[Celestial Arms Quest]A Needle in Hay

[viso]

Viso was a bit late to the coastline compared to everyone else. He had stopped to drop off his easel, picking up a few things along the way. Even with the rods, this was not going to be a walk in the park. With the half-scale project, everything was smaller, but there was still plenty of coast to cover. Even with the dozens of adventurers, maybe even hundreds. The pieces could have washed up anywhere along the coast, perhaps even buried so deep in the sand that the wands wouldn't pick it up. They could be out here for weeks, and not turn up anything. It wasn't like this was a game anymore. There was no programmer out there making sure that these quests were passable. Game, real, it was all blending together, and failure was an option.



His staff was strapped to his back, so that he could hold onto the wand. He'd idly open up the description, the green screens appearing in his vision.



“Dowsing Rod



Created by the Messier Sage, this rod was made to search for the missing pieces to the tablet discovered along the Thame Coastline. It will start to glow when in the proximity of one of the pieces.”



The werecat would close the menu, before looking about. There wasn't much organization to this, so there were likely spots missed, or perhaps checked after more than once. Likely the areas closest to the city were scoured pretty thoroughly. So if he wanted to get somewhere with this, he should head out a little further. He could see dots of people moving across the landscape, and he picked the direction where he could see less of them out and about. His toes would splay out in the sand as he walked, his gait a little awkward. He'd hold the rod out with one hand, sweeping it back and forth as he moved. Frankly, this seemed rather ridiculous. But... it would be rather nice to find something...

Word Count: 332

[viso]

It went pretty much as Viso was expecting, spending hours waving the rod across the beach. Frankly, he couldn't even be sure if the item would work. Was that something that could happen. The werecat was meticulous, keeping pretty close lines so he hopefully wouldn't miss anything. The hours would slowly drag on, and it was coming to the point where one stretch of sand would look like the other. Though, he did manage to find a few interesting tidbits, mainly shells and sea dollars, but he occasionally managed to find an interesting bit of driftwood. Whenever he found something of the sort, he would pick it up, brush off the sand that clung to the object, before slipping it into his bag. Anything really that caught his eye, that he might want to use in a project later. His room was cluttered with such small objects that he found appealing.

Viso was getting rather tired though, and hungry as well. He'd passed a few other loners, and they would exchange some information on where had been checked, but beside that, he'd kept mostly to himself. He found a nice spot on the beach, which would probably be the same fifty feet in any direction. He'd take a seat in the sand, right above the water line. He could deal with some sand in his clothes, but getting salt water in his fur would just be a pain. His legs would sprawl out unceremoniously in front of him, toes wiggling a little. He'd pull his bag up into his lap, digging through his finds to get at his lunch. He'd pull out the paper package, which crinkled as he unwrapped it to reveal a sandwich. Nothing special, just some meat, cheese, lettuce, and mayo. He'd take a measured bite of it, chewing slowly as he stared out across the water. Watching the waves roll upward, soaking the sand in front of him. They'd froth as they reached the end, stretching up toward him before retreating with a soft woosh.

The werecat would sit there, eating his sandwich, wrapped inside of his own mind like the sandwich had been wrapped in paper.. When he was alone, he often delved into his thoughts, working and picking at them, or something that had happened. Like the Sage, specifically what he'd said at first. The world, at a time of crisis, shall welcome the brave to the land. Such a strange thing to say. Did they think that the adventurers were these brave ones? That was a bit of a laugh. It was easy to be brave when one couldn't die. To run over and over again into the same situations, just because you knew that there was that net waiting to catch you when you inevitably failed. Just a few short minutes later, and you were back at the cathedral. Brave? What a joke. He'd shove the rest of his sandwich into his muzzle, chewing hastily on it as he balled up the wrapping to shove it back into his bag, standing up quickly. He'd brush the sand off his trousers, before pulling the rod back out. A little 'work' to take his mind off of things.

Word Count: 532