Entry tags:
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❪ introlog: #6 ❫ city of secrets
You've spent the last few days on Thesa Station, taking in the knowledge that your world is no more. Now, the time to put all your survival training into practice has arrived: El Nysa needs you, and you're here to help the planet thrive. Are you ready?
THE DESCENT All refugees on the station are called to the hangar, where a large-scale teleporter awaits. Simply step onto the space between the arrays and wait; everyone will be sent down to the planet together. Before they depart, all refugees will be given a cold weather survival kit with warm clothing, rations, and bedding.
The arrays build into a brilliant wash of light, creating a column that travels all the way from Thesa Station to the surface of El Nysa, teleporting the refugees to the planet on an aurora. Once on the planet's surface, refugees receive one last message from Darma. It has been a long, perilous year for you, refugees. And yet we must ask you to brave further peril. Within Nadril are the secrets to how poor Ysverai's revival was hidden from our sight and how this disaster has come to our star. Find the first refugee from beyond this planet, a man named Magda. He will not speak to us, for much has come between us, but to you… If you prove yourselves, he may be willing to answer your questions. We beseech you, for there is a veil over Nadril that hides all within from us. There may yet be more untold dangers waiting to befall this planet. For the good of all who make this world home, we ask you to lend us your aid. There is yet one more favor we would ask of you. In warding off the Storm's encroachment, the physical aspect of ourselves that you call Thesa Station was damaged. We must remain to continue repairs to El Nysa and to deal with Ysverai, but there should be suitable technology within Nadril that could be used for spare parts. If you have the chance to find it and can return it to us, it would hasten— Darma's message crackles with static, another image overlaying hers — her broadcast is cut off and replaced with another. A more sullen and alien voice takes Darma’s place, overlapping on itself in an ominous reveal. It has been a long, perilous year for you, refugees. And yet you’ve only just arrived here. To say I’m not disappointed in your… generation would be to lie, and I am nothing if not an honest creature. But I suppose these have been unusual circumstances. You must ask yourself this — are you only here as Darma's lapdogs? I can assure you, it's not worth being on the Natha's leash. With time, that will be something you'll have to learn for yourself. If you're so determined to come find Nadril, then follow the path north, and you'll find the border. What awaits you is revelation, if you're up to the challenge. A FROZEN LAND ![]()
The refugees land on a literally frozen world, both in temperature and time. Curls of icy wind hold swirls of snow aloft and an uncanny silence is broken only by the crunch of hoarfrost underfoot. Only Darma's protection allows the refugees to move through this frozen world — and movement is very necessary. Bitter cold sneaks through even the thickest clothing and without warning, a snowstorm rises: unnaturally quickly, a wall of white howls directly in the refugee's path. Bizarrely, the way back is perfectly calm; it's obvious that this storm is no product of nature.
Magda's challenge becomes clear: the only way to Nadril lies through this storm. Visibility within the storm is near zero, the whiteout hiding any landmarks from view and making navigation near impossible. The only guidance refugees have is a sporadic path of faint, greenish lights, easily lost in the raging storm. Refugees need all the survival skills they practiced on Thesa Station to survive, for getting lost alone is a death sentence. Luckily, those separated from the group can happen upon guiding lights Magda has planted throughout the tundra. These blue-white sparks cause frostbite if handled recklessly, but they also serve as directional anchors, turning into ghostly flames that lead lost souls back to the path to Nadril. The trek through the storm will be no mean feat and will last for the better part of three days. By the time the refugees reach Nadril's gate, most will find themselves exhausted and running on fumes. As the snowstorm dies away and a gap in the glittering forcefield around the city opens to usher the refugees inside, it's clear that Nadril is a different beast. A WARM(?) WELCOME ![]()
I. Despite the unforgiving journey, entering Nadril is painless. Once inside, characters will be greeted by their predecessors: the original refugees who made this advanced city. They'll immediately be offered medical attention, as well as warm cider and blankets. But it's obvious that the Nadril citizens prefer higher tech to fend off the weather: they also offer wristlets and ear cuffs that that double as mittens and earmuffs by creating warm bubbles of air. The earrings also feature a few quality of life programs, such as timed alarms and thought-to-speech messaging. However, both programs are in beta stages so it's not unusual for a stray thought to accidentally slip through or an alarm to accidentally ring at an inopportune time.
II. Refugees are offered free lodging in a large, crystalline building crafted from ice. Despite the coarse building material, the ice is unmelting and surprisingly well-insulated, and the beds are as warm and cozy. The rooms are, however, small. The sleeping quarters house two people, and are some cross between an igloo and a capsule hotel. Though built for efficiency over comfort, all rooms are also outfitted with the latest Nadril AI, RoboAlfred, or Ralf for short. This helpful program is installed in practically all the furnishings: the closet tells guests to bundle up, the bathroom sink reminds them to brush their teeth, and the mirror offers helpful fashion tips. Ralf's personality matrix still needs polish, though: it may very well insult your clothes and passively-aggressively question your lifestyle choices for the entire stay. III. Though not as advanced as Thesa Station, the colony has technology far beyond the rest of the continent, such as rudimentary AIs and mechanical transportation. Nadril's skyline is a point of pride — refugees can take a (literal) lightrail that gives an aerial view of the colony, which is hewn almost entirely from ice and rock. Despite its tech, Nadril is much more sparsely populated than Olympia and Wyver, and its residents stay near a central hub: a Natha refugee drop ship, Central, which has crashed and long embedded itself into the earth. Central is similar to an older, smaller, grounded model of Thesa Station, in functional order with round-the-clock solar power. Within Central are lounges similar to ones on the Station, though many of the damaged areas have been converted. They include repair stations, different wings dedicated to science, botany, astrology, and mechanics, and a research and history facility, which has a smattering of technology from planets beyond El Nysa — including your own. The staff here don't mind if anything is sampled and studied, but objects cannot be taken from the labs. IV. On the outskirts of the central hub, many will find several curious looking bots with insect-like wings perched about high traffic walkways. Simply passing the bots will cause a dizzying flash before a series of photos print out. Upon closer inspection, people will find that these images reflect stills taken from their home worlds as they remember it. Unfortunately, these photos only last a couple of hours at best. At that time, they will revert back to regular pictures of the refugees. People will be encouraged to share these images of their worlds. The residents of Nadril comprehend the value of remembering one's origins, and will be pleased to see that people still hold memories of old homes close to them. RECREATION IN NADRIL ![]()
I. Small, mechanical creatures scampering through the city are a common sight. Ask anyone, and they’ll tell you that they come from a shop called Paws About Town. They’re very useful, as companions, gophers, and couriers (though the more mischievous will note that they’re just small enough to keep tabs on people without being noticed).
Premade robotic pets are available on display inside the shop. They come in all shapes, but small sizes; one may be able to find robots that even look like miniature creatures from their homeworld. These are a part of a new, highly customizable line with programmable personalities. Customers have the chance to take pets for a one-day trial run. Those who don’t know how to program may want to enlist more knowledgeable aid, but the pets come with instructional pamphlets for basic personality traits such as obedience, helpfulness, playfulness, and bloodthirst. For returns, the switch to wipe the robot's personality to a blank slate is on the back of its neck, right between a switch to invert all traits, and a switch to have them learn by observing. Try not to press the wrong switch — you might wind up with a pet with a mind of its own! II. A. The Frosty Tap Cantina is a thriving hub of activity, but one of the major draws is the self-service bar: molecular mixology is wildly popular here. Playing with drink compositions can be a game in and of itself, and newcomers to the cantina will find that the bartender — a cheerful woman with lilac skin and three eyes — is always happy to give them a few tips on how to use the wide array of tools within reach of the barstools. All manner of drinks are possible — from glowing, layered cocktails, to clear drinks with colored, spherical bubbles and vividly-colored shots that give off their own smoke. There's a nightly contest in the cantina for the most creative drink created by a team — this may be as good a time as any to partner up with someone and see what can you come up with. Winner gets all their drinks for the night free! And, hey, even if you don't win, you get to drink whatever you make. The well-lubricated patrons of the bar are eager to challenge anyone nearby to a different sort of drinking game… Just how well can you hold your liquor? B. Holo-screens in the cantina are nearly always broadcasting some match or another of a game that looks very much like hockey, albeit played with sticks that light up and a puck that changes shape from time to time. Colonists here merely refer to the game as "the sport," and one of their favored pastimes is betting. However, they don't use currency — they wager dares. Nadril colonists are a tough, weathered lot, and they prefer to speak with actions over silver. Colonists will urge the refugees to take part as well. Common dares range from the ridiculous (lead a sing-a-long, attempt to make someone with a poker face smile) to the suggestive (kiss the person in the cantina you find most attractive, strip off a piece of clothing), to the outright reckless (venture out into the snow for a certain amount of time, and no one will judge if you find some company to keep warm). The colonists are unfazed by even the most insane or tawdry of dares — but you'll certainly be called a killjoy for refusing too often! Why not grab a friend and give it a whirl, or challenge a rival to a dare yourself? THE MISSION ![]()
I. On the outskirts of Nadril is the communications tower of the old refugees. This is where Magda resides, monitoring Nadril's technological protections, the extent of the Natha’s influence, and running his own personal projects for El Nysa’s technological advancement. It is isolated, filled with research labs and relics of the past refugees who have come to El Nysa — a living mausoleum of worlds swallowed up by the Storm whose peoples have refused to forget where they came from.
Crew photos line the walls of the tower: pictures of alien families and friends, the refugees who came to Nadril before you. Each group of photos gradually becomes smaller in number, and the most recent of the pictures are from half a century ago. Magda's picture can be found among the first group of refugees, an unusually small cluster of photos dating back centuries in El Nysa's past. I have been on this planet for nearly two centuries. Life has come, evolved, and collided in an ever expanding culture. But Darma fears interference, and made this place a prison, with she our warden, stifling the growth of the creatures native to this world rather than encouraging them to flourish. She sent you here for answers in her stead because she knows I'll spurn her, and after seeing what that fool Raysc has wrought, I'll give you them — not for Darma's sake, but because I trust after all the Natha have done to you, you'll understand my decision. Mistakes were made, and I won't hide them. You've made it here so there's some mettle to you, and unlike the Orbiters, I'm not interested in hiding the secrets of the dangers we face. I gave Raysc what he needed to keep his actions hidden from Darma's eyes — what he needed to advance the primitive magics the Natha had doomed him to. It was old Natha tech, Darma's very own used against her. Hilarious, isn't it? Raysc learned of Nadril, and like you, braved the snow to find his way here. He proved his worth and his determination, and he spoke of a brighter future, El Nysa coming into its own, its people realizing their true potential, unhindered by the shackles that had been put upon them. I believed him. He had vision — or so I thought. In truth, he was a fool. A madman. He wasted the opportunity I gave him on his petty vengeance. But not everyone on this planet is such an idiot. Surely you lot aren't. The Natha are hiding things from us — about the Storm, about everything. And here in Nadril, we're going to find all those secrets. What's it going to be? Will you help us, or are you going to stay obedient dogs on Darma's leash? Magda isn't too talkative yet; after all, the new flock of refugees may just be here as eyes and ears for the Orbiters. But what he has said leaves you with plenty to talk about, and if you can earn his trust by helping out around Nadril, he doubtless has a great deal more to reveal. II. Central isn't the only Natha ship that made its way to El Nysa — another, crashed just outside Nadril's borders, is little more than a junk heap. It's here that you'll find the spare parts Darma asked you to retrieve for Thesa Station. What remains of the ship's hull serves as a windbreak, and snow has built up against it, turning the piles of old Natha tech inside into something of a snowy morass. Holes in the deck offer would-be scavengers passage to the ship's innards, barely illuminated with flickering lights — the tech is old, but hardy enough to withstand a crash landing, the severe weather, and the passage of centuries. Deep in the wreck are the remains of living quarters, research labs, VR arenas, mecha bays, cafeterias, and a host of other rooms, many of which may seem familiar from Thesa Station, albeit with a decidedly older feel to what remains of the smooth curves and sleek surfaces of the Natha architecture. Most of the ship's systems are damaged and the technology is nonfunctional, but that just means there's plenty of spare parts to be found. The wreck isn't in the best shape, its structural integrity damaged, and the drifting snow threatens to block off exit routes. Be careful while exploring and be sure to bring a partner. As it turns out, Darma isn't the only one interested in the wreck — Magda is also eager to get his hands on Natha technology. In his own way of taking some responsibility for Raysc, he's asking scavengers to bring him parts, muttering about seeing what he can do about Ysverai's curse. Bring him anything that looks useful, and he may have a chance to succeed, though whether he'll be more effective than the Natha Orbiters is up for debate... FINAL OOC NOTES
An AC-eligible thread with a new character as a participant for 2 NADRIL REP POINTS may be submitted from this log. SUBMIT THE THREAD HERE BY AUGUST 5TH, 11:59 PM EST.
As always, feel free to create your own prompts and explore the Nadril location page! There are a variety of activities made available, including fishing and cave exploration! Please direct questions to the questions thread below! Thank you! |
Krile Baldesion | FFXIV
[A]
[She ought to have known the full implication of what Darma meant for them to do when she started referring to the planet as "our star". That phrase walks hand in hand with hardship. Krile, while pleased to receive winter survival gear properly matched to her stature, finds a very real and constant struggle on the planet that few others face: the drifts are waist-high at minimum, and the force of the driving wind can stall her in her tracks, especially with all the extra weight of the pack she's carrying. She does everything she can to stay with the group and stick to the path. When the refugees set up camp, she has a confident smile to offer and a fair bit of healing for any faces or hands suffering frostnip. They'll get through it all right.
They are not far from Nadril - not that it's possible to tell in this relentless snow - when her strength gives way. Krile stops, puzzled by the shapes of those around her blurring and going all barely-visible. For just a moment she stops feeling the cold. That's odd. Her feet are still moving through...
Then she topples gently over.]
[B]
[No matter how much she wants to dig in to the mission of discovering all there is to learn about Nadril, after her personal disaster in the snow, Krile could use some time to get her energy back. That leaves her, newly sporting both a set of wristlets and a matching ear cuff, bundled up in blankets in an empty bedroom. Apparently this is to serve as their living quarters while they are here.
And it doesn't stay empty for long, because someone comes through the door just as she's pondering whether she feels up to some exploring after all.]
Oh? [Unless it's one of her friends with more hot cider, she wasn't expecting any company.] Are you sure this is the room you're after?
[Meanwhile, a voice near said door intones, Please kindly knock before entering.]
--
[Exploration]
[Back on her feet and ready to get to work, Krile finds herself immediately drawn to the abandoned and repurposed halls of Central. She spends probably too much time in the slow study of their dedication to science, to disparate technology, to the passing of the stars.
A familiar blue glow on her periphery calls her to turn, and what she sees there nearly knocks her over for the second time in as many days. An aethernet shard, complete with the calming float and metal framework keeping it in place, all lit and spinning as if it had somewhere to connect. Krile swallows very hard. A glance around reveals no one close enough to stop her from reaching for it. Trying to attune, one hand outstretched, aether breaching the distance between her hand and the stone...and nothing else changing at all.
The idle, smooth nose wiggles and tail twitches of a mechanical squirrel atop her hood might draw more attention than her rapt and despairing silence.]
--
[The Mission]
[She knows better than to dare go delving for parts without a partner. For one thing, she'd have a hard time bringing back anything sizable on her own, and for another one simply does not venture forth into a frigid clime alone. Gods, they barely all made it together. Leaving the surprisingly friendly borders of the city behind, Krile and her tundra buddy make their way to the other crash site.
Some rudimentary fiddling with unbroken screens and wires turns up nothing. The power source is gone. But they can salvage whole parts regardless, can they not?
She's in much better spirits with the jewelry to warm her hands and face while she works at unbolting the panel over the base of a long-dead information screen.]
I don't suppose we managed to bring a better tool for this?
--
[Wildcard/Other]
[Any of the other things you'd like? She'd definitely also explore the lake and underground gardens mentioned in the Nadril Info stuff! Krile is itching to talk to or about Magda, what he's said and what he might stand for; she doesn't have much in the way of allegiance to either side, and she is well aware of the kind of leverage the Natha have over all these refugees...]
exploration
He watches Krile slowly reach out with the smallest sliver of hope that so quickly gutters and dies when naught comes of her efforts. He walks up to kneel next to her, a comforting hand on her shoulder. ]
‘Tis but a relic now.
[ Much like them. ]
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Is there any way to save face here?]
If there were two of them, perhaps something useful could come of it.
[Even she can't hide how crushed she is over...over nothing. Nothing at all. It didn't even twinkle in response.]
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Mayhap. I wonder if this means there were those from Hydaelyn among the early refugees.
[ Certainly, they wouldn’t know a Hyur, or distant relative thereof, just by looking, but mayhap there are others who carry the blood of the other races in their veins. ]
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Perhaps it is because she is so entranced that she lets free words she would not have otherwise.]
My last memory of...we were working to re-initiate the aethernet on...o-on an island.
[Recalling exactly what that island was, the purpose for her expedition, seems to crush her just a bit further and shake her out of her reverie at once. She takes a fast, stiff breath.]
But it doesn't make much sense either way. We don't have- artifacts of any sort. Unless Alphinaud woke up with a functioning crystal array in his pocket.
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[ The grief is plain on her face. No matter how long they’re here, or how familiar with this place they become, that horrible pang of loss is but a moment away at any time. All it takes is an errant thought, a glimpse of the familiar, and it strikes so much like a snake in the grass. He’s felt it himself many times in the ten moons since he woke to that terrible news, so his heart goes out to her. ]
… ‘Tis possible it is a recreation, a replica built by memory, or the rules may have been different for those that came long before us.
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Krile glances aside. Looking at the aetheryte is difficult, but more than that, she needs to think. After a moment she paces away from it, and then back, all the while watching the nearby floor. Thoughts take a bit of time to solidify when they come as a barrage.]
You mean to suggest that some of the original refugees, brought here by the Natha, are - or were - of Hydaelyn?
[This is a leading question, X'rhun. There will be more.]
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[a] warmish weclome
She doesn't fall, luckily, but she does swear thinking someone must have dropped something.
Apparently not.]
Krile? Is that you? Are you all right?
[Then she does drop, trying to hoist her upright.]
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Krile is as stubborn as they come, though, and someone is swearing at her? Which is due at least a dirty look back.
She is so cold and exhausted as to not realize it's taking her an unusually long time to respond. Fortunately for Claire she isn't that heavy, even wrapped in excellent winter gear; unfortunately, at the moment, she is largely dead weight trying to keep its eyes open.]
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Krile? Krile, it's Claire. Say something for me.
[She gives her a gentle shake.]
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A friend's very worried face comes into focus before hers.]
What?
[Likely not the "something" Claire wanted to hear, and it is groggy as all hells. Krile frowns - meaning her eyes narrow and her brows draw together, though rest assured she looks very cross.]
The wind...must have pushed me...
[It wouldn't be the first time. She doesn't sound like she's still fading, though. Rather, she is looking for a good explanation that has nothing at all to do with any foolishness on her part.]
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I wouldn't doubt it.
[After she turned to ice, the wind probably knocked her down. That's the more likely story. Claire sighs, glancing around them at the height of the snow.]
I could carry you. We have to keep going. We're almost there.
[So people have been saying.]
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[And this morning that was true.
Right now she's leaning into Claire's hold on her without even realizing it. The cold is secondary to how much the effort of pushing on through the elements has worn her down, but sheer exhaustion leaves her unable to warm herself back up effectively.
Krile rubs her eyes with one gloved hand and tries to stiffen her shoulders.]
I think they've been saying "almost there" for days.
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[a] warmish welcome!!
So he rushes to her side, moving his hands to her shoulders to bring her up a bit, at least to her knees.
He sounds pretty distressed here, as he's wont to be when he can't control his emotions towards his friends. ]
K-Krile! Krile!
[ He's shivering and that's making his speech a little weaker than it should be but please be okay please open your eyes, friend. ]
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She'd be glad to know he was still nearby, even when she couldn't tell one person from another in the blizzard.
At the sound of her name she stirs but little, trying to open her eyes. A half-mumbled "Alphinaud?" makes it free of the scarf, somehow.]
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He breathes a breath of somewhat relief when she says his name, and he sees her eyes open. ]
A-Aye. Hold on, Krile.
[ He'll go ahead and take his jacket off with one hand while holding onto her with the other, before situating it around her in a sort of shield-like way. To keep the incoming snow from flying into her face anymore and hopefully help her warm up a little. He'll do his best to deal with the cold for now, despite his increased weakness to it thanks to what he's been through in it.
Really all that matters is his friend doesn't lose her life to the cold right now!! Weh. ]
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She does realize that Alphinaud removing his coat in these conditions is tantamount to freezing himself. Krile will not have that. She tries to push it away, shaking her head as much as she can without dizzying herself further.]
I'm all right. [The snow in her face doesn't help but the winter gear from the station has done wonders at keeping her warm.
When she looks at him, though, her eyes are rather unfocused even as she tries to frown at him and lecture.]
You'll freeze. Don't...be reckless.
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Y-You are far from all right. P-Please ... just allow yourself a few moments to recover. I shan't freeze so e-easily.
[ Actually he might but that is of no concern!! He's going to put his coat around her regardless of how much she fights. Just take a few moments to recover your senses and get back on your feet, okay!! ]
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So. Trapped, as it were, between Alphinaud and his coat, Krile holds onto his arm - still in protest - with one hand and rubs her eyes with the other.]
I'm only tired. [Not cold. And not the dangerous sort of not-cold that leads one to faster freezing, either.]
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warmish welcome b, with a slice of wildcard
Hey, Krile! Thought you could use some—
[ But "Ralf" interrupts him, chiding his manners, and he winces sheepishly. ]
S-sorry. Is this a good time?
[ He gestures with the mug of cider. ]
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[She's happy to see Prompto, just for himself, and extra delighted by the hot cider in his hands. Probably he isn't about to become her roommate, though, he's got someone for that.]
I'm much more myself by now, but I can't say no to staying a bit warmer regardless.
[And it is kind of him to think of her, even if he fusses in a manner so like to Alphinaud that she can't believe they aren't related by blood after all. Krile shakes herself free of the blanket around her shoulders so her hands are unburdened, to take the cider from him.]
Are the others faring all right?
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He pulls over a chair to sit, smiling warmly. ]
Yeah, they're fine. Y'know, whining about the cold a bit, but they'll tough it out.
[ He leaves out the part about how he's the one who has been whining about the cold the most. ]
I'm just glad we all made it in one piece.
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[She's glad, too. For that last stretch when she lost herself, and in the care of their hosts afterward when her friends where nowhere to be found - and after what happened when they were separated the last time - she has been worried about all of them equally in turn.
So even though Prompto is undoubtedly their loudest complainer by a long shot, his report is more than satisfactory. Krile picks up her cider and sips it, sighing.]
I'm starting to think I'll not be entirely warm again even in the middle of Wyver.
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Heh, no kiddin'! I'd welcome that walking-through-water feeling of the jungle right now. [ Buuut admittedly, he'd be asking for a fan a short while later. ] You more of a warm or a cold climate person, Krile?
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[Perhaps it's still the bone weariness and cold addling her, but she finds it sweet of Promoto to...stay. To keep her company, rather than depositing the cider and being on his way.]
If only the two, I'll take a warm climate. It's much harder for warm weather to endanger your life.
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