the crashing wave

[jharvas]

avriel.

Avi paused in the wake of the triton’s question. Did he look like a soldier? He certainly used to, when he had a uniform and a station. What did a soldier look like, beyond that? He wasn’t particularly strong, and he’d left a lot of his confidence behind in Arx, so he supposed now he just looked…normal. He was a civilian, young and inexperienced and unimposing. “No, I don’t suppose I look much like a soldier,” he shrugged. “Most are fighters, I suppose. I always stood a better chance at a distance.”

He struggled to keep his head high as the stranger questioned his lies. He knew he didn’t look impaired or injured or like the king would have any reason to honorably discharge him, but if the triton saw fight in him, he was sorely mistaken. Even if he hadn’t broken so many rules, if he hadn’t been so reckless, he had a gut feeling that the army wouldn’t want him anymore. They wouldn’t want him like this: a fraction of who he used to be, terrified all the time, sleepless and drinking to get through the days. It was a painful reality to accept, but his officer wasn’t wrong about him.

“Well, it wasn’t up to Rolland - at least not directly.” Avi swam through a sea of incoherent thoughts to get to the ones he could speak aloud. My mind isn’t right, he wanted to say, Arx broke me and now I’m unable to fight, but I still fought honorably. It was partially true, but it wasn’t how he wanted to be seen - not by this stranger, and not by anyone. “I lost my powers in Arx,” he said instead, “I didn’t know it was possible, but I was injured badly. Physically, I’m…better, but my abilities haven’t recovered. I’m no good to the army without them.”

Jharvas squinted at the strange human before looking him over yet again. “I mean, well, yes, you don’t look like a soldier at first glance...” He paused as the memories of the battles at Arx resurfaced in his mind. He had fought side by side with soldiers in their king’s armor, king’s steel, as well as soldiers in their common clothes, tattered shirts, the smell of brine and salt and a hard day common’s work mingling with the copper in their blood. Jharvas looked down at the table for a bit, shook his head to regain clarity of his wits, and turned to Avi with a grin. “...not all do. Sometimes it takes a fight for a soldier to come out of a fisherman, or a carpenter, or a husband.”

The mention of distance made the triton raise an eyebrow. “Distance? You’re an archer then? I wish we had archers at Arx. Though, perhaps we did. Perhaps they were why the invaders ran back to their ships. It’s hard to believe a couple of soldiers, a bunch of fishermen and common folk, and a triton could’ve chased them all off the docks. It’s hard to see from a distance, but I suppose that’s what make archers vital to any army.” 

Unfortunately, Jharvas was never an insightful fellow, missing the truth behind Avi’s words. “You were in Arx?” The triton began to appear more excited at the fact that he had found another who fought and survived the invasion. “You fought against the invaders as well? How did you lose...” At least he caught himself this time, realizing the answer came freely. It was the injury that most likely made him lose his powers, the defeat perhaps, the hopelessness? He has been in that position before, somewhat, and it is never a good position to find one’s self in. “For now, anyway. They, your abilities, might return soon. You’ll be back in the fight again.”

Jharvas intended his words to be some sort of compensation for the man’s current predicament, though they were actually mostly for him. He had been traveling all around since Arx, trying to find any trace of the army that might still be lingering around, but to no avail. The battles had awoken something in him, and now that there were no more battles to be fought, at least not in the meantime, he was feeling out of himself. Back to being a fish out of water, a man out of time, a wanderer out of place.

[jharvas]

avriel.

Avi couldn’t help a bark of laughter as the triton scrambled to check on his hair color. “The drink makes your hair turn to your favorite color,” he explained, considering another sip of his own drink but becoming sick at the thought. He was already slurring enough, he supposed. “As far as I know, mine is green. But the blue is…nice.”

His mood changed in an instant, stifled by the sudden mention of the certificate. He didn’t want to tell a complete stranger about it - at least, he hadn’t wanted that when he was sober. Now, there was a certain intrigue to the idea of telling someone he might never see again. He thought for a moment, allowing an audible hum of hesitation to escape his lips. This triton didn’t know who he was before this moment, either. If he wanted, he could spin the story however he wanted. He could be the hero, if he lied. That might feel nice.

“It’s a certificate,” Avi started, “of my honorable discharge from Rolland’s army.”

“Ah...” Jharvas stopped trying to catch his hair, not unlike a dog who was running around in circles trying to catch its tail, and turned his attention back to the strange human. “I didn’t even know I had a favorite color until now. Blue? Because I’m a triton?” He let out a loud laughter, striking the table playfully with his strong right hand. “Green is a nice color, too.” He tried to return the favor, appreciating the man’s standards for colors and favorites, as he took another sip of the drink. The surface had better green than the deep sea, at least that was how Jharvas took to it. Lots of green, too.

The triton paused and squinted at the human, looking him over from head to what he could see of his toes. He could not, not really, if only the upper portions of his torso, and even those were obscured by both shadows and the alcohol blurring his sight. “Do you look like a soldier?” The words escaped his lips without much thought, not that he was incapable of such a thing in his current state. “I can never tell these days.”

He remembered the battles he had during the invasion of Arx, the wins, the losses. He remembered the invading soldiers’ helmets and armor, the sharpness of their spears, how their body plummeted to the ground helplessly when his fury overcame their maliciousness. He remembered the soldiers on their side, the brave men of Arx, the fishermen and townsfolk, the many faces of the docks, taking up arms to defend and take back their city. They were all soldiers then, in that point in time, but he could no longer remember the faces that fought with him, perished for the same cause he had taken arms for, All he could remember were the screams and the blood and the clashing of metal upon another. He grimaced at the thought, shaking his head.

“Rolland is your king, is he not? Why would he discharge you, and with great honor? You look like there's still a fight in you. A lot of it.” It was possible Jharvas was talking about something else, someone else. At this point, it was possible his ass was doing the talking for him.

[jharvas]

avriel.

Avi couldn’t help the huff of laughter that escaped his lips as the triton laughed in his face. At least someone was further gone than he was. He pushed himself up with his elbows, welcoming the change of tone the stranger had brought with him. It was probably better that he cut his wallowing short and indulged in some company. He was sure he didn’t deserve it, but a distraction was a distraction all the same.

“I like your hair,” he said, looking down at his drink as he contemplated taking another sip. Deciding against it, he grabbed the certificate and tucked it into his bag with a heavy hand. He forced a smile, comforted by the fact that the stranger might be too drunk to notice. “I considered the citrus ale, but I’m not sure green is my color.”

Jharvas suddenly sported a serious expression on his face, at least seriously confused. With his head tilted to one side, the triton raised an eyebrow at the strange human beside him, a frown on his face. 

“Green? Isn’t it blue? Wasn’t it blue?” He tried to get a good look of his own hair, too drunk to remember that it would be physically impossible without the help of his hands. 

Obviously, the smartest thing to have done was to take one of his hands and grab a few strands of his hair to see the color for himself, but the thought did not immediately come to Jharvas’ mind. Instead, he spent the next few seconds straining, craning his neck, choosing the dumber option of just having his eyes steal a glance of his hair until he felt something in his neck slightly pop. Ironically, that was when he finally had some semblance of sense, one of his hands finding its way to that sweet spot to massage that part of his neck. 

“You were reading something? A private message? What was it about?” Whether it was his somewhat drunken state or just his innate and inborn belief that tritons were superior than surface dwellers and therefore could and should simply bypass common decency, especially when it came to social protocols, most of which he wasn’t even well aware of, he ignored the simple fact that not everyone would easily surrender their private matters just to satiate someone else’s curiosity.

[jharvas]

player task 004: deciding moments. what if jharvas’ curiosity returned him home instead of pointing him towards the surface?

It has been years since Jharvas Suvorsath left his tribe to explore the ocean floor, coming across that fateful shipwreck, sunk and decaying, the sight of which, its very existence, spiking a curiosity within him that he had never before experienced. 

It has been weeks since Jharvas Suvorsath married, his wife a formidable soldier, a guardian of their tribe, and a lovely maiden with less temper and more baggage.  

It has been days since the underwater war between the three tribes of triton, sahuagin, and sea elves erupted, the aftermath of which saw Jharvas Suvorsath and his tribe barely survive to claim victory, with great losses including their leaders and Jharvas’ own wife.

Now, he floats across the remains of their home, a scowl on his face, his tears immediately washed away from existence by the waters around them, as if they never were in the first place. It has been hours since he spoke to anyone, including her dearly departed wife’s young daughter whose father had perished in the same war. 

“We live, or so we pretend to.” He speaks in his mind, no words able to come out of his mouth. “It is not a life without you, Merri.”

From the distance, he hears crashing, booming, and as he turns towards the source of the commotion, he sees another shipwreck about to kick the doors of his life open. Will Eadro let him rest? He sighs, knowing the answer already. 

There will never be rest for him or his kind, for any that dwell in the depths, as long as those that command the surface keep leaving their large wooden coffins in their domain. 

Jharvas sets his eyes towards the shipwreck and starts swimming in its direction. Tomorrow, he might set his eyes towards the surface and a new war might begin. It is the way of this world, a world that demands blood in the water.

[jharvas]

avriel.

date: march 20th time: 5pm location: the dead nightingale status: open

With a Death Punch and a half in his system, Avi could hardly see the paper he’d been staring at for most the day. This morning, he’d managed to drag himself to the military base to pick up the official certificate of his discharge. That alone had been so exhausting that he’d spent the rest of the day mindlessly wandering the borders of the city, careful to avoid any familiar faces. Under Other than Honorable Conditions, he’d read time and time again. Other than honorable. After all that effort, that’s all he’d amounted to: a certificate that counted for nothing, that most would turn up their nose to. He wasn’t worthy of an iota of honor, and this sheet of paper stood as a reminder.

Thankfully, his mind was so foggy now that he hardly remembered what the sheet of paper was for. He squinted at the blurry words before him, scoffing dramatically. “Other than- Other than-” He chuckled, leaning his elbows into the bar and resting his head on his own half-empty glass. “Up my arse.”

Khaggon was not a place the triton was well familiar with. It was, in fact, his first day in this strange new city.  Yet, here he was, in the most luxurious and popular bar in Khaggon, having drank more than his fill of Citrus Ale, his hair currently a peculiar shade of winter blue. He was told that The Dead Nightingale’s most popular drink would do that, change the color of one’s hair to their favorite color. Jharvas Suvorsath didn’t even know he had a favorite color. That was, until now.

With a huge grin on his face and a just-filled tankard on his hand, he turned to the strang-looking human beside him at the bar. “Whoa, hold on to your horses there, friend. You’d need to buy me dinner first!” 

He laughed towards the stranger’s face, rather loudly, ignoring the concept of personal space, unintentionally blowing the stink of his ale-soaked breath towards the strange-looking human, the alcohol having taken over parts of the triton’s senses. Maybe he shouldn’t have asked for that refill. Maybe.

[jharvas]

shrieker.

Date: March 6th

Time: 0800

Place: Runswick Status: Open

Eyes widened upon hearing the sound of crisp white snow beneath her talons. The crunch was so calming! Shrieker couldn’t help but skip along the snow in a circle, her hands playing a upbeat tune as her feathers fluffed due to the cold.

It wasn’t long until she ventured further and further away from her main area and near the streets. She smiled so wide that her eyes nearly were closed in delight. Wherever snow did not make contact with her foot Shrieker soon substituted it by mimicking the sound itself!

Well, that was until she had bumped into a figure causing her to collapse onto her bottom. Black beady eyes blinked repeatedly to process what happened until the cold hit her like a tidal wave. And as her name may suggest, she shrieked and struggled to get back onto her feet - shivering already from the time spent outside.

It had already been a few days since his so-called celebration of his day of birth, a few days since he received a magical vial from the merchants, and yet he had not had the time to actually figure out what the vial was for. The invasion was still fresh in his mind. He had spent most of the days after the retaking of Arx swimming all over the docks and the seas and oceans nearby, vigilantly watching for any more of Ivana’s remains. The triton would not be caught surprised again.

At least, that was the prevailing idea. It had been days of quiet, of stillness, that he had woken up one morning feeling like he wanted to do something else, he should go somewhere else, out of the waters, and refresh his mind with other things lest he go mad. The sight of the untouched vial from the corner of his eyes spurred him into travel. 

“Here we are then,” he thought to himself, scowling, as he made his way through the streets, uncertain where to go or even what to do. He was just here. Heaving a sigh, he took out the vial from his person and stared at it, narrowing his eyes to focus on its contents. It was water, of that he was certain, but what kind and what for? “Maybe I should’ve paid attention to that merchant’s words.”

From out of nowhere, Jharvas felt something crash into him. He didn’t have time to react. As soon as the collision happened, the creature started...shrieking. The triton grimaced at the sound but he persevered in an attempt to apologize and help. “Are you all right? Are you hurt?”

[romera-shop]

JHARVAS’ 61st BIRTHDAY SURPRISE!

“Well hey, big guy! Happy birthday to you. I thought this might bring some nice thoughts of home for you while your up here helping us out.”

“Damp Friend” When this small vial of iridescent water is opened, the water flows out and whirls around in the shape of happy fish. When prompted, it sings with the sounds of the ocean. Perhaps it sings with the voice of a mournful whale, blows bubbles, or sounds like the lapping of waves upon a sandy shore. Careful not to let it evaporate entirely! After long uses, refill the bottle and let it regain its power before using it again. 

[jharvas]

“Oh, hey! This is… This is much appreciated, my friend.”

[jharvas]

efrain.

He simply nodded to the man’s words. He had no reason to doubt the man’s conviction or dedication to Arx, but he did wonder why. Perhaps it was simply its proximity to the ocean or because Jharvas just had an affinity for the city itself. Maybe it had simply grown to be his home. It didn’t particularly matter, not now and not to Efrain. He simply smiled mildly.

Efrain couldn’t discern how serious the man was being about Ivana or if he was simply steeped in unnecessary bravado. He found himself not caring, however, and turned away from the sea. “I doubt she’ll bother here again,” he said as he began to walk away. He watched his step, the rubble and ruined planks of the dock making his path treacherous. “She has every other port to harass. She won’t stop here, but I’m glad it has you to guard it.”

With that, Efrain spared the triton a glance over his shoulder before continuing up towards the city. He had work to do, and people to tend to to the best of his abilities, and standing around doing nothing but speak to a brave stranger would serve no one. “It was a pleasure to make your acquaintance,” he threw over his shoulder, but did not stop.

“The pleasure was all mine.” Jharvas watched as Efrain began walking away. He turned his attention elsewhere, towards the mess that was Arx, what remained of it, the stubborn parts that would not bend the knee to Ivana and her thugs, all while the echoes of the half-elf’s footsteps mingled with the ceaseless rumble of the seas in the triton’s mind. A memory prodded at him. In one of his earlier battles, Jharvas had elected to live and let live, choosing to steer clear of the defense of the ideals of his tribe that plunged them into war with another, and lost a good man, a good friend, a brother. How long has it been? Nine years, is it? Ten?

He wondered if the surface had made him hard, theirs, if any of it even mattered. The lurker did not give a damn, it seemed. Jharvas could have it any other way, whichever way he preferred, but he was drawn here, the flames bigger to his moth than of home. Ivana fanned those flames worse, and he wondered if it only served to awaken something in him that he never thought was. My blood is still salt, as it has always been, and my heart to the world, the people, regardless of how they look, breathe. We have paid the price, but the debt remains unsettled.

“Efrain...” He called out to him one last time, eyes back to the half-elf. “If Ivana does not return here, and she returns elsewhere, to another port or coast, wherever... Let me know. If you can.” What good is a protector when there is nothing to protect? Ivana will not get a second chance. These seas, these oceans, will not bend the knee to them. Not if Jharvas has anything to say about it. Not if Jharvas still breathes, swims. He will not let others suffer at her hands like this. He cannot.  

[jharvas]

efrain.

Efrain shrugged and hid his own wince at the jarring movement. “There are always battles, but they’re on the borders currently. I simply meant before you left the city. I think we’re all due for rest after this,” he said, though he had no intention of resting. There were too many things to do. He had to work, he had to help rebuild, and he and the other military leaders would strategize and continue to strike back against Ivana and her hate.

“Pleasure to meet you, Jharvas,” he said, his own smile dim in comparison to the stranger. “The storm has already been raging, and Ivana is just a part of it,” he continued with a sigh and crossed his arms over his stomach. “This… is the beginning of a new tactic. But it’s the same storm and she’ll strike again soon.”

Efrain wished he could give Jharvas some hope, even false hope, but he knew Ivana and he knew her ways. She may retreat for now and laugh at their agony, but she was a plague and would return, and return, and return until she had her way. “We should all try and gather strength while the calm lasts. Even if it’s only for a short while.”

There would be no safe anchorage at Arx then, or rather there never was to begin with. Not for a long time, if Efrain’s words rang true. Jharvas once wished to look upon the surface from the sea, to see it again as he had seen it last, a few months before, when his own curiosity had borne him away to be a guardian of these very coasts. On that day, he was half-submerged in the waters, listening to the nearby stroke of oars and the pounding of the captain’s orders against his sailors’ ears while he watched the docks rising from the distance. He still wanted this place to rise, larger than ever, from the seas before him.

“I will not leave the city. I like it here. I belong here.” That last part was for him to hear more than it was for anyone else. He wasn’t born of the surface, that much was obvious. Less was his insecurity, that he would forever be a tourist here, a visitor, even though he felt he wanted to be a bigger part of this new world. He has done a lot, still does, for all the surface dwellers he has met and will continue to meet. Yet he doubted he will ever feel truly welcomed because of his blood, because of his true nature. I am of the sea, of the depths. Even if I live here, die here, will it be enough?

He turned to Efrain and nodded, scowling. He was away when the invaders’ ships descended upon the docks. If he wasn’t, he wondered if it would’ve made any sort of difference. Either way, they were able to reclaim the city. They would have to do a better job not giving it away in the first place. “Whatever it is, we’ll be ready. Ivana will not be welcomed when she makes her return.”

[jharvas]

Location: Whale Water Port, Arx Date: February 28th Time: Evening Status: Self-Paragraph

Arx had spent the past few weeks victimized, brutalized, and almost conquered by a foreign power. It took some time, but King Rolland’s forces were able to avenge their own, chasing Ivana’s grunts back to wherever hole they had crawled out of. The battle would’ve been won, the city fully retaken, if not the weight for the losses suffered, the homes destroyed, the businesses annihilated, the lives reduced to painful memories. Even as Ivana’s forces were drawn back, the devils appeared to still savor the haunting they had unleashed on the people of Arx.

With the invaders withdrawing back to their ships, the furious mob composed of fishers, soldiers, and one angry triton did its best to make their retreat something the invaders would never forget, a lesson drilled into their heads of what happens should they return with a conqueror’s mindset upon these shores. It was the least they could do. 

Jharvas in particular hunted down a captain. Of course, he had no idea the scrawny old man was a captain, only that he wore a uniform that seemed to hold more prestige compared to the hundred others around him. Your men will not be able to save you.

Two of those lesser men tried to defend their captain as he tried to flee through the chaos of their ship getting boarded by the ragtag group of vengeful fishers and soldiers. Kiora in the form of an octopus even threw herself at the old man to keep him from getting away.

Jharvas shot first, hurling an agonizing eldritch blast at one of the soldiers who played defense for their ungrateful captain before willing a tentacle to rise out through the ship’s boards and grab that same soldier’s leg. In his panic and confusion, the tentacled soldier slashed at Jharvas’ arm but the triton managed to duck his second attempt. The other soldier, also panicked and fearful, tried to do the same, but the triton easily dodged both of his attacks. 

Jharvas hurled a second blast at the trapped soldier, with the tentacle tightening its grasp on the latter’s leg, breaking it with its cold, otherworldly strength. Through the pain, the same soldier slashed twice at the triton while the soldier whose legs were both free only managed to hit once, the triton kicking him back before he could land his second. With a third blast, Jharvas took out the trapped soldier and the tentacle quickly turned to the survivor. The remaining soldier tried to fight back, slashing at Jharvas who winced and grimaced at each sharp steel he tasted, but the triton’s furious blasts and tentacles, as well as his hellish rebuke, ensured that this soldier would join his comrade and not be an obstacle anymore.

The triton gritted his teeth, his arms and legs bloody from the slashes, as he made his way towards the captain whom Kiora had taken down to his knees by wrapping her tentacles around his face. It was a gruesome sight, though not out of place in this gruesome celebration of rightful vengeance. All around them steel warred against steel, fishers and soldiers and invaders screamed in fury or desperation, cannonballs exploded in the air to somewhat help as many of their own retreat back to their ships. 

Jharvas ignored everything else as he grabbed the captain and forced him back to his feet, knocking him out with a headbutt, before he heard one of his own scream to abandon ship. The triton caught a glimpse of cannonballs flying in the air towards them and scoffed. They are willing to sink their own just to keep themselves safe? With fury, he grabbed the captain and quickly dove into the water, barely surviving the explosion of the ship that inevitably followed.

Swimming through the wreckage, Jharvas dragged the barely conscious captain back to shore with one bloody arm. He groaned as he tossed the old man in front of him. Turning to his wounds, the triton scowled. He was in pain, mostly mild discomfort, really, but the thought that others in Arx have suffered worse fueled his anger. Jharvas grabbed the old man again and forced him back to his feet. “You have committed grave crimes against the people of Arx, and for that, you’ll be lucky if what awaits you is a grave—”

He stopped himself, instinctively turning around towards a familiar sound, the whizzing of a heavy, round object through the air. Everything happened so fast, Jharvas couldn’t even react appropriately. He soon found himself unable to keep the old man in his grasp, unable to stand his ground, unable to do anything but fly across the docks and crash through glass, the window of a small shack. He groaned as he landed hard on the wooden floor. Slowly, everything faded to black, the sound of more explosions, screaming, steel, and creaking accompanying him to unconsciousness.

[jharvas]

efrain.

Efrain only raised one brow at the triton’s excitement at the prospect of killed soldiers, but he couldn’t necessarily judge. Some men dealt with the tragedy and weight of war differently. Besides if the man this stranger sought was notably terrible, he couldn’t blame him for wishing him dead.

“I’m fine. I’ve already seen them, but everyone is prioritizing the mortally wounded. Once they’re tended to, and stable, they can begin treating those with lesser injuries.” He eyed the man again, curiouser this time. “If you plan to leave, or continue to fight, it’s a good idea to get even simple pains seen to before you leave.”

At the other man’s observation, Efrain couldn’t help the choked laugh that escaped him. “Do I? I feel the same. And you look the same… I don’t think that’s a unique condition today.” He glanced about the quay, but they remained alone. The light of morning was slowly, sluggishly dragging its way deeper into the city. “I’m Efrain, by the way,” he said, realizing he’d forgotten all sense of decorum with his exhaustion, and extended his hand.

Jharvas considered the man’s suggestion, though he wasn’t certain if there was still battles left he could fight. Last night had taken a great toll on him, and even though he still walked with the air of someone raring to fight some more invaders, in reality, he was a little broken down inside. Physically, of course, though emotionally a close second. 

Those good men that fought with him, they deserved better. They did not deserve to suffer such fate, having to raise arms to defend their loved ones. They were fisher folk, most of them, provider of food and sustenance. Did they have to provide their lives as well?

He started to move his neck around, massaging the part closer to his right shoulder. That flight, his fall, was not without a souvenir. He could feel his muscle ache, though thankfully, nothing felt broken. “Are there still battles nearby that need fighting? If not, I may just find rest for a while, let my bones and muscles fix themselves.”

He couldn’t help but laugh when Efrain pointed out the truth of the matter, taking a seat near him. The triton reached for his hand and shook it, grinning from ear to ear. “They call me Jharvas.” He let go and looked around them, wincing as he started to massage himself again. “You think this calm will last long? Or is this a prelude to another storm?” Jharvas hoped it wasn’t the latter, though something told him, hope would not be in his favor.

[jharvas]

efrain.

“I did not, no,” said Efrain, glancing about for the true source of the man’s voice curiously before settling back on his face. “I haven’t been here long, however, so he may have emerged before I arrived. If you’re looking for fellow survivors, they’re near the Institute, but if you’re looking for Ivana’s men they’ve either been killed or apprehended.”

Efrain looked the man up and down, noting the wear on his clothes and injuries. “There are clerics in the Institute as well. Once they finish with the more critical injuries you may want to pay them a visit.”

He couldn’t remember seeing this man during the last few weeks of turmoil, but that meant little. Hundreds and hundreds of people had fought. He didn’t look like one of Ivana’s cronies, however, and Efrain couldn’t bring himself to be curious beyond that. The last month had worn on him and now all he wished to do was return to Khaggon and his family. And, perhaps, actually sleep.

Jharvas could only sigh at the possibility that his prey had fully eluded him. It had been a while since he had any sight of his quarry and neither him nor this attractive stranger had caught even just a whiff of his treacherous shadow. The triton was delighted, however, and shamefully so, when the possibility that the captain was either killed or apprehended was introduced to his mind. Though he considered that those villains may not deserve mercy, their victims and survivors would definitely deserve justice. In whatever form necessary.

As he shook his head and forced the tiny smile off his face, he turned his attention towards the inner city. He had no idea where the Institute was, what it even looked like, but he hoped the survivors over there were safe. That would be the only silver lining he could appreciate, think of, for now. 

He turned to the stranger once more at the mention of clerics and injuries, the unsolicited advice of seeking them for help. The triton had not a peaceful night for the past week or so, and it was obvious in the way he looked. Others had worse nights, though, he knew, so he couldn’t complain. Nor did he want to. Every frustration, annoyance, hatred within him, he had taken out on those who unluckily crossed his path. His body might not agree, but it was well worth the fatigue and pain. “I will be all right. Will you?”

Jharvas looked the man over once more from head to toe, raising an eyebrow and nodding his head. “You look like you could use some sleep.” He grinned, or at least tried to, despite a yawn betraying him in the end. He could definitely use some sleep himself.

[jharvas]

Location: Whale Water Port, Arx Date: February 6th Time: Dusk Status: Open

After fleeing their predator without the need to draw any blood, Jharvas, Kiora in the form of a crab, and their fisher friend made their way back home. It wasn’t an easy trip nor was it quick, but despite the fatigue, they managed to persevere, only to be welcomed by the dreadful sight of smoke, fire, and the raised flag of those responsible for this swift, unexpected attack on Arx. Even though they were still far from the shore, Jharvas could hear the panicked screams of the townsfolk, the fearful cries of children, as foreign shores acting on their commanders’ greedy commands, tore through them unapologetically, indiscriminately, like a frenzy of hunter sharks lost in primal hunger. 

With a scowl on his face, the triton held his shocked friend, whispering to her, without moving his mouth, to find sanctuary somewhere...and quickly. He then nodded towards Kiora, a gesture that meant she needed to stay with the fisher to keep her safe, before leaving the pair for the shore, jumping off the boat effortlessly, and swimming as fast as he could towards the lesser populated part of the docks.

In his mind, he was stealthy enough, quiet as a guppy, swift as a swordfish, and sneaky as a stargazer. Yet, as he surfaced from the waters and scurried towards the nearest hiding spot, he almost stumbled over his own two feet, lost in adrenaline without a decent strategy. Thankfully, just for him, not for anyone else within the city, the invaders were too consumed by their lust for conquest to consider any threats from the seas behind them. Why would they? Their navy was the strongest, after all, and only a fool would try to fight them in the seas. A fool indeed.

Jharvas gritted his teeth as soon as he heard a nearby screaming. Clenching his fists, he readied himself to charge towards the source of the sound regardless of how many soldiers would be waiting for him. If he would die, then he would die protecting others. He just couldn’t sit there in the shadows, fearful for his own life, when many others were at death’s door. The Lurker in the Deep would understand. She would protect him.

He had just shifted his weight to one knee, not yet taking a full step, when something else caught his attention, someone else. He turned towards their direction and frowned, speaking only in his head to stay hidden (even though no soldier appeared to throw care in his direction). “What the hell?” 

[jharvas]

efrain.

Location: Whale Water Port, Arx. Date: February 29th. Time: Dawn. Status: OPEN.

The sun was barely sneaking over the horizon as Efrain trudged across what remained of the docks in Whale Water Port. The wrecked hulls of ships no longer smoldered, but still haunted the water. Sections of the dock were missing entirely and other sections had compacted onto each other into a mess of splintered, broken boards. Behind him the city continued to toil in the aftermath.

The days of panicked, flurried activity to get to as many survivors as possible had passed. Now it was time to rebuild, to remove bodies and see to them, and to try and move on in the face of Ivana’s taunting. This time, the silent moments where he was no longer needed as acutely, were always the most stifling to Efrain. He could cut down dozens of men a night, and had, but it didn’t change a thing. Homes were still dust, industry destroyed, and children were now parentless. And yet he’d keep doing it because perhaps one fewer child would be sent to the orphanages. Today he hoped there were at least two fewer, but that kind of hope only ever backfired.

Efrain felt like hell. The clerics could only heal so much and he’d refused treatment for anything non-lethal. Many others had as well.

Just as he was about to head back into the city, back to the bustle of other soldiers and citizens, he heard a creak of salty wood behind him and he turned to spot the newcomer. “Morning,” he greeted, purposefully leaving off the “good” usually customarily tacked onto the phrase.

“Morning...” Jharvas nodded at the stranger, the words slithering not out of his lips but somewhere else. He had taken a quick stock of him as soon as he could and then looked around them, as if searching for something else. After a few seconds, the triton heaved a sigh and shook his head, his hands finding their way on his hips. “You wouldn’t have happened to see a scrawny looking old man scurry out of all this mess, have you?”

Jharvas had spent much of last night’s battle out in the sea, where he was suddenly thinking he truly belonged. He still had little knowledge of the politics of the surface kingdoms, barely finding any motivation to get involved with all that chaos, but he had been staying in Arx for quite some time now, even made a few friends, and he wasn’t going to just stand idly by as a foreign power razed his new home to the ground, slaughtered his adopted family and friends, and ravaged his favorite fishing hole. He was going to fight back, protect this place, and he did.

As the tides of war turned back to their favor, which Jharvas believed was through the grace and mercy of the Lurker in the Deep, he and a few others, some soldiers, most fishermen, tried to make the invaders’ retreat memorable, their folly and ambition a lesson for future attempts to take what wasn’t theirs. Jharvas, in particular, tried to sink a ship or two, one of which he managed to take down before it could leave the harbor. What was left of it anyway. 

The rest of what transpired was a blur to him, a mad montage of screaming, steel warring against steel, and even an explosion or two. Somehow, he found his way back to shore, dragging the barely conscious captain of that particular ship he and a few others sunk before he heard a loud noise behind him. He remembered getting blown away by something, flying across the docks and crashing right into the window of a small shack. Then everything turned black and he woke up alone, without the captain, without his catch. 

[jharvas]

Day: February 6th Time: Afternoon Place: Off the coast of Arx Status: Closed (Self-Para)

To save his own life, Jharvas would have to kill. At least, that’s what his tribe used to tell him, the rest of their young, as part of their training. He was especially told that numerous times, more times than any of his peers, because of his inability to speak without Kiora, his friend and companion through only whose mouth he could. When he became a soldier, a warrior, for his tribe, he was well-prepared to heed their words. To save his own life, more importantly that of others, the triton would have to kill.

Those exact words filled his mind deep below the waters off the coast of Arx as he found himself staring down a giant shark, scarred and still voracious, having put himself between the predator and its prey, a fisher who asked for his protection while she dove for treasures unknown. To think that any treasure can be worth anyone’s life might sicken those against greed, but this one, a bounty of pearls from unsuspecting clams, the fisher’s only method to feed her child, can be excused.

In these depths, the giant shark reigned. It commanded respect, mostly fear, from those that find themselves foolish enough to trespass in its waters, yet Jharvas himself is no stranger to any sea, any ocean. The triton is protected, at the very least watched over, by an ancient power that has ruled more seas, more oceans, for more years, more decades, more centuries than all the sharks of this world can ever hope to swim in. Yet, while Kiora in the form of an octopus watches over the fisher behind Jharvas, the triton could find no more confidence to kill the shark than sympathize with its primal hunger.

“My friend, please reconsider...” Jharvas tried to persuade the beast to leave them be, appealing to its sense of logic and enmity through his patron’s grace. “We are not your enemies. We cannot be your prey. I do not wish to harm you, but if you decide to do anything rash, I will have to respond in kind.”

The shark should have understood his words, though he did not speak them with Kiora’s mouth. He directly communicated with the predator through its mind. The shark could have responded in the same method. Yet, it did not. It simply stared at Jharvas, its cold eyes filled with hunger, the most basic of urges, the most primal source of violence for all creatures. 

And then it lunged at him, jaws wide open, sharp teeth bared and primed to rip at the triton’s flesh. Jharvas instinctively shielded himself with his right arm, and for a split-second, had the presence of mind to will his patron’s tentacle to grab the shark’s tail to keep it from fully tearing his arm off, the same tentacle he had created earlier through his patron’s grace while pleading with the shark. Still, the triton could do nothing else but wince as the predator’s fangs dug in what it could of his flesh.

Jharvas swam back as the shark overpowered his conjured limb, forcing it to dissipate into nothingness once more, back to his patron’s own underwater realm. He narrowed his eyes at the predator, speaking directly to its mind once more. “I am sorry, my friend, but you have left me with no choice.”

Suddenly, the waters behind the shark started to form a vortex, a whirlpool, and as its current grew stronger by the minute, it started to pull the shark back towards it. Jharvas nodded and Kiora heard his voice in her head, urging her to swim as fast as she could with the fisher as soon as their friend was done with her task. The shark attempted to fight the makeshift whirlpool off, using all its strength, as much as it can muster, to swim away from it, towards its prey, its fangs bared and gaping, fueled only by its hunger and will to survive. 

Unfortunately, its efforts weren’t enough. Nature would not be beaten, not the seas, not the depths. The whirlpool triumphed over the shark and dragged it within its mercy, injuring it in the process. The shark attempted to power out of it again, but again, its efforts remained in vain. The whirlpool was much too strong, stronger than its hunger, and it injured itself further. 

Jharvas winced at the sight of this struggle but soon felt a hand on his shoulder. He turned around to find the fisher who nodded at him, pointing up. Jharvas nodded back at her and then at Kiora in octopus form. The fisher started swimming up and Kiora followed, dispersing her ink after them to obscure their attempt to escape. The triton then turned his attention back to the shark, still trying to power against the whirlpool, still hungry for him and his friend, still injuring itself in the process.

He lamented the curse of murderous hunger, the narrow-minded and inefficient path to self-preservation. “There is no sadder tale than a creature so consumed by desperation, it can no longer free itself.” He slowly turned upwards, swimming after Kiora and the fisher. To save his own life, Jharvas would have to kill. Yet, for as long as he can think of merciful ways to survive, he would rather not.

[jharvas]

jax.

Date: December 6th Location: Myrefall Time: Early evening Status: Open

Jax was on her way to her house when she heard it. A quiet whimpering. From what Jax could discern, it sounded more like an animal than a person, which was a bit strange this far away from the forest. Cautiously, Jax approached the alleyway to see what could be making the noise, more out of curiosity than anything else. When she saw what it was, her expression almost immediately softened from suspicion to concern. Laying down on the ground next to a wall, she saw a dog. A pitbull, from what she could tell. Its coat was a dark almost rust color, and it looked a little thin, like it hadn’t eaten very well recently. From where Jax stood, she couldn’t see a collar on its neck.

She felt bad for it. Slowly, so she didn’t startle the dog with sudden movement, she reached into her pack and pulled out a bit of food she had. It was just some trail rations, so it wasn’t much, but it was better than nothing. She began to move forward, and as she did, the dog growled suspiciously in her direction. But she held the food out towards it, and cautiously, the dog leaned forward to sniff at it. After a moment, it slowly reached forward and took the food from her hand. It still looked at her with some suspicion, but Jax couldn’t help but smile a little.

The dog began to growl quietly again at the same moment that Jax felt the presence of someone behind them at the mouth of the alley. She turned and looked towards them. “Hey,” she said quietly to the person, trying not to scare off the pitbull. “Do you think you could help me?”

It had been an exhausting day for Jharvas Suvorsath, a warrior of the deep. Even before the break of dawn, he was already up and about, doing most of his chores, including catching his own breakfast after a much-needed swim, all with that early morning scowl of his. Most people would fear it. Some might simply deem it rude or inappropriate. In the end, it was just his face, the only one he could wear whenever he was feeling inconvenienced after a general lack of sleep.

It was also how he survived on the surface world. Jharvas wasn’t from around here, that much was obvious. The triton came from the depths, spent much of his life down there in the unfathomable waters, a place hostile to most surface dwellers, and when he chose to rise, to walk around with two legs on the course ground where the sunlight could reach without any fuss, none at all, he was met with the stark realization that his new home had rules and systems different from his old one. 

It took him some time to get used to everything, and to this day, he was still getting used to new discoveries. Today, he needed to deliver fish. He had just done that, two whole baskets of which, and was on his way home when he and Kiora, his faithful companion who had taken on the form of a black mare on the surface, came across something interesting. Kiora warned him against it, but Jharvas’s intuition wouldn’t let him. So he followed the stranger. As far as he could. As quietly as he could. It could’ve been trapped, yet somehow, Jharvas knew it was worth the risk. At the very least, he’d get some exercise. 

Jharvas was watched as the stranger seemed to interact with...something. They quickly noticed his presence, Kiora standing quietly behind him, and in response, he narrowed his eyes at them, discreetly heaving a sigh. He didn’t know he had a scowl on. At least not immediately. To him, it was just his face. To others? It could’ve been intimidating. Still, help was the main thing on their mind, and they didn’t seem to care for anything else, much like Jharvas who also cared for nothing else, except for the possible need for his protection. 

“With what?” The bellow was his but his voice didn’t come out of his own mouth. Anyone keen would swear that it was the mare who had spoken.

[jharvas]

Player Task 003: Alternate Universe (Genderswap).

Female Jharvas Suvorsath, smaller and less hairy, has a white stallion named Sebast.