[RQ] To that sage and stone beneath the stars

FERN

Jump in the car, get on the road
Travel where nobody knows
No turning back, feet on the dash

When she offered to be helpful, she expected to be doing surgeries, not handed a broom and told to march up a bunch of stairs. The only upside is she's in good company, but that doesn't do anything to remove the actual work. "Why is it soooooooo tall," she grunts, having paused partway up the climb for a breather. Sat on one step, her back pressed against the wall, she glances up at the curving cut of stone with no visible end in sight.

This of course would be a much easier task if she were climbing the stairs on two legs and holding the broom and rag in her hands, but the only truly sensible way to go up is slapping about on her hands and toes, broom pinched between her shoulder and neck like some crooked horse.

---

Can't pay the tab, sneak out the bar
We skip towns like shooting stars
We're on the run, just living life

'cause dirt on you is dirt on me, and we both know our hands ain't clean

Calan is rarely anywhere without Carlo, but his twin is presently home sick in bed, which means there’s only one extra set of hands and feet thundering up the lighthouse stairs behind Fern instead of two. He makes enough noise for both of them anyway, galloping around each curve like an angry buffalo with absolutely no respect for indoor voices, sensible pacing, or the broom bouncing awkwardly against his shoulder.

When Fern stops, Calan very nearly barrels straight into her. He jerks himself short with a startled scuff of his shoes, wobbles dangerously, then drops onto the next stair with all the dignity of someone who’d meant to do exactly that. His chest heaves as he tips his head back, squinting suspiciously towards the unseen top as though the lighthouse has personally arranged this insult. "I bet the gods said it has to be this way," he decides, dragging in another breath before lifting his chin with grave importance, "so that only the very strongest can get to the top."

if it all goes wrong and we end up on the news, if you go down I'm goin' down too

Code 100% taken from the queeeeeeen herself, Sky <3

FERN

Jump in the car, get on the road
Travel where nobody knows
No turning back, feet on the dash

Oblivious to the near-wreck she's almost caused, especially when he plops down with enough grace to be kingly, a small, sharp sound blooms in her throat at his explanation. A gasp of understanding, excitement carving the drawn out expression she hands him over the stone. "Like a test of worthiness!" Now it makes sense, and as her eyes lift back up with newfound awe and appreciation, these don't seem nearly tall enough anymore. "Trials the likes of which few have ever seen, decreed by the divine to be impossible, and so the heroes who rise above it seat themselves properly before heavenly notice."

Renewed vigor grips her with such alarming potency that she pops up so fast the motion almost carries her right off her step, but the broom bristles splay under her weight as she deftly catches herself and stays propped up, no longer a horse but a mage facing down a perilous journey. "We're strong enough," she says defiantly to the corridor of stairs that might yawn with bordeom for the amount of times they've heard such a claim.

"Careful, I bet it's also booty trapped." she slides over to him from the corner of her mouth as she slaps a foot down on the stair above her and begins to ascend in the slow-motion regality that conquering mortal limits deserves.

Can't pay the tab, sneak out the bar
We skip towns like shooting stars
We're on the run, just living life

'cause dirt on you is dirt on me, and we both know our hands ain't clean

Calan nods sagely at first, entirely prepared to confirm her sensible interpretation, but the longer Fern speaks, the farther his mouth falls open. By the time she’s finished this impromptu monologue, he’s staring at her with the same wide-eyed attention he usually reserves for one of Nonna’s stories, caught so completely by the grandeur of it that even the burning in his little thighs seems temporarily beneath notice.

"Of course we are," he declares, springing back to his feet with considerably more conviction than strength. "That’s why we were chosen for this mission." The mention of traps gives him pause, though, his brows drawing together as he considers the unfamiliar phrase. A trap designed to steal their booty is exactly the sort of underhanded obstacle a divine trial would include, and Calan immediately tightens his grip on the broom. Keeping careful watch on Fern’s feet, he turns it upside down and begins poking the next few steps with the handle, prodding around her shoes to make certain no hidden mechanism can snatch away their treasure—or her—before they reach the top.

if it all goes wrong and we end up on the news, if you go down I'm goin' down too

Code 100% taken from the queeeeeeen herself, Sky <3

A sharp flutter of wings announces itself far too close overhead, followed by the scrape of talons and the unmistakable sense that something has landed where it absolutely should not have. A Hel perches nearby, head cocked, eyes bright and calculating as it sizes up the scene.

It hops closer with a series of quick, impatient movements, letting out a short, grating call that sounds suspiciously like a demand, right down to the way it cranes its neck toward packs, baskets, or anything that might reasonably contain food. If ignored, it only grows bolder, wings flicking open as it makes a half-hearted lunge toward anything unattended.

When shooed away, the Hel takes to the air in an indignant spiral, only to settle again moments later a short distance off, clearly unimpressed and entirely unconvinced that the matter is settled. It watches with unwavering focus, occasionally edging closer, testing boundaries with the persistence of a creature that knows it doesn’t need to be threatening to get exactly what it wants.

---

Hels Areas Found: Torchline — Common Hels look vaguely like a species of seagull, but are quite friendly. Should one sit on your shoulder, you will find yourself suddenly able to walk on water! Be careful though, these birds are easily bored. Should they abandon you during an ocean-stroll, you will find yourself sinking into the water potentially hundreds of feet from the shore! Challenge Rating: Easy HP: 38 | To Hit: +26 | Dmg: 9 Movement: Fly 60 ft.; Walk 10 ft. SPECIAL SKILLS Waterwalk Bond: While perched, grants the bearer the ability to walk on water; Boredom Curse: If the hel leaves its perch during waterwalking, the bearer immediately loses buoyancy and begins to sink

TRAITS Friendly Companion: Inclined to approach and perch on willing shoulders; Light as a Feather: Nearly weightless, they do not hinder movement or balance; Ocean’s Familiarity: Innate understanding of currents, tides, and sea weather ACTIONS Peck: A quick tap with its beak, used more in play than aggression

FERN

Jump in the car, get on the road
Travel where nobody knows
No turning back, feet on the dash

The next several bits of stairway are taken with all the concentration of the builders who originally laid them. Each poke and prod of their boom comes with a careful tilt of her head, listening out for the mechanisms of their demise, or crouching down to peer more closely at anything that seems out of place. "This is a very well-designed trial." The solemn judgement is whispered over to him as she finishes running a finger over the edge of one stair. The collected debris she rubs between her forefinger and thumb, holding it up for a sniff before she wipes it off on the side of her shorts. "The traps are almost undetectable." Volume alone seems at risk of setting them off with the way her voice stays low, slinking along like a cat on the prowl.

Just then, out of sight with a twist of stone, a ruckus rises. Fern at once straightens up, hair prickling up her scalp, and broom lifting over her head in some grand display of extra height. "What is that!?" She wonders, and the softer, insistent sound of its approach rises."I think we triggered one of the monster traps," she wails, unaware that it's just Bird crash-landing and on the hunt for any food-related offerings or trails of crumbs.

Can't pay the tab, sneak out the bar
We skip towns like shooting stars
We're on the run, just living life

'cause dirt on you is dirt on me, and we both know our hands ain't clean

Calan answers her solemn assessment with a grim nod, tightening both hands around the broom as he studies the steps they’ve already crossed. The absence of snapping jaws, swinging blades, or sudden holes opening beneath them doesn’t reassure him nearly as much as it should. In fact, the longer he considers it, the more suspicious it becomes. "I bet the traps only trap some of the time, too," he whispers, leaning closer so the builders of the lighthouse—or the gods listening through the walls—won’t overhear him solving their trick. "So you go over one and nothing happens, and then you think it’s safe." His gaze slides slowly back down the staircase, retracing every place they’ve put their hands and feet. "Then it gets you when you come back."

That would explain why their extensive testing hasn’t revealed anything. The trial isn’t poorly trapped; it’s patient. Calan’s expression darkens with admiration for whoever devised it, and he gives the nearest step another firm poke for good measure before easing one foot onto it. He keeps his weight poised over the lower stair, ready to fling himself backward should the stone so much as twitch, though the burning in his thighs makes the pose rather less heroic than he imagines.

The sudden commotion from around the curve sends him upright beside Fern, broom whipping around in both hands as he peers toward the sound. For one taut moment his shoulders climb nearly to his ears while he listens to the scrape, flutter, and increasingly irritated calls echoing through the stairwell. Then recognition settles across his face, and all that alarm drains out of him at once. "I bet that’s just Bird checking for traps outside," Calan says, lowering the broom from its defensive position. Another demanding cry follows, and he nods as though this confirms everything. "He probably found one."

if it all goes wrong and we end up on the news, if you go down I'm goin' down too

Code 100% taken from the queeeeeeen herself, Sky <3