They came to you in a dream.
“Go!” they ordered. “Board the Swallow Tail
And fly west.”
Decided to host something of my own. I’ve been on this site long enough that it was bound to happen eventually. This is a fantasy journey RP with a hint of mystery to it. Part of a watchdog's duty, after all, is getting to the root of an area’s problem and flushing it out, and that requires some investigation. Or you could just call upon your patron to smite the place. After all, there can’t be a problem with the town if there’s no town to begin with.
I was thinkinking three to five players, though I suppose that depends on the level of interest. Feel free to ask me any other questions you might have, and I hope you enjoy!
The Story So Far
OH Muse, I sing to thee a song most pure
And hope the winds might play again to you
Please carry, breeze, the tune I’ve writ: a cure
For all your ails and let your soul renew
--Song for the End of the World, lines 1-4
Notes from Captain Helmsley’s Logbook
I never got a clear answer from those dogs I picked up a few days back. “West” was all they told me. I think they trust that I’m going to get them to the right spot, but I’ll be damned if I know what that is. I never even found out how one of them got on this ship in the first place but he’s a watchdog too so he too got passage.
I did have some cargo I needed to drop off that way, though. Got commissioned to take some fabrics out to Galatea. I know that’s not the farthest west you can get, but until I get some clearer answers, that’s about all I can give them.
That’s not to imply Galatea is an awful place to be, of course. Once upon a time, before captaining this ship became what I wanted to do with the rest of my life, I thought for a bit about retiring there. I’d still probably like it, too. It’s not as big a trading hub as, say, Sindalium, but Sindalium has a load of other issues that Galatea just doesn’t have. I avoid Sindalium when I can.
Galatea, though, what an island! If I had to pick one -- just one! -- feature that puts it above all the others this far west, what else can my answer be but the temple square?
The temple square! Where every god and every goddess has a temple dedicated to them and no other. The architecture alone, every building is unique in its design, each one in exact specifications to the priests of that deity. It’s a marvel to look at. And not only that, the cobblestone area in the middle has each stone inscribed with a prayer. Some of them have faded over time, but the memories are still there. Speaking of memories, maybe I’ll stop by after handling my own business. It’s good to keep these old bones active.
We’re set to arrive mid-morning tomorrow. I hope this is the place these dogs were meant to go. If it wasn’t, I hope they enjoy their stay.
He dreams of a great bonfire. It crackles and roars and yet never seems to escape the confines set by its kindling. Surrounding it in concentric circles are an endless number of faceless beings, each staring at the fire. They seem to lean back and forth, gyrating, causing ripples of motion spreading back to where the fire’s light cannot reach.
One of the beings, not from one of the closest rings, but maybe a ring or two back, steps forward. They are inches from the fire, now, and yet, they show no fear. Nor do they show any hesitation at all as they bend down and, in one swift motion, pull out a still-burning log from the fire.
The fire continues to consume the wood, but the embers do not move onto their hand. Even as they hold the log aloft, even as they begin to hum a single, low note and begin to move again, back and forth, the fire only seems to burn the wood.
The hum, like the movement of each individual form, seems to ripple back into the crowd. But each form hums a different tone, each one kind of matching the ones near it and yet never quite the same. It creates a cacophony, one that grows louder every moment as more and more join in.
The ripples of movement move faster and faster. The sound drowns out the roar of the fire and continues to get louder and louder until, finally, the vision fades, and, eventually, so too does the hum.
Emily Briar paced back and forth on the dock, watching the Swallow Tail lazily drift down into port. It was late, and yes, the difference between “mid-morning” and “mid-day” was only a few hours, and yes, it was actually rather impressive that zeppelins arrived on the same day as their charted predictions, no matter the actual time, but didn’t they know she had business with one of its passengers?
Well, of course they didn’t know; Emily hadn’t actually told them yet. But she just had to get their attention. She had put on her best dress and everything, a deep green to compliment her orange-red hair. She couldn’t fail now. So if the Swallow Tail could just land already, if everyone could disembark…
There was a crowd starting to gather. Emily wondered if every island had these sorts of gawkers, the kind of people who showed up just to catch a glimpse of the new arrivals. She tried to pay these people no mind. They were just things to get around, and it wasn’t like she wasn’t willing to jab a few elbows into stomachs if she needed to.
One particular member of the crowd drew her attention, though, and realizing who it was caused Emily to curse under her breath. What was Levanna Marcus doing here? What business did she have that couldn’t happen when the dogs inevitably made it up to the temple square? Emily watched her wade through the masses. Of course, she could command such authority that people just naturally got out of the way for her. Not even a “Make way!” or anything, just a fluid motion, always forward towards the docking zeppelin.
At last, the ropes had finally all been tied. Emily’s journey to the front of the crowd, as expected, was significantly rougher than Levanna’s, but she managed all the same. She wasn’t able to get to the dogs first, but Emily was close enough now she could hear everything Levanna was saying.
“Welcome to Galatea!” Levanna said, leading, of course, with that classic empty phrase accompanied by its naturally empty tone. “Welcome to our humble island. I trust you had a pleasant trip?”
As Levanna continued with her introduction, (“My name is Levanna Marcus blah blah blah… I’m part of the council that oversees the theocratic goings-on around here blah blah blah…”) Emily craned her neck as she moved forward, trying to get a better glimpse. There was one specific watchdog she needed. More, of course, could never hurt, but she needed to know which of them specifically she needed to aim for.
Emily had forgotten that watchdogs could be so young. Two of them were hardly older than she was! But it was the youngest one, and the only girl among the four, that caught her eye specifically. Nuumu’s watchdog, that had to be her. And so she pressed on.
Levanna had just finished saying, “Why don’t we retire to my office chambers and I can show you a little hospitality? This afternoon may be a little busy for one of you; one of our blacksmiths has been toiling away at something he would like to offer to Taros. I’m sure it would mean the world to them if you oversaw the ceremony,” when, in one final surge, Emily managed to make it to the part in the crowd. And when Levanna turned around to lead the watchdogs away, Emily took her chance.
Her hand shot out, seizing the Nuumu watchdog by the wrist. Her grip was firmer than she’d intended, but she was more focused on what she had to say next anyway. “Excuse me, miss,” Emily said. “I was wondering if you could come with me? It will only take a moment, and then I can show you to wherever you intend to go.”
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