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Post by Fish the Tinkerer on Jul 4, 2023 18:27:05 GMT -5
Admittedly, Fish was surprised to be traveling with Kvasir for this venture. They shared enough time in the Desert Rose, but it was no secret Fish had been traveling more and more these days that it wasn't often they made it back to their shed. It meant Fish was "behind" on medical lessons, but only in the sense that Fish hadn't had any recently. They kept up with the reading and research in their travels.
Today, the fox and the bird were after some mephits. A few of the creatures have apparently been causing trouble across the isles. A simple enough thing to eliminate, but troublesome if you don't have any weapons. Plus, just popping them was a waste of good alchemical material. Fish hated nothing more than that.
As they hop along the road towards the bamboo forest, Fish looks up to their mentor, "We should speak with whoever sent in this request. It would be better than a blind chase through the woods."
The bamboo was dense here which meant any search was going to be slowed down considerably. This was the life of an adventurer though and Fish didn't seem to mind it so much. They tended to operate with a lot of wait and see periods anyways so patience was well instilled in them.....most times.
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Post by Kvasir Sigurrós on Jul 23, 2023 20:24:37 GMT -5
It’s been a little while since Kvasir last visited the Crescent Isles.
It’s hard to get a chance to, nowadays, considering how far away the Moonglade is from his current residence and how demanding his work is as a doctor– and how much more demanding it has gotten since mysterious cataclysms started popping up across Charon’s major cities and landmarks. Still, supplies dwindle as supplies tend to, and having to plan time to venture outside of Zeinav is just an inevitability of his line of work, especially considering his aversion to ordering shipments of herbs and other medical necessities. Why do that when he can go foraging himself and guarantee quality and freshness?
Still, his reason for being in the Isles this time has little to do with foraging– though he’ll inevitably take at least a little bit of time to go and get some necessary flora–; no, this time he’s venturing out to the Bamboo Forest with Fish in search of some Mephits.
Woo. Mephits. Rapture, joy.
Despite the purpose being less than ideal, it is nice to go out on a trip with Fish, at least. Kvasir will never turn down a chance to spend some time with his favorite bird, and it’s nice to see them taking some initiative when it comes to helping others! So, he’ll bite down any complaints he may have about Mephit-hunting– at least until they have to deal with the little bastards. Ah, but that’s a ways off; they have to find them first.
“That’s a good idea,” Kvasir says as soon as Fish suggests asking their commissioner some questions. “Ah, let’s see… I believe the request was filed by a few townspeople on the outskirts of the woods, particularly by one of the fishermen who can’t catch a thing because of the Mephits. I think his name was… Liangmu? Was that it? I don’t think the settlement is far off.”
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Post by Fish the Tinkerer on Jul 23, 2023 20:33:46 GMT -5
To be fair, Fish was not entirely enthusiastic about huntin mephits either. They tended to be tricky critters to chase and capture, but the desire for scientific materials largely outweighed their disdain. It was not entirely altruism that motivated Fish, but they had softened in recent weeks to not be so entirely profit driven.
They rationalized that helping people made them more willing to do favors for you in the future, so Fish could use that. Not a great motivation for being kind, but it was honestly a very big step up from where they were.
Fish looks up at Kvasir as he speaks before hoping along, "That makes sense, the ocean would be an ideal place for a water mephit to cause havoc if it wanted to."
They follow the doctor along the path, letting him take the lead. Kvasir taking point would be a lot easier than leaving the bird to do the talking. It wasn't long before they did start to come up on a few shacks just off the shoreline. A few people sat around a fire mending nets as they roasted something over the fire, but it clearly wasn't fish given their troubles.
"Eh? Strangers? Been awhile since any new faces have passed by here. Sorry, this part of the beach is closed for now." A young woman waves a hand to the pair, an apologetic smile on her face.
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Post by Kvasir Sigurrós on Aug 28, 2023 14:42:52 GMT -5
As Fish signs back their response, indicating that the ocean and shoreline would be a water mephit’s favored location to cause some chaos, Kvasir gives a short nod in turn– Fish is, as always, quite the sharp and intuitive bird, as they always have been. Honestly, Kvasir may argue sometimes that they’re a bit too sharp and intuitive, but that’s neither here nor there, and they are, so far, yet to do anything that can’t be undone with their limitless well of knowledge on Charon’s most toxic of plants and their arsenal of brews composed from them.
…so far being the key phrase.
Either way, that isn’t his focus right now– all that matters is finding their commissioner, getting the information they need, and handling those pesky little mephits so they can get their materials and head right back home. It isn’t as though Kvasir is opposed to combat or incapable of handling it, but mephits are far from his first choice of creature to engage in any combat with– they’re destructive, impish, and a marksman’s worst nightmare, and considering the majority of Kvasir’s capacity for damage comes from his aim… he knows he’s likely in for a time.
Ugh. He needs to stop sulking.
He continues along the pathway until they finally catch sight of the silhouettes of a few small buildings in the distance– the flicker of a fire, the hunched frames of people as they labored away, carefully mending nets and making food, a certain weariness in their eyes– one that doesn’t fade even as one of them, a young woman with dark hair and warm eyes stands and turns to approach them, gently informing them that this segment of the beach is closed off for now.
“Oh, no need for apologies, ma’am,” he’s quick to say, offering a smile in return. “My name is Doctor Kvasir Sigurros, and this is Fish– we’re representatives of the Golden Consortium. We’re actually here to deal with some Mephits…?”
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Post by Fish the Tinkerer on Aug 28, 2023 20:00:30 GMT -5
"Deal with them, eh? Good luck, they are precocious little scamps. Careful the don't soak those clothes of yours." There is a bit of eagerness in her voice hearing that someone was here to deal with the mephits. She was not expecting a fox man and a bird man to be the ones responding, but people were taking care of it.
Fish hops along the beach past the woman, unholstering what would be an unusual weapon to Kvasir. An odd mix of wood and metal sharing a similar shape with a hand crossbow, but gone are the bow and string replaced instead with a single metal tube. Special engravings run along the metal as Fish polishes it up a bit while they walk. Eventually a bit of black powder is poured in and tamped down before Fish loads a bullet into the chamber.
Soon, the pair can see the mephits ahead of them. Dripping little bodies hover above the water while some faces remain in the water with their eyes barely visible. They seem to be picking over the remains of a crashed rowboat, tossing things aside that they find no interest in. Debris from the scavenging floats in the water around them, some bubbles burbling up from whatever sinks to the bottom.
"Fish can see why the people are concerned....There is more here than Fish was expecting."
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Post by Kvasir Sigurrós on Sept 4, 2023 15:59:18 GMT -5
It’s hard to miss the gratitude in the woman’s voice, let alone in her eyes as soon as she hears that the two of them are here to handle the mephits– the weariness in her expression ebbs away, tension fleeing from her shoulders like a mouse flees from a barn cat. It’s pretty clear she has little interest in keeping them occupied with a conversation, too, and Kvasir can’t say he blames her; mephits are mephits, after all, and no one wants to deal with them for long. Who would want to delay the people here to get rid of them? “We will do our best,” he says, offering a smile and a polite half-bow before moving to follow Fish as they hop along the beach, not wanting to be left behind. He’s busy enough making sure he has all of his equipment in order that he almost doesn’t notice the strange weapon Fish has withdrawn from their holster– oh, but he certainly does notice when he glances up from his satchel, his eye going wide as soon as he looks at it. He’s… heard about these, he thinks– only bits and pieces, but enough. They’re a relatively new ranged weapon, but they’re extraordinarily lethal, dangerous, and launch a completely different kind of ammunition than a crossbow or longbow, something powered by flame and powder– “...Fish,” Kvasir begins, his voice strangely steady for a man in his situation. “Is that a gun?”Where did they get a fucking gun?!
He barely gets a chance to let his question go through before they finally stumble upon the mephits, which, mercifully, have yet to notice them. They’re wretched little things, focused on sifting through wreckage and little else, unaware of the world around them– which means that maybe Kvasir and Fish can catch them off guard. Kvasir hums to himself, letting a little surge of sunlight spark to life in his palm before it washes over him and Fish both, settling in their bones and offering a burst of power. [1] “Well, it’s nothing we can’t handle, right, Fish?” he says, giving the young bird a smile. “Go on– first one’s all yours.”
[1] Inspiring Presence
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Post by Fish the Tinkerer on Sept 4, 2023 16:55:55 GMT -5
"It is, Fish made it." They tamp down a bullet into each of the chambers before settling themselves. Fish holsters the gun then stands on the beach, little talons flexing as if they are about to duel another outlaw.
It might be a cute display if it weren't for the fact the bird had a deadly weapon, or several, on their person. Between the knives, crossbow, and gun, woe be to anyone unlucky enough to catch the bird's unwanted attention. Fish stared down the mephits who didn't seem all that interested in anyone that wasn't on the beach. Their peaceful play was about to be interrupted.
The peaceful lapping of ocean waves against the sand, the sea breeze moving through the cove, the sounds of sea gulls and other birds squawking in the distance was all quickly replaced by the sharp concussive force of a gun being fired. Fish drew and pulled the trigger in one swift motion turning a mephit into mist.
"Fish thinks that is a successful first test in the field." Fish watches as the other mephits are very clearly now aware of the pair on shore and aren't too happy with their friend just being eliminated from existence without warning.
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Post by Kvasir Sigurrós on Sept 4, 2023 17:44:04 GMT -5
Oooh, Kvasir does not like how precisely they landed just that first shot. It is a good thing in this moment, yes– Fish’s aim being so good is excellent for the circumstances, considering they just shot a moving target straight out of the air and sent the thing to kingdom come. But oh, the implications this holds for day-to-day life, for taking them out for less combat-based missions and trips… …he supposes that’s for… future Kvasir to worry about. He sighs as he gets his bow ready, already dreading having to worry about so many moving targets trying to get up close and personal when he’s familiar with ranged combat, but no matter; it isn’t like his bow is the only line of defense he has, after all. He’s quick to pull the string back, an arrow of light forming into place in alignment as he lines up his shot, aims as carefully as he can, and fires– cleaving a mephit that had already started charging him in two, leaving it to join its companion in the mist on the wind. That’s two good shots between them, but now it’s just a question of if he can keep up the pace. The mephits are quick to flit about, already advancing on the two of them in a surge, packed together in a tight-knit group– though they quickly scatter by the time Kvasir fires off a second arrow, dispersing on the wind and reconvening elsewhere, as quickly as their wings allow. Gods, they’re so annoying. Who gave them the right to be this annoying? He resists the urge to groan in frustration as he swivels about, letting light surge in his palm into a jagged shape for only a moment before he tosses it practically point-blank at a mephit in front of him [1]– and just as that one evaporates into mist, he feels water get splashed on his head, his ears and hair now equally damp. God. Why. “...real funny,” he sighs, swiveling about to try and swat the creature with his hand, brushing his wet bangs out of his face. This already feels like a long fight.
[1] Purity Bolt
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Post by Fish the Tinkerer on Sept 7, 2023 11:43:28 GMT -5
Fish switches from their pistol to their hand crossbow, it was going to be a lot more efficient to keep with this for the time being. A bolt is quickly fired out, curving around to clip one of the mephits. The glancing blow isn't enough to kill it, but it certainly is upset. As the mephit turns to go after Fish, the bird slips into Kvasir's shadow to get out of sight.
They weren't about to get splashed with water. Fish has a strong predilection against being wet. The disappearing bird means that the rest of the mephits turn to the fox to try and scare him off. The mephits begin to slosh towards and menace Kvasir before dark tendrils burst up to grab the mephits.
Sloshing turns to screeching as they thrash and fight against their new bindings. With the things held in place it would be a lot easier for them to take out the strange bunch of mephits. The aviankin rose up out of the shadows again.
"The key is shooting them in the core, it shifts cause they are made of water, but it's what holds them together."
To demonstrate, a bolt gets sent through a bright globe in the midsection of one of the mephits and it pops again like a water balloon.
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Post by Kvasir Sigurrós on Jan 7, 2024 1:21:06 GMT -5
If Kvasir’s tail wasn’t so waterlogged from the mephit’s little attack, he’s sure his fur would be bristling with agitation by now. It really isn’t like the little creatures are especially difficult to handle– they’re not durable, going down in one or two strikes of any weapon you can get your hands on, and one would be hard-pressed to call them lethal– but ohhhh are they annoying. He already knows he’ll be craving a nice, warm bath as soon as he gets back to the Desert Rose just for the sake of washing away the lingering itch of saltwater. Some nice Zeinavian rose oil, a bit of orange blossom just for the hell of it–
Well. Perhaps he should save the fantasizing for later; they’ve still got several mephits to deal with, and now that Fish has tucked themself away in the comfort of Kvasir’s shadow, all of them seem primed and ready to target him.
Lovely.
He refuses to let his irritation show; this is one of his eternal conflicts. Fish is a child, but they are a capable child who is proficient in myriad arts and skills, but they are still a child, and their wellbeing should always be prioritized above his own. He is the adult, and they are young, and they deserve to enjoy what remains of their youth while they have it, and if allowing that entails getting pelted in the face by balls of saltwater by hordes of pesky mephits, then so be it. Kvasir has faced this with Astrid before– danger hardly tastes bitter if it’s choked down in the name of protecting another.
(Though this is hardly really danger.)
Still, he can’t help the little sigh of relief that leaves him as shadowy tendrils emerge from the earth and slither up and around the mephits’ tiny forms, snaring them in place, one of them practically popping with a well-aimed crossbow bolt Fish sends its’ way. Kvasir is quick to pull back his bowstring, aiming a few quick shots of gilded light at the writhing mephits, unable to resist the smile that pulls at his lips as arrow meets flesh and the creatures burst, flecks of water flying into the sky like tiny, fragile crystals.
“Duly noted, Fish,” Kvasir says, a soft chuckle leaving him as he looks to where they’ve popped up out of their shadow. “Duly noted. Do you want the last few shots?”
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Post by Fish the Tinkerer on Jan 7, 2024 11:55:23 GMT -5
Normally, ducking in and out of the shadows is Fish's main tactic because given their small stature one on one fights at close range would almost never go in their favor. Today it is more about avoiding the water and an impromptu bath. Making Kvasir was not the intent, but it was an unfortunate side effect.
All of this meant it was prudent to wrap things up sooner rather than later. They spring up from the darkness and roll out to the side firing several shots in rapid succession.[1] The bolts impact into the mephits soft bodies then explode.[2] The watery nature of the mephits dampens the explosions a bit, but the force of the explosion helps disperse the mephits rather than dousing Kvasir again.
The mephits are gone, but Fish is left standing at the shore looking at the cores floating in the water like apples in a barrel. They could ask Kvasir to grab them, but they already put the good doctor through enough. Fish wasn't exactly keen on wading out there anyways. Not many birds are really known for their ability to swim.
Fish just stares quietly caught between the greedy urge to collect their prize as immediately as possible and the burgeoning sense of "friendship" and "not treating people as tools." How exactly to go about this?
They holster their crossbow and look up to Kvasir, "Fish would like to collect the cores, but Fish is too small to risk wading into the water."
1. Volley Shot 2. Explosive Bolts
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Post by Kvasir Sigurrós on Jan 16, 2024 12:09:54 GMT -5
It’s hard to hide the sigh of relief that escapes Kvasir as Fish fires off several rapid crossbow bolts at the last few mephits, who barely have a moment to realize that their allies are no longer present before they join them, feeble forms shattering around the tips of crossbow bolts, the solidity of flesh quickly shifting into water, shimmering like rain as it falls against the sand and sea, leaving nothing but those prized, pearlescent elemental cores floating atop the surface of the water.
“Good shot,” he opts to say, approval thrumming through his voice as he looks to the aviankin standing beside him. “I have to say, Fish, I doubt Charon’s ever seen a marksman with as precise an aim as yours.”
Kvasir offers a little smile, eye glinting with genuine pride before he briefly turns his attention back to himself and his own predicament– gods above, he really hopes he doesn’t have to spend the entire trek back drenched in water. He knows he’ll dry off naturally in due time, but he can practically feel the salt clinging to his tail as is; his cloak weighs on his shoulders like a sin, heavy, dragging against the ground with the moisture it’s accrued, his usual light, easy garb made to feel like a prison. Perhaps he’s being a tad dramatic, but the sensation is just.. Unbearable.
And yet, he pauses as soon as he notices Fish staring in silence at the water, their intent unclear. He’s a moment away from asking what’s wrong when–
Oh. Ohhh.
Well, there’s no way he’s saying no to that.
“I can get them,” Kvasir says, his voice softening significantly. Fish is a very capable and proficient marksman, alchemist, and craftsman, excellent in all they do, but at the end of the day, they are still a child, and the world is vast and sometimes doesn’t care for how you excel. And… well. He can’t help but feel a little surge of pride for the fact that Fish, even if not in so many words, asked for his help. “I don’t mind.”
He’s quick to go and step out into the water, carefully plucking each of the cores he can see from the surface of the water– they glisten beneath the sunlight in his palms, iridescent as the water itself. It’s almost a shame to put them away in one of his component pouches, but such is necessity.
It isn’t long before he’s managed to collect all the ones he could see, and he gently sets the pouch of elemental cores in Fish’s hands with a smile.
“There you go. I'm pretty sure I got all of them."
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Post by Fish the Tinkerer on Jan 18, 2024 23:47:04 GMT -5
Fish quietly watches Kvasir wade into the water. They didn't ask him to do it and there he goes. Is he expecting Fish to offer some compensation for the work provided? That was the only reason Fish ever did anything.
They have barely thought through all of the potential asks Kvasir would make by the time the fox man returns. Fish cocks their head to the side as they look at the strange marbles in their hands. The pouch is pried open a bit to let Fish look in and inspect the quality.
A bandolier of small vials is shifted around to Fish's chest as they pull off an empty one. Kvasir could see other alchemical ingredients, fire and light catalysts, reagents, even a mimic slime. Two of the marbles are collected into a vial and added to the collection before Fish offered the pouch back to Kvasir.
They stared at the good doctor a moment before turning to hop away without a word. Rather than depart entirely though, Fish begins collecting sticks and leaves off the beach to form a campfire. When there finally is enough material for a fire, Fish reaches into another pouch to dust their hands with charcoal before snapping them towards the kindling.[1]
A spark ignites the kindling and slowly the fire begins to pick up. They look back to Kvasir to seemingly away his judgement on the makeshift drying station.
1. Create Spark
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Post by Kvasir Sigurrós on Mar 19, 2024 15:21:36 GMT -5
Kvasir opts not to say anything at all as Fish accepts the pouch from him, pulling the mouth of the pouch apart to investigate the newly-acquired contents within– he doesn’t want to disturb whatever Fish is thinking, whatever they’re doing to assess the pearlescent cores only barely catching traces of sunlight through the encompassing shadows of the pouch. It’s hard to catch what’s going through their mind, hard to tell whether the elemental cores fit their standards, but based on the way Fish grasps for one of the vials in their bandolier, they must.
A small smile pulls at the corners of Kvasir’s lips as he watches Fish slip two of the orbs into one of the vials, slipping it in place alongside all of the other alchemical components they’ve accrued; it’s interesting seeing just how much they’ve collected, how many bouts they’ve doubtlessly been in, how fruitful their escapades have been. It sends a little surge of pride flowering up somewhere in Kvasir’s heart– he feels a little guilty over it, considering he knows Fish has always been capable, that they’ve always been a skilled craftsbird and tinkerer and alchemist, but…
He can’t help it. They’re worthy of his pride and more.
He does blink in surprise as Fish hands the pouch back to him, two more of the cores still sitting within it– he’d expected them to want to keep all of them, but he won’t refuse a gift. He’s quick to tuck the component pouch into his bag, securing it as well as he can before he turns to look to the aviankin again, gratitude on his tongue.
“Thank you, Fish–”
But they’ve already hopped away, heading away from the tide, starting work on collecting leaves and sticks and all manner of flammable things, gathering them together and lighting them ablaze and looking to him expectantly and–
And Kvasir is immediately reminded of the damp state of his clothes, his fur, his hair, and he feels pride well up in his heart again.
“I appreciate it,” he says, voice soft, as he walks over to the little campfire, taking a seat beside it and sighing contentedly as the warmth radiates over him, slowly but surely starting to cast away that accursed dampness. “That was thoughtful of you.”
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Post by Fish the Tinkerer on Mar 19, 2024 15:42:07 GMT -5
"Rewards are split evenly to prevent resentment." The phrase is something practiced, something Fish was clearly told hundreds of times. An old adage from the Thieves Guild and a rule to prevent some, like Fish, who might try and take more than a fair share.
Fish tends to the fire a moment just to make sure it really takes and gets to be a more formidable fire. They look up a moment to seemingly surveil the sky. Given this is the Isles, Fish wasn't worried about hypothermia or any ill effects impacting Kvasir. It's silent, but the good doctor and see Fish is assessing Kvasir's medical needs and trying to find out what first aid is needed.
In Fish's summation, none really other than warming and drying the clothes. The fire was about the best Fish could do.
"Aunt Kamille is teaching Fish magic, that is how Fish started the fire." The bird simply plops down into the sand, legs out in front of them.
For a moment, they just look into the fire as the flames are reflected off their little black eyes. They would offer a cloak or a blanket, but most of everything Fish has is well Fish-sized. So, for the moment they are content to just sit with Kvasir and wait until he feels dry enough to leave. Fish will have to work on a portable clothes dryer or something that could help in situations like this.
Then a realization hits them as they blink and look to Kvasir, "You're welcome?" They are not sure if that is the right response, but they believe they've been told that's what you say when people thank you. It's only recently that people have began thanking Fish.
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