Payout Guide

[Monthly Event] Feast of Beasts Part I

The ship creaked and rocked under the strain of the rough seas. On deck the crew was working hard to keep equipment secured while also adjusting the billowing sails. The rain was coming down in sheets so thick that the captain at the helm almost didn’t catch sight of the blinking light in the distance. He turned to his second who confirmed what his eyes had already told him. A cry for help was coming from the island of Marrette.

In weather as foul as they were experiencing it felt almost convenient to change course and aid the islanders. So the captain shouted out to the crew and gears began to shift. It was the second who ultimately went below decks to inform the passengers.

As babies screamed, objects flew, and seasick passengers vomited word began to get around that the ship was heading towards land. The relief was palpable. At least, until news reached the ears of one particular curio wedged between two crates of cargo seemingly dead to the world.

“I wonder how long the delay will be?” A blue and white curio wondered out loud. Syn’s ear flicked once and then twice.

“What did you say?” She asked.

The other curio hadn’t noticed her till she spoke and jumped a good two feet in the air in response to her question. “By the saints! I didn’t see you there!” He exclaimed.

“I said: What did you say?” Her usually relaxed countenance was tense. She didn’t humor the curio as she might have on another occasion.

“The ship. We’re heading to dock on an island. Apparently there is trouble and they need helping paws. Between this freak storm and the Feast of Beasts you’d think something mystical was afoot… My name is Malley by the way!” He stuck out a paw and she shook it absentmindedly.

“And no one has complained? They’re just all okay with losing like two days travel over some country crisis?” She scanned the other curios in the hull hoping to find someone of the same mind as her on the subject. She found nothing of the sort. She scanned the crowds again and found something more troubling. “No one here is particularly experienced.” Some of the unbeaded babies were probably more dangerous than the fat scholars looking green in the face. She eyed her new friend with the same critical once over. “Archaeologist’s Guild?” She guessed.

“Yeah! How did you know?” Malley checked his body over for any sign of the Guild insignia but found none. “Lucky guess?” He asked.

“Hm, something like that.” Syn said with a hint of a smile. He had just struck her as naive and looking for adventure. The hallmarks of the Archaeologist’s Guild. Had he tried to show her his spear immediately or sell her something well… She had other guesses for curios who behaved that way..... [read more]

[Expedition Collab] The Beach House Part I

The gentle sound of the surf was a constant on the beach. For some, they would consider it an unpleasant reminder of the dangers of the sea. By all rights, she would have been justified in thinking the same. But it had been so many years now that the horrors of time past had faded. The surf meant that she was home. She could almost tell how high the tide was by the sound of water slapping specific rocks, and when the sea was low and quiet, that was when she worried the most.

Herbs stewed alongside the current pot of dinner. The heady scent of medicine mixed in with the sharper, more savory aroma of the mixed seafoods, and if she hadn’t been a doctor of several dozen years, it might have made her lightheaded. As it were, she just hummed along with her daughter’s jaunty tune as the small kit played on the kitchen floor.

She tilted her head to the side as the vacant face of a peekadee slowly levitated up towards the stove top.

“No peekadees at the oven.”

“He wants to see.” A little ways below the peekadee, another face looked up imploringly. “He’s dying of a deadly disease and only has five months to live. He’s on the search for a snail of particular shape.”

“And will this snail cure him?” The corners of her eyes crinkled as she smoothly cracked an egg into the broth. The peekadee opened his mouth, and Storm placed the eggshell delicately between the sharp edges of his little beak.

“No. But he thinks it will.”

“I see.” Storm nodded solemnly. “But if the snail won’t cure him, what will?”

“We haven’t figured that out yet.” The peekadee was surprisingly deft when he flipped his head back and gobbled the eggshell almost whole. Tiny bits of shell scattered to the floor around Lizzy, making the small kit laugh and drop him with an ‘ewwwww’. The Peekadee proceeded to pick up the bits off the floor, and try to give Storm’s feet a few pecks as well, just in case.

She shoved him gently to the side with a foot. “Well, he’s certainly getting spoiled and fat while Wave takes their sweet time getting back, isn’t he?”

Lizzy gasped, as if a thought had never occurred to her, and swept up the peekadee in her arms again. He didn’t resist a bit, almost going limp as she dragged him to and fro. “That’s IT!! I bet true love will cure him!”

“Oh?” Storm stirred the pot, and the pattering of small paws heralded Lizzy nearly sprinting towards the patio door.

“If Wave gets back, Basti will be saved for sure!”

The older woman made an agreeable hum to herself, barely keeping her smile in check as Lizzy searched the beach outside.

“Hey! There is someone out there! Mom, can I go look?”

===

From everything he’d heard, he’d fully expected the Mainland to be crawling with hungry monsters from every corner and crevice. Instead, he found it was full of quiet places, tucked between cities and roads, sometimes stretching into miles of serenity. It was an odd, but not unwelcome contrast to the months he’d spent buried in the stress of the Blues’ caverns.

Sleep was still difficult to come by, but at least while he was awake, he could enjoy the water. He found himself idly timing the waves, counting as the wind blew through his hair and whiskers. The shellmech lay idly behind him, set to rest and powered down, with one of its sides propped open to create a small awning. The storage space on that side had been converted to a small, but surprisingly cozy bed- there wasn’t really room for anything else, and he had little in the way of personal affects these days, but it was a relatively safe space to lay his head- the dents and scratches in the shellmech attested as much. Maybe tonight, he’d leave it open as he slept.

Samovey took a deep breath in, and slowly let it out again. The tiny campfire snapped and spat cinders at his feet. For the first time in a long time, he found his head empty of thoughts, at peace with the rhythm of the tide.

Or at least, he was. Rumpled ears turned as his whiskers twitched. He’d long since learned to recognize when he was being watched- it was a skill critical to surviving the ebb and flow of Tonpelli politics, but even more so in the wake of cyborgs and monsters.

“Can I help you?” He didn’t bother turning to look anywhere, asking the question into the open night. If they answered, well, they answered. If he was going crazy at last, at least there was no one around to witness it.... [read more]