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Ah Shella. What a magical city.
Lu Gil tilted his head back, enjoying the caress of the sun upon his face. Who had it been that had told him about the citidel of yukes? One of the many faces in the bars back in one of the towns probably. Or one of those caravans he'd walked past. He couldn't remember. Species, faces, tribes... they were all the same to him. Now all he needed was some rich fool who could spare losing a few thousand gil to his tricky hands. He grinned to himself. Yukes were mostly scholars, but weren't scholars rich? And if he couldn't find any coin, he could always steal a few magical artifacts and sell them off to some gullible caravan or something. And as there is no honor among thieves, he'd had a nice breakfast courtesy of a caravan of selkies on the river. It didn't matter that they'd been surprised, he was fed and watered, and that was all he cared about. But now he had to find an ideal target... and all these yukes looked the same to him, nothing important on any of them... except perhaps the merchants... wherever they were.
Perhaps this was harder than he'd first thought.
But it had been so incredibly easy! At first the gatekeeper hadn't lowered the bridge for him, so he'd waited. And when a gaggle of yukes had come past, he slipped amidst them and entered the city unnoticed. But now there was the task of finding just the right victim... and Lu Gil was very particular about the people he chose to plunder from. He'd loved a challenge afterall. With a sigh, he took a seat on one of the bridges, watching crowds of yukes and visitors... clavats, other selkies, lilts... pass by. And then a silence seemed to fall upon the crowds. Lu Gil raised an eyebrow in confusion. What would cause such a silence? A monarch? Nobility? Some rich creature? With an eager smile, he hopped up onto the roof of one of the houses, ignoring the angry cries from the creatures outside.
A swaying form passed through the crowds, and they instantly parted for it.
"Must be pretty important then..." he muttered, smiling roguishly. He tilted his head, trying to see past the bronzed helmets of the tall birdlike creatures.
With slow, almost clumsy, almost elegant movements, a bedraggled yuke strode through the crowd. Its helm told him it was a Long beak, but there must have been something wrong with it. The fur on its neck and arms was dull and patchy, the helm tarnished with old blood. He wore dark purple, as most long beak males wore, but a scarf of spun silver was bound around his neck. He seemed much to... poor to be wearing such a fine garment. He walked as one in a dream, floating, yet his movements seemed to contradict each other, giving his gait an incredibly strange appearance. Twinkling at his throat, however, was a compact crystal. Even with it, it seemed as though he'd had an incredibly rough time with the miasma.
Lu Gil leaped from the roof of the building, and tapped a nearby yuke on the shoulder.
"Hey, mind telling me who that is?"
The other yuke seemed to have trouble tearing his gaze away from the bedraggled creature. "That's Dyango." He said simply. "Some people say he's brilliant, others say he's mad. But when he comes here... we've been instructed not to bother him. His magic excels anything we know."
"Would that we could have researched him." Another yuke sighed from nearby. "Dyango has unlocked the secret of magic that we can only hope to learn. But he's crazy... nobody would dare approach him... and nobody that has has lived."
Lu Gil looked thoughtful. "So tell me. What makes this Dyango chap seem so insane?"
The yuke glanced back up at the milling crowd. "Nobody actually knows where he came from. Some say he was born in a miasma stream and left there. Others say his mother tried to drown him in the sluice. All we know is... he's not from this city."
Lu Gil looked up as the battered yuke entered one of the buildings. "Thank you, gentlemen." He said with a bow, then disappeared into the crowd, intent on seeing this yuke for himself. He found Dyango and his silver scarf in a nearby tavern. The yuke was sitting quietly at a table, muttering to himself, a flask of strange liquid in his hand.
"Hey there." Lu Gil muttered, sitting down opposite him and gazing intently at the yuke's helm. Dyango didn't even look up.
"Selkie." He muttered. "If you're after coin you'll have to look elsewhere." His head snapped up so suddenly, Lu Gil jumped back in surprise. The iron beak was inches away from his own face. "I've heard of the great Lu Gil, aspiring thief. Raided the fields of all their apples, raided Alfritaria of their finest weapons..." The yuke pushed his helm up, and Lu Gil was surprised to see a pair of eyes gazing at him. It couldn't have been a yuke's face. Yukes had no faces. Only souls. Yet this one was gazing him down. "What will you take from Shella?" He whispered. "Will you take away their insane jewel?" His furry hand had clasped around the crystal at his neck. With horror, Lu Gil noticed the three blizzard rings that adorned his fingers. He lowered his helm again, a strange, dark aura radiating from him.
"Know your place, selkie." He growled deep and low. And then, he was gone, vanished. Lu Gil shook his head, dazed, wondering what had just happened. If what he had seen beneath that helmet was real or just an illusion...

"Hoy Dyango!"
He looked up as two lilties came dashing toward him. The female, a small elegant, immediately grabbed his arm and fussed over the state of his fur. The other, a horned helm, smiled and held out a bagful of something.
"What have we here..." he muttered, taking it and poking his iron beak inside.
"Silver, of course!" Chimed the elegant, stroking his arm. "Dya, you should really come home with us! Come visit!"
Dyango looked over at her. "Maybe..." he mumbled, looking away.
"We'll make you feel better!" She insisted, using a handkerchief to rub at the blood on his helmet. "please Dyango?"
The other lilty nodded solemnly.
Dyango looked between the two. "There's an occasion, isn't there?" His voice carried a hint of a smile.
"I'm turning 13." The elegant said charmingly. The other lilty was beaming.
"You're getting married." He said simply, tilting his head.
Both lilties blushed, the horned helm much more than the elegant.
Dyango nodded. "Congratulations." He looked down at his tattered clothing, his mangy fur, his tarnished helm. The only thing that was seemingly immaculate and spotless was the woven scarf around his neck which reflected the faint glow of his compact crystal. "I can't... go with you in this state."
"Then come back with us." The elegant purred, stroking his hand. "We can get you cleaned up at the caravan."
He nodded slowly, letting both lilties take him by his hands and lead him away.

"What's your name?"
"Dyango."
"Oh! Where are you from?"
"Veo Lu."
"What, you mean Shella?"
"No, Veo Lu."
Chakra had always tried to understand the wandering stranger who passed by his lands. The village of Yuri was on the outskirts of Daemon's court, so they were often under threat from the wandering monsters. Lizards were incredibly civilized when they wanted to be. And being so close to the miasma stream meant their caravan needed more myrrh than any other. Their village was a strange one, filled with selkies... and his family were the only yukes for miles around. And one day, the strange yuke had passed by, carrying the head of a lizard, and the pelt of a Coeurl thrown over his shoulders. When Chakra had looked again, there was only a coeurl sunning itself, toying with a few large chunks of Mythril. He had tried to chase it away, to claim the mythril for himself, but it had leapt to his feet, and only then did he see the three bangles around its paws. They were blizzard rings.
He had barely escaped back to the village with his life, frozen to his very core from the coeurl's attack. But when the caravan had gone looking for the strange and powerful coeurl, they couldn't find it. However, they did find a small pile of mythril in an old tree stump. And the next day was when Dyango had wandered into their village. He wore the coeurl pelt over his shoulders, but around his throat had been a scarf of finely woven silver. It was the envy of many of the selkies in the village, but whenever they tried to sneak up to the sleeping yuke, they found, or rather saw, another of their clansmen with the silver scarf in their arms.
And yet these selkies said they'd never taken the scarf. At one point, someone had awoken the whole village, screaming that a malboro had gotten loose.
And yet, there was no Malboro. Just a battered yuke clutching at some chunks of mythril in his sleep...
Chakra didn't know what to believe. Dyango was a mystery in every way...