Chern, 64 AP, the East Sundered Sea

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=stSV-wE2LQA

Chern leaned over the side of the swaying boat, the Godhood as it was christened, retching quietly. With one hand he held his mask free of his mouth, while with the other he tried his best to block both ears at once. Vidlans was leading the crew in shanties again.

With a stomp and a clap, the flaming pirate began to dance across the deck, performing acrobatics and impassioned choreography to the onlooker's genuine glee. It was quite a treat in Al-Sinai to see a fifth threshold flame dancer in action. Chern spared him a glance over the shoulder, then slumped once more against the wooden railing. The water slap against the hull, transfixing him with its perpetual motion. Then it came, once again. The nausea.

"Oh... Rot... ACK!"

Chern lifted his mask, and out of his mouth came a whole, perfectly ripe lemon. It fell with a plop into the water, bobbing along the surface like a nugget of gold in a stream. The god of decay watched the floating fruit as it fell behind the Godhood, feeling nostalgic.

"C'mon, Chern!" called out Vidlans. "Come dance! No way to beat a little sea sickness than to dance with the ship, let 'er sweep ye of yer feet!"

Chern turned around, taking a few staggering criss-crossed steps along the wooden boards until he collapsed on all fours. A final eye-bulging groan escaped his mouth, quickly followed by a torrent of disgorged lemons. Bright yellow citrus was sent tumbling in all direction across the deck, bouncing and rolling all the way to the opposite railing under the force of his ejection.

The music screeched to a halt, as the crew of burly Sinalese sailors gaped at the bizarre sight. Then they cheered.

"Lemons on deck!" cried one of them, a gnarled old man with an eye-patch. "Tis a good omen!"

"Arrrrr!" cried another, picking up a lemon and biting into it, skin and all. "The fortune o' the Golden Fleet guides us lads!"

The crew set upon the lemons, peeling them, squeezing them, juggling them for the sheer fun of it. Chern barely noticed. He lay curled in the fetal position upon the deck, each long, deep breath coming out with a gut-wrenching shudder. After a few moments of this he felt a sudden warmth. Arms, wrapping around him, lifting him. Warm arms.

"I must say Chern," said Vidlans as he carried the ill god below deck, "yer a queer one. But I think the crew like ye."

---

Sanctuary

"Land ho! Er... Sort of."

Some of the Godhood's crew were cleared to enter Sanctuary's gates. Not particularly common among those of the Indariel Empire, which gave them an edge when it came to trade. When they spied the floating island on the horizon, dead in the midst of the strait separating Tria from the Stricken Lands, they couldn't pass up the chance to pull in to port.

This suited Chern just fine. He'd felt the power emanating from Petr's domain. Not to mention, he was literally sick to death of life at sea.

Nerassus is standing on the shore of Sanctuary, gazing out to sea as the boat slips past the misty cloak around the island. Just a typical supply run. Already some of the local dockhands are rushing off to prepare barrels of fruit, rice, sea crackers and... they don't appear to be part of the golden fleet, but there's probably gonna be some lemons too. Nerassus his about to dip his head back into his paper when one of the visitors catches his attention. Frowning, the demigod makes his way to the edge of the pier to peer at the people in the boat.

"Chern?!"

Chern pottered queasily down the gangplank, barely discernible from among the rest of the teeming sailors and dock hands. He looked around at the mention of his name.

"Oh, hello," he said to Nerassus, belching loudly. "Pardon me."

"It is you! I've been expecting you. Although not like this." He scrunches his nose slightly at the belch. "I certainly hoped to get a missive ready before you arrived, but." He shakes his head. "Well, it doesn't matter. You're always welcome here. What brings you to us?"

"That's most kind. It's good to meet you, finally. I hear much about your exploits, they are... Good." Chern nods, as if satisfied that this is just the right word to describe the demigod's feats. "Though I did not expect to find you here. I thought I'd find you down at the Justice University."

"I've been mostly flying between the University and the Island ever since the Pearlescent Moon. Lots of day to day matters that need doing there. And. Well." He exhales deeply. "Mother's recent... exploits as well. She has woven her essence into a massive pearl in the Moon Pool. And I have the important task of figuring out how to properly explain it's powers to everyone."

"Yes..." Chern's gazed turned upward, to the distant peak of the island, where the Moonpool rests. "I felt this creation. It is a thing of grim beauty, the Pearlescent Moon. The kind of thing most mortals would rather not understand. Unfortunately, ignorance cannot be risked."

Chern looked back towards Nerassus. "Let's take a walk. I want to see this Moon for myself, but I worry that I won't know the way. Last time I was here I explored the island quite thoroughly, but that was a... Long time ago. Lead the way."

Nerassus nods and turns to gaze up at the caldera. The first few minutes where he walks is in silence. Eventually, as they begin to leave the city, he finally begins to speak. "Do you know? What happened while you were all asleep?"

"A god's sleep is a strange thing," Chern explained, "in some ways awareness is increased, as I fully become the world's decay. But the tight focus of an avatar is lost, so no. I remember nothing from my sleep." He paused. "I did see her when I woke up though."

"Did she honour you?" Nerassus's voice almost breaks as he speaks the word. "I hope she did. And... I'm glad I could be there for her during the last."

The Wiltwatcher's eyes linger on the demigod, before turning to the middle distance.

"I think so," he speculated. "She certainly honoured her own sense of style. Misty did always say she liked ruins."

It was difficult to tell, with his relentlessly oppressive demeanour and expressionless mask, but it almost sounded like this could be Chern's version of a joke. Nerassus stares silently ahead for a moment, before breaking out into a soft chuckle.

"She was quite the inspiration to me. Regardless of what she was or who she spoke with, she was always herself first and foremost. You should have seen her during the attack on Sanctuary. Even without any magic to call on, she figured out a flaw in the perfection curse and exploited that to get me here. And thanks to your gift to her. The divivice, she was able to save over a thousand souls. I counted."

Chern listened, nodding slowly.

"I may be a god with strong associations to death," he said, "but more so than her resting place, it is hearing of these things, her living deeds, that truly honour me. If anything, meeting you now, Nerassus, is her greatest honour to me of all. Petr may be your mother, but it was Misty who raised you right." Chern paused, suddenly self-conscious. "For what small, if any, hand I had in inspiring these feats in her, I am honoured. Yes."

"Yeah. I mean. Don't misunderstand me. I love Momma, and I have never felt... neglected. But Misty was the one who more than anyone treated me not like some divine avatar, but as a person. A mortal. She made me feel welcome. Which, I think, is why mother wanted me to grow up among mortals. So that I could love them the way they love me." He shakes his head. "Well. This got sappy fast... anyway, we're here." Nerassus waits for Chern to crest the final few steps, where the path up gives way to a gentle slope down into the caldera. Along one side of the lake are terrors enacting one of their daily bathing rituals. On the other side, a group of children are practicing spells that will permit them to breathe under water. And in between them, resting on a spiral of water, is the Pearl. Dull in the sunlight, with a faintly pulsating surface. Occasionally, even in sunlight, a tiny pearl parts from the massive pearl, rolling down to disappear into the MoonPool. "Mother's plan to, somehow, provide restitution to those killed by Varpier."

"Thank you, Nerassus."

Chern walked to the edge of the water, and looked upon the great pearl. A great evil had inspired the creation of this artefact. It sickened Chern more than any boat might to think how many other great evils happened outside the scope of the gods. Restitution was the best that they could do for these mortal souls now.

Spoiler: Help!
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Help Petr create an artefact

+4 decay, allowing gloral to be used to stimulate pearl replication

+1 sanitation, to help Nerassus explain to the Sanctuary dwellers the various properties of the pearl, and how they might apply to the island's infrastructure