World-Skull Island

[Ulysses Septimus]

Skull Island the Pirate haven

[Kestrel Orne]

((aaaah I'm sorry POSTIN FOR HANNAHS. not sure how this all works on this forum hahaha.))

The Armada had been encroaching on them for some time now. At first, just Valencia’s war time heroes. What had won them the Polarian war, their ace in the sleeve. But now, after what had been happening, that all seemed like a distant memory. Valencia was closed. Sealed tighter than a cask of Yum, with no sign of allowing passage through it’s Stormgates, the fate of those within entirely unknown to those who dwelt outside. Then, slowly but surely, the Armada’s forces began to creep out of it’s home world and extended tendrils into the others. There were still places they had yet to reach, of course, but it was becoming increasingly obvious that it wouldn’t be for long. Not with whatever Kane, the Armada’s ever present, ever silent leader, had in store.

It had all been a farce to the pirates of Skull Island. Until the ticking of gears could be heard in their midst, right from the depths of the Ancient Ruins.

The majority of those who frequented the centre of activity in Skull Island weren’t concerned. Not yet, and not til the time came. It was simply how they were. All except Madam Vadima, of course. But it was her way of knowing things that others did not, and no one questioned her knowledge or the source of it. Which made her the choice of advice when a pirate was in need of such a thing. Yet Madam Vadima could not do absolutely everything, and for those tasks she relied on her students.

Such that it was that the small, lithe little creature came to sit in the basement of the Kraken’s Skull tavern. Even if it hadn’t been reserved specifically for the cautionary nature of such a meeting, most would have given her a wide berth. The bare bones of a skull tended to do that, even amongst pirates. Witchdoctors generally warranted some degree of suspicion, after all, especially those who dealt in the fine art of death and everything connected to it. The eye sockets dark as actual eyes were shut for a moment’s rest, though other senses kept alert for whomever that she was supposed to meet. Madam Vadima never wasted time on small details when something was urgent.

Kestrel only hoped that it wasn’t something too physically taxing.

[Hannah Durante]

"...I must be completely out of my mind."

Or incredibly desperate, Hannah thought to herself, as she slunk her ways through the streets of Avery's pirate haven, seeking out the tavern she had been told her contact would be waiting for her.   There was no turning back now, really.   She did need money for food, shelter, and while working at Fort Basset gave a decent amount...it wasn't always enough.    Especially now when they were more inclined to hire Marleybonean freelancers over a Valencian like her; too concerned with the past and the Armada's encroaching on these territories.   The buccaneer supposed she couldn't blame them, since she had proudly toted around her Polarian war service and connections as a means of being considered for hire in the first place, and it steadily seemed as if fate was working to tear the once grand allies apart.    The connections could only do so much....So she had to take whatever she could force herself to.

Though it was hardly an act of piracy that had brought her here tonight.  No, she was here seeking answers on a topic she knew next to nothing about.   It was an extension of her last major job, where she had been hired to help a Marleybonean lieutenant safe on her trek through the gold mines Monquista held a claim on.   Which, looking back, had not gone quite as smoothly as she had hoped...and she was still upset over the other human woman's stubbornness, though it could have gone so much worse.   While Bailey had gone off to Monquista to do other things for her kingdom, she had wanted to look into a matter that disturbed her; the fact the clockworks, according to one of the natives of that island, had been meddling with things old and evidently magical.

Things a buccaneer like her couldn't even begin to fathom...though she had hopes one of the witchdoctors on skull island could point her and her contacts in the right direction, on what was going on.   Hannah sure hoped so as she finally made it into the tavern, wasting no time pushing her way through the crowds gathered tonight and making her way to the cellar.  It had been a feat in itself stealing a very peculiar item from the clockwork's own camps, so she would be fairly disappointed if it had been all for naught.

Fortunately, there  was somebody else down here- and if this look didn't scream witchdoctor, Hannah wasn't sure what would.  The figure resting at the table was certainly intimidating, though she wouldn't be deterred by this other's unusual appearance.    This could be an incredibly valuable ally, after all.

"Are you...Kestrel?"

She thought that was the name she had been given, but she wasn't so sure at the moment.

[Kestrel Orne]

“…aye.”

The voice that answered was low, with a faint growl to it that didn’t come from emotion, but physical stress. Beyond the dark sockets, she finally opened her eyes, turning her head slightly to look at the newcomer. The young woman certainly didn’t seem like the typical sort that came through the area, but in light of the events of the Spiral lately, and her own experiences, Kestrel had no room to judge. It was unusual to see a human these days, however, that was of no concern to her.

“Madam Vadima… mentioned there was… something you brought.”

It was as if she were short of breath. Not even her own weaknesses gave her that sort of taxation. There was something dark, something dangerous in the room. And the blonde had brought it with her. Whether she knew it or not.

“…you have it here.”

It wasn’t even a question. She could feel it. The dampening effect it had was overwhelming. Kes was almost tempted to flee back to the ship and her crew where she could breathe. She reminded herself that Vadima had trusted her with this task, forcing herself to take a deep breath and remain. Just long enough to see the source of the aura, and give the young woman advice on what she should do.

With this sort of feeling, Kestrel suspected that losing it below the skyway may not have been a terrible idea.

[Hannah Durante]

The voice that emerged from the witchdoctor was perhaps even more unsettling than her appearance, though Hannah bit back her trepidation for the moment. She wasn't sure she entirely trusted those that used the kind of dark magic their kind were famous for, but at the same time, she couldn't afford to judge anybody based on something like that. Especially not when only a witchdoctor would be able to tell her what this was. The natives of the island the ancient ruins were on she had asked either did not know their true significance, or were unwilling to talk about it.

A witchdoctor was her last hope, and perhaps on a place like Skull island, where resistance members were born and bred, spellcasters would be more inclined to work with her if they believed it meant gaining valuable insight or any advantage whatsoever on the clockworks.

Her eyes widened when the raspy voice, which sounded strangely out of breath, indicated she had brought it. Could...could she actually sense the object's presence? She could feel absolutely nothing of it, and knew very little of magic, so the very thought surprised her briefly before she realized it was sensible. Along with the fact it likely meant there was dark magic to be found in the jar.

"There is....and I did." She finally admitted a moment later as she approached the table, selecting a seat close enough to the witchdoctor, but not right on top of her. Hannah reached into the bag she had been carrying over her shoulder, gingerly pulling out an ancient, odd-looking jar with inscriptions riddled all over it and setting it on the table before them.

"Can you...feel it?" She prodded curiously, looking the witchdoctor in the eye as she did. "Can you tell me anything about it?"

The buccaneer fell silent for a moment, before her mind saw fit to remind her that it would be wise to also include the part about where she had gotten this in the first place.

"...It might also interest you to know I stole this from a clockwork camp that had set up on the island the Monquistans draw their gold from. They had many of these, but this was the only one I was able to obtain."

[Kestrel Orne]

There was a catch in her breath as the object was finally brought into view. It looked harmless enough, but the aura emanating from the cracks in the purple clay and around the seal at the top was something else entirely. Steeling herself in the face of the perceived threat, Kestrel lifted her hands to study it, touching it only barely with the Waponi claws at the ends of her fingers.

“…it is not of the Hollow’s make.” The witchdoctor finally admitted, using the word for the Valencian-made threat that the native Water Moles and Troggies used, hesitantly turning the jar. “Very old, almost ancient. And very dark.”

A couple claws lifted to test the seal, where a faint purple vapour seemed to leak, but then her resolve failed her. It was rarely clever or wise to open such suspicious things, after all. And there were far worse things in the Spiral than a few prank-loving pirate ghosts haunting their old treasure chests. The witchdoctor placed the jar back onto the table and slid it a short distance away, as if it helped her breath return to her.

“Dark… but not a danger. Not yet. Not in the Hollow’s hands. Until they choose.” The skull turned until the orange eyes fixed on the human woman. The strange and unusual circumstances and qualities of the object prompted more of a dialogue from Kestrel than what she would usually offer. But she had never seen such a thing. “For what purpose, I wonder.”

There had been no reports of any Armada faction using magic or hoodoo. This new foray could prove to be very dangerous. If not just to Skull Island, but the Spiral and the Armada itself.

[Hannah Durante]

Hannah listened and watched intently, absorbing every scrap of information she could gleam from the witchdoctor's body language just as much as she was gaining from her words. It became clear in the first few minutes of inspection that what she had brought back was truly dangerous, almost intimidating indeed.

Just as she had feared. The Armada knew very little about magic much like herself, but they had the rationale to look for any advantage they could to make themselves that much stronger, and she had worried they would put in the research to ensure any trinket like this they went after was valuable to their cause in some way.

The biggest question now was, how was this object valuable? What did it give them, that would drive the soldiers to having collected as many as she had seen? These were things she prayed the other woman would be able to answer, that her own magical gifts would lend at least some understanding to what was going on.

Unfortunately, it seemed the item was ancient, too much so for the witchdoctor to produce more than vague answers on. Still, it was better than nothing. Though she didn't like the sound of what the other had said, or implied. She knew it to be truth as well, that ultimately it would eventually prove dangerous in their hands- perhaps to a degree even the clockworks could not foresee.

"..I had hoped you might have been able to see that, but...I think we can both agree whatever their purpose is, it is nothing good. Dark magic in their hands....I fear to imagine the sort of things they might do."

She returned the witchdoctor's gaze, looking almost desperate now.

"Is there any way you know of to dispel such a thing? I doubt any of us can hope to wrench every single one they plundered from their hands, but...If it were possible to find a way to counter or neutralize this energy, there would be no need."

She held little hope it would be knowledge much of anybody knew these days, but she had to at least try to see if there was anything that could be done.

[Kestrel Orne]

Kestrel remained silent for a long moment, eyes turned back to the jar cautiously. While there was no sign that whatever darkness it contained could break the seal on it’s own, there was no room for doubting the possibility. After all, the Armada may have weakened the seal in some way, in their effort to bring about whatever they had intended.

“… if we were to know what these were meant to do.” She started, quietly. “The Isle of Doom… has many dark secrets. Thought to be lost to the Troggies. But if the Hollow had some plan using Troggy magic…”

She fell quiet again, attempting to sort through the scenarios in her own head before putting them into the blonde’s. The Armada would never get any sense from the Troggies. Different tribes could scarcely communicate to each other, let alone to other species, and a mechanical crafted one at that.

“…perhaps if…” Despite her best efforts, Kestrel found herself speaking along with her thoughts as they progressed. “…if the source or other parts of the spell were… destroyed… Were there other relics… things that they were interested in alongside the cursed jars?”

It was a long shot, but it may have been worth a try.

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