travels

[Paragon]

P A R A G O N

There appeared a door. Do you enter?

[Vypsan]

Glade ???, 123

Vypsan was lounging in his solar pool, as the warming sunshine beat down on the surrounding desert. His chest out of the water, he reached over with his right hand, grabbing the stem of a crystalline goblet filled with a deep red wine, bringing it to his lips and taking a sip. A soft pair of footsteps approached and he turned and took in the sight of the dark skinned elf in her sheer robe. He watched her idle over toward one of the chairs, laying out upon it, pulling out a book to read.

Without looking up from her pages, Jira asked, "Where's Ilyana?"

A smirk grew on Vypsan's face as he face back forward to look out over the gorgeous, golden expanse, "She'll be along. Any moment now."

Jira hmphed and got back into her book and Vypsan set his wine down closing his eyes. A few moments later he exhaled deeply through his nostrils, a boyish grin teasing the corners of his mouth. His left hand came out from the water, stretching out along the stone edge of the pool. A moment later, cerulean dreads followed by deep green eyes and aquamarine, pointed ears rose from the water, followed by feral grin that showed off pointed teeth. The Neptori woman slinked up Vypsan's body, reaching for his wine. As her naked chest rested against his, he stared into her eyes, finding the color to be truly stunning, and not one he had ever seen in nature, finding himself momentarily fascinated.

Then she closed her eyes as she drank the wine and his moment passed.

She set the wine down, seeing her friend Jira reading, smirking knowingly. Ilyana pulled herself into Vypsan's lap, a pout forming in her lips, "I'm hungry."

Vypsan let his eyes trail down the curves of her body and back up to her own, "Well I'd hate for you to lose the best parts of you."

Jira's eyebrow raised but she made no sound or other motion aside from turning the page of her book.

Vypsan let out a shrill whistle, one he learned from a nomad lass, and a few moments later, the elderly elven cook arrived, standing quietly at attention. "Stir fry some of those fennecs I brought in yesterday. Make it spicy." Then he pondered, "And stuffed grape leaves." He loved when she made those. "Bring us some olives while we wait. And more wine." The woman nodded, turning to leave, as Ilyana made a bit of a noise to go with her now more exaggerated pout. A sigh from Vypsan's lips, "And something sweet for the ladies."

A few hours later...

The trio were all lounging in the solar pool now, finishing off yet another bottle of wine and the last bits of the halva on the platter. Vypsan was just starting to kiss along the curve of Jira's neck, a soft sigh escaping her lips when Ilyana piped in, "What's that?"

Vypsan cast his eyes up but continue to kiss along the woman's collarbone. There in the distance was what seemed like a mirage. He went through the motions of looking through his eyelashes, squinting, opening wide, traits of the desert people to weed out mirages caused by the desert heat and it never abated. It seemed that there was some sort of doorway, a portal of some sort, down in the sands, just outside of his oasis.

He pulled himself away from Jira, who turned, looking annoyed. Vypsan stood up there in the shallow pool, looking down at this mysterious doorway. His eyes studied and scrutinized it, wondering if it was the work of magic or mayhaps the gods. And if so, which? It may have interrupted his fun but at least it didn't trespass onto his territory. Perhaps this could be a new pleasure to pursue. He turned, looking back to see Jira and Ilyana looking at each other with hooded eyes, scooting closer in the water.

Maybe in the morning.

The next morning...

Vypsan finished dressing and adorning his light armor, and checking over all the gear in his pack. He'd readied the saddlebags already and knew that all of his gear was in place just as he liked it. He packed enough rations for a two week trip and already had his breakfast. He looked through the doorway, seeing Keija preparing breakfast for the girls who were still asleep in each other's arms. He walked in, admiring the way the woman, many generations his senior had still managed to keep her figure tight and alluring.

"If you keep staring boy, I'll make you prove that you're too young for me."

He snorted, "I can only hope to be so lucky for the chance."

The woman turned, crossing her arms, wooden spoon in hand, "I'm going to see where this door goes. I don't know how long I'll be gone. I'll pay your contract until the end of the season." She shrugged, seemingly happy with that, "And those two?"

He snickered, turning, "Keep them fed if they desire it, but take no orders from them. If they wish to leave or stay, I care not."

"Understood."

Vypsan stepped back out of the kitchen into the sunlight, "Safe travels Master Vypsan."

A smile grew on his face. Not too safe, he hoped.

And with that, he made his way to the stables, readied up Sweetpea, mounted his trust basilisk, and the pair made their way down to the Doorway, and without so much as a pause, disappeared through it.





Vypsan Speech

Vopisca Speech

[Hilana Chenzira]

Glade ???, Year 124


Well, Hilana thought to herself as she looked up from where she was harvesting Clavicorona Pyxidatus, the King's Crown Flaming Fungus, never a dull moment. Maybe someone was going to come on through it, though she kind of hoped not. This area was delicate, it was intensely hot, and she liked having her harvesting spots to herself.

Magical doors appearing out of nowhere was odd, and considering the amount of trouble she had gotten herself and others into before by touching things, especially obelisks that clearly said they were gateways, one could imagine why. But all the same, the Vastiana watched the door for a while. Her curiosity was piqued, her Wildness was whispering, encouraging her to check it out. She had her Ring of Traversion, and if need be, she could surely return herself home. She heaved a sigh and returned her attention to the delicate fungi.

These ones weren't for eating, after all, but she needed them for work up above in the Luxium. Those who knew what they were doing would have no problems with the collection, but the amount of people who didn't know what they were doing just damaged the plants and the parts of them that were needed to create the coagulant pastes and powders rendered them useless with their carelessness. Their usual supplier that liked to trade for their above-ground grown plants, hadn't been able to complete Vasilei's order, and Hilana was not returning to work empty-handed.

Settled on her knees in the warm, dark ground, her skirts gathered around her, the herbalist plucked the King's Crown, humming one of Finn's songs to herself. 'Walk out into velvet, nothing more to say. You're my favourite moment, you're my holiday. 'Cause you're my number one...' It was so catchy, that when they'd returned from Kalzasi, she had made him sing it for her again later. The beat was perfect for her, considering the rhythm. While her head bobbed in time to the humming, her fingers and hands were still and calm. Plucking was better than cutting, because cutting left part of the plant exposed. And that nub wouldn't signal to the main plant that was buried within the ground that the mushroom had been removed, which wouldn't activate the plant to produce more, which would mean less regrowth in the future. One by one, the plucked fungus would be carefully cleaned off with a soft cloth and a sharp little knife, the dirt removed, and the bottom piece of stem that had been submerged in the earth was cut off and laid back down in it. It would break down there, and return the nutrients to the soil once again.

The cleaned fungus could then be placed in her woven bamboo basket, and she would continue onto the next one. Only once she had the basket full did Hilana get up, dusting off her vibrantly-dyed skirts, and eye the door that was still there. It hadn't moved, nothing had come out of it, no Sentinels had come to inspect it. She was still looking at it as she put her knife away in her rucksack and closed up the basket, securing the lid before slipping it into the Featherlight Satchel. The rucksack was repositioned on her back, the Satchel strapped across her body, resting on her hip, while she kept on looking at the mysterious door.

She knew better. She did. And instead, Hilana walked up to it, activating her Rune of Semblance, and blinking her eyes 'open' once more. Brown was replaced with the ever-changing kaleidoscopic colours of the elements that she had attuned to, a sure sign of the Rune, as she scrutinized it. She sought to try to understand if it was anchored to anything, who had cast it, or where it might lead. After several minutes, the girl blinked away her Sembling sight, and stepped on through.

The greatest adventure is what lies ahead...

[Astraea]

At night, the Midnight Mother’s temple grounds had always been impossibly quiet, like an invisible blanket had been thrown over it and the world around it. Back when Astræa first joined the temple, her fellow novitiates had always spoken about how eerie it felt and they would hate the night shifts.

Not Astræa. She liked it. The stillness. The silence. It was the darkness that she wasn’t as fond of.

The wooden doors creaked painfully as she pushed it with her shoulder, stubbornly fighting against her. On a regular day, Astræa would struggle to open it by herself. Tonight, with her face still flushed from the alcohol, it took her straining against it for a while before it finally revealed a crack large enough for her to slip through.

Once she was inside the main chapel, the young woman let her aether flow and a small ball of flame flickered to life just above her head. The place was unsurprisingly empty. The clacks of her sandals filled the room, accompanied by the whisper of her dress dragging across the floor. Astræa walked up the aisle until she was standing in front of the giant statue of Varvara.

The obsidian was polished so flawlessly that she could see her reflection - albeit somewhat distorted - on Her robes. Astræa couldn’t help smiling at the sight of what a mess she was. Her pale hair had mostly escaped its bun and she was still clad in a white silk dress that exposed her shoulders. The starborn had spent the better part of her night in a revelry, drinking and frolicking in a cabaret with a few other priestesses. The night had ended earlier than expected when one of them drank a little bit too much and proceeded to vomit a concerning amount. They then split up, a few girls helping heading out to the nearest healer and the rest deciding to go home.

Astræa didn’t really want to go home so she started wandering through the streets of Umbrium. She had thought of finding another cabaret to continue her night, but before she could decide on which, the young woman had found herself already standing on the street where Her temple stood on the other side. Just like that fateful night, her legs always led her to Varvara whenever she had nowhere to go.

She didn’t even know what she was planning on doing here.

With a sigh, Astræa lowered herself down on one of the pews and threw her head back. She closed her eyes and drifted off before she knew it. It could have been minutes or hours, but a sudden breeze stirred her awake. Her eyes fluttered open only to see a portal filling the archway in front of her. Usually, the place should lead to the dorms, but the hall wasn’t even visible now.

Perhaps it was because of the mix of her curiosity and the alcohol… Astræa stood up and walked towards it. She paused until she was barely an arms-length away from it. A part of her wondered if it could be something sinister. It definitely could, but she was standing in a house of Varvara. Nothing should happen here without Her knowing, right? There must also be a reason why the doorway appeared in front of Astræa with no one else around.

Heart pounding with excitement and maybe a little apprehension, the starborn priestess stepped through the threshold.

[Torin Kilvin]

The man who made his slow, ambling way through the forest of the valley was young. Young to be a master of his craft, young to be the lord of his lands, young to be the owner of a shop with apprentices under him. He had earned all the things that were his, but sometimes, perhaps often even, he did not feel as though he had.

The day had been spent at his forge, the larger one that he had just constructed in his new home, or what he hoped would eventually come to feel like his home, working on the large seasonal order that came from his patrons, both of his craft and his newly granted nobility.

Torin still couldn't wrap his head around the fact that he was, however lowly in comparison to most, a lord in his own right. It was terrifying, knowing that there were people who relied on him to ensure both their livelihoods and their safety and he had taken to both with an intense seriousness and had spent a great deal of the money he'd made in the past three years since he'd started his own business on building a whole village.

Now, as the sun began to dip towards the horizon he was walking into the woods that ringed the long narrow valley, just enjoying stretching his legs and learning the lay of the land. Mind wandering he did not notice the oddity until he was quite close to it. By the time he turned in the right direction to see the doorway in the middle of the otherwise untouched forest, he was only about twenty feet away from it.

The blond head tilted and Torin frowned. There was another doorway sitting attached to nothing in his valley, he had built it himself of river stones and local timber but he knew why it was there and where it would go if he turned the knob. This looked like no door he had ever seen, but he knew, on an instinctive and Sembling level that a door was what it was.

Approaching slowly he wondered if one of his companions had built another door that would allow any of those who held the magic Torin had crafted to enter and exit the otherwise inaccessible valley. It would be like Aurin to have a backup hidden somewhere but it didn't feel like Aurin, not his intention nor his aura lingered about the door. In fact, as far as the smith could tell, it didn't feel like it had any aura at all.

Stepping closer with caution he didn't call out, simply approached, wanting to get a better look to see if it might pose a danger to his people. When he was an arm's length away he circled it and found that it appeared the same from all sides. Reaching out with one gloved hand he tried to touch it, but instead, all at once, he was falling through.

[Læbirius]

۞•☠•۞

☠ Books. Towers of them surrounded Laebirius as he sat secluded in a massive library. Many of the tomes and books he had around him were collections on past chiefs, how they killed their primals, as well as many war and tactical books as well. If he was going to take the Queen of Kythera down he had to be well prepared, exhausting all his options.

He had been looking for ways to deal with the ever-growing plant primal, whether through killing it or subduing and controlling it. Whatever the case he was engrained in his study. Dinok had been coiled around his chair, summoned some time ago to keep watch as a level of precaution just in case. Though his transition into Ecithian like was coming along slowly but smoothly, the paranoia still lingered if only for a moment. He wouldn't be caught off guard, not now nor ever. The chittering of the demonic centipede kept watch over its summoner, looking up and chittering at Lae every now and again.

An hour had passed and one of the piles of books had become nonexistent and he needed to replenish his source material. Getting up from the table he went to shop for more reading matter, picking books from the shelves as if shopping a market. For him, however, it was a market of valuable intel. He had been so lost in his search he never saw the door manifest. It wasn't till he was coming back to his seat that he saw it.

The sound of books hitting the floor echoed as he found himself startled by the door. Where the table he was at once was stood a door. Nothing special, just an ordinary door. Dinok coiled around him, hissing violently at the door. It was clear the demonic spirit was agitated by its presence. He wondered if this was a hallucination from being so focused on his research, but the longer he looked at the door the more he realized it was real.

He took a breath and took a step closer to it, a feeling washing over him, as if there was an unspoken invitation for him to venture through. The closer he got he could feel that inviting feeling growing more and more, and if he was being honest with himself he was curious as to where this door could lead. Picking up his axe and shield, he called out to Dinok as the demonic spirit came to coil around the door. With a deep breath and an ever-pounding heart, he opened the door and proceeded through, the demonic centipede scuttling through it as well behind him. ☠

۞•☠•۞

"Common Speech"
"Vastian Speech"
"Vallenor Speech"
"Self-Thoughts"

[Paragon]

P A R A G O N

Stepping across the threshold of the doorway the sound of music drifted to the ears of all who entered the space. Greeting them was an oasis in the middle of a pristine desert of white sands suspended in twilight. Colorful lanterns in jewel tones lined a cobblestone pathway leading to what looked to be a collection of tents, kiosks, and entertaining sights of all sorts. The smell of food drifted on the air mixing with various perfumes.

“Oh! Excuse me, pardon me!” Shuffling past the gathered travelers, a short Gnomish woman jogged forward. On her back was a pack that looked to be stuffed to bursting. Various pots, pans, and tin cups dangled from the pack. As she trotted forward along the path, she paused and turned to look back at the crowd.

“Well don't just stand there, sillies! You'll miss all the fun!” She waved them all forward before running ahead and toward the sound of people, music, and the many strange and enticing smells drifting on the winds.

Traveling along the path just on the outskirts of the tents, kiosks, various rides and attractions was a sign post at a four-way crossroads.

North - Festival of the Far Realms and where the gnomish woman had gone.
West - Maze of Champions
East - Palace of Plenty
South - Ransera

Where do you go?

[Tailen]

Travels
Glade ??, 124th Year, A.o.S.

An impossibly strange thing had turned up for him when Tailen had least expected it to. Well, that went without regard to what sight awaited him once he'd risen out of bed, startled by the rather odd dream he'd experienced before his gaze shifted to the window next to his bed. It had ended when he'd thought himself swallowed by a pitch-black pool, and the moment of fear from drowning within prompted him to react. Quite physically too, as the younger sibling's mind raced at the gripping reality of the setting before him.

The hearth downstairs still cracked with a soft warm fire, the burning embers still cast a glow visible from the space that made his room. He could hear the faint snores of his older brother across the floor, as Byron remained fast asleep in the depths of the Land of Nod. A comforting sight to say the least, and while their mother was also likely asleep, Tailen felt himself far too alert to easily slip back into slumber.

Thus, what else had caught his attention just outside his window? It provided him with a nice view of the well centered at the heart of the villa, and usually at night either the torches or the moon's glow typically outlined its silhouette. However... Tonight there lingered a different outline near the well, bearing the shape of a door vacantly resting in the village's square. Had anyone else noticed this particular structure there? It wasn't there when Tai fell asleep earlier tonight, and it was difficult to imply whether he still dreamt in the Land of Nod or not.

Well that isn't peculiar at all. The young lad remarked to himself as he turned to quietly rise from his bed, with his feet planted cautiously on the floor to minimize sound. He didn't wish to disturb his mother and brother after all, and even if this were some kind of dream, and so he silently prepared for an investigation that would lead him outside the comforts of his home. Having slipped on his tunic and trousers, Tailen waited until he snuck out the door before slipping on his boots. The ground was still moist from the cold and his breath was visible in the glow of the night, but somehow, all that still paled in comparison to the enigma that resided in front of him.

After he walked to approach the doorwayTailen noticed something about it, the boundaries that made the doorway seem magical in nature, carrying within them far-off sounds of music and laughter to whatever lay beyond the door. He hesitated before he reached out and for a moment, the door responded with a crack of the frame. Split down the middle the doorway swung ajar to reveal brightness before him, before Tailen was faced with the decision of entering through to the other side. Whatever remained beyond sounded exciting, maybe even enticing, for one who was as young and curious as Tailen was.

Is it a portal? To... Where? He slowly approached to step closer, and then eventually, beyond the threshold of the doorway into this vivid new world. White sands. Colorful lanterns. Even a vast field of kiosks and tents. Is this a gathering place? His narrowed eyes finally widened as he grew adjusted to the brightness, and suddenly he realized that he wasn't alone, when a gnome rushed past him and a bunch of others that stood before him. Oh wow, that-

Tailen's head tilted as he realized just how heavy the womanly gnome's luggage appeared to be. Should I go help her? Carrying that much can't be good for her posture. He reckoned as he considerably debated the idea, long enough for the short stranger to beckon for the rest of the arrivals to join in as well. Hang on... Did we all enter at the same time? As confused as he became stricken Tailen crossed his arms in thought, pondering what he should do from here, and of course the best way to go about doing it.

There are a bunch of other strangers here like me. They all seemed rather taller than him too, Tailen was considerably lucky that he remained taller than the female gnome from earlier. Before I go along with any of this though, I should check and make sure if any of it is real... And to do that exactly? Tailen didn't want to think of falling like in his last dream he had, although, such moments were quite effective at waking oneself up when having such experiences. Rather than resort to that though, the lad simply opted for a couple of soft pats on his own cheeks. They weren't enough to generate any sort of waking reaction, and as alert as he still felt, Tailen immediately realized that this wasn't a sort of dream he'd blundered within.

Well, if we're supposed to go places... then I guess we can just pick whatever, right? Tai pondered as he glanced about to observe everyone, curious to know who these people were, and as to where they'd go once they picked their routes. "Hello! Please to meet all of you!" The lad called out with a courteous bow to those present, before he straightened and focused on where he thought the Gnome went. "I'm going to see if that lady needs help, I hope you all enjoy your time here!"

Tailen gave the group a rather warm smile, perhaps far more friendlier than one should treat with strangers, but nonetheless he welcomed them before he started off after the Gnomish woman that had gone north. Eagerness possessed him now and the inner child within was alight with curiosity, and so, Tailen bolted off determined to discover what other new and exciting experiences awaited him. Any who might've accompanied him north wouldn't find him walking before too long, mesmerized by the sights and smells as he looked for the woman with the overstuffed backpack.

[Freya]

Travels

Glade ???, 124th Year, A.o.S.

Freya stared at the door with a look of contemplation. The cool night air still held a bit of winter's chill, though this close to Tranal it was always quite chill compared to the more southern portions of the Imperium.

"You hesitate?" asked the Owl perched on the carriage behind her, his feathers ruffling as he preened himself not out of need but perhaps novelty.

Freya replied with a shrug, once more pulling a card from the deck in her hands. On it was a depiction of a white leopard with great claws like an eagle clutching a sphere of black and white. It's eyes seemed to glimmer in the starlight from above, urging Freya to act, to move. The witch smiled and held the card up next to the door before releasing it. The card hovered in the air, slowly rotating around its owner by the power of the Aidolon who still seemed busy with his features.

"I am just considering." The deck was reshuffled and another cared drawn. This one depicted a woman in red armor, a wand in hand with flames draping her like a cloak. Freya eyed the card critically before seeming to make a decision.

"Come Asteri," she called, snatching the still floating card from the air before spinning back toward her familiar, "Lets see where the stars take us."

*****

Most doors tended to take you to a place different from where you were at, which was exactly what Freya had expected. She had just not expected to be taken somewhere quite so different as this. As her feet hit warm sand Freya removed her hat and shielded her eyes from the rising light on the horizon. Asteri landed silently on her shoulder, his head swiveling this way and that observing the small gathering of individuals around them. There was little time to acclimate before the gnomish woman made her presence known.

The smell of food was quite alluring, and the festive atmosphere from the direction the gnome had traveled seemed quite appealing, but Freya found her eyes drawn to the signpost and the directions there. Perhaps she should have considered what the rest of the gathered people would do, but with a quick hand she drew a card from the deck and then looked down the path to the East.

"Safe travels friends." Freya said to the group as she plopped her hat back on her head, adjusting the bag on her shoulder which held some of her needed supplies, "May the Star Mother watch over you."

With a small wave she turned and began making her way toward the Palace of Plenty, Asteri taking wing overhead.

[Yeva]

Yeva was squirming from one foot to the other, desperately trying not to rip her boot off and scratch at the healing wound that wrapped around the girth of her large left toe, but soon lost the battle and was barefoot, socks and shoes both haphazardly discarded and leaning against the rickety wagon she had been wrestling with just a few minutes earlier. She recalled the grackle’s warning not to bother the healing tattoo,  especially not to pick or scratch at the impending scabs, but it was honestly maddening. Yeva wiggled the digits in desperation, gritting her teeth to resist the urge to rip her skin off, and was instead bent over, inspecting the jagged artwork.

 Replicating a thin piece of barbed wire, dark and twisted, the sliver of “art” wove between her toes and in gobblish so poorly written and entirely illegible to everyone but the closest fluent inspectors, was the name, “Bobbin…” and other words she could not understand. So sloppy was the handwriting, it was more scratch and shading than language, and only added to the gritty effect, seamless in its integration.

Quite different from a Seer’s etching, she thought, absentmindedly touching the hummingbird imagery and envisioning Norani, looking down at her with a beaming smile. There had been no pain, no prolonged healing process involved then. Just sunshine and warmth, and promises of bonding. Certainly, no whiskey-filled laughter and feral goblins speaking to her in mostly vulgar curses varying in severity in an attempt to communicate with the elf in the few words she actually knew. She sighed then, unaware of the wistful longing that flattened her lungs until something new caught her eye. 

Norani’s image in her mind’s eye faded reluctantly as she realized what she was seeing. At once Yeva stood upright, spinning like a guilty party caught in the act of something dubious.

As if waiting for her attention to inevitably fall upon it, was a door. It stood without any adjacent structure, tall and proud, like a statue or pillar, the knob begging to be turned. Yeva stiffened at once, stepping back and away without realizing it. There was nothing dubious about it, but the sight struck her with such surprise, that she forgot her surroundings entirely, and was only made aware of her intense fear when her hands started to shake and her breathing grew shallow. She took another step back. No. Not again.

She blinked, willing the illusion away but, it waited. In her experience, mysterious doors meant gods. Gods meant trouble… Different dimensions, planar travel, both perhaps. Had she not just narrowly escaped certain destruction in the Astral Sea after walking through one just like this? 

It was better to ignore it, to pretend it didn’t exist, “I won’t do it.” she declared, speaking to no one else, for she was alone on the traveler's path. Her escort, a winged man who had quite literally swept her up in dedication to bring her to an old acquaintance desperately searching for her, had wandered into the nearby woods to scout a place just off the road to set up camp, and she had promised to stay put.

The door did not vanish. 

“Go away,” she muttered, only afterward wondering if its arrival might promise Galetira, or reasoning for the goddess’ disappearance in the Astral Sea. She would even take Vhexur if it meant seeing Norani sooner. The thought of those two aiding her journey back to Ecith twisted her resolve. Yeva missed her dearest friend and would do almost anything to see her again. Trauma made her hesitate.

She waited, expectantly impatient for her temporary travel companion to return, before she could take the uncertainty no longer, and snatched her shoes up. Her feet were pink with cold, the snow had only just melted and the air was brisk in the overdue spring. The black mud sucked at her heels as she hastily wrote into the earth that she would be back soon… maybe, and through her fear, guilt, and growing excitement at the idea of a certain reunion, knocked upon the door.

When she stepped through at last, she was late.

A group had gathered a ways away, addressed by a gnome speaker calling for attention, and in the background, Yeva emerged, her red and wild curls first visible, followed shortly by the heavy fleece of her overcoat and seeking gaze. She was first struck by how hot it suddenly was, how heavy her outerwear now felt, and the blinding sand that was a golden cream color, wavy and broken up only by prismatic lanterns and vibrant tents dotted around a stone path leading towards a crossroad.

The young elf had never seen the desert up close, and she turned to and fro in admiration, tugging off her extra layers without much thought as she did so. Merely a year ago, it might have been unthinkable, but she had clothing underneath she still wore, and she turned for modesty's sake. One by one, Yeva undid laces and ties, her heavy cloak slipping from her shoulders and dropping into a pile, followed next by the bulky fur-lined pants given to her by the ox men in the Hills of Deception. Once finished, she was wearing the same thing she had been back in the warm summers of Ecith, a midriff top, and a white skirt slit up on either side, falling like water down her full hips. Tattoos, colorful and unashamed in their presentation were revealed in various places, but most startling was a simple monochromatic image of an eye just below her diaphram.

Relief from the temperature was immediate, and she was tying up her hair when a raucous clattering began and a gnome covered in pots and pans encouraged a following to those she had been speaking to, hurrying along up the path, closer and closer, and then past her.

“Oh! Excuse-“ Me, she had started, surprised to see several other strangers as well moving about, the atmosphere unlike any of the other doors she had taken in her past. Her voice was lost to the surrounding music and giddy footfalls of the gnome before Yeva blinked and in a search for answers, followed after, "Excuse me," she called, this time to no one in particular as she hoped for a familiar face. The Seer nudging her winter wear into a unbothered pile with her naked foot, which was now covered in loose sand like sprinkles on cake, "Are we....." she as aware of how this might sound to anyone who might not have arrived as she did, but it was too late. She had already started to speak, "Well... Does anyone know if we still stand upon Ransera? Or... where-"

She couldn't just ask if people know what plane they were on. It would have been ridiculous. Yeva noticed the parting in the tents up ahead, where they started to thin, and a crossroads with words too small on the signs to read from her distance.

This certainly wasn't the Astral Sea, with its eerie greys and lack of mortal sensation. This place was filled with... feeling.. Hot, sticky, and sweet smelling, music tittering up and down the path. She inhaled, lifting a hand to shield her eyes as she tilted her head back and peered at the sky - at any clouds - with a serious expression, "Hm," she reflected after a moment, that same seeking gaze, flickering from face to face to the others, who seemed just as lost. Perhaps more so. After all, she was no stranger to mysterious doors, "Nevermind."