The [Guild] soon got done mocking and returned to their various tasks to prepare the camp.

Only the young [Druid] remained close to keep an eye on the recovering bird. When Algernon was finally sober again, he raised his feathered head with a breathy moan, which sounded more like a pitiful yip to the others, but at least it got the message across: His poisoning was dealt with, but he still lacked the usual spring in his wing. I'll need something like a full 70 hours at ease to feel properly well-rested and relaxed again.

But Algernon was grateful to be back among what at least amounted to proper folks once more, compared to being surrounded by insects and rodents. Or labor & prey. Looking around there were quite a few new faces, but then his eyes caught on something bizarre, unreal. It was the largest damn bird he’d ever seen, and it was staring right at him.

Algernon was staring back reflexively, but he still addressed Harold out of the corner of his mouth. “Psst, psst, hey, hey [Druid]. [Druid]!”

Roldy was busy exercising, but he got up from his elevated, static one-point stance and walked over dripping in sweat. “What is it, birdie?”

The violating nickname finally made Algernon’s eyes relax from being widened in shock, and he looked over to glare. “Ape, what have you mutated this time?”

Harold followed his eyes over to Richard, their newest fowl companion. “Hah. Wasn’t me, Redd’s son is a [Farmer] specialized as a breeder. I did provide some internal improvements, though. That's Oscar's new mount!”

That claim made the owl look back over at the creature and reassess. It was not that he had never seen ostriches before, just none so large. And this one seemed different. Is it the unnatural movement?

But the thing was only stepping from foot to foot, not even moving around, so he failed to pin whatever it was down. Anyway… If it was a minion of Oscar’s, then ny extension it was also a minion of Algernon... Within seconds a plan materialised, to establish dominance.

He turned from the ignoble [Druid] and hopped off, not bothering to fly, taking a route away from prying eyes behind a tree. The [Druid] was watching to see what he was up to, but this was no concern of his. From there Algernon made his way up a tree, then he simply soared down out of sight, silent as the night; ending up high up in a tree, situated right behind the hulking beast.

It was clearly a bit thick, since it was still staring intently at the first tree he’d gone behind. Then he struck; and landed right on its back where a rider would usually sit.

Its neck twisted like a viper, and when its eyes rediscovered him so close, it let out a furious cry and immediately turned its body to position its lethal legs in his direction; and obviously Algernon just moved right along–since he was on top of the rotating bird's body.

This enraged it further; now it felt tricked. It had clearly turned around, to the direction it had seen him in, and he still refused to be placed in front of its spurs. The sheer insolence was unacceptable, so it went for the peck instead–and this was where it managed to surprise the cocky owl.

That long neck was all ligament, and far more elastic than Algernon had accounted for; namely the [Druid]'s handiwork after his interviewing Sten about the improvements his [Ductile Ligaments] could provide. It pecked at a speed that was unnatural, and only Algernon’s equally unnatural reflexes saved him, and only when combined with his wind magic which buffeted the attack slightly off course as he dodged.

But now the owl was in motion; and the ostrich missed, but reacted by dashing in a new direction–which put the out-of-position bird precariously near to the edge of his bucking platform. Algernon flapped his wings and made it back to the centre, but now the pattern started repeating. Great Spirit knows how the thing kept from getting dizzy, but all the while it stayed pecking as Algernon kept dodging and buffeting. The struggle went on for more than 30 seconds, which seemed like a lifetime to Algernon, and any bullrider would have agreed. It raised a hell of a commotion, drawing the attention of the whole camp–before a peck finally struck true and the smaller fowl went sailing through the air, flailing in an arc across the campfire to land heavily on the other side.

Heavy for a bird anyway. Ouch, that’s gonna leave a bruise.

When the owl sprang right back up, after lying still for a mere 2 seconds to gather his breath, he revolved right back around to keep trying to jockey for position, but Oscar finally got in the way with his hands raised to the sides to block the path. “What are you doing you mad...man, stop attacking Richard... Harold, what’s he up to?”

The [Druid] was chuckling so excessively he was wiping tears out of his eyes, but he explained quickly. “He’s dominating your mount Oscar, says that it’s his minion now too, he’s the bigger bird where it counts, apparently.”

Algernon couldn’t get past Oscar without stopping to think, so he turned to Harold to voice a common complaint. “Why do you always do that, translate me so badly? Insinuating things... I said I am his superior, and clearly meant in terms of mind. Don’t you understand nuance, you dull ape?”

Oscar had to turn to Harold to have the sounds explained again, but the [Druid] was past bothering. “It’s just the law of the forest Oscar, he needs to physically dominate somehow, to determine where they stand in relation to each other. There’re no hard feelings involved, usually.”

“Why can’t he just explain to it that it should follow his ideas, it can tell he’s smart surely?”

“It just doesn’t care, sees it all as theoretical. It sort of just thinks it is in a different league of being, it’s hard to explain. Algernon just needs to prove himself, so far he’s doing a shit job of it” The [Druid] had no stakes in this, other than entertainment, so he treated the puffed up owl to his best, challenging smile.

Oscar massaged the bridge of his nose to try and get a grasp on things. “Alright, I don't honestly care, Algernon if you can’t figure out a smarter way to dominate a brute like that, without harassing him physically, then you are not the bird I thought you were, and I will need to reconsider our cooperation,”

The owl puffed up even further, working himself up into a huff. “It’s not right, it is unfair!”

But Harold was not inclined to nag Oscar on Algernon’s behalf. “It’s not my fault your brute is too dumb to understand good arguments, he literally won’t listen, he thinks he’s a king damn it!” The owl sent a buffet the ostrich's way to have its offended reaction emphasise his point. “How he tolerates your riding him I have no clue,”

Well, he’s obviously been properly trained. Harold thought it, but didn’t say it, so he made another point instead. “You know he’s right though, I get it’s not worth the effort when there’s a reliable way already, but if you give it proper thought you’ll think of another method. It’s just not usually worth the hassle, but trust me, humans do it for the experience all the time. It’s good exercise, you know? Treat it as a thought experiment,”

The owl simply looked at him sceptically, so he kept going. “Look, you’re still recovering from a couple of rough days, you need to work on a new plan, how about you leave it for now. I got something you’re gonna like, I got it in Dormata from a couple of high level [Druids] after you had already left,”

Algernon was still looking put out, but the adrenaline was clearly fading; so he accepted the [Druid]'s assessment, and let his curiousity get the better of him. The strange smell that came his way next left no further room for any other distractions.

Roldy held it out; it was a mushroom, but it was completely dried out. Algernon had never eaten anything like it, and the smell wasn’t too good, so he looked at the offering ape with suspicion.

The young [Druid] was dirty and still stank of sweat, but his expression was earnest. “I promise you, there's lots of good mind affinity in there, somewhere, lying dormant. Some say it’s among the best, and it just needs the special stuff from your gut to activate,”

And the owl had no way to tell for sure, and he’d trusted the [Druid] all those other times… But at least then the stuff had had some sugar to help get you past the funky taste… This was going to be tough, if he could even force it down.

“Look, I’m only offering since you’ve stuck around, and me finding such things and sharing them with you was always part of the deal,” The next words seemed to come harder. “So, I won’t be indulging tonight, you can get the first go if you want it or we can do them together later, but I wanted you to know they’re available now, and they said they’re really good for returning yourself to a sense of balance, after you've had a rough week. Although they haven’t tried our mead stuff, so what do they know? Hah.”

That did finally convince the owl, and after a bad experience with alcohol, he did actually feel ready to relax into something new and different, but still trippy.

Hell, his body could use it too, just letting him sit fully relaxed and stare into space with the deepest of considerations to occupy him… Hm.

Yes, tonight was a good night for it, after all.

The two cousins, Matthias and Nicklas, had been fully prepared to squander another day while waiting for their [Classes], by looking for typical daytaler’s work at the lakeside recruitment centre. But then they’d gotten lucky when they took a chance at one of the rented [Guild] tents, for people who were passing through. It wasn't every week that outsider [Guilds] came along to recruit for projects in foreign places, but when it happened they were usually looking for Casters and various craftsmen and the like. This was a rare opportunity where such an organisation had come to Dormata in their early days, and without the intention of a longer stay to establish themselves in the capital.

But after that things had gotten stranger and stranger, fast. The mosswolf they could deal with; that was just part of working alongside [Druids]… But then there was the apparently very high level woman, whose only task seemed to be taking care of a strange, chronically hairy kitty?

On top of that they were pushing along a contraption, apparently some tool meant for efficient farming? Which looked more like it should be shooting lightning bolts.

And then there was the supposed leader… For some reason they had not chosen their highest level person, or even their strongest, as most [Guilds] were wont to do. Instead they had chosen one of the older girls, yet not the oldest, who it had to be admitted did stand out. But they had both been trying to figure out why that was. She talked funny, she looked around at everything a bit funny, and was sort of small and easily turned incognito. And she made tons of sense, some of the time. A lot of the time; but then she seemed to have an opinion on every little thing, and the majority of the time it seemed to differ from common sense, well-established opinions.

Despite this, their other new [Guild] mates seemed to mostly accept her various odd stances as a habit. It was strange.

Even when it began in the usual veins, like with her explaining how they next planned to make a proper stop in the upcoming town of Glendale and plan a route into the wilderness to find somewhere to establish themselves, based on whatever updates the rumour mill provided there; which was all sensible, maybe even clever if you were not relying on local experience. But mostly common sense really, as you needed to stay close to each other. Marking other settlements, major and minor, was key. And not for safety alone either, but for the exchanging of everything from rarer resources and news, and even access to to higher level Skills or even unique Classes only available from nearby settlements. But no, instead they were finding all that out so they could actually avoid the commonly settled spots - and go at this on their own?

Sigh. It was true things changed when you had casters, like they did, but Nicklas was mostly getting hung up on the logistics of it all.

It was fine in the end, even if they had a rough go of it and needed to extend their contract; negotiations could be held, and they they were already paying well for people without Classes, partly for them to stay that way for a while and discuss any potential picks before making them, but also to ensure they stayed the whole 6 months. With a [Class], and levels to boot, by then they could start earning real money... But if things were looking dire by that point, with no silver to go around in the first place... There was no doubt the two cousins would cut their losses, with whatever, hopefully rare, Class they could grab and run off with. They’d discussed as much before even showing up at the Legume.

Now it was day three, their 5th ever camping in the wild outside both village or their city, and they had started getting settling in with the campfire life.

Yesterday had been exhausting as they pushed the pace, but then there had been an extra village to get through tonight and so they’d been slowing down more than usual.

Nicklas went over to his pack and got out his biggest possession remaining in the world after selling off most of his things; his simple but sturdy kettle drum. It was a relaxing instrument to just hold in your lap and tap away at.

He started it out relaxed, not really being noticed. But after a while the evening had a steadily growing rhythm that people started moving to, consciously and subconsciously.

He had to stop for a bit, when the ostrich one of them rode–for some reason–started fighting with the strange magic owl who had shown up, and who they all somehow seemed familiar with–and of course, Nicklas avoided being rude during the following argument–but then he got right back to tapping.

Du-du-du-dum. Du-du-du-dum. He varied up the pace, but he kept it soft, and downright slow and steady, always looking around for outside stuff to match his beat to, in an attempt to make the sounds complementary.

Nicklas kept it going like that for another half an hour, and his arms started getting properly warmed up despite how he took his ease. Then suddenly the aggressive owl, who’d been placated earlier by the strangely dressed [Druid]–who seemed like he was leaning into the Class a big tad too much–suddenly walked his feathery butt over to switch from staring at the fire to staring right at Nicklas' eyes instead.

He looked over to his cousin, but Matt simply shrugged, and nobody else but the [Druid] seemed to be paying the rather large owl any level of attention.

Nicklas decided it probably just liked his vibe, and decided to simply let it watch, as he kept on drumming in peace. But then it suddenly hooted, and even pointed a wing right at him.

Nicklas had never had anything like such an experience with an animal before, and he just looked at the fowl confused, and his cousin was not helping either.

So Algernon turned to the [Druid] to translate, and for once he did it properly. “He’s saying you made a mistake there earlier, pay better attention and listen close,”

And now that made no sense at all. Nicklas had just been drumming to the beat of the night, making music to content his travel-weary heart. There was no right and wrong. But evidently the owl disagreed, and its pupils kept on getting larger and larger while it stared at the drum, completely focused.

One mistake too many made it screech in protest again, and Nicklas did attempt to find a more set pattern down the path he had been going, but it only seemed to placate the strange animal for a few dozen seconds before he apparently made another wrong turn somewhere.

He screeched, whilst the [Druid] translated, and Nicklas only grew all the more confused about what he was missing. It reached a head when the owl suddenly started moving its head from side to side, far past his own shoulders, dark pupils staring and looking higher than ever, as Nicklas tried his best to give the feathery pendulum a beat to fit his fixed eyes.

The camp had settled down over the course of the late evening, and at this point the others were settling down to get some sleep. But the owl and the [Druid] were as focused as ever, and Nicklas never thought of protesting once before he got swept along in the mood, despite his cousin's queer look.

Soon enough the owl was literally dancing, flaring its wings like the king of a totem pole, rotating his neck and still moving the little, clawed feet from side to side. They had started forming a primitive understanding of sorts. Not of anything deep, merely of when the next tap was meant to land, with what intensity, and what the next, and the next crescendo should be like.

Before long Algernon started moving around the fading campfire as well, rhythmically tapping his claws awkwardly, whilst waving eclectic patterns with his hypnotically mobile head.

They were at it for an hour, but then Nicklas started making mistakes again, and his pace slackened.

The demented owl went almost mad with distressed rage, flying at him and screeching to keep going as soon as his wrists stopped cramping.

Harold remembered he could help, and so walked over to provide a bit of healing and an energy boost, but then he even went to wake Kalle to see if he could help out with his Balm for a few minutes, just to make sure Nicklas felt closer to tip-top, because apparently this was important; if only to this peculiar owl, on this peculiar night, who might–or might not–be caught up in a fit of revelation.

Either that or senselessness.

Kalle did not even leave his bedroll, but simply blasted the newbie for a few minutes before returning to sleep at the encouragement of the rhythmic tattoo. Nicklas' cousin had long since passed out.

They kept at it all night after that. The dancing owl, the laughing [Druid], and the manic drummer boy.

When the others awoke in the morning all three of them had collapsed and were lying asleep, somehow ignoring the rising sun stinging through their eyelids.

Nicklas had seen one last message before he succumbed, and he had deliriously accepted in an exhausted fit of complete release from inhibition.

[Class Aspirant Detected: Nutcracker. Mechanical March. Yes/No?]

Yes.

Nicklas blacked out as a gentle chill wind caressed his cheeks. When he came to, he had vague recollections of a glowing winter paradise, although it was fading fast.

For a boy who'd grown up in a capital city surrounded by lakes, forests and farms, he'd always envisioned paradise as a sunset over a safe beach with fish brimming.

Before falling asleep he internalised a new vision beneath a clear winter sky with stars above and lights below, in a land that let cheer spread to every corner as beings of every kind, who had struggled during the year, all came together.

[Class Granted: Nutcracker]

[Skill Granted: Embody: Inanimate]

[Skill Granted: Ancestral Holiday Craft]

[Passive Granted: Winterland Fixture]

[Skill Granted: Headcrack]

[Passive Granted: Dovetail Joints]

[Skill Granted: Mechanical March]

[Domain Granted: Seasonal Sympathies]

[Skill Granted: Rhythmic Pounding]

[Skill Granted: Crackerjack Jaw]

[Skill Granted: Wooden Cicada Limb]