Elijah and his companions parted way with the Sunchaser earlier today, and they've had a bit of a walk to get away from the "resort" area – too pricey and full of nobility and would-be-nobility to be worth visiting for very long – and toward the nearby town of Seafoam.

There was a bit of excitement a while back, when the mage Envoy had gone into some sort of a comatose state … but there were other mages of the College Esoterica on the ship, and they put a bit of a hush on the whole thing, and disappeared at some point – presumably rendezvousing with another airship at some point off the coast. The mages have been terribly secretive about their business and about the location of their new base – Caroban – what with all the trouble they've gotten in the past few years.

Now, though, it's far more calm, and a pleasant walk along the shoreline, the air filled with the spray of waves hitting the rocky shore, the cries of seacreens and gulls, the occasional buzz of oversized insects, and the distant activities of the seafaring Gigis in their fishing boats and on their surfboards. Ahead, the town of Seafoam can be seen – nothing more than a cluster of transient shacks and shelters in the shadow of the bluffs.

Elijah ruffles his wings a bit to keep cool in the heat. "I miss the seasons, but I could do without the summer, I think." He glances over his shoulder; on one side is "Inri", and on the other is "Watches-Quietly". He's driven himself between them like a wedge … or a protective wall of sorts. "Are you managing all right?"

Watches-Quietly nods, looks around, and speaks softly, "I'm fine, thank you. It's good to be on ground that doesn't bob and sway." She grins, then pantomimes bobbing and swaying as if on the deck of an airship hitting turbulence.

Inri nods agreement, though she doesn't add anything aloud, idly scanning the horizon, where the Stygian Sea blends into the sky. She doesn't evidence any surprise at the fact that the Savanite "porter" has just spoken.

The Vartan laughs and scratches at his eyepatch. "Do you think the locals would mind us trying to surf a bit? It looks like an interesting sport." He looks down at himself. "Although I wonder if they have a board big enough for me to manage on."

The town is at a lower elevation, where the rocky bluffs clear away – It rests up against the bluffs, at the edge of a wide and sandy shelf that stretches out toward the waters, with a shallow bay cutting into its center, where only a couple of the ships are actually aground – the rest of them out on the water. Watches-Quietly grins widely. "I'd love to!" She then sobers. "Though … I imagine it might spoil my disguise if I squeal or such. And I've never done this before, so you know I'm going to get tossed!"

Elijah shrugs. "Is there anyone you're trying to disguise yourself from?" He glances at Inri, whom Watches-Quietly doesn't seem to mind talking about her bit of fur dye around, not that the act could have been kept up for very long after they left the ship.

Watches-Quietly looks to Elijah. "Well … you're in disguise, so … " She glances momentarily in Inri's direction, but Inri is still looking off in the distance.

Inri, however, turns away from the horizon, catching Elijah's glance. She speaks aloud this time. "I surmised the identity of our 'porter'. I thought it best to make it clear, rather than pretending not to notice."

"Only fair, I suppose." Elijah stretches, flapping his wings hard enough to stir up a momentary breeze. "And I appreciate your honesty, Inri." He sighs. "I am glad to have the both of you with me, but it seems that my part in this journey will be the easiest one. I only wish to watch and listen and learn. I do not envy the decisions and assumptions and conflicts going through your minds right now. I only wish I could offer some better help than what seems available to me."

Watches-Quietly kicks at a pebble, sending it scuttling down the path. "I'm not meaning to make any sort of conflict here. I … I'm just … " She looks over to Inri, her eyes wavering. "I'm just trying to figure it all out. But … I'm glad to be with you. Both of you." She smiles earnestly, though her eyes still look the same.

Inri smiles lightly, bowing her head back to Watches-Quietly, then looking down the path. "As am I to be with you. I am only still troubled by the issue of who 'I' am. I have been given many answers … but I still feel questions I cannot put words to."

Meanwhile, the group has gotten close enough to the town that they can make out a threesome of golden felines riding a large wave in toward the sandy beach … and one of them wipes out spectacularly … while the others slide off, one after the other, a bit further in toward the shore. When the wave passes, they can be seen bobbing in the water, catching up with their boards. Another golden feline crouches down on a small boat dwarfed by a single sail, hanging off the side, as he guides it in toward the little sandy bay, and then deposits a small lumpy bag on the beach when he comes to a halt, shoving his small craft onto the relatively dry land.

Elijah puts a hand on Watches-Quietly's shoulder and hugs her against his side, then does likewise with Inri, looking for all the world like a bawdy old Vartan trying to act chummy with a couple of total strangers. "An old soldier's opinion … you will never know entirely who you are or what your place is in life until you're finished living it. Just don't get so preoccupied looking inward that you don't look out for your answers as well. I have discovered more of myself in other people – largely the two of you – than anyone else. Perhaps there is a reason why the Star guided the three of us on this path instead of individually. Now try to be happy. The air smells beautifully, the Creens are singing to us, and the weather is nice. Let's just hope the locals are as well."

Watches-Quietly giggles. "Gigis are always friendly! It says so in the brochures!" She winks.

The brown Vartan looks a tad dubious and releases his two captive felines. He holds up a finger in a "wait a moment" gesture and jogs over to help the fisherman with his boat. "Hello there, do you speak Standard? We're looking for a place to stay for a day or so until we can catch the next airship."

As the Vartan approaches the fisherman, he turns, his wettail bottle-brushing slightly. At once, the Vartan is able to notice something distinctly different about this Gigi – He has the same build, the same golden fur, the same blonde hair … but he has faint patches in his fur that suggest spots, and perhaps when his fur dries, they might be even more pronounced. "Wahey! I'm not cementin', just … oh. Marvyday, eh? This's Seafoam, a snappy little town, a droovin' place to stay, I'm told."

Elijah smirks and helps give the boat a shove onto the shore. "My name is Elijah, and I'm wanting to find passage to Shabar from here, or at least to some place that can get me to Shabar." He gestures over his shoulder with his beak. "This is Inri and Watches-Quietly, my companions."

Watches-Quietly softly catches up with the Vartan and the Gigi as they pull the small ship further away from the water, and at the mention of her name, she bows subserviently. Inri comes to a stop next to Watches-Quietly, and mimics her bow.

Elijah takes a moment to examine the small bag the Gigi set down. He keeps his hands off of it, though … just in case it's something he's protective of.

The Gigi smiles. "Oh! My tag is Bhuz. And many smarvs for helping me drag my skip. Blueford is where you'd be getting your sky-time, and you can pad up by river, take the wicked road, or take a chance and deflate here for a while in case a tour-boat comes this way in a few days or so." He stoops down to pick up the bag, which is apparently full of oysters.

The Vartan shrugs at the two Savanites. "I'm not in any hurry. Shall we wait for the tour boat?"

Watches-Quietly shrugs. Inri signs, "Fine by me, if they welcome guests."

Bhuz blinks at the short display of finger-wiggling, and looks between Watches-Quietly and Inri, then back again. "Ah … foozle on my head if it's not gnobbly for me to ask this … but are you two … er … Savanites?"

"Either way, a bit of a rest would be nice. I'd like to enjoy the feeling of solid ground under my hooves before I hop on another boat." Elijah shifts his weight a bit and looks to his two companions, figuring that they might be best to answer that question themselves.

Watches-Quietly just grins impishly and shrugs.

Bhuz says, "Oh … uhm … well … never mind that, nef? Grully, you should pop by the priestess' padola. She's hey-big on guests 'n all. I'd offer you a crash, but I've no mat of my own. I'm a rumbalong type … uhm … I'm not chilly here." He gestures offhandedly toward the other Gigis along the beach … all of whom seem to be keeping a bit of distance from Bhuz, now that it's pointed out.

Elijah sidesteps nonchalantly, putting himself between Bhuz and Watches-Quietly. "Why is that? Did you break any laws here?"

Bhuz slumps a bit, then says, in a quieter tone, "No, no … just almost might have maybe could have, given a break or two." He reaches up with a splotched, golden-furred arm, running it through his dirty-blonde hair. "Nothing big-gonzo-bad, just enough to nurf the locals. I'm not supposed to giff with the hoolahs. Not that giffin' would cause no trouble, but giffin' leads to snorkin', then snorkin' leads to … well … you know … " He rolls his eyes, then says, "Next thing, you're paddin' down and choosin' curtains and havin' little Gigis. And they wouldn't narf to me doing that."

Watches-Quietly just … watches quietly, blinking in confusion at all the jargon.

"They don't want you picking a wife among their villagers? Any particular reason why?" The Vartan glances out at the boaters deeper in the water.

The boaters are casting nets for fish, and it looks like they've already got a bit of a catch for the day. However, the Vartan can easily pick out that some of the Gigis are looking in this direction every now and then.

Bhuz nods. "Sharfly right! Or any other villages. Uhm … " He holds out his arm, which is slowly drying, and the spots are showing up more clearly. "Account of this smudgefluff. Gigis're shimgold lightfur, y'know? So was I, until I started hitting my beef-up age. Then my fluff went all morply. An' if I had little Gigis, they'd be all morply, too. So I can cast for shells and grub, but no cementin' here."

Elijah sputters. "Because you have spots? Things like that happen all the time on the surface – rather preposterous." He frowns and looks out to the village again. "Would my companions suffer any ill treatment if we stayed here for a day or so? I do not wish to bother in a place where we would not be welcome."

Bhuz frowns. "No, no, they're … ah … Savanites, right? That's totaldiff. But I'm castback. Guesties are waychilly here. Just not castback Gigis. I don't mean to smudge your bluesky. They're plenty trifty, honest."

Elijah kneels down and studies the Gigi's boat. "You wouldn't happen to know a route to take us on the way to Shabar that you could boat your way down, would you? I'd be willing to hire you."

Bhuz grins. "You're not buskuffling me, eh? Marplin', you bet! But it'd be up, not down. We're near the delta. The Saskanar pludunks all the way down here … and Shabar schlorps right off at the border." The craft is a fairly humble-looking arrangement, really little more than a canoe with a couple of extensions and pontoons off on each side. It would be able to seat no more than four, to be certain, and with gear, that'd be a "cozy" ride.

Bhuz frowns momentarily. "But the horribs are grobbling all over this time of year. They can really horkle your day."

Elijah rubs his beak, eyeing the canoe. "Perhaps the three of you could ride with our gear and I would fly along and keep an eye out for horribs. Do you have an extra craft or a larger one?"

Bhuz shakes his head. "This is my only skip. This plus the drapes on my back and this grab o' oysters is all I have, pally-meizha!"

Inri nods. "I think we can make do," she signs. "The river is gentle, and the Ashdod Territories are lush and fruitful. It should not be hard to live off the land, but the wildlife can be disagreeable if we are not careful."

Elijah sits down and puts a hand on the canoe, studying it. He nods to Inri, "I hope you've not forgotten how to make those herbal bags that keep the bugs away? I wonder if I could buy a smaller craft in the village and try my hand at going alongside you. Of course I could also always just fly to help make extra room." He flaps his wings a little bit.

Inri smiles. "I've not forgotten how to mix herbs. I mostly know plants of Ai, but I have studied Ur as well, during my time in Rephidim."

Bhuz nods. "You could grop a skip in Seafoam, most dubitlessly! Just I'd best not be in gog-range, since I'm bad moojoo, and they might up the clams."

The Vartan fishes out his money pouch and pulls out a copper which he offers to the Gigi. "Here. Get your boat repaired and buy any supplies you might need; keep the rest to get yourself a decent meal. I believe that we've just found our guide."

The Gigi boggles at the copper piece, and licks it to be certain. "Fragtagulous! Blueskies and masswaves, pally-meizha! I'll get kickin'!"

"We'll talk later in the morning. For now, I think we'll see about getting that room and then I'd like to try my hand at surfing." Elijah stands up and brushes sand off of his clothing. "Ask for someone called 'priestess' you said?"

Bhuz nods, and points over to one of the larger huts, which is framed by some especially large tusk-like poles and decorated with pieces of shells woven into the fabric of the tent. "She's pretty trilly. I'll get to buffin' on the skip!" With that, he checks his coin again, and walks over in the direction of the village … holding up the coin as if it were a badge granting him admittance.

"Think he'd make a fair employee at the Shoppe?" the Vartan whispers to Watches-Quietly as he follows a good distance behind the Gigi towards the Tent. "He reminds me a little of Red, just broken in a different way."

Watches-Quietly stifles a giggle, then signs, "He seems nice enough … but who would understand him?"

Elijah folds his hands behind his back. "I bet your brother could, and then annoy you to pieces by talking just like him."

Inri smiles faintly, then sobers as they approach the priestess' tent. It bears no sigils or emblems or obvious signs to identify just what religion the priestess might be aligned to. However, the front tent flaps are open, and a golden-furred female Gigi can be seen reclining on a mat at the entrance. At the arrival of the visitors, she rises to her feet with a tinkle of stringed beads raining against each other as she straightens out. She smiles and bows.

Watches-Quietly mock-winces at the notion of her little brother speaking in jabberwockyisms, then straightens up as the priestess reacts to the approach of the visitors.

The Vartan returns the bow. "Hello there. I was told that you could provide us with a place to stay here for a few days? My name is Elijah; this is Inri and Watches-Quietly."

The priestess smiles and spreads her arms wide in an expansive gesture. "I am Dinala, priestess of Nala, the mother-goddess. Nala welcomes all of her children, and I, as her representative, would gladly welcome you and grant you shelter during your visit. Welcome Elijah, welcome Inri, and welcome Watches-Quietly." Her eyes twinkle a little, as she smiles down at the youngest, but then she looks back at Elijah, quite obviously the speaker for this group. "The villagers will be glad to welcome you as well, and we would be honored to have you as guests at our nightly dance and dining." She speaks in a very refined tongue, one that sounds faintly Ashdodite, but not quite – perhaps influenced by one of the other languages of this continent. Most noticeable, however, is the lack of jabberwockyisms in her speech.

Elijah crooks an eyebrow up slightly. "How much will we owe you for our stay?" He swallows and pulls out his pouch again. "I have never heard of Nala."

The priestess chuckles lightly. "You will owe us nothing, so long as you are only here for a few days at most. After that, I might start asking you to help with the cleaning." She winks. "It is in the interest of Nala to welcome her children, and these villagers wish to welcome the outsiders, since a good deal of their livelihood depends on the generosity of the sky-riders, though less than those at Surf."

She then continues, "Nala is the Goddess, the beginning and end of all life. She is the one who keeps the cycle of life turning, granting new life to those born into the world, and gently guiding us back out of it again, then on to our next place in the cycle, so that it might continue turning indefinitely."

"I hope I do not offend you by asking this, but are you native to here? You speak much differently than most of the Gigi I have met with during the trip here." The Vartan slips his pouch back onto his belt.

Dinala's eyes crinkle slightly as she smiles, gently dipping her head and covering her muzzle with one hand for a moment. "Yes, I have taken studies. I worked for a time as a hostess in Surf, before I returned to my native village to take my mother's place as village priestess."

Elijah nods. "We met a fellow outside the village named Bhuz, who guided us here. If I may ask, had he committed any crime here? He did not quite say as much, but from what I gathered he was something of an outcast."

Dinala's expression saddens, and she nods quietly. "No, he has not committed any crime. But, you see, as I briefly mentioned before, life comes and goes in cycles. A spirit does not often cease to exist, but instead it goes into the cycle once more, and after death, is born again. So it is with those of a good nature … and those of ill nature as well. Our history is not written down, for it dates back much further than the age in which we adopted the language of the sky-people, and made it our own … but we come from dark beginnings. While the cycle of life cannot be halted, and history is doomed to repeat itself, we can still delay the darkness, and hold it off for as long as we may. Therefore, we carefully guard against the omens, although it forces us to make lamentable decisions to do so."

Elijah tilts his head quizzically. "Are you saying that he is a bad omen, or is being punished for some evil in a previous life?"

Dinala lowers her eyes, smiling in a look of embarrassment. "The simplest response would be to answer 'yes' to both of those suppositions. It is more complicated than that, for while our life force goes on to the next cycle of life, we do not pass to the next life as a continuous string, merely forgetting our past lives and gaining a new one. He is guilty of nothing, and we do not mean to punish him. It is simply necessary to make certain that he does not… " She sighs, then looks to Elijah's companions.

"My apologies, and please do not take offense at this. This is not something we speak freely of with outsiders, but dear Bhuz is a rarity – and we try to keep it that way. You see, our people were not always as you see us now," the priestess says.

"I am a religious man myself, although I am the follower of the Star. But at the same time understanding the beliefs of others allows me to understand my own all the more." He smiles a little. "How were you before?"

Dinala bows. "We believe that Nala is known by many names." She takes a breath, then says, "Again, please do not take offense at this, but in the olden times, our people were spotted. This is not to say that the presence of spots on anyone should mean any sort of moral impurity … but for our bloodline, it is a mark of a repressed evil, coming to the surface once more."

Watches-Quietly's ears blanch. Inri furrows a brow at this, and shuffles her arms slightly underneath her drapery.

Elijah barely hides a frown. "And what occurred after this? How did you change?"

Dinala smiles faintly. "We have many legends detailing the epic of how we escaped Amena's grasp, and moved into the Promised Land. But the most plain explanation would be that it was a mixture of magic, and then generations of strict breeding, so that the old nature would not resurface."

Elijah looks around the hut. "I would be very intrigued to hear of such a tale, Priestess Dinala. I think we may even share a common enemy. Do you think we could hear the tale during dinner tonight?"

Dinala smiles. "Certainly. It may be a tale of shame, but also of heroism. It is not a tale often told with guests present, but no less worth the telling."

"I look forward to hearing it, more than you know. But until then, where will we be staying? I think I would like a moment to rest my feet. It was a bit of a walk getting here and I have gotten far too used to flying," the brown Vartan says.

Dinala gestures inside the large tent. "You are welcome to stay here, for my tent has many partitions. Do not be worried to think that you are staying in a temple – All the world outside is Nala's temple. This is only the dwelling for her servant. I do hope that you like fish?"

Elijah grins. "I adore it. Fresh fish is a little hard to come by in Rephidim, as there are not many large bodies of water." He gathers up his bag and slings it over his shoulder.

A bit of settling in later, and Elijah and his companions have been assigned partitions within the large tent, with bedrolls and a covered floor for the night, rather than having to sleep on the grit and sand. The heavy curtains separating the interior into "rooms" have been adjusted to give Elijah an accordingly larger area than the others, out of necessity. The curtains themselves are embroidered with colorful designs depicting serpentine creatures tossing about in the surf, and twirling sea-creens and flapping gulls dancing about in the sky above. In the waves, in the earth, in the sun, and in the clouds, there are symbolic faces of the smiling Nala, present in all things.

Watches-Quietly helps smooth out Elijah's bedroll, and pats on the curtains. Weights hung at the bottom keep them from swaying too easily. She nods, satisfied.

Elijah sets his bags down and checks to make sure the room is private enough, then he kneels down and hugs Watches-Quietly, preening her hair in that annoying fatherly way that he has. "Shinyfur, whatever you hear tonight … remember that it's not what your fur looks like that makes you good or evil. I think we are about to be enlightened over an issue that we'd like to hide from, but it is not spots that makes someone evil. It's the soul… you can see as much from Bhuz. I hope you understand and keep it in mind during dinner?"

Watches-Quietly nods. She wrinkles her nose a little at the preening, but smirks with a resigned sigh, then signs, "I understand that. Some faiths just can't separate the physical from the spiritual. I won't get it mixed up, though. You know me."

The Vartan kisses the young feline's head and lets her go. "Testament-Blaze taught you good and proper. I'm just an overprotective old bird is all." He eases himself down on the bedroll. "Wake me up when they're about to serve dinner, would you?"

Watches-Quietly lurches forward and gives the Vartan a tight hug, nodding emphatically, and then slips off to an overlap of the curtains. "You can count on me!" she signs.

Elijah folds his arms under his chin as he watches his daughter leave. He sighs softly to himself and closes his eyes. Oh Star… why do they have to grow up so fast?