World Tree MUSH

 It was /supposed/ to just be a quick trip to Limberry. A small caravan with a few Church priests wanting to make the trip to the Marquis' domain, some light supplies. And then torrential rain forced the caravan to make camp near the marshes. 

 It's a lightly guarded affair, with just a pair of knights, a black mage, and that rather large Templar looking woman. They've managed to set up a tent over the chocobos and most of the goods, but the rest of the time is spent huddled between what cover the trees can give and the single wagon the group has. 

 "By Ajora, which one of you lot went and made the Father angry, eh? Lose a toe in all of this muck!" Scowls the woman. No one is happy here, Claudia least of all. Grump! 

 That's when the sounds of monsters fills the air. Out of the trees, emerges a trio of goblins from one copse, and from cover of rain down the road, wandering spirits of soldiers make their way towards the fleshy, delcious group. Gobbo gobbo! 

 One of the Knights yells. "To arms!" Then she's clashing sword-to-club with a goblin. Claudia is moving to take care of the spirits. The black mage is casting a spell. They're severely outnumbered though judging by the sounds moving in the woods!

One might think that a woman with long curly blonde hair and clad in a bikini would be having a tough time out here in a foreign world, with no basic survival equipment or supplies. But as Ayla gazed in the glazed over black eyes of the deer she'd taken down a time or so earlier--well, one might be surprised! Ayla frankly loved it here--and while that deer was probably off-limits to poachers, Ayla clearly didn't know (or care) about such. That thing had been so easy to spook and run off a cliff-side it never knew what hit it. Just wait till she told Kino and the others back home!

Ayla crouched near an already roaring fire cordoned off by a ring of stones, in which a few trees had given up their branches to make a spit--which she was currently letting the beast slowly cook over--grabbing onto a whole cooked leg with her teeth. The entire scene would likely give a PETA advocate a heart attack.

It was just then that the call to arms went up--there was some trouble abrewin' off in the distance--and it was enough to distract Ayla further from her task--keeping the haunch of meet clenched in her teeth and taking up a club she had handy--she was off. In fact she was still holding that haunch in her teeth as she appeared on a hill just above where she had camped, looking down at the chaos now as she leapt down--her sabrecat tail scarf fluttering in the wind!

The first goblin is assaulted by a wooden club--Ayla only switching out the haunch of meat to smack another over the head with after the birch tree branch she was wielding breaks--yes, she's clubbing them with a cooked leg of an naimal!

 Perhaps Ayla is smarter than many who call Ivalice home! In better times a /very/ bored set of squires might patrol this area to keep it free of such poachers. Now is arguably worse than the Fifty Year's war. With the rain and muck it causes, there's little likelyhood of any highwaymen interrupting that delicious spitted meal of meat. 

 The clearly insane blonde appears just in time! The knightess and the goblin trade blows, the creature getting lucky with a strike to the head. She falls with a cry, not able to raise her sword in time over the concussion rattling her brain. And then, /WHACK/! The strength of the primitive monkess sends the first goblin flying into a tree. Crashing unconscious, it twitches. 

 Th second is slightly more aware now, fending off Ayla's blow at the cost of a broken arm. It's remaining arm raises, ready to smack the woman! 

 Then the knightess runs the gobling through from behind. Ivalice chivalry on full display. There's still one left there, and those undead to worry about. "I don't know who you are, but I owe you my life!" Comes the Knightess. Wobbly, she turns to the last goblin, not at all questioning Ayla. No time. 

 Meanwhile, the black mage and Claudia put on a show against the ghosts. An archer ghost clips the black mage just as he finishes a thunder 2 spell, crashing down amidst the spirits. It does little, and the trio of ghostly archers then fire upon Claudia. The monk does a perfect, spinning roundhouse to knock most of the arrows out of the way. 

 And then her fist raises high, glowing with holy light! Smashing the ground into a crater, a line of ki bursts through one of the ghosts and putting them to rest. 

 A glance back to their new ally. "We just keep on meeting queer travels, don't we friends!? Ahh, at least this one looks a proper sort! Oi, lass! Keep that up, be load and fierce, eh? Goblins are cowards, they'll all piss off if we put the fear of Ajora in 'em! Leave the spirits to me!" A grin!

"Oof! You pretty skinny--have bite to eat!" Ayla stuffs the haunch of meat she had been using as a club against the last goblin into the gobbo's mouth before delivering a series of snap kicks to it's chest and face, trying to send it tumbling over. Well, it was a decent trade, in her opinion--she hadn't even finished that leg of deer!

The sudden wave and shock of the thunder spell going off in the vicinity surprises Ayla--the only person she knew of that could do something like that was... well, Cro definitely was /not/ here, and that guy who just cast it was /definitely/ not friendly. At first she was not sure what she was looking at--the pale visage and transparent form of some kind of person--using a bow--she got that--but she wasn't entirely sure what was wrong with him.

What she /was/ certain about however, was the sudden static discharge that had sent her long curly blonde hair standing on end, practically!

"Eyaaaaah--what happened?!" Ayla looked like she had tears in her eyes, clenching fists and looking up at her hair, then her eyes settled back down on the ghost.

"Weird pale man shall PAY!" she clenched her fist with a crack of her knuckles, and then attempted to vault through the air--arms outstretched, trying to POUNCE the ghost archer!

 Huuurk! Chomp! The gobbo dutifully does so, but then snap kicks! Poor monster is down and out, stars over his head! While still chewing. 'Eating' is a goblin's often only instinct. Nomf nomf nomf! 

 Pounce! Over flies Ayla, and even Claudia is given pause here. Seeing those staticy blonde curls, she glares at her own mage. The man smiles nervously at the Templar, but then they're all focusing on the remaining ghosts. 

 One more shot at Ayla, and then ghostguy goes WHUMP. She gets lots of really, really cold and chilly ectoplasm on her. Ugh, ew. This archer ghost drops his weapon, and goes for a knife! Time to stab a cute blonde! Such is life in Ivalice, and the Afterlife! 

 The black mage has turned his attention to toasting a few stray goblins that creep out of the woods, and the knights have moved to keep an eye on the now panicked civilians on the small caravan. Lots of sobbing and general chaos, but they seem to have it under control. Claudia meanwhile rushes the last soldier-ghost. Archery turns to fists, as this one must have also been a monk in the past life. Kicks and blows are traded, Claudia's blood and scraps of robe and armor shred away. But holy light is slowly winning out against this powerful departed spirit!

Ayla winds up with the ghost archer's ectoplasm all over her! Well, it does mousse her hair back a bit, but she isn't happy about being covered in that stuff, either! She rears her fists back to bring them down on the ghost pulling the knife--but is given pause--if she swings and doesn't connect he's going to have precious seconds to sink the knife. She's dealt with blades before, of course--it wasn't as if Dino men didn't use weapons too--and she'd dealt with creatures with fangs and beaks enough to know that a failed strike was the difference between life and death.

"Arghh!" Ayla relents and opts to try and grab the arm wielding the knife with both hands, trying to gain control of the creature's weapon and gaining a long scarlet shallow slice along her shoulder. The ghost felt odd--gooey, icky, strange--were the first things that came to mind--it was like boxing with an opponent that almost wasn't solid enough to sustain blows--her fingers feeling like they were sinking into him rather than her grip tightening.

And so she brought her knee up /hard/ into the ghost's lower abdomen and gut in a classic self-defense move.

 Yoink! The touch of death has given this archer more strength than he had in life. Even as it feels like Ayla's controlling hands break 'bone', there's no cry of pain. Just more splattering ectoplasm everywhere. It smells like despair and horrible ripe socks. Tentacious little guy, as he looks like he's trying to headbutt Ayla even as her knee winds up! 

 WHAM! 

 The ghost goes cross-eyed. With a howl of soul-crushing pain, he pops into a single little ball of soul-stuff before fading away. 

 Said soul ball has a >,< face the entire time. He'll go to his wife in sadness. 

 Finally the last ghost falls as Claudia breaks their spectral bow, then kicks them in the head. They fall into a soul ball, and all is still. Breathing hard for a moment, she wipes her bloody forehead and turns to survey the battlefield. One knight getting treatment. The black mage looks like he's scared, but alive. She feels in one piece-ish. 

 Then it's over to Ayla. "Oi! Lass! You alive over there?" She calls. A wave to the rest of her companions to stay back. This might be a crazy, feral woodswoman or something!

Ayla goes for the knee blow, as well as the head-butt--she's going to be damned if any weird pale man is going to try and out head-butt her!

SPLORSH.

Of course, the effect of this is rather... strange? she finds herself covered in more ecto-goo, slipping and falling on it as she writhes about on the ground, covered in a thin sheath of the stuff.

"Augh... he slimed me," she pulls herself up, her brown fur bikini and the tail scarf running down her back is now plastered to her. She's in need of a shower. Or forty.

"Ayla just trying to eat..." she half-groaned half-whined, not above doing so it seemed, even as she pulled herself up. Her vision might be a little dizzy after apparently head-butting that ghost back into the spectral plane.

"Ayla okay, just shaky still," she puts a hand to her temple and shakes her head again, clearing her vision.

"Why little men and goo people attack you?" she asks, her furred boot coming away from the ground with strands of ecto-plasm still clinging to it.

 Claudia...is smiling. Ahh, yes, memories of her first ghost fight. Some things cannot be described. They must be experienced. She takes off her robe, dusts off the leather beneath, and offers the thing over to Ayla. 

 "First time fighting the departed is...messy. Dry off lass before the rains come and drench us all again. Can't have you dying from cold after that right winner of a knee!" Reach. A smack on the back of the poor woman. Ugh. She wipes off her gauntlet. 

 Then she's casting a Cure 1 on Ayla. Green healing magic washes over her. 

 A glance to the caravan. "Tend to the wounded! We've got one more coming along!" 

 She's trying to drag Ayla over to vague safety. And a warm place to lay down and clear that head. There's enough room in the wagon for Ayla if she curls a little. 

 "You're either daft or from that big rottin' tree, lass. You're near the swamps, infested with goblins and the recent battles have spirits of dead soldiers lingering. Ivalice is in an awful state. No road's safe these days. Tasty delicious meat and people calls ghosts and goblins easy enough." 

 "Templar Claudia Kinborrow. The Church owes you for the assistance. What is your name, hmm?" She finally eyes her over. 

 Yup, /definitely/ primitive madwoman.

Ayla looks at the robe, at first thinking Claudia was offering it to her like a tissue--but she takes it anyway, and throws it over her shoulders.

Then, curative magic washes over her like a balm--she finds a shiver run up her spine and feels momentarily invigorated--excitement welling up in her, but just for a moment. It was the typical sort of 'high' one got from it. Elation, might have been a better term.

"Strange, why it like this?" Ayla knows nothing of this land or it's politics, or it's history--all of which were rather vital to her understanding the situation--but even if one were to explain, the idea that the current turmoil was due to soldiers not getting paid wouldn't make sense to her anyway--in her land you fought to protect your people and did it to survive.

"I'm Ayla--from Ioka village. It... far far away from here, not from this land. I come from big tree--yeah!" she nodded quickly, even as she's dragged off. She allows this.

"Kinborrow? Ayla like strong people, be they men or women!" she grins. Uh oh.

 Wince. Yeah, she's not getting that robe back. Her Church tailor is going to yell at her again. Putting that aside, she ponders Ayla's question even as she looks the woman over. For all her boisterousness, she's a Templar. A good one. The reason they keep her around is that she knows how to distill a complex political landscape into terms understandable to even the most simple of peasants. 

 ...This still might be a challenge. Claudia lets the woman introduce herself before hopping up into the wagon. Driver's seat for Claudia, she waves to the back. There's a hay-and-bedroll lined area for the wounded. A priest is tending to the more seriously wounded knightess. Little moaning though, these Church folks are tough. 

 "Sorry everyone! No time to rest, this place is not safe." 

 She flicks the chocobo reigns, and the still weary caravan gets going. There's enough light left that they could maybe make Limberry if they push hard. They do. 

 "Well, wish it was with a pint and a bowl of soup my fine lass, but Ajora moves us all to our fates as it pleases! Honor's all mine! Hah, I should see this Ioka. Can hardly be as wretched as our lovely little ball of dirt!" Wink! Right at Ayla. She's so friendly! 

 "Now you're a bright lass! I like that attitude! Yes, I do believe we could be friends!" 

 Her good cheer evaporates though. "Long story short, my recently ecto-blasted lass, is that Duke Larg and Duke Goltanna are very powerful men. They control...many, many villages. And have matching warriors. They're at war. No warriors to keep monsters and bandits at bay. So it's left to us, the Holy Church of Saint Glabados, to help those caught in the middle without anyone else to turn to. Wretched, lowborn dogs left to die, we are their only hope in this time of madness. I pray your village never knows this sort of depravity." She spits over the side of the wagon.

"You have people hurt?" Ayla asks, getting led closer to the rest of the caravan and the people that had received injuries. She then blinks as she notices the cart and the large chocobos hitched to it, a ride!

"It not as rainy and green as this," she gestured around herself, pulling herself up into the wagon to go along with the knights. She could find more food later--doubtless people or beasts would stumble on her firepit in time and have their own barbecue.

"Ayla's people at war too--long time, I know," she nods a little. She doesn't know who Larg and Goltanna are, but she's taking the information in. Tribe war--clan war? That was sense enough to her.

"Two tribes warring, got it--what is church?" she doesn't have an idea of what that means, though! Whoops.

Claudia Kinborrow shrugs. "We have enough white mages for the journey, lass. Or priests that play the part. They'll be fine, Ajora willing. You rest!" There's this almost motherly, or perhaps nunly, commandment in her voice. Like someone on the path to being a village elder. Even if she's not yet older enough for that! 

 Ahem. Lips purse. Excellent, she's curious. The wince of zealotry in her is soothed by opportunity. She's ignorant of even what a church is. Madwoman. This is her duty. 

 "We're wandering healers, warriors, and diplomats. Many in both Duke Larg's and Duke Goltanna's villages rely on us for protection, healing, and...ensuring their souls are pure. Do you have any concept of the 'spirit' in your land, Ayla?" 

 A wave of her hands. Another flick of the reigns as she deftly maneuvers around a slick muddied pothole in the road. 

 "Think of us as a neutral collective of villages with agreements with the other villages. It'll no doubt seem strange, even to us and we live here! The two Dukes both want to control all villages for themselves. We keep the two Dukes from destroying all villages in their ambitions." 

 Like a good Templar, she twists this to her own ends. 

 "Tell me about your home. Ioka, and your enemies, eh, my new friend?"

"Yes, Ayla do," Ayla is nodding and feeling better, even though the euphoria of the earlier healing has more or less worn off. She's kind of enjoying the ride--as bumpy as it might be, and getting warmer under the robe she's been given. Which might probably be to properly hide her since she did walk around in a fur bikini--but she doesn't know that. She's just glad to be given something to wear after getting soaked.

"All creatures are spirit of land, the strong survive and the weak die--that is law of the land," she nods, looking over at Claudia as she asks her questions.

"Clan warlords, huh... that not good... Ioka is dry, sunny place! you like it!" she nods with a grin.

 Those robes are surprisingly comfy! And hey, they more-or-less fit Ayla's frame too! Amazonian women unite. 

 Glance. Several of the priests look like they're thinking of drawing knives. Claudia gives a less-then-subtle glare back. Let the Templar handle this! 

 "Well. All spirits return to the Father under Saint Ajora's grace, it's true, lass! And heh, you've the right of it. Death comes swiftly to those unprepared. Or the prepared for that matter." Smile. 

 "Swear above, the land's not quite this rainy! Rainstorms they're unseasonal here. Washes away crops. Drought over half the land. People starve, times are tough and lawless." 

 A genuine sad note, divorced from any manipulation. Zealous crusader or not, at least her end goal is pure-ish. 

 "I've business to attend to, but Miss Ayla, it'd be a right pleasure to see your Ioka! How about you stay in Limberry. The Marquis Elmdore is a good man. Far removed from those Dukes, no matter his birth. Will put in a good word, make sure you've a warm room and enough food. Then we'll set out on an adventure. How's that sound?" Smile! 

 Pause. "Tell me something. You intend to stop your village's fighting? Ain't never sustainable. What're the wretches like? Godless heathens, no doubt."

Ayla is blissfully unaware of why the priests would be reaching for daggers so quickly after her just saying that--she doesn't know how much these guys take their religion seriously! She listens carefully when Claudia explains the spiritual aspect, nodding--tilting her head curiously.

"Hmm, too much rain? that not good--Ayla go with you and see you there safetly," she nods, rubbing her hands together to warm them a bit and crack the knuckles, getting more used to the robe.

"Ayla fight so Ayla's tribe survives, we drive off dino men, stay alive," Ayla clarifies, it's a bit more simple than what was going on with Ivalice.

"Ayla help Claudia fight, too!" she lifts a mighty fist of blonde power, giving Claudia a knowing nod and a grin.

"Dino men are large and scaly, they been around lot longer than us--they mean," she explains, kicking back a bit. Yeah, the wagon is rocking her to sleep a little bit, as well. It wouldn't really hurt, right? She yawns a little, seeming to already be comfortable on the hay.

 Smirk. "There we are, then! See, I /knew/ we would be good friends Miss Ayla! So fierce you are! Should have you teach a few of our squire moppets and little lads a thing or two! Right then, a deal it is. Can respect a woman that's all about keeping the lads and lasses alive!" 

 Simple, sure. But simple is an easy thing to use to one's advantage. Proper colonialism sparks in Claudia's mind. 

 She reaches back, and flicks Ayla's nose. "Deal, lass. In fact, might just have a job for you, if you've the fists for it." Oh yes. Opportunity cracks knuckles. 

 Dinos. Weird She doesn't know what that means. But she tucks it away for later. As Ayla lays back? 

 One more healing spell, to soothe the savage woman-cat to sleep. 

 "Oh, we'll have a right fun time together. Dino men and bluebloods will curse our name, sweet friend."