Shella Festival (IC)

[The Selkie]

Hello and welcome, dear readers and participants, welcome to the Shella Festival, a Harvest Festival held in lovely Shella, a fishing town in the Free Lands of the Selkie. I am glad to have you here!
To those, who wish to participate, please sign up and be accepted on the OOC. Said OOC can be found here.
To those, who already have done so, let's have some fun!

Shella, Soitheach House.
Ever since she woke up around an hour ago, the twelve year old Mona Beag of the Tribe of Louth had been positively giddy with anticipation. The orange-blonde haired girl, being on a vacation after a rather eventful trip to Ganosia, together with her caretaker and Big Sis in anything but blood, Amy Bansagart of the Tribe of Westmeath, arrived here a few days ago by seaplane, staying in the Banphrionsa Family's Soitheach House, a bit off to the side of the fishing village on a small island in the middle of the Great Sea.
They were hosting a Harvest Festival, as many towns did during this time of the year - and this year was no exception as she was happy to report. Apparently, besides a whole lot of Selkie showing up to the festival and the accompanying tournament, the harbour was preparing to receive foreign ships as well as their own. SDFS Carman Fea, a Rhiannon-I-class Frigate, was already in harbour, her sleek grey hull contrasting against the morning sea and the fisherboats with colourful sails going out to catch freshest fish, and of course contrasting with the Gaoth, the caravel in service with the University of Wembury having made a succesful voyage here.
Mona grinned, as she watched the beginnings of the last preparations for the festival from the balcony of Soitheach House. Stalls were erected, busy people beginning with their work as the ferry from Wembury arrived on the horizon, steaming towards Shella and arriving in a bit.
Suddenly, two arms snaked around her, making Mona squeal, especially as someone pecked her on the cheeks. "Morning, Mudskipper!", Amy whispered, the young woman with the rusty-red hair pulling her close into a loving embrace, "Looking forward to the festival?"
"Yep!", Mona answered with delight, grinning wildly, "Can we go down to the harbour, when the people arrive?"
Amy nodded. "Sure.", she said, before she stroked the back of the girl's hair, flattening a few strands of hair, "But first, we need to make ourselves look pretty!"
Mona giggled.
Around half an hour later, the two were at the harbour, an unofficial welcoming comittee, as the first foreign boats began to arrive, clad in Geansai in Lodan Lir's light blue and dark blue with the white stockings, and indeed looking pretty in the case of the older of the two and cute in the case of the younger.
They were anticipating the arrivals with good cheer.

[The Irish County of the Beare-Mor]

Waking up in the her cabin, swinging side to side with the waves, Sheila yawned. She stood up from within the cabin, and headed on deck, and walked to the prow. Her raven-black hair blowing with the wind.

She saw the shore up ahead, her destination, and smiled. "Nothing beats seeing your destination after a long voyage overseas." she thought to herself.

Her ship coasted smoothly to a stop, Sheila still looking up at the prow, at the harbour. Sheila turned and walked over to the side of the ship, and headed off, onto the dock. With her face shining in enjoyment, she further walked down the dock, and looked around, happily.

[Krugeristan]

Leaving the airport not too long ago, a tall, thin man with black hair and dark-blue eyes found the fishing town of Shella to be appropriate for a festival. Jakovi Kujanaero, one of only six Krugeristani athletes who were sent to Rio over the summer, was the nation's most famous sports figure, and tried to shoot wherever and whenever he could. Like all Krugeristani public figures, he was quiet and humble, but he was well-aware that other people here probably weren't the same. That being said, he debated over whether or not to avoid interaction with others. He wasn't petrified of people like his president, but he was just . . . firmly disgusted by how some people acted at festivals and parties. However, he was fully aware of the polite terms Krugeristan and the Free Lands were on, as well as the close friendship Golahman shared with a Selkie family.

Surely, the hosts would be civil, so Kujanaero put his hands in his pockets and wandered around Shella, trying to find someone who would show him to quarters, where to eat, and where "normal" people could hang out.

[The Selkie]

Waking up in the her cabin, swinging side to side with the waves, Sheila yawned. She stood up from within the cabin, and headed on deck, and walked to the prow. Her raven-black hair blowing with the wind.

She saw the shore up ahead, her destination, and smiled. "Nothing beats seeing your destination after a long voyage overseas." she thought to herself.

Her ship coasted smoothly to a stop, Sheila still looking up at the prow, at the harbour. Sheila turned and walked over to the side of the ship, and headed off, onto the dock. With her face shining in enjoyment, she further walked down the dock, and looked around, happily.

The first ship to arrive was under a flag neither Amy nor Mona recognized - not that it said much, they weren't really knowledgeable on the subject of flags. The ship, with a black haired woman on the bow, who disembarked as soon as the ship was docked, was placed close to the quay wall, to save space.
Mona, Envoy of the God of the Seas and Rivers, grinned as the woman as she disembarked, waving. "Good morning!", she called with a smile, making a few odd fishermen looking up. Amy smiled and waved as well. "Had a nice trip?"

Leaving the airport not too long ago, a tall, thin man with black hair and dark-blue eyes found the fishing town of Shella to be appropriate for a festival. Jakovi Kujanaero, one of only six Krugeristani athletes who were sent to Rio over the summer, was the nation's most famous sports figure, and tried to shoot wherever and whenever he could. Like all Krugeristani public figures, he was quiet and humble, but he was well-aware that other people here probably weren't the same. That being said, he debated over whether or not to avoid interaction with others. He wasn't petrified of people like his president, but he was just . . . firmly disgusted by how some people acted at festivals and parties. However, he was fully aware of the polite terms Krugeristan and the Free Lands were on, as well as the close friendship Golahman shared with a Selkie family.

Surely, the hosts would be civil, so Kujanaero put his hands in his pockets and wandered around Shella, trying to find someone who would show him to quarters, where to eat, and where "normal" people could hang out.

The man with black hair and dark-blue eyes, hands in his pockets, stood out like a sore thumb in the town of Shella, where both people were busily erecting their stalls and beginning with the preparations to sell their wares. All kinds of stuff, from bows and arrows, over toys and souvernirs to, of course, food.
One of these stalls was indeed a food-stall on one of the side-squares, which already turned on the fire in the back, where food was being prepared. On the menu was Selkie-Cuisine, mostly in the Shella-Variation, which meant much fish. Stobhach would be put on later, but for now, it was Maith and Battared Fish.
The waiters and waitresses were preparing themselves for the onslaught during breakfast-time. One of these waitresses was a young woman with golden-blonde hair, blue eyes, clad in Geansai and filling it quite well with her nineteen years, seeing the man sticking out like a sore thumb walking around searching.
She was a well raised lassie, motioning her people to wait for a moment and approached the man: "Good morning, Sir - can I help you?"

[The Irish County of the Beare-Mor]

Sheila heard the Selkie speak. She approached the 2, and smiled, "And good morning to you too, lass. The trip was fine indeed. And you must be?" she said, speaking in a soft tone, with a light accent.

[Krugeristan]

Leaving the airport not too long ago, a tall, thin man with black hair and dark-blue eyes found the fishing town of Shella to be appropriate for a festival. Jakovi Kujanaero, one of only six Krugeristani athletes who were sent to Rio over the summer, was the nation's most famous sports figure, and tried to shoot wherever and whenever he could. Like all Krugeristani public figures, he was quiet and humble, but he was well-aware that other people here probably weren't the same. That being said, he debated over whether or not to avoid interaction with others. He wasn't petrified of people like his president, but he was just . . . firmly disgusted by how some people acted at festivals and parties. However, he was fully aware of the polite terms Krugeristan and the Free Lands were on, as well as the close friendship Golahman shared with a Selkie family.

Surely, the hosts would be civil, so Kujanaero put his hands in his pockets and wandered around Shella, trying to find someone who would show him to quarters, where to eat, and where "normal" people could hang out.

The man with black hair and dark-blue eyes, hands in his pockets, stood out like a sore thumb in the town of Shella, where both people were busily erecting their stalls and beginning with the preparations to sell their wares. All kinds of stuff, from bows and arrows, over toys and souvernirs to, of course, food.
One of these stalls was indeed a food-stall on one of the side-squares, which already turned on the fire in the back, where food was being prepared. On the menu was Selkie-Cuisine, mostly in the Shella-Variation, which meant much fish. Stobhach would be put on later, but for now, it was Maith and Battared Fish.
The waiters and waitresses were preparing themselves for the onslaught during breakfast-time. One of these waitresses was a young woman with golden-blonde hair, blue eyes, clad in Geansai and filling it quite well with her nineteen years, seeing the man sticking out like a sore thumb walking around searching.
She was a well raised lassie, motioning her people to wait for a moment and approached the man: "Good morning, Sir - can I help you?"

Kujanaero gave the woman a slight nod. He was neither a politician nor a military officer--despite rising to lieutenant in the Krugeristani Special Forces years ago--and so he displayed submissive respect to the Selkie woman who approached him. "Good morning as well, madam." Like over sixty percent of Krugeristan, he had a Russian accent, as Russians and Euro-Americans had began mixing after Krugeristan's creation. "Help? Well, yes, I'd like to know where I'll be staying for the duration of this festival, and I'd also like to know . . . where more cultured people can stay. I'd very much like to be among people who enjoy having polite conversation rather than a bunch of drunken perverts."

[Ilha das Tempestades]

In the morning hours a rickety old boat pushed through the seas towards a coming shoreline propelled only by the wind and one hell of a captain it made the long journey from Tempestades to Selkie yet again. Amala looked on eager to land ashore again she had a wonderful time before and this time she was coming purely to enjoy good company and a good festival rather than compete. Nela and Rosana two members of her dance troupe joined her up on deck. Nela saw the shoreline and asked "That's it? Ah finally thought we'd never get here!"

"It as pretty rough going for a while but we're here." Rosana replied as well.

"This is where you came last time, Amala?" Nela inquired

"Well not quite, that was elsewhere in the country this is a whole new island I haven't seen before."

"Really? You sure we're in the right place?"

"Ask Ysabel she'd know best."

The girls made way to the bridge and asked her the very obvious of their captain friend, Ysabel, a girl with her hair as hot as her temper at times. "Well of course we are, I know how to read map coordinators just fine, thank you."

"With all the storms we had I was worried we might have been blown off course." Nela replied.

"Relax will ya, I'm a seasoned. Why else would you have hired me as your captain?"

"uuh yeah about that--" Amala sheepishly confessed she probably wouldn't be able to pay her.

"Sheesh you're just lucky the four of us are all friends otherwise I'd might just leave you behind."

"Nah you're too kind of a soul for that!" Rosana replied to her.

"Look at it this way, Ysabel you're getting a free trip out of this already." Amala smiled at her,

"A free trip you wanted you could have just gone to AHSCA, lot closer for starters." Ysabel replied.

"Trust me you'll love this place. I know I did. I learned a lot about them and they learned a few things about me"

"That why you had us bring our dance outfits?" Nela asked her. "You really think they'll let us dance for them?"

"Just in case. I mean you never know if I run into anyone I met at the last festival I promised I'd show them my dance. And if they don't they don't we can still get practice on our own time."

"Hey uuh won't that summon rain and wash the whole thing out?" Ysabel wondered.

"Oh" They all giggled at her "No, no we wouldn't have the rites by a Priestess to actually summon any rain. Unless Venus herself will it to be so our practice won't bring problems."

"That's our Amala she's always thinking about three things, crops, dance and her son." Nela gave Amala kind slap to her shoulder

Once again she had to level her son Bevel behind only for the fact the trip was much to long and treterious for a little boy to cross and it was crowded enough with four women.

"Hang tight gals, we'll be ready to pull into port soon enough."

[The Selkie]

Sheila heard the Selkie speak. She approached the 2, and smiled, "And good morning to you too, lass. The trip was fine indeed. And you must be?" she said, speaking in a soft tone, with a light accent.

"I'm Mona!", the girl said with joy in her eyes and a huge, toothy grin, motioning to her companion, "And that's Amy. We are from the Mainland, near Traverse. Amy's a Priestess, you see?"
The young woman with the rust-red hair nodded. "Priestess of the Cult of Lodan Lir, yes." She motioned down at herself, where her Geansai proudly displayed the colours, "As one can easily see. If I may ask..." The Priestess nodded towards the boat which the young woman arrived on. "I don't recognize the flag - where are you from?"

The man with black hair and dark-blue eyes, hands in his pockets, stood out like a sore thumb in the town of Shella, where both people were busily erecting their stalls and beginning with the preparations to sell their wares. All kinds of stuff, from bows and arrows, over toys and souvernirs to, of course, food.
One of these stalls was indeed a food-stall on one of the side-squares, which already turned on the fire in the back, where food was being prepared. On the menu was Selkie-Cuisine, mostly in the Shella-Variation, which meant much fish. Stobhach would be put on later, but for now, it was Maith and Battared Fish.
The waiters and waitresses were preparing themselves for the onslaught during breakfast-time. One of these waitresses was a young woman with golden-blonde hair, blue eyes, clad in Geansai and filling it quite well with her nineteen years, seeing the man sticking out like a sore thumb walking around searching.
She was a well raised lassie, motioning her people to wait for a moment and approached the man: "Good morning, Sir - can I help you?"

Kujanaero gave the woman a slight nod. He was neither a politician nor a military officer--despite rising to lieutenant in the Krugeristani Special Forces years ago--and so he displayed submissive respect to the Selkie woman who approached him. "Good morning as well, madam." Like over sixty percent of Krugeristan, he had a Russian accent, as Russians and Euro-Americans had began mixing after Krugeristan's creation. "Help? Well, yes, I'd like to know where I'll be staying for the duration of this festival, and I'd also like to know . . . where more cultured people can stay. I'd very much like to be among people who enjoy having polite conversation rather than a bunch of drunken perverts."

The waitress grinned. "Well, first thing depends on which inn you booked - the Cé Inn, by the wharfs, the Iascairí Inn, somewhere in that..." She made a vague motion towards the city centre, smiling. "...direction or Móraí Inn, where Granny Faye rules?"
She shrugged. "Granny Faye sure takes a lot of effort to make sure, that no ruffians, perverts and such stay at her place, but I can't guarantee, that they all are into polite conversations. Some of them tend to be rather silent..." She smiled at the man, shifting her weight a bit. "For now, though, if you want to stay with cultured people and have a bite to eat, you are at the right spot here - I hope, you that you like fish?"

In the morning hours a rickety old boat pushed through the seas towards a coming shoreline propelled only by the wind and one hell of a captain it made the long journey from Tempestades to Selkie yet again. Amala looked on eager to land ashore again she had a wonderful time before and this time she was coming purely to enjoy good company and a good festival rather than compete. Nela and Rosana two members of her dance troupe joined her up on deck. Nela saw the shoreline and asked "That's it? Ah finally thought we'd never get here!"

"It as pretty rough going for a while but we're here." Rosana replied as well.

"This is where you came last time, Amala?" Nela inquired

"Well not quite, that was elsewhere in the country this is a whole new island I haven't seen before."

"Really? You sure we're in the right place?"

"Ask Ysabel she'd know best."

The girls made way to the bridge and asked her the very obvious of their captain friend, Ysabel, a girl with her hair as hot as her temper at times. "Well of course we are, I know how to read map coordinators just fine, thank you."

"With all the storms we had I was worried we might have been blown off course." Nela replied.

"Relax will ya, I'm a seasoned. Why else would you have hired me as your captain?"

"uuh yeah about that--" Amala sheepishly confessed she probably wouldn't be able to pay her.

"Sheesh you're just lucky the four of us are all friends otherwise I'd might just leave you behind."

"Nah you're too kind of a soul for that!" Rosana replied to her.

"Look at it this way, Ysabel you're getting a free trip out of this already." Amala smiled at her,

"A free trip you wanted you could have just gone to AHSCA, lot closer for starters." Ysabel replied.

"Trust me you'll love this place. I know I did. I learned a lot about them and they learned a few things about me"

"That why you had us bring our dance outfits?" Nela asked her. "You really think they'll let us dance for them?"

"Just in case. I mean you never know if I run into anyone I met at the last festival I promised I'd show them my dance. And if they don't they don't we can still get practice on our own time."

"Hey uuh won't that summon rain and wash the whole thing out?" Ysabel wondered.

"Oh" They all giggled at her "No, no we wouldn't have the rites by a Priestess to actually summon any rain. Unless Venus herself will it to be so our practice won't bring problems."

"That's our Amala she's always thinking about three things, crops, dance and her son." Nela gave Amala kind slap to her shoulder

Once again she had to level her son Bevel behind only for the fact the trip was much to long and treterious for a little boy to cross and it was crowded enough with four women.

"Hang tight gals, we'll be ready to pull into port soon enough."

The old boat didn't really make a lot of an impression, if one asked the Skipper of the fishing boat Scinn, one of the local boats with lateen sail, motor at the back and build of wood.
He was proud of his little boat and his crew of five, who sat with their rods in the water and with nets at the ready, as the two fish traps stayed at home today: They needed fish fast, after all.
The old fisherman, his skin more like weathered leather, went to the aft of his ship to watch the boat approach. "Morning!", he called over the water, hands at his mouth to make his voice louder, startling his men. "You okay over there?!"
"Ladra's... Finnegan, turn down the racket, you startle the fish!", one of his men called, much to the amusement of the others, who laughed.

[Ilha das Tempestades]

The old boat didn't really make a lot of an impression, if one asked the Skipper of the fishing boat Scinn, one of the local boats with lateen sail, motor at the back and build of wood.
He was proud of his little boat and his crew of five, who sat with their rods in the water and with nets at the ready, as the two fish traps stayed at home today: They needed fish fast, after all.
The old fisherman, his skin more like weathered leather, went to the aft of his ship to watch the boat approach. "Morning!", he called over the water, hands at his mouth to make his voice louder, startling his men. "You okay over there?!"
"Ladra's... Finnegan, turn down the racket, you startle the fish!", one of his men called, much to the amusement of the others, who laughed.

"Ahoy there!" Ysabel called "We're travelers looking for a place to dock! " She turned the ship hard to port to navigate closer to the other fishing boat that had called to her. As a sailor, Ysabel traveled to many ports but every port had its way and its custom of how people should come in or out. "Perhaps you can confirm for us, have we reached the island of Shella?" Though Ysabel was confident they had, a skilled sailor like her how embarrassing would it be to end in a wrong port.

[Krugeristan]

Kujanaero gave the woman a slight nod. He was neither a politician nor a military officer--despite rising to lieutenant in the Krugeristani Special Forces years ago--and so he displayed submissive respect to the Selkie woman who approached him. "Good morning as well, madam." Like over sixty percent of Krugeristan, he had a Russian accent, as Russians and Euro-Americans had began mixing after Krugeristan's creation. "Help? Well, yes, I'd like to know where I'll be staying for the duration of this festival, and I'd also like to know . . . where more cultured people can stay. I'd very much like to be among people who enjoy having polite conversation rather than a bunch of drunken perverts."

The waitress grinned. "Well, first thing depends on which inn you booked - the Cé Inn, by the wharfs, the Iascairí Inn, somewhere in that..." She made a vague motion towards the city centre, smiling. "...direction or Móraí Inn, where Granny Faye rules?"
She shrugged. "Granny Faye sure takes a lot of effort to make sure, that no ruffians, perverts and such stay at her place, but I can't guarantee, that they all are into polite conversations. Some of them tend to be rather silent..." She smiled at the man, shifting her weight a bit. "For now, though, if you want to stay with cultured people and have a bite to eat, you are at the right spot here - I hope, you that you like fish?"

"I do, in fact." Kujanaero grinned a little. "Seafood is a staple in Krugeristani culture, actually. We do everything with it--bake it, fry it, grill it, biol it--you name it we have it." He held out his hand. "My name is Jakovi Kujanearo. I'm an archer from Krugeristan. Your people seem to be very friendly with our president, as well as Mr. Assad, I've heard."

[The Irish County of the Beare-Mor]

Sheila heard the Selkie speak. She approached the 2, and smiled, "And good morning to you too, lass. The trip was fine indeed. And you must be?" she said, speaking in a soft tone, with a light accent.

"I'm Mona!", the girl said with joy in her eyes and a huge, toothy grin, motioning to her companion, "And that's Amy. We are from the Mainland, near Traverse. Amy's a Priestess, you see?"
The young woman with the rust-red hair nodded. "Priestess of the Cult of Lodan Lir, yes." She motioned down at herself, where her Geansai proudly displayed the colours, "As one can easily see. If I may ask..." The Priestess nodded towards the boat which the young woman arrived on. "I don't recognize the flag - where are you from?"

"Nice to make your acquaintance." Sheila said, smiling at the 2. "I am Sheila McMillan. Of the Irish County of the Beare-Mor." Sheila said to the 2.

"I am not too knowledgable about this land, could you perhaps inform me of what the Cult of Lodan Lir is?" Sheila asked Amy.

[The Selkie]

"Ahoy there!" Ysabel called "We're travelers looking for a place to dock! " She turned the ship hard to port to navigate closer to the other fishing boat that had called to her. As a sailor, Ysabel traveled to many ports but every port had its way and its custom of how people should come in or out. "Perhaps you can confirm for us, have we reached the island of Shella?" Though Ysabel was confident they had, a skilled sailor like her how embarrassing would it be to end in a wrong port.

The skipper nodded, then called over: "Indeed it is!" He pointed to the landmass closest to them with a grin. "There you have Shella Island and Shella itself - be careful with the cliff, though, the currents can be vicious if you don't know, what you are getting yourself into!"
One of his sailors spoke up, adding: "Best keep yourself away from the Grove - see that big tree on the cliff?" Indeed, to the left of the entrance into the bay, which protected Shella from the elements, was a high cliff, at least thirty meters in height, on the top of which a tree stood, contrasting against the backdrop of the sky. "That's the Grove. Once you are on land, it's beautiful, but at sea, not so much!"

"I do, in fact." Kujanaero grinned a little. "Seafood is a staple in Krugeristani culture, actually. We do everything with it--bake it, fry it, grill it, biol it--you name it we have it." He held out his hand. "My name is Jakovi Kujanearo. I'm an archer from Krugeristan. Your people seem to be very friendly with our president, as well as Mr. Assad, I've heard."

"An archer?", the waitress said and shook his hand, "Interesting - here for the tournament, I suppose?"
She grinned a wide grin, friendly, trying to steer away from politics as this wasn't really her topic to begin with... it simply didn't struck a cord with the young woman, nothing personal, really.
"Of course you are.", she confirmed her own suspicion with a grin, not because she knew it, but because she knew, how their own sportspeople were. "Call me Faye, please. Ma'am makes me sound old..." She looked him up and down for a moment. "Wanna be my Champion today?"

"Nice to make your acquaintance." Sheila said, smiling at the 2. "I am Sheila McMillan. Of the Irish County of the Beare-Mor." Sheila said to the 2.

"I am not too knowledgable about this land, could you perhaps inform me of what the Cult of Lodan Lir is?" Sheila asked Amy.

Amy nodded. "The pleasure is ours - welcome to Shella!"
Although we aren't from this place..., she thought, looking at Mona. The girl shook her head, more interested in who would arrive next then in the long explanation as to what her Cult was. Yes, she was supposed to lead them one day, but that could wait.
Plus, Amy's eyes had spotted a more then familiar face. The young woman petted her shoulder in reassurance, then Mona shot off towards the person.
Amy smiled fondly, then turned to Sheila. "It's a long story, Miss McMillan. You see, we Selkie are pagans and Lodan Lir is one of our Gods, namely the one of Seas and Rivers and the Ruler of Mag Mell. I am one of his Priestesses, usually in Traverse and entrusted with his Envoy - Mona."

[The Irish County of the Beare-Mor]

"Nice to make your acquaintance." Sheila said, smiling at the 2. "I am Sheila McMillan. Of the Irish County of the Beare-Mor." Sheila said to the 2.

"I am not too knowledgable about this land, could you perhaps inform me of what the Cult of Lodan Lir is?" Sheila asked Amy.

Amy nodded. "The pleasure is ours - welcome to Shella!"
Although we aren't from this place..., she thought, looking at Mona. The girl shook her head, more interested in who would arrive next then in the long explanation as to what her Cult was. Yes, she was supposed to lead them one day, but that could wait.
Plus, Amy's eyes had spotted a more then familiar face. The young woman petted her shoulder in reassurance, then Mona shot off towards the person.
Amy smiled fondly, then turned to Sheila. "It's a long story, Miss McMillan. You see, we Selkie are pagans and Lodan Lir is one of our Gods, namely the one of Seas and Rivers and the Ruler of Mag Mell. I am one of his Priestesses, usually in Traverse and entrusted with his Envoy - Mona."

"Interesting. I hope to learn more about your culture while I am here. Now, as much as I'd like to continue this conversation, I'd appreciate instructions on where I could get a bit to eat? I am a little hungry, and would like to see what the Free Lands has to offer." Sheila said, smiling.

[Ilha das Tempestades]

The skipper nodded, then called over: "Indeed it is!" He pointed to the landmass closest to them with a grin. "There you have Shella Island and Shella itself - be careful with the cliff, though, the currents can be vicious if you don't know, what you are getting yourself into!"
One of his sailors spoke up, adding: "Best keep yourself away from the Grove - see that big tree on the cliff?" Indeed, to the left of the entrance into the bay, which protected Shella from the elements, was a high cliff, at least thirty meters in height, on the top of which a tree stood, contrasting against the backdrop of the sky. "That's the Grove. Once you are on land, it's beautiful, but at sea, not so much!"

"Aye aye! Thanks for the tip, I'll be sure to look out!" She carefully and swiftly navigated the waters of the harbor finding a place to dock. "Perfect."

"Skilled!" The others stood in amazement feeling a bit nervous with the fisherman warning of the perils that they'd face docking up.

"Told ya, I'm a seasoned pro. All right then time to dismount." the ladies all grabbed their bags and setting their feet down on the pier.

(ooc: hope not overstepping things by allowing myself to dock if I am I'll change the post)

[The Selkie]

"Interesting. I hope to learn more about your culture while I am here. Now, as much as I'd like to continue this conversation, I'd appreciate instructions on where I could get a bit to eat? I am a little hungry, and would like to see what the Free Lands has to offer." Sheila said, smiling.

Amy laughed. "I understand!"
She stepped close to the other woman, behind her back, facing Shella itself and pointing her arm towards one of the buildings. "That's the Town Hall. In front of it, you will find the Main Market Square, where some of the booths are, amongst those for stuff to eat. Go up the main street, right between these two warehouses..." She pointed at two low warehouses behind the quay wall, which were a bit further apart. "... and you can't miss it. I would recommend Mister Oileánach's booth, he has a good breakfast menu."
Her recommendation ended with Amy petting Sheila's shoulder. "I'd love to talk to you more later, but for now, I need to look for a Little Mudskipper! See you!"
With that, Amy was gone.

The skipper nodded, then called over: "Indeed it is!" He pointed to the landmass closest to them with a grin. "There you have Shella Island and Shella itself - be careful with the cliff, though, the currents can be vicious if you don't know, what you are getting yourself into!"
One of his sailors spoke up, adding: "Best keep yourself away from the Grove - see that big tree on the cliff?" Indeed, to the left of the entrance into the bay, which protected Shella from the elements, was a high cliff, at least thirty meters in height, on the top of which a tree stood, contrasting against the backdrop of the sky. "That's the Grove. Once you are on land, it's beautiful, but at sea, not so much!"

"Aye aye! Thanks for the tip, I'll be sure to look out!" She carefully and swiftly navigated the waters of the harbor finding a place to dock. "Perfect."

"Skilled!" The others stood in amazement feeling a bit nervous with the fisherman warning of the perils that they'd face docking up.

"Told ya, I'm a seasoned pro. All right then time to dismount." the ladies all grabbed their bags and setting their feet down on the pier.

(ooc: hope not overstepping things by allowing myself to dock if I am I'll change the post)

OOC: It's okay (actually more then that, but you get the idea).

As Amy was speaking with the nice woman from Beare-Mor, Mona had been greeted by an old friend of hers, a Captain of one of the ships present, who excused himself as he had something to arrange with his crew - indeed, SDFS Carman Fea and her crew were putting on the last touches.
Mona had been a bit sad for a moment, until she spotted the old boat coming in, skillfully avoiding the cliff and docking not too far away. The twelve years old girl went ahead and was there, when the passengers and crew grabbed their bags and went off their vessel.
She grinned widely at the foreigners, waving: "Good morning!", she called to them, "How was the trip?"

[Ilha das Tempestades]

As Amy was speaking with the nice woman from Beare-Mor, Mona had been greeted by an old friend of hers, a Captain of one of the ships present, who excused himself as he had something to arrange with his crew - indeed, SDFS Carman Fea and her crew were putting on the last touches.
Mona had been a bit sad for a moment, until she spotted the old boat coming in, skillfully avoiding the cliff and docking not too far away. The twelve years old girl went ahead and was there, when the passengers and crew grabbed their bags and went off their vessel.
She grinned widely at the foreigners, waving: "Good morning!", she called to them, "How was the trip?"

Just as Amala remembered the Selkie people were just as friendly as ever. "Oh hello there. Our trip was uuuh quite a stormy one actually." Amala rather kind of giggled and shrugged it off.

The others looked at her a bit surprised how casual it was, it was almost nonstop from the time they left IDT until sometime after leaving the Venus Sea in the last several days but even then they still ran into whatever came their way. "But otherwise it became pleasant later." Rosana added

"Well important thing is we arrived here on time." Ysabel finished off

[The Irish County of the Beare-Mor]

"Interesting. I hope to learn more about your culture while I am here. Now, as much as I'd like to continue this conversation, I'd appreciate instructions on where I could get a bit to eat? I am a little hungry, and would like to see what the Free Lands has to offer." Sheila said, smiling.

Amy laughed. "I understand!"
She stepped close to the other woman, behind her back, facing Shella itself and pointing her arm towards one of the buildings. "That's the Town Hall. In front of it, you will find the Main Market Square, where some of the booths are, amongst those for stuff to eat. Go up the main street, right between these two warehouses..." She pointed at two low warehouses behind the quay wall, which were a bit further apart. "... and you can't miss it. I would recommend Mister Oileánach's booth, he has a good breakfast menu."
Her recommendation ended with Amy petting Sheila's shoulder. "I'd love to talk to you more later, but for now, I need to look for a Little Mudskipper! See you!"
With that, Amy was gone.

Sheila began to thank Amy, but she was gone. Chucklng to herself, Sheila headed down the street, taking in the views of the town. Arriving at the booths, Sheila looked around for Oileánach's booth. Finding it, she walked over, and asked of the man, "Greetings! I have been told you serve good breakfast, yes? May I ask what it is you serve?"

[The Selkie]

As Amy was speaking with the nice woman from Beare-Mor, Mona had been greeted by an old friend of hers, a Captain of one of the ships present, who excused himself as he had something to arrange with his crew - indeed, SDFS Carman Fea and her crew were putting on the last touches.
Mona had been a bit sad for a moment, until she spotted the old boat coming in, skillfully avoiding the cliff and docking not too far away. The twelve years old girl went ahead and was there, when the passengers and crew grabbed their bags and went off their vessel.
She grinned widely at the foreigners, waving: "Good morning!", she called to them, "How was the trip?"

Just as Amala remembered the Selkie people were just as friendly as ever. "Oh hello there. Our trip was uuuh quite a stormy one actually." Amala rather kind of giggled and shrugged it off.

The others looked at her a bit surprised how casual it was, it was almost nonstop from the time they left IDT until sometime after leaving the Venus Sea in the last several days but even then they still ran into whatever came their way. "But otherwise it became pleasant later." Rosana added

"Well important thing is we arrived here on time." Ysabel finished off

Mona grinned a grin, which nearly split her face in half, so it seemed. "That you did - welcome to Shella!", she said and waved, before she looked at the first speaker again. Her grin did not vanish, but it dimmed, as she furrowed her brow. "Sorry, Miss, but..."
"Mona!", a voice suddenly called, Amy coming to her in a leisure pace, smiling. "I see, that you made new friend? I hope, that she wasn't too much of a bother?"
"Amy!", the girl whined, pouting cutely, "You know me!"
"Hence me asking..." With that, the young woman with the rust-brown hair was with them, ruffling Mona's hair, which she protested against as this messed her braid up, or so she feared. Amy looked at the boat crew. "Hello, there."

Sheila began to thank Amy, but she was gone. Chucklng to herself, Sheila headed down the street, taking in the views of the town. Arriving at the booths, Sheila looked around for Oileánach's booth. Finding it, she walked over, and asked of the man, "Greetings! I have been told you serve good breakfast, yes? May I ask what it is you serve?"

The town, built of the natural sandstone with cobbled streets, tiled roofs and pots with flowers hanging underneath the windows, the flowers still being vibrant as ever, was busy with the last preparations. It was not easy and a careless wanderer might have gotten something onto the head.
That was not the case with Sheila, either by the care of the people, luck or the will of some God or Goddess.
The square in front of the Town Hall, a small, functional building, was no exception, quite on the contrary, being the hub for the activity as many people passed here. Last nails were hammered away, first fires for cooking started as the local bakery put out its tables for those, who wished to eat, as did the Iascairí Inn's crew, who's house band was helping along where they could.
Oileánach and his booth were not hard to find, as the old baker indeed put up a sign and was already happily baking away, an apprentice greeting Sheila. "That we do, Miss, good morning!", he said, a redhead in his mid-twenties with blue eyes and freckles. "We have the full course, for the sweet tooth with battered sausages, a bit of Maith, wheat bread, butter and marmelade. For those preferring it a bit healthier, wheat bread, ham, cheese and marmelade, butter. And we could make you a salad, but that's not really a good foundation for the day. Drinks..." He looked over his shoulder, where another young man was working a machine. "Might take a few minutes. Other sweet stuff, too."

[Ilha das Tempestades]

Mona grinned a grin, which nearly split her face in half, so it seemed. "That you did - welcome to Shella!", she said and waved, before she looked at the first speaker again. Her grin did not vanish, but it dimmed, as she furrowed her brow. "Sorry, Miss, but..."
"Mona!", a voice suddenly called, Amy coming to her in a leisure pace, smiling. "I see, that you made new friend? I hope, that she wasn't too much of a bother?"
"Amy!", the girl whined, pouting cutely, "You know me!"
"Hence me asking..." With that, the young woman with the rust-brown hair was with them, ruffling Mona's hair, which she protested against as this messed her braid up, or so she feared. Amy looked at the boat crew. "Hello, there."

"No bother at all it's nice to see a friendly face after our long trip. It's nice to meet you both."

"Yeah thanks for the warm welcome."

"Thank you"

"Mhm thanks a million."

After they all took turns thanking for their warm welcome. "uuh you know where we could go grab some food? I think we're all pretty hungry"

[The Irish County of the Beare-Mor]

The town, built of the natural sandstone with cobbled streets, tiled roofs and pots with flowers hanging underneath the windows, the flowers still being vibrant as ever, was busy with the last preparations. It was not easy and a careless wanderer might have gotten something onto the head.
That was not the case with Sheila, either by the care of the people, luck or the will of some God or Goddess.
The square in front of the Town Hall, a small, functional building, was no exception, quite on the contrary, being the hub for the activity as many people passed here. Last nails were hammered away, first fires for cooking started as the local bakery put out its tables for those, who wished to eat, as did the Iascairí Inn's crew, who's house band was helping along where they could.
Oileánach and his booth were not hard to find, as the old baker indeed put up a sign and was already happily baking away, an apprentice greeting Sheila. "That we do, Miss, good morning!", he said, a redhead in his mid-twenties with blue eyes and freckles. "We have the full course, for the sweet tooth with battered sausages, a bit of Maith, wheat bread, butter and marmelade. For those preferring it a bit healthier, wheat bread, ham, cheese and marmelade, butter. And we could make you a salad, but that's not really a good foundation for the day. Drinks..." He looked over his shoulder, where another young man was working a machine. "Might take a few minutes. Other sweet stuff, too."

Sheila smiled and replied, "The full course seems nice. Not the healthy one, however. I think I can allow myself to indulge." she said, chuckling. "And waiting for drinks I don't mind too much."

[The Selkie]

Mona grinned a grin, which nearly split her face in half, so it seemed. "That you did - welcome to Shella!", she said and waved, before she looked at the first speaker again. Her grin did not vanish, but it dimmed, as she furrowed her brow. "Sorry, Miss, but..."
"Mona!", a voice suddenly called, Amy coming to her in a leisure pace, smiling. "I see, that you made new friend? I hope, that she wasn't too much of a bother?"
"Amy!", the girl whined, pouting cutely, "You know me!"
"Hence me asking..." With that, the young woman with the rust-brown hair was with them, ruffling Mona's hair, which she protested against as this messed her braid up, or so she feared. Amy looked at the boat crew. "Hello, there."

"No bother at all it's nice to see a friendly face after our long trip. It's nice to meet you both."

"Yeah thanks for the warm welcome."

"Thank you"

"Mhm thanks a million."

After they all took turns thanking for their warm welcome. "uuh you know where we could go grab some food? I think we're all pretty hungry"

Mona looked up to Amy, grinning a triumphant grin, which made Amy laugh, as she explained, pointing towards the centre of the town: "See that building? That's the Town Hall. You just need to go up the hill in a straight line, between these two warehouses..." She indicated the same as she did for Sheila. "...and you end up on the main square. You literally can't miss it. I recommend Mister Oileánach's booth, he makes wonderful breakfast!"
"And nice sweets, too!", Mona chipped in, grinning.
"And that, too.", Amy agreed, poking Mona in the side playfully.

Sheila smiled and replied, "The full course seems nice. Not the healthy one, however. I think I can allow myself to indulge." she said, chuckling. "And waiting for drinks I don't mind too much."

The redhead laughed. "Then you are more patient then I am!", he said and turned to one of the aides, "One time the normal breakfast for that beautiful Lady!"
"Understood.", the young aide said and hurried towards the fireplace.
The redhead grinning and motioned to the ale-benches being set up behind her. "Take a seat, please!", he told her with a smile, "Your breakfast will come in a bit."

[The Irish County of the Beare-Mor]

Sheila smiled and replied, "The full course seems nice. Not the healthy one, however. I think I can allow myself to indulge." she said, chuckling. "And waiting for drinks I don't mind too much."

The redhead laughed. "Then you are more patient then I am!", he said and turned to one of the aides, "One time the normal breakfast for that beautiful Lady!"
"Understood.", the young aide said and hurried towards the fireplace.
The redhead grinning and motioned to the ale-benches being set up behind her. "Take a seat, please!", he told her with a smile, "Your breakfast will come in a bit."

Sheila smiled, "One does not hunt without patience." and headed over to one of the benches, and sat down, looking around, taking in the sights and sounds of the town.

[Ilha das Tempestades]

Mona looked up to Amy, grinning a triumphant grin, which made Amy laugh, as she explained, pointing towards the centre of the town: "See that building? That's the Town Hall. You just need to go up the hill in a straight line, between these two warehouses..." She indicated the same as she did for Sheila. "...and you end up on the main square. You literally can't miss it. I recommend Mister Oileánach's booth, he makes wonderful breakfast!"
"And nice sweets, too!", Mona chipped in, grinning.
"And that, too.", Amy agreed, poking Mona in the side playfully.

"Oh thank you so very much. You've been so helpful." They thanked the two girls for their help and parted company with them to make the short walk up to Town Hall.

"People are so friendly here, you were right, Amala"

"Yeah I told you they're great here."

Once they entered the main square as they told they sought out the booth recommended to them. "Hello."

[Krugeristan]

"I do, in fact." Kujanaero grinned a little. "Seafood is a staple in Krugeristani culture, actually. We do everything with it--bake it, fry it, grill it, biol it--you name it we have it." He held out his hand. "My name is Jakovi Kujanearo. I'm an archer from Krugeristan. Your people seem to be very friendly with our president, as well as Mr. Assad, I've heard."

"An archer?", the waitress said and shook his hand, "Interesting - here for the tournament, I suppose?"
She grinned a wide grin, friendly, trying to steer away from politics as this wasn't really her topic to begin with... it simply didn't struck a cord with the young woman, nothing personal, really.
"Of course you are.", she confirmed her own suspicion with a grin, not because she knew it, but because she knew, how their own sportspeople were. "Call me Faye, please. Ma'am makes me sound old..." She looked him up and down for a moment. "Wanna be my Champion today?"

Kujanaero bit his lip, frowning. "That sounds exceptionally dirty," he said. "You have no idea how rude that is and how incredibly inhuman that was. It's disgusting how other cultures just foster the idea of pickup lines and hook-ups. Simply horrid. Put to shame, that would be. Honestly." It was clear he was not happy she said that to him. "And ma'am does not make one sound old. It's a term of polite address."

[Fascistisk State]

Shella Ferry

---

Anni Väisänen leaned against the ferry railing, staring at the rushing water below. She wore the signature blackened leather armour of a Raslåsskamp fighter. Her emblem was emblazoned on her right shoulder pauldron, a red hawk. Her fiery red hair was loosely braided in the traditional fighting style, swept behind her back. Only amateurs wore helmets during the actual fight, but she had brought a blue tuque to wear in case the weather turned cold.

The Free Lands were beautiful, certainly something to behold for a foreigner like Anni. Surely she should be looking up, at the true scenery. Why gawk at the swirling foam? Anni didn’t really know why she liked watching the water twist and dance. There was form to the currents rushing back the clean cutting ship, a sort of calming rhythm that the young Finnish woman was mesmerized by. It was clean, and it was constant, and it was pure.

She had been champion once, victor of Finland, Norway, Sweden, Syria, Cuba - everywhere there was swords to be crossed, she emerged winner. Colosseums built to house thousands, cheering crowds, recognition throughout the Union. It was what Raslåsskamp fighters lived for. Anni had been different, though. She loved the combat, not the victory. The game, not the lifestyle.

And that dreadful news broke. Väisänen - cheater. liar. The champion had built her victory on a foundation of deceit and dishonour. Thats what everyone believed, anyway. It certainly wasn't true - at least not to the extent that the public thought. They had been buying fights for Väisänen, making certain she won to ensure their products weren't smeared and all that. The least they could do was tell her about the illegal stuff, right? In complete honestly, when she thought back, she could remember some sponsors doing some shady things... They hadn't told her anything about it, but perhaps she was just turning a blind eye. They hadn't been careful about it - thats why they were caught, after all.

It didn't matter now, Now that people didn't call her a victor anymore, they called her 'Ravenstarver'. A coward.
It didn't really get to her anymore, and if it did, she certainly didn't show it.

Just thinking about her tattered career made Anni angry. She had always had a bit of a temper, burning as bright as her bright red hair.
"Anni! Have you been to the little restaurant bit on this ferry? I haven't had actual food in so long. I'm so bloody glad you're not going to another government run tournament. Do you know what this thingy is?"

Anni's best friend, Oliver Hustad, came rushing over to the railing, a Selkie pastry in his hand. He took another bite, and continued to speak with his mouth full. "This is so good.. What are you up to? Long sullen silence for the fallen angel, eh?"

Väisänen laughed softly. "Oh shut up. I'm just waiting here so that I can get off early. I like to be punctual, you know that."

Oliver nodded over dramatically and took another two bites of his pastry in rapid succession, finishing the desert.
"Oh I do know that. The Ravenstarver is very clean and orderly about her rigging of the game, isn't she?"

Anni punched him in the stomach.

Shella Docks

---

Oliver and Anni left the ferry, walking into the small fishing town of Shella. They saw other boats offloading, and plenty of natives going about their daily business.

"So, Miss Punctual, where do we go from here?" said Oliver, looking around at the village and it's people. "We should get more food, perhaps? That competition isn't starting for a while, right?"

"I suppose..." Väisänen glanced around, locating some sort of food stall that seemed to be serving people. People that were having a bit of a disagreement, as it seemed. "Right, you have money?"

Oliver patted his grey pants, removing his wallet and showing his friend freshly exchanged Selkie currency. "I got it before we went on the ferry."

The Raslåsskamp fighter nodded, and they both approached the food stall. They made sure to take a wide berth around the clearly angry man that was already being weighted, not wanting to get involved in the trouble that was brewing.

Anni walked up to the vendor, standing idly for a moment.
"So... How exactly do we order things, do you think?"