Daladain headed out with the others on the excursion, curious to see what chaos farming actually entailed. The idea of trying to bring order to chaos was someone perplexing, but he wondered what they were up to. As he surveyed the scene in front of him he couldn't help but be drawn to the strange pyramid they named the Orthalisk. It was indeed strange looking. He turned to the fairies. "Is it safe to approach? I would love to touch it, to feel it's energy."



He raised a quizzical eyebrow at the comment. "I hope you made a good soup?"

10:56, Today: Daladain rolled 15 using 1d20+4.  Arcana.

"Oh yes, more Orthalisks in the villages along the road," Firefern says.  "The Dwarves probably have one, too."

"I don't think they need it, they have all those Dwarves," Fuffleberry says. "You know.  Dwarves.  I think if the Orthalisk could walk and talk and slurp soup it would be a Dwarf."

"It's never hurt anyone touching it.  Things with a Chaos nature..."  Firefern begins.

Fuffleberry interrupts.  "Not us.  We have a nature nature, and a faerie nature, it's different.  Better, in every way."

Firefern raises an eyebrow and continues.  "Windrazors and such, things that come from the Chaos storm, they can't stand it.  I suppose it would work against carrots and...  wait, you said carrots tried to murder you?"

"Around here they are quite passive," Petunia says softly.  "It's radishes I don't trust."

"She doesn't mean radishes try to kill you," Firefern says.

"Have you eaten them?" Petunia asks.

Fuffleberry explains:  "Well, we do get vegetables but they haven't tried to hurt anyone.  We don't know what kind we'll get next because this is a chaos farm, it blows across farmland and anything can grow.  We've had apples, artichoke, asparagus... and that's just the A's... we've never had a Q."

"We got yams last time," Petunia says.  "We have a LOT of yams."

Leysa stood up with a frown as the things the fairies said didn't quite make sense to her, "Apples? As in apple trees? What happened to the trees? And why do chaos farms only ever grow familiar crops? And only crops. Why do they never seem to spawn strange wild plants in them?" This might illuminate her understanding of these chaos waves even further.

Alison nodded and followed along the conversation. "So each village has one of these to keep the storms at bay. Very useful. It could be a way to sabotage a warring party as well...very interesting in deed."

Qui-Lin followed the tour, wanting to be out and moving, not contemplating the strange venture into the chaotic airship with the giant toad-thing and the ethereal platypii and... all that.  Musing about the rights and wrongs of the past is only useful to guide one's future actions, her master had taught her.  Long ago.  Far away.

Here in this place, everything seemed upside-down.  And she barely knew her companions.

"So the winds from this farm breed crops, and in turn, it holds chaos storms at bay?" she asked, trying to understand.

"Oh yes, apples on apple trees," Fuffleberry says.

"They wouldn't be on pear trees," Firefern explains.  "That would be strange!  But it is always some sort of crop plant in the Chaos Farms, even if we have to figure it out.  Maybe somehow the magic knows its supposed to be a farm."

"In the wilds there are different kinds of plants, brought in by the Chaos Storm," Petunia says, taking her turn with the tour.  "And we, being Fairies, of course have to go and find the important ones.  It's not easy because what comes with one Chaos Storm might go with the next, and it's dangerous out in the wilds so we don't go far or stay long.  But we can find Siffle Berries, Fizzle Berries, Feather Berries, Giggle Berries and Sparkle Berries.  Sometimes.  But this region is very rich with exotic and magical plants, that's probably why we're here."

Firefern continues.  "So the Orthalisk holds back the chaos from the Guesthouse, and the towns all have their own, some better, some not... Arcto says that regularity and ritual can help when the magic isn't strong enough, so Stonebell has their... umm.. stone bell... which they sound every hour.  He knows a lot.  But though the Chaos Storm won't hurt the Guesthouse, it reseeds and changes the Chaos Farms and they grow something new.  So it's a good place for us!  Not the stormy part.  We cant go outside during a storm.  But they don't happen every day, so we can go outside a lot!"

Petunia finishes up.  "After everything settles down from the storms, it's time to check the roads to make sure it's still safe.  The Dwarves should be here soon from their settlement.  Arcto used to organize the road check to Stonebell and even beyond, but he doesn't have anyone to do that now."

Alison moved up sidelong to Leysa and spoke quietly. "I like the way you think. You and I should work together. What say you?"

As for what happens to the plants...

They've learned over the years that whatever is left before the next Chaos Storm will just be gone.  However, the next harvest is better if the Chaos Storm can work on ready soil, so when they can, they clear it all out.

Well... not the Fairies.  They don't do heavy labor.

They do things like berry picking.

But they've learned another weird thing:  it's best to leave tilled soil, but never, ever tilled in straight lines.  Chaos abhors straight lines, and the crop will be small.

The roads, and the Orthalisk itself, have very straight lines.

"Duō luó xī, wǒmen bù zài zài kānsàsī zhōule," Qui-Lin breathed, taking it all in.

"Extremely powerful item, indeed," the gnome discussed with himself, but aloud.  "It's something of a dimensional anchor -or a planar anchor, more precisely.  I've read about some of the farther planes of existence, with their own world laws, and impacting on reality laws.  It is quite uncommon for the outer planes to impact beyond their spheres, however.  That there is such a weakening or bleed-over... hmm.  So is it truly an anchor of our world laws or footholds to permit the extension of their reality?

"Oh, most interesting visit."

Fairies look at the Gnome in wonder.

Petunia breaks the moment of silence.

"Are you a wizard?  You sound like one!"

"I've been studying - there were so very many interesting books on the practice of magic.  It's how I learned the play with water-  magic is simply amazing, amazing," he confirmed and clarified simultaneously.

Flipping one of his waterskins' cap, the gnome concentrated, and smiled as the water shot out, turning into a frozen horse that galloped gleefully about the chaotic landscape.

"This author, Torg-Grodenensen, had some simply marvelous treatises on different world laws.  Fascinating.  Direct clashes of chaotic and lawful world rules, tied and contested in the great material world in which we live.

"Interesting, interesting.  Of all the gifts of the gods, surely the giver of magic gave the greatest."

The Faeries look perplexed.

"That's a lot of words," Fuffleberry says, "and wonderful magic, but you didn't exactly say yes or no."

"Definitely wizard then," Firefern concludes.  "That's how they are.  Poke and pull and pry the universe apart to see how it works, but not a single simple answer out of any of them.  Well it's been a while since we've had a wizard here.  Arcto tried to train a few but that didn't work out.  And then he gave up.  If you're a wizard... you'll probably want to explore the land out there, maybe even explore Deluzion Break.  Wizards like to explore magical things."

"Except Arcto," Petunia says.  "He gave up."   For a moment, the little Fairy does her best to imitate an old human male voice: "I can't play those games anymore, I have a family and they need me here looking after them."

"That exploration sounds very prudent - and enjoyable.  Likewise meeting this Arcto - never too much known when it comes to learning more and more complicated spells, hmm?" the gnome agreed with Petunia, before turning back to Fuffleberry.

"Being a wizard requires training and mastering several spells and principles - I'm working on them, and have learned and been given many magics by the great gifter of magics, as are many of my people, but I wouldn't say that I've reached the level of 'wizard.'  Wandering apprentice, perhaps?  Devoted to the principles, if not trained on the executions in detail.

"Oh yes, many words.  There are many books on words as well.

"Not a wizard yet.  There you go.  Unless you consider it in being able to do magic, then it might complicate matters."

Atraxus follows the group quietly, taking in all of the sights. Every so often, the large Half-Orc glances down at his right hand---the one with which he touched the ortholisk. He opens and closes his fist, as though trying to figure out if everything is still working as intended.

"It felt warm," he muses aloud, "or at least I think it was warm. Maybe my mind was playing trixes on me."

He looks over toward Qui-Lin when she speaks an unfamiliar language.

"I'm not sure what you said," he replies, "but if you said that this is all very different, then I'm of a like mind."

He listens to the discussion between Abadon and their Faerie guides. He grins as the Faeries attempt to decipher the Gnome's erudite explanation, and their curious yet logical conclusion.

"I must admit," he chuckles, "that is probably also the most modest claim about wizardry I've ever heard, Abadon."

"Something like that," Qui-Lin replied, still trying to take it all in.  "This is like nothing I've seen."

Leysa's frown only deepened at the answers from the fairies. It was clear the chaotic being accepted what was before their eyes as fact and did not question why it was so. Leysa's mind did not work that way. The understanding of how things worked was core to her philosophy. The laws of people concerned her little in the face of the truth of existence.

Thus, Abadon's musings intrigued her more. Leysa had learned what she knew from her patron and other forest spirits. Learning from books sounded even more wonderful. And the thought of books about words almost had her salivating. She was about to approach the gnome when another female whispered to her.

She blinked at the woman, her concentration broken in a discomfiting way, "That would depend on the goal and the methods, I suspect. Still, comrades or allies are neither bad things to acquire."

Her train of thought broken, she directed another query at the fairies, "So, in the space of... how many days? How many days for an apple tree to grow, flower, develop fruit? Do they always manage before the next wave or are immature Apple tree sometimes whisked away? HAs anyone tried to transplant such a tree out of the farm before?"

"It would be better if you talked to Arcto about these things," Firefern tells Leysa.  He knows these things, counting of things, hows and whys, these are not things Fairy folk are good with.  Humans and Dwarves are better."

"We're better with real things," Fuffleberry says.

"Fun and adventures and things like that," Petunia adds.  "Poking at things is not our way.  But yes, the Chaos farms grow quickly, and fruit usually comes before the next storm, but with the next storm, it starts over again.  There are a dozen chaos farms in this land, they are famous, and without that... well I think without the prosperity of the farms people would never have settled..."

"A string of villages along a road and some llamas, barely settled," Firefern interrupts.

"Well it would be less.. less nice without the settlements," Petunia says.  "Hey... we have a wizard now.. and the others got onto that airship and back... we could go down into the Break and explore and bring back berries and..."

"Petunia, I'm sure they aren't the type to plunge into crazy things," Firefern says.

Atraxus chortles when the Faeries mention whether or not the group would be willing to plunge into "crazy things."

"Given the very nature of this place," the Half-Orc says with a laugh, "I doubt there is very little here that doesn't involve something crazy. I can only speak for myself, but I would be interested in seeing more of the Break. We have numbers, and I can vouch for Daladain's and Qui-Lin's mettle."

I think that there's a unique charm
right here within the chaos farm,
But I might be somewhat hazy
thinking there is more that's crazy.

She glanced back at Lysander and her eyes narrowed. She spoke again to Leysa, "Is he always like this?" She seemed exasperated, "I mean as a performance I understand him doing it, but now, unless he is always performing?"

Leysa looked to the new, strange woman and nodded, "Always performing. It has its charm once you are used to it." She returned a frustrated look to the fairies and coughed indignantly. The Hows and Whys were reality. Math was at the core of reality. Frowning, she huffed and then followed up, "Fine, and where is this wizard then? Not the gnomish one. The other one... er, Arcto?"

She blanched at the mention of adventures and craziness, "What's the point? Exploring for the sake of exploration?" She wouldn't have put such illogical nonsense past the fairies, but she suspected she was not too wrong.

Anything worth saying,
is worth saying in rhyme,
it only takes some practice
and a little bit of time.

Smiling in a tight lipped way Alison turned to Lysander, "I wasn't speaking to you. When I am speaking to you, you will know it because I will be looing at you. Consequently, if you do not see me looking at you, you know I am not speaking to you and do not wish to hear your voice."

Intimidation Check?

If you don't want to hear my voice,
it's up to you to make that choice;
But if you want to shut me up,
Just put a gold piece in the cup.

Lysander holds out a small drinking mug.