking the question of his friend, who just grins.

"I suppose it was, but I'm not sure I see what was so unusual about it. Especially considering your reputation."
"Are you kidding? How often do you get to see a Blue Tail lose his cool, eh?"
Edward raises an eyebrow while the woman helps Roaclem up. "Is stereotyping wrong, or are all persons of mixed heritage prone to mental deficiency and emotional confusion?"
"Ooooo, that's a low blow. What was that for, anyway?"
"You sent a dragon to attack our ship. You gave a fire dragon a prediction that led her to attack a ship largely built of wood. I do not think I need to elaborate further."
"Oh, that? I was just trying to keep up my end of Conall's post-flight deal."
Edward looks genuinely confused for a moment, to the point of having trouble forming his question. When he does get it out it's just as composed as everything else he says. "How exactly does sending a dragon to our ship constitute cooperation with an agreement not to meddle with the Farran?"

"Well, I knew I would need passage back across quite soon, and I was afraid The Spirits would direct me to use your ship again," (Every once in a while The Spirits will directly tell a Choneiji to do something. Historically, ignoring this advice has never ended well. Ever.) "So I arranged to have it temporarily grounded while I was booking passage."
Now the Blue Tail is suspicious. "Why do you need to go back to Magis? I thought you had a lot of work to do here on Draconis?"

"Oh, I did, and I got as much of it done as I could, but I couldn't stand to miss seeing a bleeding moon." Both Edward and Raoclem's companion freeze for a moment with looks of some surprise and dismay. In fact, a few heads of the nearby crowd--especially the Neshoban ones--get turned in the Choneiji's general direction. Oh, well, now I've gone and said it haven't I? Didn't want to ruin the surprise. Yes, the last time I visited Xindaris' son he was in poor health, complaining that all the future-thoughts were beginning to close in on him, make it difficult to pay attention to the present. That was...I think, about twenty years ago? Now The Spirits are getting restless, talking about how much they'll miss him and wishing he could stay just a little longer." Everyone knows Raoclem is the sort of person whose word can never be fully trusted, but even he wouldn't talk about this without at least a grain of truth to his words. I should probably explain why what he is saying is so important.

On Aranor, a lunar eclipse (in which the moon, which is larger than Earth's and thus looms bigger in the Aranoran night sky, seems to turn a crimson shade) is associated with a very specific superstition. It is a superstition which has proven impossible for astronomical advances to expel, for the simple fact that it has not been wrong once yet. "When the moon bleeds, Ichoneiji dies"; or, "when Ichoneiji dies, the moon bleeds". Nobody really knows whether one causes the other, or whether The Spirits somehow cause the two to coincide as an act of mourning, but in any case it is a very serious event for the Neshoba, and thanks to friendly interracial relations to a lot of other people as well. There are numerous less confirmable superstitions that magic doesn't work quite right on the night of a bleeding moon, because The Spirits themselves being upset and disrupts it. The other element of concern, however, is that the event Raoclem is predicting would be the first lunar eclipse on Aranor since its two continents learned of one another's existences and began sending people back and forth. Everyone on Aranor these days know that day on one continent is night on the other, and everyone who has studied their history knows that Ichoneiji only dies on the night of the continent informally referred to as Rith-Ard, and formally known as Magis (for it was the one, for the longest time, where everyone used magic; as opposed to Draconis, where dragons ruled and the only other inhabitants, humans, were ignorant of magic beyond knowing what dragons could do). So the question is, when the moon bleeds before one side of Aranor, what--if anything--happens on the other? The invention of airships run by magical engines was also a long time after the last bleeding moon, and if the magic that propels them and keeps them in the air were disrupted without proper warning it isn't hard to imagine the impact that would have. Fingers crossed, I suppose, that either that superstition is wrong or one isn't flying on that day/night.


Well, that's what Edward was up to, so we may as well join Xach next. The blindfolded Shadow Fang Neshobe is currently waiting near the entrance of a particular tavern, the sort of place one might choose for an unofficial, friendly kind of appointment. He's early; he had expected to be late and for that reason was quite impatient with the doctor tending to his hand. He was firmly chastised and reminded that he may not be able to use the hand again without severe pain if he doesn't allow it to heal properly. Now his arms are crossed, his right hand covered in bandages only just now drying off from soaking in some soothing balm intended to take the edge off. Edge. Pff. A real warrior grits her teeth and fights through the pain. At least, that might be something Xach would have said if he had been asked whether he wanted the balm or not instead of having his arm dumped in a bucket of the stuff.

Anyway, the person he is waiting for eventually arrives, sniffing the air for his scent and listening for the occasional clicking sound from his mouth, which is itself half of why he knows she has arrived. The young woman who arrives is a half Yellow Moon, half Blue Tail Neshobe with a distinctive teal color to her fur that would also be that of her eyes, if she had any. She wears a pair of specially tinted dark red glasses over her eyes to obscure the empty sockets, which she has stubbornly refused to have sewn shut and which many people find uncomfortable to look at. (In case you're wondering, keeping eyeglasses on Neshoban ears is really just a matter of practiced balance and control. It's no big deal.) She wears simple, flexible leather armor and walks with a cane, pretending to need it for her blindness in spite of training to the contrary. The cane is heavily modified to hold together as well as any sword, and to easily work as blunt, slashing, and stabbing weapon, and she is notoriously skilled at applying all three uses for it.
 
Her name--her true, Choneiji-given name and the only one she uses--is Arozi-Tryptei (pronounced Ah-row-zay, trip-tay), though most people only use the first few syllables to refer or speak to her. Like many true Neshoban names its meaning forms a paradox at first glance, something about seeing without eyes. She is a Peacekeeper captain, an avid supporter of changing the occupation from a loose bunch of privateers into a proper self-regulating organization with the exclusive recognition of at least some of the more prominent of Aranoran governments (which would force unscrupulous Peacekeepers to either straighten up or effectively be considered pirates). For reasons nobody quite understands, she has a fixation on dragons, to the point of having her airship designed to resemble one. For reasons everyone who knows her well enough understands, she is somewhat obsessed with justice, especially punishment. The simple fact is--she believes--that when a man unprovoked walks into a home, ties up the family, then tortures and kills the parents before the child's eyes before plucking said eyes out and eating them, it no longer matters how legally insane he is--magically-induced or not--he deserves to die. Pirates are terrified of her because she sometimes enjoys making theatrical "trials" for her own enjoyment. There is a special little "courtroom" in her ship for the specific purpose; they almost invariably end with a guilty-as-charged and subsequent hanging from the side of the airship. While a pirate's capture is usually worth more bounty than his or her dead body, both are usually acceptable. That is to say, a pirate's life is not worth much to anyone on the side of the law, so she has basically nothing to fear for this behavior beyond the same kind of revenge pirates usually try to enact on Peacekeepers.

As you may have guessed by now, Xach is part mentor in dealing with blindness (especially in battle), part father-figure to her after the tragic death of her parents. She likes to tell people they are "Blind Buddies", which name he cannot quite disagree with.
"Ah! There you are. It's great to see you again!"
"Likewise. Feels like I haven't seen you in ages." The two of them often make a point to use expressions referring to sight and eyes, as a sort of joke between them; it's also meant to make other people feel a little less uncomfortable about using such language around them. The two Neshoba clasp left hands and head into the tavern.
Once they are properly seated, Arozi starts the conversation proper.
"You're way earlier than I thought you'd be. I thought your captain didn't like to waste fuel on rushing."
"Oh, he doesn't. We were forced to rush this time. People to not see, a meeting to not have, you know."

She sniffs a few times. "Hence the white and black smells on your hand?" (Arozi suffers from a bizarre form of synaesthesia where smells and tastes have colors and somehow the other way around as well, due to an extremely ill-advised and horribly botched attempt to magically regrow her eyes shortly after she lost them. The young elf responsible was severely reprimanded and quickly decided to go into something that wasn't medicine.)
"Yes. I'll tell you all about it, make it an official report. Pleasure before business, though, it's been far too long since we laid eyes on one another."
"I agree." 

(There is a brief pause in the conversation while a barmaid comes and takes some orders from them.) "So...how are things with Karua these days?"
"About the same. Last year was the last time I caught him in a good mood; last time we were on a date he nearly burned the table down. He's still not ready to commit, I think, but that's fine. I've got to do something great before I can really even think of settling down and having pups."
Xach nods--out of habit, since obviously she can't see the gesture. "Wise plan, I'd say. There's no need to rush things. Heh, you're already farther along on that front than I am. Speaking of greatness...did that rumor ever pay off?"
She laughs. "I wouldn't have time to hang around if it had. That guy was a clear imposter, plain as the smell of white and dye on his tail! He could've bothered to limp a little bit, or actually learn a few of the stories he used to tell. Even another White Grass would've hated such a pitiful impersonation."

"That sounds like a verdict. What was the penalty?"
"Just a little pain and humiliation, to teach him not to do it again. Or I suppose, at least do it right next time." She sighs. "Such a shame, though, I thought for sure I was on to something this time. I'm sure the old coot would support a Peackeeper union if someone just asked him. Queen Thera would have to at least respect the words of the man who's read the entire castle library, and Ardan just imitates everything Rithara does with trade these days."
Xach shrugs. "If you could find him. That's the advantage of a Fylens mate, you know. He wanted to disappear with her and by The Spirits, that's what he did. You'd have better luck tracking down the Doppleganger and convincing it to impersonate him."
"That'd be awfully dishonest, though."

 
"I cannot imagine this ending well. At best this Bernard is attempting to send us on a wild goose chase for some reason and we will find nothing at all; worst case, he is working with or part of a gang of robbers who lure people out into a deserted ruin to steal from them, extort money from any friends or relatives they may have, and eventually kill them. Somewhere between, it is possible said robbers are new to the trade or inept and we would manage to escape them."

"What if he was telling the truth while pretending to be someone he wasn't to make it seem more believable?"
"I think based on your description of him I would sooner have trusted Aurica's word on the best place to hunt fictional birds than his on the location of an ancient burial site."
"If it is a bunch of bandits we should just get together a party of hunters and go bust up their operation. Pirates and monsters aren't the only ones worth coin, after all."
"Do you actually know anyone other than yourself in this town who would go on a completely blind mission to fight bandits who may or may not exist, and who will know we are coming if they do?"
"Khazu here would come. Doesn't he owe you for something anyway?"
"No."

"Er, I am not so certain I would like to participate. I-I mean, I would like to find my friend first, while she is in town..."
"I'll help you find her, maybe she could join us! What's she look like?"
"Well--"
"Hold on, I missed the part where you actually gave either of us a convincing reason to do this in the first place."
"Well, what's wrong with a little adventure? It could be just like old times! And your ship's being repaired anyway, isn't it?"
"I am still recovering from lightning burns that I received literally less than three hours ago."
Charlotte is already standing up. "Bah, they'll heal. Now don't interrupt--what's your friend look like, Khazu?"

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From: http://www.mspaforums.com/showthread.php?42524-Airships-Over-Aranor-Prose