Xib left. -Exit from the rp.-

Xib watched the rat as he plucked and cut an onion. He listened to his speech as he struggled to make an excuse. His brain hurt trying to understand his saying. Idioms may have been popular where Jasper came from, but they rang hollow here. "Why no share cinnamon?" He answered, solving the problem with little effort. He didn't quite understand why the spice had to be given to just one when it could easily be divided with enough flavor for both. The turzien's head hurt. Big throbbing in that nogging caused the reptile to wiggle his neck. Those flaps clapped together as he let out a loud yawn. Xib's snappers crashed close as he blinked one eye after another. He was confused, unable to see the issue. The rodent was a big dumdum or a hollow shell in his mind. "This one no get. Swamp and woman of rear shell be same. Xib follow swamp, Xib follow flo. You calling xib traitor? Softback thinks this one no serve? Bah!" The turtle still refused to move. He wasn't pleased with Jasper, not one bit. To Xib, the alchemist made no sense. "This one, get it. Sand chimp, no thunk. Florentina own swamp, why would she not serve it? Why she no em...embody it? Yes, that be word, big word." He added smugly, confident his advanced vocabulary would astound the simpleton. "Rat broke word to Xib. Says one thing, does another. Sneaky sneaky sand chimp. No trust, no help. Find noodle one on own. This one sworn to big oath. Helping you violates word. Xib no liar. Flora understand. This one fulfill by helping in what way he can. Tentacle lady be somwhere in bog, near water. See, this one helped as ordered. Xib eliminates most of jungle and land. Go north, use eyes and big nogging. This one done..." He turned and farted in Jaspers's general direction before waddling away.

The saurian said nothing as the witch doctor went through his performative charade. Xib wasn't one for the arts. He found it to be a waste of time, especially when there were onions to plant. The turtle picked his nose, digging deep for that clump of gold. His stubby fingers yanked out a bounty as he flicked it into the bog. It wouldn't be long before he roved his eyes back to the rodent. Jasper was done with the theatrics, which gave him time to speak. "Two masters?" He gurgled. That same finger employed from before scratched his chinny chin chin. "This one baboonzled by what rat man means." He muttered while that nogging throbbed as Xib's two impressive brain cells fired to life. It was then that a brilliant flash filled his vacant cranium. The hamster on the wheel was set on fire as it all made sense. Jasper was dumb. He didn't understand either Xib's or the bog's words. The alchemists seemed intent on holding the waddler to his word. However, Xib was confused about why he should continue to honor the agreement. Jasper had been caught lying. When they met, Xib asked why he wanted such knowledge and what he would do. If he was loyal to the swamp and sought the information to aid it or fuel his grabby wants like most sand chimps. Xib had seen through the mask. He understood what manner of rat this one was. On guard, the stalwart reptile clenched his girthy log. That phallic lumber held close to his shell as he clicked his snappers in protest. "Me no help. This one sees you as selfish or dense like rock. Either way, Xib no betray bog for stranger. Sap or no sap, you give good reason or this one leaves." It was clear the reptile wasn't happy. Xib didn't like tricksters or manipulators. And in his eyes, Jasper was both. "You said you no serve swamp. You said you serve Flora. The wise woman of the rear shell is mortetor. She is swamp incarnate. Not enemies but allies. Cinnamon's as your kind might say. Same thing, different word, no?" He bellowed, now feeling hungry.

Jasper's answer was far from unforeseen. The alchemist had rejected the entity's kind offer. The writhing mass of vines and roots presented no emotion. It would accept the creature's wishes as its effigy untangled and retreated into the bog. The once eerie atmosphere dissipated as the colors returned to the world. A mighty eastern wind carried away the haze as a feeling of normality greeted Jasper. Was that all a dream? Some drug-induced hallucination brought on by the truffle? Or had Jasper reached out and touched something that defied rationality? The croaking of the frogs punctured through the silence as now the song of the fen returned. Xib, however, was nowhere to be found. The rat seemed alone and isolated within a hostile yet alien biodome. It wasn't long before the sound of disturbed water reached the rodent's ear that the turtle emerged from its depths. Xibs head poked from the muddy pools as his eyes examined every which way. His pupils still dilated as he pushed out a series of bubbles. His shelled body rose from the water as it tricked down his bulbous and rough exterior. His snappers clicked together as he leaned on his log for support. He remained silent while his eyes inspected the scene. Once confident they were in the world of the real, the shelled one would speak. "How was it? Flatback wandered off into mire alone. Xib paddled close, keeping witch doctor safe. This one glad you no dead. It means swamp no reject rat." He added with a nod and the blowing of water and snot from his nostril. "How did it go? What did your eyes see? What did your ears hear? Tell Xib, this one most curious." The turtle gurgled as he waited for a response. As he stood there his mind wandered. Many big thunks were brewing as he considered where to take the brewer. "Xib know what Xib know. But Xib knows it not enough. This one knows one who knows much more. Noodly lady, lives in mushroom covered in shell of crab. She make elexors. Powerful drinks. Odd, but nice." He muttered unaware his thoughts weren't in his head. "Yes, that's what Xib should say..."

The writhing roots caused the fenland to tremble. That mass of tangled thorned and flowers maintained its form as it listened to Jasper. The turzien's words had yet to receive an immediate response. The swamp's consciousness wanted to hear the alchemist speak for himself. Xib could feel its eyes studying them. The haze around them was its pollen, and everything caught within its fog was visible to the guardian. Xib turned to face the rodent, clicking his snappers to relax the mammal—something common among his kind but absent within the warmbloods. The distant swaying of flora came to a halt. A growl resonated out and was accompanied by the bubbling of the murky water. The entity gave the alchemist the floor. Every word Jasper uttered was being evaluated by its inconceivable mind. Somehow, despite his honesty, the will before them emerged as unmoved. It was almost as if the dragon of the fen was already aware of such details. If true, did that imply the being was testing Jasper? The brewer of tonics wouldn't need to wait long to receive a response. But not before the budding flowers across the effigy began to bloom. "You seek knowledge of me. The swamp and I are the same: two names, a single rose." It gurgled, its voice hoarse as the ambiance shifted. The air of uncertainty dissipated with the fog as those distant whips of vines retreated into the brush from whence they originated. "Stranger, a word that means nothing. None are outcasts once they ingest my truffles. The turzien and toadlin are my children. Creatures conceived from my womb while I was under the yoke of a cruel master. Together, we broke free and made our mark on this sphere. The swamp is a pact, a union between worlds. How befitting is it that one cast adrift like yourself was drawn to my grove?" The dragon chuckled, only to release a gust of wind from those nostrils. "Florentina, the one who roused me from torpor. A woman not of my roots yet united my children. She is a peculiar child of this cycle. Tainted by the master I once served. Yet somehow subdued its vile energy. She is an ally of the swamp, my protector. However, there is one who inhabits my waters that is more alien than all combined. I sense it, like a ghost always on the cusp o my peripherals. However, once I go to turn, it vanishes as if shielded from my sights. Do you wish to understand me? How far would you go to slake that thirst for knowledge? You've taken the first two steps. You ingested my gift and walked within my grove. I can impart my blessings. You need only accept communion. Become one with us and throw away the world you once knew. Do this, and I will implant my seed. All knowledge regarding my flora will be made known. Your hands can serve as my prophet via the producing elixirs that will heal the broken world and silence our enemies. My roots run deep and wide. Even this expansive wetland isn't enough to contain me. I understand if you're cautious, you should be. Fear is a terrible yet great thing. It can save one's life or spark their doom." Xib blinked before sniffling his fingers to pass the time. His head perked up as he heard the mention of one that escaped the will of the mire. "Who be this one that troubles you so?" The turtle inquired. The spirit of the swamp said nothing at first before the rustling of its willow branches broke the silence. "It bears the mark and taint of my former master. One's you call the defiled. However, it isn't like them. It moves about but never spreads its pollution. It's something new, yet something troubling. When I know more, I'll speak through my roots. For now, I wait and study it. Unsure if it is friend or foe." Xib nodded, still confused by the master of roots words. The turtle turned and faced the witch doctor sniffing loudly to clear his nostrils. "Not bad for a flatback. Most go crazy or die. Rat man did neither." A detail Xib may have accidentally left out before offering that shroom.

Xib watched the little rat as he succumbed to the effects of the truffle. Jasper was tiny and cursed with warm blood. It made sense the flatback wouldn't have the tolerance of his kind. The turzien held a resilience to the shrooms and their effects. They regularly ingested it and walked this path. Xib was calm, as if in his element. That booming voice and twisting vines produced no outward effect. Everyone's first exposure to the will of the bog varied. So the witch doctors rambling were of no concern. And it seemed Jasper held enough control to speak clearly and ask questions. Xib laughed, clicking his snapper as he shuffled his legs through the fetid waters of his homeland. The ground under his stubby feet pulsated, its rhythm resembling a heartbeat. A sensation that brought comfort and not fear to the turtle. "Testing, cleansing? Softback is the one being exposed to such things. Xib guide, promises nothing other than truth. Rat came for turzien knowledge, Jasberry leave with it." The reptile paused his speech, that log dragging against the mod as it left a visible streak under the water. The ripples of their stride raced ahead as the sepia light glow strengthened across the wetland. "Many words, many names. This one knows it by inzitkilmeth. Friend of turzien, guide of wise women. This one knows only it be old and watchful. No more, no less." Xib's voice gurgled while they trekked together. Japser's eye seemed glued to his mossy shell. Could it be the warmblood recognized the superiority and beauty of this one's back? Or was the alchemist looking to him for sull support? The booming voice resonated louder. It's shrill haunting as the haze that loomed over the murky surface of the bog vanished. Barbed vines, like tendrils, shot from the mud around them. These feelers frantically whipped around as the brush surrounding them creaked and rustled. The willows and plant life of the mire fused into an effigy. A face that resembled a dragon emerged as the sockets where the eyes remained empty. Xib paused, scratching the side of his nogging with that stubby digit. Odd, typically, it formed once closer to the center of the fen. If Jasper paid close attention, he'd see that the turtle wasn't afraid. However, his puzzlement was visible while he swayed in place. Xib dropped to his knee, lowering his stretched-out head and letting out a watery growl. The mass of plants remained inert. The two may feel like they are being watched despite the tangled assembly having no eyes. "One marked by the profane dares to traverse my hallow land? You reek of crossing the divide. Your presence is an affront to the order, unnatural. Yet, you show reverence by ingesting my spores. Odd that so many sojourners mark this cycle. However, your stench is far from the most abnormal." It paused as roots ripped from the moist earth and snaked under the water toward the towering face. "I've tracked your imprints since your incursion into my grove. The trees and lilies whisper. Your voice was carried by the wind and into my roots. Such colorless language. Crude and unspeakably plain. And yet I must indulge in its inferiority to commune. Such a grand and intoxicating exhibition of humility." It growled while the totality of the swamp's vegetation swayed under its song. "A corpse of any origin smells the same. A garden tainted by the soil of another world...Speak, and accept the seeds of enlightenment I'll sow within that barren mind." It was evident this primordial entity wasn't fond of their language. It spoke with frustration. Xib rose, using his log for support as he gurgled and snapped his beak. "This one vouch for outsider. Witch doctor seeks knowledge of bog and its plants. It pursues blessing to use. This one will let rat explain." The puppet appeared unamused by Xib's words. However, its anger did wane.

The turtle waddled close, ignoring the witch doctor's chuckles. The colors of the swamp shifted, the vibrant hue replaced with a pallid world. Jasper was about to commune. He would become one with the fen. Xib would be here as his lodestar. A guide ensuring the rodent's first journey wouldn't end horribly. The reptile would partake of what remained, snatching it from the alchemist's hands as he gulped it down. The earth underneath them began to thump, its rhythm imitating a heartbeat. Xib seemed unconcerned, but it was unclear if they both beheld the same vision. The truffle Jasper had eaten was different; it didn't originate from this world. And soon, the fast blabber would realize the truth. A secret safeguarded by the turzien and their allies. If Jasper was to be of any help to the red sap, he needed to know where the ichor their name was derived from originated. All around them, thorns sprouted, and along these twisted barbs, flowers of a vivid array bloomed. Spores, like rain, descended from the heavens as Xib clicked his snappers. "Become one, commune with swamp one must." The shelled one explained, even if the literal interpretation of those words escaped Jasper's grasp. Calmly, Xib waddled forward, the plants retracting as if the bog welcomed them. "Mortetor. This one knows the word means nothing to sand chimp. But rat will come to know shelled ways. We move now, deeper. Follow this one close. No guarantee the great turzien will approve." Xib added as he stepped through the mud that had given his kind life. A growl, like thunder, resonated around them. Its source was impossible to pinpoint, but the stream of fireflies overhead simulating an aurora borealis wasn't so easily overlooked. Xib stopped, looking overhead as an unearthly fog now blanketed the murky surface of his home. "Not dead? Good sign. Don't be afraid, Xib give word no death. And if hurt, use redundant nervous system." The turtle laughed, aware that mammals weren't so blessed and lacked such a great evolutionary feature. Xib continued moving ahead, the thorns slithering like a snake. The sound of other footsteps racing across the water could be heard somewhere within the eerie film. "Xib speak truth. Bog alive, big secret. No tell, or it kill. Not wise to betray..." He forewarned.

The tiny mammal seemed skittish. Xib was proud that the might of bog and log still struck fear in the hearts of the sand chimps. He wondered if they told stories of the day when the turzien thwacked their forces into red paste. The very thought of reliving those days caused the shelled one to chuckle. His attention would return to the flat back as he spoke a name. Jasper, it didn't sound like a word the smooth brains of the south would say. Then again, Xib put little thought into their inferior culture. Jasper got comfortable, resting his bum bum on the mossy carcass of a tree. Xib often flipped over such things to find shrooms, and sometimes he would discover a stick. A stick, to Xib, was the baby of a log. He often planted them, thinking they'd one day become big and strong like the willows. But alas, it never came to be, making this big thunker consider if he was doing something wrong. Not wanting to dream while awake, the turtle tried to keep his attention on the rodent. Curiously he'd tilt his head, each eye blinking independently in an awkward pattern. His stubby free hand scratched away at the flap on his neck as he pondered. "Forgiven. Softback comes to this one. Claims to be shaman, yet why should turzien share nuggets of knowledge?" Xib's stomach growled at the mention of nuggets. His mind formed the image of some dino nuggies, a popular and delicious meal. "Ah, witch doctor seeks to cure? No, not cure. Xib heard jaspear say op-opti....optional. That be word." He added with a few nods, asserting his superior intellect over the rat. "Bah! By who orders does Jaspear come? Or does flatback wish to steal for self? Xib knows of sand chimps, tricky things, always scheming. So this one been told. What in it for Xib? A tot for tater arrangement. No work for free when one can get paid." He pointed out while patting his tum tum.

The calmness of the marshland had been violated. Xib's wonky ears overheard the bad words coming from the rat man. All he wanted to do was relax under the suns, yet his station didn't afford the reptile much downtime. Those snappers clicked together as the great waddler moved his right eye alone to study the tiny mammal. The shelled one growled as he suffered the flapping lips of the plant picker. These warmbloods were all the same, always in a rush with their speech. Annoyed, Xib wiggled on his basking stone as his stubby fingers clutched his log. The two stones attached to his side banged against that remarkable shell. The algae Xib had collected over the years was lightly abraded off. A development that didn't please the great pillowsopher. He huffed, popping a snot bubble as that head elongated as the head turned to face Jasper. Xib blinked one eye after the other while he removed his dominant hand to scratch his bum bum. He'd inspect the odor stealthily, only to recoil from disapproval. The choo choo rank was still present. Its mark was foul, unlike the welcoming fragrance of the bog. A goofy grin appeared across the reptile's face as the fast-talker complimented him. It only made sense that such a tiny brain would seek the wisdom of the turzien. Xib wasn't a miracle worker, but he wasn't one to hide from a challenge. Gayly he would totter ahead and thwack the hurdle into submission. He chuckled before wiggling that neck so that its flaps clapped. The misquotes were shooed away by his jerky motion as the shelled one prepared to address the rat man. "This one be Xib. Xib be I. Does rat man wish to speak? Does rat man desire wisdom of the shell? Why chatter so fast? Bah! Warm blood always in hurry, Soft backs no appreciate conversating. Varlet! Slow down. Company is meant to be enjoyed, like steeped bog water." Xib groused in his native tongue as he slowly rose. His knees popping as a gargling sound echoed from his gullet. Those two eyes moved in different directions as Xib turned his body to the left and right. His eyelids narrowed as he was confident that they were alone. His neck stretched out as he shielded his snapper with a hand. "We not talking correctly? What is proper way to chat? Whatever. Xib no care. This one humor flat back. Tell Xib why you wish to become intimate with the marsh. This one had much knowledge to share. But this one no gives to sand chimps. Tell Xib, why do you wish to know the secret of the fen?" The reptile questioned as he began to wonder what Rat would taste like. Xib had never eaten Rakata. He weighed if they tasted like Bovinite or Mer. Doubtful, Jasper looked far more gaunt. There wasn't enough meat for those brittle bones. Lucky for the uncultured rodent. "You know Xib's name, but this one no know yours? Is it not custom to give a name?" He added before dropping into the water, paddling closer to the alchemist as he lugged his log close behind. Bubbles were visible that rose to the surface. And it came from a rearward position.

Sal found himself caught in a deep contemplative state. The meek guard considered the ramifications of his choice. Was he worthy to wield such power? The very thought that his actions might tarnish the tribunal was unsettling. He vowed to carry out his duties with the utmost zeal. So far, his devotion never wobbled concerning the faith, and he couldn't imagine a future where it languished. So Zelena needn't worry that her belief in this lowly prawn would be wasted. The flame in those black eyes erupted as Salman reached a conclusion. His chest swelled with pride even as his oceanic mother pointed out his defects. Indeed, Sal could have been better. And while many faults might mark his body. He hoped to utilize it to appease the benevolent trinity that shielded his people. And rather than be disgruntled by her actions, he took it as an opportunity for self-reflection. He would be their eyes, ears, and sword. And will ensure all dissenters were swept away by the tide of his righteous indignation. The crustacean was shocked once Zelena brought up her belief in him. Had she already arranged everything? Did this imply there was no choice but the illusion of it? No, this only further strengthened his belief. The tribunal knew excellence; who was he to challenge their will? And as quickly as those thoughts bobbed to the surface, they'd be submerged. "I will not fail you." He replied before bowing once her tendril allowed him to do so. There was no time to ask pointless questions or delay. Salman understood this was a test. Zelena likely wished to see how quickly the guard assumed the mantel of an ordinator. His heart drummed across his chest as he still struggled to believe this was anything short of a dream. "I will retire from my old life and embrace the calling." He declared before turning and marching toward the exit. He'd trek to his quarters if she let him go and that tentacle door opened. One thing was clear. His life was about to change forever. "Ordinator..." Sal mumbled before dismantling the preconceived notion of his place in the world. Whatever the new limits were surpassed his limited understanding, and he looked forward to discovering them.

The tribunal's movement alarmed the zealot. Could he have somehow invoked her righteous indignation? Salman doubted that his goddess sought to snuff out his brief existence. The sea made flesh need only request that he takes his life, and he'd gladly execute her decree. To Sal, his existence is inconsequential when compared to the solemnity of his vows. And he'd meet that fateful rendevous with pride. Doubly so, given his current location. Bafflement settled over the crustacean as Zelena blessed him with her exalted vicinity. A tide of questions gave way to a current of humility. How could he, a lowly servant, ever aspire to repay this favor? Just being close to his heavenly mother eroded any semblance of accomplishment. Next to her, he was not even a prawn, more a plankton cast adrift within the imperfect ocean he inhabited. Salman respectfully studied the oceanic diamond from the moment she rose, to the second she closed the gap between them. The sols she had for eyes magnetically stole the attention of his blackened beads. Their mesmerizing light held a benign aura and radiated tranquility. Bravely the lobster kept his composure. And if it weren't for the trembling of those knees, he might have duped the tribunal before him. The once temperate waters changed to that of a glacial sea. Sal wasn't offended or annoyed by her statement. He agreed with her perfect assertions. However, one section of her speech stood out the most. What did Zelena mean by "not as you are now?" Was it possible she gleaned something from the bottomfeeder that his mortal eyes couldn't perceive? Whatever the case, he'd abide and nibble on that thought. Zelena continued her sermon. The pure flow of her tongue further strengthened the radical's devotion to her. Everything she had highlighted left him flabbergasted. Nevertheless, his precarious situation altered in a blink of an eye. Long gone was the gelid kiss of the water. And in its place stood a boiling ocean fueled by aspiration. Whoever those others were that doubted his dedication were fools. No matter the role, he'd bear that cross with distinction. Even the prospect of dying for the faith held no sway over his resolve. Those obsidian eyes widened as Zelena laid forth her proposition. His three hearts nearly stopped their drumming as everything exceeding this moment seemed irrelevant. And without delay, the loyal servant dropped to his knees before his queen. "Your doubt regarding the strength of my conviction in our faith doesn't offend me. I am a fallible prawn. However, through this divine appointment, I'll become whatever you desire." Sal looked down at his feet, finally gaining control of his shakey legs. Passionately, the guard brought his fist to his chest, banging on it loudly before raising his head to look at his goddess. "I surrender myself to your divine authority. And will purge all heretics from our shores, even at the cost of my soul. I swear this before the tribunal and the martyrs of our cause." Sal rose to his feet, those eyes staring into the unearthly orbs of Zelena. "What will you have your ordinator do?"

Salman had heard accounts of the hall of reconciliation. But never in his wildest dreams did he suspect he'd stand inside of it. The significance of humility almost broke his spirit. Never before had such a deluge of unmerited blessings been bestowed on the lobster. What had he done to be awarded this honor? He was a meek guard who merely maintained his duties. And as hard as it was, he'd struggle to wander his eyes to far in case he sinned. The voice of his mother was otherwordly. Never before had he considered it held such temperance. Perhaps it was due to his dedication, but Sal swore it interspersed a charm over his fallible mind. The sentry wouldn't delay, and so he rose immediately once authorized. However, Salman abstained from looking up at Zelena and remained motionless as she resumed speaking. Sal eventually gave into temptation and dared to move his obsidian eyes up at the seated tribunal. And on her lap, he beheld the oracle Sloth. Zelena really was the sea incarnate. That incomprehensible suit of flesh moved about like the current of the ocean. And along her body, he spotted the barnacles that harbored prying eyes. His focus then navigated over toward that throne of boneless limbs. Yet another nautical element that begged to be admired. Zelena voiced before how those southerners abhorred her appearance. And for the life of him, Sal couldn't see why. While brazen, his admiring stare held no glimmer of a sexual draw. Instead, the way he beheld her could only be described as utter idolization. The lobster pondered and considered her words. he hung on each word as if it were gospel. And while perhaps silly, he entertained the possibility this was all some test. What wickedness plagued their southern hearts to justify disavowing the sea made flesh? The hateful and abusive language and actions they hurled were utter heresy. And if Sal had his way, he'd disembowel them all for such impiety. But luckily for those sinners, Zelena was nothing if not merciful. And being mindful of this only reaffirmed his theology. Once prompted, Sal glanced about the room. Every detail contained within this space told a story. The bards' magnificent words concerning its beauty failed to do it justice. And having weighed everything and paddled through that downpour of emotions, the lobster was ready to speak to the tribunal of knowledge. "The hall of reconciliation." The crustacean shifted a bit, his body trembling from the mixed emotions swelling under his exoskeleton. "This is where those charged with maintaining the faith across the entire sea are to be laid—missionaries and saints, along with the sworn judges and vanguards of our way of life. Their bodies memorialized so their sacrifices are never forgotten. Even when I was on my knees, I didn't deserve to be in their presence. I'm but a prawn—a guppy within the ocean of greatness." Salman once more looked about the room. Their people were young, yet already a few bore that privilege and paid the ultimate price for their devotion.

@Zelena