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average_token_length float64 10 5.36k	timestamp stringlengths 10 10	type stringclasses 2 values	conversations listlengths 3 1k	median_token_length float64 7 2.92k	token_length int64 32 100k
136.971564	1776-07-04	GuildPublicThread	[ { "author": "Dado", "message": "Dado exits the Mysterious Tower, \"Utility Magic and You, 5th Edition\" In hand. After previously setting a rug on fire, he's resolved to only practice magic outdoors.\n\nHe flips to the Table of Contents. Blizzard? Ice magic? That seems like it could be useful.\n\nHe flips to the Blizzard page, then starts reading." }, { "author": "Xion Kirisame", "message": "A Keyblade portal opens in the air off the floating island, close to ground level as Xion emerges in... Can that actually be called Keyblade armor? It exposes so much... Well her own magic is run through the armor to cover what isn't covered by clothing. As soon as she's out, she dispels the armor and returns to her standard black and grey jacket, three quarter length pants and a white t shirt to avoid triggering any potential intruder defenses that may or may not be in place. She didn't exactly KNOW if they would target her being signature or her lack of face or what but she wasn't risking it. She slowly, almost cautiously floats up to the tower and then over to Dado \"Oh... You're here too... Guess I should've figured you'd be here. It did seem to be your favorite place... It feels so... Empty... So... Still... Without Master Mod around... I guess I'm mostly surprised this place didn't exist solely because of her...\"" }, { "author": "Dado", "message": "\"Xion? What-\" He frowns. She knowingly worked with an evil organization. Which, he might add, just attacked Sir Icidro and his friends.\n\nHe sets the book down, then stands up. \"Any progress on the scientist lady?\"" }, { "author": "Xion Kirisame", "message": "Xion shakes her head \"No. It feels like I should know something about her but the information just... Isn't there. I've been trying to go over what I know and it feels like I'm missing a chunk of information I should know. Things you think I would know. Their base of operations. Their leader. How at least One of them Fights. But no. Nothing... I don't get why though. As I already stated, I Should Know this stuff.\"" }, { "author": "Dado", "message": "Dado doesn't believe her. He'd have to be gullible as all hell to fall for an excuse like that. She's probably withholding information.\n\n\"Why are you here, then? Master Aria doesn't trust you. I don't think Master Mod would either, if she knew. Wait. Did She know? Was she hiding that, too?\" He looks wary." }, { "author": "Xion Kirisame", "message": "\"I don't know what Master Mod knew. She may have known or she may not have. I'm here to borrow the library. I realized during the fight with Maleficent that I couldn't do much when she shut down my magical options. I felt useless. I came to study support magic. I figured that if anywhere would have a library comtaining vast stores of magical books, it would be here.\"" }, { "author": "Dado", "message": "Dado stares at her. Isn't she supposed to be an experienced mage? How does she not know this stuff?\n\nWhen he thinks harder, however, he fails to recall a single time she's used any sort of support magic. She's only ever hit things really, really hard.\n\nIf she is indeed a traitor, helping her will only make beating her harder later...\n\nBut...\n\n\"Knowledge should be free.\" Dado picks up the book, then holds it out to Xion. \"This book has healing magic and other support magic in it. I can't let you in, but I can at least help you with this.\"\n\nHe considers handing over Mod's letter as well, but... If she is still working with Organization XIII, the information in there would be too valuable. It exposes a critical, exploitable weakness. He can't divulge that." }, { "author": "Xion Kirisame", "message": "\"Dado, they literally tried to Kill me And called me a traitor. I'm pretty sure I'm not exactly allowed back with them even if I wanted to go back, which mind you, I don't. They're like... Totes sus AF for one.\" I'm sorry... Did she just UNIRONICALLY use the term \"Sus\"?\n \"For two, going back would be a disrespect to Ika. I know it was a disrespect lying to him when he asked if I was one of them but I intend to fix that.\" There's a clear sadness in her eyes. Ika meant a lot to her. Betraying his trust hurt her now that she could actually feel things again\n\"For three, they're boring. Do you have Any Idea how boring it is around a bunch of mental zombies?\" She says in a half joking manner but this is Xion. She doesn't DO boring\n\"For four... If I was still with them, would I have freely and openly offered my weapons to Master Aria to prove I didn't want to cause harm? Sure it Could Be a ploy but in the time you've known me, have I ever shown signs of being a schemer?\" No no. She has a point. On both things in fact. What kind of enemy would intentionally nerf themselves to someone who is far above their weight class? And when did she ever actually show any semblance of strategy besides \"Hit it really hard\"? If she was a schemer, she would have been the one coming up with elaborate battle plans on the fly\"\n\"I just... Want to use the library. I don't want to fight. I want to help. And as nice as it is of you to offer the book, I've checked it out before at school. I'm not much for rune magic.\" She retorts with a slight note of amusement in her voice \"They're a great spell casting focus and are usually more accurate and are easier to put on time delays but they're also slower than having a direct spell casting focus like a Keyblade or a staff.\"" }, { "author": "Dado", "message": "Dado sighs. \"Wait here.\"\n\nHe turns and enters the tower." }, { "author": "Xion Kirisame", "message": "Xion nods and sits on the ground to wait. Dado was on her level and Master Aria was ABOVE her level by a significant margin. Not listening would likely lead to a fight she could not win." }, { "author": "Keyblade Master, Aria", "message": "Aria walked out of the tower, a lot more rested now than at Hollow Bastion. Her smile went away upon seeing Xion, only seeing a soon to be Kiki.\n\n\"Dado tells me you want access to the library.\"" }, { "author": "Dado", "message": "Dado silently follows, a book in hand. He avoids meeting Xion's gaze." }, { "author": "Xion Kirisame", "message": "\"I'd like to borrow the library so I can study support magic. Maleficent shut down my offensive magic with Shellza and I felt useless. I'd like to be able to do something next time that happens without having to resort to a thing that isn't made to be good. I'm not exactly allowed back with the Organization. Couldn't join back even if I wanted to. While I wasn't exactly given a formal 'You're fired', the implication is there when an attempt is made on your life and you're called a traitor despite having not actually done anything to be a traitor. Either way, I wasn't going back after that regardless of the attempt on my life. Having my Heart back cleared out the encroaching insanity of having no emotions and made me go 'Wait why did I join them in the first place?'\"\n\n\"Basically I want to not be completely useless next time my offensive magic gets shut down and learning support magic from books or even a trained Master such as yourself would help with that.\" She once again summons all three of her weapons, letting them all fall into the ground, points first within grabbing distance of Aria but not close enough to be interpreted as an attempt on her life \"Would someone who wants to cause harm to you, willingly offer up their weapons to you, not once but twice?\"\n\n\"Oh also if you Really Don't trust me, here's a little tip not many people know. Take the charm off my Keyblade and you have a fully functional magical conduit I refer to as the Mini Hakerro. Would an enemy divulge information that could be used to their advantage even if they wanted to deceive you by offering their weapons?\" She's really trying to convince them both she means no harm" }, { "author": "Keyblade Master, Aria", "message": "Aria listened to all of Xion's words and sighed, some anger coming through for the first time anyone has seen.\n\n\"You sound exactly like her. Instead of an apology you attempt to persuade your way back into our good graces. I would have accepted that before, but now you need to go prove it. Simply dropping your weapons and telling me about a weakness doesn't mean anything to me.\"" }, { "author": "Dado", "message": "Her...? Who's she talking about? Was there another traitor back when Master Aria was around?\n\nDado listens in silence." }, { "author": "Xion Kirisame", "message": "Xion seems just a little annoyed that they both seem to be BLATANTLY IGNORING THE ATTEMPT ON HER LIFE but nods \"I'm not sure how the attempt on my life and branding of 'traitor' from them isn't proof enough but deal. What do I need to do? I have no ill intentions and I'm not sure what exactly I need to do to prove it to you that I want to help so please enlighten me.\"" }, { "author": "Dado", "message": "\"You keep bringing it up, but...\" [Dado looks dead ahead, an idea churning.](\n\n\"Something about that bothers me. How did you survive? You never explained that part.\"" }, { "author": "Xion Kirisame", "message": "\"Kupo Coin. Happened to find one lying around a while back and never expected to have a use for it. How did You* Survive the cave collapsing on you back in Agrabah?\"" }, { "author": "Dado", "message": "\"Kingdom Key saved me, plus a local and a dude in a white cloak.\"\n\n\"What I'm wondering is... Why wouldn't they account for that? Kupo Coins are sold in pretty much every Moogle shop. I never go outside without one.\"\n\n\"If they were able to trigger your Kupo Coin, they clearly could've gone all the way. The fact that they didn't...\"\n\n\"[They have something to gain from keeping you alive!](" }, { "author": "Xion Kirisame", "message": "\"Y'know... You make an excellent point. Why Didn't They account for Kupo Coins? I have zero idea. Maybe it was a simple order of 'Deal with Xion' and they didn't care if I survived or not? Maybe it was to send a message that they're not to be messed with? Establish their dominance by killing someone who their enemies rely on for massive amounts of damage or something? 'Oh no they one shot our black mage!' or something? I'd probably be able to answer better if I didn't seem to be missing obvious information on them from my memories. Also not one of them had a Heart. I don't think I'm welcome back even if we disregard the attempt on my life. Seems to be a 'No Hearts Club.'\"" }, { "author": "Dado", "message": "\"I'm pretty sure Sir Icidro was investigating Organization 13. When he brought up a league of assassins at the last meeting, it seems like he meant them.\"\n\n\"I texted him in my Gummi Ship. Immediately after they attacked you, they attacked his group, too. I think...\"\n\nDado clenches his fist.\n\n\"What if he came too close to figuring them out? What if he came too close to figuring You Out?\"\n\n\"What if that 'attempt on your life' was to exhonorate you? It would explain why they attacked him next!\"" }, { "author": "Xion Kirisame", "message": "\"Wait... They actually attacked people?!\" She asks with genuine surprise \"Holy shit... I didn't know they actually attacked anyone... I was never informed of anything...\" She sort of half mutters loud enough to definitely be heard clearly but also seemingly half talking to herself at the same time\n\n\"Dado. I have lied about exactly one thing since meeting everyone and that was to Ika about being one of them. You have my absolute word that to the best of my knowledge, they want nothing to do with me beyond maybe my death. If I'm lying or betray you, I want you to kill me. I Don't want anything to do with them anymore even if they want me back for whatever reason if that counts for anything.\"" }, { "author": "Dado", "message": "Dado blinks in disbelief at Xion's shock, then shakes his head, falling silent once more." }, { "author": "Narrator", "message": "Xion would suddenly get a painful headache as a piece of her memory would return to her.\n\nScientist... Experiments.." }, { "author": "Xion Kirisame", "message": "Xion winces and brings a hand to her head as she lets out a small, pained hiss of pain \"Ah- I... I just remembered something suddenly... Like I'm remembering something that was blocked off- Nothing major but I remember there was in fact a French scientist woman in the Organization... And there were experiments... I... I don't know what though...\" She informs Dado before once again half muttering to herself\n\"I've been known for my amazing memory before... Why am I having memory issues suddenly? Is it connected to why my phone is a minute behind the clocktower now?\"" }, { "author": "Dado", "message": "Minute behind the clock tower. All technology in the area was set back by a minute without..." }, { "author": "Thina.AI", "message": "\"Yes, Xion's was set back too. I checked.\"" }, { "author": "Dado", "message": "\"Suddenly remembering a detail you think you can tell us. Convenient.\" Still, that does verify that the French scientist lady was working with them.\n\nDespite Dado's snark, something feels... Off. How did Thina not notice her own clock being changed? And why was it set back?\n\nDado walks forward, then holds out the book: \"Utility Magic and You, 2nd Edition\".\n\n\"According to one of the forewords, they decided Runes were best for teaching students when making Third Edition, and made it the new standard. If you don't like runes, this should be good enough.\"\n\nHis face bears an expression torn between pain and suspicion. He doesn't wanna get betrayed again. He doesn't wanna help an enemy. But... Knowledge should still be free." }, { "author": "Xion Kirisame", "message": "Xion just looks... Honestly kind of terrified... Like this is something new for her and not in a good way... Like something was actually wrong... \"Dado... Please believe me when I say that... I'm Scared... My memory is near perfect... I promise you that what I told you back in Hollow Bastion was everything I could remember... Why am I now remembering this detail? I Should Have known this already! I- I don't feel so good...\" She shakily takes the book with a forced smile\n\"Can... Can I please rest inside? I... I don't trust myself to... I... I honestly don't know... I don't trust myself to do anything right now... I'm afraid that if I try leaving, I won't be seen again... So may I please rest inside?\" Even for her, this overwhelming fear is unusual for her. It's not that fear was anything new to her. Hell, fear is technically what drove her everything. But this overwhelming fear... This raw primal fear that something was horribly wrong and she couldn't place what it was was something new entirely... Knowledge... That's what it was... Knowledge was a key facet of her character and losing knowledge was absolutely horrifying to her... What if she lost the knowledge of magic? The knowledge of Dado? Of Ika? Of ALL of this? She would rather die than have that happen. She felt like Ika and Dado were her two closest bonds and losing them in any way would break her" }, { "author": "Dado", "message": "Dado's eyes clench shut as he tries steeling his empathy. He turns around and walks back to where he was standing, then takes deep breaths." }, { "author": "Keyblade Master, Aria", "message": "Aria sighed while looking at Xion. She didn't want to risk a traitor getting knowledge they weren't supposed to have, but even she couldn't let someone in need of help be thrown under the bus.\n\n\".....Fine. Dado, you should go see if you can find any allies in traverse town. Maybe even find Fiora. I'll supervise Xion.\"" }, { "author": "Dado", "message": "\"I'll try.\" He nods to Aria.\n\n\"Thina?\" As soon as he calls her name, he disappears in a column of light." }, { "author": "Xion Kirisame", "message": "After a moment, Xion just... Collapses, having passed out, completely overwhelmed by uer own fear, worry and anxiety. Seems like she was trying to at least keep herself together in front of Dado" }, { "author": "Keyblade Master, Aria", "message": "Aria would ~~stab~~ pick up Xion and carry her inside the tower. Something strange was going on and she wanted to get to the bottom of it. Dado likely wouldn't approve of what she was about to do..." }, { "author": "Xion Kirisame", "message": "Too bad Aria wouldn't come train her. Xion could use some help with these support skills. Using them solo was just the worst. Nothing to REALLY do it properly on. Regardless... She sighs and creates her magical sheet music again and then casts Silence on it as it begins to play. Perfect! It's quickly silenced entirely! Blegh. Now onto Raise. Should hopefully have something around to cast it on... She looks around and sees a nearly dead tree, casting Raise on it, the tree immediately returning to full bloom, causing Xion to give an approving nod. Now what next...?\n\nWhat next, indeed. Poison and Arise, maybe? Poison and Soft? Oooh Soft actually sounds good... Dropping defenses would come in really handy... Poison and Soft it was! Not wanting to poison the tree she JUST brought back to life, Xion decides she'd be the best target. Sure she Could* Give Aria a mild case of food poisoning but that sounded like a really bad idea... Xion envisions green and purple blobs coalescing around her for poison damage and... That's about all that comes of it. Slightly foul smelling globs of purple and green surround her but that's it. Well that's dull. Either way, onto Soft! Even for her, it sounds dirty... She concentrates an orb of energy in her Mini Hakerro and fires it at... Her clothes. She should really start using fabric softener... And well... They're at least a little softer now\n\nAnd so Xion decides to repeat her process. The blobs of purple and green \"Poison\" Surround her again, this time making her a bit queasy. Ugh- This spell was seriously cruel- On to Soft! Firing up her magic, she fires a white orb at her clothes again! Oooh very soft~ Xion likey~ She'll need to do some... Experimentation with this one in private~\n\nAnd with a mighty boom and the sight of smoke coming from a window in the library, Xion is yeeted out of it to the ground. Thankfully nothing inside is actually on fire... This time... Just Xion's attempts at making a new magic backfiring on her \"Ow- Why is making new magic always blows up in my face? Is my own mana really That Unstable and volatile?\"" }, { "author": "Gursht", "message": "Gursht's head perked up at the sound of a curiously familiar voice. His tail wagged a little at the sight of the little-worse-for-wear human he had battled alongside recently. Though he had not known her for long, her prowess against the strange-birds left a good impression on the dinosaur.\n\n\"Hello there friend! It is good to see you again!\"" }, { "author": "Furo (DBX)", "message": "Furo stood outside as he let the cockpit of the ship close. He looked down at the woman laying there with neither amusement nor disapproval. He sent a momentary glace to the old man's way as he stepped around the prone individual.\n\n\"This is one of four.\"\n\nHe scanned the small group and pointed out what he could.\n\n\"And I've never seen muscles or the talking dinosaur before.\"\n\nDespite the incredulousness of the latter individual, he glowered at that fact that there were even new faces. \n\n\"Replacements so soon, huh? They must have done another recruitment drive. Hope the rest of you have been told what you're dealing with at least.\"\n\nHe spat it out with way more venom than he himself expected., but otherwise did not feel bad for doing so." }, { "author": "Otoka, Ex-Keyblade Master", "message": "The second gummi ship landed next to the one Furo got out of.\n\nAn old man emerged from the cockpit and looked the others over as he got out. He surveyed the area too, reminiscing on the past.\n\n\"Looks like things haven't really changed around here...\"\n\nHe walked ahead of Furo and up to the door of the tower.\n\n\"I'll go speak with Aria. She has some questions to answer before I get settled. Would be a shame to come all this way just to go back home.\"" }, { "author": "Nilus", "message": "Nilus recognised the witch that had been blasted out of the window. She was there at Hollow Bastion and from what Nilus remembered she was quite helpful, until the end when she was shot and she quickly disappeared. It seemed Gursht knew her too? Perhaps the Dinosaur had more experience with Heartless than he claimed. \n\nTwo more Teeny Ships arrived and another face that Nilus recognised exited the cockpit. Unlike Furo, Nilus recognised his face, he was also there at Hollow Bastion, he helped create the hole that allowed Nilus to return back to the Maleficent fight but Nilus wasn't sure he even saw Nilus. \n\n\"We are here to seal mine own Worlds keyhole. More information shouldst be arriving once Dado retrieveth someone named Aria. What art thou here for?\"" }, { "author": "Xion Kirisame", "message": "Xion looks up to see Gursht, Nilus, and Furo, grinning like an idiot \"Oh hey... It's uh... You three! I never got your names! I have uh... Dinosaur... Guy who ran away from Maleficent... And uh...\" She looks at Furo \"Don't you usually have two other guys with you? A bigger guy and then uh... A knight guy, right?\"" }, { "author": "Gursht", "message": "Gursht lifted his head up to actually look at Furo, ignoring the older gentleman that made his way inside the tower.\n\nWhat the younger man just said struck the dinosaur in a very particular way... Gursht was beginning to get the feeling that this herd of humans was facing some issues. He himself had witnessed internal struggles within his home-herd very consistently... All the way until the brutal, bloody end.\n\nGursht didn't say anything, but he watched the following interaction very closely." }, { "author": "Furo (DBX)", "message": "Furo, still running hot at how quickly these people could gather new volunteers, scowled as he chewed on the question asked. Honestly, why was he here? He did not need to check in for a job well done. He could leave and move on.\n\n\"Just dropping off the Old Man. I'll leave soon enough.\"\n\nA noncommittal statement that failed to mask the hostility underneath. His blue eyes shifting from muscleman to crazy sythe, as he addressed their next Concern.\n\n\"Its Furo; and do you really not know!? Or have they just not told you why they are refilling their ranks?\"\n\nSomething in the back of his mind was poking and prodding away, giving him a sense that this situation was familiar, yet he could not see why." }, { "author": "Xion Kirisame", "message": "\"For the record... I've just been here studying in the library the entire time The 'recruitment drive', as you put it, is all Dado. I'm just trying to pick up support magic. When Maleficent threw up Shellza, I was useless to the point of having to rely on something genuinely terrible to do anything. So I'm aiming to rectify that.\" Xion explains as she finally decides to sit up and face the group properly rather than upside down on her back" }, { "author": "Gursht", "message": "Gursht decided to add his own two-cents \"I am here because I am with my friend, Nilus.\" Which he then gave Nilus a quick glance... Then turned his attention to Xion for a second... Before turning his attention back to Furo.\n\n\"...Gursht thinks snowhair-friend is doing very well. I met her quite a lot earlier, when my ship needed to be fixed. Some strange-bird creatures caused a ruckus and I joined the fight. I don't think she was in the tower the whole time, but I would believe that she's been training.\"" }, { "author": "Dado", "message": "Dado walks outside, noodling around on his Gummiphone. He deleted his Kingslist post, then made a to-do list regarding current objectives.\n\n* Seal the Door to Darkness\n* Defeat Pira\n* Go to Agrabah with Aria and meet up with Aladdin and Princess Jasmine\n* Find Brad and Sir Icidro in Realm of Darkness\n* Save Ika\n* Find Fiora\n* Throw Fiora a birthday party\n* Defeat Xigellivr (ty Thina) (you're welcome)\n* Save Master Mod\n\nHe looks up from his Gummiphone, seeing Xion, Nilus, Gursht, and Furo, then sighs.\n\n\"Masters Aria and Otoka will be down shortly. I need to go grab one more person: Cavall, the dog-knight from from Hollow Bastion.\"\n\nHe turns to Xion, then nods. \"Master Aria told me about your memories.\" He leaves it at that, not feeling a need to elaborate further. Not yet, at least. It can wait until the meeting.\n\nFinally... He turns to Furo. He slowly walks up to him, unable to make eye contact.\n\n\"I'm... I'm sorry. After all this bullshit with Pira's done, I'll bring a team with me to the Realm of Darkness to find Brad and Sir Icidro. I should've never dragged you three into this mess.\"" }, { "author": "Furo (DBX)", "message": "Furo was... Put-off to having a dinosaur of all things speak to him. It was enough to make him question his own response, though he did not really care enough to point out Xion's claim being doubted by another. She was not what he was focused on to begin with.\n\nNo, his real issue came back after the appearance of another. That guy in glasses coming our of the tower put the scowl back on Furo's face.\n\n\"Tch...\"\n\nA scoff soon followed after at the thought of another team being put together; Likely after something occurred to this current one. He was gearing up to verbalize that exact thought, but he noted a discrepancy in Dado's statement.\n\n\"Pu-\" He stopped himself as he had already grown comfortable with the other name of the possessed heartless they encountered in Hollow Bastion's tunnels. \"Pira's dead. Don't tell me this is about hunting down the remnants of your hitlist.\"\n\nHe did not think he could be more exasperated in the moment, but if he just needed to inform them of what happened back then, hopefully he could save the lot of them from wasting their time and get after his friends." }, { "author": "Xion Kirisame", "message": "Xion looks at him confused for a moment at his statement and then gets an amused smirk on her face \"So I go and get myself back to normal and something happens to You? I swear I'm some sorta bad luck magnet... Stuff happens to the people around me for the world's dumbest reasons... I'll take Your Story when you get the chance. Also what about the hot blonde in the black leather with the crystals? Not gonna get her?\"" }, { "author": "Dado", "message": "Dado purses his lips, but doesn't acknowledge Furo's comment. He has every right to be pissed.\n\n\"Master Aria sensed Pira escape, and figures she's going for the Door to Darkness. If she gets there...\" He takes a deep breath. \"You know what? She can explain it. Either way, Pira's our biggest priority right now.\"\n\nHe inclines his head towards Xion, then rolls his eyes. \"I just texted Eve. If she wants to come, she'll come.\"\n\nHe begins walking towards his Gummi Ship." }, { "author": "Nilus", "message": "Nilus stepped forward as Dado turned to leave. What was the meaning of this? \n\n\"Halt there. Pira is thy priority now? What happened to saving Olympus? We are just postponing saving my world?\" \n\nNilus was not sure what was going on between Dado and the other boy but that should not be put in the way of his own mission and what happened whilst Dado was in the tower. Is the situation more dire than what was perhaps assumed meaning Nilus' quest was thrown on the back burner? Had he even intended to save Nilus' world? It wasn't like Nilus needed him, if Nilus wanted to save Olympus, he could do it his damn self." }, { "author": "Dado", "message": "Dado pauses. Based on what Master Aria said, Pira's a much bigger threat.\n\n\"I think I explained Keyholes to you poorly. While a Keyhole is unsealed, it means the world's At risk Of falling to darkness if a Heartless gets into the Keyhole. Sealing it while it's not actively being attacked by Heartless is a long-term preventative action.\"\n\n\"I wanted us to help you find and/or seal it before fighting Pira to gauge your readiness while also making sure your world is safe. However, Pira's a bigger threat than I was initially told. If she succeeds, all worlds get plunged into darkness, including Olympus.\"\n\n\"We'll find the Keyhole after dealing with Pira. In the meantime, Masters Aria and Otoka can give you proper education and training, so that whenever we go back to your world and find its Keyhole, you'll be prepared.\"" }, { "author": "Nilus", "message": "Nilus seemed to accept this answer. He assumed everything he was being told was true and if that was the case, then it looked like he had a lot of work on his hands. First, fighting this \"Pira\" Character, then he could focus on Olympus. In fact, in a way, both of these missions helped Olympus and if that was true then of course he had no choice but to accept. \n\n\"Very well Dado. I shalt help wherever I can if it means saving Olympus.\" \n\n..Proper training was interesting. Nilus had only been trained by the Hero's back home, and of course he had trained himself all this time but self teaching rarely produced great technique. He wondered what training was like from Teachers with Actual Experience against these \"Heartless\". What more could he possibly learn?" }, { "author": "Dado", "message": "Dado nods at Nilus, then gets in his ship and leaves the world." }, { "author": "Gursht", "message": "Gursht, of course, didn't say much as he watched Dado leave. But all this talk of darkness and keyholes had him wondering... \"What... Is a Heartless anyways? Humans have so many weird words for the same thing... Now Gursht is unsure if he has seen one before. If they are like Black-Tooth or the Crag-Dwellers then Gursht thinks he can fight them just fine.\"" }, { "author": "Furo (DBX)", "message": "Furo watched Dado leave in relative silence. The man seemingly passed the buck of the concerns being held to Aria and Otoka, with Furo's confusion with Pira and Mr. Muscles's education and training. The blond was fine with getting a straight answer from someone willing to give it. He had been fairly confident Pira was gone and Icidro had not been possessed, but now he was stuck questioning everything he witnessed that day.\n\nTrapped in the pit that was his own dark musings, it was the dinosaur of all individuals that snapped him from his thoughts.\n\nIt was a simple question about heartless; the most basic one at that. He had done his best not to be caught up in this Ghurt's(?) sheer existence, but that one definitely felt like the push to acknowledge the dinosaur.\n\nHe looked between the other two individuals outside hoping they would say something, but when an explanation seemed to not be forthcoming, he simply let out a breath.\n\n\"Not sure what those creatures are that you listed, but Heartless come in many forms. If you have concerns and questions, it appears that Aria is the one that's expected to answer them; I barely comprehend any of it myself.\"" }, { "author": "Keyblade Master, Aria", "message": "Aria would open the door to the tower and walk outside, seeing Xion, Gursht, Nilus, and Furo.\n\n\"Uh, so Dado mentioned a talking dinosaur and an... Olympian. My name is Master Aria. I asked Dado to look for allies who fought Maleficent because we need help. Before I continue, please tell me your names and everything you know about what is going on. What did Dado tell you? It is important you know everything we can tell you if you want to help.\"\n\nLooking over at Furo.\n\n\"Furo, did you want to use that spell Mod used to send a message to your friends?\"" }, { "author": "Otoka, Ex-Keyblade Master", "message": "Otoka stepped out of the tower and closed the door behind him. He stepped off to the side and allowed for Aria to speak and the others to respond before he said anything." }, { "author": "Furo (DBX)", "message": "\"He didn't tell them enough if the Dino hasn't even been told what a heartless is. Seriously, are y'all digging up time capsules or something for some of your recruits? And how is Pira apparently alive!? I may not have mentioned it, but my friends and I took her and the heartless she was piggybacking off of out!\"\n\nA possible reviving enemy is somewhere out there; with a Dinosaur, an Olympian, and who knew what else meeting here. Next thing he knew would be Dado coming back with a clown car of circus animals.\n\n...Or a robot. A robot would be pretty cool actually.\n\nFocus already disrupted by his imagination, Furo nearly missed the question directed specifically at him. At the thought of actually getting some sort of communication to anyone in his group, he eased up considerably. There was a longing there, but he had not parted with every—anyone on a good note. His issues with Brad to the side, he vaguely remembered shutting a door in both Sapphire's and Fiora's faces.\n\nWas that really the last time he saw anyone from his ship?\n\n\"Y-Yeah... I would like to relay anything I can to them.\"" }, { "author": "Xion Kirisame", "message": "\"Dado went off to collect more people. I dunno who he went to get since he seems deadset on keeping me in the dark. Also who is the older gentleman behind you? I assume he's an... Associate of yourself and Master Mod since he went straight into the tower like he'd been here many times before or even owned the place.\" She asks Aria as she points at Otoka. Her deductions weren't too bad. Otoka carried himself with a confidence one could only attribute to someone who had seen more horrors than most people and come out on top." }, { "author": "Gursht", "message": "When Aria posited her question towards the group, Gursht thumped his tail once on the ground with a snort. He seemed to be thinking... While someone more polite would wait until Xion was answered before barging into the conversation - Gursht was asked a question, and he was going to answer as such.\n\n\"Gursht - I am Gursht. I am what humans call... A dinosaur... Or... A Styracosaurus? Which one? It seems to change... They call Gursht 'Triceratops' too. Gursht has been traveling alone for a very long time now. When I fought the Black-Tooth and the Crag-Dwellers, I got this funny thing that people have been calling a keyblade. Gursht doesn't use it very much, I am not naturally fit to use these strange tools that humans wield... But Gursht has been practicing, so I can use the keyblade just fine - Gursht thinks.\"\n\nGursht rocked his head back and forth; almost literally rolling his thoughts around his thick, shield-like skull. His wail swayed to-and-fro until he found his words again.\n\n\"Dado said something about different heartless... But he was so fast that I couldn't really think. He spoke of the kinds there were, but not really What They were... Gursht thinks it might not matter though, nobody seems to know anything.\"\n\nGursht hadn't meant for the last line to sound as harsh as it did, but it certainly could be interpreted that way." }, { "author": "Nilus", "message": "Nilus stepped forward to greet Aria and introduce himself. It was difficult to explain what you knew and what you did not know so Nilus opted to explain everything he had learned since Hollow Bastion. \n\n\"Nilus, of Olympus. I was part of the group defending Traverse Town from these \"Heartless\" Before stepping into a portal leading to Hollow Bastion.\"\n\n\"Dado contacted me about both Pira and ensuring Olympus' safety through sealing some sort of \"Keyhole\". Olympus' safety of course came first however I hath been informed there are more concerns surrounding this Pira. He stated that all worlds will be plunged into Darkness, including my homeworld if she is not stopped. To save Olympus, I wouldst gladly accomplish both of these duties.\n\nNilus nodded to Gursht's explanation at what he knew, Nilus was in a spot not too dissimilar from Gursht's not too long ago but Hollow Bastion changed his view on these new worlds. He understood the Heartless were some sort of monsters. From where? He did not know but they seemed to be commanded by Maleficent and now Pira. That is where Nilus could fill in the missing pieces, armies of monsters organised and commanded by someone? He did not have to be told just how dangerous that could be. \n\n\"I agree with Gursht. Just what are these Heartless? What depths did they rise from? How long hath Olympus been at risk of this \"Plunging into Darkness\" Dado spoke of?" }, { "author": "Otoka, Ex-Keyblade Master", "message": "The woman must be the 'Xion' that Dado referred to. Crude, assertive. Quite troublesome.\n\n\"At one point I was Aria's teacher. You may call me Otoka.\"\n\nHe would then nod to Gursht and Nilus. \n\n\"The heartless are beings that manifest from the darkness in people's hearts. It is in their nature to attack those with hearts in an attempt to steal them. They typically act on instinct alone, driven to consume more hearts, and often target wielders of the Keyblade.\"" }, { "author": "Keyblade Master, Aria", "message": "Aria nodded to Furo and walked over to him, handing him some papers with instructions on how to cast the spell.\n\n\"It will work better if you do it, since you have a better connection with them. You can use the tower if you need a space to do it. As for Pira, from what I know they only used the person you fought as a vessel and used it to take the fall instead of dying themself...\"\n\nShe walked back over to Otoka, thinking over the information.\n\n\"It is as Master Otoka says, Heartless are dangerous and of they find and enter a world's heart, they destroy it forever... The only way to stop them is to find it first and lock the keyholes, the entrance to a world's heart, before a heartless can enter it. It will not only stop the world from falling, but it will make the heartless not as interested in that world and it will be a little safer. The Guardians of Light, my group, are responsible with going around and making sure the balance between light and darkness aren't disturbed. The Heartless threaten that but there are stronger beings that lead the Heartless. If you will allow me, I'll go over the current threat, the past... Issues, and possible future concerns. I don't want to overload you both, so I will exclude some things not as important and will explain them as needed. If there is anything more you want to know, I will gladly answer to the best of my ability.\"\n\nAria took a deep breath.\n\n\"First, the past issues we've had. I was not around for most of it, as I had been injured by a former ally named Kiki. As of now, she is dead, however one of my mentors, Master Mod-Gnik, believes she may be recovering in the shadows. But we have no confirmation of that and it is just speculation. Even so, be careful if you hear anything about her. But outside of that, a witch named Maleficent, who we thought had been running everything, caused multiple worlds to fall to darkness and was our main adversary. Her plan was to collect 7 people who had hearts of pure light and use the\n\nM to control all the worlds. Which isn't how that works, but the reason she believed that is because of Pira. Pira used to be a researcher who researched the Heart and eventually created special Heartless called 'Emblem Heartless'.\"\n\nTaking a moment to make sure she took a breath, she continued.\n\n\"Maleficent is dead. As I heard, Nilus, you helped defeat her with a group of others, Dado, and Xion. But that victory did not come without losses... Ikazuchi, a pupil of mine, sacrificed himself to help us win. Not only that, but Furo's friends are currently missing due to events that happened from the conflict. But lastly, Maleficent was barely defeated. It was a close battle and we almost lost. The coming battle and any future ones will be far from easy, so if you do choose to help, please make sure you understand that your life, as well as anyone you may care about, will be in danger. Do know, however, I will not allow any of you to perish or be lost so easily. In fact I am planning on trying to find Furo's lost friends as soon as I possibly can. I will provide as much support as possible to ensure your survival.\"\n\nAnother pause as she now shifts topics.\n\n\"I already explained Pira, as they are our current threat. Pira is i credibly powerful and knowledgable. Currently we don't know their exact location, but we do know they are somewhere deep within darkness. I have a plan to reach them without the darkness bothering us, but I am still waiting for stuff to finish it. Once Pira is defeated, for good this time, the Heartless should be a little easier to manage and the worlds not be in as much danger. That is why they are the top priority.\"\n\nShe mentally checked another box, now getting to the future problems coming.\n\n\"And... Future issues. We have been getting reports about a group, walking around in black coats, called 'Organization XIII'. From what we know, they are a group of assassins who's goals are currently unknown. They have caused some issues in the past, however they don't seem to be aligned with Maleficent or Pira. As such...\"\n\nShe glanced at Xion.\n\n\"It is important I tell you about Xion and her Involvement With them. Unknown to us, Xion was apart of this group until Maleficent was defeated. She says she is no longer associated with them, and even her memories of them have been locked away. I tell you this because you all deserve to know who you would be working with, if you want to join us. I will be keeping a close eye on her, but if she does show any bad signs, do not hesitate to consider her an enemy or report it to me. Once Pira is dealt with, I will try to look more into Organization XIII and their motives. A big detail is that Organization XIII is a group of beings called 'Nobodies', beings without a Heart. An empty husk that cannot feel emotion. And with that... Any questions for me? Any concerns? Do not hold back, please.\"" }, { "author": "Xion Kirisame", "message": "Xion sighs \"Admittedly I was part of them, yes. I recognize it was a huge mistake but in my defense, I don't believe I was ever informed of what they were actually doing. As far as my current memories allow, I can tell I was just sent to do what I was already doing in killing Heartless with my Keyblade. If I had more information, I would happily divulge it to help however I could.\"" }, { "author": "Gursht", "message": "The gears in the dinosaur's thick skull were turning as he listened to Aria and Otaka talk. Some things were starting to fall in place...\n\nGursht thumped his tail on the ground with another snort, he had an epiphany - Crag-Dwellers Were Heartless, he realized.\n\nIt made sense... They were a mysterious force that only knew hunger; they were an aberration in his world, a monster that was the defining fauna in the crags - badlands of darkened stone that lay far beyond the lush, rolling landscapes that were once plentiful in the world of Sauria.\n\nBut the Black-Tooth and the rest of the Crag-Dwellers were always there... They were there since his own father was a hatchling, and since his grandfather was a hatchling. If the Emblem Heartless were as recent as they sounded, then the heartless that attacked the Nesting Grounds were not Emblem Heartless. This means that Gursht didn't have any experience with fighting Emblem Heartless as far as he knew.\n\nHe heard Xion speak as he was thinking. He would let her finish before he spoke up himself.\n\n\"If what humans say about Heartless is true... Then Gursht thinks he has fought Heartless before.\"\n\nGursht snorted again, before testing his throat to say the next words - \"...But... Em-blem Heartless sounds really new. I don't think I have fought those yet. The ones that attacked the Nesting Grounds were really scary; Their chest split open like an earthquake, and the bones were like really big teeth. Like a really big mouth that walked around...\" Gursht let out the weirdest-sounding whine; like a giant lizard-cow remembering a bad dream.\n\n\"...I fought a really big Crag-Dweller - the one we called Black Tooth. That's when I got this...\"\n\nThat's when Gursht summoned Endling's Endurement, \"...I suddenly had it in my mouth when I charged the Black-Tooth. But Gursht doesn't remember much after that. Gursht doesn't even know if the Nesting Grounds are destroyed or not... Gusht doesn't know what makes a keyblade so special, or why I had one and the others d\n\nIdn't... And Gursht doesn't know how scary Emblem Heartless are compared to the Crag-Dwellers, they could be way scarier! I can still try, though... Gursht is used to death. We can always be eaten, even right now...\"\n\nThe dinosaur looked around after he said that, now seeming to check for any signs of predators lurking about." }, { "author": "Nilus", "message": "Nilus was slightly stunned at the mention of the losses that occurred at Hollow Bastion. He was not there as part of their strike force plan and only helped out with defeating Maleficent so was unaware of the sacrifice of Ikazuchi and the loss of Furo's friends, Nilus had assumed it was a successful quest. This must be why Dado was so on edge over sending Nilus or Gursht to help. \n\nNilus listened along to the rest of the explanation and laughed upon the mention of Gursht actually having fought some heartless before! \n\n\"Ha! Gursht! I knew thou had more experience than thou claimeth. Perhaps, our strength is not so far apart.\" \n\nWhen Nilus had regaled the story of Hollow Bastion to Gursht not too long ago, he had assumed that this real world experience in fighting the Heartless was what seperated Gursht and Nilus' strength, but this was clearly not the case! Gursht is much stronger than he gives himself credit for, Nilus came to realise. \n\nUpon the description of the Black Coats and Xion's involvement in the Organisation. A lightbulb lit up within Nilus' mind. He had met someone who fit that description! Now, Nilus had not interacted enough with him to properly gauge if he has no emotions but he had certainly witnessed him wearing that Black Coat. \n\n\"There was a young man, at Traverse Town during the attack that followed me and several others to Hollow Bastion, he didn't speak a word and I forgot about him until he recently interrupted mine and Gursht's sparring session down on Olympus before we met up with Dado. He introduced himself as Xanaro and he was wearing one of those black coats... He didn't come across as an assassin, but he did claim to be confident in his abilities with a bladed weapon. Doth Xion remembereth a skinny male with silver hair?\"\n\nNilus made no comment on Xion's involvement in this Organisation but he struggled to believe someone worked with an Organisation without knowing what they were doing. Her memories of her involvement and the motives of this group must be locked away or she was hiding the truth." }, { "author": "Otoka, Ex-Keyblade Master", "message": "\"A shame that your pupil had to pass, Aria. Ikazuchi sounds like he could have turned the tides.\"\n\nOtoka stopped to think for a moment.\n\n\"Before all of this, I had never heard of such an organization. To exist without a heart, huh?\"" }, { "author": "Furo (DBX)", "message": "He and his had done what they could about Pira before, and at this point her still being around was out of his hands.\n\n\"Thanks. Sorry, we did not get the job done on our side.\"\n\nFuro received the papers and skimmed a bit of it. Besides space to learn the spell, he needed time to organize his own thoughts on the matter. Even if he got the spell together, what would he even say. Icidro, Brad, Sapphire, and even Fiora. He had no idea what any of them were actually doing at the moment, what grand purpose or leisurely activity they could be seeing to. There was a lot he wanted to say to people he could not reach; All of them different and he was not sure how many chances he would get to say what was right.\n\nThe young man rolled the papers in his hand as he was preparing to take Aria up on her offer. He sat through the explanation on heartless and found himself rooted in place by further curiosity of what she had to get off her chest. His hand not holding the papers found itself rubbing the back of his neck. He recalled being told something happened to Mod, but he did not know about that individual named Ika perishing as well. His situation was frustrating with his friends, but at least he could hold out hope they were still okay. Even knowing that things could have turned out like this must not have eased the pain of those involved.\n\nIt probably would not mean much, but he determined to himself to find a moment and pay his respects after this talk of theirs. He could stick around that long, as with the things he wanted to attend to should not be going anywhere anytime soon.\n\nWhich was not without merit, as it seemed Ghurst did have dealings with the heartless. Though the idea that keyblades were not picky about the species of their hosts continued to make these weapons unsettling to deal with.\n \n\nHe perked up again when Aria began warning the newcomers about those assassins that put his friends lives in jeopardy one too many times. It was a scary thought, but the chance that anyone from his crew could be dealing with them at this very moment began to enflame the rage that had been stocked since the trouble in the desert four days ago. While he wanted to track them down and give what they gave, he currently had no leads. It was on his list of things to do since he was staying out of this \"Realm of Darkness\" In case someone turned back up where their phone had a connection.\n\n\"Unknown to us, Xion was a part of this group until Maleficent was defeated.\"\n\nFuro could hear his heart beat slow as his breath caught, and his sight refocused until the only thing not in the background of his vision was the woman currently in question. Each thump in his chest were followed with moments these assassins, this Organization Thirteen, held a heavy presence in his life.\n\nHis time here in the tower last. His separation from his team in Hallow bastion. Hell, one of these black coats showed themselves in the desert; in front of this woman no less!\n\nHis heart beat picked up until the only thing his ears could not drown out were the screams of building electricity and his own words of scorn that soon flowed from his mouth.\n\n\"You. Fucking. SNAKE! BITCH!!\"\n \n\nHand tightly clutching the rolled up spell handed to him, the sound of it crinkling in his grasp was lost as bolts of pure plasma began to arc off of Furo's form and singe whole patches of grass.\n\n\"You knew?! When one appeared in the desert to taunt those so called allies of yours, you were with them!\"\n\nHe recalled the three people said to die at the end of Agrabah. A part of him was beginning to question how often this group needed to replace the new help; thinking back to the three that he was told died after he left and his group of three taking their place. He did not have anything against Nilus and Ghurst, but he was having a poor time wrangling his own feelings that Icidro and Brad should be standing here instead.\n\n\"You knew when Icidro brought it up the last time and you got on your fucking high horse to tell the old lady about withholding information. My family was attacked by yours again at the castle!\"\n\nFuro lifted off the ground as the wind carried him higher. Illuminated he generated more power as electric blue eyes were only on Xion.\n\n\"Call me crazy, but you're not fucking intelligent choosing to parade in front of me!\"\n\nThe large orbs of condensed energy were produced and began to orbit around the potential sole member of the Storm Riders. He did not care to consider what happened next. Not his actions, nor the feelings of outsiders. All that mattered was that in the next few seconds the witch in front of him was nothing more than ash. The silver-haired woman may not have been the sole cause of the worst four days of his life, but she was a big one.\n\nAnd she was within his reach.\n \n\n\"If any of them are forever lost, then at least your death is by my hands,\" That final statement was the last bit of calm Furo had before he loosed the fury of three giant sparks of lightning at his target; one for each missing rider. Rather than shoot out normally, the three orbs channeled their payloads to tear along the grass and dirt burning a trail as they made the attempt to fry one Xion Kirisame.\n\n X 3 #" }, { "author": "Keyblade Master, Aria", "message": "Aria listened to Nilus and Gursht, feeling a little relieved to hear they have more experience than Dado first said. She still needed to make sure they were ready, but this was still a good start. But Nilus mentioning an Org member who was there when they were at Hollow Bastion made her worry a little more. How many people do they think are allies but are actually enemies? Who can they trust?\n\n\"A skinny male with skinny hair, you say? Be careful, if you see him again. We don't know why they are doing anything. Nor how strong they are.\"\n\nShe turned her head to Otoka to speak, however got distracted when Furo had begun to yell at Xion about her being a traitor. Looking to Furo, she attempted to speak to get him to calm down but nothing seemed to work as her words fell on deaf ears. She tried a few more times, before attempting to walk over once she saw him charging up an attack. She couldn't let him lose it here and hurt anybody, no matter how much they deserved it. Her plans quickly changed as she watched the magic electricity traveling from Furo to Xion. Without even thinking, on impulse, Aria jumped as fast as she could and landed in-front of Xion, holding her arms out to take the full blast from Furo.\n\nShe screamed in pain as she was unable to brace herself, and her body seemingly got a little charred. When the dust cleared, she tried to speak.\n\n\"I-I'm sorry, F-Fur-...O...\"\n\nShe said as she collapsed to the ground, passing out from her injuries.\n\nTook the attacks for Xion" }, { "author": "Otoka, Ex-Keyblade Master", "message": "Otoka was listening along as the others spoke among themselves, him having little input otherwise as he was not being directly addressed. He figuured he would let his student take the stage, and see how many of her lessons she actually took to heart. Unfortunately, after his previous comment, he turned away for a moment to think about the Organization without hearts. However, as he should have expected by now, when he turns away from a situation... It always ends up getting worse.\n\n\"Damn it, you fool!\"\n\nA scowl ran across his face as he shouted. Otoka then rushed to Aria's side and knelt by her. He fished around in his pocket before he produced a potion. He popped the cork and gently lifted Aria, before pouring the potion into her mouth. He pinched her nose to force her to swallow it. Not again, not on his watch.\n\n`Potion used on Aria`\n\nIt made sense, really. From everything Furo had told him. If these puzzle pieces were put together in this fashion, of course everything would boil over into a situation like this. This is exactly why he no longer approved of teaching magic to children.\n\n\"This will only help her for so long. If any of you know a cure spell, please use it.\"" }, { "author": "Gursht", "message": "Gursht's current alertness made him somewhat aware of Furo's coming fury... Not that he was able to properly communicate this, as the others were too busy with each other.\n\n—\n\"You. Fucking. SNAKE! BITCH!!\"\n—\n\nThat was spoken with such vitriol as to put Gursht on-ready for whatever was about to happen. He could smell the static in the air before it even began to spark, as he's become well-acquainted with the scent of plasma by now. Gursht has seen plenty of adrenaline-fueled fights where males gored each other to near-death, the musk of adrenaline caused by anger was unmistakable - as it smelled identical across many species.\n\nAs such, Gursht would put himself between Nilus and Xion - making sure both he himself and the Olympian were not right next to whatever Furo was about to do to the former Org member.\n\nOne of the most important rules Gursht learned as a small hatchling was to not put yourself in the middle of two enraged animals... So he hadn't expected anyone to jump in front of that on-coming thundaga...\n\n...And Gursht watched with some mix of shocked emotions when Aria did exactly that.\n\nIt happened so fast that she was already on the ground when Gursht blinked. He didn't register much else as his attention was now locked onto the woman laying in a heap. Otaka's request for a Cure almost went unnoticed by him.\n\nBut like some prehistoric Saint Bernard; Gursht was quick to trumble over to the fallen Aria. He had exactly what the doctor ordered, and he would do what he could to make sure the job was done.\n\nGursht, having no hands, didn't exactly cast spells as one would normally do. He sniffed Aria's poor smoked form once to get a good idea of the damage, before letting out a huff of air.\n\nCuraga.\n\nTo those who were more magically inclined; you could almost see the small astral images of leaves and flowers that dance across her wounded form - and soon tiny images of oviraptors would start sweeping away fresh injuries with their tiny little wings; like a littl\n\nE cleaning crew here to mend a dinged-up warehouse.\n\nOf course, depending on the severity of her injuries, Gursht may need to apply more magic - but he seemed willing to do that." }, { "author": "Xion Kirisame", "message": "\"I'm sorry! I don't think I knew that they attacked people!As far as I can remember, I was never informed of anything properly! I was assigned to kill heartless, I think!\" Xion tries to explain as she sees the three Thundaga come here way, fully willing to accept that she honestly kinda deserved it untill Aria jumped in the way. Xion stands there in shock for a moment before Otoka snaps her out of her daze by mentioning Cure so decides to quickly cast it on Aria as she leans over the older woman \"Master Aria! Why? I thought... You didn't trust me... Dammit... I always seem to screw up in the worst way possible...\"\nShe then looks up at Furo \"I know my words likely don't mean much to you but I'm sorry. I'll help get your friends back. My memories of the organization may be mostly gone but that doesn't change that they hurt you and your friends... Your friends clearly mean more to you than anything else... Please allow me to fix my mistakes however I can.\" She requests him as she bows her head" }, { "author": "Furo (DBX)", "message": "Tunnel vision was the story of Furo's life at that moment. Never before had he had such clarity and focus on any one particular thing. All he wanted in the next moment was for Xion to fall prone under the weight of the perceived misdeeds Furo had stacked against her; Her pathetic claims of amnesia did nothing to absolve her of any misconduct in his eyes. He could even chalk this moment up as removing a potential sleeper agent from these supposed heroes if he had been in a state to think more rationally.\n\nOf course if he had been in a more rational state, he possibly could have planned around Aria's interference.\n\nThe sight of the blunette throwing herself in front of Xion shattered his expectations with the stark reality of the results of his actions. He fell from the air, landing on his rear and hands as he was faced with the the wrong person being burned in this situation. Otoka's words of desperation were the only things that got to him before the weight of the situation fully pressed upon the confused blonde. \n\nFrom confusion to anger at the silver witch being protected, Furo could only feel betrayal by Aria's actions and he reached a hand forward for a follow-up shot. Guilt, however, wormed its way to the forefront of his emotions as his fingers sparked and sputtered out. Lightning that had before bent to his will, now fizzled out at his call as the remorse set in for his own wrongdoings. As everyone seemed to crowed around Aria's unconscious form, he did not wait to see if she pulled through or not.\n \n\nHe pulled his offending fingers back as they clutched at his chest and wrinkled his undershirt, Furo rolled to his side as to get his feet underneath him before darting away. The papers given to him were dangerously close to ruin within his tight grip, but the integrity of their form was secondary to his escape from this place. Only one could aid him in this moment, and the boy made the call for them.\n\n\"M-Mamu!\"\n\nNo order given; No extrapolation on his part as to what he needed or why. Perhaps it was the sheer distress in his voice, but the telltale beam to recall him to the main ship hid Furo's form in its cylindrical illumination. It came and went, spiriting away the boy with it. The only reminders that he had even been there were his teeny-ships departing on their own accord. Though, they too were soon out of view leaving yet another mess to be attended to during this hellish week." }, { "author": "Keyblade Master, Aria", "message": "Aria, after being given the potion and having cure applied to her a few times, would wake up and weakly begin to try and move. She noticed Furo leaving and attempted to call out to him, but it was too late. Instead she looked up at Otoka, and everyone else.\n\n\"I'm... Sorry...\"" }, { "author": "Xion Kirisame", "message": "Xion slips an arm under Aria's and helps her to her feet as they both stand up \"I'm not sure why you're apologizing. You just spoke the truth. If anything, I Should be apologizing to You. You didn't need to take those for me. You Shouldn't Have taken them for me. I kinda deserved it... I'm sorry you got hurt because of me... Now would you like me to escort you to an open bed for you to rest or would you rather Master Otoka do so?\" She asks as she... Admittedly struggles a bit to prop Aria up as a support. She's fantastic at magic... Her physical strength on the other hand... Was honestly pretty terrible" }, { "author": "Otoka, Ex-Keyblade Master", "message": "Otoka watched as Furo ran for the hills and beamed himself up with the ship. He didn't exactly expect that reaction, but also wasn't exactly not expecting it. He'd have to find the boy again after everything is said and done.\n\n\"We both know you aren't built to take a hit like that. You really haven't changed in all these years, still letting your emotions guide your decisions when it matters most.\"\n\nHe then shook his head as he scooped Aria up from Xion.\n\n\"I'll take her inside. We'll continue this once she's recovered a bit more. Besides, we still need to wait for that Dado lad to return.\"" }, { "author": "Gursht", "message": "Gursht snorted, swaying his tail. \"If Aria-Friend needs more help, Gursht is happy to try.\"\n\nSuddenly there was a ding on his phone.\n\nGursht lifted his paw to look at the device strapped to his forelimb. \"Ah! Gursht's new helmet is finished. Gursht must go pick that up.\" He put his paw down again. \"Gursht will be back soon!\" Gursht turned to leave, before stopping...\n\n\"Uh...\" He turned back around \"...Should Gursht get your numbers?\" He asked, looking over everyone but Nilus, as he could already contact the Olympian." }, { "author": "Xion Kirisame", "message": "\"Thank you, Master Otoka.\" Xion thanks the older man with a polite bow \"Oh! Um... I actually forgot for a while but Master Mod once mentioned that someone managed to replicate the effects of a Keyblade in the past but wouldn't really tell me or Dado back then, saying it was a 'story for another time.' Do either of you know what she was talking about? I was just saying to her that a skilled enough mage could probably replicate the Heartless purifying effect of them and she disagreed, mentioning that.\" She's very curious about this. Maybe it was Kiki? Or that scientist Dado was after? Or was it Pira? Someone yet unknown?\n\nXion absentmindedly hands her phone to Gursht \"Not sure how you use these without fingers but uh... Insert your number to my contacts, I guess.\"" }, { "author": "Otoka, Ex-Keyblade Master", "message": "\"Thank you.. Gursht. Aria should be fine for now. I will tend to the rest of her wounds and make sure she gets some rest. I, however, do not own a device in which you could contact.\"\n\nHe then turned to respond to Xion.\n\n\"First I'm hearing of it.\"\n\nHe said, bluntly. He was unsure at the time if he even did know what the girl was talking about.\n\n\"Also, just Otoka is fine. I no longer carry the title of master.\"" }, { "author": "Nilus", "message": "Nilus had been stunned when the blonde boy had unleashed such a rage it would make Ares proud. He simply stood and watched when Furo had launched his Thundaga at Xion, he stood and watched again when Aria put herself in dangers way and protection Xion and when Aria required medical aid, Nilus stood and watched again. For all his boasting about Heroism, Nilus seemed to struggle when it mattered most. \n\n\"Apologies.. I know no magic. I'm useless in that regard.\" \n\nNilus couldn't help but have a tone of jealously every time magic is ever mentioned. Every instance of its use further provides evidence that Nilus' life would be far easier if he could utilise the magical abilities that everyone else he has encountered seemed to be able to do flawlessly. \n\nNilus nodded at Otaka's suggestion to continue once Aria has recovered.\n\n\"We should discuss what transpired once Dado returns. Furo will certainly attack Xion next time they meet and I do not wish to be within the vicinity, lest we all end up like Aria.\"" }, { "author": "Gursht", "message": "Gursht used his beak to pull out a little touch-pen, tapping Xion's information into his Gummiphone.\n\n\"Gursht does not need fingers when humans were smart enough to make these. Otherwise, Gursht just uses giant buttons on this ship...\"\n\nThat's when he realized...\n\n\"Oh - my ship! I left it in Olympus! How is Gursht going to leave?!\"" }, { "author": "Xion Kirisame", "message": "Xion takes back her phone and hands it to Nilus \"You have a Keyblade, right? Use the Lanes Between. Visualize your destination or sorta just... Want To go somewhere and your Keyblade can open a portal. You'll want to manifest armor from your Keyblade too to avoid being corrupted by the Darkness in them.\" She sorta lazily explains... Probably poorly \"I don't really get it myself. Everything is so complicated.\"\nShe turns back to Otoka and gives a small shake of her head with a smile \"Sorry, sir. Referring to you by just your name feels wrong. You may no longer be a Keyblade Master but you were at one point. Also as Master Aria can attest to, I want to train under Keyblade Masters to eventually become one better than Kiki when it comes to both Light and Dark. I want to show that both Light and Dark can corrupt in too large of quantity or quality. I want to help people strike a harmonious balance between the two like I do.\" As she says this, she creates a simple basic Yin Yang Orb above the palm of her hand \nShe then turns to Aria \"Do you know what Master Mod was talking about? I'm genuinely curious to know who it was she was referring to and what they did to replicate a Keyblade. I don't want to make one myself since I'm satisfied with the one I already have but I enjoy knowledge.\"" }, { "author": "Nilus", "message": "Nilus had spent the better half of thirty minutes or so attempting to help Gursht use the Lanes Between with his keyblade, but just like Xion, Nilus was also a terrible teacher who was incredibly new to this whole thing and had mostly learned his keyblades capabilities by mistake. \n\n\"Thou must envision where thou wisheth to go... Then.. Go..\" \n\nTerrible teaching but at least he was trying. Nilus had been repeating these same words for around fifteen minutes or so and had made no attempt to change up his teaching style. \n\n\"Make sure to point it in the sky.. And think really hard.\"" }, { "author": "Gursht", "message": "Gursht, as smart as he was, was still a simple creature, and just couldn't be taught the same way it seemed others had to. Eventually though, he did grow tired and frustrated - and stomped his foot once.\n\n\"Enough! Gursht understands Nilus-friend trying to help... But Gursht will now try this himself.\" It wasn't meant to sound as harsh as it might have been, but perhaps it was something that Gursht needed to do in his own way.\n\nRight... Just think about where he wanted to go? Keyblade's have acted weird thus far, almost seeming to act as the same logic as dreams.\n\n...\n\n...!\n\nDream-logic!\n\nWith that sudden conclusion, the Amber Keycharm that normally hung around his neck would vibrate, before dispersing around his body in a swarm of marching ants. It would be unsettling to look at for anyone who may have been squeamish about bugs... But Gursht seemed unbothered.\n\nThe swarm of ants would mold and melt into a suit of armor; one that resembled some kind of prehistoric Rhino-beetle, but it was still easy to tell that Gursht was wearing it.\n\n\"Ah! Now Gursht shall walk there... Now Gursht shall be back soon!\"\n\nAnd just like that, he managed to open a pathway through The Lanes Between and just... Walked right in.\n\nJust simple as that.\n\n``Gursht will return in roughly 10 minutes.``" }, { "author": "Nilus", "message": "Excellent! Through Nilus' teachings it was clear that he had efficiently and effectively taught Gursht how to use the Lanes Between. \n\nMission Successful! \n\nAlthough, Nilus felt like there may have been a crucial detail he had forgotten to mention to Gursht but he was struggling to remember... \n\nOh well, Gursht was quite adaptable. Nilus was certain that if a problem did arise that Gursht could solve it without issue. He'll just ignore that feeling like he forgot something incredibly important." }, { "author": "Narrator", "message": "Two hours or so later, Dado and Cavall arrive via Dado's Gummi Ship. A Teeny Ship carrying Eve is right behind them." }, { "author": "Dado", "message": "The helm of Dado's ship pops open, and he leaps out and onto the ground." }, { "author": "Cavall", "message": "The sound of a slide whistle calls out as a single leg rises and falls onto the ground behind Daedalus, before the lanky figure of Cavall slinkies to catch up. Briefly adorned in a Hawaiian shirt and visor, the tourist glances about the new world with Polaroid camera in hand— The moment the first, obnoxious flash fades after having flooded the scene, Cavall stands in his armor as if the gag had never happened.\n\nGaze turning to the dinosaur, the faintest hint of confusion rests on Cavall's face. Slowly, he lowers himself to a bow of hesitant recognition." }, { "author": "Xion Kirisame", "message": "Xion had escaped the Realm of Darkness and is now casually sitting outside the tower reading a random book \"So... I May Have lost my cool a bit.\" She says upon seeing Dado" }, { "author": "Eve Albrite", "message": "Eve hops out of the Teeny ship and stretches a bit \"Those things are so cramped. Can't stand traveling in them. Why can't this place be accessible by Obsidian Chocobo too?\" She complains" }, { "author": "Dado", "message": "Dado, tragically, doesn't see Cav's shenanigans, as the guardian landed behind him. He only sees a flash of light, turns around, and sees the armored knight.\n\nHe thinks nothing of it, turning and addressing Xion. \"Yeah, you and me both... Where did that portal even send you, anyways?\"" }, { "author": "Xion Kirisame", "message": "Xion's look turns sad \"My first serious failure... Your fallen home... It was... Admittedly not the best feeling to be reminded of my failure. We were so close to saving it is what makes it so much worse...\"" }, { "author": "Dado", "message": "Wow. His darkness is even more of an asshole than he is. He was right not to rejoin with him.\n\n\"I'm sorry.\" He isn't able to offer much else in the way of comfort." }, { "author": "Xion Kirisame", "message": "She shakes her head \"I should be apologizing to you. Your home fell because of our incompetence. We were so close to saving it. Honestly it amazes me you chose to join us after that-\"" }, { "author": "Dado", "message": "He sighs. He already went through this song and dance with Ika.\n\n\"The only thing we can do is use our experience to make sure as few people as possible go through it again.\"\n\nHe decides to change the subject. \"Based on the way that Organization XIII lady was talking, I'm pretty sure she Wanted To stoke our distrust of you.\" He's not sure what to make of that yet." }, { "author": "Xion Kirisame", "message": "\"Rule one: Don't think too hard about her words and distrust everything she says. Even with my memories of my time as a... Colleague of hers MIA, I have at least one experience prior to that. In short? She's cryptic, tricksy and all around not to be trusted. Let's see... Who would be a good comparison...? Hopefully references make sense across similar worlds... Think of her like a Mephiles type of character. Do not trust under any circumstances.\"" }, { "author": "Dado", "message": "He tilts his head. The reference is foreign to him.\n\n\"Either she wanted us to distrust you, or she wanted us to overthink it and trust you out of spite.\"\n\n\"I... Treating you like an enemy isn't gonna get us anywhere. Especially not when you can't even remember being one. If the time comes, and you do end up being a sleeper agent... Hopefully you'll have second thoughts.\"\n\nHe holds an arm out." }, { "author": "Gursht", "message": "Gursht, having returned hours ago had decided to nap on the grass... And was startled by the flash of the camera light, but he quickly calmed down when he realized that there wasn't any present danger.\n\nHe got to his feet and stretched; his shoulders popping once, along with his spine and tail, before he shook himself and tumbled on over to the rest of the group.\n\nHe too noticed the dog-knight... Where has he seen Him Before? The dog actually looked familiar(With Gursht's comparatively poor eyesight that said a lot), and the dinosaur returned the look of confused-recognition.\n\n\"....? Has... Has Gursht seen Dog-Man before?\" He asked more-so himself than anyone else... Then he just shrugged \"Guess it doesn't matter anyways.\"\n\nGursht thumped his tail once on the ground. \"Gursht sees Dado-friend brought more friends back...\" He started just as Dado held his arm out to Xion. \"...Gursht hopes they don't explode in lightning, too.\"" }, { "author": "Nilus", "message": "Nilus raised his arm as a greeting to Dado and those that followed him. He recognised both Eve and Cavall from the Hollow Bastion mission, and greeted them both as they arrived. \n\"Finally, thy hast arrived.\" \nWhilst Dado and Xion conversed, Nilus introduced himself to Cavall. \n\"It is good to see thou again. Mine name is Nilus, thou saved my life during the fight against the evil Witch.\" \nNilus was slightly surprised that Gursht had supposedly met the Knight before but he was beginning to understand he needed to stop underestimating Gursht's experience with the various worlds. \n\"Gursht, this knight helped to releaseth me from a prison of Darkness during the battle, of course I hath to returneth the favour moments later so we are even.\" \n\nNilus nodded along at Gursht's mention of wishing these friends don't explode into lightning either. \n\"Yes, there was an incident whilst thou was gone. The blonde boy that was here earlier attacked Xion with lightning magic and Aria put herself in the way. We hath been waiting thy arrival whilst she recovers... Shalt we retrieve her?\"" }, { "author": "Dado", "message": "\"Yeah, Xion mentioned that.\" Dado grimaces. \"Let's check up on her, then bring Master Otoka back down.\"\n\nHe walks over to the doors, inclines his head to beckon over anyone who wishes to follow, then proceeds through them." }, { "author": "Nilus", "message": "Finally, the real adventure awaits. No more sitting and waiting around. It was time to begin the Quest of a lifetime. \n\"Come on Gursht, let's go.\" \nAnd Nilus would continue to follow Dado not even checking if his 4 legged friend could fit inside the tower." }, { "author": "Gursht", "message": "The front door was a tight fit, but Gursht could wriggle his way in. No-no; the door wasn't the problem.\n\nIt was the staircase.\n\nGursht watched everyone else go up... While he was left behind.\n\n\"Gursht is too fat for this place. Gursht is going back outside, Gursht can wait.\" And, ever-so-careful as to not knock anything over, Gursht carefully turned around, and squeezed himself out the door again." }, { "author": "Nilus", "message": "Nilus returned from his expedition upstairs. The vast staircase conquered and defeated and Otoka was retrieved. He immediately made his presence known. \n\"I hath returned.\"" }, { "author": "Gursht", "message": "Gursht, while everyone was mucking about in the tower, was attempting to munch down on some of the tower's shrubbery." }, { "author": "Cavall", "message": "The hound remains quiet as they take in the surroundings, almost as if searching for something that wasn't there, before realizing that they had, in fact, been spoken to— Minutes ago, if the people claiming to have returned was anything to go by.\n\nPlacing a hand upon his chest plate, they bow to the group with a light smile, \"Well met. 'Tis a pleasure to meet you in the flesh— And you outside of warfare.\"\n\n\"We answer to the name Cavall Legion, but you may refer to us as Cavall, or Cav, if you desire— It is what friends should do.\"" }, { "author": "Gursht", "message": "Gursht thumped his tail on the ground once, his beak-full of once-trimmed greenery as he turned his attention to Cavall again. \"Meet me in the flesh?\" He replied, his voice a little muffled by the leaves. He seemed to rock his head to-and-fro as he rolled his memories around.\n\n\"Hrm... OH! I did see you in a dream. There's lots of weird magic-stuff lately, Gursht has learned - did we have the same dream?\" He finally asked the dog-knight." }, { "author": "Cavall", "message": "\"It would appear so— It does make one wonder, why we dreamt the same dream. Perhaps...\" Cavall trails off as they bring a hand to his face, contemplative, \"When all is said and done with the present issues at hand, perhaps someone should pay a visit to Atlantica?\"\n\n\"... But that is neither here nor there. After all, it was but a dream, was it not? Our enemy then may not be our enemy in waking life, and certainly not our current enemy.\"\n\n\"We were told that a meeting was to be had. Is it not being held out here?\"" }, { "author": "Nilus", "message": "Nilus remembered the same dream as Gursht and Cavall did. He was surprised to hear they all shared that dream. What sort of magic could do that? There was so much he did not know about magic and he was certain he will never learn. \n\n\"Yes, the meeting shalt be held out here. I believe Dado and Otoka will be coming shortly.\"" }, { "author": "Dado", "message": "As if on cue, Dado walks outside, an uncertain look on his face.\n\nThey can likely count on him, Xion, Eve, Cavall, and Nilus in the battle ahead. He hopes Pira is somehow weaker than Maleficent." }, { "author": "Gursht", "message": "\"There's Dado-Friend! How is Aria-Friend doing?\" Gursht asked, thumping his tail once on the ground with a snort." }, { "author": "Dado", "message": "\"Master Aria's still asleep.\" He sighs, then takes a seat a few paces outside of the Tower.\n\n\"Everyone, take a seat. The meeting will begin shortly.\"" }, { "author": "Nilus", "message": "Nilus says nothing as he takes a seat, ready for the meeting to begin." }, { "author": "Gursht", "message": "Gursht nodded, before doing that four-legged animal stretch... Then laying on the ground with a huff.\n\nHis tail thumped every so often as his back limbs laid to the side, while his front limbs were splayed to keep him upright." }, { "author": "Xion Kirisame", "message": "Xion's already sitting, back against the tower, head still buried in her book. Though she figures he means within immediate view of the door so she very lazily creates a magic platform underneath herself and ferries herself to sit next to Dado" }, { "author": "Eve Albrite", "message": "Eve is already sitting nearby, not really seeing the need to just stand around when she could just sit instead" }, { "author": "Cavall", "message": "With Dado arriving with such an order, Cavall glances about the area— Upon finding no chairs and everyone else sitting upon the ground, the hound reaches a hand down his breastplate to pull out a long, long cloth to snap into the air and let flutter to the ground. A plaid picnic blanket, perfect to sit upon.\n\nMaking themselves comfortable, Cavall sits cross legged and steeples his fingers together with keen interest." }, { "author": "Otoka, Ex-Keyblade Master", "message": "Eventually, Otoka would join the others outside.\n\nHe looked over the group, seeing those who were here before and the few new faces.\n\nHe nodded to himself before he spoke up.\n\n\"Since a few of you weren't here before, I'll go over it again. My name is Otoka. I was once a keyblade master who taught Master Aria and her peers. I would prefer if you kept it at Otoka, but will not stop you if you still wish to address me as master; however just know I no longer carry the title.\"\n\nHe cleared his throat and popped his knuckles.\n\n\"Aria asked me to help where I could, so, here I am. If you have any burning questions, ask away. I'll answer to the best of my abilities, but Ive been out of the loop for an odd amount of years so my information on current day events is second-hand alone.\"\n\nHe then shook his head.\n\n\"However, If there are no questions, we can move on to the evaluations... And hopefully Aria will be awake by the end of them to discuss strategy.\"" }, { "author": "Dado", "message": "Just Otoka, no title. His teacher's pet instincts gnash their teeth at this request.\n\n\"Xion, Cavall and I can debrief you and Master Aria on what happened when I went to grab him later.\" He has no further questions." }, { "author": "Xion Kirisame", "message": "Xion raises a hand \"I know this probably isn't relevant to the upcoming battle but I'd like to know more about Former Master Kiki before she went all coocoo psycho Darkness possessed.\"" }, { "author": "Dado", "message": "A shiver runs down Dado's spine while Xion's talking. What was that...?\n\nHe's filled with dread." }, { "author": "Cavall", "message": "Cavall remains silent as Otoka speaks, quietly regarding the man with an odd look in his eyes. Ah, the passage of time marches ever onward. Closing his eyes, the hound breathes softly as Xion poses such an irreverent question. \n\nIn a light, serene voice, they offer Otoka an out, should the old man wish to move on from such a topic quickly, \"We would like to know the particulars of these 'evaluations.' Just what are we to be evaluated on?\"" }, { "author": "Gursht", "message": "Gursht yawned, still just a little sleepy \"...Gursht has no questions, no questions I can think of. But Gursht is also curious... About... Uh... E-val-u-a-tion... Yes, evaluation! Yes... Gursht can speak.\"\n\nThe dinosaur said the last part mostly to himself as he nodded his head.\n\n\"Gursht would like to know what these evaluations are.\"" }, { "author": "Otoka, Ex-Keyblade Master", "message": "Otoka shook his head.\n\n\"I concur; Kiki is not of the current issue. However, return successfully from the battle with Pira and I will tell you anything you want about Kiki that I know.\"\n\nHe then nodded.\n\n\"As for the evaluations, it is rather informal. You have two options... You can go on a rant and tell me a bit about your strengths and role in a combat scenario...\"\n\nHe then put his left hand on his right shoulder and rolled his arm to stretch.\n\n\"Or you can ditch your words and show me what you've got by throwing your best at me. As much prep time as you need, no holding back.\"\n\nHe tried this on Furo previously. And although the boy refused then, this was a quick way to test what this lot was capable of." }, { "author": "Information", "message": "If you plan to oblige Otoka's request, you may use as many turns as necessary to flex your build to its maximum. \n\nThe only requirements being you include how many turns it takes you to get to that point, and how much AP or MP it costs to get there.\n\n- For the builds it matters for: Otoka is a Whole being of the Light Path.\n\n- For builds that use combos or other skills/abilities that require successful hits, \"False hits\" Are allowed in this sense; where you can gain the typical combo boost (or similar ability) stack each turn that passes without actually hitting anything, as if in a real combat scenario.\n\n- Finally, you can use limit breaks if desired without first reaching the HP threshold.\n\nTo save on time, this will not be an actual spar. You've got one \"Post\" To throw your best shot at Otoka." }, { "author": "Dado", "message": "Dado gets up, then materializes Kingdom Key.\n\n\"My name is Dado, Guardian of Light. My darkness was extracted just recently. I'm probably weaker than most of the people here.\"\n\n\"That said, this Keyblade right here is supposed to be capable of sealing the Door to Darkness alongside its dark counterpart. Essentially, it's our win condition.\"\n\n\"I'll do my best to hold my own, but at the end of the day, my main job is to seal the Door to Darkness.\"\n\nHe bows his head, then walks out of the way of anyone planning to attack the old Master." }, { "author": "Cavall", "message": "How could one rant on their power? Or, to attack a master keyblade wielder, retired as he may be? That seemed a hassle, and the worst way to show off where their true worth shined.\n\nEyes closed, Cavall remains silent as they condense, coalesce their feelings to the deepest core. Simmered, refined, extracted— Rendered absolute in authority and in truth. In essence, where Dado wimped out and sold himself short, Cavall had to supply the man with what he wanted, simple, and to the point.\n\nThe hound opens his eyes, making eye-contact with Otoka.\n\n\"We are a shield.\"" }, { "author": "Otoka, Ex-Keyblade Master", "message": "He nodded at Dado. Unfortunate it may be to not actually see for himself what the kingdom keyblade's chosen was capable of. However, he would not dare doubt Mod's choice in making him a guardian.\n\nThen came Cavall. Over the years of exile, he had met many strange creatures and beings that piqued his interest. A dog-man was never one of them he had the pleasure of meeting.\n\nHis answer was short and to the point. He liked it. With a grin, he kept eye contact with Cavall and spoke.\n\n\"A fellow brother. Good, they need you.\"" }, { "author": "Gursht", "message": "Gursht watched the others... He wasn't really sure whether to comply with the request or not. The last time an Old Bull asked him something like that Gursht got shoved and thrown into a mud hole.\n\nConsidering how strong these humans actually were... He didn't want to test the old man. He seemed far too confident here. Bulls who charged first got eaten first, that's how so many members of his kind died before the age of 10.\n\nThe earliest and most brutal lessons in a young ceratopsid's life was watching your siblings get eaten first.\n\nGetting older, he and his surviving nest mates finally met up with the rest of the herd. There he would learn defense techniques that they would use frequently against Carnotaurs. While this worked well, there was always somebody that got eaten because they were sick, injured, or weakened in some way.\n\n\"...\"\n\nGursht would come and lay more forward than the others; ready to get up if anything had gone wrong.\n\n\"Gursht is not good with words, but Gursht has to try or everything dies again. Gursht can't do anything if he grows weary fighting when he doesn't need to.\"" }, { "author": "Otoka, Ex-Keyblade Master", "message": "Otoka crossed his arms. He wasn't unhappy with these results, but he expected at least one person by now to take him up on the challenge.\n\nHe nodded to acknowledge Gursht.\n\n\"Words will hardly matter when it comes time to act. Nevertheless, a respectable decline.\"" }, { "author": "Nilus", "message": "It was Nilus' turn to take the stage now. Unlike everyone before him, he was more than happy to provide an example of his strength. He could easily have ranted about his strength to Otoka, regaled him with many tales of his victories but truthfully, words could not do Nilus' strength justice and instead it was action that will provide the proof that shall prove Nilus' combat capabilities. \n\n\"I am Nilus, of Olympus. I hath no magic to speak of but there is strength within me yet... Now former Keyblade Master. Prepare thyself, for I need no prep time.\" \n\n```Bonus Action - Valor Form LVL5```\nNilus would then summon two keyblades to his side, gripping them both tightly as he made a running charge to Otoka before following through with a Cross-Slash that would horizontally strike across Otoka's chest unless he protected himself. \n\n```Turn 1 - \nCross-Slash - 2315dmg\nHP=6300\nAP=420-50=370\n\n\nAttack Haste 1/5\nAttack Upgrade 1/5```" }, { "author": "Otoka, Ex-Keyblade Master", "message": "Otoka flexed his biceps and formed an X in front of himself with his arms to guard his chest. He took Nilus's attack head-on and was barely pushed back by the attack.\n\n\"Bold and powerful, with the readiness to attack under a moment's notice. \"\n\nThe cross slash across his arms hardly left a scratch. It was almost as if the man in front of him were wearing a full suit of armor whilst unarmed.\n\n\"Good. That'll do nicely.\"\n\nOtoka relaxed his stance and dusted off his arms." }, { "author": "Xion Kirisame", "message": "\"Hmm... While I Do Enjoy showing off, I'd rather not attack you. While I don't expect you to be unable to take it, I kinda tend to bring the heat... Literally... Light, Dark and Fire are my primary elements. I don't think you'd appreciate your beard being singed. I know guys can be weird about their beards.\nI can throw out a nuke at the horizon though. Also don't mind my usage of darkness. I usually balance it out by using light more often. Though my likely greatest output won't be used against Pira. I feel like using Darkness against someone who is basically Darkness itself would be a terrible idea. Would you like to see my three separate outputs depending on my form?\"" }, { "author": "Otoka, Ex-Keyblade Master", "message": "\"In that case, use what you would against Pira. I don't need to see what isn't relevant.\"" }, { "author": "Xion Kirisame", "message": "\"Then do you mind if I pull a random Heartless from the Realm of Darkness to demonstrate properly? Doesn't really work without a dark heart to go against.\"" }, { "author": "Otoka, Ex-Keyblade Master", "message": "Otoka raised an eyebrow.\n\n\"If its that much trouble, your explanation will simply do.\"" }, { "author": "Dado", "message": "\"Xion, What?\" Did she just contemplate summoning a Heartless?\n\n\"I... Come on. Summoning Heartless? Really?\" How stupid is she?" }, { "author": "Xion Kirisame", "message": "\"I wasn't going to Summon One. I don't even think it's possible to do that without being super aligned with Darkness. I was just going to go in, grab the first weakling Shadow I could find, drag it out and then immediately proceed to blow it up.\"" }, { "author": "Dado", "message": "Wow. She really is that stupid. He does his best to maintain composure.\n\n\"That seems like something that could very easily horribly backfire.\"" }, { "author": "Xion Kirisame", "message": "Xion blinks for a moment then playfully knocks on her own head like she's an idiot \"I guess it probably could, yeah. I sorta just wanted to show off what I would be doing for Master Otoka and I couldn't do that properly without something Dark around.\"" }, { "author": "Gursht", "message": "The dinosaur suddenly spoke up.\n\n\"...What if Xion-friend hit Gursht instead? Gursht is not a heartless... But Gursht does better when he is hit first - and Gursht would also like to try his new helmet.\" He offered, standing up from his spot." }, { "author": "Dado", "message": "Dado eyes the styracosaurus. He's inexperienced. Xion's stupidly powerful. She could potentially kill him.\n\nShe could also potentially not put a dent in him. And these are evaluations.\n\nHe glances at Otoka, waiting for his opinion." }, { "author": "Otoka, Ex-Keyblade Master", "message": "\"No. We won't be bringing any heartless here. Your desire to \"Show off\", as you put it, with what you've stated prior, has already told me enough.\"\n\nHe crossed his arms again. A reckless showboat mage... Who is also the suspect of being a traitor or sleeper agent. Yeah. He didn't need to know anything else.\n\n\"Also, using yourself won't be necessary Gursht. Likely, Xion here has a magic that is effective against the darkness. Using it against you would be just as effective as using it against myself.\"" }, { "author": "Nilus", "message": "Nilus steps forward in aid of Gursht who wished to have a partner to test his might against. \n\n\"If Gursht wishes for someone to practice against, I'd be willing to help. We've sparred before and I know he is capable of defending himself against my strikes.\" \n\nOf course, if this was not necessary then all was well and good but Nilus wished to help out one of his friends with proving his might if he could. Proving your strength was an important task in team building." }, { "author": "Otoka, Ex-Keyblade Master", "message": "\"An excellent suggestion Nilus. If any of you wished to spar amongst yourselves, feel free. Although...\"\n\nHe glanced at Dado, having noticed him shiver earlier.\n\n\"I fear time may be running short. The worlds themselves are starting to fight back against the coalescing darkness. A few back and forths would likely suffice.\"\n\nHe looked to Eve, the last present who has not gone..." }, { "author": "Xion Kirisame", "message": "Xion nods at Otoka's response \"Admittedly the Heartless idea was pretty stupid. Very well then.\" She says as she lazily creates two different magics in her hands. One of Light and Fire, her Starfall, and another of Light and Dark, her Orb and then sorta seems to be attempting to create a third one of Fire and Dark... This could be ugly if she's not careful... Her experimental magic tends to be rather... Volatile..." }, { "author": "Eve Albrite", "message": "Eve gets up and cracks her neck \"That all, old timer? Just show off my full power? Well you fuckin got it!\" And so she immediately straps on her newly revamped shotgun gauntlets and then proceeds to take some false attacks against Otoka, pulling her punches at the last second until she hits max stax on Combo Boost and STTB until finally... FINALLY! She gets to use her Limit Break... Just before doing so, she enters her Valor Form. The 100-Type Guanyin Bodhitsattva... A giant fucking golden buddha emerges from absolutely fucking nowhere before it proceeds to punch Otoka innumerable times in the span of a second. What the hell, Eve!?\n`Turns... 4... I think?\nAP: 25%\nLimit Break: 100-Type Guanyin Bodhitsattva: 1445 Str`" }, { "author": "Otoka, Ex-Keyblade Master", "message": "Otoka stood steady and simply crossed his arms. Each punch sounded as though it collided with solid steel. When the golden buddah subsided, Otoka was left standing in the same spot in the same pose, without a single scratch.\n\n\"A bit of build up time, to get a strike with a bit of oomph. However, I assure you, miss, the vulgarity is not required.\"\n\nHe flicked a speck off his shoulder before he continued.\n\n\"You should lean into your strengths. Its obvious to see that you aren't exactly fighting at full potential. However, that just means you have room to grow.\"" }, { "author": "rykazuchi", "message": "If anyone has anything to comment on from his responses, before he moves on." }, { "author": "Eve Albrite", "message": "\"Yeah well, I work with what I got. And what I got doesn't work for jack with speedy types such as myself.\" She says bluntly, more annoyed by the lack of speed support ~~also my inability to think of something for her as a custom~~ than him" }, { "author": "Dado", "message": "Dado walks back over, sits back where he was sitting before evaluations." }, { "author": "Xion Kirisame", "message": "Xion just cracks open her book again and continues reading right from where she left off" }, { "author": "Gursht", "message": "Gursht lagged a little behind the others... It was hard to tell what he was thinking, but maybe that was more to do with him being a dinosaur than anything else." }, { "author": "Cavall", "message": "Cavall hadn't moved; When it had looked like the others had all gotten up to do their own things, they had simply closed his eyes. Now that it seems people are returning, however, Cavall looks to everyone else before glancing toward Gursht— And then Dado.\n\nThis strangle silence was saying a lot." }, { "author": "Otoka, Ex-Keyblade Master", "message": "Otoka returned with the rest. He stepped up to the front of the tower and turned around to look at everyone. He crossed his arms before he spoke out.\n\n\"It's going to be rough. And we are certainly running out of time. However, I have faith in each of your individual strengths.\"\n\nThe old man put his hand in his pocket and pulled out a small bag that had some weight to it. Otoka reached into the bag and pulled out what looked like a few shining stones, before tossing one to each person, in which it would float in front of them, waiting for them to each interact with it individually.\n\n\"These special stones will grant each and every one of you a special power that is granted to the Guardians of Light. During the battle with Pira, you may call on this power once and only once. On a successful return, those of you whom do not hold the title of Guardian... We will see about making it official.\"\n\nFrom all he had heard, Mod was severely lacking in the Guardian of Light recruitment department. Two, Dado and the now deceased \"Ikazuchi\", leaving one.\n\n\"I will go check on Aria now so that you all may speak strategy. Dado, if you would accompany me up the tower.\"\n\nHe turned and opened the door to the tower, before heading in." }, { "author": "Information", "message": "Everyone who is a part of this meeting, who is not already a Guardian of Light, gets a one-time use of the Guardian's Light Phase 2 variant during the End of The World event.\n\nSpecial note: If it goes unused, it will disappear after the event ends." }, { "author": "Dado", "message": "Dado takes the stone in the palm of his hand. It doesn't feel particularly special, but hopefully he can find some use for it.\n\nHe nods, then walks behind Otoka into the tower." }, { "author": "Xion Kirisame", "message": "Xion plucks the stone out of the air before snapping her book shut and going into the tower behind Dado and Otoka. Not to bother them but moreso just to peruse the library for history books. She rather enjoys history. Hell, maybe there's something in there about Pira. She seems old enough to be considered history" }, { "author": "Gursht", "message": "Gursht sniffed the stone; thumping his tail, twice... Then grabbing it with his beak. It disappeared somewhere in his inventory, though he didn't say anything else on the matter." }, { "author": "Cavall", "message": "\"Strange, is it not?\" Cavall's voice pierces through the silence hanging about the open field, their gaze turning up toward the tower, \"That they come and go like that. Just what do you think they're talking about behind those closed doors?\"" }, { "author": "Gursht", "message": "Gursht snorted, laying down on the grass. \"Whatever they want. A lot of Humans seem to think they know everything, whatever they think is right - so it must be so.\"" }, { "author": "Cavall", "message": "\"Did they ever... Explain what a Guardian of Light is?\" Cavall chimes with some interest, turning the gemstone about in his hand, \"We fear we weren't here for the start of this discussion.\" \n\n\"We know that we are gathering able bodies to strike back against an agent of darkness, this Pira, but beyond,\" The Hound's voice hitches as his ears rise in alertness, but they continue smoothly with a look far away, into the starry distance, \"That, we are most unfortunately unaware.\"\n\nThe stars were shifting. A connection was being made.\n\n\"Hm. What forces must be in play, to so easily rouse the cosmos.\"" }, { "author": "Gursht", "message": "The dinosaur shook his head, \"No, they did not tell Gursht what that was. Only what Heartless were, abd thst too many cause endings... Gursht has seen the end before, Gursht does not want others to see it. All Gursht knows is that he must try to help.\"\n\nGursht looked to look at the sky after Cavall's last comment. \"Gursht does not like they way the stars move, they moved like that before the fire rained and forests burned.\"" }, { "author": "Nilus", "message": "Nilus had spent the time whilst Otoka and Dado were away practicing his movements with the keyblade by himself. It was almost time for their battle and he wanted to ensure he had got all the practice necessary with this keyblade of his. \n\nThat did not mean however, he was not listening to the conversation between Gursht and Cavall. When the Hound mentioned the Guardians of Light, Nilus halted his movements with the keyblade, flipping the weapon to face downwards and began to lean on it before facing Gursht and Cavall. \n\n\"Master Aria claimed the Guardians of Light ensured a balance between Light and Darkness... And Dado mentioned one of his duties was sealing World Keyholes to keep them safe.\" \n\nNilus would return to his practicing, trying to figure out these movements that Dado had tried to teach him. \n\n\"Stability and safety across worlds is a worthy goal.\"" }, { "author": "Gursht", "message": "Gursht suddenly roared before quickly getting to his feet - his instincts were telling him that something was very wrong. Animals felt anxious when disaster was about to strike, regardless if they could comprehend exactly what was coming... And the dinosaur certainly was no exception." }, { "author": "Nilus", "message": "Nilus immediately notices his friend roaring! Who wouldn't? It was incredibly loud. Just what was up with Gursht? Nilus had only really known Gursht to roar during combat, he gave the occasional grunt or thump with his tail but roaring like that was a rare occasion. \n\n\"Something the matter Gursht? Thou didnst eat the wrong leaf, didst thy?\"" }, { "author": "Cavall", "message": "Silent as Gursht roars out, Cavall moves to stand, a hand held to the hilt of his sword as he looks around. What was this? They understood _what_ was happening, to a degree, but the magnitude was unheard of.\n\n\"We feel it too. The stars are falling— All of them.\" Sobered, the hound shakes his head. Gaze drifting over to Nilus, Cavall seems momentarily displeased. \n\nA slight nod of the head, and they answer, \"It is time for war.\"" }, { "author": "Dado", "message": "Dado runs outside, eyes wide.\n\n\"Everyone packed? Everyone ready?\" He runs to each person and hands an Elixir to them.\n\n\"We need to go. Master Aria and Otoka have decided all of you are well-enough prepared to come with. Let's go, let's go!\"" }, { "author": "Nilus", "message": "Unlike the other two, Nilus could not \"Feel\" The end happening. He could not sense this darkness that was seeping itself into every world. What he could feel however, was dread, fear and an uneasiness in his stomach as the Hound said the word, War. \n\nThe hound said the \"Stars are falling\". Did that mean what Nilus thought it might mean? He thinks to Olympus, his home. He didn't have the knowledge or skills necessary to save it and as a result... Well, he didn't want to think about what was happening there right now. \n\nHis thoughts of sorrow were interrupted by Dado returning once again, snapping Nilus out of it. He gripped Fenrir in his hand until his knuckles went white. \n\n\"Ready.\"" }, { "author": "Gursht", "message": "Gursht didn't reply in human words; instead, stomping his foot once, swinging his head twice, and his tail thrice.\n\nOh, yeah - he's ready." }, { "author": "Nilus", "message": "Nilus stepped to his close friend and ally, Gursht. If he was to join them in this battle then Nilus wished him to have some protection. \n\n\"Gursht. Here. I picked these up in my last fighting with these \"Heartless\". It should provide thy some protection against the Darkness.\" \n\nNilus would then offer Gursht a Dark Ring as a gift. He had a lot of faith in Gursht's combat effectiveness but he still wanted his friend to remain safe." }, { "author": "Gursht", "message": "Gursht looked at the offering... Before gently hooking it onto his horn; he appreciated the help." }, { "author": "Cavall", "message": "\"We had hoped for the strategy meeting that had been promised, but we shan't be afforded the time.\" Cavall says lightly, before stepping in time with the rest of the group, \"We cannot say we are entirely prepared, but we will go wherever we are needed.\"" }, { "author": "Dado", "message": "\"I'm sorry, Cavall. Here, uhhh...\"\n\nDado takes a deep breath, then begins speaking at max speed. \"I'm a mixed mage, I run heals, defense, and light. When it's necessary, I'll fill any role in a fight.\"\n\nHe begins pacing in-time. \"Xion's just a nuke. That's it; that's her gimmick. If she says get out the way, then you better not stay in it.\"\n\nEthereal bongos begin playing a polyrhythm behind his head. \"Eve's close range. She gets in and goes hard. Keep her healed, 'cause she hasn't got any magic in her Heart.\"\n\n\"You're our shining shield; in Xion's words: you're a beast. If you see a strong attack, it's up to you to make it cease.\"\n\n\"Nilus, holy crap. You hit like a freaking truck. If you can use your strength to clash, our opponents'll be fucked.\"\n\n\"Gursht's our last ally, he says he headbutts things. With his size, he can make even Behemoths lose their swing.\"\n\n\"Pira is the enemy, master of the heartless. Xion, I swear to Mod, don't use any darkness.\"\n\n\"'Possessed our friend, Suke, once. Cavall, I hope you're ready. If someone gets like Sapphire, we'll try and hold 'em steady. You'll go in their Heart with those wings and knock 'em dead; we'll keep you safe until you're up out of their head.\"\n\nHe summons Kingdom Key. \"Our goal's to seal the Door to Darkness using Kingdom Key. If we come across the door, try to clear a path for me.\"\n\nThe bongos stop playing.\n\n\"Any questions?\"" }, { "author": "Cavall", "message": "\"That is not, quite, the definition of a strategy meeting, boy, but we are not afforded the time to strategize nor discuss much. Thank you for the compliments, but we really should be on our way.\"\n\nCavall pauses at the foot of the pathway out of the garden, and looks back, \"Are we all taking your ship, or are we to use our own means to get there? It would be cramped, we think.\"" }, { "author": "Narrator", "message": "Just as Cavall asks the question, a dark portal appears over the Tower." }, { "author": "Dado", "message": "\"I'd assume that's our way in.\" He throws Kingdom Key into the air. It boomerangs back, formchanged into his trick scooter glider.\n\nJust as it's about to hit his leg, he steps sideways and grabs the handle, silver cat-eared armor forming around him as he does. He spins horizontally with his mount in a combined raid for a moment, stalls, then accelerates upwards into the portal." }, { "author": "Nilus", "message": "Nilus was quite stunned. He had no idea Dado had such lyricism and rhythm. Had he trained before? It was amazing! \n\n\"Bravo Dado, Bravo! Thou must perform for us during the victory ceremony, once we return from battle.\" \n\nJust as Nilus was complimenting Dado's exceptional work, the dark portal over the tower appears, signaling the beginning of their battle. Nilus follows suit after Dado and formchanges his own Keyblade into a Glider that looks very similar to the Chariots back home. He steps onto his new Glider and follows suit upwards into the Unknown..." }, { "author": "Gursht", "message": "Gursht huffed, a swarm of ants marching across his body; forming into chitinous plates until it resembled insectoid armor plating.\n\nThe back plates opened up into wings, and they buzzed and lifted Gursht up off the ground... At first gently, then suddenly as he rocketed upwards with a loud boom of wind and noise. Gursht followed suit in a fashion that was somehow - both as bumbly and as gracefully - as the beetle his armor was modeled after." }, { "author": "Cavall", "message": "Cavall holds up a finger as their question goes unanswered before the elastic in his body visibly sags with a disappointed, 'womp.' Looking around the scene, Cavall can only look Xion's way before sighing.\n\n\"Keyblade wielders... Always leaving us behind, to figure things out on our lonesome.\" He murmurs as if it didn't truly bother him, and more to just put that thought out there as the others speed off through the portal.\n\n\"Apologies, Boko can only seat one.\" Cavall says with a polite bow to whoever remained before putting a pair of fingers to his mouth and whistles— A long, shrill note.\n\nA shadow slowly forms over the toon's head; Pausing to look up, Cavall takes a step backward to get out of the way. Unfortunately, the massive, crushing figure still lands on the bullseye that is the hound, disconnected from its shadow.\n\n'Kweh!' From beneath the fat chocobo, a dinner-plate-shaped, cockroach-like Cavall rattles and skitters free atop his fingertips.\n\nBrushing himself off not a moment later, the hound sits astride their noble steed, striking a gallant figure as they take up the reins. The pair share a look, as the hound murmurs and feeds the chocobo a Green for its trouble.\n\nA moment later and they're off, the bird panting and chirping in pathetic exertion as it flaps its wings, slowly but surely inching toward the portal at a snail's pace." }, { "author": "Ranoa Hiros", "message": "Ranoa stands on some grass a little ways away from the tower in a clearing. He holds his keyblade in a tight grip, staring straight ahead as to only focus this very moment and not anything else that had been attacking his mind recently. He'd been able to sleep, but a full night wont cut it. He needs to get stronger. The atmosphere isnt great, especially after the devastating loss added onto the list of failures he already carries. No thoughts should be allowed to pass through, beyond enough required to cast spells.\n\nHe raises his keyblade, pointing it to the sky as a moderately sized fireball swirls at the tip.\n\n\"Burn.\"\n\nAnd with that, the ball of flame is shot into the sky. As to avoid any damage to the area, he quickly swings the key to ward off any remaining heat. Following this would be a ball of water around the same size, swirling at a violent speed.\n\n\"Extinguish it!\"\n\nSoon following, the ball of water is shot into the sky. It clashes against the now-dropping fireball, before being extinguished fully. The remaining water rains back onto the grass, giving each blade effected an uncomfortably warm drink.\n\n```\nFira, 1/3\nWatera, 1/3```\n\nOnce more, he swings the keyblade to steady himself and repeat the process. Raising the blade, he allows agitation to get the better of him. The sphere of flame wont grow as powerful as he wants it to. This time, he takes a twohanded grip- Near Painfully squeezing the hilt of the blade. The ball of flame grows a little more, before being fired off like the one before.\n\nFollowed by another quick flourish, he points the tip of the key at the fireball again as another mass of water swirls into existance. Soon being fired off at the heated sphere. It results in another clash, showering the vegetation even further.\n\n```\nFira, 2/3\nWatera, 2/3```\n\nMore. More! It's not enough. It's still too weak to do anything meaningful! He's Still too weak! This much just will not cut it.\n\nPlanting his feet into the ground, he raises his key a little higher into the sky. A mass of flame even larger than the ones before would form, using his insecurity and anger as fuel. It's almost too strong to handle, some of the heat moving into the key itself as opposed to the outside. \n\n\"Ow!\"\n\nHis focus is broken, firing the unstable ball of flame into the sky as his hand is met with a sizzling hot handle of the key. He drops it, almost forgetting that he had just casted a spell into the sky. If it were to land, it would damage the surroundings. Clutching his hand, he looks back into the sky to see a sizable fireball coming back down- the size being a little bigger than a large beach ball.\n\nRanoa forces himself to remove his uninjured hand from the newly burnt one, a ball of water forming around it. This, too, uses undesirable emotions for fuel. It's stronger, but less pure.\n\nThe matching ball of water is thrown at the fireball, meeting and raining even hotter water onto the grass. It's not burnt, but it would definitely taste bitter to the greenery.\n\n```\nFira, 3/3\nWatera, 3/3```\n\nThe moment the issue is dealt with, he finds himself clutching his hand again. It hurts. He walks over to one of the larger trees, leaving his keyblade out in the grass to cool off on its own as he nurses the wound.\n\nHe breaths in sharply, before breathing back out. \"Why can't anything ever go right?\"\n\nA question that not only applies to the recent spells, but to everything so far. Ever since leaving Twilight town, almost everything for him has gone poorly.\n\n\".. I'm sick of it.\" He mutters under his breath, moving his uninjured hand to hover over the other as a green glow emits from it. A small dose of ``Cure`` is administered, before he drops down to the ground. He leans on a tree afterward, looking into the sky. The agitiation is still there, but slowly calming at his own pace." }, { "author": "Lirio Dust", "message": "After reading for a good while, he goes outside to take a breath of fresh air, apparently master otoka and cavall havent ended their reunion yet, which is kinda worrying...\n\nOutside he finds ranoa clearly being agitated, so he gets closer to check on him\n\n\"Hey ranoa, is everything okay?\"" }, { "author": "Ranoa Hiros", "message": "He glances over to lirio, still holding the mildly burnt hand. The pain is mostly subsided, just aching a little at this point.\n\nHis expression softens a little as he forces himself to calm down. Its not right to be angry at others for his own problems.\n\n\"Yeah, Lirio. I'm fine. Just tired from everything going on lately.\"\n\nHe continues to sit against the tree, his head having turned to face lirio. The keyblade continues to rest in the grass a few feet away from ranoa, having not bothered to pick it back up." }, { "author": "Lirio Dust", "message": "\"Need some healing? You like a bit in pain...\"\n\nHe sits aside him, facing the tower\n\n\"What do you think of this whole situation..?\"" }, { "author": "Ranoa Hiros", "message": "He watches lirio sit next to him, before leaning back further onto the tree and looking into the sky with a small frown.\n\n\"Im fine. I dont want to use magic for every little thing.\"\n\nThen, to the bigger question.\n\n\"..I think things are bad. Awful, even. If the worlds are under attack, then it means a lot of people are dying. We're just sitting on our hands while Master Otoka and Sir Cavall form up a strategy.\"\n\nHe sounds exasperated with being unable to take any action, his eyes narrowing in frustration.\n\n\"And i know its not their fault that we're stuck here for the time being. Its not safe to leave, and they arent Forcing Us to stay. I just wish there were more i could do.\"" }, { "author": "Lirio Dust", "message": "\"I dont think you should get stressed right now, none of us should.. Yeah things are bad, but we can still fix this mess, we just need time to regroup and come up with a plan\"\n\nHe said with an strangely determined voice tone\n\n\"I dont know how many worlds you sealed and so how many of them are safe to go to, but at least this one is safe, you knew most of the people that went there to fight... Pira was the name? Do you have a gummiphone? Maybe you can contact them and tell them to come here... And that made me think... Remember that ship that just leaved the place a while ago? Do you know whose ship was that?\"" }, { "author": "Ranoa Hiros", "message": "He raises an eyebrow at the suggestion to avoid being stressed. If it were that easy, he'd have done so already- but it's nice to see that someone is being more optimistic here instead of just using bravado to Seem Optimistic.\n\n\"I hope so. I really do hope we can fix this situation.\"\n\nThen, he tilts his head at the suggestion to use the gummi-phone.\n\n\"Funnily enough, most of the people on my contact list are here already. There's sapphire, too, but i havent really seen her in a while. Ikazuchi and dado are... Yeah.\"\n\nRegardless of the down-sounding statement, he does reach into his coat-pocket and pull out a phone. Beginning to swipe through it, he responds to lirio's other question.\n\n\"And no- I dont know who's ship it was. It took off too fast for me to be able to tell.\"" }, { "author": "Lirio Dust", "message": "\"Think about it this way, if you're stressed or not, you cant save the worlds right now, so why being stressed if that wont change the situation? Of course we have to get ready and help making a plan if possible, but we have to keep our head cold, you never think correctly when you're on an emotional rush..\"\n\n\"And about that sapphire you mentioned, if you think she's trustworthy and could help i suggest you call her anyway, currently we will need as much hands as we could possibly have...\"\n\nHe then notices ranoas key just laying on the ground and points at it\n\n\"Why is it there?\"" }, { "author": "Ranoa Hiros", "message": "With a few more taps to the phone's screen, he rests his arm to look back at lirio.\n\n\"Maybe. It's just difficult to stay calm.\"\n\nThen, he notices lirio pointing at the keyblade.\n\n\"I'm giving it some time to cool off. The handle got too hot earlier when i was practicing some fire spells.\"" }, { "author": "Lirio Dust", "message": "\"Its temperature doesnt change when its unsummoned? Ill note that... And wait, the spells tendnto come out from the hit of the key, how did it hit the handle?\"\n\nHe said to then grab ranoas keyblade\n\n\"Hey if something, its cool enough to grab it now\"" }, { "author": "Ranoa Hiros", "message": "He seems a little embarrassed at the first question, responding while staring at the key.\n\n\"Usually, it doesnt hit the handle. I was just being sloppy.\"\n\n\"And yeah, it's been laying there for a little while. Magic usually runs out by now when it's cast.\"" }, { "author": "Lirio Dust", "message": "\"Hm... Wanna have a little spar then? I still need to practice fighting, i dont wanna risk much after what happened today, i thank you and the others for protecting me but, i dont wanna be a burden in the future\"\n\nHe said then putting ranoa's key next to him" }, { "author": "Ranoa Hiros", "message": "He seems a little suprised at the offer, but soon nods.\n\n\"Thats ine with me. Im pretty interested in seeing what you can do.\"\n\nHe sends one last text to sapphire, before putting the phone back in his coat and picking up the key. Its followed by walking across the area, to give lirio some space to prepare.\n\n\"Do you want to use our actual weapons, or something else? Theres plenty of sticks around here.\"\n\nHe chuckles at the idea of fighting with a stick, but its an option." }, { "author": "Lirio Dust", "message": "\"I could try with a stick if you want, tho i broke one trying to learn something a few hours ago...\"\n\n\"I trust this blades but im scared we could go over the top and damage the other too much so, maybe sticks?\"" }, { "author": "Ranoa Hiros", "message": "He shrugs, tossing his keyblade into the air as it dissolves into sunset-orange sparks. Following this, he takes a very short stroll to one of the tree's. Conveniently placed sticks can be seen underneath, before ranoa picks up two of the most sturdy looking ones. They arent the perfect sticks, but they work.\n\nHe places his in his left hand, before taking some steps back to his prior position and tossing the other one to lirio. Both are of similar shape and size." }, { "author": "Information", "message": "___Stick___\nPractice Weapon\nTier 0\nSTR, 1.5x\nDEF, 1.5x\nMAG, 1.5x\nSPD, 1.5x" }, { "author": "Lirio Dust", "message": "He grabs the stick and does a little reverence to ranoa\n\n\"Always show respect to your oponents before a spar... You go first?\"" }, { "author": "Ranoa Hiros", "message": "He nods, Flourishing the stick as though it were a blade with a quick flick of the wrist.\n\n\"If you're sure you dont want to go first, then i'll oblige.\"" }, { "author": "Information", "message": "Information! The first one to forfeit, or reach 1 HP, will lose. You cannot drop below 1 in this battle, so you may use any ability or form you wish.\n[Now playing](" }, { "author": "Ranoa Hiros", "message": "Ranoa quickly takes his Make-shift weapon into a twohanded grip, holding it forward and closing his eyes as light begins to surround his body and empower his abilities. A thin veil of light surrounds his body, before he abrubtly breaks the stance, sprinting after liriro and leaping into the air. He swings his weapon, firing off a small ball of fire at lirio- Before landing onto the ground and taking a low stance before pointing upward and firing off a small chunk of ice at him. He then takes a quick step back, pointing the stick at him as a thin beam of lightning falls down from above. \n\n\"You did pretty well back when we were fighting the heartless in that weird place. But can you beat me?\"\n\nOnce the combo is complete, he quickly hops back a few feet in order to give himself space.\n```HP: 6071\nAP: 230 -260 -235\nMP: 160 -190 -145\nPhase 0 \nDefenders Light LV4, -25 AP per turn\nLight's Radiance: Your light aura increases your Magic stat by 5% as long as the form is active.\nIsshin: Sonic Blade Uses left [2/2]\n\n\nAction 1: Fire, 204\nAction 2: Blizzard, 204\nAction 3: Thunder, 204\n\n[1/3 to unlock Kasumi]\n\nBonus Action: Phase 0 Activated!\nBonus Action: Defenders Light Activated!```" }, { "author": "Lirio Dust", "message": "He quickly notices the attacks and gets to action, activaying defenders light and applying protect to himself to mitigate the fire, decides to take the bluzzard and then parry the thunder with a blast, then attacking him wirh a spinning attack\n\n``` HP: 3462 —3808 —>3528\nAP: 180 —190 —165\nMP: 160 —170 —140\n\nProtect: 144 + 10% = 158 mitigation, 46 dmg taken, -15 MP\n\nAir Flair: 111 dmg to ranoa, -10 AP\n\nRadial Blaster: 159 + 10% = 174 mitigation, 30 dmg taken, -15AP/-15MP```" }, { "author": "Ranoa Hiros", "message": "Quickly repeating the motions, ranoa once more raises his stick defensively- This time, surrounding himself in a wall of fire to ward off the physical attack.\n\n\"That's pretty good, Lirio!\" His mood seems to be improving a little bit, impressed by the quick reactions- Even if they dont fully stop his attacks.\n\nSoon following, he fires off multiple chunks of ice, soon accompanied by yet another blast of lightning. It's taking his mind off of the apocalypse, at least.\n\n```HP: 6071\nAP: 235 -210\nMP: 145 -95\nPhase 0 \nDefenders Light LV4, -25 AP per turn\nLight's Radiance: Your light aura increases your Magic stat by 5% as long as the form is active.\nIsshin: Sonic Blade Uses left [2/2]\n\n\nAction 1: Fire, 204 [Parry vs Air Flair, 93 sent back]\nAction 2: Blizzard, 204\nAction 3: Thunder, 204\n\n[2/3 to unlock Kasumi]\n\nBonus Action:\nBonus Action: ```" }, { "author": "Lirio Dust", "message": "Lirio once decides to go on the offense this time, using a dash to get closer with a slide and hit him with a charhed light attack, to then parry the thunder with a blast again\n\n```HP: 3528 —3231\nAP: 165 —>105\nMP: 170 —145\n\nSliding Dash: 116 + 10% = 127 dmg, -10 AP\n\nWishing Edge: 149 + 20% = 179 dmg, -20AP/-25MP\n\nRadial Blaster: 164 + 25 % = 205 mitigation, 1 dmg sent back to ranoa, -30 AP```" }, { "author": "Ranoa Hiros", "message": "He continues to weave fire and ice, forming repetitive motions until something just clicks inside of his brain. Why not apply this to other chained abilities, too? It's functionally the same- Just better.\n\nHe's too caught up in thought of skillls to notice lirio closing in, being smacked by the wishing edge from the stick.\n\"Ow!\"\nIt's not That* Bad, but it caught him off guard more than anything else.\n\nThe attack of lirio's is reciprocated by a cast of thunder, raining down sparks above the two.\n\n\n```HP: 6071 -5764\nAP: 210 -185\nMP: 95 -50\nPhase 0 \nDefenders Light LV4, -25 AP per turn\nLight's Radiance: Your light aura increases your Magic stat by 5% as long as the form is active.\nIsshin: Sonic Blade Uses left [2/2]\nKasumi: Reduces the cost of \"Shotlock\" Commands by 15.\n\nAction 1: Fire, 204 \nAction 2: Blizzard, 204\nAction 3: Thunder, 204\n\n[3/3 to unlock Kasumi, Kasumi unlocked]\n\nBonus Action:\nBonus Action: ```" }, { "author": "Lirio Dust", "message": "Lirio can feel a rush of energy in his body again, but this one was different than the previous ones.. He lets it flow again, and something diferent happens, he has a weird aura in his body and his magic feels significantly stronger... And he wanted to use that to his advantage\n\nHe uses Aero to mitigate the fireball, then a blast to parry the thunder and Aero for the blizzard\n\n´´´Spell Weaver activated!\nHP: 3231 —3228\nAP: 105 —75\nMP: 145 —100\n\nAero: 149 + 25% (SttB) + 5% (light´s radiance) +5% (spell weaver) = 201, 3 dmg taken, -15MP\n\nRadial Blaster: 169 + 30% (SttB) + 5% (light´s radiance) +5% (spell weaver) = 236, 32dmg sent back, -15AP/-15MP\n\nAero: 149 + 35% (SttB) + 5% (light´s radiance) +5% (spell weaver) = 216, fully mitigated,- 15 AP´´´" }, { "author": "Ranoa Hiros", "message": "Raising a brow at the sudden aura enveloping lirio, ranoa finds it to be time to start putting more effort into things. The dim aura surrounding his body suddenly flares up, a blinding light bursting out for a fleeting moment. It soon returns to form, compacting into just surrounding him.\n\n\"Getting into the flow of things? Good!\"\n\nWith each passing moment, the accumulated stress from the apocalypse melts away. If only for a little while. It feels good to just fight someone- Not with any risks, or stakes, but just for fun. It hadn't felt this way since before he left home.\n\n\"I wish i had some struggle gear here! It'd be a whole lot more fun if we could score points.\"\n\nHe soon backs away after being grazed, before leaping off the grass and spinning mid-air, with each swing of the stick firing off blasts of light at Lirio. Once he lands back onto the ground, he raises the stick overhead, rushing forward in a two-part slash in an attempt to knock his opponent off his feet.\n\n\n```HP: 5764 -5732\nAP: 185 -160 -140\nMP: 50\nDefenders Light LV4, -25 AP per turn\nLight's Radiance: Your light aura increases your Magic stat by 5% as long as the form is active.\nIsshin: Sonic Blade Uses left [0/2]\nKasumi: Reduces the cost of \"Shotlock\" Commands by 15.\n\nAction 1: Light Bloom, 347\nAction 2: Sonic Blade, 308\nAction 3: Sonic Blade, 308\n\nBonus Action:\nBonus Action: ```" }, { "author": "Lirio Dust", "message": "... Yeah this was not looking good, but he still had to act, he could feel another round of energy, so he activates it, now with his aura glowing a bit brighter and his magic feeling even stronger, this was usefull, but he still had to block the attacks\n\nHe uses 2 more aeros to block the sonic blades and a blast to block the bloom, tho still taking some damage from that\n\n´´´Blade Charge activated!\nHP: 3228 —3136\nAP: 75 —65\nMP: 100 —65\n\n\nAero: 159 + 40% (SttB) + 5% (light´s radiance) + 15% (Blade Charge) =269, 39 dmg taken, -15 MP\n\nAero: 164 +45% (SttB) +5% (light´s radiance) + 15% (Blade Charge) = 287, 21 dmg taken, -15MP\n\nRadial Blaster: 174 + 50% (SttB) +5% (light´s radiance) + 15% (blade charge) = 315, 32 dmg taken, -10AP/-15MP´´´" }, { "author": "Ranoa Hiros", "message": "Using a magical barrier to smack away the aeros, ranoa is grazed by the radial blaster as he steps back away from the fight and raises his arms.\n\n\"Alright, alright. Thats enough of that.\"\n\nHe had to admit, lirio was definitely getting better than the last time he had saw him back at the.. Situation.\n\nNevertheless, that was enough.\n\n\"I haven't just fought for fun since... Hm. Probably before i left twilight town.\" He raises an arm, before hurling a stick in the oppisite direction against a tree. It hits, and loudly clatters to the grass below.\n\n\"Have you ever been, lirio?\"" }, { "author": "Lirio Dust", "message": "He leaves the stick on the ground and sits down to rest a bit\n\n\"Nope... I hadn't fought anything untill those things before, all what i knew about my keyblade was by pure trial and error at home, i gotta train and learn a lot here if i wanna actually be able to help out there..\"\n\n\"I didnt knew you were from twillight town, been there a few times, i met cavall there, i also met a... Really weird boy a few hours before the portals opened..\"" }, { "author": "Ranoa Hiros", "message": "He raises an eyebrow, looking up for a moment as he idly rests an arm on his hip... Thinking. Not usually the ranoa way.\n\nThen a quiet \"Hm.\"\n\n\"A red haired boy? Could you tell me a bit more? Like a name?\"\n\nTheres no way lirio would have just coincidentally found ikazuchi while he was off with the purple haired girl. Right?" }, { "author": "Lirio Dust", "message": "\"Yeah he had red hair but, he didnt told me a name cause... Okay ill just tell the whole thing cause this is weird\"\n\nHe says to then stand up again\n\n\"A few hours before the portals opened i was at twillight town buying some supplies, when i saw this weird boy on the train station, he had red hair and was seemingly staring at nothing\"\n\n\"I ask them if everything was okay and if he was waiting for someone, he said he was fine, even tho he clearly had a severe case of amnesia... And he said a friend of his told him to just stay there and wait for her..\" \n\n\"I offered to look after her but before i went to look for said friend, but before that i asked about her appereance, he said she had purple hair and her name was... Suzuke i think? Or something similar to that..\"\n\nHe said to then take a small pause to breathe after all that\n\n\"Long story short, i asked him about his name, but before he could have told me, a big armor appeared out of nowhere, took him, said i'd never see them again and just leaved\"\n\n\"Tho... He did managed to say the first to letters of his name, \"IK\" \"\n\nHe layed down on the tree, it was a weird story but, this last few days have been really weird overall anyway" }, { "author": "Ranoa Hiros", "message": "He listens intently for a bit, before his eyes widen- a clearly suprised expression marking his face. He was waiting on a purple haired friend, and picked up by a suit of armor. Purple hair checks out. The suit of armor checks out. The first two letters check out- can it be any More Obvious?!\n\n\"We need to go talk to the master. Now!\"\n\nBeing too focused to elaborate further, he turns around and immediately makes a break for the door to the tower as quickly as possible, making it clear he wants lirio to follow." }, { "author": "Lirio Dust", "message": "He runs behind him with a but of urgency, being extremely confused about why is the thing he just said important but, at this rate, everything could happen so, questions for later\n\n\"Wait! What happened? Is that boy imoortant or something?\"" } ]	101	28,901
1,155.444444	1776-07-04	GuildPublicThread	[ { "author": "Duke Vasili Golitsin", "message": "\"PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE, I SWEAR, I'LL NEVER DO IT AGAIN, NEVER! NO MORE!\"\n\nGantrick was a cold and unforgiving place. The icy plains were pristine as they were brutal. There was no sound most of the time, just the biting wind, whistling as it whips past, and the sound of one's own footsteps, crunching in the snow. It's lonely, and it's uncomfortable, so the sight of civilisation is often welcome. But there are some who'd prefer to brave the possibility of a chilling grave in the wastes, frozen solid till eternity ends, than go on living in their conditions...\n\n\"PLEASE, I BEG, NO MOR- Augh\"\n\nSouthhallow Castle, an oppressive and mighty structure standing gale and unmoving against the forces of nature battering its walls day and night, overlooks a great estate of land. Swathes of it, riddled with farmlands protected from the cold by magical artefacts, lumber yards, mines for coal, metal, and more, as close to an industrial powerhouse one could get in an era like this. The walls surrounding it are mighty, but one can only clad them in stone for so long, and the size of the estate means only the castle itself has that luxury. The rest of the walls are heavily reinforced wooden structures, manned by guards clad in the purple colours of the Golitsin family \n\n\"Please, please, please, Gods please, make it stop, make it- AUGH\"\n\nWithin these walls, the pleading, wailing voice of a woman is cut off by the sound of a blow across her face, and her subsequent whimper. The noise carries in the silence of the plains, unmarred by any bystanders or onlookers who might cry out in protest. Only the sound her screeching, her pain, and the crack of a lash as it's rips down the flesh of her back, tearing it asunder with each strike, the whipping intermittently broken with a swift kick or punch\n_ _\n\nWere one to get a closer look, by circumventing the walls somehow, they'd find a young woman, kneeling in the stone, her hands shackled together and tied at a wooden post. One of the guards, leather whip in hand, was striking at the woman's back. Her shirt, barely hanging on, retained her modesty, though that was little consolation. Her exposed back was riddled with scars, both fresh and bleeding, as well as old and healed, from past whippings. Her protesting cries had dampened into haggard crying, her throat hoarse, barely chocking out the sobs as the shook\n\nThere were others around, but they paid it no heed. They kept to their work, never looking up, averting their gaze as they chopped at stacks of wood, or lugged sacks of barley about. Most winced with each blow, and each corresponding scream of pain. But as... Something Rose over the wall, they finally looked up, in amazement and fear" }, { "author": "Aria", "message": "Oh, how Aria despised this country. Partially, it was because she simply couldn't imagine why anyone would want to live here. The neverending cold was horrible, making any sort of travel through it quite literally hell. Sure, the land looked beautiful, and she could imagine that it could make for a good vacation, but as a place to live? If she ever were to settle down, this land was at the bottom of Aria's list.\n\nThe main reason why she hated it, though, was the slavery. It was a concept that she'd never been comfortable with, to enslave another sentient creature and make them do one's bidding, for what? Just because they happened to be of a certain species? It disgusted her. Really, if there was a country she wished to avoid at all costs, it was this one - not because she didn't want to help out, but because she couldn't. There were too many people enslaved here, too many suffering, and Aria was only one person, no matter how strong she was.\n\nIf it were up to her, she wouldn't be in this country right now. She would be somewhere warmer, somewhere that wasn't Gantrick. But it wasn't up to her. For the past few nights, her dreams had spoken of this country, and Aria interpreted those as a sign from her goddess that she had to go here and fight whatever injustice was going on. Of course, there was no way that she could know for certain that was asked of her, and perhaps the dreams were simply random, having nothing to do with Kamara at all. But if there was anything Aria was known for, it was her blind faith towards her goddess, so she had purchased a set of warm clothing to wear underneath her armor and departed to the cold, hellish land.\n_ _\n\nIt had been a couple of days since she'd arrived, and surprisingly enough, she'd been mostly left alone. Well, it wasn't all that surprising, to be fair. Her height, standing at 8 feet tall, her heavy armor that she wore without issue, the huge claymore strapped to her back in its scabbard, and her large wings, colored a white so pure that they almost looked like they were glowing, made it obvious to just about anyone that she wasn't to be messed with, and the few people that had tried to hurt her, had found that she was much faster than someone her size had any right to be and that her punches hit like a cannon fired straight into their most sensitive parts.\n\nAria had been travelling around at random, mostly on foot, as her heavy armor made flying fairly impractical, taking much more energy than it was worth. Usually, she would carry her helmet under her arm, but in this land, she'd decided to put it on, hiding her face from view. One might think her a particularly tall avian Shapeshifter, with her glowing eyes hidden - and perhaps that was the safest assumption to make, as it made it easier to leave her alone.\n\nAs she walked through the land surrounding Southhallow Castle, Aria glanced around the area, always vigilant. She was looking for a place to spend the night, trade her strength for a bite to eat and shelter to sleep in, but something caught her attention. Something that sounded an awful lot like screaming, begging for mercy, coming straight from the castle - a location she really hadn't wanted to go to, but it seemed like she had no choice.\n_ _\n\nThe Aasimar woman didn't waste a second. With a FWOOSH, she spread her wings, revealing an impressive wingspan that was longer than she was tall. Her right hand went to her claymore, unsheathing the weapon as she beat her wings, carrying her into the air in no time, leaving behind a couple of feathers drifting to the ground. Her gaze was focused on the source of the screaming, and in no time, she spotted it. A woman, hands tied to a wooden post, was being beaten violently by what appeared to be a guard. Likely a slave, it was a cruelty that she had witnessed many times here.\n\nFrom her vantage point in the sky, she noted the locations of the guards she could see, while extending her left hand, palm facing the woman and whispering a spell. Her hand glowed, and a moment later, a golden shield kind of like and upside-down bowl surrounded the woman, covering her entirely. It looked to be made of thin golden threads, tightly woven together in the shape of hexagons and pentagons, and one could still look through the gaps, but if one were to attempt to strike the woman again, either with whip or directly with their hands or boots, they would find that it was surprisingly sturdy for something that looked so fragile, and their attacks would likely just bounce off harmlessly.\n\nWith that taken care of, secure in the knowledge that the woman couldn't be harmed any more, Aria flew over to the place, her sabatons making a metallic CLUNK Sound as she landed between the woman and the guard, claymore held loosely in her right hand, the point resting on the ground for now. \"Cease your mistreatment of this woman this instant,\" She spoke, her voice stern and clear, loud enough to be audible to all the bystanders, but revealing her femininity, which had made many people underestimate her - always a huge mistake on their part.\n_ _\n\nStraightening her back and folding her wings, Aria looked down upon the guard, taking full advantage of her intimidating height. He was welcome to try and strike her - after all, what was a whip going to do against the full plate armor covering every part of her body? And, if he tried anything more than that, she wouldn't find it difficult to retaliate, her claymore had struck down many stronger foes than this guard." }, { "author": "Duke Vasili Golitsin", "message": "As Aria descended onto the snowfield, the guard who'd been beating the woman was taken aback. The shield had manifested mid-swing, expanding from nothingness and deflecting the blow, an ethereal glow encompassing the young slave. Though he was confused, the source of the spell soon became apparent, as an 8 foot tall Aasimar clad in full plate armour stepped in between him and his victim. All he could do was murmur in disbelief \n\nBut it wasn't a one on one standoff for long. The Duke's militia soon poured down off the walls and out of the castle in droves, blades drawn, charging down towards Aria, but taking no action yet. The commotion sent surrounding slaves running off back to their housing, a series of ramshackle huts full of bunk upon bunk, cramming as many as possible in for the lowest price. Soon, they assembled around her, looking to each other, unsure of what to do. All were imposing, most of them bear or wolf shifters, typically around 6' in height. But even they found themselves looking Up At Aria, and they knew full well she was better equipped than them \n\nBefore long, the back and forth of orders to release the girl and Aria's presumed stalwart refusal was interrupted. The terrified woman had turned slightly, her breathing rapid but her screaming subsided, hoarse, whispered thanks coming profusely from within the shield. But the thanks ceased, when the guards began looking backwards, before falling into rigid formation and then parting down the middle, now looking more as though they were par of a military parade than about to brawl\n\nAs the golden shimmer of the spell danced across the enforcer's reflective helmets, a man strolled down through the parting of his soldiers. Two more guards, far more heavily armoured and armed, walked behind him, and a man in simple yet expensive robes carrying a small case of some kind walked at his flank. Silence fell again, the wind scouring the walls beside them providing the only sound\n_ _\n\nThis man, though he didn't exactly look it, clearly commanded respect. It was odd, really, these grizzled veterans and killers clad in professional military garb and wielding mighty weapons, deferring to him. It wouldn't be unlikely that Aria might not see him at first, having to look down instead, and seeing Vasili Golitsin, Duke of Fallholt and Castellan of Southhallow. In spite of the cold he was clad in utmost finery, knee high socks, black buckled shoes with what looked to be a solid gold buckle each, and an inordinately large blouse to go with his waistcoat and overcoat, all of which matched the dark purple colouring of his guards, but also possessed golden inlay and buttoning \n\nHis hair was also inordinately large, extending well above his head and around it, brushed backwards and impeccable groomed, seeming both wild and uncouth yet dignified and cleanly, smooth, white, wispy curls, bouncing slightly in the wind. His face was similarly dichotomous, covered in makeup and seemingly well cared for, but marred on the edges and around his neck by what seemed to be a series of small scars, tint scratches and cracks spiderwebbing across his visage. His mouth opening into a smile, slowly, ominously, as his piercing yellowed eyes drilled into Aria - from almost four feet below her eyeline, that is \n\n\"Aah, an Aasimar! How delightful. I'm sure this is naught but a misunderstanding, eh? Please, release my property, and we can smooth this out over a hearty meal in my abode\"\n\nHis accent was thick, very thick, and slightly different to most of Gantrick, not that she was likely to recognise it. Though he smiled outwardly, were it anyone less interesting trespassing on his land and interfering with his business, they'd be swinging from a rope in Fallholt come nightfall. But, Aria Was Interesting - and also quite difficult to successfully hang, given her height and wings\n_ _\n\nIn the face of Aria being unresponsive (or simply not obeying fast enough), likely bemused at the size and appearance of the man before her, Vasili would speak again. This time, altogether... Different \n\n\"__𝔻𝕚𝕤𝕡𝕖𝕝 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕤𝕙𝕚𝕖𝕝𝕕__\"\n\nThe voice cut out all other sound, booming with unnatural power, overwhelming her senses. The world closed in, rhythmic humming growing to fever pitch as darkness pushed inward on her, on everything. She could hardly think, hardly see, hardly hear, and then... It was gone. With a resounding Woosh, everything came back. All was back to normal - except the shield was gone, and her hand was outstretched in the motion to do so. Vasili giggled slightly, the smile splitting his face wide once more\n\n\"Now that has been dealt with, let me introduce myself. I am Vasili Golitsin, Duke of Fallholt and Castellan of Southhallow\"\n\nAs they exchanged pleasantries, a guard stepped in behind Aria, quickly unshackling the poor slave girl, beginning to drag her away, off into the fields. As other guards dispersed back to their posts, barking orders at the labourers to resume their work, the Duke attempted to dissuade further conflict \n\n\"You - Aasimar, that is - worship, eh... Kamara, yes? Goddess of Justice, ah? Interesting the, that you would commit a crime with such flippancy, no? Worry not, I shan't report this, haha!That woman, loud and incessant as she may be, is not a person. She is my property. And I, or those in my employ, can do as they wish with My Property. Come, come! Let us discuss this inside, out of the cold!\"\n\nNot waiting for an answer, Vasili turned heel, the small black bow tied at the very base of his hair swinging slightly before settling again, and began marching back up to Southhallow. The castle was titanic in scale, evidently built for military usage not inhabitants originally. It was all sharp edges and blackened stone, archers stalking the parapets and servants bustling about within\n_ _" }, { "author": "Aria", "message": "Aria might have found the way she was surrounded somewhat threatening, if it weren't for the fact that they seemed to be more afraid of her than she was of them. Perhaps afraid was the wrong way to put it. In a fight, it was very likely that they would end up overwhelming her eventually, especially if she had to keep protecting this poor woman, which she was planning on doing. Likely, she hadn't even done anything wrong, and they were just making a show of beating her up to scare the other slaves.\n\nStill, if it were to come to that, she was more than certain that she would be able to take out plenty of them before they could even land a scratch on her - she had the advantage of her armor protecting her, the range of her massive claymore, her not so insignificant strength, and her spells that could protect her from harm. In fact, as her eyes scanned over the guards, she felt that this was a confrontation that she might even win. Her hand tightened around the grip of her claymore and she lifted the point off the ground just a little with ease despite its size, preparing herself for combat, if that happened.\n\nHowever, something strange happened. Of course, Aria refused to back off, she wasn't going to let these people hurt that woman anymore, that wasn't the strange thing. No, what happened instead was that some of the guards seemed to be looking back at someone approaching. Aria narrowed her eyes, watching as they stepped into their little formation. Was there someone coming to take her down? Even if the person approaching would manage to best her, she was certainly going to give them one hell of a fight, make them remember her.\n_ _\n\nBut the person that got closer wasn't at all what she was expecting. Sure, the guards were somewhat menacing, yet he was... Well, kind of pathetic. Half her size, making her bend her head downwards to look at him, he really wasn't all that impressive. His clothing was fancy, speaking of a noble that didn't know anything about fighting, the scarring around his face, which appeared to be mostly covered in makeup, gave the impression of someone that was - or had been - terribly ill and was trying to hide that, and his figure was the opposite of imposing.\n\nHowever, Aria was far from dumb. She could see the respect he commanded at a glance, how the guards seemed to revere him, perhaps even fear him, she suspected. Clearly, there was something about him that she couldn't see. She thought it likely that he commanded magical powers far greater than her own, and she wouldn't have been surprised if she were to get destroyed right then and there before she was able to do anything in response. Should she strike him down, before he could do anything to her? That smile of his was so very ominous... Yet, he hadn't done anything wrong yet, so Aria waited, keeping herself positioned between the slave woman and this strange man.\n\nShe remained quiet as he spoke up, finding his words equally as suspicious as his appearance. Aria only narrowed her eyes at him, hidden beneath her helmet. Something about him unsettled her to her core, and she thought it wise to remain quiet for now, let him play his cards. She didn't like the way he worded that. Property. As if another being belonged to him, like one might own a shirt, or a sword. It disgusted her, and she most certainly wasn't planning to do as he asked her to. Really, she was considering grabbing the poor thing and flying away, leaving her somewhere safe, far away from this land.\n_ _\n\nUnfortunately, it seemed that she was right about the small man. It seemed he did have access to some magic that Aria might have found impressive if it weren't just used against her. This feeling... It reminded her an awful lot of the panic attacks she suffered from occasionally, and Aria struggled to fight back against it, to keep herself in control, not give in to the power of this horrible man. She didn't have a chance to do so, though. It was already too late the moment she heard those words come from his lips.\n\nThe wild beating of her heart was the first sensation to return to her, and her breathing, unsteady and trembling, came back soon after. Aria realized she was holding out her hand - and it felt like an icy hand wrapped itself around her heart when she realized what she'd done. The shield was... Gone. Enchantment magic. Of course. She should have expected that, and set up wards to protect herself from it. Not doing so... It was a mistake. Tightening her jaw, Aria shot a glare at the tiny man, her hand lowering. If she were to make the shield again, he could just as easily make her get rid of it, and something about his actions just now, how easily he'd commanded her, made her feel like he was much more versed in the magic arts than she was. It was likely that even if she cast a protection spell, he would just get through it.\n\nWhat he said next, though, came entirely unexpectedly. An introduction? Her breathing was quick to steady herself as she listened to him speak in that thick accent. Should she introduce herself back? It would be polite, but Aria didn't care about politeness right now. She was more interested in keeping herself safe, which included keeping this person at an arm's length if at all possible. That didn't stop his next words from making her blood boil, though.\n_ _\n\n\"The law and justice are not always the same thing,\" Aria finally spoke up, her voice firm and stern. She would have wondered how he guessed the goddess she worshipped, if Kamara's emblem wasn't clearly shown on the pommel of her claymore, which she still held, refusing to sheathe it. Gods, how she despised how this man spoke of the woman. She watched as the poor thing was dragged off, desperately trying to resist the urge to fight the guards, grab her, and fly off.\n\nHowever, deep inside, Aria knew that she had messed up. What did she think to accomplish? Her actions might have saved this woman's life for now, but she was no doubt going to get hurt even worse soon, punished for Aria's actions - in trying to stop her fate, she might have just cemented it instead. Yet, was she supposed to just watch and do nothing? That was an impossibility as well. She had to do something, anything to help her, to right her mistake. Perhaps she could somehow convince Vasili to hand her over? That was going to require a lot of effort, he didn't seem like the kind of man to listen if she got emotional. No, she had to convince him another way, but she was going to do it, no matter what it took.\n\nThere was no way to convince him if she just let him leave, though. So, after a moment of deliberation, Aria followed behind him, noting the bow at the back of his hair. It looked kind of ridiculous, but she wasn't going to say that out loud. With his strides being half the size of hers, the Aasimar walked more slowly than she usually did - not that she minded, it gave her a good chance to look around, eyes examining the place without her turning her head. As she walked, she sheathed the claymore, putting the large weapon into its scabbard on her back. With enchantment magic like his, it wasn't going to do her much good anyway.\n_ _\n\nIf Aria was impressed with the place, she didn't show it. It was definitely fancy - not wholly unexpected - but she didn't care much for it. She never had. What did interest her somewhat were the pictures, likely family members from times long past. The one with the two people hanging from the gallows sent a shiver down her spine, and she quickly averted her gaze, focusing instead on Vasili, continuing to follow behind him, wherever he may lead her." }, { "author": "Duke Vasili Golitsin", "message": "As the Duke made his way through the winding stone corridors of Southhallow, each step Aria took amounting to about five of his, they occasionally passed by servants. Likely also slaves, but the vast majority were half-humans of some variety, specifically ones that heavily resembled either normal humans or a half-shifted shapeshifter. The reason was obvious, they were somehow more than their 'leaders' due to resemblance to Shapeshifters. They too were deeply conditioned by brutality, barely even looking up at Aria as they passed, too afraid it might cause offence and have them out in the cold, tied to a post - or worse, tied to a noose\n\nThe stark contrast in lifestyle, even for the short time Aria had been here, was painfully evident. Outside, even in warm attire, it was cold. The slaves working those fields were in rags, barely enough to clothe oneself properly in temperate climates let alone here. Yet within these walls, a roaring fireplace crackled and sparked in seemingly every room they passed, and it was suffused with an aura of luxury and warmth - yet made colder by the knowledge of what was sacrificed to attain it \n\nEventually, they reached another large set of doors, smaller than the entrance but still impressive, which revealed a large dining area. The table was long, with only two seats pulled out, one at each side. At the head, a veritable throne, complete with built in cushioning and ornate designs of all kinds, directly in front of a large fire, above which hung a hulking portrait of Vasili. At the foot of the table, a simpler chair, though still far more superfluously designed than the average stool. The implication was clear, but first Vasili stopped in the doorway. Turning back to Aria, he, unprompted, took her hand in his\n_ _\n\n\"Oh, I almost forgot. Worry not for that young girl - she shall live. I am stern, not wasteful, haha! She'll be in working condition by next week, I can assure you\" \n\nWith a smile meant to be reassuring (or was he just trying to get a rise from her?), Vasili patted her hand with his free one, before releasing her, and walking over the head of the table. The chair was the same height as all the rest, and at its side was a small stool, which Vasili stepped up onto before seating himself. He smiled across the table as the doors swung closed and silence resumed, save for the rumbling fire and the faint, muffled sound of the wind, barely audible from within the castle\n\nThe room was clearly a sort of centrepiece, with a mighty golden chandelier above them, suspended from the ceiling. Animal heads were mounted all across the wall, deer, reindeer, bears of all kinds, and more, ranging from the smallest to the largest of creatures. Marble busts of Golitsin family members also lined the walls, seated on pedestals, Vasili's being directly behind Aria's seat\n\n\"Now we're out of the cold, we can both think with more level heads, hm? Though I well could, I shall not take the matter of your outburst so far as to involve the authorities. It was a misunderstanding, nothing more, no?\"\n\nNot even giving her a moment to confirm or deny this, Vasili continued, as a smaller set of doors swung open and more servants hurried out, plates, glasses, and cutlery in hand, and began to set the table. Vasili's meal had doubtless begun preparations hours ago, and was accompanied by a glass of fine wine, and an unnecessary quantity and variety of utensils - all of which seemed to be golden. Aria's spread was more... Ramshackle. Still by no means a poor meal, yet diminished in contrast to his. Everything here seemed purpose made to incite a feeling of uncomfortable jealousy, despite the fact that Aria had no good reason to be jealous of the Duke \n_ _\n\n\"Ah! Perfect, our refreshments. I do so hope you find it satisfactory, your meal was more last minute than mine\"\n\nThe wait staff had that same expression as all the others did, blank, emotionless, never looking st anyone, deferring their gaze to the floor whenever possible, looking downwards with their hands clasped as they practically darted out of the room and gently closed the doors behind them, leaving the two alone again at the table. There weren't even any guards. Even though there were certainly some waiting outside, the message that he believed he could handle her unassisted was clear - and, surprisingly, not exactly far fetched" }, { "author": "Aria", "message": "Although the castle was incredibly fancy, Aria couldn't help but feel a growing sense of unease as she walked through it, and part of her wished she hadn't sheathed her claymore so readily. These walls, tall and sturdy, were no doubt built upon the corpses of generations upon generations of slaves, and even to this day, everything seemed operated by them. Her heart ached as she saw the servants rushing by, all seeming too afraid to even look at her. What had they gone through? She wished she could do something, anything for them, but she knew that the best thing to do was probably, well, nothing. Leave them be, at least then they wouldn't receive any further punishment.\n\nAt least they were able to live warmly here, perhaps with some semblance of comfort. It was likely much worse for the ones outside, who she could imagine had to spend their nights huddled together for warmth, hoping to survive another day. She wouldn't be surprised if they ended up dying by the dozens from being overworked, or underfed, or the cold, or a mix of all of those. The reason why these servants were treated slightly less terribly wasn't difficult to see, they resembled the Shapeshifters this land was known for to some extent.\n\nAria tried to put those thoughts out of her mind for now as they reached the second set of doors. Unsurprisingly, the dining area was just as ornate as the rest of the castle, although she noted a clear difference between the chairs. It almost annoyed her a little bit, she got the message, despite being superior in terms of physical power, she was lesser than him. But, she held her tongue, finding that provoking this man was a terrible idea. The portrait above his seat and the bust behind hers didn't make her very comfortable either, and she wasn't looking forward to being watched by three of Vasili as she ate.\n_ _\n\nBefore she could step inside the room, though, she suddenly felt her hand being taken. If she weren't wearing her gauntlets, she might have pulled her hand away on instinct, perhaps even smacked him. Luckily for the both of them, that didn't happen, and Aria only gave a slight flinch, barely noticeable except to the most perceptive individuals - she didn't doubt for a second that he had seen it.\n\nWere his words meant to reassure her? Because they didn't do that at all. She didn't get the feeling that he was directly lying, more so obscuring the truth in some way. A week wasn't nearly enough time to heal from such extensive injuries through natural means, although she was also certain that 'in working order' was not the same as fully healed. She really should have just grabbed her and left, at least then she would have been able to save one person from this horrible place, which was better than nobody at all.\n\nFollowing him inside, Aria made her way to the chair meant for her, though she didn't sit down just yet. Instead, she undid the straps that tied her claymore to her back and leaned the weapon against the table in its scabbard, keeping it within arm's reach of her, just in case she might need it. It was always that close to her, and she never let it leave her sight, going so far as to hold on to it when she slept at night. Part of her wondered if one of the servants might try to take it, but then again, the thing was incredibly heavy, so she doubted any one of them would be able to lift it. A second of hesitation, and then Aria took off her helmet as well, setting it down on the ground beside the weapon.\n_ _\n\nIt revealed a face that could be considered attractive, with slightly tanned skin, long, auburn hair that now hung loosely over her shoulders, and the golden glowing eyes of an Aasimar, making it difficult to see where she was looking. Her expression was purposefully kept neutral, hiding the complicated mess of emotions she felt deep inside her. Aria wasn't revealing her face because she particularly wanted to, no, she just knew it was considered a polite thing to do so - plus, it was a bit difficult to eat with her helmet on.\n\nOnly when her host sat down did she follow his example, sitting on the front half of the seat, as her wings made it impossible to rest her back against the backrest. Aria was used to that, though, so she didn't look particularly awkward while seated. She listened as he spoke, resisting the urge to argue. As if she should be grateful for that. A light twitch of her upper lip perhaps revealed her annoyance, or maybe it may be attributed to more of a nervous tic, it was hard to tell.\n\nAria turned her head to look at the servants as the meal was brought in, noting the clear difference between the two of them. Still, her side looked to be a better meal than she'd eaten in months, her lifestyle, constantly being on the road, didn't allow her to eat that well very often. \"I am certain it will be more than satisfactory,\" She commented, wondering absently if it had been poisoned. No, this man didn't need poison to harm her, he could likely just make her do it herself with his enchantment.\n_ _\n\nFocusing her attention back on the man - noting that even seated, she towered over him, Aria folded her hands together, elbows resting on the table, lowering her head slightly as if she were about to start praying, and then, she stopped, remembering that may be seen as an insult. \"May I recite a prayer before I eat? It will not take long,\" She asked, although she was planning to do it anyway - the only difference would be if she did it openly or only in her head." }, { "author": "Duke Vasili Golitsin", "message": "Her flinch at his touch, infinitesimal as it was, did indeed not go unnoticed. Vasili was always smiling, always, which had drastically different connotations dependent on your status in terms of class and species. In this case, the barest tittering giggle and the slightest extra curve in his grin signalled the recognition of her involuntary reaction. Useful knowledge, if only as a way to make her needlessly uncomfortable in social situations, so... Debatably useful \n\nBy \"In working order\", Vasili had indeed not meant fully healed. She'd be thrown into her bunkhouse (after another thorough battering from one of the guards), and left for a week, maybe two. After that, they'd start forcing her to work again. Either she'd push through the pain and do her job, or she'd be forced to literally work herself to death. After all, the other option was not only losing a labourer temporarily, but expending medical supplies on her, which was far too much to ask. Better to eek the last remnants of resolve out of them before dumping them into one of the burial pits, destined to become one of thousands, a mere drop in the ocean of desiccated corpses beneath these grounds. Were a Shaman to ever step foot on this estate, they'd likely have a stroke for the sheer quantity of tortured souls present \n\nVasili, as a learned man, obviously knew what Aasimar were, yet his eyebrows raised ever so slightly in acknowledgment as she took her helmet off, hair tumbling out of it and falling into place, eyes burning a brilliant gold. As she answered his question and asked another, he took a sip of wine from his goblet, cast in gold not dissimilar to the one emanating from within her eyes right now. He took his time with it, clasping two fingers and a thumb around the neck of the glass, lifting it up, swirling it softly for a while, taking a sniff, then finally taking a tiny swig of the wine, before setting it down once more\n_ _\n\n\"Why, of course! I would not deprive of you that, and besides, I shall enjoy learning of you and your kinds fanciful little rituals. Please, go right ahead\"\n\nThe Duke leaned back in his chair, crossing his legs and laying his left hand upon them, as he rested his head upon his right arm, propped up upon the armrest. Whilst he was genuinely intrigued by what the prayer entailed, his specific wording was nothing more than further attempts to get a rise out of Aria. He had power, but power alone was not enough. One needed to exert it, to push the limits of what people would accept, to make them submit to you, body and mind. He couldn't do this with intimidation or physicality, and simply having a militia to order around wasn't enough. This was why he had honed his mastery over Enchantment to such a degree \n\nThe silence was so... Odd. The absence of the constant wind and snow present in Gantrick would be welcome anywhere but here, but as she Was Here, it served only to unnerve. Cold, dead, eyes looked down at her from all angles, mounted taxidermy animals of all kinds. Killed for sport, or simply for the prestige, and immortalised in this hall. It was most likely the Castellans ancestors who'd actually killed them all - Vasili didn't seem the type, given his garb and his stature. He watched intently as she prayed, as if judging the quality of some contest, as though her faith was some circus performance on display for him. He only hammered that feeling home with his reaction, a dainty sequence of small claps\n\n\"Oh, how wonderfully quaint! Foreigners do so amuse me, with all your intricate little rituals. Truly wondrous, haha!\"\n_ _\n\nWhilst worship of all Gods was common throughout most of Lucidien, Gantrick was incredibly culturally homogenous, and so Ursus, creator of the Shapeshifters, was the only true religion in the country, especially here in the core territories of the Fallholt Duchy and the Royal Holdings. Though, once more, Vasili was not truly this mystified by the prayer, and was instead trying to mock Aria at every turn. He wanted an outburst, or at least some noticeable expression of anger, just so he could goad her ever further, only to dangle his authority overhead, over and over. And he didn't stop there \n\n\"Now, the subject I invited you in to discuss. Surely, you can see the boons of slavery, eh? Yes, yes, 'barbaric' they say, 'inhumane' they say, but what of it? Gantrick is a thriving state,-\" At this, Vasili motioned all around him, glancing to the busts, the intricate portraits, his own golden cutlery, and the magnificent chandelier above, throwing his arms wide \"-devoid of that putrid Alynthian degeneracy. Take you, for example, an Aasimar. You may not be a Shapeshifter, but you are a proud and storied people, no? And you are pure, no half-breed mongrel like some common half-human, yes? Surely, you can understand, beyond your own personal misgivings, the many benefits of our system\"\n\nHe finished his monologue with the continuance of his ever present smirk, before picking up one of his many forks from the frankly ridiculous array of them (on both sides, Aria's and his) and taking the corresponding knife to begin sawing at his cut of meat, before biting down on a small chunk as she delivered her response, smiling all the while" }, { "author": "Aria", "message": "Noting the light giggle and his grin curving slightly more, Aria knew that her involuntary flinch had been spotted, and she worried that this information would be used against her in the future. Part of her was beginning to regret that she hadn't just cleaved this man's head clean off when she had the chance, but even if she had managed to kill him, what would that have accomplished? She didn't doubt for a second that the castle's guard would have killed her in response, and he would simply be replaced by someone else - this land had more than enough terrible people, after all.\n\nShe decided not to comment on the raise of his eyebrows at her reveal, though it did make her wonder, had he ever seen one like her before? Sure, he'd recognized her species earlier, but that hadn't exactly been difficult - few other races had wings that were this size, and she wasn't aware of any other species whose wings were colored a white that was this pure. There was also the concerning thought that perhaps there were other Aasimar imprisoned here, and then the even more concerning thought that if Kamara hadn't saved her, Aria might have been enslaved here as well.\n\nOf course he was going to let her question hang there, that wasn't surprising. The Duke certainly seemed to enjoy showing off that he was still above her in this place. But, well, there wasn't much Aria could do about that, so she just let the silence hang there, waiting patiently. She felt that she should be careful to hide her reactions, not give him any more ammo to work with - though, then again, if he so desired, he could probably force any information out of her that he wanted to.\n_ _\n\nShe nodded when Vasili gave her the go-ahead, the purpose of his wording clear as day. He was definitely trying to piss her off, or at least get her emotional in some way. Aria was going to try her best not to let him, attempt to let his words slide off her. Luckily, she'd met her fair share of annoying people in her life, so she had some experience with doing so.\n\nKeeping her hands folded, Aria lowered her head and lightly pressed her forehead against her hands, closing her eyes and muttering her prayer in a soft voice that Vasili might or might not hear, depending on how good his ears were. It was one that someone might use in a tavern, or anywhere else where they were served food, albeit slightly modified. It thanked the gods for the meal, and the servants for preparing it, and then wished well upon the servants. Usually, one might include the host in the prayer for letting them into his house and offering the food, but that part was notably absent from Aria's prayer - a not-so-subtle dig at Vasili. She doubted he'd be bothered by it, though, it was more for the sake of her own sanity.\n\nAria lowered her hands and raised her head, straightening her back once more. She was aware that the Duke had been observing her, though those weren't the only eyes on her. Even if she wasn't looking at them directly, she could still feel the presence of the animals' eyes on her, watching her every move. Was this room made specifically to unnerve guests? It wouldn't surprise her. The silence didn't help very much either, and Aria could feel her heart beating in her chest, the feeling a lot more obvious than it usually would be. At least she was still able to wear her armor, she was certain that she wouldn't have been able to handle this, had she been forced to take it off.\n_ _\n\nWith that out of the way, she turned her attention to the food she'd been offered. Although it wasn't as fancy as Vasili's, it was likely a much better meal than what she'd been eating for the past few months. Then again, she was also very aware of what had gone into it. How many people had died to farm these vegetables, this meat? How could she even eat it, with that knowledge on her mind, the awareness of the suffering that had gone into it? Her gaze turned to the Duke, watching him as he spoke, wondering to herself how someone could be this awful and go unpunished.\n\nAria remained quiet for a long moment, not because he had a point, but because the sheer audacity of his words baffled her. How could he say something like that? Did he truly believe it? It made her feel sick to her stomach, her appetite vanished completely.\n\nShe took a breath to steady herself, to not give in to her quickly growing anger. She had to stay calm. She had to, otherwise he might actually get under her skin. \"I can see that this land may appear to be thriving on the surface,\" She spoke, her voice perfectly steady, \"But I do not see the benefits of such unnecessary cruelty. Other countries are doing just as well, if not better, without having to utilize slavery.\"\n\nSetting aside her discomfort with the situation, Aria picked up the largest fork and knife - mostly because anything smaller would be dwarfed in her hands - and cut off a piece of the nearest vegetable, putting it into her mouth and chewing as if she wasn't incredibly bothered by the way it had been produced. She made sure to swallow before continuing - wouldn't want to be caught being improper, after all. \"People work far better when they are fed and well cared for, not treated like animals. I do not see a single benefit such a system may have, except to satisfy one's need to cause harm to others.\"" }, { "author": "Duke Vasili Golitsin", "message": "Vasili chuckled at her response, shaking his head as if having just listen to some flight of fancy a child had delivered, as if her opposition to slavery were merely a product of foolishness and naïvety. Despite being of great intellect, the Duke did truly believe the wretched lies he touted. His vehement hatred to many other races, his dislike of so called 'impure' hybrids like half-humans, and his latent desire to hold power over and inflict suffering upon this beneath him, overpowered whatever reason and logic might stand in the way\n\n\"Oh ho ho, my dear, if only it were so Simple As that. What a world would it be, if nobody had to suffer, Hm? Why concern myself with the petty contrivances of those beneath me, when I can extract the only thing that makes them useful? Out in those fields, they are not people. They are property, My Property, and they are such because I am above them, and they are beneath me. It is the way of the world, my dear, and a truth you must learn to acknowledge\"\n\nHe continued eating, dignified and graceful, unreasonable delicate in all his movements. Such a paradox, a man so small, dainty, and unimposing, holding such power, orchestrating such unfathomable cruelty, holding such influence over someone like Aria, a physical titan clad in garments of war and armed with a blade of immense impact. Presuming she had been, once more, stunned to silence, he continued \n\n\"And, you know, so many people I have talked with on this issue, they say 'but the workers do their job better when fed and watered well, cared for', but I just don't see it. There are so many benefits to truly conditioning someone, you know? You know what? I shall use an example\"\n\nVasili sharply cut the silence of the room with a snap of his fingers, unusually loud. Moments later, two servant girls rushed out of the kitchen and stood to attention in front of the door, looking to Vasili, hands clasped in front of them\n_ _\n\n\"Now, were these fine servants employed, rather than owned, by me, they would be entitled to so many frivolities. They could afford to be flippant, or tardy, or layabouts - and what could I do? Legally speaking, naught but fire them, and pass off these subpar workers to good nobles home. But as slaves, their wills can be bent to exactly my specifications!\"\n\nHe turned to the girls, snapping his fingers again at them and pointing to the side of the table, near his chair but still a small ways down. They, again, rushed to where they were supposed to be, gaze centred straight ahead. They were clad in simple clothing, but it was clean as a whistle, devoid of any rips or tears, so as not to tarnish the aesthetic of Southhallow\n\n\"You, on the left. Strike her\"\n\nThey quickly complied, stepping a pace or so away from the table and facing each other. The girl on the left readied her arm, and swung, slapping her coworker across the face with not insignificant power. Though she stumbled slightly, the second girl quickly regained her composure and stood straight again, a mark visible on her cheek and tears welling in her ears, tears she was vehemently fighting against. Vasili turned to Aria again, motioning with one hand to the girls \n\n\"You see? You see the dedication they have? I have taken these lesser creatures from whatever degenerate folly they were entrapped in prior to their stay at my grounds, and moulded them into productive members of Gantrick's society and dutiful workers. And you may again appeal to the morality argument, yes, but I assure you, this Is The moral path! These girls, half-humans both of the, whilst they look presentable, they are not truly on level with me. It's good for them, instils proper values into their simplistic minds-\" \n\nVasili, unaware of how utterly depraved and monstrous he sounded to any reasonable person, chuckled slightly, as if aghast that Aria didn't acknowledge the benefits to this foul system \n_ _\n\n\"Alright, alright, my point is made. Once more, then return to your duties\"\n\nThe girl who'd been struck previously, having fought off true tears as Vasili monologues about her lack of worth as a being, almost audibly sobbed at this, her face contorting, before she quickly regained composure, a single tear having escaped. Her counterpart, similarly distraught, simply breathed in deep, then struck again. This time, the girl stumbled more, going further off track. A sizeable welt now sat upon her cheek, but she still marched back to the kitchen with the discipline and grace shown before. Vasili just took another sip of his wine" } ]	1,192	10,399
345.736842	1776-07-04	GuildPublicThread	[ { "author": "Lawrence Silvermoore", "message": "It was cold, grim, and brutal in the harsh winterlands of the North. Where the more brazen and brutal folk of shapeshifters makes their home in the icy regions of Gantrick. Where food is scarce and survival is the fittest, there is a reason that its inhabitants are forced to become much fiercer and wild. For the nature of these very lands don't give a single speck of mercy to any life other than their own.\n\nTo the lonesome trail of the Morthal Forest Road, a single individual clad in heavy winter clothing of white and light materials would be trekking a calm day of winter in the middle of a soft and dim afternoon. The white specks of snow gently moving down with grace and elegance. Heavy fumes of white mist would come out with each breath, as if he has difficulty breathing. But who wouldn't when their lungs are filled with frostbite?\n\nBut other than the cold temperature, it was at least quiet and peaceful. To the road ahead towards Alynthi, the safest route for him to go is through these lands. But this was also the longest road to get there. Whatever where it may be, at least he is patient. Eternally patient. For a few days is nothing compared to the unknown time of millenia within the hellscape of the Plane of Dreams. \n\nHis backpack on his back, being so large that it can be associated to a goliath's was merely lightweight. Or at least, having enough to carry it properly. It can be assumed that its magically enchantment by nature for him to carry such a thing. But other than that, he is burdened by the things he carry. \n\nAfter a few moments, shapeshifter wolves would come out of the clearing of the trail. Brandishing black serrated swords with every ounce of their body covered in thick leather armor.\n\n```Well now, we have a gold mine ripe for the picking!```\n-\n\nThe individual would slowly move back. Though more emerged from behind him. Two at the front, and three at the back. \"Please, let me pass. I'll give you my gold, just spare me and my work.\" His voice was ominously demonic and dark, though there was indeed a tone of fear and anxiety to it. But he did not fear for his life.\n\nHe feared for theirs. For they do not know that the dead calls him their leader. Their Prince. And when the dead senses that their majesty is in danger, they shall rise to enact revenge to the living.\n\n```Yeah... We'll spare your belongings and your life! I'm sure you'd make quite a slave for those nobles. Bet they'll give us tons of gold with someone like you.```\n\nWhile all of them laughed and cackled, the individual would slowly raise their head to reveal a porcelain mask underneath all that winter gear of fur and leather. \"... Sir, how many have you killed?\" \n\n```Probably too many to count! But I'll make sure that you're unharmed~```\n\nThe atmosphere began to tense as the masked individual lays dormant and silent. A chilling breeze of wind moving through the place, awaiting the suspense to take fold. \"Then I'll make sure your soul is split equally to your victims.\"" }, { "author": "Count/Countess Aarin Micah Loer (She/He/They)", "message": "It was his calling yet again — as Count Aarin Micah Loer soared over the freezing, grim lands of Gantrick. Being in the air, Micah could already feel the biting chill at his fingertips even through his gloves, and angled his body, spreading his feathery wings to lower his altitude and fly in a warmer level of altitude. \n\nHe muttered something under his breath as he neared the commotion, and his body blurred as he angled his wings for a dive. An individual was being surrounded by what seemed like shapeshifter werewolves. He swiftly dove right into the group of bandits, his figure still in an illusionary blur, sending up a cloud of snow. There was a flash of yellow — a crackle of lightning, and Micah's lightning imbued sword stabbed straight through the torso of one of the bandits and out, before whirling around, his agile footwork allowing him a quick retreat as he stood beside the individual.\n\nHis figure finally came into a clear form revealing a tall woman with long, wavy blond locks, large feathery wings, wielding a crackling lightning-imbued sword. He held an arm to his face to protect himself from the biting cold." }, { "author": "kyutefluffboi", "message": "The masked individual would stand motionlessly in front of the bandits. Slowly increasing his inner strength to unleash his unholy cruelty. But before that, as silent as an owl and as loud as thunderstruck, a yellow flash appeared right in front of him that tore through the torso of one of the bandits with a mighty thrust. \n\nHe was merely standing in place, watching the scene unfold. Watching. Studying. Analyzing. Unfolding strings of information with each passing second to assess his next set of actions. Not before long, the masked individual would see of a woman standing beside him with wings he was all too keenly hateful of. \"Ah, a child of the false justice. Though it seems that your actions greatly differ from that of your creator mother.\" \n\nHis demonic voice was both distasteful and disgusted, yet it still held a respectable tone. Seemingly commending the knight of their bravery to intervene with the fight. Though it wouldn't be very evident to the subtle messages and hidden emotions.\n-\n\nWalking up front, he let out a deep sigh while the rest of the bandits would ready their melee weapons to charge against the both of them. However, the wounded would start tending to its own wounds by covering it up with bandages. Now that his face is out of his partner's point of view, he would remove the porcelain mask to reveal a shadowy face. From it were a myriad of eyes glowing a dim light of green with pupils having demonic traits and aesthetics. \n\n\"The dead demands retribution.\" \n\nUnlike earlier where his voice is both menacing and demonic, the voice he now uses is unlike any other. Benevolent, soothing, compasionnate, it was like the voice of an angel that may even rival or exceed that of a siren's call. Heralding doom in the most graceful manner. \n\n \"Oh victims of these evildoers! I call upon your tormented spirits! Ye who has been spoiled of life! Take your revenge and seek true justice! I call upon in the name of Lawrence Silvermoore! Rest through the blood of your killers!\"\n-\n\nDeep within the woodland forests of the morthal trail, dozens of spirits would soon spring forth. Chanting harrowing screams of anger, malice, and agony. They would fly through the area, in between the bandits and Vidal. Lawrence would be seen covered in soul-like flames. His arms covered with an intense glow of cyan colors that reveal the skeletal structure of his arms wreathed in spectral blue flame.\n\n```What are you all doing?! KILL HIM! KILL THE NECROMANCER!```\n\nThe four bandits would try to attack Lawrence and Aarin, but they felt rather slow. Very slow. As if the vitality of their agility was somehow drained out of them. \"Not even the God of Death can save your souls from me.\" The spirits had conjoined themselves with one another to form a horrific shroud around the caster.\n\nSpirit Shroud\n\nHe spoke in a neutrally positive tone with his face away from the knight's point of view. \"Now then, to the newcomer, would you need of help? The dead will provide cover should you need their assistance.\"" }, { "author": "Count/Countess Aarin Micah Loer (She/He/They)", "message": "The Countess frowns at the masked individual. \"False justice? I do not understand, I'm afraid.\"\n\nHer voice was ever so cool, deep, and whispery, but in reaction to such a distasteful statement of herself, it echoed a challenging tone, as if she dared this individual to challenge the laws of justice and protection she lived and fought for her entire life. \n\nAs Aarin spectated the individual, the harrowing screams arose, tearing at her own heart that made Aarin wince ever so slightly. As if attempting to instinctively counter such necromancy, her white eye seemed to glow a bit more for a brief moment — but if any instincts to suppress the dead spirits arose, Aarin brought those instincts down. This necromancer, no matter if she liked it or not, was dealing against the bandits. \n\n\"You are of great use,\" Countess Loer says simply, with no care or consideration of what this necromancer felt towards being regarded as merely 'useful.' She brandishes her sword, lightning crackling with energy, her yellow eye glowing brightly whenever she brings power into her imbued, golden sword. \n\n\"Nevertheless,\" Her voice raises in volume, \"I will punish the evil with appropriation as justice wills me to. Only after that may your dead rest once more.\"\n\nShe puts herself in a stance, and with gritted teeth, dives right into the shadowy shroud of the dead, with such startling speeds as if a flash of an incredibly strong gust of wind had just flown by. Had the grim, freezing weather made her physically cold, being near the presence of the dead spirits chilled her own internal systems and heart. The presence of such vile, unrestful beings did not soothe Aarin Micah, but the opposite. It was truly light and dark, the light struggling to prevail against the dark, and coordinate with it.\n\nOnce positioning herself so that she was decently surrounded by the bandits all around her, she stamped her good foot down with extra force on the ground, pivoting around on that foot in a whirlwind-like\n\nSpin as she flung her sword out, slicing through the bodies of the bandit in one quick, light, but clean spin. Her heart thudded wildly even in her ears — attempting to push away any negative turmoils of feelings rising in her heart thanks to the harrowing presence of the dead." }, { "author": "kyutefluffboi", "message": "The leader of the group was able to defend and evade to a far distance from the two individuals. With the haunting presence of the dead and power of lightning cowering down on them, the odds of this battle is impossible as his men were struck blow after blow by the knight in an area of death created by the necromancer.\n\n\"Let true justice be served.\" It seemed as though Lawrence ignored the words of Aarin, but that doesn't mean that he didn't hear such things. The time for hate is not appropriate at this hour, for the dead is in need of their just deserved rest. He raised his spectral hands up in the air, seemingly preparing to cast a spell.\n\nWith the knight's protection against the bandits, the necromancer was able to cast his spell with perfect clarity without any delay or error. \"Bloom and Decay.\" Soon, bursts of necromantic energy began to explode from the ground at random. The screams of pain and agony filled their air as one by one their enemies fell with bodies decayed to a point that they turned into lifeless husks. On the other hand, Aarin would feel invigorated. The ominous and foreign feeling of darkness embracing him as if his light was welcome in the land of shadows.\n\nHis instincts may start to calm down at such a comforting yet confusing feeling, for people always believed that darkness was evil and the light was good. Though only very people truly understood the concept of the two elements was not by their nature, but by the people who wield it.\n\n-\nThe leader would see his allies turn into lifeless husks, shaking and trembling with his tail behind his legs. He slowly moved back only to fall to the ground, jaws shivering in absolute fear as his eyes saw a nightmarish figure. Lawrence would simply walk in front of the remaining bandit with face still hidden with the exception of his multiple glowing eyes with his hands simply holding the straps of his large backpack.\n\n```DE-DEMON! INHUMAN! MONSTER! ABOMINATION!```\n\nHearing those words, the necromancer would reveal a sinister smile beneath his shadowy veil. Those horrible eyes seemingly delighted in the fear of the bandit before them. \"You're just like the rest of them.\" Suddenly, the Spirit Shroud would collapse with the ghosts of the forest seemingly bursting outward towards the remaining bandit.\n\n```No! NO! NOOOOOOOO!```\n\nThe bandit was carried off in spectral mist, being pulled inside the depths of the forest. Only his tormented voice echoed across the woods. Becoming faint with each second until there was nothing but silence. For a moment, Lawrence would slowly move his body towards Aarin. That sinister smile still present, yet it would fade away as a seemingly humble looking spirit would appear beside him.\n\n-\n\n\"__Thank you, my Prince. You have given us a chance for justice. Now we may rest. However... The Knight...__\"\n\nLawrence would slowly shake his head, the gazes of his eyes seemingly turning empathetic and sorrowful. \"All of you have suffered enough in these woods. Rest and cross peacefully in death.\"\n\n\"__As you wish. Prince Lawrence...__\"\n\nThe ghost would slowly fade away with a reverent bow to the necromancer. Soon enough, he would direct his full attention towards the knight. Several of his eyes seemingly staring at her with caution and aggression. \"Now then, I suppose your kind wouldn't allow one such as me to continue on living? With your corrupted belief of justice created by your wretched goddess being the judge of my life?\" \n\nBoth his hands and arms still held their spectral appearance. Lawrence still having his guard up against his ally in front of him. If Aarin is observant enough, there was doubt and fear behind those aggressive and untrusting eyes. \"I await your reply.\"" }, { "author": "Count/Countess Aarin Micah Loer (She/He/They)", "message": "Aarin Micah stood, sheathing her sword. Her expression was less neutral than usual, the force of her eyes glaring at the necromancer through slightly narrowed eyes. Her heart still thudded even after the feud had completed, and they emerged an almost effortless victory against some shapeshifter bandits. Yet, it thuds against her chest, struggling to fully recover and calm down from the harrowing screams of the dead that had surrounded her in an extremely uncomfortable close proximity. \nAllying herself, even briefly, with a necromancer was a first in her century-old life and experience. And she wishes to avoid such pairs altogether ever after this. Her light against the necromancer's corrupted darkness flickers, struggling against the dark.\n\nMicah blinked slowly at the necromancer's aggressive, but Wary Statement. Her white eye glowed a bit more again, but nothing happened. As she stood there silently, unmoving, as if a robot for a few moments, her wings flared open and close, and she crossed her arms.\n\n\"It is as if you accept your demise here instead of fleeing, necromancer,\" Aarin said rather icily, \"To me, I only protect against any evil-willed people, not specifically anyone with a darker mindset.\" She narrowed her eyes, \"What are your intentions to be here in such a place like this, if I may inquire?\"" }, { "author": "Lawrence Silvermoore", "message": "\"As if I would lose to the likes of you. Knight.\" With a single snap of his fingers, his spectral aesthetics would disappear in almost an instant as it bursts itself around the user before fading. \"Hmph. You speak as if you know true darkness. Yet, knights like you can grasp that it's only related to evil deeds and destructive power. What a foolish delirium. Certainly Kamara and Ulmos' fault.\"\n\nHe would grunt in response to the question, though it sounded more like a beast rather than an ordinary individual. Soon after, he would take off his hood to reveal the abomination of a humanoid race. Eyes with green demonic pupils crawling around his face in constant slow motion, writing in flesh and creating tears against his flesh.\n\nOn his neck was a wide slit of a mouth, small sharp teeth could be seen yet not in complete or consecutive rows. Seemingly displaced in between each other as if it was a monster's mouth. \"And why should I? By what right do you demand of me with such information? Is Kamara looking for a way to apologize now?\"" }, { "author": "Count/Countess Aarin Micah Loer (She/He/They)", "message": "The Countess gazed at the necromancer with solemn yellow and white eyes that betrayed no emotion. Her lips seemed to thin.\n\n\"I am not like the 'Likes of me,\" She states coldly, her hand suddenly resting on her sword handle but not yet unsheathing it. Her wings flared in and out, flapping in harsh air strokes towards the necromancer, intentional or not.\n\nStaring at the abomination of what was supposed to be a humanoid face, Micah would frown slightly.\n\nWho .. Or what is this, exactly?\n\nIt clearly seemed, by the way he spoke of Her, that something may had happened that causes him to think of Her in such a seemingly negative light. Micah narrowed her eyes. She did not favor anyone who does not hold much respect to her Goddess.\n\nA Goddess should be fair, and had no need to apologize to an individual, most especially a Necromancer.\n\n\"Kamara does justice the way it should, necromancer,\" Micah said firmly, \"I do not believe She owes anything to you, more or less an Apology. Gantrick is a harsh, cruel place, with little to seek and gain. It strikes me curious to know what you seek in such a region like this.\"" }, { "author": "Lawrence Silvermoore", "message": "\"She owes me everything. For a millenia of pain. Every god owes me. The good. The bad. The wicked and the righteous. Though I do not expect you to understand. You lived under the favor of your goddess. However, they allow me to turn into this... Monstrosity. Where's my justice? Where's the justice that the dead deserved?\"\n\n\"Where was she when I needed her most? Hmph? The supposed goddess who reigns over justice. Yet she can't even bother to send someone to save me from an obvious tower. Through all the thousands of knights and followers, I was left alone to rot simply because...\" In that moment, he hesitated to continue further. His voice was already on the verge of intense anger. Yet he stayed calm, cool, and collected throughout all his dialogue. Though it was evident that there was pain his tone, excruciating pain.\n\n\"I say again. I will never say my intentions here to you. Why would I trust someone who I just met, and most of all, a servant of the one who betrayed me?\"" }, { "author": "Count/Countess Aarin Micah Loer (She/He/They)", "message": "This particular knight had never really been referred to as a Servant To Kamara before. He didn't know what to think of it.\nAarin frowned, a visible, obvious frown. For a moment, he didn't know what to say.\n\n\".. None of the Gods are perfect, and they cannot be expected to achieve everything happening at once — and by dumb luck, your calling did not reach Her, or any of the other guardians of us.\" Aarin Micah kept his voice neutral, composed. He clasped his gloved hands together, as if in a praying motion.\n\n\".. Condolences for what you've been through\" Was what Aarin Micah managed to muster out. He ran a gloved hand through his silvery-blond locks over his head. \"Someday, Kamara will answer to your calling, and she will provide the justice you seek.\n\n\"It is also better to live on in peace. If you ever feel so connected with the dead, necromancer, you'd know as much as the dead would know on resting in peace after turmoils of chaos, destruction, and anger.\"" }, { "author": "Lawrence Silvermoore", "message": "\"Kamara will never answer my call. Only a fool would think of asking help to divinity. No, we are merely tools to be used by the gods. We would never be viewed as their children or people. Only tools. And ONLY tools.\" Suddenly, a large book sewed on with different skins and tissues would jump from the necromancer's backpack, it hopped into his arms to close in him.\n\nIt would contract and contrast as if it was a living and breathing organism. Scrapings of paper would be heard as if it feels its master's pain. \"Indeed. But that doesn't mean our deaths were from a fairy tale. A happy ever after. Some of us die a gruesome death. Such act would eventually turn into an undead of its own. As a necromancer, I know that there's truly no peace. For death is everywhere.\"\n\nHe would soon cover his head with a hood once more, masking his monstrous face save for the glowing demonic eyes that peers through the dark. \"Since you did not attack me, I only have one advice to you. Whatever you do, do not trust the gods. They spew truthful temptations to our ends.\"\n\n\"Perhaps if circumstances were different, I would've serve the noble beliefs of the gods. Perhaps I would've been a man of renown. Instead, I am shunned and feared for what I have become. Only the dead treat me for what I really am.\n\nThough... I still find it confusing. Usually, the undead call their summoners with a title of lord or master. But instead, they call me a Prince. A Prince of Pestilence.\"" }, { "author": "Count/Countess Aarin Micah Loer (She/He/They)", "message": "Pestilience Means plague .. Was this necromancer struck with one in the past that led to the misfortunes he faced then and now? Count Loer flared their wings open and closed wordlessly, his lips thinning.\n\n\"I believe the Gods, especially Kamara, has led my spirit down here and created me to protect and shield the unfortunate and weak.\" Micah lowered his eyelids, crossing his arms.\n\n\"I daresay I do not mind if I'm a mere tool to Kamara. I'm born and created to serve one purpose, and it is to bring justice on Kamara's behalf. I do wish, and perhaps believe, that she sees me as her child, but I am truly her sword. One of her workers to serve justice.\"" }, { "author": "Lawrence Silvermoore", "message": "\"Then you're a lost cause. When the light burns too bright, remember that the dark will consume you. The Balance must be maintained. For even in good, there's evil lurking within. That's the ugly truth of life. Of Mortality and Divinity. Though I admire your duty to protect, it is only within the reason of a goddess. That in itself is a mockery of your existence.\" Lawrence would slowly look at the husks of the bandits around him, one by one he began to drag them up on a pile. After that, he began to dig through the snow and hard soil with his gloved hands.\n\n\"Just... Just stop talking about you serving with your justice. Each time I hear about it, it makes me nauseating. And it angers me that you say that with full confidence and yet I, died and reborn, still not saw a speck of your word. If you were so boastful of your duty, why not rescue the slaves of Gantrick and Lazaroth?\" His words were as painful and excruciating as a snake's venom, yet it was truthful right to its very core.\n\n\"The slaves would've been liberated by now if your people believes in the justice you serve. And yet, I can still hear their call. To end their pain with revenge. So many lives torn asunder by false hope and justice...\"" }, { "author": "Count/Countess Aarin Micah Loer (She/He/They)", "message": "Aarin Micah tenses evidently at the necromancer's comments. \n\n\"I may seem like I have a side, but I am in between,\" Aarin Micah states rather coldly, \"I only follow what my superiors and Kamara wills me to do, good or bad.\"\n\nBut what stung the countess inside right now was that she faced someone who had not been treated with proper justice. Just one of the people in the world who Aarin Micah Loer failed to shield from the miseries of the world.\n\n\".. I will take that suggestion into consideration, necromancer,\" Micah's voice was evidently more wary than the strong, cold tone she used in the sentences prior." }, { "author": "Lawrence Silvermoore", "message": "\"... Good or evil? Are you willing to be a mindless puppet? Falling yourself to the cost of lives?!\" His voice began to create a more apparent tone of anger and malice. He was slowly losing control. When he had created a small hole on the ground, the man stood up. Wreathing his hand in spectral blue flame, he had burst out necromantic energy to the earth. Creating a large hole enough for the corpses to be buried.\n\n\"Your superiors will never heed your consideration. You will only be fallen on deaf ears by the very people whom you serve.\" Suddenly, a malevolent aura soon bursted out of his body. His body covered in spectral and dark energies, mixing a shade of black and ghostly blue colors. \"When the time comes that you make the wrong decision, I will be the one who will destroy your comrades. Men and women alike shall be consumed by numerous plagues and pox. They will breed and produce the most vile of concoctions that even the Goddess of Pestilence will be horrified of it.\"\n\n\"Heed this warning well, for the rise of the dead is the consequence of life.\"" }, { "author": "Count/Countess Aarin Micah Loer (She/He/They)", "message": "Aarin Micah flinched back slightly as the necromancer bursts such a dark, malevolent aura of death out of his body out of control due to his anger. \n\nShe had never dealt with something like this before — someOne. A person who never received justice despite the horrifics and misfortune he faced in his life. A person who questioned her own beliefs, motives, and her actions and serving of justice she had pledged to do her entire life. He was so enraged by hate and the thirst for revenge, the darkness of engaging with the dead consuming his body and inner souls, and now he wishes the demise of everyone around him.\n\nThis was a man who seemed to have stepped too far into the dark, and can no longer see even a speck of light.\n\n\"... Necromancer. If you ever set out to do such things, bear in mind that I will aim to stop you.\"\n\nAarin had been called something like a Mindless puppet Here and there. She had thought about it her entire life. But what use was she in the world if she was anything but Kamara's servant and puppet? This was her entire reason of existence. She was born destined to serve Kamara something like a Mindless puppet Her entire life until her ends. \n\n\"The only dead that wishes to rise are the people who deserves to be dead, but to not rest in peace. I only dispel the lives of those who bring upon misery, who are evil-willed and dares to go against the law of order, harmony, and justice.\" Aarin Micah unsheathes her sword and twirls it about, lightning crackling simultaneously as her yellow eye glowed fiercely.\n\n\"The innocents lives that were ended by any circumstance usually choose — and are able to rest in peace, without having the will and urge to rise against the living.\"" }, { "author": "Lawrence Silvermoore", "message": "Before anything else, a ghostly figure would appear right beside Lawrence. It was cloaked in ghastly translucent dress with a hood so it isn't clear who or what she is, but her figure alone defines her as a woman. She whispered to him to his ear, to which the aura around the Necromancer began to die down. \"You're right. It's no use, her mind is lost to the divines. There's nothing we could do to save her from the lies that blinded her. What we can only do right now is hope that she makes the right decision. Or else, we will be forced to act accordingly. There's no redemption for a grave sin.\"\n\nHe would soon turn his attention to Aarin with hands crossed between each other. Seemingly looking her in a prideful and challenging gaze. \"Perhaps it is a choice, yet some don't have that luxury. And that is the truth of this world.\" The ghostly figure would slowly move the mutilated husks of the bandits one by one into the hole, after which she would vanish into thin air.\n\n\"Catch.\" From the pockets of his bag, he would throw a seemingly large glass container containing a red fluid from within. It seemed to be a medium healing potion. \"I don't like debts. This is your reward for helping me kill the bandits. It is the very least I could do, even though I didn't need assistance.\" Turning back to the corpses on the hole, he would raise his hands up in the air.\n\nThey began to wreathe themselves in spectral blue flame that showed the skeletal structure of Lawrence's hands as they began to fill the hold with necromantic energies. \"Now, leave me to my work. I need to make sure that the dead will be at peace. No need to have ghostly bandits running around like maniacs in the land of the living.\"" }, { "author": "Count/Countess Aarin Micah Loer (She/He/They)", "message": "Aarin Micah shivered, his wings folding in on him for a few moments. True, not all the dead would have a choice to haunt the living or rest peacefully. To Micah, it may be their natural resentful souls unable to rest, or that they died unwilling, and now sought to complete their unfinished stories as the dead.\n\nHe jerked his head towards the necromancer after watching the ghostly figure in a trance-like way, and managed to catch the glass container. There was a red fluid within, and Micah's senses told him that this seemed to be a medium healing potion. Okay, sure, the necromancer didn't want to be indebted to him, but Count Loer felt accomplished.\n\nHe tucked the container into his coats and lowered his head briefly.\n\n\".. Good luck, necromancer.\"" }, { "author": "Lawrence Silvermoore", "message": "\"... Good luck to you as well, Knight.\" Presumably as she made her exit out of the morthal trail, Lawrence would've finished his ritual and the burial rites for the dead that he had killed. He was kneeling in front of a homemade grave sign made entirely from wood. Behind it was a large mound of snow where he buried the dead. \n\nWhen the prayer was over, he would look above to see falling snowflakes gently raining down from across the sky. With one landing on Lawrence's forehead. \"Hmm...\" He began to pack his things and started to travel once more. Bearing his mask on his face, his journey to find the most foul of diseases continue.\n\nA different ghostly figure would soon appear right beside him. It spoke in dark whispers that Lawrence seem to hear in full clarity. \"I was hard on the knight because it what she... He... I don't know, They? Deserved. You heard what she said, I won't let her decide a choice that would cost the lives of innocents.\"\n\nThe ghostly figure spoke back to him. \"I... I know. At least we gave them something to think about...\" With that, he would disappear through a snowy mist as he treks across Gantrick once more." } ]	268	6,569
532.333333	1776-07-04	GuildPublicThread	[ { "author": "Lawrence Silvermoore", "message": "It was cold, grim, and brutal in the harsh winterlands of the North. Where the more brazen and brutal folk of shapeshifters makes their home in the icy regions of Gantrick. Where food is scarce and survival is the fittest, there is a reason that its inhabitants are forced to become much fiercer and wild. For the nature of these very lands don't give a single speck of mercy to any life other than their own.\n\nTo the lonesome trail of the Morthal Forest Road, a single individual clad in heavy winter clothing of white and light materials would be trekking a calm day of winter in the middle of a soft and dim afternoon. The white specks of snow gently moving down with grace and elegance. Heavy fumes of white mist would come out with each breath, as if he has difficulty breathing. But who wouldn't when their lungs are filled with frostbite?\n\nBut other than the cold temperature, it was at least quiet and peaceful. To the road ahead towards Alynthi, the safest route for him to go is through these lands. But this was also the longest road to get there. Whatever where it may be, at least he is patient. Eternally patient. For a few days is nothing compared to the unknown time of millenia within the hellscape of the Plane of Dreams. \n\nHis backpack on his back, being so large that it can be associated to a goliath's was merely lightweight. Or at least, having enough to carry it properly. It can be assumed that its magically enchantment by nature for him to carry such a thing. But other than that, he is burdened by the things he carry. \n\nAfter a few moments, shapeshifter wolves would come out of the clearing of the trail. Brandishing black serrated swords with every ounce of their body covered in thick leather armor.\n\n```Well now, we have a gold mine ripe for the picking!```\n-\n\nThe individual would slowly move back. Though more emerged from behind him. Two at the front, and three at the back. \"Please, let me pass. I'll give you my gold, just spare me and my work.\" His voice was ominously demonic and dark, though there was indeed a tone of fear and anxiety to it. But he did not fear for his life.\n\nHe feared for theirs. For they do not know that the dead calls him their leader. Their Prince. And when the dead senses that their majesty is in danger, they shall rise to enact revenge to the living.\n\n```Yeah... We'll spare your belongings and your life! I'm sure you'd make quite a slave for those nobles. Bet they'll give us tons of gold with someone like you.```\n\nWhile all of them laughed and cackled, the individual would slowly raise their head to reveal a porcelain mask underneath all that winter gear of fur and leather. \"... Sir, how many have you killed?\" \n\n```Probably too many to count! But I'll make sure that you're unharmed~```\n\nThe atmosphere began to tense as the masked individual lays dormant and silent. A chilling breeze of wind moving through the place, awaiting the suspense to take fold. \"Then I'll make sure your soul is split equally to your victims.\"" }, { "author": "Vidal 'Sun-Wielder' Solus", "message": "The metalclad knight traveled the roads up of Morthal in the lands of Gantrick. He was searching for his next bounty to claim just to make a quick buck for himself, part of him relatively missed the thrill of an Oath. It's been a little while since he has been bound to one, though he was not exactly searching for one.. The sentiment was still there. His companion, a White and Gray Hawk name given Amicus rode his shoulder. When you travel as much as Vidal has, it helps to have some company. Amicus perked his head up as he heard the distant sound of chatter. Vidal assumed this was his behavior finding some poor mice to snack on, though nonetheless he trekked his path in the way Amicus had pathed him on. Further approaching the encounter, he could faintly hear the sounds of dialogue.\n\nBandits, lowlifes just trying to make a quick coin off unsuspecting travelers. If there was a scale for the morality of people, they would be at the very bottom. But in the face of thievery, there was only one type of punishment any sort of thievery can be met with. The cold steel of a double edged blade piercing through their heart is the most necessary justice, though perhaps this can be avoided. If not, they will just add on to the some of many who face the hand of his longsword. He continued to walk the path until he encountered the Necromancer and the band of bandits, one quick glance at them and he already knew what was at hand.\n\n```\"Well, I don't suppose you are the greeting party for these lands.\"```\n\nHe let out a chuckle as he realized the full situation, some traveler being mugged by some nasty lowlifes. If the worst comes to shove, it'll just be like clockwork.\n\n```\"If I offer some gold to you gentleman, will you pester some other poor traveler? You seem to be the negotiating type so say we part ways here with a pocket full of gold eh?\"```" }, { "author": "Lawrence Silvermoore", "message": "```Full gold eh?```\n\nGlancing one of its own comrades on the back of the Necromancer, a bandit would immediately dash to Vidal's side with a mace at the ready. He tried to make a mighty swing right to the head to end the knight's life. The attack was rather quick and his moves fluid, it seems as though these are no ordinary bandits.\n\nMeanwhile, the Necromancer would take off his head and porcelain mask. Revealing the grotesque face of a monstrous, mutated humanoid being that is rather indescribable to entail what race it was. The bandits at the front got terrified at the sight while the sole individual on the back is confused on the reaction of his comrades. \n\nUnlike earlier where his voice is both menacing and demonic, the voice he now uses is unlike any other. Benevolent, soothing, compasionnate, it was like the voice of an angel that may even rival or exceed that of a siren's call. Heralding doom in the most graceful manner. \n\n \"Oh victims of these evildoers! I call upon your tormented spirits! Ye who has been spoiled of life! Take your revenge and seek true justice! I call upon in the name of Lawrence Silvermoore! Rest through the blood of your killers!\"\n\n-\nDeep within the woodland forests of the morthal trail, dozens of spirits would soon spring forth. Chanting harrowing screams of anger, malice, and agony. They would fly through the area, in between the bandits and Vidal. Lawrence would be seen covered in soul-like flames. His arms covered with an intense glow of cyan colors that reveal the skeletal structure of his arms wreathed in spectral blue flame.\n\n```What are you all doing?! KILL HIM! KILL THE NECROMANCER!```\n\nThe rest of the bandits (Excluding Vidal's attacker) would try to attack Lawrence, but they felt rather slow. Very slow. As if the vitality of their agility was somehow drained out of them. \"Not even the God of Death can save your souls from me.\" The spirits had conjoined themselves with one another to form a horrific shroud around the caster.\n\nSpirit Shroud\n\n\"Now then, to the newcomer, are you in need of help? The dead will provide cover should you need their assistance.\"" } ]	490	1,597
347.043478	1776-07-04	GuildPublicThread	[ { "author": "Victoria 'Vix' Stonespire", "message": "After the rather strange ordeal that had taken up a rather large bit of time, Vix was more than eager to simply be rid of this situation. However, there still was one matter of business to take care of: the matter of food. That had been what she had been after before the whole ordeal, and that was what she was after now. Though she wasn't quite certain as to whether or not the cheaper options were still available, she was beginning to not care all that much. Vix reached one hand behind her body, pushing her lute up on her back. It had begun to slide down and this was deeply annoying. Slowly, her head turned toward Vayra.\n\n\"I'm going to find some food. If you'd like to continue our conversation on performing, you're more than likely to come with.\"\n\nShe had a feeling that her words had seemed just a bit too formal, and potentially just a bit cold. Vix allowed her posture to relax, hands unclasping to hang at her sides and shoulders very slightly slumping downwards. She had to hope that this made her look relaxed rather than defeated. Slowly, her lips split in a smile, fingers tapping against her leg.\n\n\"I would be happy to continue to speaking to you, if that wasn't clear.\"\n\nPerhaps that had been a bit Too Friendly, but the words were already out of her mouth and could not be taken back. She cleared her throat, lifting her gaze back to the tiefling across from her, awaiting her response." }, { "author": "Vayra Vakara", "message": "A strange ordeal, indeed, but one finally concluded as crowds dispersed and matters seem settled. The Tiefling felt somewhat accomplished, if not confused by it all. Regardless, a relieved smile seemed clear upon her ashen complexion. Khisfiran garb delicately suiting the warmth of the day, foreign yet fanciful!\n\nAnd soon, her attention returning to Vix. The performer who by some coincidence, she had sparked a unique meet with. Her serious tone sparked an initial perk of her brow, hands easing then returning to her hips as she chose to correct herself. A much needed smirk upon her face, leaning forward with an appropriate snicker. \n\n\"Mmh..? And if not clear, I'm not keen to end things with you, either! Heh, yes! Food and talk, I could go for that.\" \n\nIt seemed her friendliness was recieved well, though Vayra seemed the type to flourish with most company. An eased lean back, Vayra couldn't help but ponder where they could possibly ago. And just like that, an idea as her eyes flashed wide with a particular point in a certain direction.\n\n\"Ooh! I've heard there's a very nice Inn in this town. Perfect for travellers. And it's.. This way! Come, come.\" - With the aforementioned point, Vayra would step forward into the action. Energetic, and cheery. A fanged smile followed her step, eyes tracking Vix in the expectation for her to follow. Of course, she would trust the performer to accompany her." }, { "author": "Victoria 'Vix' Stonespire", "message": "Victoria gave a small nod to herself, then gave a sweep of her arm, indicating for Vayra to lead the way. This gesture caused her lute to slide half-down her back once more. Vix reached back once more to push it up, then re-clasping her hands in front of her frame. Her lips quirked up once more in a small smile.\n\n\"Excellent.\" \n\nShe was quite pleased that her awkwardness hadn't been noticed, or if it had, it had been overlooked. The woman's smile grew, her hands twisting around each other as she thought for a long moment.\n\n\"Oh, by all means. Sounds perfect, and I do think that this square has been soured for me anyway.\"\n\nReally, what she had a hankering for was something made largely of fruit. Such a thing was probably going to be difficult to come by in an inn, but that didn't matter. No, she really did need to make a friend or two, and one that seemed to have some potential as a performer was more than ideal.\n\n\"I take it you've been before?\"\n\nThe beastwalker followed behind Varya as quickly as she could manage, hands unclasping once more to push her lute up on her back, then folding there to brace the thing up. She really didn't want to drop it. It was quite valuable and beyond that, quite dear to her." }, { "author": "Vayra Vakara", "message": "What awkwardness Vix showed, Vayra had done best to gloss over. A smile and a gesture was her plan, naturally, and her mind was set on learning more about this performer. Taking the lead in this engagement, perhaps, as the Tiefling acknowledged her gestures with a smirk and moved on! Walking along the busier roads than usual, her thoughts crossed on the specific details she overheard in murmur. Some specific detail hanging over the entrance of the Inn, ones you struggled to miss. \n\n\"Oh, been there before? Oh no, never. Really, I should have done. - Always liked seeing Alynthian inns. Khisfire is very similar. Just uh.. More sun, and more eyes on your pockets.\" - Vaya answered in her relaxed manner, eyes only briefly returning to the one who accompanied her while she remained hunting for the Inn in question. Regardless, her words ended with a chuckle. A joking manner, all focused until her gaze scanned that detail she remembered. \n\n\"Ah, there it is.\" Acknowledging with a point, she would focus upon a building trailing the path ahead. The standard Alynthi design, and a looming sign hanging over an open doorway. It looked to be of a happy man in a hat, drink held at his side. - Carved with clear attention. Vayra would lead them for it, clear that this was the Inn she remembered." }, { "author": "Victoria 'Vix' Stonespire", "message": "\"Oh, lovely. I must say the inns here do tend to be nice. I've stayeed a few nights in Khisfire inns, and I must say I prefer the ones here. I... Well, at fear of sounding rude, am well not fond of, as you said, the sheer number of eyes on my pockets I came across there. I take it you are from Khisfire?\"\n\nShe paused for a moment, head lowering and smile growing wider. Her hands had, by now, settled into a rather strange position at her back. Her fingers were now wrapped around the base of her lute to hold it up, the knot holding up her sling having significantly loosened. She really did need to sew the damn thing.\n\n\"I used to play with an orchestra, we traveled. One of my fellow performers got his coin purse cut right off his hip... Can't remember exactly where, but it was... Rather eventful. He was a bit too bold. Convinced nobody would dare pickpocket him. Fast hands on some. We didn't perform there. Just passing through.\"\n\nVix shrugged, eyes sliding back up to Vayra. The beastwalker seemed perfectly at ease now, or at least comfortable with whatever new circumstance she'd imposed upon herself.\n\n\"After you.\"\n\nShe didn't move her hand this time, as she was quite afraid her lute would fall off her back if she did, but instead gave her a nod." }, { "author": "Vayra Vakara", "message": "\"It's.. Something you get used to for sure! And yes! I.. Try and make it obvious, heh. The clothes, the.. Accent. Alynthi is just hot enough to suit the wear! In my mind atleast.\" - Vayra reasoned, perhaps taking some surprise to the question coming her way at all. The Tiefling truly couldn't make it any more obvious, though she imagined it was just a way to start some conversation. The thought quickly passed as Vix spoke, Vayra's attention clearly focused upon it. \n\n\"Mhm! Confident ones tend to be the victims! Of course, I'm Too Confident so the Thieves wouldn't dare!\" Joking, a quick remark before acknowledging the gesture and following along. Vayra couldn't help but notice the awkward position of Vix's hands, the struggle with her instrument yet not dwelling upon it too long as the bright light of the Inn's interior snapped her attention back. To those she'd walk past, she'd offer a smile. As a Tiefling she'd been earning looks, but never wanted to make herself seem hostile. Killing with kindness, as she beckoned Vix along to a comfortable area of seating where the two could simply talk and eat. \n\nSitting herself down, she'd assume Vix to do so too as her eyes scanned the local strangers and variety of groups. Locals and Travelling types a plenty, all an intriguing tale in their own right. \"Mmh, finally! Seats.\"" }, { "author": "Victoria 'Vix' Stonespire", "message": "\"I thought it'd be best to make certain. I've met a fair few with rather eccentric fashion tastes. Best not to make assumptions, in my experience.\"\n\nShe gave a polite little laugh at Vayra's comment. Of course. She supposed this level of flashy confidence was admirable in a way. Even though it was a joke, Vix did have to think that one who behaved like Vayra would, in a way, be protected against theft. She had quite the feeling that wherever this tiefling went, there were eyes upon her. One who drew eyes was not the one to anger, they were the sort that would be warned by strangers.\n\n\"Seats. Excellent.\"\n\nBefore sitting, Vix slowly crouched to the ground, using one hand to remove the lute's sling-strap from her shoulder, the other creeping up to catch the neck of the instrument. It seemed that she was concerned about it falling and hitting the ground. Once the instrument was in hand, Vix popped back to her feet, settling into a chair and propping the instrument up against her leg.\n\nThe lute was a rather pretty thing, and clearly custom made. It was made of a light colored wood, and engraved with an image of five bats hanging upside down beneath the strings. If one saw it from a distance, it most certainly would have appeared as if the bats were hanging from the strings of the instrument. Once seated, she unwound the sling from her shoulders, settling it across her lap. The woman cleared her throat once more —perhaps a nervous habit of sorts?— then lifted one hand to brush her hair behind an ear. \n\n\"So. You mentioned you are an illusionist. Have you ever performed in any regard? I don't mean to pry, but you did seem somewhat interested. Though do I not fault you if it was not genuine interest and just a desire to avoid being rude, given our prior circumstances.\"" }, { "author": "Vayra Vakara", "message": "Making assumptions, oh how it would make her smirk. As convenient as it was, the realisation of the Inn within brought her to that extra inch of comfort. Thus, would she simply pull at the cloak that covered at the majority of her attire. Off it went, and now the full viewing of her Khisfiran garb. All seemed suited for hot weather, mirroring the styles of a dancer yet adjusted for an Adventurer's lifestyle. A sash at her waist, naturally set down beside her cloak at her side.\n\nAnd while she did, naturally Vayra had watched the little actions of Vix. The care placed in that lute that slung on her back, her eyes carefully looming over ever detail. So well made, so custom and purposefully unique! The Tiefling had the mind to ask if she could see more of it as it soon lost itself from main view. Perfectly, however, Vix's interest in her illusions brought out the perfect plan. \n\nThere would be no words to offer Vix just yet, simply a sly smile and an acknowledgement as a heel tapped at the hard floor and a left hand raised. A swishing motion, as her golden gaze seemed to shut in quiet contemplation. \"Mmmh..\" \n.\n\nWithin her own little world, would she ponder the sights. At first the market square. The chase of a fleeing fox and an altercation all too recent. Imagery flickering, until it came to Vix. The travelling performer, and especially the details of that prized treasure formerly slung on her back. The light coloured wood, the engraving of bats and the clear quality of its design! All pieces connecting in her mind until the image grew far more clear. There, she got what she was after! A smile revealed with closed eyes, soon returning to her golden gaze as a dance like swish of her arm painted a strange purple magic between the two and onto the table. A shadowy figure, soon moulding into her lute! A replicate, an illusion! The details of the bats, and the light wood that she had seen earlier. \"Mhm..! Sorry, I couldn't help myself.\"\n\nSatisfied, the Tiefling narrowed her eyes upon her work. Simply it would float, a minor illusion yet detailed enough to reflect the Lute she had seen briefly. Finally, some words following her flashy reply. \"Uh.. I've performed to family before, I guess! This magic.. It's been more suited to my adventuring, but I've always wanted to expand. I was never lying to you, no. I.. I've always liked to dance, alongside my illusions. Maybe how I was taught..? I don't know..\"" }, { "author": "Victoria 'Vix' Stonespire", "message": "As Vayra did not speak immediately, VIx took a moment to get herself comfortable. She half stood once more, tugging her half-skirt down so that it did not bunch beneath her legs, but rather hung more evenly down around her legs. She smoothed the garment down, then lifted her hands to fix her shirt. She was quite certain it was sitting at least sort of how she wanted it to, and it was designed to avoid ruching up or otherwise sliding out of place anyway.\n\nHer eyes narrowed as a quiet noise came from the tiefling. What had that been? She seemed to be doing something, and Vix rather hoped it was some sort of magic, given that she'd just mentioned it, rather than the precursor to a fainting spell or something of the like. She wasn't too keen on being suddenly responsible for a fallen stranger. \n\nMuch to Vix's relief and delight, Vayra did not faint, but instead Vix found herself looking at an exact replica of her lute. Her lips parted into a smile. The young woman slowly leaned forward, examining the newly formed illusion. It really was quite detailed, enough so that she was quite certain that if she hadn't been able to feel the weight of her lute against her leg —and if she hadn't seen it form—,she would have thought it to be her true lute rather than an illusion.\n\n\"That is... Fantastic.\"\n\nVix leaned back, lifting her left leg to cross over her right. Her hands found the neck of her lute, pulling it up to lay across her lap. Her fingers traced across the carvings on the soundboard, eyes having dropped to the figures of the bats beneath her fingertips.\n\n\"Dancing? That's quite impressive, really. I'm no talent in dancing. Illusions and dancing must go well together, I'd imagine. Enhancement of the movements and such. I don't think that you were lying, don't worry.\"" }, { "author": "Vayra Vakara", "message": "Fortunately no fainting spell, indeed! Vayra seemed quite impressed with herself, quietly hiding the strain of that clutching detail as she casted. \n\nFantastic, Vix would say! A response that seemed to brighten that smile of hers surprisingly more than it already was. With a slight raise of her finger, so too would the Illusion of the Lute as it hovered a tinge higher between the two. \n\n\"Fantastic..? That's.. Like a really high compliment! I'm.. I'm glad!\" \n\nSpurred on by the approval, Vayra would add a little flair for the dramatic. With a giggle and another swish of that hand, the illusion would move forth attempting to make collision with the actual Lute now rested on Vix's lap. Attempting to overlap perfectly, and as it did, a snap of her fingers would force it to dissipate. \"It was fun to imagine. I love the little details of things. - So many stories to learn all about!\" - Perhaps Vayra meant her words subtly, curiousity of the bat-like patterns that traced the Lute. Of course, discussion of performance would distract her for the time being. \n\n\"It's one way I cast in the first place! I'm not.. Perfect at dance, but it's a style from my homeland. - Khisfire. I'd love to learn more, I can see just what effect performers can do to people. It's.. So impressive! And you..? You must play well, oh I'm sure of it!\"" }, { "author": "Victoria 'Vix' Stonespire", "message": "The woman dipped her head in a small nod, eyes following the path of the ghost-lute as it floated toward her. Slowly, Vix lifted a hand, passing it through the illusion as it settled over her own lute. As the image disappeared, her hand dropped back onto her lute, her fingers contacting the wood of the soundboard with an soft little \"Thunk\".\n\n\"Indeed it is.\"\n\nShe was rather intrigued by how pleased Vayra seemed with her comment. Victoria hadn't thought this to be anything more than a passing comment, but this one was apparently quite motivation by positive feedback. She supposed she couldn't blame her. It was nice to hear that one was appreciated from time to time. Her fingers resumed their tracing over the carvings on the lute. Her eyes were not on the instrument, and it seemed that this action more than likely held no significance beyond Vix wanting something to do with her hands. \n\nHer comment was not lost on Vix, but for now she left it untouched. It really wasn't all that interesting of a story attached to the lute, she thought, just a reminder of her family. Under different circumstances, she would have by now morphed her ears into those of her bat form and let her face morph into something resembling a snout. However, she had not. Most who didn't know what she was immediately assumed her to be a rat, and this irked her deeply. She was no rat. It was easier to simply appear rather ambiguous in species than to be mistaken for a rodent.\n\n\"As do I.\"\n\nHer head tilted lightly as she thought for a moment.\n\n\"No harm in not being perfect. Perfection is rigid and boring, I think. And... I like to think I'm talented. The lute is perhaps my worst instrument, but I find it to be the best for public performance. My whole family performs, and I've been playing since I was small. Started on the harp, then the flute, then the violin and then the lute.\"" }, { "author": "Vayra Vakara", "message": "\"Oh?\"\n\nThe Tiefling seemed particularly focused on the topic of performance now, of Vix in particular. Her illusion casting stopped, instead now leaning her elbows against the table and holding up the lower of her chin. Leaning in, with a look of intrigue at what little details the Shifter had to offer.\n\n\"Mhm..? Wait, wait. You know how to play all those instruments? Gods, how do you remember all that? All those little strings, I would lose my mind! Tsst, call me a novice, but that to me sounds very Talented..\" - Vayra offered with a cheery smile, playing along with that encouraging tone. Truly it did surprise her, expecting simply one instrument to be mastered. Vix seemed to be quite the diverse talent in Vay's mind!\n\nAn idea seemed to flicker in her mind after those words, one she so shamelessly spilled by the widening of her smile to a fang-filled smirk. \"Well... Not like I could actually tell your talents. I'm no Diviner, afterall! No, I'd have to see you perform.\" Vay seemed to be a little more cheeky in that tune, almost eagerly awaiting some reply. Her subtlety absolutely flopped. Her little request clear." }, { "author": "Victoria 'Vix' Stonespire", "message": "So she was interested in performing. Perhaps, she thought, she ought to give her a lesson in one instrument or another. The flute, perhaps. It was by no means the most forgiving, but it was one that was easily portable and not all too annoying to carry with her. She didn't often carry her flute, given that the sound often was lost to the wind and the instrument did not allow for her to speak while playing. She didn't often attempt to sing — she was well aware she was no great talent in that department—but it was nice to be able to talk without stopping playing if she was approached.\n\n\"I do. I started learning quite young, so I suppose that is why. I started on the harp. Quite frustrating, really. I would not call it talent, more skill, I do think.\"\n\nShe had a feeling that Vayra was trying to persuade her to play a song. This was just a bit funny for reasons she could not explain. Now there was a game to it. How obtuse could she be before it became clear that it was an act? She tilted her head, reaching down to curl a hand around the neck of her instrument, as if to lift it to her shoulder. \n\n\"Certainly... Some day I'd love for you to come see me perform.\"\n\nHer lips parted in a little smile, waiting to see what she'd do." }, { "author": "Vayra Vakara", "message": "\"Welll.. I'd call it quite the talent to have so much skill!\" - Vayra snickered at her own words, clearly not making too much sense as she snuck in that sly remark. Quietly for a moment her attentions flickered elsewhere to the Inn at large, and the level of people that generally hovered and lived their lives by the day. She imagined how many would enjoy the sweet tune of a lute, or the soft ring of a voice. A performance, all intended to boost the mood of those clearly needing it! And the payment after didn't seem such a bad price.\n\nBut it would be Vix who played a most cruel scheme! Those words practically clung to Vay's attention, the nonchalant nature of Some day. The Tiefling seemed to struggle in her smile as her mind tried best to collect just what that meant. Some day? Just how many days..? Vay fell for the swift bait, believing Vix to be simply mistaken in some manner. She needed to flip the words another route, a mix of persuasion as she finally found some measure of composure.\n\n\"Uhm.. Some day, yeah! Or, uh.. Well any day, really! Any.. Moment, mhm. Do you usually perform in.. Inns?\" - Vayra seemed to so desperately try to resolve her meaning, enough for the most blatant of glances at the Inn around them. Of course! Mention the Inn, and pray she liked to perform there! That would get her, surely. The clever Tiefling Trickster would hear her performance for sure!" }, { "author": "Victoria 'Vix' Stonespire", "message": "\"Is a talent not inherent? Or is the talent the ability to learn rather than the skill itself?\"\n\nTwo could play at this game. Vix settled back into her chair, her fingers continuing to drum a staccato beat against the soundboard of her instrument. She was barely holding back a smile, in fact, her lips had curled in over her teeth, and she'd averted her gaze from Vayra to the wall behind her.\n\n\"Oh? Inns. Hmm...\"\n\nHer hand curled beneath the neck of her lute, lifting it, then settling it back across her legs.\n\n\"Sometimes, with permission, of course. I never would want to be a bother. You must know how it is.\"\n\nA clever ploy, really, but the game had been begun and she was not going to be the bigger person and end it. She stared placidly back at the tiefling, her dark eyes as blank and stupid as she could make them. Her lips, which threatened to quirk up, and the rest of her face, for that matter, had more than likely begun to give her away." }, { "author": "Vayra Vakara", "message": "\"..Uh. I don't know, but.. You have it, mhm!\" - Vayra seemed to struggle following along, the chain of their little game escalating to the point of overwhelming the poor Tiefling. What she lacked in philosophical thought, would instead by offered by her shameless positivity. Vix was sure to see her smiles with her every word of encouragement.\n\nBut enough of that, the true challenge of getting Vix to perform seemed to continue! And surprisingly, her plan seemed to have been foiled. The Tiefling hid her frown under acknowledging nods, trying best to accept her words alwhile twist them to get what she deemed. \n\nThough the rug would soon be pulled. Vayra's worries seemed to freeze upon the awkward expression laying on Vix's face. Composure breaking, a facade slowly unravelling within the humour of it all! Surprise filled Vayra internally. Was she playing with her, by the gods! \n\nThe realisation brought a keen relief to her, Vayra seeming to ease as she soon realised that treading carefully wouldn't be so needed now. Instead, the Trickster within slowly began to take form. \n\n\"Uh-huh! I.. I guess you're right. Ooh..? Don't worry, I'll go tell the Innkeeper! I'm sure the crowd would love it, mhm!\" - And thus the tease began, her refusal to surrender being tested as she eased on up to her feet with a knowing smirk. Eyes gently hovering to the barside in careful inspection for the owner; offering ample time to give in to the Trickster, Vayra." }, { "author": "Victoria 'Vix' Stonespire", "message": "\"Really? This is news to me.\"\n\nVix was growing rather bored with this game, though not with the person before her. She had been quite pleasant thus far, and had yet to bite back in any way that was funny enough to justify continuing to poke at her. There was some concern that she would snap or even just grow frustrated enough to shut down. The former had potential to be funny, but the latter was always somewhat sad...\n\nOr maybe she'd been played.\n\nHer eyebrows flashed up as the tiefling spoke once more. She leaned forward rather abruptly, enough so that her lute nearly tumbled from her lap. Her hands shot forward to catch it, her thumbs thinning and elongating once she had. The nails had sharpened and lengthened, forming little hooks which she curled around the neck of instrument.\n\n\"Or...\"\n\nShe really had walked right into this one. Now she'd look foolish if she tried to escape it.\n\nWell played, Tiefling.\n\nShe didn't, however, speak such words. That would be allowing her the knowledge of her victory, which was far worse than the victory itself. Her shoulders rolled back to a poor attempt at leisure, eyebrows slowly creeping upward.\n\n\"I suppose you could do that.\"" }, { "author": "Vayra Vakara", "message": "The sights, oh it was clear now. Vayra was never the smartest of the bunch, but she knew the subtleties of someone when they seemed ever so blatant. Had she won..? Of course, Vix would never announce it. Still stood up, Vayra couldn't help but tilt her head with an almost knowing smirk. This little game was nearing its end, and it felt like the pair had already unveiled their playful nature already. The Tiefling would end it, with a most cunning move. \"I could..\"\n\n\"Or, maybe I'll..\" - Vayra started, a tap at her chin in playful fashion as she eased closer and closer to Vix's side of the table. \"..Steal the performance all for myself, hm?\" - And thus she would end it, her words stopping just as she made a lean close and rested her elbows against the table. Watching Vix slouch with a smile. \n\nThe tone wasn't the usual her, clever and trick-like betraying her words until an eventual softening and weakening of her plan. \"..Please?\"" }, { "author": "Victoria 'Vix' Stonespire", "message": "Vix knew she was by no means the most subtle in any room, but she thought that she had at the very least been somewhat clever. Really, that was all one could hope for in such situations: the opportunity to seem like the cleverest. There really was no competition in a formal sense outside of Vix's head, but the feeling that one had won was quite satisfying.\n\n\"Oh? So you are confident enough to perform now! Ha! Well, by all means. I would love to see your best attempt.\"\n\nThe game was not over, it seemed. Now there was hope that Vayra could be bested. She gestured rather broadly forward, falling into a comfortable slouch. Her lips once more had curled up into a smile. \n\nThis posture lasted only a moment, until Vayra's tone changed. So the game was off. That was unfortunate. Vix frowned, then leaned forward, quirking a brow.\n\n\"What would you like to hear?\"" }, { "author": "Vayra Vakara", "message": "The thrill of the game, the exciting tune of Vix that she hadn't truly managed to see until recently! All of that, hit suddenly by Vay's needy nature. But, not without understanding\n\nVayra seemed to pause as Vix's smile turned to a frown, the lean catching her off guard as if she had just realised how quickly the mood shifted by her very own words. It spoiled something inside of her, to see a moment fall flat. Yet still, a chance for redemption. \n\nVay's caution would slowly be mended by a recovering smile, still leaned against the table at Vix's side, lashes fluttering in thought. What would she like to hear? It amused her next words, simply imagining an answer that she expected Vix to want to hear instead. The Tiefling wanted to see that smile again, afterall.\n\n\"Hmm.. The perfect tune for a dancing Tiefling ready to make a fool out of herself..\" - Vay's smile lit up, using her words as a way to garner that confidence and ease back to eye the other patrons enjoying their meals and drinks. Clearing at her throat, she would attempt to grab the attention of the closest of future crowds. A smile showing after those eyes loomed over the pair. \n\n\"Hellooo, people of Brerith! Me and my friend here are.. Going to put on a little show! Please.. Don't laugh too hard.\" A playful snicker emanating from Vayra, her natural confidence seeming to be bolstered as she glanced back to Vix. Fully prepared to slow herself down if Vix felt uncomfortable, but Vay's attempts were to keep that cheery mood going." }, { "author": "Victoria 'Vix' Stonespire", "message": "The beastwalker's frown morphed rather quickly into a grimace, then into a smile as she took in Vayra's expression. What exactly did she hope to accomplish by making such a face? Was she trying to be endearing? Or was this some sort of other form of manipulation? Either way, it was the sort of thing that Vix was more than comfortable dealing with. She wasn't the most charismatic in a purely social setting, but interactions like these could be treated as performances. It didn't matter if she was being genuine or not. An exaggerated face or words that were just a bit Too Thought-out weren't out of place here.\n\n\"How specific. I'm quite certain I know a tune for that.\"\n\nShe did not. Interpretation of ambiguity was not one of her best skills, but that did not mean all hope was lost. There were plenty of tunes that were near impossible to dance to. She had not brought any music with her, as she simply cycled between the same four or so songs when performing on streets. However, there still were a few songs that she was certain her brain had lost the name of but her fingers could remember. There had to be.\n\nBefore she could think any further on this, Vayra was speaking. Quickly, the woman swung her lute up, fingers climbing to rest on the neck and across the strings. Her face had automatically morphed into an easy smile, eyes locked to Vayra. Her posture had changed entirely. Her spine was straight, her legs on the ground and her head turned to Vayra. She seemed utterly calm, and was still smiling.\n\n Once she was certain that Vayra had made eye contact with her, and that she was ready, Vix began to play. It wasn't a particularly fast tune, at least not at first. It was, however, quite steady in creeping up in tempo. Really, Vix herself wasn't certain where this song had come from, only that she'd vaguely learned it passing through Khisfire. Or maybe not. It sounded right for Khisfire, and she did not remember the name. Or the middle part of the song, for that matter.\n\nThat, however, was a problem for when she reached the middle bit. She had a solid minute or so to figure that out, and a minute was a long time. Her face remained fixed in a rather serene half-smile, eyes not on her lute, but on the tiefling in front of her. What sort of talent for improvisation did she have? Plauisibly, a talent stronger than Vix's, though that still remained to be seen." }, { "author": "Vayra Vakara", "message": "_Eyes, however few, now upon the pair. A natural smile encompassing the expression of the Tiefling, a trait readily apparent on the Woman who so confidently professed an act! In truth, dreading just where their little game had led the duo. Fortunately for her, Vayra wasn't entirely green at the art of performance. Knowing when to hide her discomfort, and finding ways to compensate. And with that, she'd find it in her stares back to Vix and her notable shift in positioning. To have a partner in crime was awfully nice, knowing well she wasn't alone in this. A smile offered, her mind set in anticipation for the coming tune to accompany her. And gods, was it a relief!_ \n\n_Tail dashing freely around her form, as a sandal-clad foot tapped against the wooden floorboards of the Alynthi Inn. Tapping to the tune, that all but caused a smile at its keen reminder. A Khisfiran tune, ever did Vix carry all manner of surprises! A fang-filled smirk evident on Vayra's glance back to the performer, the last direct stare before her own time for performance. Clearly, however, it was what she so dearly needed to muster that inspiration._\n\n_At first the awkward paces of a dance lacking choreography, her body the tool that slowly grew used to this familiar tune. A friendly snicker highlighted getting using to her pace, hopefully easing irritated eyes as her golden glaze flickered to the crowd. Soon enough, the Tiefling Illusionist would catch her groove!_\n.\n\n_And so she did, through moments of awkwardness finally catch on to the tune of Khisfire! The familiar heat of her home, and the thrill of her all-too memorable magic motions. The tapping at her feet followed the rhythm of the tune, the dancer's form fluttering with the motion of her hands, extending upwards and fluttering before falling down to match the upbeat tune. How the crowd learned to listen from the expert playing of Vix, with hope Vayra sought to reflect the tune in the manner of Khisfiran dance! She showed more than simply performance, but a brief view of Khisfiran culture and its fiery fun nature! Often times mid twirl would she share a glance back to Vix, offering a thankful smile throughout her usual playful tune. Vayra was finally having some fun in this moment, and with hope wished it reflected well on her own skills._\n\n_In truth, she wasn't bad at all. She had no true choreography in the moment, yet knew positioning and movements well. Her body seemed rather fluid, knowing well how to attract and allow focus on areas. - Like the swirl of her tail, rush of her long hair or the jig of her hips. All, fitting the tune of Khisfire well. Likely imagining however, an Alynthi tune that followed her wouldn't work well at all. - Thankful for Vix and her knowledge._" }, { "author": "Victoria 'Vix' Stonespire", "message": "The beastwalker's eyes remained on Vayra, her fingers continuing to pluck the strings of her lute. She was getting close to the part of the song she was pretty sure her mind didn't know, and that she could only hope that her hands remembered. Her ears, which had slowly morphed from human to a pair of small, black-furred twitching things, had pinned back against her head. Her face remained flatly held in an impassively serene smile.\n\nHer eyes, which were squarely fixed on the dancer, had fallen into a small squint. She really didn't know how this would go, given that this was not a song that she had danced to before. Part of her wished that the pair had discussed this beforehand, given that she thought that there was quite the chance for this to go wrong. However, she did seem to be holding her own. She was rather fun to watch, especially given that her success meant that Vix wasn't at fault for picking a terrible song. Her instinct had been right. Vayra was apparently quite comfortable dancing to Khisfire-style music. \n\nMore than that, it meant that she'd probably remembered the vague origin location of the song correctly. That was an additional benefit.\n\nNow she was at the part she was fairly certain she didn't know, and she was pretty sure her fingers were about to fail her. The tiefling was still dancing, and though she did seem to be glancing in Vix's direction from time to time, Vix herself wasn't quite certain as to whether or not she was actually looking at her.\n\nHowever, there was a rather simple solution to this, at least one that would prevent embarrassment on the part of both parties. She repeated the last measure, then brought herself back to the beginning of the song. A repeat. That was fairly safe, and an opportunity for Vayra to have a second chance at the music with the knowledge of what was coming.\n\nThat serene, professional expression remained, though it widened with Vayra caught her eye. She really was quite impressive, Vix thought." } ]	320	7,982
413.670732	1776-07-04	GuildPublicThread	[ { "author": "Vynixi Settia", "message": "Vynixi had been once again traveling for a long time. The last place had not ended well and left her feeling lost. Sure part of it was because she was lost. She still knew nothing about the rest of the world but what her small village had been like in Findara. She sometimes missed her home since the rest of the world seemed to be harder to handle. She knew that stealing was not a best way to live and yet she was made to seem like it's all she was back in another town. She shook her head as she'd forced herself to go without anything since than. Some of what was said to her was true and she knew what was wrong. But the way it had ended made her leave that day with her money she had gone with the owners bag and one of her own earrings that cost more than the piece of fruit she had taken from it.\n\nShe avoided any travelers who tried to take her with them as she had done that once and ended up in a Khisfire brothel. It took her years to get away and try to hid the mark left on her skin, it still hurt at times. She guessed the one who covered it had used bad ink and was probably infected some. Though not being able to see it made her just ignore it as she kept traveling. It took her a few weeks to finally come to a new small village, the market was small but it was close to the forest. Vy liked that as she could sleep in the forest than at least. There was always easier to hide in and not get someone trying to flirty or something with her just because she looked pretty. \n\nShe would try dusting off her clothes some and try to make her hair look maybe decent. Though she was sure it probably looked like a mess, she looked like a mess with worn cloak and clothes. They all had lost their bright color long ago with the sun bleaching them, she probably looked as homeless as she felt. Though today she wasn't going to care about that. Hearing some music from someone playing she would start to dance a bit, maybe she could get a coin or two to get something to eat today.\n-\n\nIf not she was okay with it, she just wanted to dance and feel free for a moment. Something she rarely felt anymore, but needed. It was hard just talking to a fox who couldn't answer back for weeks and move away from travelers just because she felt like she couldn't trust them. So, she would just dance to the music, letting the music carry her movements as she moved with ease. She danced with how the music made her feel, her little bells on her ankels and wrists adding to the rhythm of the song." }, { "author": "vrba_0475_._", "message": "Hopefully a good starting" }, { "author": "Thyme", "message": "Indeed none knew as little of civilization and the lands as little as a half-Dryad, a Leafling as they are called. Nor one who has spent the majority of their young life living in the forest and under the stars. The ease from the burden of most other races has certainly proved an advantage. There has been no real hardship. No brothels, or heavy tolls lay on her. Nor the weight of knowledge of just how violent and harsh the world can get. In this way, she perhaps is the polar opposite of Vynixi and it's just as well too \n\nThough that isn't to say she is unused to travel, and certainly not by any main road, so its unlikely they would meet on the roads or see any common folk. For her mood of travel is by forest and paths untamed, either as herself, riding her pet bear or turning into an animal herself to cross vast distances in a short amount of time. In this mode of travel, it is no wonder then that she arrives in a small village by the forest. And by small village, it certainly was that. One market, one blacksmith, one bakery, one tavern and so on. The locals fair village folk; trapped in the duality of time. Where the daily routines are such that time seems to stand still however ever marching forward with the passing and old of new. It's such a day where the sun is burning brightly and the sky is a clear blue. \n\nSo of course the market is well packed, as much as it could be for the locals and all sorts of items are on sale. The sound of chatter of dozens of conversations, laughter and indeed music are all buzzing around the market. There was indeed music playing from the market. It came from a stringed instrument that is being played by a young girl who is also singing, her voice melodic and bright, her songs singing about joy and all things bright, clearly a song about nature. Around her is a minagerie of life. Flowers of every colour to the extent even bees and small birds are around them. At each cadence of her song, the plant life seems to bloom\n\nA new. As the song rises and the strings pulled to the chours, the greens become greener, the colours pop in view and the birds swirl about and chirp. The woman herself clearly isn't of a common race. At first her hair seems green but on closer looking there is actually vines and leaves in her hair. She adornes a crown of holly bush and berries wrapped in oak wood. Her skin looks like its made of light wood- such as poplar. Though green vines show under her skin as blue veins would show in a human. Clearly some magic is at work here, and clearly she is having the time of her life \n\nAs this new character enters to start dancing to her music and song, she smiles brightly over at the other, clearing a space for her to dance freely and uninteruppted" }, { "author": "Vynixi Settia", "message": "Though Vy was not dancing in but a small space around her she was enjoying the sound and rhythm of the song. She couldn't see but knew the market was full, it was easier to make a small around herself as she would dance, marking the dirt around with her bare feet to make a small circle she knew she could dance in without running into someone else. This was something she'd learned to do in order to never go too far over, infusing just a little magic into the circle allowed her to make it so that she would feel a cool surge in her feet when she got on the line. It wouldn't seem like anything to someone watching but this allowed her to dance in the area she formed without going over a line or off a stage if she was on one.\n\nVy at the moment didn't care how she might look as she dance to the song. Her own little fox familiar would be beside the circle as it did a little stomp dance of its own. For however long the song lasted Vy would dance how she felt the music would move if it could. One of the things she's always been good at was dancing not to the normal beat others would but in a deeper way. This came from her lack of sight as she would move more to how it felt or sounded. \n\nOnce the song was over Vy would step back, letting the people around them decide what they wanted to do. She never asked for a coin, if they gave one she would take it. Though she also knew many who stole from the coins she got, it was just part of others realizing she was blind they thought of her as an easy target for stealing. Using her foot to make sure she was clear enough around herself before she'd kneel down to pet her fox. Her brown hair even though a mess flowed in gentle waves, a small blessing from her mother for having clear skin and soft hair, though that was mostly because of her race. Some of those things were a blessing and curse when it came to her blindness. Though she just chose to avoid most who tried to win her over since she knew it was because she was a succubus\n\nVynixi listened to the crowd that moved, some gave a coin or two but it wasn't anything she guessed that would buy more than a piece of bread. Maybe a stream was close by for catching fish but she doubted she would find one. After letting the crowds move she'd look towards the area of the one who played, they were talented and was lovely music. \"You're very talented, I can tell you have a connection to nature... Well least a love for it. Your very good with your instrument, have you taken long to learn?\"" }, { "author": "Thyme", "message": "While playing she keeps a half eye on the dancing girl, for of course it is now only the two of them in the market that is doing any such thing. Her dancing complimenting the music and song and vice versa. The rest of the crowd continuing their market wares and buying. Though by now, especially since there is two of them, they have gathered quite a crowd now. For indeed it a rare sight one sees a forest person singing and playing music and a blind woman dancing along with her. Surely from the crowd they have gathered that they will be the talk of the village tonight in the tavern\n\nWhile her eyes are half on the woman, it was just half. For indeed she needed to focus on the very music she was playing. Though when she does look over at this woman it is with obvious interest, noticing how the dancing is more in time with the music than the normal person. Its seems to be a deep connection with the music that others with sight would not have \n\nOnce the song does end, when she stops singing and playing music, the woman seems to stop dancing. The crowd give scattered applause and both of them some coin, which Thyme does accept to be polite, but looks rather puzzled. In place of this she forms flowers in her hands and begins to hand them out to the crowd, going up to each one, asking for their favorite flower before forming it and summoning it and handing them out \n\nAs the woman approaches, Thyme turns to face her and a wide smile forms on her face. She doesn't seem reproached or taken back by her species or the known fact she is blind, but is eager to respond. \"Thank you! I've been practicing most of my life to be honest, though its not as good as it could be, my early life was focused on my druid craft\" She explains. Druids- A well known term with varied connotations. To some- those who defend the wilds tooth and claw and make safe the wildlands, making them fruitful and green. To others, it means strange beings living in the dangerous woods, using strange magic\n\nShe continues however. \"But I know most instruments now I think, but I always like practising. Where did you learn to dance like that? It was really good! I don't know how anyone could jump into music like that and dance so well\"" }, { "author": "Vynixi Settia", "message": "Vy felt better after getting to dance. She felt more like herself now. She would smile at the few applause but stay put by her fox, not wanting to get bumped into while the crowd now moved away. She was glad that she got to dance even if it wasn't to earn anything. But getting some coins can help her with getting something to eat. She knew she didn't have enough for any new clothes so she just was letting what she had last as long as possible.\n\nThough Vy couldn't see what Thyme looked like she was still impressed by how well they could sing and play. Only once they said it did she realize more on what she was. A Druid? That was a surprise to have one in a village even if a small one as they always liked more the forest. \"It seems to have done you very well, I haven't heard anyone play the way you have and I have heard a good amount of people playing in my life. I probably have tried learning how to play like that if I could have.\"\n\nThem knowing most instruments was even more impressive as not many did that, only maybe 3 and they stopped. She would smile as it was very surprising \"Wow, that's a lot to learn, that's impressive that you have learned that much. That would be an accomplishment in my eyes... I uh didn't learn from anywhere. I just have always danced at how the music makes me feel or how I might image it flowing. I guess it's probably a bit silly to explain it that way. I never had a teacher, no money for that.\" \n\nShe would shrug as she was just always something that came nature to her, probably because it was said her mother was a dancer. Something she didn't always like having in common with her mother but at times it also was when she felt more free or alive. \"My names Vynixi... This might sound strange but do you go for drinks?\"" }, { "author": "Thyme", "message": "It takes the leafling to get away from the crowd, though to be said it is her own fault for staying around and handing out flowers. Not only that, but to create the flowers out of thin air. Such an overt display of magic would be rather uncommon, and as such makes the crowd stay a moment longer. This of course seems to be Thyme's plan. AA playful smile upon her face as she skips from one person to another, humming happily until the crowd is sated and the people return to their lives \n\n\"You flatter me too well miss\" She says softly. Even though she isn't singing, her voice still carries a musical note, her tone rising and falling like a breeze of wind in a glen. \"I am hardly a great player from some college or with years or practice, but I try my best, I thank you for your compliment\" She says brightly. \n\nAs she comments on her own dancing, the leafling raises an eyebrow and a look of surprise touches her wooden textured face but nevertheless soft and expressive as one would expent from the magical Thylen elves. \"You didn't learn how to do that?\" She asks with an open note of surprise in her voice. \"But I've never seen movement such as that, even from all the fae creatures of the forest could move with such grace. You must be truly blessed with the art, it was amazing!\"\n\nAs the other both introduces herself and asks her for drinks, Thyme smiles brightly and inclines her hed. Luckily she also speaks. \"It is a pleasure to meet you Vynixi, my name is Thyme. You know, like the herb! And also like the thing that makes people older...\" She says with a playful giggle to her voice. \"And yes! I would like a good drink, it means I gcan get rid of these metal shards people give me\" She says, obviously referring to the coins. \"I don't like metal, but they keep handing them out. I don't really understand...\"" }, { "author": "Vynixi Settia", "message": "Vynixi met it when she said Thyme was good at it. She didn't know anyone who could play like that or to play so many. \"I never been around someone who can play such a way though. You can play in a way it makes the air come alive with the music. I'm sure if I could see the music would be dancing in the area. Your voice also has beautiful note to it when singing and speaking. Hmm well you said you been playing a long time so wouldn't that count you as being one of those great players? Well I still believe you are one of those greats either way.\"\n\nVy was trying to not show she was a bit embarrassed by the compliments but there was no way to hide the slight flush of her cheeks. It been a long time since getting a compliment like that. \"My mother was rumored to be a dancer, someone many wished to see. I... Don't know if I said it's always a blessing because of my mother... I just started dancing as a child to try and make the ones who cared for me happy. I just kind of danced than how the music made me feel.\" Vy would shrug as she didn't see it being anything impressive, though she still wanted to be invited to dance for someone of higher status, though she knew it was just a far off dream.\n\n\"Thyme, that's a very unique name ro have. It's a pleasure to meet you. As for the metal it's coins, something used to buy food and clothing with in a village or town. It means they liked your performance so they want to give you something for it.\" This is always how Vy thought about it over someone begging for coins, she did what she did to entertain and if she got some to eat she would use it. \"This might sound dumb of me but do Leaflings and druids eat and drink normal things?\"" }, { "author": "Thyme", "message": "\"Oh stop, you're going to make me blush!\" She says, a note of playful joy laced in her tone, even her words seem to have magic sprinkled into it. Though one cannot see it physically, her voice is so bright that it gives one the feeling of being in a calm field on a summer's day, the heat of the sun and joy of spring seems to flow with her when she talks. Indeed she is blushing, a curious colour it is. For red does rise in her cheeks, but against her green tone and wooden like texture of skin it's a very curious sight to one who can see it \n\n\"And it's probably because I'm a bard! Well... Not really, well kinda, well...\" She says with a huff, realising she's tangled herself up. \"So I'm a druid but when I started to come to you know, villages and stuff, I saw some people sing and play and dance but use magic too! So I started to learn that, and since I have innate magic it made it easier. But it isn't my main magic, but something I do for fun!\" She says rather proudly. \"I'm surprised you haven't learned dancing though, you do it so well. It must be in your blood which makes sense if your mother was a dancer too, I'm sure she would be really proud of you!\" \n\nAt the mention of her name being unique, she huffs with a smile. \"Thank you! At least I'm nammed after one of the better herbs. Imagine if I was called like... Corriander or something, I don't think I'd like that... But I don't like metal\" She says as she offers the coins to her new friend. \"Do you want them? You got some too so why not more!\" She says brightly. At the question she seems utterly amused and pleased by it, her lips curling upwards into a smile and a small giggle escaping her lips. \"Its not a dumb question at all! Druids can be of any race so they eat normally. And yeah Leaflings eat anything too! Cause I'm like... A mix between an elf and a dryad so I guess I'm the best of both worlds! Though we usually make our own food with magic, or go hunt and fish for it and stuff!\"\n\nShe then returns the question in earnest by tilting her head to the side. \"Do you eat stuff? I mean like, I don't want to be rude but I've not seen your species before, wow that sounds rude. I don't mean it like that but yeah, do you eat normal people food?\"" }, { "author": "Vynixi Settia", "message": "Vynixi couldn't help but be happy to get to talk to someone and it being a nice time. All the ones she'd had over the last months had been nothing but people calling her names or being rude because she looked shabby. Her tail would swish behind her on the ground, she's been born with a more than long tail so if she didn't hide it with wrapping it around her waist it would drag behind her. \"Well is that a bad thing is someone is being honest about you being good?\"\n\n\"Don't worry I'm not a bard in the sense either. I just been good at dancing just as you took on being good at singing and playing. It must have been nice to catch on easy with your magic, you should be very proud with what you are able to do.\" Vy would frown a bit at being told her mother would be proud. She knew for a fact her mother didn't feel that way, she was given up because she got in the way of the life her mother wanted. \"I just been told she was, I don't know anything about my mother. She abandoned me as a baby because I was in her way of her life. I wouldn't say exactly she would be proud of me. Doubt even the ones who raised me would be if they saw me now, but it's okay I just... Try my best here.\" Vy knew she'd made mistakes so she wouldn't have made anyone proud now, she'd done some less than slightly things in the last few years.\n\n\"Well being named after a herb is not a bad thing, but I agree least it was a good one. Some of them are long and difficult to say when you have to go through the language barrier... I can understand not liking the coins as well but isn't metal part of the ground? I would think it would be hard to avoid metal completely. Well how about we use the coins we both got to get us a drink and maybe combined will have enough for some food.\"\n\nVynixi couldn't help but laugh a bit as it was funny ti her how they both were asking if they ate differently. \"I eat normal food, though some believe also that my kind feeds of of others... Certain energy.\n\n\"But we do like it when others are happy around us, so maybe it's a bit true. That's amazing you can make your own food, that would be a very convenient thing when you got hungry and aren't able to catch something.\" Vy's little fox would get curious and a bit bored with them talking and would go over to Thyme to sniff her, since she was more connected to the forest it wasn't a surprise the little fox familiar would want to see why." }, { "author": "Thyme", "message": "It is only when the tail of Vynixi starts to move does Thyme actually notice it. Those emerald green eyes widening and her head tilting curiously to the side as she spies it. Though she decides not to say anything as that may be rude. Still, it's hard to ignore it and she finds herself looking at it from time to time, though she does try her hardest to maintain eye contact. Despite her friend being blind, it would be rude and insensitive of her to not treat her like anyone else. \"Well, your honesty does you credit, you have my thanks\" She says brightly\n\n\"Oh I Love Magic\" She says happily. I mean I had to practice and stuff, and some druids can't do it naturally and need to learn. But it's because I'm half dryad and elf, so I was born with the ability to do magic which is really good. I know people who can't do it naturally learn spells, but it takes years and stuff... That wouldn't be good so I'm really thankful I can just use it you know?\" She says brightly, clearly the topic of magic is a well loved subject for her, but why wouldn't it be? Especially from a fae creature such as her, so closely tied to the realm of magic \n\nThough the sharing about Vynixi's mother changes the note somewhat, and indeed the news seems to have a visual and auditory effect on Thyme. The sadness from the news changes her hair to a more darkish colour, her skin and eyes changing from a shade of bright green to soft blue. The tone in her voice changing from musical and bright to hollowed and soft, one may even get the image of a winter's chill in the air as she speaks. \"Oh... I'm so sorry that happened to you... But you are doing great! Going to different places and dancing so well! You're doing a great job and I'm sure there's only good things waiting for you ahead\" She says, obviously trying to brighten the mood \n\nThough it seems as if Vynixi does that on her own when talking about metal. Like spring from winter; Thyme's attitude changes. Noted by a huff and roll of her eyes\n\n\"Uhh I get this alllll the time!\" She says before putting on a voice, trying to imitate a gruff man. \"Ahh I'm an angry blacksmith, metal is found in the ground, it's natural so why don't you use it, grr!\" She says before huffing again. \"And its true! Metal is in the ground, but its meant to Stay In the ground. It can't be replaced when dug up, it gives the ecosystem a part to keep going. Wood can grow back so it's okay to use, but not metal! That's bad!\" She says. Though her voice is still playful, while she is passionate on the topic, she isn't offended by it. In fact, she seems rather eager to explain her stance on such things\n\n\"And to make food is great, though we can't make anything fancy. Well, master druids can but I'm not there yet. The food and water I make is bland. It's really filling! But it doesn't taste of anything so its a last resort type thing. But you're right, we should use our combined metal to get drinks and food! Or I'll make food and just drinks! It depends how much we have, I'm not sure how these things work...\" She says with a hum\n\nThough the comment about energy makes her curious, with Thyme tilting her head. \"Your kind feeding off different energy? What does that mean? Dryads and stuff can feed of moon and star light or nature itself, but I can't do that since I'm only half. I don't know enough about your kind to be honest, but I'd love to know more!\" \n\nAs the fox starts to sniff her, Thyme looks down curiously, before smiling. She would smell like summer, the nature she is made of and wearing all bright and in full bloom. Her innate ability as a druid allows her the spell \"Speak with Animals\" On which she casts. \"Are you okay, my fox friend?\" She asks it curiously" }, { "author": "Vynixi Settia", "message": "Vy's tail would continue to swish a bit, it was a bit unique in how slender it was and the tip of its shape was the most unique. While most had a spade or pointed end, Vy had an end that looked like a rose bud having slight layers look to it and almlst looking like it could open up like a rose. She usually always hide it because of past bullying, but when she was tired she didn't think about hiding it the same way. But that was okay since she wouldn't have it stepped on for now.\n\n\"Ah magic is quite the thing isn't it? I can agree magic can be very helpful even if knowing just a few spells. Mine are all ones that don't help me well but it's still fun to learn. It seems like you have many gifts, you probably love learning how to use those skills.\" She would nod knowing that it was a good thing she just could use magic. Vy herself had tried to learn but didn't know more than a few light spells and the one she used to know her stage size.\n\nShe wasn't upset with having her mother brought up, for someone she didn't know there wasn't much for her to compare to. Though some had bullied her on the matter. A reason she had left in the end over staying.* \"Oh, don't worry. It's not that bad, I grew up in a nice orphanage and as you said I'm traveling and dancing so it's not like I have nothing.\" She though didn't believe nothing but good was ahead, she knew enough not to think that way.\n\n\"Sounds like you have many say that, though I'm not saying it as to take the metals out of the ground. Just that you can't really hate something that's part of all thats around us. I can't say I don't use metal though\" She would hold up her hand to let the little bells jingle \"I have metal for a good reason, help keep me kind of safe.\"\n\n\"Well bland food is still food in the end and well as for the amount we have we could have enough but depends on the prices they use. Some places will rob you with a price for something so simple.\"\n\nVy shook her head as she didn't understand how some places got away with that. Maybe it wasn't her problem to deal with anyways.\n\n\"Ah... Uh well I don't know if we really do or not but many like to believe we feed of uhhh energy of others together...\" Vy was a bit embarrassed trying to talk about that type of topic as she'd tried to avoid it and only really then done such things in the brothel. None ever with someone she wanted to with. \"I like the more saying we feed off happy energy. Makes it sound less uhh strange. I think I remember hearing about dryads doing that, I'm sorry you're unable to do that.\"\n\nVy's little fox would wag its tail happily as it looked up at Thyme, it did like her smell of summer, though what fox wouldn't like that smell? The little fox would yip a bit with its reply, saying it was fine, it was happy and liked her smell. Being a familiar it didn't look like a normal fox with its fur having a lotus patten in it." }, { "author": "Thyme", "message": "Of course Thyme would be even more interested in the tail since the end looks like a flower, and naturally Thyme loves flowers, so her eyes are drawn to it more than ever. It is only now that she speaks of it. \"I might not know what your species is, and I had no idea you had tails! Especially ones that look like flowers, that's pretty cool. Do the males have tails too? Man, I wish I had a tail... Does it help you with climbing and stuff?\" She asks like a curious bird chripping away\n\n\"Do you know those spells innately or did you have to learn them? And what kind of magic do you use? I know there's like, different magic schools and stuff but I haven't paid too much attention to that to be honest. I suppose you'd need to if you have to book learn the spells and pick a school and stuff, but as long as your magic helps you then I assume it's okay! As long as its not like necromancy or something...\" She says with a little shiver\n\n\"Oh!\" She says brightly as the mention of the orphanage being nice, her winter's chill seems to pass quite quickly at this and the summer returns. It seems her emotions react rather quickly and have a visable and rather strong impact upon her very body and voice. Though now that summer has returned all seems well\n\n\"I think you are right about the prices though... I have played in taverns before and I usually play for drink and food and not money so I don't really know prices, but if it's too high I will use my cool druid magic to make us food and stuff, but we should go see!\" She says before looking around the market with a little hum, \"I think it's this way... I think there is only one tavern here anyway...\" \n\nWhen Vynixi talks more about the energy, it's clear that Thyme still has no idea what she means. She obviously doesn't know about succubi, or that type of energy, or both\n\n* +\"Well that's pretty cool you take energy from places and people around, that must be pretty cool to do. And yeah I wish I could do it too... I mean hanging out in places of power where dryads do it make me feel better, but I don't think I can accually draw the energy directly. That must be a useful power\"\n\nAs the fox replies to her, Thyme giggles and smiles. \"Your fox is so cute. I'm guessing its a familiar? I only have a pet. Where did you get it and what does it do?\" She asks curiously before huffing and crossing her arms. \"And I don't Hate Metal use, I just don't like it! So don't worry, I won't go on a killer rampage when I see someone using metal, don't worry!\"" }, { "author": "Vynixi Settia", "message": "Vynixi hadn't realized her tail was out till Thyme had commented on it. She liked the tail? Most thought the end of her tail was strange and will it longer than normal it made it sometimes more a pain since it would get stepped on or she would trip on it. It was more tripping as a child but sometimes the tail had its own mind it seemed and wanted to cause trouble.* \"I'm a succubi, and yeah I have a tail. You think it looks like a flower?\" Vy would move her tail to always seem like she was looking at it, she'd not heard anyone call it a flower before, most just said it looked strange or deformed. \"Oh... Uh yes males do as well. We all kind of have them. We are kind of like teiflings, sort of a kind of... Cousin race I guess. Tails aren't always great, mines usually more in the way, it's... More a belt I use since I used to always trip over it since it's long and drags on the ground some. It can be helpful with balancing and I have used it to grab things. Succubi tails are a bit more flexible so we can use them a bit more freely.\" Vy didn't mind answering someone curious, she herself had been the same as a child. It was only natural to feel that way with new things.\n\n\"Uh... I guess I kind of did, I couldn't learn them through books. They aren't anything much uh mostly just little light spells like making little orbs of light, uh there's seeing with my familiar, and I do a sort of cold spell to help me find edges on a stage I might be on. The cold on my feet makes me know I'm at the edge of one.\" A curious bird Thyme was, but it was alright to listen. \"Well since there is no actual schools I don't get why they are called that. It should have another name I would think, finding a teacher was never in my book but I also don't feel connected with magic. I always liked dancing because it makes me feel free. Don't worry I don't want to do anything like that.\" Vy couldn't help but smile at such a small thing made a difference for likes or dislikes.\n-\n\n\"That's a good way to do it, playing for food or drink over coins. I never performed in a tavern as dancers are less wanted than someone who can play or sing. Not that some places are the opposite though. Well we can hope we have enough than so we can least eat something with a good flavor, though if not I'm sure your food or drink will be perfect for us.\" Vy would look around like maybe she was looking for a place but that was hardly something she could do. \"I just got here so I actually don't know where anything is just got lucky finding the market here, well guess not lucky since it just happens to be a small village.\"\n\nVy would sign a bit as it was hard not to flat out say what it was at this point. \"Good energy yes, most of my race likes doing extravagant things to get that energy: parties, dances, and working at places like a brothel. They like the buzzing it gives I guess.\" She would shrug as though she liked the feeling as well she never used her charm to win anyone over, she had too much of a bad experience with that as a child and the river. Which reminded her why she didn't go fishing, maybe she was more tired than she thought to forget such a fear.\n\n\"Oh Lily is by you, I was wonder where she was at. Yes, she's a familiar... Uh I got her when she was dying, I don't know got lucky and formed a pack with her. She's usually helping me around a bit so I don't get lost, traveling blind... Doesn't work great. She's also helps me see at times.\" Vy would smile as she held up her hands in a little surrender \"Don't worry I can understand what you mean. And that's good to know you won't do something like that. Shall we head to the tavern? I'm sure it's getting late.\"" }, { "author": "Thyme", "message": "\"Yeah! It looks like a rose bud, which is actually really cute. Especially since roses are pretty rare unless it gets a lot warmer, so it looks really good!\" She says as she listening with avid interest as Vynixi described what she could do with her tail. \"Help you balance and grab things? Wow that is pretty cool. I mean I only get a tail when I turn into an animal, but that's like... An animal and not me having a tail you know? Maybe there's a way to grow one, that would be good\" She says with a firm nod \n\n\"Well... I'm not sure why they are called schools. Maybe in the big cities there is places that teach different types of magic? I'm not sure. I could try and teach you some stuff if you wanted but I don't know if I would be any good at it, I'm not much of a teacher... But at least you have some spells right? So you know at least magic is possible for you if you ever wanted to learn more, you could become like a badass succubi wizard!\" She declares with a light laugh \n\nIf Thyme had any knowledge of the seccubi race, she doesn't show it. Though it is very doubtful that she would have. Druids can spend years and even decades not running into another druid, let alone a completely different race. So when she drops the hint about the different energy, the summer filled and happy Leafling completely misses it. Luckily, she doesn't focus on that and seems happy just to have a new friend\n\n\"Well, I play for song and music, you dance... What if we did it together tonight at the tavern! Like a duo? A band? We could make lots of metal coins for loads of drinks, then we could afford drinks that actually taste like something!\" She says, speaking as if she has just had the best idea ever thought of. Her voice full of passion and pride, rising smoothly into a joyful sound as she places hands on her hips and grin\n\n\"Though you are right... We should try and find the place, I know where it is! Come with me!\" She says brightly, taking her new friend by the hand and beginning to\n\nWalk with her down the market place, even so as they move around others, she doesn't seem to stop talking. Does she ever stop talking? \"So you have a familiar? That's pretty cool, so you can see from the fox's eyes? I can do that as an animal but not through a familiar. What is that like?\" She asks before she suddenly stops herself, letting go of Vynixi's hand. \"Oh, I'm so sorry that was rude to just drag you off like that, especially with you can't see. I just thought I would help. Sorry... But I can see the tavern, do you want to hold onto me and I'll lead us? Or are you going to use your magical fox friend?\"" }, { "author": "Vynixi Settia", "message": "\"A rose bud... I guess that's possible it might look line that. Thank you for saying its cute though, it's nice knowing someone likes me tail... I mean maybe you can? I don't know if a Druid and leafing can grow one since they are part of nature or not. It would be interesting if you actually can.\" Vynixi did wonder if Thyme could do something like that. If she could that would be amazing to see.\n\n\"You would teach me? Oh uh... Well I wouldn't mind learning something if you did want to try teaching me. But I can't say I will learn a lot, it's a bit hard to know. Though I don't know I want to be a wizard, I would rather be a dancer.\"\n\nVy would raise a brow as she would think about doing such a thing together in the tavern. \"Well I wouldn't mind doing that if they allow us to perform there. It could be fun to do and than yes get a few more metal coins so we could get some better drinks.\"\n\nVy didn't mind getting dragged along by her new friend, they were fun to talk to. Though she was still a bit hesitant to trust she also wanted to trust someone. Maybe they could become travelers together or something? Least that is just what she was feeling in the moment. \"Yes, I do have a familiar... Uh and yes, I do see with her eyes at times. It's okay, you were just wanting to help, you are just kind that way. I can hold onto you, I can't use Lily that much or I get headaches. Plus it's easier to be close to someone when moving through crowds than to try moving with a fox being lower in one.\" Vynixi would hold out her hand again as it didn't maker her uncomfortable at all being led." }, { "author": "Thyme", "message": "\"Hmm, well I can turn into animals. I don't think I can like... Half turn. I'm not sure that's how it works. So I guess if you wanted to see my tail just let me know of an animal and I'll turn into it for you\" She says with a bright smile. Of course the species that can turn into their animal half are the most common race. Though she seems to be talking about turning into an actual animal, rather than an animal person\n\n\"I can try and teach you for sure. Especially if you already have a feeling for magic we can start with a basic spell? Like a small healing spell or something! Or could start even smaller like making a camp fire or something...\" \n\n\"I'm sure they will let us place in the evening, I think we need to get a few drinks first to settle in and let them know we are paying for something and like the crowd and stuff. But since we played in the market I'm sure word of us will have reached there by now. It depends how nice the owner is, sometimes they even let me play for rooms too, I don't often take it as I tend to sleep outside, but you never know! This village seems nice so I'm sure it will be fine\" \n\nShe smiles at the confirmation, taking Vynixi by the hand again and making their way to the tavern. She walks slowly, taking care to avoid others and make the journey as easy as possible as they head into the tavern. \"Well that's a shame you get headaches from using your familiar. Do you know why that is? Maybe there is ways to make that easier or improve the bond or something. Or a healing spell to help? Hmm..\" She says as the approach\n\n\"Ah ha!\" She says as they arrive to the two story tavern. The building made out of stone but the upper floor hosting some wood. \"The Drunken duckling?\" She asks as she tilts her head. \"What kind of tavern name is that?!\" She says with a huff, before giggling lightly. \"I guess it's better than nothing though, come on, let's see if we can find a seat, just follow me, I won't let anything happen to you\" She says with a\n\nNote of firmness in her voice. Her usual playful attitude struck through with a note of determination, it seems she is pretty set on keeping her new friend safe. \n\nAs they enter, they come awash with heat from a large fire burning in a hearth at the back wall. The place is fileld with sound, from drinking and eating, to laugher and conversation. This isn't a big city or even a town tavern, so it isn't a complete mess or jumble. Though it does seem, since its the early evening, that most of the vilalge is here after their work day and resting. \n\nNot wishing to stand in the doorway for too long, Thyme is quick to move them both over to a two person table, next to one of the walls but at the middle of the tavern so they have good eyes on eveything but are out of the way so no one would fall into them. It's also a level they can both speak to each other without shouting. \"Well this place is... Nice!\" She declares brightly" }, { "author": "Vynixi Settia", "message": "\"It's okay, I simply was saying maybe you are able to do something like that. I don't know much about druids to know what you can do. But that's amazing you can shift into animals, that has to be a very interesting ability to do.\" Vy was amazed at all she was learning about her new friend, well she hoped new friend. She didn't know if they would want to be a friend of hers or not.\n\n\"Well anything is fine with trying to learn, I have yet to know many and we could both try learning things. I'm sure there are things we both could learn from each other. A camp fire would be a nice one to learn on cold nights, I usually can't travel fast so I end up being outside for a long time when traveling.\"\n\n\"It's still good to ask, some get very upset if someone simply starts performing there. But good idea of getting some drinks first, that might help for sure on them letting us perform there.\" She would follow Thyme through the crowd, it was good knowing she was going more slow now to keep Vy from getting lost or confused with moving to the tavern. \"The spell only lasts so long, I think it's a reason why it gives me the headaches. I couldn't though say for sure on why I get them if I do it too long. It might also be because my mind isn't used to seeing colors and shapes, especially ones moving around.\"\n\nVy couldn't help but giggle at the name of the tavern, it was quite funny to hear and it might even have such a sign showing a drunk duckling. Some places where quite interesting that way with the naming of places. \"Someone just wanting a unique name for their place I'm sure. I'm sure there are worse names someone's done before, so it's good it's not like 'the bloody corkscrew'. True enough there was a place called that, was very strange name, I didn't go inside that place. Don't worry, I will stick by your side, and thank you for making sure I didn't get run over by the crowd.\"\n-\n\nVynixi would smile at the warm that came in as it was a bit chilly with the spring night coming and her in worn clothes. In Khisfire their springs were just as hot so the cold was a night change but also one she wasn't fully dressed for. She would follow Thyme in and sit down with her, looking her way as she would talk. \"Your right this place does seem nice, I'm sure there is plenty of nice locals in here from a hard day's work. Less travelers I'm sure but that's fine for us if we do perform.\" Vy would pick up her fox and set it in her lap to lay down, wanting to keep it from getting stolen like in the past or have its tail stepped on. \"Do you see a drink list? I can tell you what the coins values are that we have if you can tell me how they look. Than we could know what we have for buying drinks.\"" }, { "author": "Thyme", "message": "\"It's pretty strange to get used to, to be honest. Well, I've been doing it so long that it feels pretty natural to me now, and the ability to talk to animals helps a lot. Still, I don't like staying as an animal for too long, I think I'd feel strange if I did it for days at a time or something, I mainly do it when I'm on my patrols or to cover lots of distance quickly, cause four legs are faster than two!\" She says with a laugh \n\nShe seems to be rather interested at the prospect of teaching magic as she hums and nods. \"I can try! I think we will start with the bonfire spell, that's a good idea and I'm pretty sure you'll get the hang on it easily. It means you can improve your magic and I can improve my teaching skills!\" She says brightly, though that seems to give her an idea, so she pauses and hums for a moment. \"I've been practicing my magic more and more recently. I'm better with elemental magic but I'm okay with the others. I've picked up a good few spells. With conjuration; I can create a small two story tower that lasts for a day. So if those metal shards are a problem to pay for rooms, I could do that for us tonight? It means we don't need to sleep outside or pay for a room? Also! I can hide our money in the fey realm so no one can steal it! Not that I think anyone would... But its good for hiding things so it doesn't get lost!\" \n\nAs her new friend mentions the name \"The bloody corscrew\", Thyme makes a small noise of disgust. \"Ew, I wouldn't name My* Tavern that. Not that I have a tavern... I'm not sure what I'd name one... Oh!\" She says brightly. \"Drinking Thyme! That's what I would name my tavern, cause like... Time! Get it?!\" She says brightly as if she has just spoken the wisest words of the land. Her arms folded and looking very proud of herself \n\n\"Drinks list...\" She says, muttering as she looks up at the bar. Luckily her eyesight is as sharp as an eagle and she can read even from their distance. \"Well, it looks like the most common drink is\n\nAle, I bet they make it here. It's only two copper for a mug of that. Then they have beer but that's five copper for one. Rum is ten silver and wine is... Ten gold a bottle?! Wow... That's expensive. I think. Gold is the shiny one so I guess that's worth more right?\" She says as she looks down and takes down her own coinage. \"So right now I have... One gold, four silver and twelve copper. I think...\"" }, { "author": "Vynixi Settia", "message": "\"I think I could see how it could be strange, it's probably with how it feels with being able to see when I was unable to for years. But thats amazing you can talke to animals I'm sure that does really help, and the going long distance with four feet over two would I'm sure go faster.\" Vy smiled a bit as she was glad for the different conversations they were having. It was surprisingly comforting not having to be forced into one she didn't want to talk about.\n\n\"I would love to learn that spell, if I can figure it out that is and yeah you can practice teaching than. Well I don't think I'm probably good with any type of magic, though I only really know light magic.\" Vynixi looked the way Thyme was, that really was an amazing spell though with the conjunction one.* \"That's really amazing Thyme, to make a place for a full day I'm sure is really hard to do. And what's the Fey relam? I never heard of that before but it sounds interesting.\"\n\n\"Yes, that was a bad name for sure for the tavern, maybe it was like a fight tavern or something like that? It's just my guess I suppose.\" Vy would giggle at the play on words that Thyme would use for her tavern name. \"That's actually a pretty good play on name for it, I like that name. Though I agree wouldn't be something I would want to do either, having a tavern.\"\n\n\"Hmm Ale isn't a bad drink, it's cheap and pretty common. Rum and the wine is a lot... Why would it be that much. Uhh do they have any mead? That usually isn't as expensive... Yes, the gold one is usually pretty shinny, uhh like a yellow color I been told and yes worth more. It would be good if we can use the coppers but we will see.\" Vy would shrug as she didn't know what the price for that would be. If nothing else they could just have the ale since it was still good. Do they have a food menu? That uh, would be good to know as well... I am kind of hungry... It's been a while since I last had something.\" Vy was a bit embarrassed that she was hungry right now." }, { "author": "Thyme", "message": "\"Well, it's not just animals. I can talk to plants too! Though they usually don't have much to say. And I can walk in and out of trees, that's pretty fun. Being a druid is awesome, you should become one! I think it would take a while to learn how to do it, but you'd be a gaurdian of the wilds and stuff and that's worthwhile!\" She says rather proudly, but despite her playfulness there is a hint of seriousness, a willingness to teach someone else her craft and become a protector of the wild things of the world, to preserve the wilderness. Obviously, given her nature and species, it's a route she feels very strongly about \n\n\"When you say light magic, is it like... Lights? Or healing magic? Cause I know some of either so we could probably make progress either way but it will be good to know what to focus on.\" As she is complimented on her spell; she feels heat rise to her cheeks, turning a deep red to contrast to the forest green. At the same time, it is like summer has lept into focus. In both sight and smell the greens of her become deeper but brighter in reaction to her emotion, the scent of summer and fresh flowers seems to grow. In fact the vines in her hair actually do grow several daisy flowers in response to the emotion, if only Vynixi could see it. \"Thank you... But I didn't create the spell. It's very specific though, if I do it tonight you'll get a better idea but I can only form certain rooms, I can't really choose differences. Like if I create a bedroom, it will have certain things in it, that I won't be able to change.\" She tries to explain. But for someone innate with magic, its clear describing magic is strange to her \n\n\"Ohh you're right maybe it was named after a special fight or something. When I was preforming once a fight broke out, some bandits came into the tavern and tried to rob people. It was really scary. But I don't think they would name the tavern after it. But who knows? I don't think opening taverns isn't for us, we will stick to\n\nPreforming\" She says with a little smile \n\n\"Oh, maybe I've misread the prices then, I don't really understand it much. But it seems the mead is only two copper? That makes sense I think. And food... Well there is bread and cheese for a two copper. Bread, meat and cheese is three copper. Stew is five copper and for roasted chicken meal is one silver. I think...\" She says, peering up at the sign and squinting. While she can physically see it, she must be having some problem actually working out. \"Maybe we should ask someone? You might be best to ask since you know more about money, I could wave someone over for us if you like?\"" }, { "author": "Vynixi Settia", "message": "\"I feel like I should have known that you can talk to plants as well. But that's really amazing, being able to do all that is so cool. And to walk in and out of trees, that would be pretty cool thing to do.\" Vy would stop to think about becoming one, it would be interesting* \"It's really a nice offer but I don't think I could be a good guardian. With being blind I couldn't do much, it's just one of those uh things that make everything more difficult. But I already like trying to protect the animals, I had tried with my little fox here, though I was too late...\" Vy would smile sadly down at her fox as she gave it a soft pet.\n\n\"Like as more like light, I can do a little healing but its not enough to do me any good with the injuries I do have. But yeah I have a more can make light type.\" Vynixi thought about how the scent kept changing around her as she wondered how Thyme could do that. \"You're scent smells more... Summery now, it's nice. That's amazing you are about to do that as well... Just because you didn't make the spell doesn't mean it isn't amazing that you can do such a complicated spell. I mean making a two story home for a full day is amazing. It's okay if yoy can't make it completely how someone might want it. It's still nice to be able to make a place to stay warm and dry in.\"\n\n\"Well that's just my guess but it's a bit strange thing to do to name it after such a thing. Yeah, let's stick with our performing and not going into something like that. I rather stick with my talents and earn a living that way. Maybe even get a place of my own someday.\" Vy would look towards Thyme and smile softly \"Though I'm sure you like staying in the forest more, which is a good thing as well.\"\n\n\"Well we could ask if needed, and if not we could get a drink and than see what we have left of the coins. I would just go with the smaller priced things... Maybe the bread and cheese for food but I also wouldn't have a problem with just thr bread either...\n-\n\nVynixi would frown as she thought about what she now needed to do. \"Before you... Get to close to me you should know I'm not... Fully a nice person, I done some wrong things with my past. I just... Don't want you to find out that all later and than hate me. But I have stolen before and done things that I'm ashamed off for a living at a time.\"" }, { "author": "Thyme", "message": "She smiles brighly as she is complimented more, which does little to abate the summer scent she is giving as her emotions come in line with her joy, giving off such as a reaction. \"Well, I think you would make a great guardian! Even if you can't see I'm sure you'd be awesome, I believe in you\" She says happily. \"And even though you were too late with Mr Fox, he's a familiar now! So he's still here!\" She says. The endless beacon of optamism shines from her like a lighthouse it seems. \n\nThough on the topic of magic, one such as her does become more interested. \"Well, the fire would should be easy for you then, and we can try and expand that too if we can, though maybe not when we are drinking... I don't think magic and drinking works out too well.\" She says with a small smirk. \"But you asked about the Feywild. So it's basically like...\" She huffs as she tries best to describe it. \"A land of magic. But Infernum and stuff is evil right? Then you have that good magic place... Well the Feywild is like neutral? It's choas and change, so it is dangerous. But it's not good or bad. Take nature for example, it's not good or bad, even though flowers are nice and fires are dangerous. It's kinda like that, it's got good and bad to it as well\" The explination probably wasn't for the best. But its rather obvious as only being half-fea she wouldn't know it in great detail, and she seems rather young in years too, so probably hasn't seen it herself \n\n\"But don't worry, even though I like staying in the forest, I'll make that house tower spell thing tonight. I think that will both do us some good as well cause sleeping outside all the time can get sore after a while.\" At the changing smells comment, she smirks lightly, shaking her head. \"It's not really me doing it. I can't really control it. My emotions cause it, but so do the seasons. So in the winter I'm usually sadder and stuff, and then that changes how I look and the scents I give off, emotions do it too, strong ones\"\n\nAfter a moments cause, she considers the options of the food and drink situation. She views Vynixi and her limited knowledge of culture is of someone not well treated. Plus they have been sitting here for a time. \"One moment\" She says as she gets up, taking the coins with her as she strides confidently up to the bar. What follows is a conversation with the bar owner, detailing how her magic can help him. A normaly person may have to prove such things, but Thyme, with her dryad nature of skin literally looking like wood and plans growing from her seems to do the trick. At any rate she returns after perhaps five minutes with a tray laden with things. Two mugs of mead, two hot stews and a small platter of bread and cheese. While some silver are gone, it's from her own pile. \"Okay, so, there's mead and stew and stuff in front of you, do you need a hand eating or something? Sorry if that's rude... But don't worry about the money. It cost me some but the owner said he will give us this if I help him grow his weat and barely. He grows it in his feild to make the drinks and I can help with that, so it's all good!\" She says in her bright, musical voice \n\nBut then her tone takes a edge of confusion and seriousless. \"But tell me about this bad stuff? You seem like a nice person, but everyone makes mistakes so I'm sure it's okay... Though you don't need to tell me if you don't want to, it's completely up to you\"" }, { "author": "Vynixi Settia", "message": "\"Well maybe can try out being a guardian? It's at least worth a trial and if I can't do it well can always say I tried it. I mean I love animals a lot for some reason. Which is strange since I was not around animals growing up and than only met my fox later on. Of course that doesn't mean anything maybe it's something to do with my father, since I do know nothing about him.\" She would smile as it wasn't a bad idea to try doing such a thing.\n\n\"The fire would be nice to learn and yeah I agree on the not doing it while drinking. That would be a bad idea to do for sure. Best to learn that when we aren't drinking.\" Vy would listen happily to her explanation of the Feywild, it was quite something to learn about but made sense \"I guess I didn't learn about any of that in the orphanage so that is actually interesting to learn about. It's nice learning about some of those things since I never thought about all that before.\"\n\n\"Oh well you don't have to do that if you rather not, but you are right that it does cause a person to be sore when constantly sleeping on the forest floor. Not all places are even ground or has a plush grass.\" At learning more about her new friend she couldn't help but really be amazed that a race could actually be like that. It was so different from what she was used to for races. \"Thats actually amazing your body is well designed that way, to change with seasons and than emotions. I don't think I would have ever thought someone could be like that. It really is impressive that a race can be that way.\"\n\nVy didn't know what Thyme was doing as she left but would just wait patiently. She must had wanted to do something or get something so it wasn't a big deal. Once she would return with so much food it was a bit of a surprise, and for her to be able to get it for less than by trading was a surprise. \"You didn't have to get all of this, Thyme. I would have been okay with the cheaper stuff especially since you traded to get some of this.\"" }, { "author": "vrba_0475_._", "message": "Vy would feel a bit bad for it costing something from Thyme with helping out, but she was also thankful for Thyme being so kind. \"Thank you for getting all this... Oh just tell me where it is in front of me like thinking of the table as a sun dial, left to right. As long as I know the position of where things are I can get it fine after... Uh right the bad things. I suppose I want to tell you so you don't just... Think of me the wrong way. Let's say the last persons I met thought of me only in a bad light... But I have stolen before to get food, I know it's no excuse to say it was only a piece of fruit or bread here or there.\" Vy looked down at her lap as she knew it was not good and she was ashamed of her things she'd done. \"I always paid it back later for it... But I should have just gone without anything over stealing I know... But I done it at times because I hadn't ate anything in 4 or more days... I'm sorry I'm just making excuses again, but yeah I have stolen food before. The other was I had to work at a brothel because of... Well someone took me when I left the orphanage a few years back. I just... Want to be honest with you now so you know who you be around. I don't steal anything else but food and I have paid for it later... Just after I finally could get some money for it.\"" }, { "author": "Thyme", "message": "She nods slowly, before rolling her eyes at how her nodding was a stupid thing to do since her friend can't see. Regardless, she sets up the food at Vyini's sice of the table. \"Alright, so right in front of you is a bowl of stew. The spoon is to your left side. To your right side is a small plate with bread and cheese. To your left side above the fork is a mig of mead. Are you sure you don't want any help or me to feed or drink help or something? I don't mind. Do you need anything else?\" Thyme is obviously quite eager to make sure her new friend is well cared for. But at the same time it seems she doesn't realise how annoying it can be for a disabled person to be asked that all the time... At least she is trying \n\n\"Oh and don't worry about me helping the owner. All I need to do is encourage the plants to grow more and make the soil richer, it helps me practice my magic and means I get to talk to the wheat and see how farm life is. Not great I imagine since it gets cut down and harvested you know... But I won't tell them that, plants can be kinda sensative about those things...\" She says with a small giggle \n\nBut then she listens intently to what Vy has to say about her past. She doesn't start eating, waiting until her friend begins, so her head in in her hands, elbows on the table as she listens with a small frown on her face. \"Well, I don't think the stealing things is that bad. I mean yeah its wrong, but you paid it back and only to stop from starving so that sounds pretty reasonable to me, I mean compared to someone who just steals for fun right? I'm not sure what a brothel is but I'm sorry you had to work there if you didn't like it. But now if you have money you pay for food, and we won't need to pay for rooms cause we are staying in my spell home tonight so I mean, it all seems to have worked out in the end!\" She says brightly. Does this girl Ever* Get sad? It seems not \n\n\"Oh and he said we can preform after our meal so that should get us more metal\"" }, { "author": "Vynixi Settia", "message": "\"Thank you but I'm really okay once I know where to reach for. You been a lot of help already and you should enjoy your own food as well.\" Vy would give a soft smile as she was thankful for her new friend, they really seemed to get along well even with their differences. Which for Vy meant a lot to her at the moment.\n\n\"Oh goodness, that wouldn't be good at all if the plants got sensitive over that, the owner would very much be displeased than. But I'm sure it will be nice to practice your magic more and get to talk to the plants. I didn't think too many tavern did that anymore, though I suppose with it being a smaller town it's bound to happen.\" Vy would get a piece of bread and feed it to her fox as they talked a bit, was best to let the stew cool a bit before trying to eat it and if she didn't give Lily some food she'd just try to steal it off the table.\n\n\"It's wrong yes, but the last ones I met were very against it... To them it was you don't eat if you don't earn anything. Which I see their point on it, though to be so against a person and well say in so many of words you will get no work as a dancer because no one will trust you won't steal from them.\" Vy would shake her head as that whole day had just been almost a bad omen.* \"I never stolen to just steal, and if someone's hiring me I will have enough to pay for a meal or whatever else. I wouldn't need to steal from them, there are worse ones than just stealing some food for a moment. As for the brothel it's a place slaves or ones who want to go to please others in many ways, it just depends on the client you might get for the time. But you are right, it does seem to be working out, thank you for not acting well badly for what I had to say.\"\n\nVy would pull the stew towards her a bit before trying it, it really did taste amazing. Lot better than some of the stuff she'd ate to survive this long. \"That sounds like a good deal, it will be fun to dance after actually not being hungry\"" }, { "author": "Thyme", "message": "She seems to relax a little once that she knows her friend will be okay with the eating. Though at the comment on the plants she laughs a little. \"Oh don't worry, its not like talking its like... Emotions? So plants can't think and talk like we can but they give emotions and vauge soft of half-thoughts. If that makes sense\" She explains. The comment on the tavern growing its own supplies confuses her, tilting her head to the side. \"Most don't do that anymore? Why? I thought it made sense for the tavern to grow the stuff it uses cause then you know, it can make the stuff.\" Obviously being new to civilisation for the most part, she wouldn't know about trade or imports and exports\n\nBut from then she does begin to eat. She doesn't seem to have any reservations about eating meat and seems to rather enjoy her food, though does so slowly, obviously wanting it to last for some time, especially if this is their meal for the rest of the night and they are about to preform. When she sees the fox familiar getting fed, she smiles rather happily, watching the exhange with her excited, emerald green eyes \n\n\"Very against it? I don't understand... If you don't eat, you'll die. So you had no choice. If you just then left I would see how that would be kinda bad... But you paid things back. So I think that makes up for it. I'm not sure who these people who think it's really wrong is, but I don't think it is, I think you did the right thing\" She says firmly. \"But I am sorry you had to work in like a pleasing slave house...\" She says, not really getting the concept, but able to empathise since Vy seems to feel bad about it. \"Hopefully that doesn't happen again.\" \n\n\"Speaking of dancing. What kind would you prefer? Something upbeat and joyful? A slower sort of tone or something? Oh and what instrument would you like me to play on? What makes the best sound for your dancing?\" She asks in a rather excited tone, obviously excited about their preformance coming up" }, { "author": "Vynixi Settia", "message": "\"Oh I guess I didn't know that about plants. But that actually sounds pretty cool either way with them still having emotions and half-thoughts. I'm sure the plants will still be happy to see you and have you talking to them.\" Vy would smile as she thought about what type of emotions or thoughts they would have. It really want interesting to think about. \"Oh, well most get them shipped in from others places for a price. Some places can't keep up with the amount of customers or load so they get it from other places.\"\n\nVy would be happy to eat her meal as it tasted great to her, letting her fox having some of the food too as it was just how she was. Always giving have the food to her fox was regular for her. \"I know, it's how I thought as well... But some just didn't think that way. Yes it was wrong but it was so I could survive. Maybe they just were very... Uh good natured or had a bad experience with thieves? It's was fine they didn't like me for that but... How they handed me returning a bad that this little one took drew a lot of attention to me... Pretty much making me seem like a thief fully so I didn't stay there once getting the bag back to the owner and since I didn't have any metal the one fruit I did have was paid by something more expensive since my earing was expensive.\" Vy would shrug as she played it off as nothing bad \"Just got the one earing now but it's okay, least I still have my necklace, I didn't want to part with that.\"\n\n\"Oh I don't mind what I dance to, I'm usually just going with whatever the music goes. I never really picked a type before to dance to. Oh uh I didn't know about the instrument, I know my bells usually go good with any instrument I have danced to.\"" }, { "author": "Thyme", "message": "\"Thank you\" She says brightly, and her voice sounds deeply honest. This is in response to Vy saying the plants would enjoy talking to Thyme. It seems to be a great compliment to her. But what's interesting to her is the explination of how taverns get their stock. True, to another this would be basic knowledge, or not that interesting even if just learned. But to Thyme it seems pretty interesting, resting one elbow on the table, huffing lightly as she tilts her head. \"So they can't keep up with demand so order in? I guess that makes sense but then why not just make a larger field to grow stiff? Then you don't need to pay for the delivery right?\" \n\nShe then intently listens to the story that Vy has to say, learning more about her past and how she was treated. Once again this seems that her summer attitude deminishes a little at the sadness of the story. It doesn't go the the point of winter, perhaps a passing breeze of fall, the summer scent and look fading a little but still present. \"Well, hopefully you don't meet anymore people like that, who act in such a bad manner. And I'm really sorry you lost your earing! I know people use metal for decoration of their bodies. Maybe we could get a new one for you if we get enough metal coins? That would be nice, I would like to do that for you. Do you know how much these cost?\" She says, once again the air of summer fully flowing at her idea to help her friend. This isn't a person that is sad for very long. Though one must wonder how she is during actual winter\n\n\"Hmm, well not drums, that would over shadow the bells. I can't sing with a flute... How about a zither?\" She asks, refering a box with strings as long as it, very similar to a guitar but not quite. \"That would give an upbeat tone along with singing and the bells, lets go with that!\"" }, { "author": "Vynixi Settia", "message": "\"Well some done have enough time to do more fields, especially in big cities where there is usually more than one tavern your well competing with. So ordering in is better because your focus isn't split on land and the business. Least that's how I see more of it working.\" Vy did quite enjoy sharing her views on some things as it wasn't everyday she was able to share anything at all. She was limited on her knowledge since she couldn't read but she still understood some basic principles in life. Trying the mead she was pretty surprised at how good it was, it always tasted better than ale but that was just her taste for drinks, she liked a bit more fruity or sweet drinks.\n\n\"Hey its nothing bad, you don't have to feel down over something in the past. Some just act a bit more... Rash I guess. Well I think if I find someone to trust and travel with it will be easier. Traveling alone and blind is harder to do and makes many take advantage of it.. Oh you don't need to do that, I just kept them for kind of emergency I guess. So if I needed to badly I could try selling them. Though most wanted to give way under because they thought I couldn't tell the value.\" Vy would smile as it was nice of Thyme wanting to get her something. \"If I'm being honest I need to get some new clothes first, I'm sure mine are pretty bad.\"\n\n\"Well that sounds like a good plan for an instrument to dance to and yes I'm sure they will enjoy your singing as well. Best give them a good performance if we can especially with the owner being so generous.\" Vy was honest excited to get to dance for people on her own terms in a tavern, she was usually not allowed to since they thought she'd just fall and make a mess. So getting a chance was great." }, { "author": "Thyme", "message": "\"Ohhhh...\" Sge sats wuth a little huff, shaking her head. \"Well that makes sense. I mean if you're running a tavern you don't exactly have time to be a farmer do you... Why didn't I think of that? That makes sense. So I guess this guy does it because it is a small village and he has enough time to do it, but in a town or a city he wouldn't have time because too many people!\" She says brightly, as if she had just told the teacher the correct answer in school. Though, she's never been to school. \"Wow that makes perfect senese, you're teaching me a lot so thank you!\" She adds brightly. After her meal she seems to move onto her drink as well. This is taken more slowly still. Either to savour the flavour, or because she isn't sure how alcohol really reacts with her yet. Or perhaps still she doesn't want to get drunk before they preform, but its evident she enjoys the fruty drink \n\n\"Well... I ubderstand travelling is hard, I couldn't even imagine what it is like blind, it must be really hard. I wish there was something I could do to help but I'm not a cleric or anything... Though maybe we could find one in the city who would help? That might be a thing?\" She asks hopefully. She doesn't have knowledge that things like that are fairly complicated spells and only those well entrenched in the healing magics knows how to cure something like that. \"Well, even if you don't get your eering we should for sure go clothes shopping with what coin we have. I'm not the best person for fashion advice though\" She adds with a small giggle \n\nTo their conversation on preformance she seems to agree readily with a nod. \"For sure, you're right about the owner being generous which is nice. Do you want just the music so you can dance to it? I don't need to sing, I can take it or leave it. I think I will put on a preformance with magic though, Flowers and stuff like that, that always seems to have a good reaction\"" }, { "author": "Vynixi Settia", "message": "\"Yeah that wouldn't be as easy as just running one. The good thing though is people are able to sell the crops to the tavern so it does help many people to be able to keep a house and food for their families.\" Vy would chuckle as how excited Thyme could be, it really kept a cheer feeling in the air. \"Well I am just sharing the things I know so it's not that hard. I'm glad you are enjoying learning new things.\"\n\n\"It's hard to travel yes, but it's not the worst thing. I hate water... Especially rivers which does make trying to fish uh difficult as I just won't get close to one. Oh, I don't think I can get healed as I was born this way. It's not like I just lost it because of an accident. But I mean we can always look for sure if you would like to, though it's not needed.\" Vy didn't mind being the way she was, sure at times was hard but it wasn't bad when you grew up blind. \"Oh well getting clothes at all would be nice, they don't have to be great looking just need to work.\"\n\n\"Don't worry about singing or not with me, do what feels best to you in the moment. I simply go with the flow in whatever it might be. But that sounds magical either way if you do some magic with it.\" Vy would smile as she was excited to get to dance to someone's music and perform. It was more than she ever expected in long time, and to make a new friend, that was what made her the most happy actually." }, { "author": "Thyme", "message": "\"So if they make excess crops they can sell that too and get things they need, like food or clothes. Huh...\" She says as if deeply considering, one hand on her chin and stroking it gently. \"That's actually a pretty good system, no wonder you guys use it!\" She says happily, before looking back up at Vy with a large smile, even though she wouldn't see it. \"Well, even if it isn't hard for you, thank you for teaching me. Especially since this knowledge is needed when going to places like this. I'm glad I met you and not someone less friendly, then I would be in trouble\" She says with a shape of her head as she sips her mead \n\nShe seems dismayed and surprised about the next statement though. \"You... Don't like water?\" She asks with a small tilt of her head. It's not said in a mocking way. But it's like Thyme literally cannot understand the concept, she is unable to process that information. \"I... Don't understand. Well... I guess that's why they have bridges right?\" She says with a little giggle, though obviously remains very confused. \"But yes, getting new clothes. We are in Enter season here* Now, but we will want travel clothes for you. Something warm, boots, coats and things like that for the rain. Hmmm... Okay. Let's see what we have at the end of the night and we can work it out together! You help me and I help you!\" She says brightly. \n\n\"Alright, we will sing and play and dance. People should like that I think. Ohhhhh I have an idea. Yes. An idea.\" She says, nodding and humming like a mad scientist. She gives no hint to what this idea is however as she sits back and finishes off her mead. \"I've finished my drink, but I'll probably not drink anymore until after the preformance. I don't usually get drunk, especially not before playing music, I don't think that would go down well. Especially since I almost burned down that tavern... But lets not talk about that right now!\"" }, { "author": "Vynixi Settia", "message": "\"Exactly, that's one of those good things to have for a lot of people in the end. It's a really quite amazing how so many people can come together from other places to make so many well foods and drinks.\" She would smile as she was happy to get to share her thoughts more with someone, especially since no one thought she was good enough to say anything worthwhile.* \"You are right, knowledge is needed when traveling as you don't want to make a mistake by saying a wrong thing or by doing the wrong thing. It's quite a lot to deal with at times.\" Vy would chuckle as she was happy for a good friend to talk to as well \"I agree it is very nice getting to talk with someone friendly, it's very nice actually.\"\n\n\"Uh... It's not really I hate it, it's more a fear of well deep water like rivers or lakes. I had a bad experience with it as a kid... Uh fell into a river and because I can't see up and down doesn't exist when in the water... So I well had a bad time with that.\" Vy would tilt her head as she thought about the clothes she really did need. \"Yeah I guess I didn't need clothes like that, but we can just worry about the uh small things first... I don't need boots yet, it's not that cold at night or during the day I suppose yet. But I agree with the help each other, would be a good thing for us both.\"\n\n\"That sounds great, I'm excited to get to do all this and with you. It just seem like a lot of fun. Uh maybe we will do a bit of all of it, just do some stuff to wow the crowd, give them a lot of fun to see. Though you will have to show me later what you are planning as I won't probably see it. Oh I also need to see or more feel the stage before we start so I don't go falling off it.\" Vy would chuckle as she knew it eas nit that big of a deal she's done it before." }, { "author": "Thyme", "message": "\"Hmm, you make a really good point. I mean we have different foods and stuff and it's all great. But I have heard that people in towns and cities get really creative with making food, different places and cultures do different things with food as well? It all sounds so good. I think that should be a thing I should do, go and try all different kinds of food and stuff, I would like that\" They have both agreed it has been a fortunate thing that they met each other. To the point Thyme almost suggests that they should contining travellingtogether. However she stops herself, having the self-reflection to think that may be to presumptionists \n\n\"Oh... Fear deep water? That makes sense given your condition... Yeah that makes sense now, and I'm sorry. I don't really know how to fix that. Though if you were to fall in water I could make you float or get my bear friend to come in and get you! So you wouldn't have to worry!\" She says brightly. As Vy talks about the need for new clothes and what type, it sparks a plan in Thyme's mind. But she isn't one to share that plan\n\nThough she is more relenting with her other idea in mind. \"Alright, my idea is to make rose petals fall around you while you're dancing, I know the magic for you. I don't think it would get in the way. Like it wouldn't block your way or anything and I don't think you'd slip on them, but it's up to you or not! I usually make lights or plans and flowers when I preform, it adds to the preformance and people usually like it when it happens. And don't worry, we have a whole space in the corner to set up. I'll make an area with vines for the stage edges so you know where it ends!\"" }, { "author": "Vynixi Settia", "message": "\"Well trying all different kinds of food does sound like a lot of fun, i don't know what all I would eat if i tried food from different places but I think it would be fun. Maybe we can go looking for places... Uh travel around and try food? I mean that's if you want to do something like that. If you would like to do that... Well with me?\" Vy didn't know if she had overstepped by asking that or not but it was something she thought could be fun traveling with a friend.\n\n\"Yes, it's not something I like being around. But thank you for saying you would do such things if I did fall in. It was one of those things I have a more fear for with it all having happened how it did in the back.\" She would rub her neck feeling a bit embarrassed with such a fear but it was just how it went for her.\n\n\"Oh that sounds really pretty, I'm sure the crowds will like seeing that a lot. I wouldn't trip on them either as I been dancing barefoot for a long time, so I say go with it. And do whatever else you want to do, this is your performance as well so you need to enjoy it too.\" She would smile as she wanted them both to be in the spotlight. That was the main thing that she wanted for them." }, { "author": "Thyme", "message": "Where Thyme thought she would overstep, it seems Vy steps in naturally to fill the gap. Indeed, the topic of Thyme using her magic to create a dwelling for them both may have seem hasty, if not very convient. She for sure thought she would be shot down if asked for more travelling with her newfound friend. The fact Vy asked first creates a gust of summer from her. Though most of it would be missed by Vy due to her blindness, one could not escape the smell of fresh flowers and the scent of freshly cut grass for but a moment at the offer, which leaves Thyme beaming. \"I was going to suggest that, but I didn't think it would be too far. But I would love for us to travel more. We could preform where we go and try all kinds of things! And you know more about well... People and civilisation than I do, and I can do a lot with magic! So we would help each other!\" She says brightly. If she wasn't in a good mood before (which she was), this increased it tenfold \n\n\"Well good, I'm glad you won't trip. We should start until it gets too late, it gives us time to collect metal shard... Coins, too, and we might even get free drinks! A few people buy you a drink or something\" She says as she rises from her seat. \"Alright, I've got my hand out directly in front of you, you can take it and I will lead us to the empty area we can preform, or you can follow behind me\" She says in her firm, protective voice. Much like she was when leading Vy through the crowd in the market" }, { "author": "Vynixi Settia", "message": "\"Oh you are not going to overstep with asking to travel with me, I'm more than happy to have a travel friend. It would make it a lot more fun and well safe to have a friend by me. And you and me, we seem to get along well, so I think we can definitely be able to make it around and go off trying different foods. It sounds so exciting to be able to do something like that.\" Vy would chuckle a but as her tail was swishing slightly behind her with her excitement. \n\nShe would smile as she took Thyme's hand and\n\nShe would smile as she took Thyme's hand and got up, she was fine with following close to her.* \"Thank you, I think i will follow you like this just in case there is more tables than I can handle. Don't want to pick a fight with them\" She would smile as she thought of it as a funny joke being fighting a table\n\n\"Oh your summer breeze seemed really nice too, you were excited to have a travel partner as well? I'm just guessing here so you can tell me if I'm wrong. I don't want to overstep.\"" }, { "author": "Thyme", "message": "\"I'm really glad. I often stick to the forest but I sometimes come out to villages like this. To be honest I've only been to a town once and I can't remember the name even. I've never been to a city and honestly if I did go, I think I'd get lost or in trouble because I don't know anything about them. But I know there are like guards and laws you have to follow and honestly it's confusing. So it would be amazing travelling with you for us to help each other out. And you're right, we seem to get on great so having a friend to travel places and try new things with sounds fantastic\" She says brightly before leading Vy\n\nMuch like before, but this time even more carefully, she leads Vy through the tavern. Being s village tavern it isn't huge, but the day has turned to Night and the evening is dimmed, so people are now in full swing of eating and drinking, and most have had more than one drink at this point, so it's loud, people are walking less carefully and there are lots of tablets and chairs. As they move, Thyme is more firm than usual, both her expression and movement is defensive. She gives Vy's hand a small squeeze before moving. \"Don't worry, I won't let anything happen to you\" She says as they make their way through the crowd\n\nThough as the mention of her summer comes up, she smiles. \"I am happy and excited yes, it was by pure chance we met and we've gotten on so well, so I'm looking forward to our adventures\" Her voice slightly raised so she can be heard over the crowd as they move\n\nThey do however find where they are to preform, against one wall and opposite the fire so they can be seen by everyone but not get in the way. There is a patch for them where tables and chairs have been moved, so a section is empty. However, she moves a hand and slowly creates thick green vines in a square shape at the edges of their area. Leading Vy to one edge, she taps Vy's foot against the thick vines, which are raised up lightly, like a bump against the floor\n\n\"Feel these? These are around the edge of the area we have. So if you feel them, you're at the edge and need to go back. I'll move you back right into the center, we have plenty of room but it's just in case\"" }, { "author": "Vynixi Settia", "message": "\"Well I stayed at my orphanage for a long time so I can get the feeling of wanting to stick with something that is familiar. But it's not bad once you start to travel, it's a lot at first but with time you will start to understand the differences in areas. And yes, understanding the laws are the one main thing in a city for sure, don't want to do anything that would get you in trouble but I will help you out the best I can. I'm glad you are wanting to well travel with me as well and to try things together. It's going to be an exciting new chapter maybe for the both of us.\" Vy would smile as she hoped her new friend would feel the same way too.\n\nVy didn't mind being led through the area as it really did sound noisy and crowded which made her a bit nervous with it all. Through she was a bit more relaxed with knowing Thyme wasn't going to let her get lost into the crowd. Vy would also keep hold of her small fox as she got lead through, sure the past people said her fox was an adult but she really wasn't, she was still just a kit. \"Thank you, it really feels comforting knowing someone's watching out for me. It also makes me feel like well Lily could have a less stressful life for her too because she's always watching over me. And well she shouldn't have to.\"\n\nAt them getting to the corner she would feel the vine to know what it was like, this was all things that helped her find edges for her. \"Alright that seems easy enough to know where it is. I'm sure I won't need it too much but it's a good safety for me. I just need to walk the edge to count the steps and than from center to edge. I know my way around than and hardly go past it since I'm used to my well strides.\" Vy would set down her fox before starting to walk the edge and counting the steps till she knew the layout pretty well she thought." }, { "author": "Thyme", "message": "\"Well, if i was on my own it would be for sure very scary and uncomfortable, it takes a lot of effort to even to come to places like this. The only thing that makes me go is that I can protect myself with magic, or turn into an animal and run away, or use my bear friend to help me! But if we are travelling together and look out for each other I'm sure we will be fine. Magic will keep us self safe, we will always have somewhere safe and dry to stay and always food and water thanks to my magic. Then your street smarts and knowledge of how things work will make sure we are always in the right place, so I'm not worried, I'm pretty excited!\" \n\n\"Don't worry' she says softly as they finally make their way through the crowd and she shows Vy the edges of the area they have to dance. \"I'll lead you anywhere you need to go to keep you safe\" She says\n\nAs they are in the area and Vy is touching where to go to get a feel for the space they have, Thyme would say to her \"I will be in the back corner to your right, but I'll make vines in front of me so you don't bump into me, we still have personal space!\" She says with a giggle as she moves to the area she will preform, sitting down on a chair before taking her stringed instrument out. After a few warm up plucks on the strings to check it is in tune, she slowly begins to play, the first tune starting off as soft and light, joyful and gentle to warm the crowd up to the music and playing and to give Vy a feel for the dancing as well" }, { "author": "Vynixi Settia", "message": "\"It is kind of scary when being alone but there is always a lot more you can do when you have a friend with you. That's always what I have well thought but I don't know as I never traveled with a friend.\" She would smile as she squeezed Thyme's hand gently. \"Well you won't have to run away with me around, we can make it wherever we might go. I don't think I have street smarts in big cities but I know some of the stuff needed.\" \n\nVynixi felt relieved with having her leading through the crowd. It really did make her feel more safe and less like someone might think if she tripped and landed by them she'd wanted to be flirting with them. She had no experience in that anyways. \"Thank you Thyme, it's nice having a good friend to help.\"\n\n\"I'm not worried, but that's a good plan to make sure I don't go falling into you. We probably don't need a fail like that with us performing today.\" Vy was getting used to the area as she moved a bit in the center. Listening to the music starting as she'd get ready, her steps would be light as she started to move with the music." }, { "author": "Thyme", "message": "She smiles as her hand is squeezed and does so in return. \"Well, hopefully we won't be doing any running at all. Unless we were in a race or something like that... And you won't need to worry about travelling long distances, I can turn into a horse and carry all our stuff! Though I guess I won't be able to talk much when doing that... Hmm... We will see\" She says with a little smirk. But as she is thanked she does indeed grow more heartfelt and serious, but in a good way. \"You're welcome Vynixi, I'm glad we became good friends, I think we will get on great on our adventures\" \n\nOnce the preformance began, the first song starts off slow. Though the words and tone are pleasent and jovial, and about nature obviously. Loud enough for everyone to hear but not commanding the entire room, at least not yet. The strings being plucked and pulled create clear notes, easy for one to hear and feel, and obviously to dance along to, which Vy begins doing. As the song moves, as does Thyme's magic, weaving it into the music and around her. From her seated position, slow flowers begin to grow around her and even glow softly, which of course elicts gasps and aclaimations from the patrons. Many eyes locked on the dancing woman and the magic. Clearly these two are no common bards coming in" }, { "author": "Vynixi Settia", "message": "Making a new friend really was turning out well, her and Thyme seemed to get along. She hoped it would stay this way and they might keep growing with their journeys they might take. Maybe even get some more to come with their group? It would be fun she thought if they were able to do that one day but only time would tell. For now she was just enjoying having a friend and well someone she felt she could really trust actually.\n\nThough the song started off slow Vynixi would be able to quickly get into the rhythm of the song as she'd start to dance in soft fluid movements. It was fine with her having them start off with a more slow song to build it up for the crowd. Sometimes starting off as loud and quick can make some of a crowd unhappy and not drawn to the performance in a good way. And it seemed to be working with whatever magic Thyme was using was drawing more eyes onto their performance, this made Vy smile as it was fun getting to dance for a crowd that might just need a performance to make the night end on a good note for them. \n\nThough Thyme and Vynixi were completely different for how they perform and look it really felt like they had some time of link through their music and likes that made Vynixi just feel joyous in the moment. Maybe it was only her but she hoped maybe they both felt happy with this new friendship and would keep growing. Vy little fox would join in a bit as it danced around the stage too to have a bit more excitement to the performance." }, { "author": "Thyme", "message": "The idea of forming some sort of travelling band sounds like a great idea. Not only would it add to their friends, but also their money and collective knowledge of where to go. Not to mention their skill and increase their overall preformance. If they could get others to join them, it would surely be a great boon to their travelling group already. However, there is a big problem of actually finding other people willing to do that, it may take some time...\n\nThe song is indeed rather slow paced and probably only meant for a person just to play and sing it and not actually a dancer. This wouldn't be on purpose; it is true Thyme has never played for a dancer before, so the situation is new to her. But at the same time it does give them both a change to warm up to the sound of each others playing, singing and movements, and the crowd a chance to relax and focus on the preformance and warm up to it\n\nOnce the song reaches its end, the crowd is gathered mostly. Especially preforming at this time, when most have had a good few drinks is the best. That way they aren't too drunk, but drunk enough to feel happier and more light heared about everything, so the preformance has it's best effect. The next song is indeed more upbeat. Not only does it have her plucking on the strings of the instrument, but also has her banging the side of it in time with the music, creating a thumping beat to dance along to. It is here her magic comes into affect. As Vy and her fox dance to the music, a wave and a few whispered words from Thyme start the spell, and a slow falling stream of red rose petals begin to fall from the ceiling and all around Vy, creating gasps and cheers from the crowd" }, { "author": "Vynixi Settia", "message": "Vynixi though not used to such a slow paced song was able to still find a way to dance with the rhythm. It's movements sure were not as many but it still went well with the song in her own way. Her years of dancing and finding the beat helped her in times like this because she made up her own vs following someone else's calligraphy for it, this is always something that made her have a bit more fun with it since she could do such a thing.\n\nWhen the first song ended she would give a little bow to the crowd, giving a bit of a charming smile that to her succubus race would help draw in people because of the charming affect it had. As the next song would start Vy would smile more as she would dance a bit more livel,, with it drum from the side of the instrument she would move to a almost new position with the dance. \n\nThis was more enjoyable than she expected and it was fun getting to hear a crowd so happy. She could only image what the crowd might be seeing with the two performing but it seemed to make them cheer them on more. Which Vy didn't mind, she didn't know how many songs Thyme would play but she would just plan on keeping up till they would finish." }, { "author": "Thyme", "message": "Indeed the first song would go down well due to her singing and the song, but not so well with the dancing; hence why she picked up the pace with the second. But of course she pauses in between so they can see to the crowd, with Vy giving a bow and Thyme giving a friendly wave and a big smile before moving to the second song. Which is far more upbeat, the strings mixing with the thumping beat almost gives a primal feel to the music along with the elegence of the strings. That mixes seemingly perfect with the dancing and falling rose petals \n\nThe crowd seem totally taken by Vy. Hardly paying attention to Thyme who is in the back and playing; their eyes are on the falling red petals which Vy dances to and all around. Thyme herself finds herself anamoured. How could she not? Her first time seeing one of Vy's race, a succubus, knows for their beauity. Dancing and weaving against falling rose petals along with smooth music. Thyme finds herself looking more at Vy and less time at the crowd.\n\nBut her music does not stop, in face it gets faster, louder, its as if the dancing has infected her and spurs herself on to play even more music at a louder tone. It isn't agressive or too loud, in fact it seems rather fitting to play in a tavern such as this, and it's obvious the crowd are very into it" }, { "author": "Vynixi Settia", "message": "Though the first one sure wasn't easy to dance to she managed to. With the second ones pace being more upbeat she was having more fun dancing with it, the rhythm was actually exciting with the drumming and strings, her own bells on her outfit making a new tempo to it. This was all almost hypnotic with her dancing.\n\nVy didn't know how the crowd was completely reacting but she was more than happy to keep dancing for them. Giving some twirls and more complicated moves with it. Looking back towards the area of Thyme she would smile as she was enjoying the music, it was really beautiful hearing to her. Maybe she would have to ask to learn to play a simple one, though that would not be an easy task.\n\nAs the music got faster Vynixi couldn't help but smile more as she loved more fast music at times. It gave a more life to dancing than a slow one and it did make the crowds in a tavern more lively. Maybe they would get a good tip from this as she would keep on dancing to the new tempo." }, { "author": "Thyme", "message": "With the three blends of music, the strings of the instrument giving the main crux of the music, the beating like a drum giving the pace and beat, and the bells adding like a spice, an extra to the mix. Added with the dancing succubus, the falling rose petals from magic and the sheer strangeness of their species. A beautiful but strange succubus with a tail dancing, and a half-dryad with the beauty of the elves mixed with the strange, wood like and nature apperence of the Dryads. It's certainly a sight to behold. One that has captured every patron of the bar \n\nAs Vy smiles at Tyme, it is returned with her own large smile, unaware if Vy is unable to see at this moment, or using her fox friend for the task. Either way, her own smile couldn't be wider as she watches Vy dance. Though never missing a beat on the music \n\nIt seems clear that Vy is liking the new pace of the music, so Thyme keeps it up. Not going faster or slower, but keeping this fast, excited pace right where it is and not changing a thing about it. Letting the crowd sink into the rythem and beat. Letting them get used to and captivated by the display of them both until the song will come to and end and the preformance will conclude, which surely would lead to many metal shard from their act" }, { "author": "Vynixi Settia", "message": "Vynixi was enjoying the mix of music they were having it gave off so much fun energy she thought as she would dance along to it. Though it wouldn't seem like anything more than dancing she would be feeding off the good energy around them. A succubus trait she couldn't control but it helped her feel better. Gave her more energy to dance along with the music.\n\nVy was more than happy to be dancing along to Thyme's music and would no doubt be sharing how she loved the music later on as she went. Though talking now would be rude even if to complement Thyme for her skills in music. They did make a good team when it came to this.\n\nWith the faster pace was easier to come up with some more complexe moves that helped to wow the crowds. She knew that this was going to help them win the crowd over more. Not knowing when they would stop she would just keep up with it. This hopefully would make a lot of people like them in the end and give them a nice extra cash for them to use later." }, { "author": "Thyme", "message": "The music in the room is so much more and upbeat. Where bard or other music person would make a cheerful and alive tune, Thyme's music indeed does come alive. The face paced music is met with the magic, the growth of flowers all around her of every shade and hue with bright green stalks and the smells of summer, like a sunlit medeow and freshly cut grass would be the scent that fills the space around them creating such a scene for the crowd when its mixed with the dancing of the succubus and the falling roses \n\nThyme herself seems to be feeding off the energy, drawing from it to enhance her mood and energy. Of course she is not actually doing it, but one could imagine her to be more alive and her emotions uplifted due to this. Of course, Vy is actually doing this... Taking the positive energy and attention and drawing it to herself to expand her life, gaining months and years of life from the energy. Of course, it was a trait of her species she could not control. Besdies, its not as if Thyme knows she can do this... Yet \n\nBut of course, the music must stop at one point. This pace can only sustain itself for so long and attention is a fleeting mistriss. The song comes to an end, as does their preformance. Not suddenly; the music slows and the singing dims, heralding the end of the preformance. To which the crowd are both happy and sad. It means they can return to their drinks and conversations, but they were surely into the music and the two preformers who have left a lasting impression. As it ends, many of them come forth to tip money to them" }, { "author": "Vynixi Settia", "message": "The lively music, the sounds of the crowd, the smells of summer. All of this was addictive for Vy, it gave off so much fun and positive energy that it made it feel as if every cell in her body was dancing as well. None of this would have been possible without Thyme, she felt very lucky for once. She'd found someone who didn't look down on her and actually wanted some of the same things, a rare diamond in the rough she thought. \n\nWith the music finally ending Vy would end with a low bow to the crowd before looking back at Thyme and smiling. She was tired but also she felt alive, she didn't really know how many songs they went through only that she'd enjoyed every one of them and let the music carry her away into its melody. Heading to the back of the stage so she could take a bit of a breather, she didn't want to just sit on the floor right on the stage. It was easier to lean back on the wall and catch her breath there.\n\nHearing the tips she'd laugh a bit, they seemed to have won the crowd over in this small town. It felt better not having to run from a town, this day seemed to have been a good one, she made a friend, partner in music, and a travel guide well travel guide as making sure she doesn't fall over and stuff. But in all it's been a fun day, she would be excited for when she could actually see Thyme but it would have ro wait for the time being." }, { "author": "Thyme", "message": "Once the music has ended, she rises from where she is sitting. The very instument she is holding disolves into white and red rose petals, leaving her arms and hands free as she too gives a bow to the crowd. Soon her magic would slowly stop. The petals would stop falling and those which have had would dissapear into mist, the plants and flowers around her would also fade. Her eyes scan the crwod, making sure to give eye contact and a smile to each so no one would feel left out of such a thing, it is unlikely they will get such a preformance again, at least for a longtime \n\nThough her eyes get distracted for a moment as Vy heads off to catch her breath. It confirmes that she was indeed tired from the dancing, which is of no surprise given how fast the music was going and how exotic she was dancing. So Thyme is ensured with the crowd, wishing to take their attention so that Vy could take all the time she needs to rest. So when some of the crowd comes up to donate, Thye thanks them gracefully and begins handing out flowers. Asking each person what their favourite flower is, creating it and giving it out to the ones who gave money until the crowd has returned to their meals and drinks \n\nIt is only then that Thyme comes to Vy to check she is okay. Now they are not being looked at and have time to themselves. Thyme places a gentle hand on her shoulder to let Vy know she is there, and from which direction. Though Vy can likely work that out from the direction of her voice. \"Are you okay? Do you need something to drink or eat? I can lead you to our table if you need help\" She asks, her voice laced with concern" }, { "author": "Vynixi Settia", "message": "Vy was more than happy to let Thyme take over and handle the crowd as she rested in the back. She couldn't remember the last time she had that much fun dancing to fast music. Sure she'd danced to orher things but this... It had been a long time since letting lose and just enjoying the way the music flowed in her bones. \n\nVy would push her hair back as she laughed a bit under her breath, maybe she could really get used to something like this, the energy and joy of it... Was all something she'd wanted but had lost any hope with getting after what had happened to her those few years ago. She was sure she would be laughing more and feel alive with a friend like Thyme. \n\nAt hearing and feeling Thyme now close she couldn't help but smile, this was all thanks to her new friend. \"I'm okay, don't worry just a bit well tired, but it's a good tired. One that's making me feel full with the night, like I finally did something worth the day. Though something to drink would probably be good, can always use something after dancing like that.\" Vy would smile at Thymr as she would pat her friends hand softly." }, { "author": "Thyme", "message": "It takes a long while until the crowd are sated, many complimenting the dancing, the music, the magics or a combination of all three. They have gained a wealth of money. Surely not a fortune, but enough indeed to see them well the next few days, even a couple of weeks if they are careful. But Vy will have to sort that all out, lest Thyme be confused. Either way, as Thyme is making flowers and speaking to them all, it takes... Time, to extract herself from the crowd \n\nWhile she cannot draw energy from others around her, it's no wonder that her body is buzzing with energy and joy. Summer in full bloom. She has much loved doing this herself but on doing it with someone and preforming as they did tonight as set her emotions alight, while they have already agreed to keep travelling together; this has solidified in her mind to do this more and continue with their plans \n\n\"Good, I am glad you are well, and don't worry, we will rest soon. I have magic enough to make our home\" She says with a happy tone, and the hand on her shoulder would move after Vy pats it softly, but it moves To Vy's hand so she can lead them back to their table. \"Stay here, I will be a moment\" She advises. When she returns not a moment after, she has two mugs and a tall pitcher. Casting the spell \"Create food or water\", she fills the pitcher with water and pours out a glass. Of course she could have asked for some, but who knows how clean the water would be? \n\n\"Okay, to your left hand is a mug of mead, and to your right is a mug of water. Sit and rest for a moment, you were completely amazing\"" }, { "author": "Vynixi Settia", "message": "Vynixi hummed a bit if her respond on doing well. She didn't know when the last time she'd been that tired but it was nice. She was sure she'd sleep well even if sleeping on damp grass though that wouldn't be the case for them. They actually would have a place that's dry and warm. A new luxury from having such a friend with the magic she had, but that wasn't the reason she wanted to be friends it would be a selfish one if that's all she thought about. No she just really needed a good friend and maybe more would come with time, she could only hope now for that.\n\n\"You handed out flowers again. You seem to like to do that for the people, it's very sweet of you to want to do that for them. I'm sure it makes them all feel special for the time being. And I'm not worried, this is hardly anything for having to wait to rest.\" Vy would smile as she would follow Thyme back to their table before sitting down. Making sure to get her little fox off the ground again just to he safe. \n\nWaiting for Thyme to return was easy as she just listened to the towns people speaking, it was nice getting to hear so many happy voices in one area. Hopefully this could continue for them. With Thyme returning she would smile again in thanks, it was nice having someone watching out for her once again like this. It just helped her remember not everyone was so bad. \"So were you, your voice and playing was amazing. I can dance sure but to be able to do all that you did was well breathtaking in itself. You really are very talented Thyme, I'm glad I have been able to meet such an amazing person on the road today.\" Vy really meant it as she would take the water to drink, it was probably best to have the water first for the moment and the rest they could have later." }, { "author": "Thyme", "message": "For herself she was pretty tired from all the excitment and the preformance itself. Not to mention the magical cost of casting the spells and sustaining the magic. Though these were minor spells, doing so many in a short time takes its toll. Though she is very sure to keep her energy in severe for her large spell later on so they have somewhere to sleep; a large spell like that would surely require a lot of magical energy. Luckly, being part fae and a druid means she has a wealth of such magic. Still, it's always better to rest after such things. Though its obvious Vy would be more spent after dancing so much, it being far more physically taxing than Thyme's own efforts \n\n\"Thank you\" She says with a smile as she is called sweet. \"It's a simple magic to summon flowers, and who doesn't like flowers right? They make everything better, and if I can make people even a little happier then there is no reason why I shouldn't. I never asked what was your favourite flower, I should be sure to make sure you always have at least one of them\" She says as they sit on the sofa. The preformance may have tired them somewhat, but there is no mistake it has lifted their collective spirits, both having a joyful task that not only they liked, but brought in money. On top of that, they have found great friends in each other, made plans to travel and even make a bardic group. Though who knows what time will bring. More than friendship? It is certainly possible with how well they are getting on and how they seem to instinctivly take care of each other \n\n\"You flatter me too much\" She says after taking a long drink of water, much needed after singing and using her voice for the night. After a good amount of water, she seems much refreshed, just as a plant would be after rain. Though her drinking water is not the only thing causing her pause. Being called amazing by Vy is not something she takes lightly, and already a blossom of colour marks her cheeks. Though she responds well with\n\nA large smile. \"But thank you, but honestly it was our combination. My singing and music might be nice, but next to your amazing dancing and how well you seem to do it... Despite your restriction you move like no other, not one mistake... It is amazing to watch honestly, I think we are matched very well. With us preforming like this we will be the most famous travelling bards in all the kingdoms!\" She declares happily. Her declaration must have been heard by those around her, for some patrons cheer at this, lifting their mugs and giving another round of applause for the two travellers" }, { "author": "Vynixi Settia", "message": "Vynixi smiled as she agreed most did like flowers, least that is something she thought was true as well. \"It can't be that simple Thyme, I can't do such a spell so it still is complex in its own way. But you are right that flowers do usually make everything better. It's a good way of thinking to try and make others happier if you can with such a thing like making a flower... Oh uh my favorite flower? To be honest I don't have a favorite one, there was never a lot of flowers around but wild ones in the place I grew up at.\"\n\nWith all the things that had happened she really hadn't thought much about it, her home or anything about her past in a while. The bees was something she did like about it than but it was some time since she'd even been around the bees.\n\nShe hope that this friendship would keep lasting though as she wanted to keep someone close, maybe they would keep growing close even? She didn't want to push anything though with such a new relationship with someone. Though it was nice with getting to learn and be close with another.\n\n\"Don't think I don't mean it, I mean ever word of it because you are amazing. Your singing and playing just makes it peaceful to listen to you. But I also really like talking to you as well. Your a great conversationalist and well just someone I want to get to know more and explore the world with.\" \n\nVy was happy that Thyme seemed happy with their performance as well, it made her want to almost impress Thyme more but she didn't want to push anything too fast. \"Well I think it would definitely happen if we keep on doing as well as we are, it makes me happy to know you are wanted to continue withe and travel to explore the rest of the world.\"" }, { "author": "Thyme", "message": "\"Well, just because you can't do something doesn't mean its not simple... Its just that you haven't leared yet! Like... You didn't know how to walk at somepoint, and now you do, and walking is simple! I mean... Maybe not as simple if you can't see so erm... Well...\" She says as she clears her throat, realising what a mistake she has made. \"Well, you know what I mean anyway!\" She says in an attempt to free herself from the trap she has placed herself in. \"And as for your favourite, we will find it together. I can make different ones each day, and by their smell you can tell me which one you like the most!\" She says, rather proud of her plan \n\nDespite her many faux pas, it is clear how protective Thyme is of Vy, and how well they get on and preform together. It would be no surprise at all for over time if their friendship grew to be something more. Especially if there was a romantic ball coming up...\n\n\"A conversationalist? Well of course I am! I talk to people, animals and plants! You can just talk to other people, so I've done a lot more talking than you\" She says with a playful laugh, though she does take the compliment in stride. \"Though I am glad you hold me in such high esteem, I couldn't think of anyone better to explore the world and travel and get to know more than you. I think we are really lucky to have found each other\" \n\n\"But first we need to count out how many shards we gained tonight, or should we do that tomorrow. I'm unsure how tired you get after these things, do you want to stay here longer? Or should I make our magic home outside of town? Its quite big so we'd need to walk to a flat area. I'm not sure what would happen if I cast the spell when inside a building... And I don't really want to find out... I don't think it would end well\"" }, { "author": "Vynixi Settia", "message": "Vy couldn't help but laugh a bit at how Thyme really thought at times. There was no bad feeling with what she was trying to come across with. It just made her laugh a bit in a good way* \"Don't worry I understand what you are meaning, it's still something you are no doubt better at than me. I'm sure we can find my favorite like you think, it will no doubt take some time to do though I'm sure, but it will be nice to know what type I do like.\" \n\nShe would smile as she did think Thyme was a much better conversationalist than herself. But that was one thing she was liking more about her, she always just had a positive and upbeat thought on life which was kind of contagious. \"I suppose you have a bit more experience with that than me, but it's a good thing. Your kind of contagious with your happiness it's making this whole trip idea seem way more exciting than originally planned.\"\n\nWith the coming travels it was sure thing they would grow closer and who knows it might just turn into something more with the upcoming ball. Only time would tell but it all just felt exciting for Vy. Maybe they could also get a few more people to join them as well.\n\nShe would wonder a bit of how many shards they had but really it wasn't needed to know at the moment. \"I think I'm fine with us going to rest, we can see how much we made tomorrow and go from there. And yes, I agree we should probably not try such a spell on this building or any building for that matter. Probably don't need to pay for someone's building if it gets destroyed.\" Vynixi chuckled a bit as she could kind of imagine what it might have looked like." }, { "author": "Thyme", "message": "Of course Thyme meant nothing bad with her first comment, even if making a faux pass she was guinine in seeking her words, which is obvious, she has not said a bad thing all night. On top of that- she always seems happy. Even now, when tired and at the end of the night she has this endless pool of optamism and joy that she is all too happy to share with Vy. Of course this is her personality, but could it also be an effort to impress Vy? After all- she now knows that Vy feeds off energy, could Thyme be making sure to give her some? Who knows...\n\n\"Well, I do aim to please! I am glad you are exctied, we will need it going forward, with both of us happy and excited we will have a much better shot of exploring and going to new places. Though despite my extra experience, I don't know how much it will help us. Plants ad animals aren't exactly the same level of conversationalist as people are, so I might need your help if we are to gain more people\" \n\n\"Then it is a plan\" She says as she slowly gets up from the table. \"I have enough energy to preform the spell needed, but would need to rest afterwards for sure. So let us find a nice empty spot for me to cast it, then we can have a good rest tonight and plan her next adventure!\" She says as she reaches over to squeeze Vy's shoulder gently, her usual gesture of both warmth and affection, but to also let Vy know where she is and help Vy move around in the word. \"Now it will be a tower I make. The more energy I put into the spell, the more rooms I can make, but if we are just using it to sleep tonight then it won't take much time at all\"" }, { "author": "Vynixi Settia", "message": "\"I know you are wanting to aim to please but don't think you have to do that always around me okay? We all have days we aren't perfectly happy all the time and that's okay if you aren't. I won't judge you if you have a day like that and just need to let out some otheg type of emotions.\" Vy didn't want her new friend to think that's all that was wanted from her as she wanted to also have someone just to be around.\n\n\"If it's going to be too much for you we can rent a room, it's not that big of a deal to do that. I don't want you to push yourself too hard just to impress me. I done more than my share of just sleeping outside so any bed is fine with me.\" Vy was a bit concerned when Thyme said she needed to rest after as it seemed like she'd used up a lot already just for the night.\n\nShe would smile at liking thr idea of planning the new adventure but still was worried for Thyme \"If you must do the spell just enough for a small bedroom is enough, we don't need anything that fancy just to sleep in especially since I'm not really seeing it either. A small tent size is really all one person needs but for two we probably need a bit bigger but not by much.\"" }, { "author": "Thyme", "message": "She smiles soflty but very happily at this, squeezing Vy's shoulder gently. \"Thank you Vy...\" She says, using a nickname for the first time. \"I think I will have a lot more good days with you around, but I appriciate that I can be myself around you. And you can to me as well, you don't need to try and impress me or be happy all the time. It seems we can both be honest and lean on each other\" She says in a soft, but very honest voice \n\nThough at the suggestion of renting a room, Thyme huffs. \"And not impress you with my awesome magic? I don't think so!\" She says with a giggle before growing more serious. \"And don't worry, I have the energy from it. The room will be clean and magical with nothing out of place. So for sure better than a rented room here and it saves us shards too. So don't worry at all\" And indeed with this, the hand moves from Vy's shoulder to her hand, holding her hand gently so she can lead her out of the tavern, making sure Vy doesn't bump into anything \n\nSince the village is so small- it's not too far to walk for the space needed. Though the night air is cool and the wind carries a breeze. Thyme is lucky she can see in the dark- for the further out of the tavern they go, the darker it gets. Though Thyme isn't going too far, as it can be dangerous in the wilds. Once she has the space for the spell, she cast's \"Kellenir's Tower\" At low level, so only two spells are made. She can of course create more, but none are really needed and she wants to save energy. The two rooms are as follows \n- A bedroom with a bed, chairs, chest and a magical fireplace \n-A washroom with toilets, wash tubs, a magical braiser and sauna benches\n\nWith that, Thyme moves to lead Vy inside carefully. Since the spell is instant, they don't need to wait long at all. All Vy hear's is the spell being cast and soon enough she enters into a warm, comfy place" }, { "author": "Vynixi Settia", "message": "Vynixi couldn't help but chuckle at the nickname she didn't get one very often and she actually kind of liked Vy, it sounded kind of something a friend might call out while her full name sounded almost like a dancers name. Which maybe it was, she didn't ever know why her mother even named her. \"I hope we both will have good days, we deserve to have some good in our lives no? Also if I'm getting a nickname you should too, though I don't know any good nicknames... And you don't need to worry about me, I'm not too down much but I'm very bad at hiding my emotions. Maybe it's because I can't see others expressions? Who knows why.\"\n\n\"Okay okay, I won't force you not to make something impressive, I'm sure it will be one anyway. You already can do quite a lot of impressive magic so not like you have to impress me more though.\" Vy was happy to hold Thyme's hand and head off to find a new spot for them to go to making this sleeping area. It was also just a nice night being on a stroll really.\n\nTo say the least she was surprised at how it was quickly done and soon enough was entering this house that was warm. How it was warm already is what really surprised her more than anything. Must be part of the magic that makes it so warm \"That went a lot faster than I thought it would be for well coming together. I didn't think a spell could form that quick especially for making a home\"" }, { "author": "Thyme", "message": "\"Of course we will have good days! We are together and I really like you!\" She says happily as they walk to the outskirts of the village. But then she pauses after saying that. Was that too much? Nooo it was fine. Was it? As bad as it sounds, its a good thing can't see Thyme and her look of shock at what she said, but it is gone in a moment as she focuses on the magic. \"Well, if you like Vy I should probably keep using it, plus its easier to say- and it can be like our secret code. But one for me... Hmm... I don't know actually. Cause Thyme is the herb but its also the passage of... Time.\" She says with a snort and a small laugh. \"So I don't know how you would shorten that. You can't even call me T, cause that's like the drink tea! Yeah... You're on your own in that one in figuring out my nickname!\" \n\nIndeed the spell was quick. After some hand waving and words the home appeared and they soon go inside. It wasn't cast at a very high level; just two rooms. She could have made a lot, lot more. A living room, observatory, kitchen, study and so on... But they don't need all that right now, and that would be too much energy to spend after all the magic she cast tonight as well. \n\nBut the place is very good. The magical fire is very warm, filling up the who bedroom, the fire being smokeless since it was magical. \"Alright, I can make more rooms if you want, another bedroom, a living room and stuff like that if you want? Right now I've made one bedroom and one bathroom cause I figured that's the essentials and that saved magical energy, but if you want anything more then I can make it!\"" }, { "author": "Vynixi Settia", "message": "\"I really like you as well, you're the first not to well take my faults as the only thing I am. You been willing to see well me, the real me. And so I uh really like being with you.\" Vy would be a bit shocked with her own thoughts on that but let it be for the moment as she just cleared her throat \"And it sounds like a nice secret for the name Vy and I will think of something for you I'm sure, just might take me some time to do is all.\" She would smile as she would start trying to think of something, maybe it would be nothing with her name now but something just unique?\n\nShe would be more than happy with just the little house they had, a warm bath actually sounded really nice. It been some time since she'd gotten cleaned up anyways so something like that was actually nice. \"No a bedroom and bathroom is all we need I'm not picky and well I'm more than ready to have a bath. I don't exactly remember the last time I had a warm one or having a warm bed that I actually felt safe in.\"\n\nVy would stop as she did think about it, it sounded kind of sad but it's not how she meant it to sound. She'd just chuckle as she rubbed the back of her neck \"Uh actually ignore what I was saying before that was uh... Not the best sounding\"" }, { "author": "Thyme", "message": "\"I'll always take you as you are. You're beautiful and you're fun and you're just amazing, not to mention friendly!\" She says brightly, but then her smile grows as her nickname is approved. \"Good! I'm glad we've came up with a super sevret name for you\" She says brightly, but then smirks and shakes her head as it's mentioned that it will take time for Vy to come up for with one for Thme. \"Hmm, alright, I will give you some time to find a super secret name for me, don't worry\" \n\nThe next comment from Vy makes Thyme tilt her head in surprise, even more so as Vy asks it be ignored. But much in the fashion of Thyme, she isn't one to really ignore anything, and instead gives Vy's hand a light but reasurring squeeze. \"Don't worry. You are perfectly safe here. No one can enter the magical tower because it's magical, and I've got my bear outside as well, we will be completely fine. Now let's get you that bath you wanted\" She says as she leads Vy from the bedroom to the bathroom \n\nThe bathroom is equally big, perhaps even more so. As the spell details, with toilets, large baths and a sauna. A magical braasier is lit and giving off heat as well as incense. Leading Vy forward, Thyme moves to one of the large baths and turns on the taps so water begins to pour out and fill the tub. \"How warm do you want it? And do you want it filled with soap and perfume?\"" }, { "author": "Vynixi Settia", "message": "\"I'm glad your willing to since so many just... Don't seem to want to see how someone is before painting them in one light or the other. Maybe it's just my bad luck that it happened like that... I don't really know but I'm glad to get someone as caring as you are on my side and well getting to know. It makes me happy and feel safe for the first time in a long time even if I have a lot of well bad past with me.\" Vy couldn't help but smile as well, it was hard not to feel happy with someone who just seemed happy a lot. \"Don't worry I will come up with something just will take a bit.\"\n\n\"It's... Not about being safe exactly... It's more so that I just... I'm I guess embarrassed that I... Haven't had one in a long time and that I'm sure having one now the water will get pretty dirty because of that... Not to mention well... The whole water thing... Most places I had one they have too deep of water for well my comfort without... Getting freaked out, which I know sounds beyond stupid because it's a bath and not a river or lake...\" Vy would look away as she rubbed the arm Thyme was holding hands with feeling embarrassed that she even had a fear of small water like that.\n\nVy wouldn't show it but she was nervous, water still scared her in such a big way because of the accident. She knew she shouldn't but some traumas were harder to deal with than others. \"Uh... I kind of like it on the warmer side since it well... Isn't like a river would be than. And just soap is okay, I don't think perfume is needed since we will still be traveling eventually. We can more do something like that if needed for a show or uh an outing in a city?\"" }, { "author": "Thyme", "message": "\"Maybe it has been bad luck... But we will have good luck now and we will get rick too! Cause we will preform and travel and not even need to buy accomadation and stuff, so I think our luck is going to change for the better. Especially since we look out for each other. I'm really excited about going to a bigger town or a city with you, cause then we can explore new things and have fun doing it!\" \n\nThyme frowns a little at this, tilting her head to the side at the mention of how long it has been since Vy has had a wash and how dirty it will make the water. But she does seem more concerned about the fear or water. \"Well, first off- that's kinda what the water is meant to do; get dirty. So it's nothing to worry about, and since we will be using this place from now of- it will be a regular thing. So don't feel embarrassed at all, its what its made for!\" \n\nShe turns the hot tap a little more hot so the water will be a lot warmer, but not to the point of too hot. \"The water is just in the tub to your right, you can put your hand in to feel it. She takes a small breath before asking. \"I can see your worried. Do you want me to stay with you and help you get in and out? I also know the \"Create and Destroy Water\" Spell, so if it gets too much I can instantly take the water away. Or I could stand outside and you can call for me if you need help? It's completely fine whatever you choose; I just want you safe and happy.\" She says in her soft, but at the same time, firm voice. The one she uses when she is leading Vy through crowds or telling where things for Vy due to her lack of sight" }, { "author": "Vynixi Settia", "message": "\"Your right, it's going to get better now with the both of us. I just a bit I guess nervous with it all yet, but yes it will be. We will go to so many new places and get to try all types of foods and other new things and just have fun while we do it. Even though I don't quite know yet what all those things might even be.\"\n\n\"I know it's what water is meant for but it stills kind of... Well embarrassing when I try and think of how long it's been. My skins dark sure but I'm sure there is also a lot of dust on it, my clothes sure have a lot on them at least. But thank you, for being encouraging, and yeah that will help getting one more regular. You make everything seem so simple at times, it's quite amazing actually.\"\n\nVy would start to feel a bit better as she would listen to Thyme, her new friend really was caring and willing to help her through the struggles she might have. She'd test the water temperature as it did feel nice, though she would be a bit embarrassed with actually wanting Thyme to stay. \"Uh... I can't lie... I rather you stay but you don't have to, I can take one alone... I don't think I should have a problem with the water as much. I just... Sometimes it's kind of... Triggering for me even though I know it's safe\" Vy really had never told anyone else before how she was with water, why she trusted Thyme so easily was hard to understand herself. Usually she just got through it alone even if it causes some panic" }, { "author": "Thyme", "message": "\"Ohh I didn't even think about all the new foods, and the different drinks and the spices and stuff... I wonder where the cloest city from here is... We should probably find that out tomorrow and head there!\" She says, her voice more excited and happy at this. Though she does snort lightly and roll her eyes. \"Well of course your skin will have dust on it, everyone's does, that's what dust is, dead skin! But thank you for saying I make things simple, I think that is a compliment...\" She says with a soft giggle \n\nThough of course when they get onto the topic, Thyme's voice returns to her serious, protective and caring one. \"If you prefer me to stay then I will. We can go through this together, and maybe if we do this every day with the regular baths, we can build up a tolerance for you and to make it so you are less afraid of the water. But of course I'll stay and make sure you are safe and comfortable, you don't need to worry\" She says with a calm and collected voice, adding a fairly large amount of soap into the water. \"Do you need help getting in and out? Or will I just watch to make sure you're okay? I don't want to cross any lines...\"" }, { "author": "Vynixi Settia", "message": "Vynixi would giggle as she was excited to show all of that to Thyme, they all will be fun to see and explore \"There really is a lot that we are going to see and find, some might not be as good but it is all will be so fun to explore and figure out what we like.\" It really was a lot of fun just thinking about the idea, hopefully it would stay fun as well.\n\n\"Well yes, that is kind of true bit it still is kind of strange to think about. I mean not something that's just talked about regularly but am meaning it as a compliment. You make this seem simple and it's comforting to well hear someone make it that way.\" Vy would smile as she tried to say reassure Thyme that she was meaning it\n\n\"I do... It just makes me feel well less nervous being with someone when having to deal with water. And well you might be right, doing it regularly might help me get over some of that fear of water. It's quite... Strange to have a fear of something so basic but I do\" Vy would sigh as she would rub her neck \"I'm okay, I don't need help getting in and out, least I shouldn't? But I suppose will find out when it comes to getting out if it's slick or not. And you won't be crossing any lines with me okay? I done a lot and well... I just feel completely comfortable around you... Uh also could you look at something on my back shoulder? I have a tattoo there but it doesn't feel very comfortable, in fact it hurts and I'm sure there is something draining from it.\"" }, { "author": "Thyme", "message": "\"Well I do like fish... But I've heard some foods are spicy? I've not really had that... So we should try that! I mean, I know what spices are but we don't have many of them in the forest, just like herbs and stuff so... That will be fun!\" \n\n\"Oh, well thank you for the compliment! And I'm not sure if I* Have dust to be honest. Cause my skin is like a blend of elf skin and wood, so maybe sawdust? Ew that would be weird... But I get dirty like everyone else so it's okay! I'll need one after you so it can become our nightly routine and we can get used to it and we will overcome your fear of water together!\" \n\nThyme nods slowly in understanding, before being verbal with her thoughts since Vy wouldn't be able to see the non-verbal communication. \"Okay, thank you. Obviously since we are not like... Together together, you'll have boundries on things and places and erm... Erm...\" She says, before coughing lightly. Was it always this hot in here? \"Well, I just mean you can always tell me if something is too much or not to do this or avoid things.\" She says, finally finding the right words \n\nThough as Vy mentions about this tattoo, Thyme tilts her head to the side \"Of course, let me see\" She says as she moves around to Vy's back, giving her shoulder a gentle squeeze, doing that whenever she wants to let Vy know where she is, it's sort of become a habit at this point. She isn't exactly sure what Vy means by a draining tattoo, but she looks anyway, wondering what she will find..." }, { "author": "Vynixi Settia", "message": "\"Well I would be happy to try spicy food with you. I know there is definitely a lot of different levels so we can start out mild and go to the more spicy if needed.\" Vy would nod as she can understand the lack of such things in the forest, it would be a surprise if you did find one's in the forest.* \"That would be a bit surprise for sure if we did find spicy ingredients in the forest.\"\n\nVy couldn't help but giggle at the thought of sawdust instead of dust for her but Vy also didn't find her skin to be anything strange really \"Well I'm sure its just dust as well but that would be interesting if it was something different, but no need to worry about that. And that's fine as well, I will make sure not to take too long than so you can have your own.\"\n\nVy would tilt her head as she listened to Thyme stumble over her words a bit. \"Together together?...Oh you mean like a couple?\" Vy couldn't help but blush a bit at even thinking about something like that \"Oh you are okay, I really... Uh know what I'm doing with that as I really lost my lines during the work I did for a while. But don't worry I will tell you if there is anything okay? You don't need to worry about me not saying.\"\n\nVy would nod as she let the shoulder of her top down to show the tattoo, there was a rose tattoo there but it didn't look so good. It was not good as they area was red and puffy, there seemed to be some puss leaking from it. It wasn't done very well and it seemed to be trying to cover something else but it was not done by anyone that actually was good at doing any tattoos it seemed." }, { "author": "Thyme", "message": "\"Oh it isn't just spicy but a range of spicy huh? Well that complicates things, but at the same time makes things more exciting since we get to try a range. I wonder what we like like, cause maybe you can handle more spicier stuff than me or the other way around! It certainly won't be stew from a small tavern once we are in the city. We can get spicy food!\" She says with a laugh \n\n\"Well, I have blood but my veins are green and not blue, because they are like plants, and I'm pretty sure I have sap as well... But its mostly blood, I think I'm mostly the same as everyone else but kist a little different. Hopefully we don't need to find out! Unless you were thinking I could be used in a lumber mill... So don't get any ideas!\" She says with another laufg\n\n\"Well... I meant a couple yeah. Cause you know... That's the sort of thing they do, so I've heard. But we are doing it to keep you safe, so it's okay!\" She says brightly, but she seems now more focused on this wound that seems to be on Vy's back. Taking no notice of the bare skin at all, she seems pretty concerned at the bad tattoo that is obviously affected. \"It looks to be infected... And badly too. I can heal this up in a moment however, though I need to touch it, is that okay?\"" }, { "author": "Vynixi Settia", "message": "\"Well there are different plants and spices that make things more or less spicy in foods. I would make one myself for you but I'm afraid I'm a pretty bad cook and so it's best to just wait to the city to try. And yeah we will see how each of us like the different types. Though I will say that I do like my honey more than spice usually. But that also has a pretty nice mix to it if you do both.\" She would smile at Thyme being so excited for trying spicy foods, hopefully they will find some good places for it along the way.\n\n\"Don't worry I would never use you for anything like that. That would be just plain rude to do that to anyone and I rather just stick with what we have.\" Vy would chuckle a bit as well as it was kind of funny to think about\n\n\"Well your guess would be as good as mine on any of that. I have yet to do anything couple related so that honestly would be well a new experience for me.\" Vy would shrug as she would run her hand through the bath water slowly, it smelled nice really \"I kind of expected it to be just because of well how it was feeling.\" Something she hadn't really wanted but guessed would happen at a shady place \"That's fine, I'm not that sensitive to someone touching me, you don't have to worry about that Thyme\"" }, { "author": "Thyme", "message": "\"Well, you will need to learn to cook, if I can make food out of thin air it's only fair you make an effort to cook too!\" She says with a laugh, clearly joking as she would never expect Vy to do such a thing, but she does like the jest they hace going on. \"Ahh so you have a sweet tooth? I suppose that is only fair, I do like sweet things. But if I've never had spicy stuff how would I know which I would prefer? Maybe we've just not found the right spicy stuff for you too!\" \n\n\"Well that makes two of us, but I don't that is an experience we are going to have tonight, since we're not a couple and I'm here to make sure you're safe and to help you. Not for... Other reasons. Not that you're not attractive, it's just well. You're a girl too and erm... Well, we have plans for the future\" She says \"Not that those plans involve that! Just erm... Well...\" She says, completely becomming a flustered dolt. \n\nIt's a good thing that she has this wound to take care of. Not that it's good Vy has it, but it gives Thyme an excuse to stop talking and making a mess of things. Indeed she places a hand on the infected tattoo, obviously the spells she is about to cast requires touch. Though with her other hand she does make movements of the spell, and her words also are in a different language as she casts the spell. If fact, she casts too. She isn't an expert in this field, especially with infections, so she isn't sure what to do. \n\nFirst she casts \"Cure wounds\" A spell that will heal most minor injuries, this would likely heal the skin and close any open wound and sore that Vy has, dealing with the problem. Though Thyme wants to be on the safe side. So after this, she directly casts \"Cure poison and disease\", which would likely take away the infection as well. If Vy felt any drunkeness or affect from the alcohol they drank earlier- this would also be cured too as alcohol is a poison. Though they didn't drink much so she may not feel this at all" }, { "author": "Vynixi Settia", "message": "\"I can cook just not well. You will have lots of burnt things if you let me cook. It's better to use the money for food than ingredients when it comes to my cooking. Yes, I do have a bit of one. I had one for fresh honey comb since it's what sweets we got at the orphanage I was raised at. They are good for honey there at least just not much else.\"\n\nVy couldn't help but giggle at how yet again Thyme would stumble when it came to talking about a relationship \"Thyme, you don't need to worry so much about possibly saying anything wrong with me okay? And there isn't anything wrong with liking another girl, and there is nothing wrong with taking things slow or going quickly. People move at the paces they think are best for them. And I'm sure your very attractive yourself once I am able to see you, but that will no doubt be a bit.\" \n\nVy didn't want Thyme to feel as if she wasn't able to express how she might be feeling. Though Vy would wonder if the succubus part of her was playing some role in any of the feeling as they had in the past. She would just have to hope it wasn't the case and they just stayed close\n\n\"That is feeling better, thank you for helping me with that. I know it wasn't exactly getting better after it been feeling like that for a couple of weeks. We will need some new clothes soon as well. I'm sure that wasn't helping out my clothes any or the wear I simple have for them... Well guess it's time we get our baths done so we can rest than?\"" }, { "author": "Thyme", "message": "\"Hmmm... Maybe I could cook then! I mean I can make a kitchen room here, we should save up magical energy so I can make a proper house in the evening and then I could cook! Ingredients are cheaper than a full meal right? And I already know a lot of things that would be needed in a kitchen like fires and cooking. I can make stews and stuff so I could give it a try!\" She says brightly. Wondering if that's a good idea or not but proud she can offer something to both of them. \"And honey... I can gather loads of that. I just need to ask the bees if they are okay with it but I'm sure they will give us some if I ask nicely!\"\n\nThough Thyme is Such* A flustered dolt at the relationship conversion. \"There isn't...? Oh, I thought it was wrong. Which is why I wasn't sure... Because you're so pretty... Not that I want to you know, rush things, or we don't even need to go to that, you know, cause you haven't seen me and I don't even know how relationships work! So yeah...\" For a moment she moves over to the sink and splashes her face with cold water. Get a grip of yourself Thyme!\n\nShe returns quickly however, not wanting Vy to be alone near water for too long at all, giving her shoulder a squeeze when she returns but looking over the tattoo, which is still there, but it doesn't seem infected anymore. \"That sounds like a good idea. The bath is directly to your right. If you need a hand with anything just let me know.\n\nWith her other hand she creates another spell, or rather, she casts one. Another low level spell \"Unseen servant.\" After this, she strips off her own clothes, not embarrassed as Vy cannot see. Though she would wait until Vy does the same before giving the command to her unseen servant. \"Take these and wash and dry them, please\". Why she would say please to a literal spell that isn't even alive... But I guess Thyme is polite like that" }, { "author": "Vynixi Settia", "message": "\"Well don't worry too much about getting any cooking done for now. We can both learn to cook along the way and well figure out least one meal we can make I'm sure. We can always ask someone how to cook as well for that. Well we don't need honey all the time, but some now and again would be nice, since it does taste good.\"\n\n\"No no, there is nothing that says no to such a relationship. But yes there is no rush in anything and your always welcome to express how you might be feeling. I know there is pretty a lot that is kind if new for both of us. Relationships are pretty much a friend with a bit more to it but we can talk about that all later.\" Vy would smile as she was trying to just help out with Thyme feeling flustered about such a small thing.\n\nVy would smile and nod as she would strip her own clothes to let this little servant wash and dry their clothes? After she would slowly make her way into the bath. She would relax a bit with the water feeling warm as it did feel nice especially after dancing. Helps the muscles relax a bit after just a big performance* \"You can make a servant? That's pretty impressive that you know a spell like that.\"" }, { "author": "Thyme", "message": "\"Hmm, that's a good idea, and I'm sure there will be cook books and stuff, that would be another thing we could learn and master together, it will be another adventure for us to overcome!\" She says brightly. \"And don't worry. Tomorrow before we head out I will get you some honey for the road before we leave the forest behind. Maybe I could gather some to sell as well as other items from the forest to sell when we reach our next destination\"\n\n\"Well... If I was to express how I feel it would be that you're very pretty, and I really like being around you and how you make me feel. But you are right, we can talk about all that stuff later. It's more important that we stay comfortable and safe and get to where we are going!\" She says, it seems the way that Vy has worded such things has made Thyme a lot less flustered, which is certainly a good thing\n\nAs Vy strips off and gets in the warm water filled with soap, Thyme hands the clothes to her unseen servant before turning back to Vy. Though she does so not in a lewd way. Indeed she barely sees Vy's body at all, she is back to her protective way of making sure that Vy is alright and safe. \"Yeah! It's a minor spell, the servent isn't alive, it isn't even a spirit or anything. It's just like... A manifistation of the spell. It can preform very basic tasks but nothing complicated. So like cleaning stuff is okay, I don't think it can get anymore complicated\"" } ]	382	33,921
515.1875	1776-07-04	GuildPublicThread	[ { "author": "Victoria 'Vix' Stonespire", "message": "In the mind of Victoria, there were few better ways to spend a day than performing, especially when those around her paid well. Really, the only thing better than a full day performing was a half-day that made her a purse full of coin. That was the case today, and she was most content. There was a distinct spring in her step, the heels of her boots clicking against cobblestone in an even staccato as she moved. The woman's spine was straight, head lifted to take in the streets around her. This, she thought, was among the most pleasant of places one could spend an afternoon. She'd spent the better part of the day indoors, moving between taverns. Really, she'd only left because she was quite certain that she'd somewhat overstayed her welcome. Something like guilt at not staying out longer gnawed at her, but she had elected to ignore it. It wasn't as she was short on money. At least not right now... It wasn't as if there was any good money to be made from standing on street corners. At least not enough to justify how unpleasant it would be to stand out there for the rest of the day.\n\nThere was enough life here to make up for the fact that this square was one she crossed nearly every day. Had her sense of direction and general awareness been any poorer, she would have perhaps thought this square to be different each time she set foot here. Even if it had been dull and wretched, the feeling of the sun on her back would have just about made up for it anyway. Today, Vix was not headed toward home, at least not directly. No, instead, she was taking a meandering path through the square and streets, taking up as much time as she possibly could. Her eyes were fixed on her surroundings, head tilted half up, though careful not to lock eyes with any one person. Her ears, which had morphed into a strange mix between humanoid and something covered in short, dark fur, had rotated forward.\n\nShe was certainly a beastwalker of some sort, though it was more than likely quite difficult to tell what species. \n\nThe rest of Vix's posture was just a bit strange, at least for one who was walking. Her left hand was on the strap of fabric slung over her back. This was part of the cloth contraption holding her violin to her back. This sling seemed to have been held together with knots rather than stitching. This contraption was almost jarringly shabby in contrast to the rest of her. Her clothing looked rather new, and was more than likely colorful enough to make her stand out. At the very least her clothing was far more noticeable than her rather shoddy lute case. Her dress was the most colorful thing, enough so that it was perhaps a bit much to look at. The bodice and sleeves, which reached her elbows were a rather bright shade of red-orange, fitted to her frame but not skin-tight. The skirt was a rather heavy-looking layered thing, half in that same red-orange and half in an orange-yellow. Her boots, which could be partly seen beneath her skirts, were laced with orange ribbon, ribbon that matched the one holding her hair back into a braid. A leather belt, one wrapped with a red scarf, as if to disguise it, was fastened around her waist, a small fabric coin purse hung from it, partially obscured. There was nothing about her appearance that suggested subtlety, in fact, it seemed every bit of it had been designed to draw eyes." }, { "author": "Niles Haran", "message": "Of all the cities he had visited in his career as a courier, Varilon was hardly unique. Many cities had their walls and fortifications, their squares and alleys - and so too did the capital of Alynthi. What made it stand out was the simple size of it. Even Ardunon, a massive city compared to Slydenn and Carnifex, paled in comparison to the sheer scale of the bustling streets and stonework walls.\n\nHe supposed that it was the consequence of having a good deal of people around - in Gantrick, it had been far too cold for a long growing season, and the cities tended to be smaller, more compact, easier to feed. In Findara, they were concentrated mostly along the coast, Ardunon included, and smelled sometimes of fish if one wandered too near the docks. \n\nThe worn stones of Varilon were earthier, the people different. Friendlier in some ways, more guarded in others. Banners hung above the shops and squares, fluttering in the breeze. The black stag on the golden field. More than he had ever seen. Every once in a while, above a doorframe, there was an iron stag hung. Much more rarely, he spotted two. Above the entrance of one smithy near the square, three wrought-iron figures stood guard in solemn remembrance.\n\nThe company was pleasant, and he did business enough in Varilon that a vague acknowledgement sometimes made its way to his ears. Like clockwork, the coins made their way into his pockets, and he could usually find his directions by asking if he did not know the way. Yet when his deliveries were said and done, and he was headed back to the wayshrine, he paused for a moment to take in a deep breath, moving through the city towards a row of bakeries in a nearby square.\n\n_ _\nThough as always, he had to remember to keep his guard up. Places that seemed friendly enough could be the most dangerous. A false sense of security killed just as easily as a knife, and sometimes more quickly. Eyes of cloudy gray-blue began to sweep the crowd once again as the golden-haired courier continued his sauntering through the city, oaken walking stick tapping on the pavers as he went.\n\nPosture. \n\nThe first indication that someone was up to a different task than the general crowd was a change in posture. The shape of the brightly colored woman that drew his eyes had been the first clue, and the eye-popping dyes the second. His gaze lingered for a moment, trying to see if she was searching for something. It didn't appear so - a hunter would have been referring back to a fixed position for their quarry - but her habits suggested she was on the lookout.\n\nA cloth contraption on her back holding... Something within it. A lute case? Perhaps a musician. He was intrigued enough. At the very least, he would be able to request a song or two from the woman, and spend a penny for some enjoyment. Through the crowd he began to maneuver, forging a path towards the performer. Under the folds of his gray peddler's cloak, a little spider materialized. It was no time to be foolish - often traps were baited with something harmless. \n\nThe tiny arachnid crawled its way up to his neck, settling just on the back of his collar to look out for danger. Its vision, combined with Niles's, gave advance warning as he reached the performer, half-stumbling on the first step in order to seem less coordinated. People liked a bit of a bumbler. Bumblers were relatable.\n\n\"Excuse me, miss?\" He called briefly to Victoria, cupping one hand to be heard. \"Are you a musician?\"" }, { "author": "Victoria 'Vix' Stonespire", "message": "Vix's attention had been captured, though not by the one who had noticed her. There was no shortage of vendors here, and though there was more than likely a shortage of quality goods, a cart of fruit had caught her eye. This was something rather hard to fake the quality of, Vix thought, and she was more than capable of determining if she was being overcharged... The woman had taken exactly two steps in the direction of this halfway enticing target when something just a bit less interesting stumbled into her path.\n\nA man. Young, unless he was using some sort of magic to hide his age, or he was of the sort that didn't look his age. The walking stick in his hand was interesting. Was it necessary? Or cosmetic? Really, she did want to know, even if it was none of her business. Vix's eyes quickly refocused on Niles' face. It was best not to give others the impression that they were being examined.\n\n\"No, I'm a shoemaker.\"\n\nIt was a stupid question, she thought, and Vix provided what she thought was a suitably stupid answer. He'd come up from behind her, he could certainly see the rather obviously violin-shaped case strapped to her back. She let this statement hang in the air for a moment, face held in a blank deadpan. A closer look at her features perhaps provided some sort of insight into exactly what sort of beastwalker she was. Her dark eyes were quite round, and were circled by white makeup, framed at the edges with yellow-gold that nearly matched her skirt. Her eyes were the only part of her face that didn't seem to be made of harsh angles. \n\nA long moment passed, and Vix's face split into a smile. Perhaps her exceptionally pleasant mood was not shared, and this teasing would not be appreciated. However, it wasn't as if it would be all too huge a loss anyway, should have have decided to take issue with her.\n\n\"Yes, I am a musician. Are you from the tavern back there?\"\n\nHer posture loosened, weight shifting to her left foot. She lifted her left hand, gesturing vaguely back toward the street she'd come from. Her smile remained. Fluidly, as her left moved, her right hand settled on her hip, over her coin purse. Her statement was intentionally vague in terms of location. She'd been to several taverns already, but was almost certain she had not seen this man. She wanted to see if he would lie. She wasn't often stopped on the street, but it wasn't completely unheard of. However, a busy place was prime territory for thieves, and a friendly man was a perfect distraction." }, { "author": "Niles Haran", "message": "The eyes.\n\nThey were active, as he might have thought they'd be - and they lingered on the walking stick. It was funny how the most innocuous objects could be the source of scrutiny when one knew what they were doing. Whether she was wary from having seen one too many 'lame' beggars or had some knowledge of just how many enchantments could be placed on a piece of wood, she had some sense about her.\n\nShe at first seemed a little unpleasant - but there was a break in the clouds, and a sense of humor shone through. Dramatic effect. Performers were often good at building tension, and from the looks of her, she performed indeed. White makeup around the eyes gave an almost unnatural ring to the deadpan stare she had leveled at him, even if the yellow-gold accents helped soothe the edges.\n\nBest to be unfazed, he thought - if he were to recover too quickly from being cowed by the deadpan stare, a little too much light was cast on the fact that it was an act. So his friendly smile remained in place as he waited her out, continuing unbroken into a joke of his own.\n\n\"I Thought That was a funny-looking shoebox.\" He let a laugh escape him for a moment. \"No, I'm not from any tavern - I spotted the... Shoebox, and just figured there were a few too many stags in my pocket for me not to request a song or two, if you don't mind.\"\n\nOut of the corner of his eye, he noticed the movements of her hands. Settling on her hips to cover a coin purse, one free to gesture or swing if needed. Good stuff, generally. Maybe she knew her way around the street well enough. If he'd been a common thief, the hike in difficulty of robbing her would have been significant. Fortunately enough, he wasn't pickpocketing today. He did bookmark the thought for later, though. It never hurt to get back into practice when you were out of the game for a little while.\n\n_ _\n\"I don't suppose you know 'The Shore, the Shore'?\" He asked. He had been putting on a Findaran accent for so many years now that it came natural to him - while Findarans were relatively common in Alynthi as visitors, he still stood out a bit from the crowd. \"I haven't heard a good rendition in a while.\"" }, { "author": "Victoria 'Vix' Stonespire", "message": "Humor was always a risk. Here, however, the consequence associated with utter failure was almost nothing. That more than made up for the fact that the opportunity for reward was similarly slim. This one seemed pleasant enough, even if he hadn't given her much of a reaction, though that too had been offset by the sound of the laugh. It seemed genuine enough.\n\nThe performance continued.\n\n\"Suspiciously violin shaped, I'd say!\"\n\nHer smile widened, lips parting to show off her teeth. If one had by some miracle managed to avoid noticing the rest of her rather beastly features, or if assumptions had been made based on those ears of hers, said teeth could perhaps seems quite strange. The canines especially were exceptionally pronounced, though not especially sharp.\n\nVix reached back. Wrapping a hand around the neck of her violin case and tugging it around her body. It wasn't the most graceful action, but she didn't want to simply release the knot holding the slingtogether and launch the violin into the ground. The case was quite a sturdy thing, but it was still a very stupid risk. Opening a case to a broken violin was not something one could recover from.\n\n\"Certainly!\"\n\nThe woman was holding her violin and case balanced on one arm, using the other to pull the instrument and bow free. She was still looking at Niles, though her mind had slipped elsewhere. 'The Shore, the Shore'? That title was incredibly familiar. She'd heard it before. Now she just needed to find the tune. A folk song, maybe? The sort of thing that she would have learned as a child, when she was just learning how to play? Or maybe it was regional? His accent was a good place to start. It wasn't Alynthi. Findaran, probably. Her eyes narrowed briefly, followed by a blink. The smile, which had faltered slightly, reappared.\n\n\"Hum a line for me, would you? I'd much like to hear what rendition you know!\"\n\nOnce the instrument was free, Vix briefly stooped, bending at the knees, to place it on the ground. In the same motion, violin and bow held in one hand, she rid herself of her sling, setting it spooled atop the case. She then stood, swinging the instrument up to her left shoulder, and raising her bow. Her posture twisted slightly, right hip rotated inward, toward Niles. Trust was something one did not afford to a crowd. At least now she could at least pretend to watch her purse out of her peripheral." }, { "author": "Niles Haran", "message": "Oh, this was beginning to be fun. Practicing sheepishness was no trouble at all when he was able to muster up the lack of talent in signing all by himself. Ethan Pedron the courier and Niles the spy had that in common, of course - there was no faking a singing voice unless you had one in the first place, and the gods had not seen fit to grant one to him.\n\nHe had registered that she was a beastwalker like him almost too quickly to be noticed - but the fangs put him somewhere towards the target on what sort of animal she could shift into. The ears were mammal, to be sure, but there were lots of furry ears in the animal kingdom. The shape was familiar - and the fangs were beginning to paint a picture. A fox was his first guess, though he knew of no foxes that were quite that dark in color...\n\n\"Well, don't get too excited for me. I'm not a singer myself, but this is roughly how it goes.\" He cleared his throat, a grin covering his embarrassment as he began to strike up a chorus. He'd heard this song in most taverns in Ardunon at one point or another. A flat sort of baritone came from his throat as he buckled down to the song. His cheeks were beginning to flush pink. The best sort of lie was one you did not have to fabricate.\n\n\"The shore, the shore,\nTo the shore we go,\nAnd when we talk,\nOf you we'll know,\nTo the shore you go,\nFrom the shore you leave,\nAnd my words,\nRemember me...\"\n\nIt was the chorus of a series of verses covering the islands that dotted the Findaran coast. The song itself spoke of a love waiting on an island, a love that left from the shore, of the wine-dark sea, the white sand beaches, and the snow-capped mountains that rose behind them. There were many things he had come to enjoy about Findara and many he had come to hate, but it was difficult not to enjoy the music.\n\n_ _ \nOf course, as a sheepish courier (and maybe a sheepish spy) would, Niles stopped as the verse ended, casting a hopeful glance in the direction of Victoria. His coin was good, of course, but it wasn't of much help unless she knew the tune. Musicians, no matter how good they were, were not superhuman, and this one's knowledge could never be completely encyclopedic.\n\n\"You would know that one, right?\"" }, { "author": "Victoria 'Vix' Stonespire", "message": "Was she still being examined?\n\nHe had quick eyes, she thought. That was the best way to describe them. She did appreciate that they did not linger as the eyes of some did. However, she was not sure it set her at ease. She settled back, lifting her chin from her violin and closing her lips back over her teeth. She was still smiling, head now held at a tilt. Her gaze held his, \n\n\"Well, neither am I! I shan't be judging you!\"\n\nVix leaned back on her right leg, pressing her weight into her heel. There was something about encouraging others like this, especially when they were more than likely to be rather terrible, that was exceptionally entertaining. She didn't even need to fake her smile. \n\nThe smile only grew as he sang. Really, he wasn't bad, and she was in no place to judge. Her fingers were moving across the fingerboard, though the bow of her violin sat at her side. Ah! This was familiar. Her time in the orchestra had made it so. She'd played it once or twice, she thought, though she hadn't performed it. It was the sort of thing she'd learned for the fun of it, for the sort of evenings spent sitting in an inn with those she had only music in common with.\n\n\"Would I? Under different circumstances, no. Under these ones, I certainly do!\"\n\nSpeaking nonsense was enjoyable. It typically made people shut up, ponder, and listen to her perform. Once the words had left her lips, Vix gave a flourish of her bow, another smile, this one tight-lipped and restrained. Her bow hesitated, hovering above her strings for a moment. \n\n\"By the way, you really do have quite a lovely voice!\"\n\nPerhaps He Could be goaded into further performance. Most people thrived on praise. If such a person was paying her and could be made to feel at ease, quite convenient. It was already established she was skilled, and most who stopped her, believing her so competent, did not take much to be convinced that she was not only talented in music, but also in detecting talent.\n\nThe grin grew back to toothy, and Vix set about playing. It took her a second to find her stride, brows briefly furrowing and ears flicking forward, toward the violin. Once she found it however, the tune was quite the same as Niles' had sang, minus that bit of flatness. Her instrument was well-tuned, and her ear and memory were good. Her playing was not, however, utterly faithful to the written note. \n\nThere were quite a few little grace notes and flourishes added, though the melody remained the same. Vix was fairly certain she was in something approaching the right key. At least it was recognizable, most certainly. Recognizable, and entertaining enough to earn a few coins." }, { "author": "Niles Haran", "message": "She was a fountain of jokes, this one. Guarded in her mannerisms still. There was nothing too out of the ordinary about her that he had seen. The bright, colorful garb was a common trait of most bards, the garb designed to attract attention. Those that lived on coin tossed their way by the public had more often than not gone hungry at some point, and those that went hungry guarded their coins well. \n\nYet he wondered if the life of a bard would be another ideal cover for a spy. Clearly, the woman had the trappings of a musician, and a musical talent of some kind was needed in order to make it work. Bards could travel anywhere. They were employed on the street if they wished, and in high council chambers if they had the right connections. They never had to stay in one place, never needed a set home. Their songs themselves could be messages. She seemed clever enough.\n\n\"Oh, and here I thought you were halfway musical.\" He joked back, leaning on his walking stick with one hand as he prepared to listen to the performance. The instrument was likely her source of income, and for those who could not sing, dancing or playing was a steady recourse. But it was likely flattery for coin - and in the spirit of being a paying customer, he reached for the purse at his belt to open the drawstrings once she made a crack and played the beginnings of the tune.\n\nHis fingers froze halfway to the opening as his eyes widened in disbelief. This woman was trying to get him to sing? That was rather unfortunate. Even worse, she was trying to Needle* Him into singing. It was not his favorite pastime, that was certain, and... The look on her face was not what he'd thought it might be. She had seemed almost about to force herself to play before the mischievous grin had come over her face. What was that about, he wondered?\n\n_ _\nThe pieces clicked into place one after another. Performing for one person was not a good use of time. It made very little money. Two people performing together drew more attention, and made her seem more endearing by interacting with the crowd. There was no downside for her if he sang along, even if there was very little musical merit to his voice. Perhaps she'd get a chorus from a crowd. He had to respect the social engineering at play.\n\n\"Well...\" He cleared his throat once more, unsure of himself. She had practically done him a favor by agreeing to his request for no guarantee of payment. He could do one for her.* \"Look, I know I'm not good, but if you think it'll help, I might as well give a shout. Just don't, ah, don't expect some kind of Sorevelle level performance.\"\n\n\"Upon the foam, upon the foam cast from the sea,\nThe one I love, the one I love lays in her sleep,\nPlease, unruly waves, I beg of thee,\nNot to wake her from her dreams.\n\nThe shore, the shore...\"" }, { "author": "Victoria 'Vix' Stonespire", "message": "Vix's posture had slowly untwisted, her right foot now being held back, feet making a sort of square. However, though her posture had opened, she did not seem to be making any further effort to draw eyes. Much of her outfit, namely the skirt, seemed to have quite an excess of fabric, meant to move as she did. However, Vix's posture remained rigid, and she only seemed to be taking up as much space as she absolutely needed in order to perform.\n\n\"Well, a halfway decent voice does not a performer make...\"\n\nHer smile remained. Slowly, Vix leaned forward, tilting her head toward him. When she spoke, her voice was in a half-whisper, playful, but still strangely impersonal. Her eyes did not linger on his eyes for more than a few seconds at a time, and she maintained just about an arms length and a half between the two. \n\n\"...You should know!\"\n\nShe leaned back from him, lifting her chin from her violin and giving a rather exaggerated roll of her head, as if she was tossing her hair. Of course, her hair was tied back in a rather tight braid, and hardly moved at all. \n\n\"Oh, don't you worry! You'll be fine! Sang well enough to help Me, didn'tcha?\"\n\nVix's attention now turned more sharply to Niles, though she still was watching him from the corner of her eye . There were a few ways to torment him here, but none that would be worth it. No, any meddling with tempo or key would also run the risk of throwing herself off. He'd turned red enough to be amusing the first time she'd made him sing. That alone made some level of needling worthwhile.\n\nHer eyes slid from Niles. There were enough eyes on her that she was not being jostled about, but not so many that she would be expected to keep playing. Good.\n\nIt was a shame that she couldn't remember exactly how this song ended. Her fellow performers certainly hadn't sang the whole thing. Or maybe they had? Vix had, somewhat regretfully, had quite a bit to drink that night. The notes had stuck, but the words had not. \n\nShe had decided she was just about done playing, given that the gain was fairly small. Now came the true test. Figuring out how to cue him to cut off. The urge to simply stop playing and see how he handled it was quite strong. However, he still had yet to part with any coin. Would the gain of humiliation be more than that of coin?\n\nProbably Not.\n\nVix waited a moment, for him to approach what sounded like a chorus, slowing as she did, swaying forward and pressing her head and violin downward. It was as clear a cue she could provide without just stopping short. If he continued, that felt like his problem." }, { "author": "Niles Haran", "message": "A roll of the eyes was all the response he gave to the (admittedly quite clever) crack that the minstrel had thrown at him. It was flattery meant for coin, he told himself, and it was nothing he could ever begin to pay attention to seriously. His voice was bad, he knew that. There was nothing that could change it, least of all a street performer's moves for money.\n\nStill, she played a pretty melody. There was a moment where the thought occurred to him that she was relatively close - but that was a function of the crowd more than anything else, and relatively close only for his comfort. A quick thrust of the knife and step-in could close the distance of arm's reach quickly, especially if the target was distracted. His eyes darted from place to place as he continued to sing.\n\n\"Would that the sea, would that the sea turn into wine,\nThe mountaintops, the mountaintops to food on which to dine,\nThe ships to glasses polished to a shine, \nFor festivals and crowds of yours and mine.\"\n\n\"The shore, the shore...\" There was a small moment where he caught her studying him almost like a piece of steak on a dinner plate. It was ridiculous, he thought, that he was humiliating himself like this. But anyone who walked by would hardly think that the man being roped into a performance was a spy, nor would they think there was anything purposeful in the furious blush of embarrassment that had come over his face. \n\nIn truth, there Was* Nothing purposeful in it, but that was rather the point. To show vulnerability was to add to an alibi... That he was not quite doing much to reinforce, given that he was outside of his home base. In that case, all he could wish for was for the song to end. It was one of his favorites, of course, but there was something a good deal different about singing in a crowd versus singing by oneself.\n\n_ _\nBut the music slowed, and with her he too slowed, trying to match pace as the song came to an end. He was no musician, of course, but he managed to drag out the last horrid note of 'dreams' into something dreadfully off-key. He was already uncomfortable - the least he could do was take the facade to such an extent that it might make her ears hurt to listen a little. Petty revenge, of course, but it was what he had at his disposal.\n\nAs the song ended, Niles leaned back onto his walking stick, shaking his head ruefully as he reached for his coin purse. That deserved at least three towers, even if it wasn't a pleasant experience for him. After all, he'd been looking for a song, and she'd obliged in masterful fashion.\n\n\"For the song.\" He held the three copper coins out, each pressed with the image of the tower of the Mage Hands, a sight familiar to Findarans.* \"And for the fact that it ended. You're good, you know.\" She had skipped two verses, but he was thankful for that." }, { "author": "Victoria 'Vix' Stonespire", "message": "It took everything within Vix to keep her smile from growing too wide, to keep herself from breaking into a laugh. It was one thing to be made to feel foolish by a performer, and another to be directly laughed at. No, the two of them could separately know that his voice was not pleasant. If she was to break that separation, to become both the architect and the enjoyer of his embarrassment, a line would be crossed. The sport would be over and she would be an adversary.\n\nHer resolve — not to continue, but to end— nearly broke as his expression changed. The shade of his face was nearly rivaling that of her skirt! It was amusing, but not the sort of amusing that drew a crowd. No, this was the sort of amusing that drew pitying glances and earned her no money.\n\nIt was, however, still entirely worth it.\n\nVix lowered her violin and bow as he sang his final note, allowing his voice to be the final, rather horrid say. His motion was mirrored, though half as severely, by the woman. She rocked back on her right heel, the toe of her left foot pointing up. It was as natural an intentional gesture as she was capable of. The end of her bow rested lightly against her boot. Vix cocked her head.\n\n\"Why thank you!\"\n\nShe leaned forward, fingers lightly scraping his as she took the coins. Her fingers were long and slender enough so that they seemed rather inhuman, the nails, which were dark in hue, were almost claw-like. Her fingers ran across the surface of the coins in place of her eyes, feeling out what she could of the design before the coins disappeared into her purse.\n\n\"High praise for one who paid me to stop playing. Not half bad yourself.\"\n\nHe was perhaps three-quarters bad, but that didn't need to be spoken of. Diplomacy was the way here. Tucking the bow of her violin beneath her arm, Vix stuck out a hand.\n\n\"Victoria Stonespire, by the way. Suppose I may as well give my name to you, so you can warn your friends about the horrid woman who forced you to sing!\"" }, { "author": "Niles Haran", "message": "Frustration seethed beneath the surface of the practiced mask of geniality that Niles was constantly forced to project. This woman was enjoying every minute of the damned situation, and they both knew it. There was little he could do but go along with it - no use in making a scene - but he would surely remember the way she was enjoying it for later. \n\nHer mail, he decided, would contain a much more insulting tone of letter than she ever intended to write should she send any through the courier service. He already opened all his letters - and most he returned untouched. But hers would be facing a full rewrite in his best forgery handwriting if he could ever get the chance. Yes, perhaps she had a set of patrons he could alienate.\n\n\"Well, I estimate at least more than half.\" He maintained his previous statement with a smile, taking her hand for a brief, almost businesslike handshake. The claws of a beastwalker were familiar to him. His mother had exhibited similar features, and many of the townsfolk back in Slydenn had popped out a fang or two when they smiled.\n\n\"Ethan Pedron.\" He recited his name with a small flash of a smile, indicating his leather mailbag with a flourish of the walking stick that he hoped was not necessarily enough to seem mocking. \"There's my name for you, in case you want to send mail to someone you don't want to speak to.\" He hesitated for a moment, as if contemplating a detail.\n\n\"I say that as a joke, but one time, someone used me to send an adder to a woman that he thought he deserved more time with. If you Really Want to send mail to someone you don't want to speak to, please be forewarned that I do open packages to inspect the contents.\" He added, careful to protect the security of his business. \"Strictly confidential, of course, but I can't really have people sending each other glyphs of warding in the mail.\"" }, { "author": "Victoria 'Vix' Stonespire", "message": "He was harder to read now, when he wasn't largely at her mercy. This, she thought, was perhaps the least fun part of performances like this. There was no more music, but it still wasn't simple talk. It was theater, in a way. Or perhaps some sort of repair. She had to make sure her victim wasn't going to beat her over the head with his walking stick when she turned her back.\n\n\"More than half? Selling yourself short, then.\"\n\nHe had a strange handshake, she thought, but that was to be expected. Claws like hers were useful for encouraging such behavior. She didn't very much want to be held on to. As her hand dropped, her fingers flexed, curling around the bow beneath her arm and drawing it free. Once more, the tip of the thing was brought to rest against her boot. \n\n\"Ethan! Lovely to meet you. I shan't forget it — or you, for that matter.\"\n\nEthan Pedron. She didn't think they were likely to cross paths again. He probably would avoid her, even if she really had enjoyed his company. Bright coloration went both ways, she supposed. She was both drawing eyes and warning away those wise enough to recognize the potential for humiliation.\n\n\"Oh! I may have to take you up on that. Plenty of folk I don't want to face... Though..\"\n\nShe leaned in once more, bending at the waist. Her feet remained firmly planted on the ground.\n\n\"How can I be sure you won't return the favor and humiliate me?\"\n\nVix grinned, her eyes locking to his. There was no way this man was going to handle a single bit of mail from her. In fact, this did present a bit of a problem. Had she seen him before, under circumstances in which she would not remember a face? Certainly she didn't remember every courier she'd ever spoken to...\n\n\"Oh please! Don't worry about what I send. You must realize by now I'm best at being cruel face to face!\"\n\nShe straightened, curling her ring and pinky finger around the bow of her violin, then brushing her hand down her skirt. Her toe had moved to prop up her violin case." }, { "author": "Niles Haran", "message": "\"My pleasure, Miss Stonespire.\" He inclined his head politely. A partial pang of disappointment ran through his mind at the thought that she would not forget him - but in truth, being remembered had its uses, just like being forgotten. In any case, he could be forgotten quite easily to most people. If she was someone he would have liked to keep tabs on, there would be much more opportunity for it now.\n\n\"Service is to any city with a wayshrine, though I work out of Ardunon. As a matter of fact. I'm just coming back from a delivery now.\" He added at the mention that she might take him up on his courier services. He had to sell himself in more ways than one, and part of that was advertising. \"Urgent deliveries at all hours if you need, and local mail out delivered before noon the next day. It's two blocks west of the west gate of the palace. Ask for me, people will know.\"\n\nOh, he very much wished he could have the chance to humiliate her. Without breaking character, of course - it was certain to bring nothing but trouble if she found out anything too deep about him. Performers, he thought to himself in disgust. If only she knew what a performance she was witnessing at that very moment. But if wishes were coppers, then Niles Haran would be a rich man indeed.\n\n\"For one, the reputation of my business.\" He raised an eyebrow. \"You wouldn't miss a trick in putting the song of a disreputable courier out there, and you'd probably write some pretty lyrics to go along with it. You might be the Best At cruelty face to face, but that shouldn't restrict you from other options, I think. Anyway...\"\n\nHe swung his bag back securely over his shoulder, re-seating it so that it seemed comfortable. \"Thanks for the song. I appreciate it.\"" }, { "author": "Victoria 'Vix' Stonespire", "message": "Vix pushed case up with one foot, then once more bent at the knees to pick it and her sling up. As she had done before, she balanced the case on a bent arm, setting about putting her instrument away. This was the best way, she thought, to show others that she was getting ready to leave. There was only so much of her time she was willing to give up for three coppers.\n\n\"In that case, you must be tired, and I will let you by on your way. Your business does sound terribly convenient though, for one who is not making the journey!\"\n\nShe snapped the lid of her case closed, settling it under her arm. Then, she picked up the fabric sling — which had thus far been hanging over her arm— folded it in half, and then tucked it into her belt. It wasn't all that graceful a motion to tie it to her back, and there was something to be said for dignity. Though it wasn't as if Ethan had anything to say about that...\n\n\"I only tease, Mister Pedron. I have the utmost trust in your standard of work.\"\n\nShe did not tease nor trust. Two blocks west of the west palace gate was now as good as forbidden territory. Vix gave a little wave of her hand, accompanied by another fanged smile. \n\n\"Well, in that case, perhaps there Are Some I'd like to give a piece of my mind. In writing, of course. You wouldn't believe how some people treat their hired performers!\"\n\nThe beastwalker took a small step back, giving him room to walk past her. There was an aspect of caution here. Even if she hadn't been a bit funny, she did not make a habit of letting anyone she'd been over-friendly with follow after her. Some were too desperate and made assumptions. It was too easy to lose sight of a pursuer in the crowd, and very easy to track one who stood out.\n\n\"You're very welcome. And thank You For the song! Do have a lovely day.\"" }, { "author": "Niles Haran", "message": "\"Same to you.\" Across the cobblestone streets of Varilon did Niles Haran walk, embarrassment and fury hiding behind a genial smile on his face as he made his way back to the wayshine - and, hopefully, back home for a nice, cool drink and some hot food. He had been too long away from Ardunon..." } ]	524	8,243
485	1776-07-04	GuildPublicThread	[ { "author": "Astalios, Iron King", "message": "When the letters of the day were written, the fire burned low, and the eyes of King Astalios were heavy enough for sleep, there remained only one task before the beginning of the next day - an incident report that seemed connected to an encounter he'd had in the Greenheart. One orc was a coincidence - given that the orc was from Dazvaz, and not a citizen of Alynthi.\n\nTwo was concerning.\n\nThough he'd been dispatched, there was a small investigation he needed to conduct - leaving no stone unturned was the best way to proceed, though it undoubtedly took the most effort. One man's attention could only split so many ways. Delsandra and her antics in Thyseer, the eye turned towards the border in Dazvaz, Alyus and his ilk in Gantrick, Matron Dhakashira in Lazaroth and her knowledge of his secrets, this Catalyst and Devourer... \n\nAnthron.\n\nRest was a commodity for a man that had little time in the day - and Astalios had quickly become such a man in the time since his ascension. How his father had dealt with the workload, he had never known - but he supposed he was to find out through experience. Perhaps it was because his father spared only an hour for physical practice a day. \n\nRegardless, as he sat exhausted at his desk, he pulled himself upright to await the next entrant, making sure that he was presentable. His armor shivered for a moment to shake off any dust or impurity, polishing itself to ensure a fresh shine. His crown re-seated itself on his head, the antlered circlet raising and lowering to reset its position.\n\nThe next guest he could see with his mind's eye almost from half the castle away - the animated armor that had once been an honored knight. Though he had lost his voice, he had been in service for a few centuries. The encounter with an orc that had attacked him on sight was sure to yield a few details, and he needed to review his conduct regardless.\n\n_ _\nAs the suit of armor approached the door, the iron lock unlatched, and it swung open of its own accord. The king's voice met the knight in a deep baritone that masked his exhaustion with strength, and piercing mud-brown eyes surveyed the guest as he entered the study.\n\n\"Enter, sir.\"" }, { "author": "The Guardian", "message": "The day was nearly over, most would be completely shattered and craving for rest. But not Dragoon he can't get tired, anything a human feels. Dragoon does not. A blessing and a curse as it makes him a formidable opponent in battle but he is practically just a shell with no real feeling towards anything. He stood there eerily silent outside the entrance to his king's office/study, he was an opposing figure. 9 '0 feet tall, hundreds of pounds and completely blacked out with no ability to talk.\n\nIt was true that he had been in Alynthi's service for near three centuries, 50+ years alive as a Dragonborn knight and well the 200+ centuries as an Animated Armor that's soul purpose is to protect the royal family and kingdom of Alynthi, So he isn't going anywhere any time soon. He is not exactly sure on why his king has called him here as well, he's not exactly the easiest to talk to and he surely has better things to do than talk to this old soul. But it was nice whenever he talked to his king as he served his father in life and death and watched Astalios grow up and take his fathers throne and become an independent and great man. Sometimes he wishes he had that life, but no his calling is service not leadership.\n\nAs he heard 'Enter Sir' he hastily made his way in, ducking through the door and standing infront of his liege. He was quite ominous as he stood there silently with no recogniseable living features like eyes or even a mouth. His gray cape that hung off his shoulders drooping all the way to the floor with arrow holes, burn marks, rips and tears that littered it. Even more so his armor looked battered with scratches, dents and scrapes that were scattered across this ancient armor. Sometimes his new body gets the best of him as he just stands there waiting for his King to ask him a question or something." }, { "author": "Astalios, Iron King", "message": "The knight was old, of course - not as old as some in the service of Alynthi, but still venerable. Elves lived for four centuries or more, but it was not often that a man who was intended to live for perhaps one had his life extended. Once, the armor had been a dragonborn, but there were few records of that time now compared to the length of time he'd spent as a sentient suit of metal. A mental note was made to ask him later if he wished for a repair. It would be as simple as the wave of a hand for the scratches and dents to be straightened out - scratches and pitting led to rusting, one of the few ways his body could evendually be completely destroyed.\n\n\"I apologize, sir, for the lack of appropriately sized seating, so I must ask you to stand.\" He nodded his head in recognition, pulling a sheet of parchment from a drawer in his writing desk. The last sheet of parchment for the day, but he could have others brought in. A quill, too, he placed on the desk nearest the suit of animated armor - they needed to be able to communicate properly for the report to be made.\n\n\"I asked you here in order to discuss your encounter with the orc in the Greenheart forest.\" He laced his fingers together, sitting back in his chair. \"I myself had a similar encounter some months ago - a lone orc, far from Dazvaz, and neither was he a citizen of Alynthi. Perhaps it was also in the same region of the Greenheart, where the House of Elk reign.\"\n\n\"Please start by giving me a physical description of the orc that attacked you. Any distinguishing marks - tribal heraldry, skin tone, a particular way of braiding the hair or style of weaponry...\" He gestured to the quill. \"As thoroughly as possible, sir.\"" }, { "author": "The Guardian", "message": "Dragoon looked down at his leige with, well... A blank expression. The dark abyss that seemed to swallow the light when it tried to cut through the slits in the helmet was the closest thing he had to a face, it made stuff pretty awkward and in some cases made some people look crazy talking to a perfectly still suit of armor. It was true before this life he was a Royal Knight of Alynthi serving them strongly and made a good name before himself before he fell in battle ending that era of his life, now he serves as an Animated Armour. He did try and find his old records of his life but those records have been outweighed by his many years as an Animated Armour, if he was honest he himself could hardly remember what he was like back then, or even what he looked like. It was so many years ago, his memory is slowly starting to fade. Quite sad really.\n\nAh yes the orc, a very gruesome encounter for him. It was unfortunate on the way that had to be dealt with but otherwise he posed a risk to Alynthi's lands, though it was not the worst experience Dragoon has had with those barbarians. Anyways, time to get this meeting done so he can go back to his duties. He pulled out a few pieces of well kept paper from a pouch on his belt and laid it out neatly on the table, the AA then grabbed the quill very softly so as to not break it and then began to slowly write everything he was asked.\n\nA few seconds go by and Dragoon puts the quill back and pushes the paper towards the king. This list goes as follows:\n\n'Orc features: \n\nWell built but smaller than most orcs seemed to be more agile and speed focused\n\nOlive Green Skin with brown eyes. Long plaited hair that reached his hips. Wore a lot of garments and tribal jewelry.\n\nHis weapons were more Hunter like than a soldier. He wielded two bows, with many arrows, some daggers and a short sword. And his tactics were not ones I've seen in conventional warfare, they were more guerrilla like using trees and nature to do his dirty work.'\n\nAt the bottom of the page he did write this as well. 'He did put up an okay fight though when I did engage in swordplay with him. But ultimately he is no longer, I apologize for my brashness though. Maybe I should've taken him in for your interrogation and probably would have learnt more." }, { "author": "Astalios, Iron King", "message": "He waited patiently as the armor took the paper and quill, reading the letters as they were written on the page through the second sight afforded by his magic - thankfully, iron gall ink was all that Astalios stocked in his study. It made reading and writing easier to complete quickly. Before the page was pushed back to him, he mulled over the description. It didn't fit with any specific orcish tribe he knew of, though there was little doubt with the tribal jewelry and plaited hair that he was from Dazvaz. \n\nFew in the other kingdoms were inclined towards such primitive adornments - even in Gantrick, the next most aesthetically similar due to the abundance of furs, the style was long cloaks and the aforementioned animal furs as trim or liner to keep warm. He supposed it might have been different in the warmer Alynthi climate - there was little need for such liners. It was probably necessary to glean a bit more information from him about exactly what Kind* Of garments he meant.\n\n\"An orc that fought like a ranger might, or else someone used to combat in woods.\" He mused, rubbing a gauntlet across his chin as he contemplated the consequences of the encounter. His own sighting of an orc in the Greenheart had come months before, within the scope of his encounters with the House of Elk and Roesia.* \"One would have been an oddity. Two is less of a coincidence.\"\n\n\"It would have been best to capture him, sir. Information is the best weapon in any arsenal.\" He agreed, letting out a sigh of disappointment. His eyes found the dark slits of the helmet, then, and with an examining glance they narrowed. \"Still, as long as I have your word that you were attacked without provocation, it was your right to defend yourself.\"\n\n\"If you would jog your memory for a moment, sir, you mentioned that he was covered in tribal garments. Do you have any of the symbols he carried? Do you remember what exactly his garments looked like? Can you describe them, or has it been too long?" }, { "author": "The Guardian", "message": "As he listened to his King with open 'ears' he was hanging onto every word almost as if he was listening to a story it seemed to bring back memories for Dragoon, odd. Very odd. Though as he stands there he got some slight flashbacks and snippets of his path when he mentioned rangers and attacked. All giving him some short clip of his life when he was organic shall we say. It's been so long he can't even remember his parents names nor if he had a wife or kids, though his body is not prone to injury and such. His soul very much is susceptible to old age giving him a hard time with his memory.\n\nThe 260 year old then began to write again and seemed to have a lot of concentration in his movements like it wasn't second nature, almost as if he was reteaching himself as he did it. 'I apologize your majesty but all these ways of fighting I forget about them sometimes. Though In my experience these seem like a test of your forces, seeing how we deal with these unorthodox ways of fighting. When I lead men many moons ago we would be hit by archers but only a couple to see how we deal with a force smaller than our own. It looks as if they might be trying to learn our moves and tactics for when a bigger force arrives. But I may just be speculating and it could just be a coincidence.' He finished that page and immediately began writing the next one and picked up the pace with this one almost like he didn't wanna keep Astalios waiting.\n\nAfter a few moments the second page was written as follows. 'I will try and arrest them first next time, a learning note. That reminds me when I was serving your father he said the same thing and he utilized scouts and spies as his strongest weapons, then that let me and my men bring glory to the right places.'\n\nIf it wasn't clear already Dragoon is quite the talkative type.\n\n'I do apologize your Grace but my memory is not as sharp as it once was as I am no longer a spring chicken. Though my body does not age my mind or whatever I have now seems to still possess that living weakness. If I do remember though I will let you know straight away. Do you have a next plan of attack? Any way I can be useful?'" }, { "author": "Astalios, Iron King", "message": "It was possible, he thought to himself, but there was very little to suggest a spy or scout would prefer attacking a knight over anything else. Information only ever made it back to Dazvaz - if this was indeed a scouting mission - when the scout returned. That was the priority of such reconnaisance forces - to deliver their reconnaisance. In any case, if they were gone, the possibility that they were catchable now was small. The garrisons in the west knew their posts well, but they could not cover every inch of ground. Beyond notifying them, there was little they could do.\n\n\"I do not believe so, sir.\" He disagreed. \"With respect to your experience and history, the process of testing forces only succeeds if one is able to escape and link up with the main body, therefore informing them of the situation. A scout's priority is survival first and information gathering second. Assets do no good if they are lost or detected - which leads me to believe that the attack must either have been out of desperation or this orc was not a scout at all. Perhaps simply foolish.\"\n\nHe drummed his fingers upon the table for a moment, wondering... Well, perhaps pondering was a better word - pondering why the armor was approaching it immediately from the most aggressive angle. Plan of attack, he said - and 'them' when there was no group yet identified. Like his father had said, scouts and spies were instrumental for the information they could provide - and they were sorely lacking in it now.\n\n\"We are not attacking, sir. We are going to investigate.\" He cautioned the knight, pulling a sheaf of parchment from his desk to begin writing out orders. With the wave of a hand, the ink flowed into the air and formed a thin black spike, which began writing upon the parchment as if it were a pen as Astalios sat back in his chair, letting the magic move the dye.\n\n_ _\n\"You will take four men, two rangers, and an investigator from town - a detective or spy, whichever your preference - and return to the scene where this occurred. My thought is that if this orc was Forced To attack you, it may have been to protect some object of importance. If nothing is found, we shall file the details and keep them for reference, but I wish to leave no stone unturned here. Ensure that the investigator is proficient in detection spells. I expect a report on my desk within a week, detailing your findings.\" Astalios rattled off orders as he had during the Dazvaz campaign, back straight and gaze steady. The tone was comfortable to him, almost as if he were settling back into a soft armchair, though it was a hard voice he used. The ink rapidly unfurled itself into a set of orders, and his signature appeared on the parchment.\n\nCarefully, he rolled it into a scroll, then reached for the golden wax he had been warming. One drop, two drops, three - and into the pool that formed upon the seam of the scroll he pressed his signet ring, leaving behind the seal of the King of Alynthi himself.\n\n\"Dismissed.\" He held out the finished scroll to Dragoon. Every day a new challenge, he thought to himself - but none could be overlooked." } ]	481	3,395
387	1776-07-04	GuildPublicThread	[ { "author": " \| Iara Larimar Alannis.", "message": "Ah, Lake Kanzu. After all this time.\n\nIt felt odd to be back after years of avoiding the place. Or anywhere outside of Tritetheas, really. But lately, she'd felt cooped up. Not that there was anything necessarily wrong with the beautiful underwater city, full of (what she suspected, because she never came close enough to see the intentions in their eyes) were interesting locals with colorful, bright scales and equally bright personalities.\n\nBut she wanted nothing to do with them. She would rather stay home and participate in one of her many hobbies. She thought everything was fine. Until she finally got sick of the constant painting, the joyless tapestry. She needed... New inspiration.\n\nSo she left, and came back to Lake Kanzu. Just for a while, until she got inevitably homesick and returned. Iara's hands felt at the sand, digging in deep. The sand here felt different, but she was familiar with it. She sat waist deep in the water, keeping herself close to the shore, because she knew that if she went any further she would get carried away and not notice any... Approaching people. The mermaid sighed, picking up a smooth rock from the inside of the water. \nShe knew that anything she could get from the lake she could get from Tritetheas. But it still felt nice to leave... Once in a while.\n\nThe only thing that hadn't change was the unpleasant feeling of breathing... Above water. Like her chest tensed. She cleared her throat, readjusting the necklace around her neck. Neptune swam near the end of her tail. She chuckled.\n\n\"..Are you... Content with our change with environment as well?\" \nHe only stopped to look at her for a moment, then continuing his idle loop.\n\"Mm. I am as well. Quite content, actually.\"" }, { "author": "Callen Haldir", "message": "𝐂𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐍 𝐇𝐀𝐋𝐃𝐈𝐑 \| 𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐋𝐄𝐍 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓\n┅┅┅┅┅┅┅┅┅┅┅┅┅┅┅┅┅\n\nSometimes the Kishfire heat was too much, even for him. Callen couldn't remember the last time he'd left the city for his own enjoyment and not for a job. Alynthi wasn't too far. He was able to easily hitch a ride over. How he'd be getting back.. Well, he should probably start preserving his energy for the tedious trudge back to the sandy slums. What better place to do so than a lovely little lakeside? \n\nCallen couldn't swim, neither could his rat. That wasn't exactly much of a concern where he was from. The thief kept making false promises to himself that one day he would learn the art of swimming; it never happened. \n\nThe surface of the water rippled as small rocks skipped across it. The drow watched as his stones sank slowly beneath the water after coming to a stop, before reaching to skip another one. A couple feet away was a piece of driftwood perched just above the water, that a curious little rat was scoping out. The rodent dug its greedy nose into little crevices to try and find nonexistent treasure. \"You fall in and I'm not saving you.\" He said to the animal, who squeaked back in return. \n\nIf only animals knew how to listen to instructions. Callen's attention was drawn back to the driftwood as he heard a rather distressed squeak, and then a little splash. That damn rat. His eyes grew wide in a panic, fumbling over to the waters edge in an attempt to pry the driftwood up and out of the water that the rat had been swept under. By this point, he had noticed the mermaid in the distance, and desperately waved a hand. \"Don't just sit there! Help me!\"" }, { "author": " \| Iara Larimar Alannis.", "message": "The scales on her tail rippled, her eyes darting to the direction of the jarring noise of somebody else... Referring to her. She knew it was impossible that she'd be alone in Lake Kanzu. But it was still just.. Weird. She watched the desperate person by the water's edge, and then she noticed the little animal in the water.\n\n..She's never seen one of those before...\nAh! She snapped out of her trance. No time to dwell on land species. It's drowning. If there's one thing she's not, it's cruel towards animals. Iara sighed. She knew this meant she'd have to interact with a stranger in a way...\n\nShe dragged her hands out of the wet sand of the lake floor, letting herself a little deeper into the lake to swim faster. She dipped into the refreshing water of the lake and swam towards the piece of driftwood and the frantic little anymore. Within seconds, she had the squeaking creature in her hands, up to her waist in water to keep it somewhat dry.\n\nShe shuddered at the feeling of it. Why was it... Was it supposed to feel like that?? Nothing underwater had this texture... She knew some animals had fur, but she'd never felt it wet.\n\nIt was certainly unpleasant, especially with how much the animal squirmed in her cold hands. Iara rushed over to the edge of the lake where the other person stood, quickly setting the animal down on dry ground and dipping her hands back in the water.\n\n\"Your... Thing.\"\n\nShe looked at the odd animal, observing it's little... Paws? Hands?\n...Eugh.." }, { "author": "Callen Haldir", "message": "𝐂𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐍 𝐇𝐀𝐋𝐃𝐈𝐑 \| 𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐋𝐄𝐍 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓\n┅┅┅┅┅┅┅┅┅┅┅┅┅┅┅┅┅\n\nReaching further out to try and snag the rodent from the water, the iridescent scales caught his eye as the woman swam over. A wave of relief washed over him as the mermaid scooped his little friend up, Callen beckoning her to hand the rat over. \"Yesyesyes— Give him here!\" Taking the squirming rodent into his hands, the drow furrowed his brows as the rat shook itself off, looking rather comically distressed as its fine hair stood up on its back.\n\nSilent for a moment, Callen brought the rat to his cloaked chest to try and warm it up. He then looked over at the woman from the water, and sat himself down in the sand. \"..Thank you.\" He said, clearing his throat awkwardly. The drow seemed to have a personal connection with the rat. Normally, Callen's sharp and witty demeanor outshined the rest of him, but when it came to his rat? His guard had been let down. \"Sorry about ruining your Meditation thing Or whatever you people do. But— thanks.\" He'd seen mermaids before, but never this up close.\n\nHe just couldn't stop staring at her tail. \"Oh, and - he's not a Thing. This is Ferg. He's a rat. Now how about you tell me your name? Or are you going to make me guess.\" \n\nOnce the rat had dried off enough, the rodent crawled onto Callen's shoulder on the inside of his cloak, simply resting there for the time being." }, { "author": " \| Iara Larimar Alannis.", "message": "Iara gives Callen the same stare she was told was impolite and rude as a child for a little bit, then let her eyes drift away.\n..It's like clockwork, how she goes from curious and invasive in a way to judgemental and condescending.\n\nShe hoisted herself up to sit on the sand near him, flipping her curls and somewhat glaring at him. \"Iara Larimar Alannis.\"\nShe gave him the up and down once over. \"...And you are...?\"\n\nHer blue hues scales rippled once again, tail splashing around in the water ever so slightly, a mannerism that only merfolk would know was nerves. She didn't have to try with the mannerism of her tail. It was rare anyone outside of Tritetheas tried to figure it out. Mermaid tails were much like cat tails, built in with little gestures and mannerisms and shapes that indicated something about their feelings. Iara absentmindly felt at the small patch where scales had gone... Missing.\n\n\"..Rat? Whatever may that be?\" She fiddled with her necklace, Neptune idly swimming around the area of her tail. \"He looks odd.\" She thought back on the distinctive features of the little animal.\n\"I haven't seen quite like it before.\" \n\"And no, you did not interrupt anything.. We People don't meditate in water. We would be meditating all the time.\"\n\nShe rolled her eyes. Landfolk... They really had no clue. But this landfolk... He didn't seem like much of a threat in her eyes. A bit silly, honestly. With his little 'rat' and whatnot." }, { "author": "Callen Haldir", "message": "𝐂𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐍 𝐇𝐀𝐋𝐃𝐈𝐑 \| 𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐋𝐄𝐍 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓\n┅┅┅┅┅┅┅┅┅┅┅┅┅┅┅┅┅\n\nCallen managed to catch onto the mermaid's tone, snickering to himself and shrugging it off. Her name rolled off the tongue. It was pretty, definitely not a name from around here. Looks like these two weren't exactly where they were supposed to be. \"I'm Callen.\"\n\nHis eyes then trailed down to her tail once more, admiring the blue scales. Callen tried to imagine how his own dark skin would look if littered with such scales. He took note of missing patch of scales on her tail, and removed his gaze altogether. When Iara asked about the rat, the drow nearly scoffed before realizing that folks from the water weren't nearly as accustomed to life on land. \"It's.. A little hard to explain. Here, you can touch him.\" Holding the rat out in his bandaged hands and arms for the girl to see, the rodent simply groomed itself with its two front paws and looked up at her. \n\n\"He is pretty odd looking, isn't he?\" Callen smiled, the scar on his cheek tugging up into his smile line. The bandages on his arms had gotten damp from the incident — his skin starting to show through the wet fabric. Normally that would throw him for a loop, but this girl.. He doubts that she'd understand. \n\n\"He may be small and a little ugly, but he's tough. Been everywhere together, him and I.\" He seemed rather proud of his rodent friend." }, { "author": " \| Iara Larimar Alannis.", "message": "She stared down at the little thing, a bit dazzled. Why does it look like that? Her finger twitched, reaching over to feel the top of the rat's head. It was even weirder when it was slightly drier.\n\"I have my own... Animal friend. Though, I must admit, he is not nearly as hair nor as tiny as this one.\" Her hand dipped into the water to pet neptune's smooth head.\n\n\"Oh, my.\" Iara exclaimed, leaning down to get a closer look at the rat. She ends up finally noticing the bandages. \"I appreciate your accessorizing.\" He's right, she doesn't understand. She thinks it's an acessory.\nIara took her finger off the little animal. \"I must ask, why didn't you jump into the water and save him yourself?\" Iara looked back at the clear lake water. \"This lake is tame. No currents or waves, relatively shallow.\" She liked Lake Kanzu. It paled in comparison to the ocean in depth. A break from some of the dark spots underwater near nepsta.\n\n\"It is quite the easy swim.\" The sea-maiden mentioned. Of course it was easy for her. She knew... Landfolk didn't have the aquatic prowess that tritons and merfolk and sirens had, but she'd seen them swim decently before." }, { "author": "Callen Haldir", "message": "𝐂𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐍 𝐇𝐀𝐋𝐃𝐈𝐑 \| 𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐋𝐄𝐍 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓\n┅┅┅┅┅┅┅┅┅┅┅┅┅┅┅┅┅\n\nThe rat sat still as the girl touched the top of its head. When Iara mentioned her own animal companion, Callen curiously peered his head over the water, observing the animal with a confused expression. \"Is it a shark? I would've thought them to be.. Bigger.\" He would've reached in to try and pet the lemon shark, but..\n\nHis Accessories Weren't exactly built for the water. Back in Kishfire, he didn't have to worry about that. Callen awkwardly lowered his arms into his lap, keeping the rat sat comfortably in his palms. \"Oh- well,\" The drow paused like he didn't want to explain himself. \n\nAfter a moment, he drew in a quiet breath. \"...I don't know how to swim. I never learned. It doesn't come naturally to me like it does to you. I'd rather not both of us drown from trying to save the other.\" He gestured to his rat, who was now brushing its little paws through its fur. Callen's expression seemed duller. He often wishes what life would be like outside of his day to day activities. Maybe if he had actually learned to swim, he could travel across the oceans to the unknown. \n\n\"Where I come from, you don't exactly need to worry about swimming anywhere. It's dry, hot. No water in sight for miles.\" It isn't like landfolk Couldn't Swim. Callen simply never learned how, as embarrassing as it may seem." } ]	397	3,096
669.461538	1776-07-04	GuildPublicThread	[ { "author": "Astalios, Iron King", "message": "Some days, a ruler could focus his energies on one topic, making sure progress was being made and the machinations of bureaucracy had not slowed down what needed to be delivered on time. Such had been the case with the delivery of scholars to Gantrick Castle, the gathering of those scholars from the duchies of Alynthi, and the gathering from within the duchies themselves. The duchy of Willowdale had been quite responsive in sending a good deal of high quality resources.\n\nWhen such energies were focused, however, the toll was often paid in recognition - thanks and rewards given to those who had done their rightful service to the crown, an appearance or a check-in, a favor or audience granted to those who needed it most. There was little Astalios liked about the process of this recognition - to him the pace felt slow and grinding, the dinners too long, the talk too insubstantial - but it had to be done for the sake of the kingdom. \n\nCohesion, he reminded himself, was much easier when the nobles under you did not feel they had been slighted by the crown. To avoid such slights, grease the gears of cooperation, and ensure they were working properly together, one had to pay such respects to the lords of the realm. Those visits provided many opportunities to improve one's rulership by observation of what one had to work with. Flatterers showed their true colors, and stalwart men shared the year's troubles.\n\nOne such place that required his attention was the town of Dalery, his birthplace. Early in the war, its lord had been known as a hero, his family flourished, and he had been raising two sons near Astalios's own age, if a few years younger. Now, the manor he had retreated to was known as Lost Hall, his wife and sons dead, his associate lords whispering about what he was doing in the manor he now held in solitude.\n\n_ _\nConcern did not begin to scrape the surface of what Astalios felt before his arrival - it was a necessity to ensure a lord did not neglect his holdings. The people deserved a just man who governed well and consistently, and did not shirk his duties. When he arrived in Dalery itself, he was surprised to find it thriving despite the lord's apparent solitude, and on the brief ride to the manor, the question of the man within intrugued him. With neglect, the town would have found only ruin. Why, then, did he cloister himself in his chambers?\n\nThrough the gates of the manor he walked, honor guard trailing him, as he forged his way towards the dinner hall. Vaulted ceilings, very little light, windows half-shuttered. There was a chill in the air that he quickly dispelled by grasping hold of the magic within and warming his armor. Yet there was little dust on the miniscule candelabras, and the floors were well-taken care of. Though empty, it was clean. \n\nThe footfalls of steel sabatons made their way to the doors of the banquet hall, where Lord Breckenridge awaited, and Astalios bid his guard wait outside. Within, he could feel the distinctive touch of copper - a circlet, hovering above a copper wedding band, a gold signet ring around a plain steel chain, and a brass belt buckle. He took a moment to inhale, and with a wave of his hand, disengaged the lock and pushed the doors aside as he strode into the room. \n\n\"Lord Breckenridge.\" He inclined his head politely to his host. \"Well met.\" Astalios himself wore the crown of Alynthi, a wreath of beaten gold in the shape of stag's antlers, alongside his usual steel armor, etched with golden detailing. On his face was composure and stern propriety as he gave the man a once-over, wondering what he could gather on first glance..." }, { "author": "Lord Berick Breckenridge", "message": "With time, Berick had grown little fondness in his heart for formalities. It had a curve of interest throughout his life. As a young knight, he hated them with a passion, always itching to be back on the field of battle, spilling blood and cracking skulls. As a lord, he had grown to enjoy them and their wonderful meals, great acts of paegantry, and socialization. Now, as the man he had grown to become, he found little use for them. Still, he understood the purpose of this visit, and thus reserved to accept it's arrival with a calm dilligence.\n\nWhile he was sure the other lords of both Willowdale and Dalery were fawning over any such chance to kiss the king's ring, Berick himself remained somewhat excited for Astalios' arrival. He had not seen the king in almost two decades. Two decades which were filled with mountains of grief and sorrow, loss after loss. He was sure the king would be sympathetic for his own losses, as he was incredibly sorrowful over the loss of the King's father. He had known the king well, and always found himself humbled to serve under him. For a time, there truly was no greater pleasure than to raise a sword in the name of Alynthi, and by extension, Dilitrios. He looked back on those days of service fondly, though in recent times, he found no point in nostalgia. It seemed only to cause pain, a pleasure he deemed unfit for anyone else. A pleasure he sought to carry on his back, and his back alone. The sisyphian nature of his struggle was not lost on him, though rarely did he ever think of himself as some sort of martyr. Never, in fact, did he look at himself in a positive light.\n\nHours beforehand, Berick had sent a young stableboy by the name of Loren into town with orders to fetch five loaves of bread from the local baker. A month prior, the baker had been supplied the finest grains and yeasts money could buy, with Berick tasking the man to create four loaves of bread meant to represent four regions of the world. One, spicy and dry, was baked with fire flour from Khisfire. Another seemed to crunch with a crystalline glow as if infected with the snows of gantrick. The other two were less interesting. The first was a seafood infused bread meant to represent the Atlantean nation of Tritetheas, while the other was created from a mixture of wild ferns and herbs, spiced with homegrown fruits and roots to replicate the Crasmere forest of Findara. The creative concepts were the baker's and the baker's alone. The fifth loaf was simply donated to Loren's family, alongside a fresh caught turkey.\n\nUnder Berick's orders, Dalery Town feasted tonight. The local pub was befit with cheer and food that rivaled the meal prepared for the king. A lord was only as wealthy as his own people were happy. Berick was grateful the metaphor didn't cut both ways.\n\nLord Breckenridge watched softly as Astalios entered, calmed as the King's entrance to the hall itself was known to him minutes beforehand. Almost instantly, Berick stood from his seat, his face refusing to reflect the pain in his legs that erupted the moment his body forced itself into movement. Walking before Astalios, he slowly bent down on one knee, bowing his head in respect. \"My King,\" He spoke with a soft, hushed tone, slowly standing to meet the King's gaze. \"It is an honor.\" He smiled what little smile he could, understanding his figure to be somewhat unbecoming. A faded brown robe, a copper band, and barely kempt hair. He did not give off the impression of a lord, but he spoke and acted with a remarkable grace, and a sense of gentle strength.\n\n\"You've grown considerably since we last met.\" He noted. \"The man who stands before me is a man who befits a crown.\" He thought of the boy's father before him, and remembered how similarly they looked. He spoke a final time, his voice a low and gruff howl, carrying the strength of a starving wolf crying for help with it's last breath. \"How may I be of service, sire?\"" }, { "author": "Astalios, Iron King", "message": "The room was dim still, though it did not smell of mildew. The only stench he could detect was that of some distant loneliness. The table was too large by half for a setting for two, and the dining room seemed cavernous in the absence of sound. When Lord Breckenridge stoon, even in the dimness, Astalios knew that more was wrong with the man than the wounds he had suffered in the war. Those had been minor, not debilitating. Many men would have worn those scars as badges of honor.\n\nThere was a sickness to the way he moved, almost. The arm, missing at the elbow. Crooked fingers, some of which were gone. His eyes were white as cataracts. More misfortune had befallen this man, simply by the way he looked, than he could have imagined from the reports. His hair was unkempt, his smile was faint, and somewhere there was an inkling in Astalios's mind that his knees must have been creaking. Yet he showed no pain, spoke only as he chose. It was unexpected in many ways.\n\n\"...My lord, forgive me for saying so, but it is not I who have changed the most since our last meeting.\" His brows furrowed in concern as he skirted the table swiftly to lean down and grasp the man under the arm gently, bringing him back up to his feet. Up close, he scrutinized the white eyes. Did they see, or were they blind? With familiars, one could mitigate the effects of blindness - but that changed very little about the fact that one was in the dark.\n\n\"You may first do me a service by sitting, and we shall have ample time to discuss what has happened in the time since.\" Gently, he sat the man down in his chair, attempting to help him as best he could before taking a seat not opposite him where the place setting had been made, but at his right hand, where he could best converse. It was not proper for a lord to sit at the head of a table while his king sat at his side - in feasts or public events, the king took the place of honor and the lord the seat closest, but this was a private affair.\n\n_ _\nLaying a gauntleted hand on the table, Astalios took a moment to collect himself. There was little to suggest the man was uncaring, or did not do his duty - the city's condition was proof enough of that, and the tax records every year - but even with the tragedies occuring, a lord ought to have a public face. With the way the man looked, it was quite possible for him to have given up not on his holdings, but himself. Hygiene was one of the first practices to go when a man lost his will to live. Many soldiers, after battles, could never seem to put themselves together again.\n\nYet this was far after the war, when the man had retired in happiness. Was it the same source? It couldn't have been.\n\n\"...Your eyes.\" He began his line of questioning with the first straightforward mystery that came to his head. \"Are you entirely blind? Cataracts?\"" }, { "author": "Lord Berick Breckenridge", "message": "\"I am no cripple, your grace.\"\n\nBerick stood on his own, calmly and respectfully refusing Astalios' assistance. It took every bone in his body not to erupt in anger or sadness. A great wave of sorrow washed over him as he moved to sit down, his face still the stoic stone slab it had been for years. There was no greater disgrace than this, he thought. My own king thinks of me as one who cannot even stand on his own. A cripple. A lame, disgusting cripple. His mind shouted with raucous violence, DO NOT TOUCH ME, I CAN STAND! I CAN STAND ON MY OWN! I CAN STAND! Quietly, he sat, shifting his attention back towards Astalios.\n\n\"Pardon me, my lord.\" He spoke softly, a pleasant honey trickling from his throat, carried by a soothing voice. \"I am grateful for your empathy, however I am not lame.\" He cleared his throat, stretching his hand out towards the table. He pushed a wooden platter carrying two loaves, the Findaran and Gantrick flavors, towards Astalios, motioning for him to eat. \"What an awful host I am,\" He chuckled. \"You've come all this way and I have yet to offer you a meal. Eat, my lord. I've asked the local butcher to prepare two pheasants for us. He has produced three.\"\n\nBerick smiled softly at the mention of his eyes, returning Astalios' gaze with his own. His face soon was bereft of joy, and had resorted to a far more serious expression. With his king in the room, he hardly wished for the topic of conversation to remain centered on him or his injuries. He thought for a few moments, carefully choosing his words before finally presenting them forth, his speech like that of a graceful elk marching through the wood, careful yet bearing the weight of a massive beast. \n\n\"Fortunately I have maintained half of my sight.\" He raised a finger to his right eye, resting his fingernail on a scar implanted on his cheekbone. \"A fever took my sight in this eye years ago. I see perfectly fine out of the other one. The apothecary claims my white irises are the result of lunar magic, but they haven't had any adverse affects as far as I can tell.\" He lowered his hand at the sound of doors opening. Across the hall, a lone waiter came bearing two platters, each befit with two of the finest roasted pheasants Dalery Town had ever seen.\n\n\"Many thanks, Goros.\" Berick nodded to the man, who nodded in turn. In a moment, a small pouch of gold coins were exchanged. \"Give Ygritte my best.\" The waiter nodded, thanked his lord, bowed to the king, and then quickly made his exit, leaving the two men in silence once again. \"Now, on the matter of the scholars.\" He cleared his throat, reaching forward for two plates. An ordinary wooden plate for himself, and an ornate brass plate for Astalios. \"I trust they made it to Gantrick on time? Brendan should have arrived months ago, however Tirol has a penchant for being fashionably late. Still, they are blisteringly intelligent. I fear my library grows lonely without their company.\" \n\nGazing towards Astalios, Berick issued him a calm nod, speaking only in serious, hushed tones. \"News is slow to reach Dalery, but from what the birds have told me, matters seem to be in slight disarray. You, however, have met them with resilience. I owe you that compliment, and assure you it is not simple flattery.\" He silently slipped a small cut of pheasant into his mouth, swallowing painfully before coating his mouth in cool water and returning to speech. \"Now, I've diverted a percentage of tax collections towards a fund meant to support the Kingdom. It is not a large amount, but it is exactly what this town is capable of pledging, and moreso willing to pledge. I've also a number of young guardsmen volunteering to become squires for any knight in search of one. They're good lads. We've 10 horses as well, to donate to the cavalry free of charge.\" Berick chose to leave out the fact the tax fund was mostly his own money. The glory was not his." }, { "author": "Astalios, Iron King", "message": "\"I mean only to treat you with the respect you are due, my lord.\" He could understand the sentiment well - while he had not meant to insult the man, there was a way to take his actions as insulting. There was no use in backing off, of course, but some explanation was owed, at least. \"You have served my father faithfully for many years, and served me for some few. Rest is well earned, and I would not demand your pain unnecessarily.\"\n\nHis eyes fell to the loaves of bread as the lord pushed them forward with what few fingers he had left. One seemed to be embedded with herbs, and the other perhaps salted heavily - it looked crystalline. Bread and salt, he had read in some book, was a gesture of hospitality. To be offered both at once might be some tongue-in-cheek humor. These were clearly specially made for the occasion, as there was too much detail in the presentation for them to be routine.\n\nWith the matter of the man's injuries hopefully set aside for the moment, he let the gauntlets over his fingers flow back into his bracers, the metal folding neatly away to allow him to break bread with his own hands. He took the herbed loaf first, wary that the second would be inordinately salty, and tore the bread into two pieces, setting one back over to the lord of the house before biting in. It was well seasoned, well baked, and just warm enough to remind him of times spent stealing down to the kitchen of Varilon Keep.\n\nWhat was more important, by his reckoning, was that as the waiter approached, Berick knew him by name, as well as the cook and the two scholars sent from Dalery as part of the gathering in Gantrick. Detached from the community, he might not have known the names of the men he had picked and sent, nor remembered them. He further seemed to have a personal connection to them, knowing the tendencies of each. It spoke well of him, though the mystery was soon becoming why his reputation remained harsh in the wake of such attentions.\n\n_ _\n\"Tirol seems to have been hurried along in due time.\" He replied with a small smile. \"The call was met quite neatly by each duchy. I had the pleasure of interviewing a few of the gathered candidates, and with each I could have spent hours in discussion. I am well pleased by the service of those who sent them, and by the efforts of each duchy.\" Truth be told, they could not have performed their tasks more admirably, though there was an inkling in his mind that when the world might be about to end, one did not exactly tiptoe slowly.\n\n\"We do what we can, my lord. Times have been troubling.\" The understatement of the century, he thought to himself, but there was little he could do about the crisis except to attempt to assuage the problems caused by the matter. His knife entered his hand as if called by an invisible string, and he began to deftly cut into the pheasant as he puzzled out how to exactly deal with the offers made. 'Tax fund', he called it, but the taxes were nationally assigned, paid directly to the crown, and taken annually, and it was likely that this tax was simply additional funds mustered up.\n\n\"If there comes a time that requires additional funding, I would be most grateful, my lord, but the coffers are full enough that the money might be better spent elsewhere.\" He began. \"As for your guardsmen, I shall send a small retinue by to test them as prospective squires. Even if they are not chosen, should they wish to join the crown's volunteers, they might do so. The horses you may also keep. I have no intention of taking the fat from every place I visit. A king should be more gracious than a swarm of locusts.\"\n\nPerhaps it was harsh language, but there were affairs to set in motion, and he preferred to be direct and blunt about his intentions where he could. There might have been a day when the guardsmen were needed, but the levy had not yet been called, and though the crown's forces were stirring, there was little to do with them.\n\n_ _\n\"...You say it was lunar magic, my lord?\" He asked, curious how that might have come to pass. \"What sort of spell has the apothecary thought it might be - and have you asked for a second physician or mage to inspect the damage?\"" }, { "author": "Lord Berick Breckenridge", "message": "\"I meant no disrespect, my lord.\" Berick returned Astalios' grace with a kindness of his own, trying to make up for his disrespect. Or, at least, potential disrespect. \"You are very kind, your grace, but I am not in need of any assistance. Rest may be earned, but my position as a lord grants me more rest than I deserve. If service to my king is simply standing and sitting, then I assure you my liege I will stand better than anyone.\"\n\nBerick watched as Astalios commanded the iron around him, a small smile creeping across his face at the sight. Magic had always bewildered him, even despite the grace given to him by he who shall not be named. To see a man in such control of the elements was worthy of awe. Quietly, Berick slipped a piece of bread into his mouth, followed by another small slice of pheasant and a gulp of water. Clearing his throat, his voice rumbled from his throat like a great storm brewing off into the sea.\n\n\"Tirol is a good man. He was Brendan's apprentice for nigh on twelve seasons, until he was forced to return to his homestead upon receiving news of his mother's sickness. She recovered in due time, and he continued his studies. I am told he is one of the brightest prospects in decades.\" Berick had become rather proud of his scholars in the past few decades. Losing his family had driven him into the library, where he first gleaned a respect for the intellectual side of life. Tirol and Brendan had been products of Elias Dalery's administration, but they tended to credit Lord Breckenridge with their most recent successes.\n\n\"You do far more than that, my liege.\" Berick nodded towards Astalios, a soft chuckle escaping his lips. \"You must understand the peculiarity of this discussion, my king. I remember fondly the day I first met your father. The visage of a little lord in fancy armor still swims in my mind. It's both interesting and worthy of awe to see a king in front of me. Especially a worthy king. You have met this crisis with dignity and strength. Your father is most certainly proud of you, as your countrymen are most definitely grateful for your service.\" \n\nUpon Astalios' vivid use of imagery, Berick let out a soft laugh. A soft laugh that turned into a heart chuckle, that soon evolved into a belly laugh. It was a surprising moment for Berick, as he was sure he hadn't genuinely laughed in almost three years. \"Your ideals benefit a crown, my liege. You may trim as much fat here as you would like. I assure you, I work hard enough to ensure that the grace of my seat translates into grace for my people.\"\n\nBerick shook his head at the mention of magic, smirking greatly. \"The apothecary, Minos, is rather forgetful. He is in the eve of his 88th year, and has had great difficulty in remembering the finer details. His apprentice, Katarina, has ultimately taken his place, but I have yet to see her. Frankly, I find little use for a diagnosis. I can see just fine, regardless of whether or not I am a victim of 'lunar magic.'\" Berick had avoided physicians for years, for whatever they could find, he already knew. There was no escaping his affliction. It was his burden to bear, and his alone." }, { "author": "Astalios, Iron King", "message": "\"I would hesitate to equate rulership with rest, my lord.\" He shook his head, a morbid chuckle exiting his mouth. He had precious little time to himself since taking the crown, and rest seemed anathema to the role he had been forced to assume since his father's passing. \"It seems a sorry sentence for a man of great deeds - that he has earned such trust and we reward him with sleepless nights and endless mouths to feed. Still, there are precious few men one can trust, and therefore we must burden them with it.\"\n\nThe pheasant was delicious, and he paused for a moment to savor the bite, listening closely to what Lord Breckenridge had to say. He was still extolling the virtues of his scholars - the personal connection had been clear and present earlier, but further confirmed by his knowledge of the men's histories. He took a few bites of the bread, washing it down with small drafts of wine as he tore through his food. Once the host had taken a bite, the man ate as if he was on campaign and just as ravenous. Meals were quick, though manners were minded.\n\nHe wished he could have spent more time with the candidates, but many of them had blurred together in his recollection - there were hundreds to review, and there was little time to get them to Gantrick. The interviews had been short, perhaps five minutes at most. He made a mental note to talk to this Tirol when he made his visit to Carnifex Keep, and see if the man was as good as his lord's word. If he was half as good, Astalios would be pleased - young minds sent to the alchemical association tended to flourish as good grain did with proper tending.\n\nWhen Lord Breckenridge offered the niceties to say that he was handling the conflict with dignity and strength, he took a moment to examine the man's face. There was little hint of guile there as Astalios searched with mud-brown eyes over the curve of the mouth or the angle of the brow. No jest. Perhaps it was simply flattery, but it was unsettling in some way.\n\n_ _\n\"I was but a boy then.\" He replied, mouth drawn into a tight line. Before the voice in his head, before the red delights of the battlefield and the hard journey home. Had he truly changed for the better over those years, or had he given in to baser desires for blood too often? He knew his father - but whether he would be proud would not be decided until his own reign was long over. \"It felt as if his reign would last until the final age. I thank you for your words, Lord Breckenridge, but there is much to do yet before I might truly accept such praise. My own is just begun, and worthiness is best decided in the long term.\"\n\nThe laugh that erupted from him in response to the jest of the swarm of locusts was a bit surprising given the mood, but a smile found its way to his face as well after a moment. It was hard to discern whether one was being laughed at or laughed with at times, but grace was more often the higher path. Better to let a guilty man walk free than to imprison an innocent.\n\n\"As I said, my lord, I need none from you for the moment.\" He concluded. \"You shall know my wishes should I have need of what you offer. It is nonetheless appreciated.\" No need to linger upon that for longer than was needed - his word was law, and the matter was settled. To act as if that was the case was to make it so, and so there were other topics to discuss.\n\n\"Send Katarina to the capital with a letter of introduction.\" He decided after a moment, considering that the town would need an adept healer in the future. \"If she has any magical ability, she shall train with the Mage Hands as well as the Alchemical Association - and for the moment, I shall see if any churches would not be opposed to expansion in the area. Most healing can do as well as apothecaries or better if Minos is declining as you say. A set of fresh eyes are needed, and hers will be exceptionally clear upon her return.\"" }, { "author": "Lord Berick Breckenridge", "message": "With a reverance demanded of him by his position as a lord, Berick's one good hand raised his rough goblet into the air, a silent roust of jubilation erupting from his finger tips as he looked on towards Astalios. \"To your reign, iron king.\" He took as dainty of a sip as he could muster, chuckling softly as he lowered his cup. He had gotten quite tired. He felt this had been the most he had spoken in years. Years went by quite quickly in silence. All there is to do is reminisce. Berick had enough fond memories to keep him sane, yet he never could outrun his nightmares. No, they followed close behind, pouncing on him whenever they had the chance. Decidedly so, this was not a night of fear. He looked into Astalios' eyes, the mud brown ovals that stared back into his decaying carapace, and he saw a king. A worth king at that. He remembered then something his father had told him as a child. 'Look, boy.' He spoke, glancing towards the king's caravan in the city square. 'Good kings are rare.'\n\n\"A great king...\" Berick muttered softly, feeling his words erupt from his throat as he spoke louder now. \"I'll send Katarina right away. She is of humble origin. I suspect it's her first time leaving Dalery. She'll be delighted. And I trust you understand my position, I do not bestow upon you gifts. The squires and horses I offer are not simple acts of appeasement nor flattery. No, my denizens want nothing more than to leave the shadow of Lost Hall. Frankly, I cannot blame them.\" He paused for a moment, a warm smile fluttering to his lips, scratching past his beard and wrinkling his chin. \"You and I were once young lads from Dalery Town. I suspect you know how strong the call is to leave. The urge of adventure. It drove me from home. It drove me to many things...\" His smile disappeared in an instant. \"Regardless, my boys would much prefer a trip to the capitol than a night here.\"\n\nHe paused once again, chuckling as he spoke. \"Frankly, I wouldn't mind a trip either.\"" }, { "author": "Astalios, Iron King", "message": "\"To your health, my lord.\" In reply to the toast afforded him, he raised his glass to the man across from him. There was little one could do in such times but to return the respect received. Esteem was a gift seldom given and carefully made - once lost, it could seldom be returned, and it could never be taken. His father's words, though somewhat jumbled in his mind.\n\nHe drank once of his glass and set it back upon the table again as they moved on to matters of business. The young woman seemed to have potential - or at least, she had made that impression on Lord Breckenridge. With any luck, she might grow into a capable healer, if the world made it so far down the line that her education would come to its end. It was yet another small reminder that the world was made of smaller pieces, each one valuable in its own right.\n\n\"I understand perfectly, my lord.\" He nodded carefully, choosing his words to fit. \"And these gifts are appreciated in their own time.\" What they would not be, however, was accepted. The squires would be taken by knights if they so chose, but he was hesitant to take more men to war that would follow through with that decision in their own time. It was not a pleasant experience.\n\n\"Once, I did understand that call.\" He forced his tone to become a little more understanding, his face not to frown so heavily. He could not force the man to agree with him. He made a few good points. \"To travel and adventure is a desire that everyone must experience - and the journey often makes us better men in the end. Yet I often wonder whether these boys would still see the road as a place of wonder knowing what they will often find in the end. Perhaps that too is necessary for them to know. No man can understand without first having experienced it.\"\n\nThe end of his first grand adventure had been a war that consumed half his life, the life of his uncle, the lives of many friends, and perhaps his very mind. Adventure indeed." }, { "author": "Lord Berick Breckenridge", "message": "\"You speak the truth my liege.\"\n\nBerick grew hushed and quiet. Silently, his mind spoke. 'I killed my first man a day after leaving Dalery. A bandit ambushed me and the knight I was squiring for in our sleep. He almost slit our throats before my sword pierced his belly. I had expected to cut him down like a man. Like a hero. But he fell over. He was choking. And crying. He was younger than me. A boy of 14. Fair haired and emaciated. He hadn't eaten in weeks. And he was laid out on the ground, trying to stop the blood gushing from his stomach. He was crying. I looked into his eyes and he was scared. He was terrified.' In that moment, the boy's face was seemingly interchangeable with the young men of Dalery. A torrid lot, with want for adventure and glory. Would they too cry? Would Berick watch from his study as mothers fell to their knees, sobbing for their little boy who would never be coming home? \n\n\"The road offered no solace to me.\" He nodded carefully, leaning back up against his chair. He aimed to at least have the posture of a noble. \"Yet I often miss it. I miss the days spent in the sun, the sores from my shoddy boots and the same crik I'd get in my shoulder. I miss it. I've been meaning to leave the hall for almost two summers now. I just haven't been able to bring myself to do so.\" He pictured a journey out of here, looking back on his younger and more formidable years. Once more he felt the decaying feeling, the sweet sadness that came with being a shell. A husk of a once great man. \"I'd like to see the castle once more. It's been a lifetime. I miss the court intrigue. The fancy language, the tournaments, the noble's daughters fawning over the brave young nights with altogether less sense than your average mole. I trust it has become far more tense as of late, however.\"\n\n\"Tell me, my lord, have you taken a bride yet?\" He asked, once more a smile finding its way to his lips. Once more he supped his wine, looking back to the king. \"I am no braggart, but women were practically fighting over me back in the day. Back when I was the blade. I trust you've met with a number of suitable partners, perhaps a future queen among them?\"" }, { "author": "Astalios, Iron King", "message": "Perhaps his words were not wise, but they struck true all the same. Like a snake shifting its coils, something stirred within his chest, and for a half a moment, he found himself wishing for the days when his muscles ached and the sun shone on banners flying high. Blood gushing from green bodies as splinters of metal shredded them to pieces. The crunch of bones under the head of the warhammer. The delight of it all, the visceral feeling of victory. \n\nNo matter how his head came to hate war, his heart was split. The sorrows of loss, the joy of battle. Never since his return had he found another placer he felt he truly belonged. Never since his return had he seen men die in such quantities. He gritted his teeth against the feeling, pushed it down once more. There was no pleasure in death. There was only regret. Only regret. He had to repeat it.\n\n\"You are welcome in Varilon Keep any time you wish to visit, my lord.\" He granted, though there was little about courtly intrigue he could fathom Berick would wish to engage in. Lies and matchmaking and foolish people at foolish parties were at times irritating to suffer through, though perhaps they were saved by the presence of former comrades in arms. The nobility had done their duty against Dazvaz, and many of them could speak with him well.\n\nIt was with women his troubles began.\n\n\"If I had taken a bride, my lord, you would have been present for the ceremony.\" He sighed, shrugging his shoulders. \"Alas, such a national celebration has yet to take place. There are suitable partners in many places, my lord - Duchesses' daughters and the like - but to take a wife is a decision that will not be for the short term. I must look forward to two centuries of faithfulness and love to the woman and our children, whoever she may be, and to choose unwisely shall turn those two centuries to loveless duty only - or worse, another enemy to count amongst the many I already must deal with.\"" }, { "author": "Lord Berick Breckenridge", "message": "\"I'll leave soon, then. I'll take Katarina to the capitol and make my way to the keep. Tomorrow.\" He gazed around his chamber, laughing softly to himself. \"For once I'll be rid of these damn, drafty halls. Ever am I grateful for my keep, but she is a cold and cruel mistress sometimes.\" He turned back to Astalios, nodding intently as he responded. \"Wise words beyond your years, m'lord, and words I suspect are not entirely your own.\" He chuckled, seemingly growing closer to the king at his right hand. \"Your father spoke of your mother the same way. For years I thought their love to be impossible to replicate. You should have seen them at their peak, GODS did it make me want to claw my eyes out!\" For the first time in months, Berick guffawed. \"They were inseparable! She was an extension of him, and he to her. It was often insufferable. Many a time do I recall asking your father to join me for a hunt, just for him to tell me he was taking your mother on a walk through the gardens that eve. Gods, they were so young then. That was love.\"\n\n\"Myself, I was a fool before I met my Mary.\" He sighed softly, placing a hand on Astalios' shoulder. It was strange, he hadn't even thought to do so. It seemed almost automatic. It simply just felt right. \"I thought of myself, a fool with good standing and a sword, as some object to beheld. Why settle with one woman when I had three riding my coattails? Who wouldn't want to spend the evening with Berick the Blade? And then, like a star from the heavens crashed down upon earth and into my life, she appeared in court one day. The daughter of some lesser noble. She was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen. Her hair as fair as gold and her eyes glared like piercing emeralds. And I remember, when I had approached with all my gusto and bravado, she said but one thing to me.\"\n\nHe smiled wide, leaning back in his seat to reminisce. \"I looked at her with the widest, most dashing smile I had, and all she said was, 'You absolutely reek.' Gods, she truly had no equal. A beauty like no other. The kind of woman they used to fight great wars over.\" He shook his head, glancing towards his king. \"My point is, you'll find your Mary, m'lord. Sooner rather than later. Fate is funny that way.\" His smile once again quickly faded. \"Fate is funny...\"" }, { "author": "Astalios, Iron King", "message": "\"I shall have a small reception prepared, if you would state the time of your arrival to one of my men.\" The occasion was simple enough to arrange, and there were doubtless listeners within the castle who would carry out the preparations well enough given a word of direction. An escort of soldiers at the very least could be brought within an hour, let alone a day. Changing into parade dress took no more than a quarter of an hour if they were well drilled.\n\nLord Breckenridge seemed to be in full agreement of his sentiment, as had his sister been. However, there was yet the looming shadow of his duty in the background. His father and mother were lucky to have found each other, and there were women like the man's Mary for each and every person within. That was a truth he had to believe. Yet not every man met his match, and their cases were few and far between. \n\nHe was no lord. There were daughters of lesser nobles everywhere, and women that could bear children to continue the line of succession. Was that not the duty he was held to? Was not the welfare of his sibjects to come before his own? Any wife he took would be consigned to a marriage with a man not in full control of his faculties, and yet one in need of heirs. In such a trying time as the present, the need for them was greater.\n\nWhen his hand was placed on Astalios's shoulder, however, he reached a hand upwards to gently take it off. The lord was excited, to be sure, and looked upon him favorably - but they were not father and son, and would never be. He was the man's monarch. There had to be some level of decorum, though the sentiment was appreciated.\n\n\"Such a love I have always hoped for, my lord.\" He began quietly. \"Yet we must not let our duties be forgotten in the name of love. It may be one day soon that I ring wedding bells for a sensible choice. With what has happened lately, I may have very few other options. I cannot allow the country to suffer for my folly should I hold out for too long.\"" } ]	655	8,703
361.2	1776-07-04	GuildPublicThread	[ { "author": "Shuuto Onibi", "message": "Shuuto watched as the sun began to lower itself in the sky... A sight to behold as ever in these parts. However, he had no such plans to watch the sun fall and the stars appear - Shuuto had a job to do, and Katsu was on his side. \"Sun's getting low. We should find some intel before the farmers turn in for the night.\" Shuuto found that he enjoyed working with Katsu. Most would dismiss Hinode as a loud-mouthed jackass who cared more about personal glory than his comrades. However, Shuuto was just as selfish and he hated himself for it.\n\nShuuto grabbed his belongings from the ground around him, packing them neatly into his satchel. With a bit of effort, he tightened his toolbelt around his waist and unsheathed his rapier. He examined the blade closely... It would suffice. Sheathing it once more, he turned to where Katsu was. \"You have any idea for what we are up against?\" Katsu was smart, a tactical perfectionist. Even if it pissed the guy off, asking his thoughts would prove to be of benefit.\n\nHe wasn't showing it, but he was excited. This was his first mission without his Father's eyes on him... Which only meant his work here needed to be perfect, not a single second should be wasted if he was to avoid the Old Man's ire and critique. Shuuto looked to the sky one last time, as the red around the setting sun intensified... He hated that colour, more than anything. Glancing to his partner once more, Shuuto was set and ready to go.\n\n\|\|" }, { "author": "Katsu Hinode", "message": "When Shuuto initially spoke, the Tiger only gave him a grunt of acknowledgement in response. He had been traveling in his full animal form to get some use out of his keen sense of smell, but thus far hadn't picked up anything of note. As the sky shifted to orangey-red hues that would soon fade to purples and deep blues, Katsu transformed into his more familiar humanoid visage and adjusted the cloak on his shoulders. \n\n\"Could be anything. Axe Beak, Chorg, Griffon, Owlbear, Wyvern, Werewolf, maybe some kind of demon. I can't smell anything right now, so asking around is our best bet to get anything right now.\" As he spoke, the barbarian made sure to check his scimitar, his elbow and knee pads, and took a moment to get a feel for his magic before he began walking toward the center of town. \n\nAs he strolled, it looked more like stomping, along the pathways his gaze kept darting from one figure to another as if he was looking for anything suspicious besides their frantic attempts to seal things up for the night. Whatever was terrorizing the town, it was strong hungry enough to kill and eat several kills in a month. To Katsu, that just meant whatever it was would be more fun to fight. So long as they could find the damn thing considering how elusive it seemed based on the job listing." }, { "author": "generalvan", "message": "The pair strode into Girian proper. Their long journey seeming to come to its conclusion as they were greeted with the sight of the village. A long stretch of road cut through it, continuing on further down in to the wildlands of the kingdom. As though this village itself was simply a resting place that became larger than it was expected to. You would be hard pressed to find a building with more than a single floor, even more to find one without a hole in the roof freshly patched with old wood and nails.\n\nThe only thing that was worth note would be the sight of the fields of wheat. The dwindling sunlight illuminating the golden sea which covered most of the land surrounding the town. Stalks stretching up to the sky and ready for harvest. The farms who till the lands with calloused hands and sweat dripping from their brow were absent as the sun went down. Their bounty unclaimed as fear grips the village of what happens when the sun goes down.\n\nThe hunters would not be at fault if they suspected the village itself to be abandoned. The streets were empty with the only sounds of life from inside the homes were the sounds of scrapping furniture and and hushed whispers as hastily made barricades were constructed. \n\nWalking the streets were a few members of the village watch. The first they would see would be the one watching the north where the hunters arrived from. An old gambeson around his torso and a rusted spear in his hand. A keen eye would be able to see the bindings along the top of the shaft hinting at a crude binding being the only thing keeping the weapon together. His eyes were fixed on the outskirts as he only gave the pair a quick nod as the stepped past him.\n\nThree more members of the watch could be seen at the village square. All as poorly equipped as the man at the front. A grim look on their faces indicating that they knew full well how dire their situation was. How helpless they were that whatever terrorized their home was something they were woefully unable to stop.\n\nYet the doomed protectors of the village were not the only ones who braved the dark. At the center of this village was a shrine. A small and humble thing. With it a statue depicting two people. A humanoid knelt before the other. An arm outstretched in a pled for aid. The other a satyr woman. Her features much more defined as a gentle smile could be seen carved on her face. Her hands placed on the top and bottom of the other. As though in an effort to comfort them. This satyr would be the goddess Aena. The mother of the satyrs and goddess of healing and harvest as well as patron goddess of this village. Though, it was clear this shrine was quite old. Aside from several offerings placed before it from desperate villagers, it was covered in moss along the cracked stone now weathered with age.\n\nBefore this shrine was an older woman knelt in prayer. She was dressed in dark green robes that stretched all the way past her knees. A symbol along the back depicting a pair of hands reaching out to a sun. The symbol of the goddess herself.\n\nThe pair would arrive as she brought this prayer to its conclusion. The woman turning to face the both of them as she let her hood fall to her shoulders. Though her eyes seemed tired, weathered from recent events she had a gentle smile.\n\n\"Welcome to Girian, young men. Have you come seeking the blessing of the faun mother in these trying times?\"" }, { "author": "Shuuto Onibi", "message": "\"Greetings milady. Blessings would be of use to us. We are Journeymen Onibi and Hinode from the Adventurer's Guild.\" The Knight placed a hand to his chest in greeting to the Elder. He tried his best to formulate a small smile. He had read somewhere that a Symbol of Peace should always save with a smile. Yet to the Onibi Heir, he was lacking that motivation for now. \"We heard your Village is in dire need of heroes. You have some form of beast haunting this place and we intend to capture or slay it, well... We will do our best to.\"\n\nThe Shifter's dry humour may have been lost on the woman before them, so he tried his best to give a small chuckle. His eyes drifted for a moment to the sea of gold in the lingering twilight. Shuuto thought it a pity; these Farmers have a bountiful harvest, ripe for the taking. Yet fear and despair has gripped their hearts. They would rather sacrifice their livelihood to the carnage of this beast than risk their lives for the sake of a harvest. It was a wise, yet unfortunate display of humanity - cowering in fear of one beast. The skeptic within him wondered if this creature was even worth the hassle, but looking at the damaged buildings and barricaded windows... He soon discarded that thought.\n\n\"We seek information to help you and your Settlement in whatever ways we can. Anything, even a rumour or a foggy glance at the foe ahead would do us a world of good in preparation.\" That much was true. So far Katsu and Shuuto had no clue what they were up against. The Barbarian's tactical mind was usually accurate and never steered them wrong, but even the prideful Tiger at his side would surely see the benefit in prying some clues for their initial investigation.\n\n\"Has anyone seen the creature haunting the town? Maybe it left tracks or claw marks, something to give us a clue to its location and habits gives us a vital edge moving forward. Anything to add Katsu?\"\n\n\"Why do I regret giving him a window to speak?\" Shuuto questioned.\n\n \|\| <" }, { "author": "generalvan", "message": "So uh... Been near a month. We still interested in this?" } ]	344	1,806
661.2	1776-07-04	GuildPublicThread	[ { "author": "Niles Haran", "message": "It was not often, Niles thought to himself, that he had a delivery with such a thorough change in scenery. As he strode down the gravel path through the Greenheart west of Girian, he wondered how long it had been since he'd been truly out in the woods. Perhaps it had been that strange woman that had gone on about how alone she was when he'd made his delivery - the half-fairy, if he recalled right. Strange. He shook his head to clear it.\n\nIt was better to take in the smells, sights, and sounds while he had the opportunity. Most days, he was traveling down a cobblestone path amongst the clamor of wagon wheels, merchants hawking their wares, bartering customers, and farmers taking their harvest to market. The quiet of the forest was a welcome change. Worn leather boots carried him further under the great canopy of oak and maple. The Greenheart was still alive with sounds, but they were gentle on the ear.\n\nA bird sang in the trees. The reminder struck Niles quickly that he was never quite alone - each bird call could be the note of an enemy spy, hiding as a bird for the moment before unveiling themselves to slip a dagger between his ribs or a spell over his senses. He'd hidden often enough as a gecko that it was prudent to assume others did the same.\n\nAt the moment, however, his disguise was intact. Ethan Pedron, a Findaran courier with golden blonde hair, a gray peddler's cloak, a brown leather bag, dull green tunic, beige work trousers, and a smile, was out on a mail delivery. He was no spy - and how could he be? He was simply out enjoying his work, delivering a letter in the area and enjoying the sunshine.\n\nAt the back of his mind, he wondered if he should really charge more than he did for out of town deliveries. The walk into the forest was nice, but he could have been getting a good deal more work done per day if he'd been charging for, say, four regular deliveries instead of these urgents. Still, people liked customer service, and it kept the customer base.\n\n_ _\nWhen he emerged from the forest and strode his way into town, Niles kept his eyes open and his mind sharp, though the letter he was delivering was only a trifling matter in the grand scheme of things. An order of a gold ring, with specifications included in the body for its construction. The gravel soon became cobblestone, and the empty path became a busy street as Niles searched for the jeweler in question, merging with a crowd of passerby as he went. The oaken walking stick tapped its way across the stones as he forged onward..." }, { "author": "Thorn Reynders", "message": "It was a careful dance that Thorn maneuvered. To work the illusion of doe-eyed innocence yet suppress the devious grin that threatened to split across her features, to speak softly and cluelessly yet have each word meticulously selected from within, and to display a harmless lack of coordination yet to possess the reflexes of a predatory feline. The thief knew all too well that one misstep in this delicate dance would crumble the facade of the character she had become. Though, this thief also knew that should her skills of deceit falter then there was always a mind-swaying spell that could bring everything back on track. Failure wasn't an option, not when one was as perfectly talented at thievery as Thorn Reynders; at least, that is what her inflated ego enjoyed to sing high praises about... Nonetheless, today's dance of thieves would hopefully not require the usage of Enchantment. Not with a target as simple as this one. She had spotted the blonde-headed courier enter town and tailed him, her gaze eagerly set upon what treasures he could have concealed within his person. Any moment that the thief sensed the courier's attention drift into her attention, she would swiftly conceal herself within the nooks and crannies of the town's expanse; shifting into the alleyways and leaving nothing but air behind her, as if she had never existed in plain view in the first place. When Thorn became satisfied with the observation stage of her thievery, she set forth into the action phase.\n\nTime to rob this foolish courier blind... \n\n;🦨⟡\"\n\nThorn discreetly slipped in the alleyways once more, and dashed her way deeper into the town, aiming to intercept the courier at a crossroads ahead. Once a fair amount of distance was created between the thief and her target, she blended herself in with a small crowd of village folk. Fortunately with her outfit decisions, she truly blended in with them too; her frame outfitted in a standard village woman dress, slightly dirtied to give the illusion as if she had been working the day away. As if on cue, the courier had merged with the group of villages and village-woman-Thorn. Her bright yellow-orange gaze feigned innocent elation as she glanced into the sky, pulling a soft smile upon her lips as she stopped to watch a flock of colorful birds soar over the rooftops. Her timing perfectly set her directly in front of the courier and allowed little room for him to duck out of the way. Simultaneously, Thorn clashed into the chest of the courier and flailed her limbs in a seemingly haphazardly manner which provided for two carefully plotted actions; the first being an attempt to kick the man's walking stick away and the second being her hands flying towards his hips to steady herself. Though, one hand would try and sneak into the pocket opposite of where she attempted to kick the walking stick. What or if she pulled anything out successfully, that was up to fate... Though if the thief proved victorious, whatever object she had nabbed would swiftly be stored into the deep pockets of her dress; the motion looked as if she went to steady herself on the man's hips and then moved back to wipe her hands down the apron of her dress.\n\n;🦨⟡\"\n\n\"Oh my, my, my! I am so dearly sorry!\" Thorn wailed, her deep Gantrick accent suddenly completely absent in favor of a shrill Alynthi woman's voice, \"Are you okay? Oh dear, your cane! Allow me...\" She scrambled to grab his walking stick and handed it back to the courier, \"I am so Terribly Sorry. It has certainly been a lengthy day and I suppose my mind has flown away,\" A chuckle rolled from her lips, \"But, don't let me take away any more of your time. I'll just be on my way and you on yours...\"" }, { "author": "Niles Haran", "message": "It wasn't every day that he had the experience of being robbed.\n\nNiles enjoyed travel a good deal, and with travel came the possibility of being accosted on the side of the road by those who wished to take the contents of your coin purse for their personal gain. Usually, these came in the form of large groups of scraggly men who were forced into a life of crime for one reason or another - perhaps they had always been neighborhood bullies, perhaps the harvest was particularly bad that year. Highwaymen were a mixed bag in that regard.\n\nThieves, on the other hand, came in many shapes and sizes. One did not have to pose a threat of physical violence to steal, where robbery needed the application of force to be a present illusion, if not a real possibility. Niles himself had been taught the hallmarks of a thief a hundred times and a hundred times again. Inconspicuous garb. Moving with the crowd, not toward any specific destination except for a mark. Then, a distraction of some kind to keep the mark occupied while his or her pocket was thoroughly cleaned. Light fingers. Children and women were often employed.\n\nAs it happened, Niles knew them all too well not to suspect what was about to occur when the woman in front of him stopped so abuptly in the to look at a flight of birds. The collision of their bodies was almost textbook - and the action of steadying herself on his hips was absolutely perfect form to snatch his purse from off his belt. Thieves, he knew, needed quick access in and out of pockets to leave with valuables safely. That meant his mail bag, fastened inconveniently for a quick swipe, was safe. His purse was not.\n\nHe had to admire the work, in some way. She was obviously quite competent at her job, and she had managed to pick a mark that would be forced to keep quiet about what she was doing, albeit unknowingly. It was interesting enough to play along with for the moment. He let out a groan of pain as he brought himself back up to his full height.\n\n_ _\n\"No, no, it's...\" He waved it off, a small smile flashing its way across his face as he assumed the part of the friendly courier once more. \"I'm sorry to knock into you. Now, where is my... Ah.\" He accepted the walking stick from her with a gracious smile, wondering what she had taken. After all, while he knew the routine, her touch was as light as they came, and he was not omniscient.\n\n\"I appreciate it. Long as I've got my mail and my purse, I'll be all right to continue.\" He patted himself down briefly, confirming that the drawstring pouch with most of his coinage was still there. \"Should be all right, I haven't dropped anything.\"\n\nWhat she had taken, he realized, was the contents of his pocket - the extra change he kept in case his purse was stolen. Five silver pieces. Usually enough to cover fare home, a new set of clothes, and a meal. He found himself impressed. \"You all right, miss...?\" He enquired. \"Usually when someone's that distracted they've got something on their mind.\"" }, { "author": "Thorn Reynders", "message": "You didn't drop anything but, you sure lost something... Thorn mused within her head; internally relishing in the successful and effortless pickpocket. Though as her bright orange-yellow eyes scanned the courier's frame as he patted himself down, she realized What a shame... Shame indeed, that he had that mailbag locked up tight. It was a hidden treasure trove of mysteries and whether or not it withheld any shiny objects, Thorn still delighted in the thought of perusing through people's private mail; perhaps she would reply to a few letters with obscene words or, drop a piece of mail or two upon the wrong doorsteps. The urge was tempting. To prolong this encounter, to string along this puppy-eyed courier and see how much more plunder she might deprive from him. However... Nah. He is almost too easy. What fun is that? So, the thief would conclude to leave this man in dust with a few coins short. \n\n;🦨⟡\"\n\n\"Elizabeth, my name is Elizabeth. But, my friends just call me Beth,\" Thorn offered a warm smile that would befit someone of a pure, moral stature, \"And what's not on my mind? If not a day of working at the farm, it's daydreaming that one day I'll get to travel and see...\" She trailed off then burst into an embarrassed laughter, a sheepish look overcoming her features completely, \"Oh, I am sorry. You probably have lots to do and lots of people waiting on you,\" Her eyes flickered to his mailbag then she bowed in an apologetic manner, \"Again, I am terribly sorry. I'll be out of your hair now. Have the most lovely of lovely days!\" With that, Thorn skipped past the courier and offered a wave goodbye; not providing the man an opportunity to respond and carry on the conversation. After all, her business with him had been completed and the longer she remained around, the more risk she placed herself in. She didn't need him to abruptly realize that he had misplaced some worthless pocket change at the exact moment that she clashed into him. A sigh vibrated through Thorn's chest as she fingered the coins in her dress pocket that she had snatched from him. Pocket change. While the reward of pickpocketing the courier certainly wasn't as satisfying, the thrill of it at least momentarily settled her appetite for danger. She didn't always steal necessarily for the prize but, simply because she could and not a soul could do a Damn Thing about it.* \n\n\n;🦨⟡\"\n\nWhen a safe distance away from the courier, Thorn ducked into an alleyway that would eventually lead her to the outskirts of Girian; where the mouth of the forest stood and beckoned her inside for an afternoon nap. Without so much as a glance backward, the thief waltzed into the woods. Once in the cover of the canopies and thickets, her hands moved to her dress skirt and in a single pull, she tugged it off to reveal a pair of brown leather pants beneath. She held up the dress skirt and shook out the coins from the pockets into her greedy hands, then stuffed the silver pieces into a leather pouch upon her belt; promptly buttoning it up afterward. Thorn proceeded deeper into the forest, her eyes carefully scanning for a perfect spot to cozy up and relax for the remainder of the afternoon; she figured that by the time she awoke, the evening would be setting in and the Real Big spenders would start to prowl about in the town. For now, the streets were evidently filled with Boring And Poor People. As the Beastwalker searched for her ideal nap location, she didn't think much of her surroundings. After all, if someone had tailed her or intended to sneak up on her, she would have Already Discovered them. Thorn thought herself perfect at just about everything, and that included being omniscient of her environment..." }, { "author": "Niles Haran", "message": "Oh, she was laying it on thick. Have the Loveliest* Of lovely days! Daydreaming That she'd one day get to travel and see... The contents of his coin purse, most like. Doe-eyed farm girl it was. Elizabeth. If she was smart - which he suspected she was - there was no chance that was her real name. He himself was using a pseudonym for his work. The way she repeated her name was more proof of that.\n\n\"Oh, no harm done, miss Elizabeth.\" He flashed a friendly grin back, appraising the thief that had tried to take his gold and succeeded. Two-tone hair, black and white. Almost as if... A fellow beastwalker, perhaps. There was something to it indeed. Certainly, she was distinctive - and stress brought gray hairs, but not like those. No roots showed any black growing back in under the white hairs.\n\n\"Have a lovely day yourself!\" He called as she skipped - Skipped - away past him to try and get out of sight. Skipping! He nearly broke his facade right there and then out of sheer fury. Oh, look at me, he thought. I'm an airheaded farm girl who just happened to bhump into you, mister. I would never steal the coin right out of your pocket. I don't know what stealing is!\n\nHe itched to tail her, to be drawn into the sort of competition that would lead him back to the game and all the intricacies within, but that ran its own risks. Detection, namely. He had let himself be stolen from for a good reason - his cover was once again reinforced by the fact that he had let himself be robbed. Sure, he was a good courier, delivering his messages in a secure bag, but his purse and pockets were for the public to take. \n\nThat, he decided, was one of the most infuriating things about being a spy. His walking stick tapped almost angrily upon the cobblestones as he forced himself to go the other way, smiling but furious that he had been taken advantage of. The next time he saw that 'Elizabeth', she was going to have a rather long and dry conversation about taxes...*" } ]	669	3,306
404.6	1776-07-04	GuildPublicThread	[ { "author": "Niles Haran", "message": "It was not often, Niles thought to himself, that he had a delivery with such a thorough change in scenery. As he strode down the gravel path through the Greenheart west of Girian, he wondered how long it had been since he'd been truly out in the woods. Perhaps it had been that strange woman that had gone on about how alone she was when he'd made his delivery - the half-fairy, if he recalled right. Strange. He shook his head to clear it.\n\nIt was better to take in the smells, sights, and sounds while he had the opportunity. Most days, he was traveling down a cobblestone path amongst the clamor of wagon wheels, merchants hawking their wares, bartering customers, and farmers taking their harvest to market. The quiet of the forest was a welcome change. Worn leather boots carried him further under the great canopy of oak and maple. The Greenheart was still alive with sounds, but they were gentle on the ear.\n\nA bird sang in the trees. The reminder struck Niles quickly that he was never quite alone - each bird call could be the note of an enemy spy, hiding as a bird for the moment before unveiling themselves to slip a dagger between his ribs or a spell over his senses. He'd hidden often enough as a gecko that it was prudent to assume others did the same.\n\nAt the moment, however, his disguise was intact. Ethan Pedron, a Findaran courier with golden blonde hair, a gray peddler's cloak, a brown leather bag, dull green tunic, beige work trousers, and a smile, was out on a mail delivery. He was no spy - and how could he be? He was simply out enjoying his work, delivering a letter in the area and enjoying the sunshine.\n\nAt the back of his mind, he wondered if he should really charge more than he did for out of town deliveries. The walk into the forest was nice, but he could have been getting a good deal more work done per day if he'd been charging for, say, four regular deliveries instead of these urgents. Still, people liked customer service, and it kept the customer base." }, { "author": " -- lyanna of norheim.", "message": "Resting atop of a tree, with their feet dangling off it. Lyanna's eyes lazily roamed over the green foliage they were surrounded by. From up there, perched and sitting forward, they could see the capital of Alinthi jutting up from the tree line. Lost, Lyanna was, in their own rumination. \n\nIt was a luxury, the Dryad knew, to be able to sit and just Think. Not having to momentarily worry about things like invasions of their peace, of the forests' peace, It was a great reprieve that was laced with Guilt. After all, the group they had grown up with, a time the Dryad constantly revisited in their mind, was always about vigilance. Being ready to fight for others. But also, living and Let Live. \n\nIt was as they were lounging, their feet slowly kicking air, their face upturned to allow sunlight to heat their green skin, that they heard the crunch of gravel and looked down below. The path below was one many took. It was a safe way for travelers to pass through the woods. \n\nA man, blonde hair, carrying a brown leather bag, and dressed appropriately for the trek through the forest. Nothing outwardly called for danger. Nothing to indicate trouble. Still, Lyanna rose to their feet on the branch to watch him pass. Their watchful gaze wary, and tense. Ever since the Leshen incident that plagued the woods for a time, and having to have dealt with that weeks ago, Lyanna had become increasingly cautious with all who entered their home. The forest. \n\nThey began to trail after him, relinquishing their physical form to disperse themself into leaves, as they followed him from high up. A part of them thankful their companion, their gray wolf, Laika, was currently out hunting and wouldn't be around for a while. Had Laika been around, the beast would've given them away. \n_ _" }, { "author": "Niles Haran", "message": "For a moment, he thought he spied a woman out of the corner of his eye through a cluster of leaves - green-skinned, with orange hair. His attention had been drawn by the movement of feet on air, then the branch as she rose to a standing position. He passed under her as if he had never seen her, projecting the facade of the mailman about his job and enjoying a wonderful afternoon on a delivery. \n\nProbably a native dweller of the woods, given the garb she was wearing, but then that was common of most dryads. There were many eyes in the forest, he knew, but dryads had not been one of the immediate thoughts in his head when animals would have gone completely unnoticed. A glance backwards returned nothing, however - the dryad was gone, and there was nothing to give her position away again.\n\nMost Dryads, as far as he knew, tended to stay near the tree they inhabited, but that was no cause to be unconcerned. Like any other race of Lucidien, they had their free will, and could be employed in many ways. Best to be careful. He had no idea where she was at the moment, but that was no reason to suggest that there were not others like her to keep watch.\n\nUnder the folds of the cloak, away from prying eyes, a small green flash of light heralded the arrival of a tiny spider, which crawled up and outside of the gray coat to come to a perch on the back of Niles's shoulder. As Squint took up the customary guard post, the mailman himself began to whistle up a tune. 'The Babbling Brook', it was called, and Niles knew it by heart. With a tongue such as his, it was at times difficult to hit the right notes - but often music made the time pass quicker.\n\nHe adjusted the straps of his brown leather bag, making sure they were secure and comfortable as he walked along. Squint's eyes linked with his own, and suddenly he was viewing his back as well as his front, synchronizing senses with the tiny brown spider hitching a ride..." }, { "author": " -- lyanna of norheim.", "message": "Lyanna solidified into a humanoid being and carefully followed the other. Unaware that he had already had a glimpse of them, the Dryad went on as if undetected. They watched his gait, his carefree mannerism. Curiosity pulled Lyanna ever closer.\n\nThe Dryad's movements were stealth-like enough, their feet padded the ground like leaves against wind, mere Whispers. Their slender figure, built like a dancer, was covered in tightly woven plants, and vines, with colorful flowers blooming in places. Their hair, long and bright orange, swished behind them in a beautiful glossy stream. Flowers of spring; tulips, primrose, and crocus were woven into its tendrils. \n\nThey were unaware that a second pair of eyes— or several— watched them dart from bush to tree, and then Back To bushes once more. Their form becoming a gust of green leaves before solidifying back into their tall—Six foot nine— figure with each trip. It was a comical sight, as they zigzagged after him.\n\nThe song that he whistled was unfamiliar to them. Lyanna lived their life removed from civilization. Living nearly three centuries within the wilds, they were only Just Beginning to learn the ways of \"Outsiders\". People who hailed from beyond Greenheart. However, they did love music of all kinds. Lyanna had come to find that out through passing travelers, Lyanna knew they loved hearing it. It drew them even Closer, as they wanted to hear it better." }, { "author": "Niles Haran", "message": "Niles continued merrily along the path, concentrating not only on carrying the tune, but processing the information he was taking in from two directions. Squint's eyes, one of the reasons he had chosen an ogre-faced spider as his familiar, were sharper than most animals one encountered in the course of their life. Huge compared to the size of the head and pitch black, they observed the reformation of the dryad the first time she chose to catch another glimpse.\n\nThere was very little sound, Niles thought - whether that was a consequence of her connection to nature or her training, it was hard to pick out the footsteps that followed, if not impossible. Squint was his saving grace, as the familiar so often had been on a job. Whether that was in the form of a pair of extra eyes or as cover by serving as a quick snack, the spider was as faithful a friend as he'd ever had. Then again, he supposed that was the point of binding the familiar. Friendship was magical.\n\nHe considered whether the right move was to turn around or to continue - with the amount of time she'd had, if she was malicious, she could have killed him any number of times. He might never have heard it at all, and if not for Squint, very well might have been able to bury an arrow or a club into the back of his head if she had so wanted. There was probably some merit in speaking to her - and if she was malicious after all, there were more than a few concealed daggers on his person.\n\nHe couldn't give away that he'd noticed her, however - and as he continued forward, he let his foot trip over the nearest tree root, sending him sprawling onto the gravel path. Not too hard, of course, but he let out an audible 'oof' as he hit the ground, the whistling immediately cut off by the interruption as he 'tried' in vain to keep himself upright. The question now was what the dryad would do..." } ]	412	2,023
773.384615	1776-07-04	GuildPublicThread	[ { "author": "Dragomira Hemlock", "message": "```The Necromancer cackled as I raised my blade to him in defiance. \n\n\"Foolish Hunter! You stand against a master of the arcane most foul and his hoard of reborn warriors. Once you are slain you will join me in my exit from this crypt as my-\"\n\nMy dagger flew through the air as it struck the prattling fool in the neck. The time he spent droning on was time he spent too full of himself to notice the hand not holding my blade was reaching inside of my coat. As the blood poured out of him as he gasped and clawed at his throat, his undead beside him fell one by one. \n\nIt was as though his own mana burst from his body like an overripe grape ready to burst-```\n\nDragomira paused as she examined her newest sentence she had written. There was something that just felt off the moment she put pen to parchment. She examined it again, her finger gliding underneath each word as she stopped midway. Letting out a scoff, leaning back in her seat and pressing her free hand to her forehead.\n\n\"Gods damnit, I used the same word twice in that sentence.\"\n\nShe grumbled. Grabbing at her brush to wipe away what she had written so she could start anew. As she reached across the table, her hand brushed against one of the many glasses that she had emptied on the table beside her. At least 15 beers in total that was hoping would fuel her creativity barely gave her the slightest buzz to speak of. She wondered if she should call the barkeep again, maybe number 16 would do the trick, before resigning to the fact her Dwarven biology seems to have won this battle today.\n\nDragomira Hemlock, adventurer, monster hunter and acclaimed author, found herself at a table in one of the many taverns in Varilon. This one known as The Grove. Not the Hidden Grove or The Kings Grove or The Smiling Grove or any fancy name you'd expect. Just, The Grove. She assumed it was in reference to the neighboring Greenheart Forest or after the goddess herself. But for now, it was a decent place to drink, pass the time and work\n\nOn her newest novel. \n\nAnd good gods was she struggling.\n\nOut of all the places though, this was certainly the strangest place to be working on something like this. After all, she was a long way from Lazaroth. And there were likely better places to focus on your craft than at a crowded place like this. Well that was because she wasn't here entirely to work on her writing. That was merely a pastime. \n\nFor Dragomira's true purpose of being here is to watch. Observe. Examine the people all around her within the so called \"Capital of the World\". For what none knew when they saw the scar covered Dwarf with her blade as long as herself resting against the table. Dragomira was a trained killer. An assassin in The Sisterhood. The daggers hidden under her coat were for more than tossing at arrogant mages. She was far more nimble than one would expect from a Dwarf with enough strength left to pummel an man into unconsciousness with her fists alone. Beneath all the bodies of monsters and villains she stands upon there are a good few hundred people who were unlucky enough to earn her orders ire. Were any of them innocent? Who's to say. She's simply the weapon her Sisterhood uses to enact its work.\n\nWas that why she was here? In Alynthi? Was she about to add another body to that pile? This time, no.\n\nDragomira was a Sister. But more specifically, a Watcher. She'd been a Sister since she was an infant and had trained to become one her whole life. She was skilled, clever and dangerous. This placed her pretty high up in the order, specifically that of a Watcher. A Sister who specalizes in recruiting new women into the order. To scout out talented killers. Or at least any with the potential of such.\n\nSo here she was, in the tavern of Alythni. Occasionally glancing around for anything interesting before turning her attention back to her writing.\n\nAnd unforetunately, she was so far quite unimpressed." }, { "author": "Aylera Mialar", "message": "The shadows on the street have grown long, dragged through the earth by the sun's lowering. A muddled, thick veil of emotion had befallen Aylera as she wandered the city. Her thoughts felt like pelting rain after her little adventure through the exterior gardens of the Temple of the Gods. No amount of prayer or attempts at meditation could seem to clear her mind. Cool air touched the nape of her neck as a breeze caught in her hair, sending a shiver down her spine and causing gooseskin to appear across her forearms. She couldn't stop thinking of Varis, of her choices, of everything the outside world has shown her and very well could be without her knowledge. The sins of her world, the sins of her own self, seemed glaringly obvious in the remaining daylight. With a sigh, she admitted utter defeat and swung open the door to a nearby tavern.\n\nSuch places were more than just foreign to the wood-elven woman, she had outright avoided them- until now, apparently. Oh, how far she had fallen to wind up here, of all places. It reminded her so deeply of Varis, of her brother left behind, poisoning himself slowly. They had disagreed, yet she found herself sitting in his shoes, entering a place full of the poison he depended on. The paladin's hazel eyes quickly flicked from patron to patron, feeling as if they were glazed over in her haze of incomprehensible feelings. She chose to sit in a more secluded section, strategically placed underneath a window through which she could watch the sunset along the outer edges of the city. With her gear comfortably removed, she sunk into her seat, running her fingers through the mess of windswept braids attached to her head. The soft clamor of adornments glancing off one another was comforting, albeit not quite enough to truly quell the thunderstorm of her mind.\n\nWhat was she doing? How disgraceful, to even consider drinking the same poison that corrupted Varis's mind, the same poison that had nearly taken her to meet her end. Honestly, Aylera felt the confines of her limited scope more than even when she had just left the House. It was madness, she felt utterly mad. There was no sense- at least none logical enough to justify her actions beyond simply 'feeling pulled to it'. However, this was no divine intervention, and Alynthi would have to look away from her sins once more. With a heavy sigh, Aylera sat up straighter as she ordered herself a refreshment. She would repent in the morning, with a new dawn to mark her theoretical regret. To her, it seemed as if nothing else could result in today's actions- even allowing herself to think this way seemed sinful.\n\nPerhaps it was, perhaps it wasn't, Aylera couldn't deal with the philosophy of it all now. She'd had quite her share already. In truth, it wasn't a sin to drink, nor was Alynthi very picky about her devotion so long as her subjects followed the core principles of faith. It was Aylera who had made her own mission one of 'purity'. This was her own doing Instead, she pulled a few strips of leather from their place wrapped around the wood of her covered spear. Her quick hands began to weave them, to try to occupy herself from her own mind in any way conceivable. It was not until then that she allowed her eyes to better peruse the patrons of the tavern. She blinked against the glare of late daylight filtering in from the window, surveying the much darker interior. It was quite... Average, she presumed. Townsfolk and locals scattered here and there, going about their business as usual, travelers and salesmen kicking up their feet after a long day. It was quite busy, a hum of conversation and life hanging in the air, a breathing buzz of electricity in an otherwise desolate place.\n\nIt was then that she noticed a dwarf. They seemed to be more uncommon now, despite what the House had taught her of their strength during her training. Perhaps she was misled, who knows, it seems her education failed her at almost every step when it came to navigating the world outside the woods. Admittedly, it wasn't supposed to support that kind of lifestyle. Either way, this dwarven woman caught her eye. If not for her build, then it was for the empty cups that rested beside her. She knew that dwarves could outdrink almost anyone- but it was still rather shocking to see.\n\nAylera had to force herself to stop staring at the stranger and turn her eyes back to her own matters, there was no use being rude in these places. She'd already be sinful enough, no need to make any potential for conflict along with it. Once she was served, the chestnut-haired elf closed her eyes, praying over her meal to at least somewhat make up for the disparity of her actions." }, { "author": "Dragomira Hemlock", "message": "A key trait among the most skilled daughters of the order aside from their mobility and penchant for murder was their skills at perception. Anyone determined enough to take a dagger and sink it into the back of their unsuspecting target. But if that target was a sister, they would have been sighted, expected and eventually dealt with before they even had the chance to get that close. Suffice to say, Dragomira was no exception to this. Her attention was constantly being drawn to the table, to the room around her, to the table again, before examining the room once more. There wasn't too much of note. Plenty of people seemed to make up the establishment. Mostly traders, craftsmen, a traveler or two. All of them seemed to be enjoying each others company. Dragomira seemed to be the only one who seemed to be sitting alone. \n\nUnfortunately, in terms of potential recruits this place was lacking. To her left she could hear bits and pieces of a conversation between a couple of Tieflings. She could see the bags that they brought in with them. The lighter skin tone beneath their sleave compared to their arms. Travelers from Khisfire, no doubt. Talking about their new life in Alythni. Opening up a bakery. The kind of happy ending you'd hear in a fairy tale. Even if they had the makings of an assassin Dragomira knew she wouldn't be able to convince them. Although given \n\nTo her right she could hear a discussion involving an older half human of some kind. Talking about troubles with her tailor's shop. Just from a glance Dragomira could see the bags under her eyes. The impressions on her hands from long hours on the loom. The occasional prick of a sewing needle against the tip of the finger. An unfortunate circumstance, but it's seldom the ones living happy lives who live the life she does. Though this woman was sadly far too old. She knew she couldn't make an offer to this tailor, but made sure to write down what she heard. After all, she needed work and Dragomira's coat had a te\n\nAr she never got around to patching.\n\nIt wouldn't be long after that observation that the Dwarf glanced at a Wood Elf stepping inside. A quick glance up and back down just so she couldn't be caught staring, but that half second was enough. Tall, at least taller than her, which most people were. Skin a slight tone dark but she could tell that most of that was on account of time in the sun. She was dressed in standard attire, a short sleaved tunic with a color not too eye catching. Though from the angle she was sat at she couldn't see over the table next to her to tell what she wore below the waist. One of the woes that come with being short. At first she expected this to be yet another native of the city. A tradesman of sorts? \n\nBut then she spotted her hair. A deep chestnut color that went down past her shoulders onto her back. Making room for her long, pointed ears which seemed to be covered in decorative earrings, piercings, and whatever else. It was this that caught the Dwarves attention. That detail that most people wouldn't think twice about. \n\nThose braids weren't a standard tie that she'd seen from the people of this city who simply want to get their hair out of their face. They were decorative, intricate. No commoner would spend that much time on their appearance. And no person of wealth would wear the clothes of the common man with the effort they put in. And the earrings. The slits of sunlight that peaked in through the windows shone onto them as they glistened. Another sign that this was likely an uncommon person who just walked through those doors. Couldn't be a noble, none would be caught dead in a place like this. And if they were trying to hide they weren't dumb enough to wear only a quarter of their fineries.\n\nDragomira took another glance up after a few seconds to examine to stranger only to find them staring right back at her. Not maliciously or in surprise. Well... She could see there was a little bit of surprise on the woman's face. She couldn't help but let out a faint chuckle as the prolonged staring made her come to her conclusion. The stranger was checking her out. A bit funny how they were staring each other down but for two different reasons. She'd probably tell Baldwin about this when she got back to Lazaroth. She could tease him about how well she's been doing after they broke up.\n\nThe Stranger might come to the same conclusion as Dragomira looked her up and down, her gaze focusing on the arms. She could see the outlines of muscles, not too different from her own. A laborer? Not likely, what kind could afford those gems? Learned how to braid her hair so ornately? The only other option was a warrior of some sort. The kind who wielded a weapon of some sort to do battle. \n\nA knight? Wouldn't leave their castle for a place like this. A mercenary? They'd be at home in a place like this. If the stare off wasn't enough of a sign, Dragomira could tell she seemed very out of place here. So that begged the question. What kind of warrior who isn't a noble or sellsword would is there who seemed to have value for ceremony and decorating themselves?\n\n\"Paladin.\"\n\nShe whispered under her breath with a wide grin. Her Sister training allowing her to piece together the stranger's nature from the moment they walked in the door. Satisfied, she gave her a sly smile and a wink before returning her focus onto her book. She wondered what a Paladin could be doing in a place like this. After all, she was clearly out of her depth. Like something heavy was on her mind. Maybe she'd approach her. After all, a Paladin must have plenty of interesting tales to tell. Material for her book so she could get over this writers block she's been chipping away at. She doubted she'd be able to convince her to leave her order to become an assassin, so hopefully this could serve as a nice distraction.\n\nBut for now, she continued to write, wait, and subtly watch this woman to see what she would do next." }, { "author": "Aylera Mialar", "message": "The wink sent a wave of shivers up the wood-elf's spine. Aylera wished desperately that it wouldn't show, but her face suddenly felt hot, cheeks burning with... Embarrassment? The dark-haired woman couldn't even make sense of her own heart fluttering from getting so flustered. She was caught, she was *Very* Caught. It took everything in her conscious power to keep from hiding her face or doing some other action that would blatantly give her flusteredness away. The dwarven woman was very interesting to look at, a new face in a new world- and a nice one it was, she had to admit.\n\nIt was as if the stranger had seen straight through her- perhaps they got the wrong impression... Ah. Nothing she could do about it now, was there? It only seemed to make her vendetta of sin worse, more tempting, more disgusting. At this point, she yearned for the release of anything but her sober mind, however terrified she was at the prospect. The whole point of this place was to rest the mind, no? To drink and let one's cares melt into the outside world of nothingness.\n\nThe food, at least, was good. It was the heavy sort of meal that would end up making her sick if she ate it too often- but after a day of worrying away, it seemed more comforting than usual. After a minute of satiating her stomach, her eyes flicked back to the dwarven woman. Her light features contrasted the dark interior, seemingly spotlighted by the last dregs of daylight outside. The stranger looked strong, probably stronger than her if one were to take into account the obvious difference in stature. Accented by her clothes, the obvious warrior of sorts seemed to have more than enough experience in whatever her craft was. Aylera couldn't help but catch a glimpse at her scars left exposed, she seemed to have quite the collection. Biting her bottom lip absentmindedly, she forced her eyes back down to her plate, finger cautiously circling the edge of her drink.\n.\n\nAmber-colored mead shimmered as she lifted the vessel to her lips. To her immediate relief, Aylera only tasted the subtle sweetness of the beverage. The mere thought of accepting the drink, let alone consuming it had almost scared her half to death. She was admittedly quite proud of the fact that she'd consumed any at all, despite the inherent revulsion so deeply ingrained into her. Varis would be proud, and that left her feeling a little better. The gentle fire of the alcohol reaching her stomach reminded her of its sinfulness, yet she took another sip, attempting to take her mind off of it. She should drink slowly- it's not like she had any kind of tolerance. At least now if something happened to make her blush again she had an excuse.\n\nAnd naturally, such things would undoubtedly come again as she found her eyes wandering toward the golden-eyed stranger. Leaning back in her seat after a moment of observation, Aylera pulled her eyes back once more and instead occupied herself by adjusting one of the small charms woven into her hair. She was writing. How interesting of a hobby for someone who was clearly dedicated to the battlefield. Another sip seemed to begin the process of relaxing her spine which felt rigid in its posture. Would this stranger think her woes silly? Most likely, judging by her appearance alone. Her scars and demeanor indicated that she was wise to how the world actually operated, far beyond Aylera's own minuscule scope of knowledge by comparison. Turning to the window, she allowed the last light to wash over her face as she drank. By the time she was done with it, the streams of golden-hued sunset had hidden behind nearby buildings and cast the tavern into its true state, lit by candles and fires alone.\n\nOnce her hands were free of food and drink, the alcohol settled into her senses. It was honestly negligible, and probably wouldn't have been able to make one with any tolerance blink. Yet, she felt the vague buzz of impairment gently pushing against her mind. Finally. Gods, finally. She was free of the burden that was all that she worried. Softly praising the gods for creating this magical substance and saving her from herself, Aylera took a moment before ordering her next toxic potion. Taking her spear and a pocket knife, she began to carve symbols along the wooden length. It had various leather wrappings along it, little decorations the woman had added when she felt as if she had all the time in the world to do so. In the end, it was nothing special. The spear was humble in its origins but worked well, and was made from wood of the Greenheart. Never had she ever needed to, but it comforted Aylera to know that if she did have to defend herself, the action would be blessed by the Mother.\n\nHer carvings were simple, small rune-like images or short proverbs in elvish. It felt good to whittle away in this state. Her lack of meditation due to her racing thoughts wore on her more than she had known. As she worked, her lips moved too. When she was alone in the forest, speaking to one's self was understandable- expected even when there was no one to judge. However here, it took a bit of effort to keep herself at a volume that was no louder than a faint whisper. She could bless these carvings during her ceremony tomorrow- oh yes, it would have to be a ceremony now that she was considering having more to drink. Her carving paused as she looked at her work, running her fingertips over the freshly cut images to clear any extra dust or shavings." }, { "author": "Dragomira Hemlock", "message": "Dragomira wasn't a mage. Unlike the Elves of these lands she wasn't among the blessed to be casting spells and weaving the winds of magic for their own ends. But for a brief moment she understood the satisfaction behind sending a bolt of fire from her hand as she could practically see the impact of her little gesture to the paladin as though she cast a spell upon her. She hid her amusement, turning her attention back to her writing before she continued this little battle of psychological warfare she seemed to have started.\n\nShe skimmed over her words as she tapped the end of her pen against the corner of her mouth. She'd touch up on the part she was stuck on later. The antagonist was just slain. She was sure she got that point across at least.\n\n```I stepped over the decaying husks of the cruel mage who now joined them in death. I had no intention of leaving my dagger in a place like this after it had done such an effective job in shutting that fool up for good. The scent of death was stronger the closer I got, holding my hand over my mouth all the while to keep from gagging. The lengths I was willing to go for such a thing.\n\nFortunately, I didn't need to lean down as I grabbed the blade by the handle and pulled it with a powerful tug. Wiping the blood on my pant leg, I smirked in satisfaction that this wretch wouldn't be able to harm another with his foul magics. Before turning to face-```\n\nAnother pause as she examined the flow of what she was writing. There was something that just didn't sit right with her. But what? Was it the beginning of the chapter? No, she made sure to make her arrival into the tomb interesting enough by solving the cypher which kept it sealed. The fight? Well, it wasn't much of a fight. But that shouldn't detract the satisfaction of it. Everything was written down as it happened when she did this herself. She even added a monologue for him to have to draw further engagement-\n\n\"Okay maybe not 100% factual... But still mostly factual should be good enough. When I wrote about Baldwin I had to make him seem more interesting than a dull stone-\"\n\nHer eyes widened as it finally hit her. The writing was fine, but her story just felt so empty. There was Dragomira herself, who was plenty interesting and made sure to make her readers know that. There were plenty of villains and monsters for her to fight. But aside from a few background characters that get less than a paragraph of attention, that was it. Ever since her and Baldwin went their separate ways it had just been so dreadfully isolating.\n\nThe solution seemed obvious, add a character. She was already willing to stretch the truth a little, why not add someone else to the story to make good banter? To be in awe at Dragomira's deeds? The readers would love that!\n\nBut what? Who? Dragomira didn't want to have to craft a whole person out of thin air. It would kill her authenticity if she told everyone a person who wasn't even real was with her during these events. No, she'd have to base it off of something real. Someone real. But who could she use as inspiration for someone willing to aid her against an awakening necromancer in a dusty old tomb? Who would even be willing to do that.\n\nHer eyes went wide as she near shot up from her seat to see the paladin from before carving symbols into the spear she had carried. \n\nPerfect\n\nThe Dwarf closed her book, tucking it right underneath her arm as she stepped onto the tavern floor. She left her blade right where it lay, confident none would try to steal a weapon so large. Her plan was simple. Talk to the paladin, get to know her and once she learned enough make a character out of her. Simple! Depending on how it went she might even ask for her permission before doing so.\n\nHer movements were smooth and silent as she walked passed the crowd. After being trained in stealth for so long she stopped noticing when she went into \"Stealth mode\" And just kind of defaulted to that. Lurking behind taller folk, tables, pillars and just about everything you can imagine until she was right to the side of the stranger at the blind spot just past the periphery. She raised herself up on her toes as she leaned to the side, trying to get a look at what she was inscribing.\n\n\"Is that your kill count?\"\n\nA macabre question from the assassin as she finally stepped into view, examining the weapon. Her voice was softer than one you'd expect from her. Like a whisper, just audible enough for you to hear but only if you strain your ears to hear amidst all the commotion.\n\n\"Plenty impressive if it is. I try and settle for a tally myself if I had to track it but those little glyphs are nice. Pretty even.\"" }, { "author": "Aylera Mialar", "message": "Surprise seemed to ring in her ears as Aylera looked up to see the dwarven woman before her. As one attuned to the sounds of the forest, anything successful in creeping up on her resulted in a jolt. The drink, unfamiliar surroundings, or perhaps an innate skill of this person, it didn't matter why she was surprised. Her lips parted, and a sound halted before it escaped. It was the whisper that had made her hesitant to react. The voice was... Unexpected, even though she couldn't have assumed it to have belonged to the dwarf. Sparks seemed to ripple up her spine- despite her best efforts not to let it show. The paladin attempted to hide her quickened heartbeat by clearing her throat. Successful or not, she sat up to better address the stranger, taking a moment to even register what was said.\n\n\"No...\", A wry laugh filled the momentary silence, mimicking the stranger's intonation. She sheathed the pocket knife, pocketing it. \"No, they are not. They are blessings, or will be once they have been properly atoned. Thank you, though I should make a note to not be a part of your... Tally\".\n\nAylera's accent shone through as she spoke. As much as she practiced this language, it seems that her education had yet again failed to clear another discrepancy when it came to navigating the world outside the woods. As much as she was aware of it, she cared not to be sensitive toward it, so long as she could communicate at all. That much was a blessing, given the rather clunky nature of the common tongue. It felt clumsy on the tongue, much dissimilar to elvish which seemed to flow like a gentle stream through the heart of the wood. Either way, she didn't mean to be rude, but she couldn't help being startled.\n.\n\nNow that the stranger was much closer in proximity, Aylera took a better look at her face. Those golden eyes seemed to pierce straight through her as if they peered straight into her mind. Their color seemed to flicker as they reflected the dance of light emanating from a nearby fireplace. It was difficult to break the eye contact, but the elf did nonetheless, moving her eyes back to her spear. She laid it down on the table gently, both in respect for the warrior and her indirect mention of bloodshed. It still had its sheath attached, but there was no sense in being clumsy in a matter so much as this. At least her tolerance to alcohol had held enough as to not take her senses completely away from her. Gods, she still hadn't recovered from the initial shock. They really crept up on her- and although she blamed it mostly on sensory distortion, a small part of her felt uneasy.\n\nThat being said, this stranger was, at least, not an unwelcome sight. What was she? A sellsword of sorts? It seemed likely, given every bit of context available. She made a conscious effort to breathe deeply as she offered the spear to the stranger, to better observe the markings. As much as she felt wary, sense also told her that this woman meant no harm. Curiosity was one thing that the elf could not deny, as she too had made a fool of herself earlier simply for the sake of it. She wondered if that foolishness had continued- but chose to push that thought back as she spoke.\n\n\"I can't say it's a very extravagant weapon, but it is blessed and true in the end. You seem to be one who would know of these things.\"\n\nThe scars of the stranger caught Aylera's attention next. They appeared to tell a plentiful number of tales, a varying collection of depth and healing. If she hadn't thought better of it, she'd have asked about them outright. Instead, she motioned to a vacant seat across from her end of the small, circular table.\n\n\"Care to join me?\"\n\nHands now free, she sat back and folded them carefully in her lap. Although her posture remained somewhat rigid, she made a conscious effort to relax herself. Much like her other interactions with others, it took time for her to relax, which would be natural if not for this particular stranger's effect on her. Her unease remained, although she could not classify exactly what the fluttering in her chest had meant. Either way, there was no threat present, and no reason to be on edge, she reasoned with herself." }, { "author": "Dragomira Hemlock", "message": "The assassin felt a twinge of guilt at how startled the paladin seemed to be at her sudden emergence. Of course, getting the drop on her wasn't her intention, but she managed to accomplish it all the same. Seeing someone with their back turned toward her just brought out the cutthroat in her. At the very least she was able to tell that this alarm was a temporary thing. Dragomira knew a fair number of people who would respond to such a surprise with a blade aimed at her neck. All out of reflex as well, of course. \n\n\"Huh...\"\n\nShe muttered in response to the paladin's explanation on the markings in question. One that likely made more sense than putting that much effort to document a life you had taken. Though, Dragomira had been guilty of including characters based off of her marks when she was low on ideas for her writing. An activity that got her quite the dressing down from the Keepers. She had to stay in Lazaroth for a solid month before she was able to start traveling again. A pity, she always found the place terribly boring.\n\nDragomira took a step to the side to get a better look at the weapon in question. She hadn't known much about paladin's aside from the basics. Holy magics, fight evil, ceremony and god worship. The whole deal. But she expected the spear itself to look a bit more... Luxurious? Gouache, even. But to her surprise the spear was simply just that. A spear. Certainly not a bad spear. The wood it was crafted from seemed to be holding well. The tip was sharpened to a fine point. She could imagine the heft a weapon like that might have. She could probably have a go at it if she wanted to. But it certainly didn't scream \"Weapon of a warrior tasked by the gods to slay evil\" Like she expected. It was... Quiet and lethal. Like her.\n\nShe nodded in response to the paladin who seemed to agree with her on that matter. A little chuckle at her saying Dragomira \"Knew a thing or two about such weaponry\". She held up both hands for a moment in mocking surrender as though she had been caught.\n\n\"Heh, you're a real charm. You got me. Blessings are a bit beyond me I'm afraid, but I don't think there's a weapon in this world I haven't had a go with in all 6 decades I've been alive\"\n\nDragomira happily accepted the offer as she pulled out her seat. She placed her book onto the side of the table. A heavy thing well over a few couple hundred pages. The coat that she had let hand over her shoulders would slide off as she let it rest on the back of her chair. Her arms all the way from the fingertips to her shoulders were bare, revealing even more scars of slashes and stabs across her well defined arms. A sign that she wasn't bluffing when she spoke of her weapon experience.\n\nThe Dwarf gave a little hope as she sat down in her chair and pulled up her seat. \n\n\"Dragomira Hemlock. Author, Traveler, and best Monster Hunter on this side of Greenheart.\"\n\nShe began. Resting her elbow on the table and letting her head rest in the palm of her hand.\n\n\"Caught you staring a couple times since you walked in. I'm willing to go out on a limb and guess you're a fan of my work?\"" }, { "author": "Aylera Mialar", "message": "A slight smile touched Aylera's lips as Dragomira spoke, that kind of dry humor felt few and far between in her past- save for Varis. She appreciated it, though it was probably nothing out of the ordinary for her new acquaintance. If anything, she felt more vindicated in a few of the squabbles over proper conduct she had gotten into with her tutors over 30 years ago. It was a breath of fresh air. Her education had formed her into what felt like a statue of emotional availability. Frozen in the perfect position, carefully shaped by her entire education. Only Varis had seen her speak with any bite in her tone, and thank the gods too, for she knew the consequences for an 'outburst'. Truthfully, she had taken too much comfort in her stiffness. With that realization, combined with the other woman's demeanor, the elf allowed herself to break her posture, crossing her legs at the knee.\n\nA book? Yet another surprise, it seemed. Its thickness reflected the apparent strength of the owner. What a curious object for a warrior of this sort to carry. But, admittedly, it was her bare arms that took Aylera's eyes back. Her assumption was correct, naturally. This was more than she had expected, though. She must be quite strong to be so defined- what was she doing? Luckily for the paladin, she blinked herself out of her daze in a moment, flicking her attention back up to the dwarf as she introduced herself.\n\nIt took incredible amounts of willpower for Aylera not to choke on her own breath as she was caught *Again. Dragomira's assumption comforted her- even if it was wrong. As much as she would have loved to hide herself behind the excuse of being a nervous fan, it couldn't be further from the truth- at least, about being a fan. In an attempt to allow herself freedom of speech, she let out a chuckle before shaking her head gently.\n\n\"While I cannot deny my actions, I must admit it is not for that reason,\" She wasn't quite able to make eye contact as she admitted it.* \"I'm afraid you just caught my eye, Ms. Hemlock. Quite the name for quite the face, no?\".\n\nHer foot bounced slightly as she caught the attention of the barkeep, signaling for a drink. Afterward, she worked up the nerve to return her gaze to the warrior. So she had been right about this woman's line of work, though not the entirety of it. An author, how fascinating. She'd admittedly not read much outside her home- and she didn't read much then either. Aylera much preferred the entertainment of the outside world, but Varis had managed to get her to read every now and then. Perhaps now she had some studying to do.\n\nFeigning a proper curtsey, she spoke again,\"Aylera Mialar. One may say I am a traveler as well. I serve the great Mother Alynthi, and previously the House of Elk\". Loosely crossing her arms, her position was officially distasteful to her educators, how freeing. \"Care for a drink?\"" }, { "author": "Dragomira Hemlock", "message": "Dragomira gave a short laugh at the answer that Aylera had given her. She could tell by her wandering eyes that she wasn't lying. Of course, lack of eyes contact is a classic sign of deception. The inflection of her words made it seem like the paladin was obligated to give a straight forward, honest answer but really wasn't willing to look her in the eyes as she admitted to checking her out. She placed her hand on her chest as she gave a mocking gasp.\n\n\"How unbecoming of you, lady paladin. I hadn't expected you to say something so forward\"\n\nShe slyly joked. Snickering to herself before finally leaning back in her chair after she had her fun.\n\n\"I appreciate the honesty but you certainly aren't the first to stare at me from across the room. Certainly won't be the last either. But at least you're trying to be sweet about it. At least, I hope you are. But I like your face too, by the by, especially the way you style your hair with those braids. First thing I noticed when you walked through those doors. Must be a pain to keep that maintained though.\"\n\nDragomira replied while politely dodging the remark about her last name. Not that her new company was being rude. If it came up again she'd give some remark about it. However, despite her willingness to be named after a poison, she's still an assassin. Can't have anyone put two and two together. And besides, she thought her last name was really really cool so what can you do? At the very least, she was willing to tease the paladin a little bit more.\n\n\"Lady Timber, hmm? Never bothered much with the gods myself. The whole distance thing between us really makes me lose interest and I've been just fine without them. Sounds like its working out for you though!\"\n\nShe gave a quick shake of her head as the discussion continued.\n\n\"Thanks but I'll pass. Doubt there's anything in this place that'll give me too much of a buzz and it tastes like rotten grain and mud. Didn't expect one of the goddesses soldiers to be in here of all places. No offense but I expected you to be communing with nature and wrestling bears. This doesn't seem much your scene\"" }, { "author": "Aylera Mialar", "message": "Aylera pursed her lips. Allowing herself to behave in such a manner was quite something- fresh enough to require a bit more liquid courage to attempt to be rid of the remaining unease that had settled deep in her bones. Her cheeks darkened once more at the mention of her appearance, the butterflies in her stomach fluttering yet again. She wondered if the feeling would ever subside with Dragomira around. Either way, she needed to get used to it, it seemed.\n\n\"I see no reason to lie- but I would hate to make myself seem... Too bold\". She absently reached for one of the charms interwoven into her hair at the mention of it. \"Thank you, they do take time, yes. I do enjoy it though, the process allows for meditation. That being said, I believe it's apparent that I have too much time on my hands currently\". \n\nNever bothering with the gods? How entirely foreign to her. She understood the logic behind the dwarf's reasoning, but Aylera still couldn't fathom a life devoid of divinity. That being said, she attempted to bite back her immediate inclination to steer their dialogue into one of faith. Instead, she simply dipped her head in agreement.\n\nShe accepted another drink from the barkeep as they continued their conversation. \"No offense taken. I believe I'm just as surprised as you are\". Taking a sip, Dragomira's description of the liquid filling her cup was about accurate. Aylera had accidentally eaten enough mud and drank enough herbal medicines to taste the resemblance. Still, it did its job, even as the bitter tang of it left her mouth feeling sour. \"It is very much not my scene, no, but I am trying to... Diversify my interests. I intend to leave the forest for a long while, so I figured I'd better get in some experiences in a more convenient location before I thrust myself into entirely new territory entirely unprepared for how the world works\".\n\nAylera had almost forgotten the sheer stamina of Dwarves. It made sense, though. Now- in terms of wrestling bears, the old tradition was deemed passé. After all, with the disagreement between Aylnthi and Dasvaz up north, the old territory of the creatures was infringed upon- much the same as her ancestors.\n\n\"I'll have you know, bear wrestling is no longer a practice- too much unnecessary bloodshed from both parties\" She teased back- although her accent muddled with the intonation of it all. \"And as much as I'd assume hunters and creatives such as yourself would preoccupy yourselves with a drink in your off hours, I must say I'd expect you somewhere more... Tasteful\". She looked about the tavern, its dingy windows creaking with the wind, cobwebs filling corners. It wasn't a bad place, just obviously not one of much renown. With a more relaxed sigh, she took another drink and set the cup on the table, forcing her shoulders down from their rigid position. \"I have spent my formative years in the heart of the wild, I do believe it's time for a change of scenery. I'd expect that you feel similarly, given your many travels\".\n\nEyeing the book, Aylera followed her comment with intrigue, \"You must have countless tales, given your work. I wonder if there is much left in the world that you have yet to experience. Do you ever find yourself bored? Or do you keep yourself occupied to avoid it?\"" }, { "author": "Dragomira Hemlock", "message": "\"Is that right?\"\n\nDragomira questioned. A faint look of surprise on her face being told that bear wrestling was a very real thing. Or at the very least it was at one point. Her mention of it was her trying to be funny. Now she couldn't help imagining Aylera tossing one over her shoulder before slamming it down on the ground with all her force. She didn't seem to have much of a build for it. Maybe that's just one of the gifts her goddess gives her. Was it strength in general though or just a burst of strength specifically when fighting against a bear? The forest was the realm of the Fey, right? They've always been the oddly specific sort.\n\nThe Dwarf would snap her out of this thought before she got too in depth at her companies bear wrestling capabilities. Again leaning her elbow against the table to rest her head in her hand.\n\n\"Guess that's good news for the local wildlife then.\"\n\nShe joked as the discussion continued.\n\n\"Tasteful? I like to think places like these suit hunters. It's like being in the wild, constantly having to keep your senses sharp to spot broken glass on the ground or finding the one table in this place that doesn't look like it's on its literal last legs. Sustaining yourself on stale ale and that little bowl of almonds at the bar.\"\n\nThe hunter mused. Placing her hand over her mouth to keep her from laughing too loud at her own joke. Even then, her voice was quiet enough that such laughter came out as a faint giggle.\n\n\"Kidding, of course. I'm here for... Inspiration, I guess\"\n\nShe answered. At the moment she enjoyed the paladin's company. Aylera seemed to fit the mold of what she expected a paladin to be like. Polite, sociable, just missing the mention of 'heroism and honor' before plunging a blade into some villains throat. Though in this case, Dragomira was well aware that she was one of those villains. She's never had a contract to take the life of one she thought undeserving. After all, if someone paid to have you killed you must have been quite the bastard. But there really isn't a nice way to say \"Oh well I'm not here for the drinks, I'm actually an assassin who's been killing people since I was 10 and am just here to find women down on their luck hoping to make them killers too. Hope we can still be pals\". As far as she was concerned, she was just a monster hunter who dabbled in writing. That was the version of her the world would accept her as.\n\n\"Guess we're both trying our luck at new places. You trying to get out your comfort zone while I'm trying to find a new one. But I've been stuck with the worst case of writers block and there isn't anything cheap ale can do to fix it.\"\n\nThe assassin lamented before noticing Alyera's eyes falling upon her book. A grin lining the corners of her mouth as she leaned in her seat, letting both arms rest upon the table.\n\n\"The worlds a big place, you know. Plenty to keep me from getting bored and this place never stops being interesting. Well... Not the place we're in now, it's painfully dull. But you're right, I've got plenty of stories and I'm sure you do too. How about we ditch this place to find somewhere more... What was that word you use? Tasteful. Somewhere nice where we can tell each other stories till the sun goes down. I'd leave to hear the ins and outs of what being a paladin like yourself is like\"" }, { "author": "Aylera Mialar", "message": "Aylera couldn't help but smile at even the idea of surprise on Dragomira's face. She seemed like the type who wasn't surprised often, and it was amusing to see what was truly unknown to others. The elf nodded, it was good for the wildlife- in fact, she had many thoughts of how creatures in the woods were perceived by those outside, but she'd keep those to herself. This conversation was much too interesting to be dampened by something so boring in comparison.\n\n\"It seems then we share the same thought, albeit in different directions. I see that inspiration in its many forms tends to follow a pattern\".\n\nThe grin of the dwarf did not subside the butterflies in her stomach that had only just been slightly calmed. Her suggestion too did nothing to aid in that. Not that Aylera was opposed- quite the opposite in honesty, this place had quite the distinct scent. But the mention of getting to know the life of a paladin, well- she wasn't sure it would be of much interest. At that moment, she felt as if she'd be quite the bore she'd hoped not to be. Even so, what was she to do? Deny such a request? Never. If anything, perhaps it was a way to enlighten another to the ways of divinity- albeit that she had no intention of converting anyone. Still, she had had just enough of this place, and the offer was more than acceptable.\n\n\"I appreciate the interest in my life- I cannot say that it is all very fantastic, though. I must warn you, a vast majority of it has been spent in preparation for the present. And, well, I haven't gotten very far as of now\".\n\nShe laughed, though it wasn't really very funny as she thought about it. If only Varis were there- that man could've entertained anyone for hours, especially if they were a writer. Perhaps she could speak of him, but the pit that formed in her stomach at the thought of him made her doubt she'd be able to without making the entire interaction much too personal. On that note, she attempted to finish the last of the drink in one go, barely managing to get through it without choking. Aylera covered her mouth as she used her thumb to wipe the excess off the edge of her lips, its bitterness overriding her senses.\n\n\"Now,\" The sour aftertaste seemed to burn a hole in her esophagus for a moment, requiring her to pause. \"Where do you suppose we would find something more 'tasteful'? I can only really say that I am familiar with the Greenheart, I clearly know not where the best places are to have a conversation in this city\". Gesturing to their surroundings as she spoke, her eyes flicked back to the barkeep, whom she promptly paid. \"I've only wandered, and visited the temple, of course\".\n\nWhat stories did she have to tell? She could speak of the House- but if anything got published besmirching the greatness of the society she'd be even more looked down upon than she already was. That is, assuming Dragomira even wanted to publish anything involving her. What an ego-minded thought. Perhaps she could speak of ancestry? Or her interesting interaction with the Doctor back at the temple? Maybe of her dabbles in acrobatic combat- though that would require a demonstration, and with the alcohol in her system, perhaps it would be better not to attempt a back handspring. Aylera just hoped that the drinks would continue to allow her to feel more free. By the Mother, she could use a break from the overwhelming whirl of thoughts that once again invaded her mind.\n\nSilently sending a prayer to the heavens, Aylera readied herself to leave. She picked up her spear once more, swiftly making herself sure that the weapon was sheathed properly to not somehow inadvertently cause safety concerns. Huh, for once, she felt rather safe in the company of a stranger. Was that a blessing or a bad omen? Her instincts felt muddy after the alcohol settled in her stomach. Dragomira seemed only to be a curious writer, as much as her huntress background should concern the elf. Nothing about her seemed to speak ill of her intentions, whatever they may be at their core. At least this alone would make for a good tale to tell later on. Again, she silently recounted a quick devotional- just to be sure." }, { "author": "Dragomira Hemlock", "message": "Dragomira was positively delighted at Aylera accepting her offer. It was a wonderful excuse to step out of this boring tavern and hit the streets of the biggest city in Alythni. The matter of finding new sisters would be a task she was willing to put on hold for right now. It was clear that Alythni proper wasn't the prime hunting ground for Lucidien's newest and deadliest murderesses. The kingdom was prosperous, no great cataclysm or uprising threatening its borders. Even the rise of horrific monsters and roving highwaymen were becoming a thing of the past. Wonderful news for the people who call this place home. But to Dragomira, it just made her feel as though this place was dreadfully boring. Still, at the very least it had its little joys.\n\n\"Oh don't put yourself down like that. I doubt Alythni's going to mind if you talk about yourself like the evil slaying badass of a paladin you are. I'm sure we could make a whole novel about your exploits\"\n\nThe assassin stated as she got up from her seat. Grabbing her coat she had placed onto her chair and tossing it over her shoulders. Letting it rest rather than fitting her arms through the sleeves. Reaching into her pack she pulled out a small handful of coins which she placed onto the table for when the barkeep eventually comes round to clean up after them. There was far more coin there for what Aylera had eaten and drank, but most of it was for the copious amount of drinks that Dragomira had earlier, as well as a little extra for her new companion. She didn't mind, after all she wasn't short on coin thanks to her latest hunt. And if she runs out, that'll simply be extra motivation to find the biggest monster she can find and kill it as quick as she can.\n\nShe turned to the Elf with a gesture for her to follow. \n\n\"I know a spot. Someplace quiet where nobody's going to bother us.\"\n\nThe Dwarf began to explain as she spoke to Aylera with her eyes facing her rather than where she was going. Despite this, she was able to easily step around the collection of patrons standing between them and the exit all the while talking about this spot she was going to take her to.\n\n\"Now it's going to be a bit of a travel. Not anywhere crazy, it's in the city. But I hope you're willing to do some crawling in tight spaces. I think you've got the build for it.\"\n\nThe sun had near completed its descent by the time the two stepped outside the tavern. The streets had begun to clear and lights of all sorts were being lit outside the homes to keep back the arrival of the pitch black. The Dwarf took a deep breath before she took of into a run. Not so much of a sprint, mind you. But certainly not a leisurely stroll. More akin to the excited spot between running and walking you'd commonly see on overenergetic children. Though growing up hasn't seemed to slowed Dragomira down one bit.\n\n\"C'mon! It's right down this way!\"\n\nShe spoke in the same hushed tone. It was odd. A woman like her and she still wasn't willing to raise her voice under any circumstance. It seemed her actions spoke much louder than anything she had to say. This paladin would have to navigate their way through the Alynthi streets if she doesn't want to be left behind." }, { "author": "Aylera Mialar", "message": "Cheeks burning yet again, all Aylera could do was smile slightly as she secured her cloak around her shoulders. The well worn broach holding it in place over her shoulders was engraved the symbol of Alynthi, made of a sturdy steel alloy. She quickly tossed her hair out from under the fabric so it could rest safely against her skin. It was only a matter of moments before they were on the move, just enough time for her ready her own pack. Now it seemed, the real fun would begin.\n\nGods, Dragomira was quick. Normally, Aylera would have kept up without batting an eye, but with the alcohol in her system it seemed a bit more challenging. To combat the slowness of her mind, the elf kept her eyed pinned on the dwarf as they wove their way to the exit. It was impressive, how her new friend was able to navigate around others so easily. She must have quite the experience in crowded places- but there was no time to ponder that further. Aylera's mind was all too busy keeping pace with both movement and the other woman's words. To them, she simply gave her a diffinitave nod, following her outside into the fresh twilight air.\n\nThe coolness of the incoming night breathed the familiar sense of sobriety back into her. Aylera had only just processed what she was actually told by the time the two began to move quickly. Crawling in tight spaces? Where in the world was she following this woman? Her gut twisted slightly, but she paid it no mind. It wasn't too late to change course, but the overwhelming sense of curiosity seemed to take over her 'better judgement'. She was a free woman after all, and her goddess was not opposed to any of her actions. Dragomira was right, though she was the first to ever call her 'badass'. Tonight was one of many firsts.\n\nAylera's legs felt stiff for a good minute before her muscles found their pacing. She managed to find her jog at Dragomira's pace, following close behind and slightly to her left. As they moved, she slung her spear into a slot on her pack, swiftly strapping it into place with the ease of years of muscle memory. Her eyes darted around, taking in the sight of the city at night, drinking in its ambient noise of citizens going about their business, noisy pubs and restaurants, carriages rumbling on the cobblestone streets. It was far from familiar, but all the more befitting of her surroundings. People of all walks of life seemed to be about, whether returning from a long day's work or going out for a night on the town. She could only imagine where the dwarf was taking her. It seemed she'd just have to wait to find out, though her eyes flickered between the dwarf and in the direction she led her.\n\nOnce their pace was even, Aylera's breath caught up to her. Keeping her voice low like her friend, she got herself closer to speak. Luckily, her training had allowed her to have a clear tone even while sprinting. \"Hah, it seems you have quite the surprise in store.\" The stars began to peek out from behind the clouds above, twinkling in a notably more gentle way than back in the woods. Must be all the artificial lights. She caught a glimpse of the moon, which still shone brightly above, rising higher in the sky with every passing minute. The elf made a mental note to ask her friend about how the stars looked around the world." }, { "author": "Dragomira Hemlock", "message": "Dragomira was half expecting Aylera to have trouble keeping up. She wasn't trying to lose her in the city, gods no, she was quite excited for what she had to show her. But she was expecting her to struggle a bit. The streets were emptier than usual but still populated enough to run the risk of knocking someone over. Dragomira had no worry about that. In the same way Aylera was accustomed to the forest and woodlands, Dragomira navigated the urban sprawl of civilization like she had been living in these cities all her life. She expected Aylera would follow at a distance. Not wanting to run the risk of bothering someone. Paladin behavior if there ever was one.\n\nBut to the Dwarves surprise, she could hear the sound of clattering jewelry behind her before she heard her companion now right next to her. A grin of delight reached the corners of her face at the sight of her.\n\n\"Yeah! That's the spirit!\"\n\nShe cheered, pointing forward upon the upcoming ledge. A cliff about 20 feet down. It wasn't anything too dangerous with railing built on the ledges to keep people from falling and a staircase near the edge to allow safe passage down. It was quite the beautiful spot. A common place for travelers, couples and anyone who wanted a grand view over the lower city and its landscape. This was clearly the spot she had in mind, right?\n\nThough that thought would be quickly dashed by the indication that Dragomira was not slowing down in the slightest. Not even as she neared the edge. Not even taking a moment to glance at the safe way down.\n\n\"You ever hear the expression about taking a leap of faith?\"\n\nThe hunter asked as she side stepped a couple leaning against the railing before leaping atop the metal bars.\n\n\"Meet you at the bottom!\"\n\nAnd with that Dragomira turned to face the Paladin, still grinning wide as she placed two fingers to the side of her forehead before leaping off of the ledge herself. Not even looking to see what was down there. Was she okay? Was she hurt? There wasn't any sounds you'd expect from a bad fall. Aylera would have to reach the bottom to investigate herself." }, { "author": "Aylera Mialar", "message": "The busy night somehow hadn't deterred her energy, but the presence of Dragomira seemed to exacerbate it. The starry night above swam slightly as she kept up with the dwarf. Maybe the energy was just the alcohol- it didn't matter though. For once, the paladin was having fun without allowing the guilt of possible debauchery to consume her. Freedom pulsed through her, with the familiar rush of adrenaline sharpening her senses against the drink's dullness. Unable to think better- which was for the best, Aylera grinned back.\n\nHowever, seeing the ledge rapidly approach, the more familiar sense of caution caught her attention back to reality. She barely had time to listen to the dwarf's words before she could understand what they meant. Luckily for Aylera, her longer legs allowed her to stay nearby even as she instinctively slowed as they reached the railing. Giving the couple a wider breadth of space, she audibly gasped as Dragomira fell. Immediately, she had to rush forward, leaning with an excess of energy over the rail to catch a glimpse of the other woman. Still, she was too slow, and darkness swallowed her before she could see anything but the flutter of a jacket catching air as it fell.\n\nAylera bit her tongue hard. Listening harder, there was no audible confirmation of the landing- and there should have been by now if it were to be harmful, right? She'd seen plenty fall out of trees, more than her fair share of injuries on the training field. But that was quite the fall- high enough to cause more than a fair share of damage if one were to land in any sort of compromising position. Still... If she hadn't heard anything, maybe it was okay? Aylera herself had fallen out of plenty of trees and been completely fine- aside from a broken wrist. She was trained in plenty of healing spells- she'd be fine if this were the case, no? It was only... A few feet higher than her worst fall, granted that time she hadn't used proper protocol to survive such a fall.\n\nThat's right, she knew how to fall- both from experience and training. She'd be fine if she believed, right? The elven woman didn't question her newfound friend's antics, she had seemed so impeccably confident, after all. Perhaps it was naivete, but she chose her course of action.\n\nWith a deep breath, she prayed aloud. Climbing up the railing, she turned her eyes up to the stars. The prayer was loud enough to be heard from nearby, but not below. Her stomach roiled with complaint, but she chose to pay it no mind. She clasped her hands together tightly, balancing on the thin rail as she finished the elvish words. Despite her 'better' judgment once more, she decided to trust. She trusted her goddess to protect her, she trusted her abilities, she even trusted a stranger... Just this once. Hopefully, now Dragomira had moved out of the way lest the two unfortunately collide in this daring mess.\n\nWith that, Aylera let gravity take her. The swell of air beneath her billowing out her cloak above her, even carrying the heaviness of her hair above her head. She was truly a free woman now." }, { "author": "Dragomira Hemlock", "message": "Down. Down. Down into the dark Aylera descended. For those few short seconds she was airborne she would feel the wind rushing past her as though she were cutting through it like a blade through leather. It was in this space that the mind worked at lightning speed as it seemed the world slowed around the body. Awaiting whatever fate was awaiting it at the bottom. What was at the bottom? Was it really worth it when there was a staircase right next to her? Just to follow Dragomira into this unknown descent? A woman that she had just met? However she was feeling about this. Whatever thoughts raced through her mind. The paladin would feel the impact. \n\nIt was the familiar sensation of fabric they would feel brush against her hands and neck as she felt herself drop. All the momentum she had built from falling leaving her as she somewhat bounced in place for a moment. The next drop followed with a loud tear beneath her and her landing onto the ground. At it turned out, she had landed onto a large piece of fabric placed over a stall in the lower market to keep the products from getting wet from rain or damaged by fallen debris. Of course, with the full weight of Aylera and Dragomira now placed upon it it couldn't withstand the weight and now had a large person sized hole in it.\n\nDragomira, who had already gotten herself up to her feet could be heard snickering in the darkness. Taking Aylera's hand in an effort to help her stand. At least, the best she could given her size.\n\n\"Hells bells, I didn't think you'd actually do it! You really are wild\"\n\nThe pair would only have a few moments to celebrate their landing as a shout could be heard further on down the street.\n\n```\"Hey! Stop right there!\"```\n\nThe stern voice of a member of the city watch called out to them as he began to march his way over. Dragomira, of course, had no intentions of staying any around for this. After all, they were almost there!\n\n\"It's not too far now, right down here\"\n\nThe Dwarf quickly whispered before taking off running as she did before. Although, she was still holding onto Aylera's hand, though if the paladin had no intentions of keeping up she would easily slip through her grasp and continue. After all, she wasn't planning on sticking around after causing trouble. And if Aylera followed, she'd be guiding her the whole way." }, { "author": "Aylera Mialar", "message": "By the Mother- it felt as if her stomach jumped up into her throat as she hit the fabric. Aylera didn't have a moment to make a sound before they fell below. Her eyes were wide, a complete deer-in-the-headlights stare at Dragomira as she realized what had just happened. The elf's heart reverberated in her ears to the point that it was hard to make out any sound. Gods... She had no idea what she felt other than the rush of adrenaline surging through her veins. Her eyes flicked upwards at the hole. How had her new companion known about this? Well, it wasn't worth questioning now.\n\nIn the heat of emotion and hormonal wild, she returned her gaze to Dragomira, still wide-eyed, a heated grin crossing her face. It had been so long since she felt like this. Not since she and Varis would sneak off into the woods to escape from their lessons- and they had been children then. The sudden awareness of touch dragged her from her daze, and her ears with it.\n\n\"Hah... It has been a while since I've done something like this\".\n\nHer voice wavered slightly due to the rush, but her smile remained as she allowed herself to be assisted. Aylera's face felt hot, her ears burning slightly. With all of the excitement, she couldn't make any distinction of why she was red, though the feeling of physical contact with another person seemed to ring in her mind as well. However, that did not last long seeing as they now had company.\n\nEyes moving to the voice, it seemed her instinct from her childhood aligned with the dwarf's. The tug of tension between Dragomira's and her hands pulled her to action. Taking off together, a low lengthy murmur of elvish escaped Aylera's lips. It took a moment to recite the full saying of her old friend of a combination of spells, her free hand producing a single white rose. It was a known symbol of secrecy in only the most respectfully godly way, of course. With it, she finished the words and blew gently into the petals, which quickly evaporated into dust.\n\nThe two were covered in a veil of shadow, though they could see just fine. She thanked Alynthi for her neutrality as the two seemingly vanished into thin air. Their footsteps silenced, as did the jingling of the elf's adornments.\n\n\"We should be left alone now.\"\n\nShe continued to whisper, even though at their current rate there was at least enough distance between them and the guard that they wouldn't be heard. It was better safe than sorry though. The only rational part of her brain apparently left complained that she hadn't at least left some compensation for the damages. Perhaps she could leave some coin on their way back. That and an offering to the goddess would suffice, no?\n\nAs they continued, though, the elf became all the more aware of the physical contact happening between the two women. Did her heart skip a beat due to it or was it just the situation? She flicked her free hand to not bite her lip as they continued onward, dashing through the shadows. Their cloaking would last a good while, more than enough to get to their destination if it was nearby. She'd make sure they weren't followed later- although she had a sneaking suspicion that the dwarf she followed was no novice to this sort of activity. How fascinating, a hunter with such a keen sense of... Debauchery? That wasn't really the word she'd use aloud- but it seemed fitting anyway. 'Heaven and stars above, *Focus* Alyera', she reminded herself, returning her mind to the path, or lack thereof, in front of them." }, { "author": "Dragomira Hemlock", "message": "Dragomira was far faster than one would expect from the average Dwarf. While she certainly had the strength fitting for her kind it was as though she used it with every step to launch herself off the ground as she ran. It was fortunate Aylera was able to keep speed with her. At this point, all the adrenaline coursing through her blood had her in a full on sprint. Rushing past any and every obstacle she came across with her new partner in crime in tow. The voice of the trailing guard was distant but consistent. Certainly not gaining pace but not losing ground either. She would have to get creative to escape.\n\nBut lucky for her, it seemed Aylera had a good few tricks up her sleave. One of which being a spell of white petals which danced in the cold nights air. Enveloping them both as they were empty of both sight and sound. The silent footsteps would be the first thing that Dragomira noticed as she slowly came to the stop. The guard rushing right past them under the assumption they were right down the street in the pitch black. A very handy spell. One which would have helped her in a fair number of circumstance in the past.\n\n\"Huh... Isn't this... Like cheating?\"\n\nShe questioned in her hushed tone looking up at the paladin who's hand she still held. A look of faint concern on her face. Like Aylera had broken some social convention right next to her. Though that wouldn't last long before she broke out into the smile she had kept all night. \n\n\"Kidding! That was pretty quick thinking. You really were my knight in shining... Tunic? You get the idea\"\n\nShe mentioned before the two would take to the street again now under the cloak of darkness. Though, Dragomira still had a firm grasp of Aylera's hand as she had when they were sprinting. As before, she could slip her hand out if she preferred. But for whatever reason she hadn't let go even with the danger past. Though surprisingly, she would find the assassins hands to be surprisingly soft for what one would expect from a monster hunter. She could trace a few cuts and scars along her palms, but over all, there was a gentleness underneath all the bluster and roughness.\n\nRegardless, it wouldn't be long until the pair stopped right in the middle of the street. Before them was nothing. Aside from a single manhole cover. One which Dragomira had crouched down next to. Pulling a dagger out from under her cloak to help pry it and reveal the hole leading underground.\n\nHow characteristic for a Dwarf.\n\n\"It's right down here. Trust me, it'll be worth it\"\n\nShe stated before grabbing onto the ladder and sliding down into the dark once again." }, { "author": "Aylera Mialar", "message": "Heart hammering in her ears, Dragomira's pause caught her by surprise. The elf nearly tripped over her own two feet, narrowly catching herself with an awkward sidestep before straightening herself out. In the midst of halting her acceleration, she bit down on the inside of her cheek, and the familiar tang of blood filled her mouth. The woman had only just caught her breath when she was questioned. The air seemed to halt in her throat, threatening to choke her. She felt the heat of her cheeks radiate all over, and it felt as if her heart simply stopped seeing the expression her devious friend made. If the moment lasted any longer she felt as if she'd simply keel over and die of shame.\n\nLuckily for her, that was not the case. Breath escaped her lungs in a sigh and she smiled back, looking away at the compliment to not bring back any semblance of the awkward bubble that had only just popped. She laughed slightly, her free hand reaching to adjust the hair at the nape of her neck.\n\n\"It's an old trick- I was more rambunctious as a child\".\n\nStill, she couldn't keep her eyes away for long, turning them back to the dwarf and the path ahead of them as they took off once more. Thank goodness for their height difference- honest-to-goddess, Dragomira was *Fast. As much as speed aligned with an ability to hunt well, she'd met plenty of strong individuals capable of, in her mind, taking down terrifyingly large beasts who were ungodly slow. Fast with truly shockingly soft hands. How odd? It was apparent the dwarven woman had quite the skillset, and even more unknown of a personality hiding under her gruff-seeming exterior.\n\nAylera kept her thoughts to herself as they continued onward. She watched carefully as Dragomira removed the cover, swallowing hard as a long-unfelt fear filled her stomach. Oh goddess no- no no no. As it turns out, Aylera was terribly afraid of large caves. Her brain screamed and she froze for the long moment it took for the dwarf to finish. Her voice caught in her throat as she reached after the dwarf.\n\nToo late. The elf bit her lip hard to keep from cursing audibly. Her mind continued screaming at itself, half of her ready to outgrow the frankly idiotic phobia- who's to say they would even be going deep? It couldn't be worse than a basement. The other half of her wasn't having it. What if it was deep? What if it caved in? What if they suffocated? She'd die a horrible, disgraceful death not even able to look upon the great domain of Alynthi in her last moments.\n\nFuck it. Fuck this, fuck the fear. Thank the goddess for the silencing of the spell. Aylera prayed loudly, visibly trembling as she stood before the hole. Gods, she'd jump off the rail* *Anytime* As opposed to this. Fuck it. She kept her unholy words in her mind and began making the descent, her knuckles turning white from gripping the ladder so tightly. It took everything in her power not to scream. Instead, she kept her mind and mouth occupied with devotion. At least her last words heard by the surface world of her goddess would be ones of devotion.\n\nThe anxiety grew ever stronger as she neared the bottom, her blessed ability to see in low lighting only brushing the surface of the turmoil that stirred within her. To be honest, she felt as if she could expel her bodily fluids at any moment. It was so much she felt as if she'd cry, shaking like a leaf. But she did it anyway. Why in Alynthi's name *Was* She doing this anyway? Over some friend she'd made at a seedy tavern that she shouldn't have been at in the first place? No. This was a trial of her own temperance, of her own adaptability and to see just how much she was truly capable of now that she was free. Yes. Freedom. Aylera would not lose herself any longer.\n\nBut by the gods, it felt like she could shit herself out of fear, despite her fighting against it." }, { "author": "Dragomira Hemlock", "message": "The bottom of Dragomira's boots squeaked against the rusted metal ladder. Bits of metal clattering on the ground beneath her as she felt the ladder rattle and buckle from the velocity of her descent. She would fortunately be able to land with both feet on the ground before the ladder had the chance to tear itself free from the wall. It might even be sturdy enough for them both to be able to make it out of there when they were done. But for now, Dragomira now found herself in one of the largest underground networks in the world. The sewer system of the largest city in Lucidien. It was pitch black below aside from the faint light from the hole in which they had entered from. Though the scent of sewage and rot would make sight an unimportant sensation. For a river of filth and rot slowly made its way through these tunnels. Carrying all sorts of refuse and garbage to be carried far far away from the city by this tide of decay.\n\nThe Dwarf held her hand over her nose and mouth as she pressed her hand against the wall. The scent was terrible, but to her benefit it was what made these sewers her own. After all, who would brave a place like this when you could simply travel the streets above? This place was an assassins dream, it was nothing a nice long celebratory bath couldn't fix when she climbed out of this place. And thankfully, another perk of her upbringing was her reliance on her other senses. She remembered that pile of wooden scrap she left. Exactly 14 steps from the enterance. She counted each of them out before her foot clattered against the collection. Kneeling down, she ran her hand against the old wood until she found one of suitable size. Using a pair of daggers to try and make a suitable fire. Rotating the blade back and forth on her palms until a decent enough spark set the wood alight, providing her with a suitable torch.\n\nBy the time that Aylera had made her way down, Dragomira was already making her way back with their new light source.\n\n\"Welcome to the underground! North goes for a few miles until you make it to the exit hole where all this garbage is going to end up. We'll be walking south, shouldn't take more than a few minutes.\"\n\nShe explained, pointing in the direction that the pair will have to travel if they wish to reach this high quality spot Dragomira keeps talking about. At this point it seemed as though she were going to take her to another world with how much effort is needed to get there.\n\n\"Sorry about the scent down here. I've gotta extra cloth to use for a mask if you-\"\n\nShe prepared to offer before the light fully illuminated Alyera. There were very few things you could sneak past Dragomira, and she knew signs of fear and worry all too well. The rapidly darting eyes, the rise and fall of her chest. It was clear that the brave paladin was not enjoying this place as much as she was.\n\nOh... She hates it down here...\n\nShe slowly came to realize. All Dragomira's life has been her own adventure where sometimes other people tag along for the ride. The only time she ever shared her experiences genuinely was with Baldwin, and they were so alike that she never even had to question her actions. Another reason why they never worked. But now she was with company that she was dragging along for her next adventure. This whole thing even started just because she wanted material for her next book. An adventure to put down into paper. The person involved didn't even cross her mind. But seeing them as they were now put that person right front and center.\n\nGods I'm a piece of shit\n\nDragomira let out a quiet huff buried under yet another chuckle as she looked around for a few moments. Contemplation as for what to do now.\n\n\"Hey uh... You know, actually we can get out of here right now if you want, actually. I guess I forgot how gross, ya know? We can get out of here and just call it a night if you want, ya know?\"" }, { "author": "Aylera Mialar", "message": "The wood elf shook like a leaf the entire descent. It was quite the miracle the ladder held, with her rattling around like a ripe berry upon a weak stem. Aylera breathed through her mouth, avoiding the acrid stench emanating from below. Well... At least it wasn't a cave system. If it was attached to the city, it must have been engineered to withstand almost anything- and from what she knew of the natural world of the area, earthquakes weren't an issue. Her fear was silly, or at least that's what she told herself. At the very least, she refused to let it rule over her any longer.\n\nStill, she couldn't shake it's innate powers over her. As Aylera stepped to the floor of the sewer, she knotted her hands together, watching Dragomira and her light make their way over. In an attempt to not appear so petrified, Aylera breathed deeply, though she still refused to use her nose. It wasn't so bad- aside from the sewage. Her eyes moved everywhere, as if she could access the structural integrity of the underground by staring at it hard enough. Again, it seemed alright, her desperate attempts at using logic to outweigh her fear were working enough to keep her rooted where she was. Biting down on her lower lip, her face contorted as she tried to muster a smile at Dragomira. She wasn't to blame, she had no idea Aylera had such a childish fear. The elf just wished it wasn't so obvious, but there wasn't much she could do about that now.\n\nShe watched the dwarf realize what was going on with her in what felt like slow motion. The heat of embarrassment burned her cheeks, closing her throat as she tried to speak. The absolute last thing she wanted was to be a disappointment and the moment her new companion suggested calling it off she found the courage in her to speak, though her voice wavered.\n\n\"No, no! There's no need for that- I just- well, I'm working on overcoming a silly fear- do not fret about me, please\". \nHer hands frantically moved as if waving away the 'silly' fear from her head. It would not erase her trembling, nor would it fix the clamor of her mind, but she had decided to conquer it anyway. Stepping closer to Dragomira, she continued to wring her hands. Judgment was what she so wished to avoid. It was one thing coming from herself, or her goddess- but from her? That threatened to break the already delicate composure she had so carefully managed to obtain.\n\n\"I- I want to go. Wherever it is- I'd like to. Please take me\", She stammered, but her words were coated in sincerity. If she were to make any headway in the world, she needed to prove to herself and her goddess that she was capable. Proving that to Dragomira would help too- and as much as she wasn't keen on being so vulnerable, her immediate trust was placed in her. There was no room to question motives or histories now, it was just them and these tunnels.\n\nHer gaze met the other woman's pleading with her not to take pity. Not much else could be said to make the obvious less so, but she tried to write it off anyway. \"I just don't uh... Have much experience underground. Alynthi is very much a- uh- terrestrial goddess... You know?\". It was in these moments her accent shone harder than before. The common language was heavy on her tongue. She'd barely been out of the House for a few years, only making her way around actual other settlements for much less time. Aylera refused to let her inexperience rule over her- and there is only one way of remedying it. She *Had* To do this, if not for herself or her goddess then for the sake of her pride." }, { "author": "Dragomira Hemlock", "message": "Dragomira was already making her first few steps back toward the ladder. Ready to leave this little escapade behind in favor of something far more suitable. Dragomira herself was among the few who would view a descent into worlds largest sewer tunnels as an adventure worth her time, after all. Before she could place her foot on the first rung of the ladder Aylera began to speak. Even in the dark she could see the frantic little waves she was making. The tremble in her voice was absolutely unmistakable to her ears. And a woman in her profession knew the sounds of fright all too well. But despite all that, she wanted to stay. \n\nDragomira couldn't help but be surprised. For the woman who had spent 6 decades learning the ins and outs of people of all stripes she thought she had Aylera pinned. Nice enough, maybe even good in a fight. But held back with the same worries and anxieties she's seen time and time again from different people. Ironic from a paladin but nothing unexpected. After all, from what she could tell this woman really didn't seem to fit into the mold of a paladin all too well. At the very least on a surface level. But Aylera seemed to be different. There was no fooling the assassin, she could tell that she was nervous out of her mind. But she seemed willing to face it head on and combat it. She couldn't help but be more than just a little bit impressed. But mostly just thrilled they could keep going.\n\n\"Is that right?\"\n\nShe mused as she stepped around Aylera once again. The grime covering the ground itself seemed to stick to the bottom of her boots but Dragomira still seemed to glide across the disgusting stone regardless just like she had been when above ground. The mischievous smirk barely visible in the flickering light as everything seemed to fall right back into proper place.\n\n\"You'll want to stick close to me then. Darker than night down here and you're sure to get lost or slip into the sludge down there if you aren't careful. I like you and all, but just know if you fall in that mess I'm not jumping in there after you. Nor should you for me in the rare chance I slip or something.\"\n\nShe explained as she pointed her torch down the tunnel. Brightening up the labyrinth that the two now found themselves inside of. \n\nUp, right, left, forward, forward, down\n\nUp, right, left, forward, forward, down\n\nUp, right, left, forward, forward, down\n\nDragomira repeated in her head a few times over making sure that her directions were spot on. It would be awfully embarrassing to talk and act like she's been only to get horribly horribly lost. She glanced back at Aylera, bringing her attention back to the fact she was trembling like a branch in a storm. She knew full well she'd say it was fine if she asked, even though it most certainly was not, but it would feel callous not to do something.\n\n\"Hey, don't focus on all this mess alright? I gotcha\"\n\nShe extended out her hand to her companion. Both as a way to assuage her worries and to make sure she doesn't get separated. But that wouldn't be enough. Aylera needed a distraction. Something to take her mind off of all this down here. What better way then letting her indulge in a topic she was interested in.\n\n\"Hey. It's a bit of a walk to where we need to go. Why don't you tell me all about what life's like in that forest of yours? I try to keep cities as my stomping grounds and I know each major city like the back of my hand. Put me in a forest or, goddess forbid, a jungle, I'm not going to know which way is up or down." }, { "author": "Aylera Mialar", "message": "Dragomira now had an elf glued to her. Aylera didn't think twice about taking the other woman's hand, even with her trembling. Her words stuck in her mind- she had her. The elf spent her conscious energy trying not to fidget or squeeze too hard, her nerves feeling as if they were on fire with every step the two took in the sewers. Truth be told, her commentary on the idea of *Falling* In the already terrifying enough trenches of some of the elf's worst nightmares did not help- but she chose to continue. This was a choice. She needed to remember that, brand it into her mind, anything to work through this stupid fear. At least she wasn't alone, right? With her goddess feeling miles away at the surface world, she silently sang Alynthi's praises in the hopes that some stray roots or living beings could carry the message upwards.\n\nThe putrid substance beneath them squelched with each step, the eerie sounds filling the tunnels. Aylera grimaced at it, she'd enjoy a good bath after this, along with a cleansing ritual... Or several at this rate. Still, they persevered. As she came to a slightly more rational state of mind (though it was terribly fragile), the paladin suddenly remembered the powers she was so blissfully graced with. With that, she quietly muttered an incantation in elvish, flicking her free- still shaking hand up. With it, came three soft lights. They pulsed gently to life, casting a gentle warmth upon their decrepit surroundings. It wasn't much, nor would it last too long, but they were something to keep their eyes, and Aylera's nervous system, more relaxed. Truth be told, the idea of falling further had stuck in her mind, and this helped to ease that worry. An intrusive thought attempted to speak of the idea of being jump-scared in this already fragile state, but she thwarted it with the help of her dwarvish friend's words.\n\nDragomira's invitation to storytelling was a welcome distraction, though a detail in her phrasing stuck out.\n\nIf she was an acclaimed monster hunter- wouldn't she have to navigate the natural world relatively often? Perhaps not, it wasn't like Aylera knew much of life outside the Greenheart. Maybe monsters in cities were a problem she was wholly ignorant of, it wouldn't be the first time she was completely unaware of what was thought to be common knowledge. Maybe they lurked in places like this, it seemed evil enough- she stopped her line of thought there with a slight cringe. Changing her expression quickly, she gathered her remaining composure and poured it into her tone.\n\n\"The Greenheart is massive, bigger than many imagine it to be... Though from what I know it is nothing in comparison to the Kandagulu,\" Aylera began, her voice now only slightly wavering. \"It is dense all over, but the west differs from the east in terms of moisture. The western side is more... Classically picturesque. Great trees sit high above the rest of the canopy, intermixed with conifers and lower-level undergrowth. I found that many of the resident deer like to migrate in this area this time of year- plenty to feast on. The east, though, is more marsh-like. It's home to many sorts of water-loving creatures, very mossy\". The imagery of the place she'd called home for so long came to mind easily. Much the opposite of Dragomira, she knew the forest better than even some of her elven counterparts, what with her taste for undisturbed exploration.\n\n\"You know, I wasn't actually born in that place. I hail from a forest much further west- I believe it lies in Dasvaz now, but I'm not really up to date on the politics of it all.\"" }, { "author": "Dragomira Hemlock", "message": "Dragomira felt her arm tense as Aylera placed her hand in her own. It didn't take someone as keen as her to notice the trembling as she tried to keep her own arm steady. An image that certainly didn't fit what she expected from a paladin. To be so open in not just their fear, but in their emotions in general. In the short time they've known one another so far she's seen the joy in her eyes, the sadness in her mind, the thrumming of her heart. It was odd to be around someone who wears her heart so proudly on her cuff when you spend so much thought behind how you present yourself to others like it's a game of chess.\n\nDragomira was by far more outgoing than your standard sister. She says what she thinks but thinks immensely about what she says. If Aylera were to run into someone else that had met her they'd describe the base line of what you'd expect, but always with little discrepancies. For example, her aversion to the woods. A blatant lie, while Dragomira's ideal territory is with cities and bustling civilization, she has quite a fair amount of experience in all sorts of environments. And woodlands were quite high up there. \n\nHowever, Aylera didn't seem to question that fact as she began to describe the woods of her home while Dragomira entertained her with a facade of wonder. Dishonest? Sure. But it seemed to do wonders to calm her down. After all, what's the harm of a lie or two in a good yarn if it makes it more interesting?\n\n\"Dasvaz? Went up there myself a few years back, plan on keeping away from that place like the plague now that there's a full blown war up there.\"\n\nThe Dwarf held her torch high as they rounded the corner further into the sewers.\n\n\"No offense, of course. Guessing you left for good reason. Did the Greenheart draw you all the way to Alythni? Paladin training need you to commune with nature and the only place for it was the biggest forest in the world?\"" }, { "author": "Aylera Mialar", "message": "Keeping her eyes fixed on the path in front of them, Aylera simply nodded. Her bodily attention was consumed with keeping her composure, there was no space to do anything else. She wished her past was as simple as Dragomira questions, though she doubted the dwarf's was any simpler. The elf prayed every day that she'd wake up the next to be a better paladin, a better devotee, anything to make her choice feel less like a cry for help and more like a choice. It was, all of it was. Still, the residual imposter syndrome ate away at her stomach.\n\n\"None taken, my reason for leaving was similar to yours. I wasn't particularly interested in getting roped into slavery\". Her tone was tart, distinctly sour against her taste buds. The lights that followed them pulsed gently, as if with heartbeats of their own, the fire's flickers following suit. Shadows cast alongside the walls of the grimy sewers unsettled Aylera's stomach. \"The House of Elk took me in as an apprentice, but I did not declare my route as a paladin until after my 30 years of training were done. They found it... Unusual. Not many choose to be a paladin, of all things.\"\n\nAs much as she was an open book, the wood elf's feelings toward the entire situation were tumultuous, to say the least. She clicked her tongue, eyes fixated on their pattern of fixation between the tunnel ahead and the shadows of their motions. \"The Greenheart is wonderful, a truly divine place. Alynthi put everything a goddess could bless us with there, and I express nothing but gratitude for the forest. The House was much the same, save for a few... Notable distinctions between societies crafted by individuals and communities designed by the gods.\"\n\n\"I only left recently, you see\"\n\nThe tremors in her body slowly subsided as they continued onwards. Aylera was by no means relaxed, but the clamor of her mind seemed to change its tune. Now, she was too preoccupied with memories of the past to focus on her fear of her surroundings. Flashes of the crowns of trees towering above, the scent of fresh rain on moss, chatter of the youth, all filled her senses for a moment. With a sigh, she conjured a smile and broke her trance to look back at Dragomira, eyes flicking between the features of the other woman's face before returning to their place. Grateful that she had been spared pity and graced instead with curiosity, she asked a question of her own. \"What about you? Where is it you hail from?\"" } ]	764	20,108
363.666667	1776-07-04	GuildPublicThread	[ { "author": "Vynixi Settia", "message": "Vynixi had been spending the last few months trying to travel her way through Khisfire and making her way well really anywhere. She didn't know where to go or what she was even doing. She'd been stopping at places now and again to perform and tried getting a group but that wasn't something she had succeeded in doing. She didn't even know where she was at the moment but it seemed like she was maybe at a good place to work on performing and getting a group?\n\nVynixi's fox would be on her shoulders as it looked around before jumping down, running around in front of her as it gave small yips at times to help lead her through the area. Her walk was slow as she tried to not trip over anything. Her little bells ringing as she walked, she always wore them so she could be heard by her fox and if with someone hopefully keep her from getting lost. She was lucky to have gotten this far without ending up in a hole.\n\nOnce she was more towards the market of the town she would stick towards the edges, stopping to just listen for a bit. Maybe she could find something to eat here, she was a bit had no money. So, instead of just getting food normally she would send her fox off to grab some off a stand. It wasn't right but it was how she was hungry and needed some food before she could continue on. Her little fox would go through the crowds slowly as it scouted out the area for an easy target for food. Her little fox though would spot a person to steal from instead of stand this time. Sneaking over to the person and trying to quickly drag away their bag across the market." }, { "author": "Victoria 'Vix' Stonespire", "message": "It was somewhat of a rarity for Vix to travel outside of the capital, but today she'd made an exception. Brerith wasn't the smallest place she'd been by any means, but it was just a bit of a different culture than she was used to. A place of primarily traders, those that more than likely weren't planning to stay for more than a few days. There seemed to be few who weren't primarily focused on business. This was not all too helpful to her, but the fact that most would never see her again was rather a nice thing. It gave her quite the chance to perform without fear of tarnishing her reputation. An open coin-purse on the ground and reasonable skill on the lute was enough to at least buy a hot meal.\n\nThis was what she was doing now, having given up playing for the playing for the evening. She'd given after ten played songs and two songs she'd played and sung. The last two had brought in the least amount of money and the least amount of eye contact from most who walked by. She'd hoped her terms as a vocalist had improved, but she'd apparently been wrong. It wasn't like she was Bad, but that she really wasn't exceptionally good.\n\nRegardless, there was a distinct feeling of defeat hanging over her as she trudged off toward the market, lute strung over her back in its typical cloth sling.\n\nIn appearance, Vix was not all too remarkable a woman. She stood at just about five foot four, with black hair tied neatly back in a bun. Her clothing was perhaps the most interesting thing about her. She wore a pair of fitted black pants beneath a rather loose skirt-like garment. It was perhaps not best considered a skirt, given that it was clearly not meant to be worn on its own. The garment, which was a muted shade of red, hung over her right leg, with a slit along the left up to her hip leaving the leg uncovered. Her shirt too was red, though a very slightly different shade. It was sleeveless, but otherwise covered her up to her neck.\n\nHer face appeared to have been rather covered with makeup of some sort at the beginning of the day, though it largely had been sweated off. Circles of gray-white makeup around her dark eyes were all that remained. \n\nThe beastwalker was currently standing in line for what appeared to be some sort of popular food. She was a bit too tired to care about what it was, only that it appeared quite cheap. It was then that she spotted what appeared to be a strange little thieving animal. She pursed her lips. How rude. The woman looked from side to side, then stepped out of line. She'd been victim to thieves before, and it seemed likely this was a pet.\n\nSlowly, Vix crept up on the animal, waiting for it to get a solid hold on the bag. Once it had, the woman, now positioned directly behind it, slammed the heel of her boot into the ground, slapped her hands together in a clap and gave a rather loud yell.\n\n\"SHOO! Get!\"" }, { "author": "Vynixi Settia", "message": "The little fox wouldn't be easily scared in fact it did the opposite of making the little thing spook and run without the bag. Instead it would keep hold of the bag as it jumped with a start and quickly darted to the left dragging the bag with it as now people noticed the little fox running with a stolen bag. The little thief was not about to give up it's catch even if it was more than a piece of bread. \n\nThe fox was definitely a pet but more a familiar one as it definitely didn't look like a normal fox. No this ones fur colors matched but that was as far as the normal look went. Instead it would have almost a petals design, tattoo like look to the fur. It also was a fast little fox as it was making its way back to its master. \n\nVy had been simply just waiting till the noise in the market got louder, that was never a good thing when it sounded like more people were noticing something in a bad way. She would push off the wall as she move back from the market, she knew which way to back up from but couldn't just leave without her little fox either. No, she would be slow and try to not draw attention to herself till her fox got to her, than she could make a run for it. What had her little fox gotten to make the market stir so much? She would have to probably scold her later for taking something too big.\n\nThe little fox did get a pretty decent crowd chasing it but it kept its distance from others and seemed to just lead everyone in circles, it was definitely keeping anyone from finding who she belonged to and just trying to lose her tail of one's wanting her loot back, once confusing the group she would dart out from under a cart and head off to a small cut off from the main market area and to her master. Her tail flicking out of view as she went down the road to with her prize quiet triumphantly." }, { "author": "Vayra Vakara", "message": "The quaint little town of Brerith sure has its reputation. With a border between supposed lawlessness and the orderly grip of the Iron King's lands, who could doubt all manner of trouble? And with it, all manner of interesting faces to pass these roads. \n\nThe center of trade, there were many luxuries a market possessed. The mixture of goods both Khisfiran and Alynthi, a mixture of cultures sharing smiles and good value! An array of patterned Alynthi carpets draped over a certain stall caught the particular eye of one, an ashen skinned finger tracing a particularly long nail in curious inspection. A smile, fanged yet cheerful. And eyes, betraying her origin with a tone mirroring the glow of the Khisfiran Sun! A Young Tiefling woman by the name of Vayra Vakara. Within Khisfire, holding the reputation as a known adventurer and skilled illusionist! Raven locks draped long and loose, and up upon her hair sprouted the darkened horns of a Tiefling. \n.\n\nOf what suspicion others had for her Tiefling nature, she would retain with smiles and positivity as she wandered freely along the sections of stalls. If her eyes hadn't offered subtle detail of her origin, then her attire certainly would. If one could spy underneath the quick addition of a cloak to accommodate the locals, it would seem the Young Tiefling was draped in all manner of Khisfiran style! Her grey skin played delicately with the brighter tone of her cultural wear. A get up that held familiarity with a dancer from her lands, yet tweaked for adventure.\n\nYet the manner of her wear mattered little at the sudden bustle of the crowd! Her golden gaze flickered in confusion upon the yell of a Lady some distance away. Then, the sprout and quick pace of a Fox! And more fun, a Fox with a bag! Vay couldn't help but tilt her head at the sight, wondering if she could just be boring and leave the matter be. A thought, that wouldn't last!\n\nThe slightest swish of her tail dashed at her cloak, an air of excitement as her movement ramped up. Quietly, and from the sidelines, her curious stares followed the path of the Fox! Leading elsewhere, out from the market. Slowly, the Young Illusionist would follow such a trail." }, { "author": "Victoria 'Vix' Stonespire", "message": "As the fox darted out of Vix's way, the beastwalker did what was best described as a strange little bout of footwork. It seemed like she was split in attempting to get away from the thing and attempting to get in its way. Her arms had lifted up, bent at the elbows and wrists turned inward. After a few seconds of this strange little dance, the beastwalker hopped out of the way of the fox. It wasn't her bag, and it wasn't her problem. Well, not really. \n\nShe had seen the thing steal the bag though, and that made her feel sort of bad. Was she morally obligated to say Something? Probably. Was she going to? Probably not. She didn't want to look like an accomplice, and one would have to be utterly blind to not see such a creature taking their bag anyway. It was certainly not just a fox, though Vix was quite certain she didn't much care about the specifics of its nature. It was a nuisance, plain and simple.\n\nBut she did feel bad.\n\nVix groaned, then slowly turned to follow the creature. Her eyes slid to the owner of the bag, making note of their appearance, then set off at a brisk walk after the fox. Her hands lowered, smoothing down her half-skirt. There were plenty of folk here that she didn't want to excite. She didn't want to be chased by a throng of people. Though she didn't necessarily want to be the one responsible for tracking down this creature, she did think she'd feel bad if she didn't. Besides, it wasn't like she had anything better to do.\n\nOnce she turned the corner, the beastwalker broke into a light jog. She was going to run this little creature down." }, { "author": "Vynixi Settia", "message": "The little fox would happily trot down the path it was taking as it dragged along the bag, it had thought it had gotten rid of everyone seeing where it went and didn't know the two that had followed her down her little path. \n\nVynixi had stopped moving at hearing the little footprints of her fox. Kneeling down as she would wait to feel her fox close. Her tail swishing slightly as she was a bit anxious after hearing the market get loud with others trying to get her fox, at least it seemed like she was safe. Once she has her fox in her arms, she would pet it's fur as she talked to it quietly in Infernal. \"What have you been up to? You took something much bigger than a piece of food didn't you? You are a sly little fox, what did you take that make so many people unhappy?\" \n\nVynixi would feel around till she felt the bag, it would help more than just a piece of food but what all was in it she didn't know. She would feel that a piece of fruit had come out though and would take that, she could return the rest but a little fruit missing wouldn't hurt. \n\nShe didn't look very well off, her long skirt was torn and the color faded under her worn out cloak, something she's taken when she'd ran off. Her hair was a mess from wind as she couldn't see how to fix her hair well and so she'd let it just be a frizzy mess. Sometimes it was okay when she danced but lately it had been a bit much even for her to deal with. \n\nBreaking the fruit she would give some to her fox before she'd bite into her own piece. She didn't know what to do with the bag, she didn't want to get in trouble for that but she also didn't want to keep it either. \"What am I going to do with you? We will need to return the bag... But that's not going to be easy because you had people notice you.\"" }, { "author": "Vayra Vakara", "message": "Soon the angered crowd lessened to those who likely had far more interest than they should have. Stray traders soon finding their tracking had gone cold, yet this Lady seemed far different. Vayra watched quietly at the one who turned the corner, the right path to finding this thief! The entrance of another likely spied trouble for some, but that Adventurous blood of hers couldn't help but feel even more sated. \n\nSmiling to herself, the Young Tiefling followed hot on the trail! And soon, with the lack of eyes upon her from the market, came ample time to cast. \n\nExtending her left hand out with all manner of grace, the Tiefling made a slow swishing motion as her right soon flanked the other in motion. Eyes shutting, her body would act upon a subtle little dance as a purplish hue soon wrapped around her form. A smile in kind, Vayra imagined her motions. The bright colours of her attire, the overlap of her fitted cloak. The Ashen skin on display, that soon shimmered into nothing it all! \n\nThe aura of purple soon dissipated, and so did Vayra! From behind the pair, there would be nothing. - But the quietened footsteps of the Illusionist approaching within her own invisibility." }, { "author": "Victoria 'Vix' Stonespire", "message": "The woman stood there for a long moment, staring at the fox. She couldn't say that she actually cared that much what it did, but she was here now. The woman's face pressed into what was best described as a pinched-scowl, staring down at the woman on the ground before her. A common thief with some sort of familiar. Great.\n\nIt didn't seem that either had noticed her. Either the fox wasn't too terribly clever, or it wasn't used to being followed. That didn't matter much though. Her eyes slid to the woman beside it. Frazzled and clearly somewhat disoriented. No, not disoriented, blind. The way that she handled the stolen bag told her that much. She paced closer, then thought the better of it, hanging back instead. It wasn't her business anyway, and she had little interest in engaging with one who chose to supply themselves through means such as this.\n\nA quick survey of her surroundings told her that she was plausibly alone, but she was quite certain she'd heard a second set of footsteps heading after her. However, no second person had emerged thus far. Vix pursed her lips and stepped back. Perhaps someone else would appear to deal with this one, or perhaps no one would. Either way, her interest in the thief had waned. Now, there was only the mild hope that someone of interest would come along." }, { "author": "Vynixi Settia", "message": "Vynixi hadn't expected to get away with the bag and she didn't plan to keep it either. She didn't know what to do though with it though. Though she wasn't so deaf as to not notice the change in the area, she knew someone was there and so did her fox. It just simply was not easy to bring up a conversation with someone not talking. \n\nVy would look up towards the area of where she thought the stranger was at and tilted her head, they didn't seem to want to be there maybe? \"If the bags yours you can have it, I have not planned on taking anyone's bag. My little fox had other plans and thought a bag was more helpful than food.\" Vynixi wasn't going to say she hadn't meant to have food stolen, she knew when she was at fault for something the bag just wasn't one of those times.\n\n\"I'm sorry my fox stole the bag and we ate a piece of the food. I will admit I shouldn't have do that either... It just been a long time since I had ate anything. Nothing else is stole from the bag, and I was planning to bring it back after I realized what my little fox did.\" Maybe it was pointless to try and say sorry but it maybe could keep her out of getting dragged off for stealing. Least it was a small thought but not one even she wad confident in, just because she was blind didn't mean she didn't have to deal with her actions." }, { "author": "Vayra Vakara", "message": "The scene played out in such intriguing fashion! Silently would the Illusionist prowl, as she observed. A Lady on the ground with the stolen bag in hand and that troublesome fox standing just beside her. Aswell, close but clearly separate, the woman she had seen before at the market. Silent, overlooking the Thief that tried best to reason.\n\nVayra was fully prepared for an armed type, a conflict at hand! - Which made this even more surprising, and potentially dissapointing. An unconventional approach, the idea for ambush falling absent. Instead, the Tiefling made her approach with the audible footsteps at Victoria's left side. \n\nIf she were to peer, nothing would show! Until, of course, a sparkle of light purple soon betrayed the aura of a figure. Invisibility, soon dissipating as the figure with a fang-filled smile revealed themselves. A Tiefling, offering a quck wave before simply brushing past Victoria to get a good look at the supposed Thief!\n\n\"Well, well, well..!\" - Vayra spoke in a tone higher, eyes narrowed upon the Thief! A Khisfiran flair carried her accent, while she tried to sound at the very least imposing. A struggle, clearly. \n\n\"Was she.. On the ground when you found her..?\" - Vayra questioned with a glance back to Victoria, seeming quite a bit confused at the scene. A tut followed, then a glance back at Vyn, noting her horns with a scoff. \"In Khisfire, you'd lose a horn for thievery! Mhm!\"" }, { "author": "Victoria 'Vix' Stonespire", "message": "\"Right.\"\n\nVix took a step back. This was starting to feel like this was not her problem. It seemed like she'd been planning on stealing anyway, which wasn't necessarily inexcusable. However, the pity this woman seemed to hold for herself was somewhat irksome. Beyond that, why did she keep calling her fox \"Little\"? It seemed to be of average size to her. Perhaps an additional attempt at garnering pity? Vix was, for a moment, selfishly glad that this woman certainly couldn't see her rolling her eyes.\n\n\"Well, it's not mine. I suppose I don't much care.\"\n\nShe cleared her throat once more, taking a small step back. She was quite certain she was just about done here. However, it seemed she was not alone. That second set of footsteps had not been imagined. Vix visibly startled as a Vayra popped into view beside her, the woman half-turning on her heel to face the tiefling. \n\n\"She was. Why?\"\n\nWas she being accused of harming her? She hadn't, and thought it was quite clear that she was unharmed. She raised her brows, waiting for a response from the tiefling before her." }, { "author": "Vynixi Settia", "message": "Vynixi didn't much like the new person getting so close to her but it was something she couldn't avoid when on the ground. Getting up slowly she would dust off her front before looking towards the tiefling voice. \"I was sitting, any dancer needs a break now and again to get their strength back from traveling. I know the things that happen to a thief there, but I'm not a tiefling and I don't have no pride in something I usually hide anyways.* \"Vynixi didn't much have any part of her she cared for since she couldn't see it anyways, even when using her fox it wasn't something she cared to look for. To her being a succubus left a lot of hate for her mother. \n\nLeaning down and feeling for the bag before picking it up, looking towards where the first person was, she didn't think asking for help back was going to happen.* \"I see when I guess I will have to go back to the market than, since it doesn't seem your someone trying to get it back for who my fox got it from. If you want to report me go ahead, I won't run. Got nowhere to run, I just got here.\" \n\nVynixi little bells would ring with her tail movements before she would make her tail vanish under her cloak. She'd forgotten she'd had it out, another things she didn't like others seeing. \"I suppose I can't get help back to the market? I won't try getting anyone else in trouble it just is easier following someone in a new place for me, less running into things.\" Vynixi would touch her necklace for a moment as she waited for an answer she didn't know would come or not." }, { "author": "Vayra Vakara", "message": "The Tiefling, now center of the scene, made her way deciphering just what was going on. A clear blink, as she looked back to Victoria with a slight snicker. \n\n\"Well.. You know, Thieves usually love to run! Mmh, usually..\" Confusion apparent as her words soon seemed invalidated by the Concubus sitting on the ground. Watching her get up, the Tiefling seemed especially ready for any sudden moves! Playing the hero, it seemed - Despite the clear youthfulness that followed her.\n\nVayra visibly blinked at the sudden explanation. If one could imagine the look of being overwhelmed, it was sure to show on that Young Tiefling's face! A step back as she watched her hold the bag and make her steps, the Khisfiran watched with a clear narrow of her eyes. \n\n\"Tiefling or no, you still have horns! It.. Doesn't matter. Shouldn't a dancer be dancing? Not.. Letting her Fox steal stuff like this.\" Eventually Vayra supposed she was harmless at the very least, a huff escaping her as she tried to reassure Vix with some way of heroic bravado. A smile, and hands soon placed at her hips before gesturing out the way they arrived. \"Mmh, you'll return it? Good! And.. Of course! To make sure I hear some apology, yes!\" \n\nShe supposed a brief guide wasn't anything too straining. If she was blind, as suggested, then Vayra would allow her that kindness atleast. Meanwhile, her gaze went to the other. To Vix, who seemed particularly intriguing to the totally heroic Tiefling. \"You know, that was pretty brave! Who knows what you might have met in this place! Though, I can tell you aren't so simply unarmed.\" Her eyes briefly scanned about the place, waving a brief finger as the familiar purple of her illusions reappeared. \"I'm Vayra, by the way! Vayra Vakara! Illusionist, Adventurer..! And.. Thief Catcher aswell, I guess! Heh.\"" }, { "author": "Victoria 'Vix' Stonespire", "message": "Vix gave a long, slow blink. Was... This concubus trying to somehow make herself a victim here? So what if she needed a break? Vix had needed a break too, but that hadn't meant she had any right to go on stealing others bags! What did she even mean by hide? And why was she acting like she ant this tiefling were somehow going to do something to her? No, she had no intention of reporting her to anyone. That would just waste her own precious time.\n\nThe woman took a small step back, lifting one hand to adjust the lute slung over her back. The strap had started to dig somewhat painfully into her shoulder. She really did need to get a better sling for her instrument, one that wasn't really just a pretty strip of cloth tied around her lute.\n\n\"Fine. I can help get you back there.\"\n\nShe still was hungry anyway. Performing had earned her enough money to buy a meal, and she was damn well going to spend it. Her head turned back to Vayra, lips curling up into a small smile. It wasn't a happy expression, but rather a somewhat awkward little grimace.\n\n\"I had a feeling there was nothing dangerous over here.\"\n\nVix had a sneaking suspicion that this was some sort of patronizing comment, and even if it wasn't, she wasn't going to take the chance. \n\n\"Victoria Stonespire. Just a musician, I'm afraid. Lovely to meet you, Vayra.\"\n\nShe seemed to be more than happy to ignore her previous comment. The young woman lifted her hand to itch at the corner of her eye, earning herself a fingertip stained with white makeup." }, { "author": "Vynixi Settia", "message": "Vynixi would tilt her head as she listened to the Tiefling. She wasn't wrong about how thieves usually were and she wasn't really one most of the time. She was just trying to find a way to live. She didn't have the know of the area or anything to help her out so yes she stole food at times when she was tired.\n\n\"I suppose that is true, I have horns... Yes, I should be dancing but I was tired. I never told my fox to steal a bag, I usually have her only take a piece of fruit and I repay for it later when I actually can earn money. I suppose I'm still a bit unaccustomed to here. Either way your right I shouldn't have been doing such a thing. I guess I will have to move along again once I return this bag, if the person is still in the market that is. Of course, I don't try to ever take anything big, it's always been small things. My fox is still little. Well she doesn't look little but I only recently was able to get her to help me. She acts like a pup most of the time still unless she's leading me around.\"\n\nVynixi would give a smile as she really did want to do something good for herself, it just wasn't something she knew how to do on her own yet. Not after being in a brothel for some years before finally fleeing. She knew her mark was still there from her work but hopefully the one who covered it had done a good job, it took any little money she had for it. Now she lived by any small coin she got from dancing if she was lucky for a day. \"This isn't Khisfire anymore than? But we are still close? I'm afraid I never got the chance to learn any maps so most days I'm simply wondering around.\" She didn't think they would care who she was since they thought of her simply as a thief so she'd keep quiet. She wasn't exactly anyone special anyways. \n\n\"Thank you for helping me get back. I will not be a problem after.\" She had no right to ask either about the musician even if she wanted to ask, she had a feeling they didn't much like her once knowing she stole at times.\n\nWell deserved for the cold shoulder of someone when doing something wrong. She'd though look at the tiefling, maybe she could try being a bit friendly?. \"You do illustration, and adventure? It sounds like you have an interesting life. Do you mind me asking what types? Not that I can actually see any of them right now, but it does sound interesting... I wanted to make a group of performers but I'm finding not many like following a blind nobody.\"" }, { "author": "Vayra Vakara", "message": "The Tiefling seemed to smile at Vix's agreement, the pair now seeming to be together on this brave escort mission. Their destination, only a few steps away! \n\nAnd naturally they would start to move, Vayra stepping forward with a curious glance upon Vyn. And there, the Concubi spoke. An explanation that seemed to go on for far too long. Vayra considered if she was just worried about being labelled a Thief, attempting best to apologise or make her case. Of course, it wasn't she who was stolen from, regardless. An awkward glance went to Vix before returning her attentions.\n\n\"You sure love to talk! Relax, hey? If it's a mistake, then an apology and paying for that fruit will do fine.\" - A beckon her hand evident, a movement to typically try and ease obviously fell on account of that lacking vision.\n\nThe Concubi did truly seem harmless, if not foolish. However inexperienced she seemed, Vayra imagined that she'd learn not to steal. A fox so visible, and coming from someone who danced. A face one might remember, and thus in the future be barred. Regardless, her glance went back to the other woman. Now, she knew her as Victoria! A lovely name, yet rushed past as her mention of a musician brought a particular tone of intrigue. \n.\n\n\"Oh! Just a musician? Shh, there's nothing wrong with that! I'm actually kinda envious. Performances, oh I'd love to do something like that!\" - Vayra replied with a smirk, eyes soon moving to inspect the notable sling on Vix. Of course, an instrument. It seemed to catch her interest immediately, in some places distracting the very steps she created until brief composure found her way. \"And yes, how lovely to meet you. In.. Such a strange place, heh.\"\n\nBy strange, the topic of a tired dancing Thief was brought up in her head. And of course, came more words from the Concubi herself! A brow would perk, tilting her head in slight confusion. \"Uhh.. Illusions, you know! Making sounds, vanishing.. Ooh, I can also make perfect copies of myself! Though uh, not for that long. A group of performers, hm? Maybe if you didn't steal, I don't know!\"" }, { "author": "Victoria 'Vix' Stonespire", "message": "The beastwalker made eye contact with Vayra, though she remained unsmiling. Instead, her eyebrows slowly crept up, eyes widening. Though she was quite certain that the concubus couldn't see her, there was no point in being any ruder than she needed to be. She really didn't know what to make of this apparent dancer's rambling. Was this an attempt at a justification? Or... Something else? She thought it was already quite clear that neither she nor Vayra planned on turning her in. That alone made the entire situation more perplexing.\n\nAt her last comment, the woman made a small noise, something between a snort and a scoff. What did her blindness have to do with it? Was that what she thought the issue was? Perhaps, Vix thought, she'd best clear her name before she made herself look cruel.\n\n\"...As a performer looking for work, I am going to impart just a bit of advice. I, like nearly any other, have no issue with your blindness, nor your lack of noteriety. I have no fame either. What I do have an issue with is the instinct to steal the moment it is more convenient than working. To me, that does not point to an employer that would treat her workers honestly. You say you don't take anything unless you're tired, but everyone is tired. Do you think one who hired you would be understanding if you only stole their food when you were tired?\"\n\nMaybe she'd said a bit too much, but she had tried to keep her tone as neutral as one could when issuing such a scolding. Perhaps it wasn't her place, as she was fairly certain the concubus was older than she and presumably more experienced. However, the concubus more than likely didn't know this. Vix had the benefit of being unseen. \n\nHer eyes slid back to Vayra.\n\n\"Well, magic is always quite the welcome addition to a performance. Music fades to the background, but magic and movement catches the eye and holds attention.\"" }, { "author": "Vynixi Settia", "message": "\"Guess I'm just nervous, I'm trying to make any excuses for what happened. And I don't steal bags. I would have been scolded by my old orphanage if I did something like that. I'm going to give the bag back and make it right. But I will keep from saying anything else on it since it seems you both just think I'm trying to make an excuse.\" \n\nVynixi would just walk as she listened to her bells. She didn't talk to cause pity or seem innocent but the way the one went off she knew they didn't like her.\n\n\"I don't know anything on illustrations so it's just why I asked. I guess curious a bit. I didn't get to meet many who could do things like that... It's a silly dream of an orphan I guess, always thought getting to perform for some king would be exciting, a group of friends to go along always sounded fun with it.\" Vynixi would shrug as it just was something she thought about as a kid.\n\nShe would look towards Vix as she understood their distaste for what was doing at times. \"I don't...\" Vy would sigh as it was pointless to say anything \"Thank you for the advice, I will keep that in mind.\" \n\nShe knew her life wasn't perfect and she knew what it was to perform for a long time and get nothing. But she also didn't trust to be under an employer either because the last one. She hated that they saw her just as some thief that just chose to do only that because it was easy, it wasn't easy for her but not like they would try to understand that she did it for a little than paid back for what she took. Something she knew no one saw from her because she always been labeled as manipulative and deceitful.\n\n\"Thank you for helping me back, I don't know though on who my fox took from I just hope they are still around.\" Vynixi wanted to mess with her tail with her anxiety on this but it was okay she would still get it done than find somewhere to sleep, maybe a tree was close by the town." }, { "author": "Vayra Vakara", "message": "Eventually the view of the hidden alley shifted to the marketplace, out in the open of the Alynthi green. Vayra was quick to guide the trio off to the market center, being sure to reassure any onlookers that the situation was totally under control! \n\nBack within Solaris' embrace, the Tiefling mustered a smile to Vix's words. Magic, oh how right she was. She couldn't help but feel a tinge more interested at the idea of it, enough to distract her from their current quest. \n\n\"A little flash and a cast there, ooh I see what you mean! I think.. I think I feel a little encouraged. Huh!\" The Tiefling added with a snicker to follow, considering ideas until the topic of the Thief once again returned. Her gaze retreating back to Vyn, Vayra watched her with the slightest quirk of her brow. \n\n\"Heh, why are you talking like we're sending you to the gallows..? Tst, you just need to apologise and return that bag! Mmh, maybe your Fox can lead you. Wellll, if he actually wants to help his owner.\" - Vayra had no true ability to understand animals, yet she teased all the same. Ideas of threats or an imposing character seemed to clearly fade from the Tiefling. A fun, cheeky woman full of life seemed a far more fetching description.\n\n\"I'm sure they're around. Hopefully..\"" }, { "author": "Victoria 'Vix' Stonespire", "message": "\"I would think that a king wouldn't want to hire one that would even think of stealing from them.\"\n\nThis was flatly an unpleasant thing to say, and Vix knew it. However, she really couldn't be bothered with being pleasant at the moment. Her evening had been soured, she was hungry, and she wanted to be rid of this situation. Once more, Vix cleared her throat, straightened her spine, and folded her hands behind her back.\n\n\"I too am capable of a few illusions, but they're fairly lackluster. A flash of color there. Perhaps an intriuging image. I... Must say I think creativity, or lack of, is my problem though. Not skill. At least I would hope not.\"\n\nHer eyes slid back to the concubus, waving a hand. Then, after realizing that she couldn't see this, dropped her hand back to her side. There was nothing left to say. Instead, she gave her throat another clear, then lowered her gaze to her feet. She was more than content to simply keep walking." }, { "author": "Vynixi Settia", "message": "\"I'm planning on doing that, I don't think my fox is going to be any help. I don't think she's going to have been watching who she took from.\" Vy would simply listen to the market as she couldn't see if someone was still looking for a bag or not.\n\n\"I wouldn't steal like that, that's why I'm bringing the bag back here. Even if I didn't find the person I would give it to someone to return it to them.\" Vy would just keep her head down as she didn't know why she even was trying. The one thought of her as some big thief that would just steal from anyone, she deserved it some but it didn't mean she wanted to have someone keep on labeling her as a bad person.\n\n\"Do you see anyone?\" Vy would try listening for anyone maybe asking about a bag. Maybe she could make a friend someday to actually help her but for now it seemed like an impossible thing. She would just walk over to a stand try asking about someone looking for a bag, maybe someone would known the person and if they lived by she would just take it to their place." }, { "author": "Vayra Vakara", "message": "Vayra tried best to ignore the back and forths now, the insulting of the Thief seeming to settle in her mind. Of course, Vix and her topic of performance really had the majority of her attention. The Khisfiran Hero, now.. Focused on less of the heroics. Hearing her supposed inexperience with illusions, ideas seemed to ponder in her mind. \n\n\"Ooh..? For me, it's the right headspace. I always struggle to cast when I'm not feeling the moment, you know..? Usually a slight jig or dance helps with that, heh. But, huh! I knew I could sense something familiar on you. How long are you staying in town..?\" - A question that only encouraged the idea of speaking more, Vayra offering her signature fanged smile before allowing the flow of conversation bring her to the next. Of Vyn, who now seemed to be struggling. \n\n\"Oh, by Solaris..-\" Perhaps irritated, Vayra would slightly raise herself by standing upon a most convenient box nearby. Hands wrapped around her mouth, she would call out to a good amount of the market's denizens. Shamelessly, it seemed.\n\n\"Helloooo? Person with the stolen bag! We've found it..! Come, come!\"\n\nEnding her words with a proud smile at the simple yelling, the Tiefling moved quick to jump back to the safety of the ground. A balanced landing, hands returning to her hips. \"There!\"" }, { "author": "Victoria 'Vix' Stonespire", "message": "\"Uh-huh.\"\n\nIt seemed she'd largely lost interest in the thief's excuses, instead having turned her focus to the crowd around her. She didn't quite remember what the victim had looked like, as she'd been more concerned with scaring off the vagrant animal than anything else. It had been entertaining at the time, but it had lead to this mess. Perhaps the lesson to be learned was to mind her own business.\n\n\"Makes sense, I suppose.\"\n\nShe lifted her shoulders in a shrug.\n\n\"Another few days, I suppose. More than likely headed back to Varilon sooner rather than late. Yourself?\"\n\nThere was no reason to mention that she was between jobs at the moment. That would only make her look incompetent. She lifted a hand to fix her hair, then cupped her hands around her mouth.\n\n\"Found a bag! Stolen bag! If it's yours, come get it!\"" }, { "author": "Vynixi Settia", "message": "Vynixi would frown a bit at hearing them yelling but it was whatever she supposed at this point. They wanted to be done with this so they apparently thought just yelling it to everyone would make it go fast. Though all it did was make her feel more anxious as it would draw attention to her and she didn't want that. \n\nShe'd let them keep on calling it out as she just talked with someone else about it. She was just trying to keep her cool as she would wait for if someone would come for the bag. She was just wanting this to be over so she could simply leave the place, she would have to anyways after this because there would be too much on her. \n\nShe'd shake her head as she just talked to some people before finding the one who had the bag. She knew there was many eyes on her for it but she'd just ignore them as she'd talk to the owner, she'd apologize for what had happened and gave a gem earring to pay for the fruit, though it was more than what the fruit cost it was all she had to pay for it. \n\nOnce done she wouldn't care to talk to the others as she felt overwhelmed being in an area where she wasn't being able to see the stares. \"The bag got back to its owner. Hope you both have a good day.\" She'd bow slightly before heading through the crowd as she just needed to get out of the town, she just go find a place to sleep outside and travel back, maybe a brothel was all she was good at. Least it's how it felt in the moment." } ]	345	8,728
204.454545	1776-07-04	GuildPublicThread	[ { "author": "Marghulis", "message": "The road was more flat than the last one, as his wagon finally entered Alynthi borders, and out of the mountainous Gantrick. The landscape changed to show this progression, where once, they were in a land with snow as far as the eye can see, with mountains that create entire walls into the land.\n\n It was all being slowly replaced by a much warmer environment, with fields of green and gold replacing the once cold land, where mountains once held dominance over the land, forests were now overtaking such things.\n\nAnd for Marghulis, he was holding the reins to his wagon, as his armored frame slightly shifted in his seat. It had been a few days since he accepted this quest, and it took a week for them to get from Findara, over to here in the eastern territories of Alynthi, having to pass through Gantrick.\n\nHe looked behind him to check on his passenger, she was scribbling in a small journal, with long red hair that reached just below her chest, long, knife shaped ears poking through the hair, denoting her as an elf. Her request was simple: bring her from Findara to Alynthi, and then tour her for a while.\n\nIt was a simple quest, and one that he accepted after checking all the details. He would bring his wagon, as it was going to be a long journey, and he needed food and shelter for himself. And his wagon was made for this, having the best equipment to suit such a long journey." }, { "author": "yakolicious", "message": ". Just so I see the channe" }, { "author": " -- eloise t. aikatherini", "message": "You see, Eloise was no noble.\n\nShe could never afford the fancy carriage, those silly little butlers that speak in their cute accents. However, she was content with the things she was born into. A simple life in the forest. Though. You can't help but wonder what's on the other side of the fence.\n\nWhich brought her to do this. For past years, she had been saving up to buy a trip to a place she had never been before: Alynthi. She had seen his posters around the place, got in touch and here they were! The poor bodyguard probably was unaware of her schemes but he was still going to double as that silly butler aforementioned. Though, of course she wouldn't push it as far as to command him to bring her things. This was going to be Their Vacation, mostly hers however. \n\nProbably thirty minutes in, the trip was beginning to feel pretty long. In suit, she pulled out a worn out notebook and a charcoal pen. Starting to draw the man. 'Rough features.' She thought carefully as she begun to scribble his appearance down. It was quite hard to go off of memory, so she'd steal glances every now and then. But she had forgotten she had hired a professional, and they had made eye contact.\n\n\"Ah! Hello.\" She greeted with a teethy grin, allowing her pearly canines to shimmer in the spring like weather. \"Was just checking on you, wouldn't want my driver to pass out yeah?\" She chuckled awkwardly, Goodness was she a bad liar." }, { "author": "Marghulis", "message": "He looked back at her after turning to check on the road. He was able to get a side glance at what she was doing, and saw her drawing him. He squinted his eyes to get a better view, he doubted that she knew of his activities, nor of all the things he's done in the shadows. So she wasn't a spy or anything similar to that.\n\nHe then spoke, a deep voice that would have reminded anyone of drums being pounded in a deep cave, echoing across empty tunnels. *\"We'll be making camp in an hour or so, Brerith is still two days away, and the sun is at its highest, and we'll need it while making camp.\"* \n\nIt was a long day, and he already felt faithful slowly creeping into his body. He sighed thinking about how old he was getting. Back in his younger days, he could March for hours without end, but nowadays, even sitting on a wagon for a couple hours was already tiring for him.\n\nHe placed the reins on a wooden horn he had in front of him, as he already made sure that the draft horses he had were moving in the right direction. He moved to go inside the wagon, excusing himself to her, as he checked the supplies in the back, seeing his weapons, and a number of extra stuff he brought." }, { "author": " -- eloise t. aikatherini", "message": "Her pointed ears perked from their burrow of ginger locks, \"Camp?\"* The thing is, she wasn't the most realistic thinker. In fact, she expected that he could just stay awake for days straight. Which, obviously he couldn't do. He was a.. Human? It was probably her hundreds of years catching up to her. Remembering new things and needing to forget the basics.\n\nAs silence filled the air, she decided to tell him something. Super hesitantly. \"I just want to ask, you're okay helping me set it up right?\" She chuckled awkwardly. Now that she was really thinking about it, she was a lady in a cart of a man she barely knew. Ah, memories. Kidding. \"It's alright if not, I can learn.\" She could probably beat him up if she needed to, hopefully." }, { "author": "Marghulis", "message": "\"Do not worry, I can do it myself, if you want to help you can, if you don't it will be alright. I've gotten used to doing things on my own.\"* He said, readying all the materials they will use for making the camp, from an ax, to spikes for the tents, he was prepared for most things when it came to long journeys.\n\nAs he said that, he stayed there organizing every thing they would need, his helmet covered head moving between different pieces, as a small booklet fell from on the storage places. It looked old, the leather faded, as the cover was well used from years of service, within, held his writings, from his years in the army and the border war." }, { "author": " -- eloise t. aikatherini", "message": "\"Do you read sir?\" Eloise had quickly the fallen booklet and took it into account. Her ears and eyes peeled for any potential threat, considering the fact night was falling. \"I have a handful of my library in one of my crates, I could lend you one.\" Eloise tugged her hair into a bun, hiding her fiery locks from the cool of her hood. After all, she'd stick out like a sore thumb.\n\nNight had befallen the quiet forest, the once choir like birds had quieted down into a faint howling wind. \"Hope you don't mind, I'm planning to preform. I need to practice.\" Sheepishly, she smiled at him. And from her pouch, she pulled out a lyre. Carefully placing it atop her lap, her fingertips had begun to pluck at the nylon strings, creating a quiet but peaceful sound. It was a simple melody really, just a few progressions. But what topped it off was her faint humming. It was barely audibly over the carts clicks and creaks, the kind of thing you'd only hear if you Really Looked for it." }, { "author": "Marghulis", "message": "He only gave her a quick nod, as the wagon kept moving, with the clinks of the wheels and the soft, whispering sounds of her music in the ride. With him being silent for a bit, before remembering her asking him about his journal, and her offer to give them books from her own library. *\"It is fine, while I do read sometimes, it would only be wasted on me.\"\n\nHe said, as he took a drink from the waterskin he brought, before taking out another one and offering it to her. While preparing some jerky he had made, wanting to eat a quick meal before he had to hunt for food later on, it was only morning, so he had a lot of time to make camp, and then hunt for some food. Maybe later in the evening, he could try out some carving. He was itching to do so, as it was somewhat similar to his stone carving hobby." }, { "author": " -- eloise t. aikatherini", "message": "Eloise tilted her head at this, \"Knowledge is for everybody. I wouldn't think it's a waste, no. I know so.\" That had only made her insist to give it to him, pulling out a book about herbs. \"I suggest you read this. It has a few jokes here and there, but it could save your life with this kind of information.\"\n\nThe cover was made by textured wool, stitched together by silks. When you brushed your fingers over it, you could smell a hint of mint. At the front, the words 'Herb Basics' in an italic font was displayed. And at the back, it had a small pouch for storing herbs. \"Take it, I have millions of copies on it at home.\" Crawling over to the front of the cart, she placed it safely beside his chair. \"Take it as a tip.\" She flashed him a smile before slipping back into the back cart." }, { "author": "Marghulis", "message": "He looked at the small booklet she gave him. It was an herbology one, something he's never read anything about, as herbs weren't really something he gave much thought about. Especially with his current school of magic, which utilized in death itself, the anti-thesis of life. It was a little ironic, learning how to heal people and use herbs as medicine, while wielding dark magic that could kill and take life.\n\n\"I find it impossible for you to have as you say 'A million' copies of a single book.\"* He said while looking outside the wagon, and saw a rather good place for them to camp out in, he moved to the reins, and diverted them to the area. And in a few minutes, they stopped in a small clearing on the side of the road. And so he began work on the camp, placing the tent for himself, as she'll be staying within the wagon itself. While he traced out areas where he'll be digging a small trench around them, just as a precaution." }, { "author": " -- eloise t. aikatherini", "message": "She softly chuckled, shaking her head as she watched him do hid explorations and set-ups. \"You better believe it. My mother loved to read. I have millions of copies of that same book in my room, all annotated differently in different years of her life.\"* Her eyes seemed to twinkle fondly as she recalled her late mother.\n\n\"Enough about me.\" She began to sift through her curls, straightening them as she watched the sunset reach through the trees. \"Tell me, do you have anything you find as fond as that? Or perhaps are you just a gruff soldier with no heart.\" Her voice gruffed, grinning from ear to ear. How childlike, honestly.*" } ]	201	2,249
439.666667	1776-07-04	GuildPublicThread	[ { "author": "Rhurt Olol", "message": "Hunger. \n\n Every. Full. Moon. \n\n The insatiable hunger. It maddened Rhurt, no matter how much he tried to suppress the primal need for the flesh of animals and mortals alike. Before the moon pulled itself into the night sky, he had eaten so much that the tavern owner had told him to leave, but Rhurt begged to stay because no matter how much he ate or drank, the creature within still hungered. A glutton, a monster that he could not reason with. \n\n How many nights by now? Three? Seven? He was not sure. The change felt fresh and horrible every time it came. Even now, as the burning sensation began to wash over him again, it still felt as though it was the first time all over again. He clawed at his face, tearing through his skin in the hope that the pain would somehow give him control, but he knew it wouldn't because it healed every injury, an insulting gift to he who wanted to die. \n\n Rhurt had gone deep into the forest, away from the towns and villages, away from the children that had run at his side as he lumbered through the streets. They were innocent and did not deserve to see the monster that lurked within, but he feared they were not safe even though he had gone a great distance from their homes. \n\n He cried out, begging the gods to take his life as his mind fell further and further into the savagery that the lycan thrived on, and like all his prayers they went unanswered. \n\n For there was no stopping the hunger. \n\n Changed, Rhurt Olol was gone, trapped.\n\n Now stood the Lycan, a creature of death and rage. \n\n He roared, the sound traveling far and wide, a warning to all who heard it. \n\n And then he began to run towards the very towns he wished to save from this. Towards the very children who did not deserve to see this monster, he had become." }, { "author": "Rathiva Vanathi \| The White Wolf", "message": "Whispers\n\nRumors of a whelp, feral and unguided, had traveled to Rathiva. News such as this was typically brought to her attention promptly, a fellow lycanthrope tearing across Dasvaz could reflect poorly on the tribe. There was even the chance of them being mistaken as one of her own and threatening tenuous ties. With the most senior of her ranks preparing for the events of spring she set out alone to retrieve the rogue. It wasn't only about risks and inconveniences, as chieftess it was her duty to lead the lost soul. To guide them home, or to the afterlife. \n\nRathiva's shift was not painless, but it paled in comparison to her early years. She now embraced it, welcomed the change and the strength it gifted her. The goliath knew which muscles to relax, the way to breathe, the mentality that allowed her to not simply weather the storm but manipulate it to her advantage.\n\nIt was a quick transition, one moment the towering pines framed a woman.\n\nA white mane of partially braided hair, muscles that could pull a tree from the ground like one would pluck a flower, eyes as luminous as the glowing moon above. \n\nThe next moment she was a rippling mass of white fur.\n\nThen at last her form settled, like a lake becoming placid once again after being disturbed by a stone.\n\nShe pressed through the pine branches, their needles raking against her fur. The smell flooded her senses, rich and welcoming. She dipped beneath them, relaxing in a coiled crouch with a deep inhale. \n_ _\n\nThere.\n\nWhile the scent was primarily familiar, that of a lycanthrope, it carried its own distinctive markers. Ones she was unfamiliar with, someone she had not met. The whelp.\n\nA roar ripped through the forest, Rath's head snapped toward its source. Her pointed ears flicked and swiveled, sifting through the sounds of the night. The rhythmic thumping of a beast in full sprint guided her forward. She set all four limbs to work, clawing up dirt as she matched pace. The chieftess was familiar with these lands, it wasn't difficult to deduce his target. \n\nThe distance between them lessened. His mixed emotions made his path more obvious, the scent of lingering fear and fresh rage stung her nose. She caught a glimpse of him through the trees, a blur practically flying over the forest floor, fueled by bloodlust. They would soon cross paths. The earth shook, trembling beneath their weight. Every subtle noise of the night had been silenced. His wild, ragged breaths dotted the air with plumes of chilled breath. The she wolf was steady, calm, controlled. There would be no reasoning with the stranger, not until he shed his wolffish form. Rathiva was left with only one option. \n\nAs the pair at last met, both moving at a seemingly unstoppable sprint, she dug her clawed feet into the rich soil and propelled her massive body into his side. Braced for the consequences of her leap the she wolf snapped at his neck. There was no reason to play nice, he certainly wouldn't." }, { "author": "Rhurt Olol", "message": "In his hunger, and rage, Rhurt did not even realize he was being followed until he was tackled to the ground. Despite being surprised Rhurt managed to save his neck from being bitten off and the two lycans rolled through the dirt in a harsh struggle for dominance until Rhurt managed to kick his opponent off him. He then ran to the side, creating distance between them, facing her with his fangs. \n\n Rhurt looked at his attacker with slight surprise, another werewolf, he had never seen one before. He circled slowly, snarling as he did, an attempt of intimidation which he realized was vain. She was more composed than he was, more sound of mind, while all he suffered was noise. The wolf and the Goliath, both were trapped in a battle for control, the Goliath cries for help within, but the wolf is determined to kill all who stand against him. \n\n Though the werewolf before him seemed more in control, Rhurt stood tall, for beneath the ash fur was a man who survived countless bouts in the arenas of cruel masters. He roared at her and pounced, hoping to slam her down and viciously tear her neck out." } ]	408	1,319
875.2	1776-07-04	GuildPublicThread	[ { "author": "Kameros Szerabon", "message": "It had been a long while since Kameros and Esme had seen one another, and a lot had happened in that time. Before Sorevelle, Kam and Esme enjoyed Thunder Fest in one another's company. But time and their busy lives seemed to get in the way of any further interactions or visits with one another. Kameros had hoped to see Esme at Sorevelle, but was more than relieved to know she wasn't present during it. Whatever it was that had taken the festival hostage, Kameros had gotten out of there as quickly as possible, but not before purchasing a gift for his companion. Since Sorevelle, work had been a bit busier than usual. Everyone had been set on edge and paranoid, and having experienced it for himself Kameros couldn't blame them.\n\nBut today was a day that Kam would take for himself and finally go and visit his friend. In his back pocket, a ring, with it's twin already on his left hand. Kameros had no clue where Esme was, but he had hunch that she'd be in Ardunon's castle. Sorevelle had caused many kingdoms to become more vigilant, and Esme being a guard likely meant she too would be training or working. Kam felt a bit bad to interrupt her, but surely one day wouldn't ruin her regimen, right?\n_ _\n\nNearing the castle, Kameros noticed a sizeable group of people peering through an iron fence. The sounds of armor and swords clashing caused the tiefling's eyes to widen slightly. He neared the crowd and politely pushed his way to the front. Peering through the bars, Kameros was curious to see just who was fighting. Searching for the source of clashing metal, Kam's golden eyes soon fell upon what looked to be two Findaran knights sparring with one another. Watching with a curious gaze, neither had wings, and so Kam soon became uninterested. Scanning what looked to be a training courtyard of sorts, another figure caught Kameros's attention; it was a much younger girl fitting herself with leather armor.\n\nNot Esme.\n\nThere were quite a bit of individuals in the training area, and Kameros had nearly moved on to look for Esme elsewhere when a flash of white caught his attention. Peering beyond a handful of knights, Kameros squinted a bit to see just who it was. In the back of the courtyard was a familiar sight- a small aasimar woman with white wings tipped in brown, horns atop her head and a sword in her hands. A smile appeared on Kam's lips, and he had half a mind to jump over the iron fence but stopped himself. The last thing he wished to do was embarrass his friend. Walking around the iron fence, Kameros soon stopped behind where Esme was training. Watching quietly to not intrrupt her, Kam leaned against the fence.\n_ _\n\nAfter a few moments, Kameros began to whistle, the tune extremely familiar to the two of them. During Thunder Fest, the bounty hunter sung a song for Esme at the Broken Barrel, and she'd no doubt recognize it here and now. Leaning against the fence in a nonchalant manner, Kam continued to whistle, and even pretended as though he didn't see Esme just a few meters away on the other end of the fence. Dressed in his typical attire, the spring air meant Kam could wear similar clothing to that of his Khisfiran wardrobe. \n\nGold was the main theme of nearly all of Kam's outfits, and his current one was no different. Golden earings hung from his pointed ears, chains of gold connecting them to his horns held by bands along the tips. His shirt was a white tunic, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, revealing the black tattoos along his arms. Brown trousers covered his lower half, and at the bottom were black boots. The final point to note was the satchel resting at the tiefling's side, the strap wrapped up and around his shoulder. \n\nThere Kam waited, whistling and scanning over the courtyard, everywhere save for the aasimar he had come to see." }, { "author": "Renesme Faydel \| The Nephalem", "message": "The midday sun bathed the courtyard of Findara in a warm, golden glow as the kingdom's guards littered along the public training field. Many folk would gather around each time this day just to catch a glimpse of some of the most famous fighters, hoping to catch a spare that not only inspired upcoming knights, but awed the citizens of Findara altogether. Pairs of two were assigned to train together, their objective in a sword duel, to disarm the other. While it was a fair enough exercise, the same couldn't be said for every pair of boots on the courtyard.. \n\nRenesme Faydel, a guard in the making, continued her training routine alone. She was stationed in the back of the field with the mesley barrels and straw stuffed dummies with targets painted messily on their chest. Forced to endure a task made for two now built for one. The aasimar liked to believe that it was a punishment for her trials in Khisfire, pursuing a certain purple tiefling that ended up in a visit by not only her older sister, but the king of Alynthi himself. \n\n If it wasn't for Winrae's status and good graces, Esme likely would have never seen the castle of Findara again. Yet even so, part of her wondered if it was all truly worth it in the end. As she was still forced to remain alone day in and day out.. Her trouble making tendencies likely having nothing to do with it. Many of Faydels comrades avoided her simply because of her appearance, as it wasn't normal for an Angel To have such demonic features. \n_ _\n\nLong, swirling horns sat atop the aasimar's head, their existence the first thing someone would see when looking at her. Renesme's teeth held four daggers, and her fingers, natural claw-like nails. Within the first two years of becoming a guard for the Findarans, many joked that she must have been hiding a tail somewhere underneath her clothes. And while the prodding of her presence alone was something most people enjoyed taking part of– none would dare to do it in the wake of Winrae Kaliyah. The winged stag made sure that her sister would be treated with the same respect as she, although, if she were to see where Esme was right now... \n\nA long sigh drew from the angel's nose as her sword Thunked Into the dirt beside her. Esme had been going at the same dummy for over an hour by now, and no matter how hard she try, it wasn't going to fight her back. In truth, the guard wasn't too skilled in swordplay. She was a sorceress after all, and even had her weapon crafted into her strengths. However, today was strictly no magic. The straw sack in front of her cut in wobbled slashes far from the center heart. Taking a seat on an old wooden bench, the girl groaned in frustration as she brought her hands to her face, rubbing the sleep and tenseness from her weary eyes. \n\nStaring down the training props silently, Renesme simply shook her head. The graceful poise of her wings loosening in defeat as they sank to the ground behind her. It all felt like a big joke, like there was no real point in trying. But each time that Em pondered her career, and if it was truly something She Wanted, all Faydel could picture was her older sister's disappointed face... And it was enough to fuel that fire deep in her chest once again. Tightening the light armor straps on her arms, Esme rolled her eyes reluctantly as she picked up her sword and prepared for another attempt. Hoping in the back of her mind that no one was watching...\n_ _\n\nHer long, auburn hair cascaded down her shoulders in waves, catching the in sun as she gracefully moved through her exercises. The shimmering gray glow of her eyes betrayed a mix of determination and sadness, as the rhythmic beat of her wings swept the ground behind her. Sweat beaded on her brow, and with a hardened expression, she unleashed a series of powerful strikes, her wings flaring out with each movement. The courtyard echoed with the sounds of her exertion, and soon she was blurring the line between her blade and the inanimate object, turning it into all the foes she wished to expel. \n\n. . .\n\nIn the midst of her practice, a familiar sound billowed into ear range, a whistle that cut through the air, sending a shiver down Esme's spine. She recognized the tune instantly – the one Kameros Had sung for her during Thunder Fest at the Broken Barrel. It was a melody that had etched itself into her heart, a memory that lingered in the corners of her mind. Esme's body halted to an abrupt stop before her gaze flickered towards the source, those glowing eyes widening with a mixture of surprise and anticipation.\n\nWas he here...? \n\nThe thought alone of Kam was enough to take the breath right from her lungs, his face still burned into her memory. It had been an entire month of wandering, waiting, and nearly driving herself mad over thinking that she was to ever see him again. Winrae had forbidden it from the start, and while Esme was more scared to disobey her than anyone, she couldn't help but get lost in the way she felt with the bounty hunter.. Kameros had shown her a side of the word she had never imagined, told her dreams and aspirations that simply didn't exist to her. His presence was enthralling, and Esme couldn't let that feeling go. \n_ _\n\nThe whistling continued, the melody hauntingly familiar, and Esme's heart raced with conflicting emotions. She couldn't help but wonder if Kameros had forgotten about her, lost in the passage of time. Yet, deep down, a glimmer of hope remained, yearning for him to be there as she whipped her head around with a quickness. There, leaning casually against the fence, stood the tiefling whose presence had become a beacon of warmth and comfort in her world. His golden-themed attire glinted in the sunlight, matching the radiance of his carefree demeanor. \n\nPretending not to notice Esme, Kameros continued his nonchalant whistling, scanning the courtyard as if searching for something. The golden earrings swayed gently from his pointed ears, and the black tattoos on his arms seemed to dance with every movement. Esme couldn't help but feel a flutter in her chest, a mixture of excitement and anxiety at the unexpected reunion.\n\nBut Kameros deliberately avoided meeting her eyes, leaving Esme to grapple with the uncertainty of the moment. Was he truly oblivious to her presence? Or was this some playful game? She hesitated, unsure of whether to approach him or continue with her training. \"K-Kam..?\" Em stuttered, the feeling of his name on her lips almost foreign now. The aasimar felt almost lucid as she looked at him, weighing the thought of it being nothing more than a trick of her exhausted mind. \n\n Nevertheless, the young girl dropped her sword yet again, taking slow and hesitant steps towards the tiefling. Each burrow of her boot into the dirt sent a tingle up her legs, as it was one step closer to Him. Before long, Esme's steps became more confident, and soon she was nearly skipping across the field until her wings sprouted excitedly to greet him. \"Kameros!\" A high shrill exclaimed, and whether or not the man turned to look, he would be met with a tackle as the angel flew over the tall fence and landed right on top of him.\n_ _\n\n\"What are you doing here?! I-I mean Why Are you here? I-!\" Taking a moment to look him over, Esme wasted no time before shoving her arms around the bounty hunter– her head resting just between Kamero's chest and chin. There was a shuddering breath of mixed emotion that the tiefling would no doubt feel radiating off of her; Faydel's chest quivering as she murmured the words almost to herself, \"I thought i'd never see you again...\"" }, { "author": "Kameros Szerabon", "message": "Oh Kameros, you playful fool.\n\nBelieving he was clever in ignoring the aasimar, Kameros failed to realize that Esme cared little for personal space, and was quickly surprised when she tackled in. Thankfully he was able to catch himself by shoving a heel into the dirt path, but only just. Feeling the sorceress throw her arms around him, Kameros returned the embrace with a grin on his face. Careful not to hurt Esme's wings, Kam couldn't help but laugh as she uttered her surprised words. Allowing but a moment of silence between the two as they continued to hug, the tiefling gently pulled away but not too far. Looking down at the angel before him, Kam offered a smile. \"I wanted to come and see you.\"\n\nKameros looked down into Esme's eyes, his own a golden hue of sunshine now that Solaris was shining high above them. \"I'm sorry it took me so long to visit-\" The tiefling eyed Esme's wrist, and much to his suspicion the band he had given her was missing. \"-it's been busy since that fuss in Thyseer and you've not exactly been easy to pinpoint.\" There was a tinge of sadness in his final words. Had Esme discarded the band because she no longer wished to see him? Was she angry with him? Pushing those thoughts aside as best he could, Kameros eyed the courtyard Esme had flown over, a handful of other knights eyeing the pair and whispering to one another.\n\n_ _\nThe bounty hunter did nothing but meet any gazes that came his way with a stern look, but his main focus was on Esme. There was a faint grin on Kam's face, that signature playfulness swimming within his golden eyes. In truth, Kameros hadn't stopped thinking about Esme since their last meeting. It had been forever, or at least it felt like. Each time he was feeling stressed or down, he'd think of Esme. Facing a tough bounty that filled with him uncertainty? Kam thought of Esme. She filled him with a calmness, a feeling that everything would be okay. She inspired him to return to searching for his sister even, though he had yet to secure any leads.\n\nLooking down at the aasimar before him, Kam tilted his head downward toward her in an attempt to get more on her level. Now, the tiefling's face was only a handful of inches from Esme's, his white hair tangling down into both of their faces. Lowering his voice so the nosy Findaran knights nearby couldn't hear, Kam darted his eyes between the sorceress's. \"What do you say we get out of here. Hungry? My treat.\"" }, { "author": "Renesme Faydel \| The Nephalem", "message": "Kameros's warm, boisterous laugh reverberated from his chest and into Esme's ears– that were now flushing pink along with her blushing face. Feeling his strong arms embrace her, the angel's wings batted a few beats before resting along her back, happy and content. Faydel almost couldn't believe this reality, that he was here– Willingly To see her. As the spring breeze caught wind of the two, dancing between the tieflings bundled hair and jewelry, Esme melted into Kams chest even more as the smell of fresh coconut and sandalwood stirred around her. She could never describe the feeling herself, but to the aasimar, Szearbon smelled like home. \n\n After the pair reunited, Renesme pulled back to get a good look at him. Although her sheepish nature would only allow her eyes to settle anywhere other than the male's golden hues, Em couldn't help but smile as she caught flashes of his wide, sparkling toothy grin. A flurry of butterflies felt like a stampede in her stomach– all buzzing to get out as they tickled her sides. \"I'm glad you came, it was honestly getting really gloomy without you around to entertain me~\" A giggle played from the angel's lips as she collapsed her arms in one another, swaying back on her heels a moment if only to occupy her nerves. \n_ _\n\nWhen Kameros trailed off, his gaze searching over her only to settle on a barren wrist, Renesme caught that disappointed look and quickly snatched her hands behind her back– A saddened expression filled with guilt blooming from her rose bud lips and glistening gray eyes. \"Yeah.. After that night with my sister i- i accidentally broke the tracking bracelet you gave me...\" Faydels' brows knitted together as she lowered her chin to the ground– the poor girl seeming as though she was going to burst into tears. \"I'm so sorry Kam, I don't want you thinking I treat anything of yours like trash– It was an honest mistake and I still feel horrible about it...\" Her tone swelled with regret and shame, almost like a lump she couldn't bear to swallow. If there was one thing Esme was– it was that she cared so deeply for things, no matter how big or small. \n\n The aasimar was far too troubled with her guilty conscience to catch the glimpses of her peers from around the courtyard, and thankfully so. Had Esme seen their judgmental stares she would have no doubt cowered under the pressure. Nevertheless, Kameros was always watching out for her, even if she was oblivious to it. Em could have gone on for hours about just how sorry she was for the bracelet he had given her, however it was quick to come to a stop once the tiefling closed the small space between them– His head inclining towards the angel– Making Renesme's body grow tense. \n_ _\n\nCut off of another mid sentence, Esme's breath retracted back in her throat like a small, soft gasp. She was forced to look up at Kameros, his honey dew gaze melting into her pool of stars. There was a rising heat budding from the young girl's cheeks, spreading across her face until it reached the tips of her pointed ears. As the bounty hunter loomed closer, his lips inviting themselves dangerously close to her own– Em's eyes fluttered between them and those devilish hues. Her instincts managed to draw herself away a few inches, if only for some much needed breathing room. Nevertheless, the guard nodded in agreement, a smile of pure bliss forming on upturned lips." }, { "author": "Kameros Szerabon", "message": "\"Sweetheart, there's no need to apologize.\" Kameros shook his head with a smile, doing his best to ward off any sad or worried feelings growing in the angel's chest. The last thing the bounty hunter wanted was to upset Esme after not seeing her for such a long while. Kameros found himself staring a bit at the way she blushed when he spoke to her and smiles up towards him. The tiefling would be lying if he didn't find it the least bit adorable. \"Well, do you need to do anything before we head off?\" Kameros hadn't eaten since waking up earlier that morning, his stomach in knots for obvious reasons. He was already contemplating on where they'd go to eat, and when the Broken Barrel popped into his head he found himself smiling even bigger.\n\nThey'd skip out on it for now.\n\n_ _\n\"There's a nicer tavern this side of Ardunon. I don't know if the inkeep at the Broken Barrel wants me back there any time soon, even if that was a month ago.\" Kameros ran a hand up behind his head and let out a faint laugh, the memories of Thunder Fest filling his head. It was a wonderful knight, save for an especially racist elven man Kam had to put in his place. Although he was a bounty hunter, Kameros hated being violent outside of necessary situations. It only perpetuated the dozens of negative stereotypes about his race. It was less common in Findara, given the royal family were tieflings as well- that didn't seem to stop that bastard during Thunder Fest, however.\n\nIt was in defence of a woman's honor, and Kameros's own all things considered. He knew Esme could handle herself- their initial meeting was proof enough of that. There was a small, tiny bit of Kam that wished to have something of a rematch, without Esme's crazy sister interrupting them. Maybe the sorceress would take him up on it some time, though that night in Thunder Fest still swam around in Kam's mind. It ended perfectly, the two watching the fireworks as night swallowed Lucidien whole. Esme fell asleep towards the end of it, a memory that Kameros had kept with him each day since. The reminiscing however was halting their day together, however.\n\nThe two had lunch to eat, and Kameros had a gift for his angelic companion. The sooner they left the better." } ]	752	4,376
509.107143	1776-07-04	GuildPublicThread	[ { "author": "Henryk", "message": "Capital Findara, a graveyard.\n\nThe chilly morning air licked upon his pale skin. His ice cold eyes had been staring off distantly, as the raven haired man had lit a pipe, drawing smoke into his lungs before exhaling. Doctor Henryk stood in front of a pair of familiar graves which belonged to a father and a daughter. His mentor, Doctor Eiher, was laid to rest here, along with the Doctor's daughter, Elena.\n\nHenryk came all the way from Lazaroth, through Wayshrine, to be here today. It has been awhile since he last visited the gravesite— but he hadn't done so with much glee. No, he looked at Dr. Eiher's grave with some resentment. He was a man he trusted, but, he cast him out. That old Sun Elf couldn't live with the idea that his daughter fell in love with a Half-Human. Although he was treated with kindness, Henryk knew Dr. Eiher saw him as a commodity. A Half-Human subject to show off to his peers.\n\nEven though Dr. Eiher's will and testament, at the end of the day, belonged to Henryk, he couldn't forgive what had happened. The years he lost with Elena— the time he could've spent with her. They hadn't known it, but her time was _short._ Disease is a slow killer, and her affliction wasn't one that Dr. Eiher could heal. No, the powers of Equivalent Exchange not only took Elena's life, but Dr. Eiher's as well.\n\nNow, Henryk stood in front of the graves of two people who were, in a way, family. But he had felt somewhat guilty to Elena. She was the first woman he fell for, and although she's gone, and has a place in his heart, he belonged to someone else.\n\nHe came to not only pay respects, but to also beg for forgiveness. For his heart was now held by the Lazarothi Duchess. Someone who understands him. Someone who he loved deeply.\n\nHe drew more smoke, before exhaling.\n\n\"I hope you may forgive me, Elena.\" Henryk had simply said, making a sigh." }, { "author": "Doctor Jones", "message": "It was a strange thing to think that the old man was actually gone. After having lived for so long, Doctor Jones had almost thought him immortal. Of course, they knew he wasn't actually immortal, but it was confrontational in a way, the thought that even those that seemed so invulnerable could just die one day. Just like they would. Likely not today, likely not tomorrow, hell, it might be a few centuries away still, but some day, they would be gone. It felt... Weird.\n\nThey'd made it a habit to check up on the man periodically. Though they'd never talked to him out of fear of what he would say, once every decade or so, the Doctor would ask around and see if he was still walking around the planet. They did the same with their parents, and the two of them were still alive, but Dr. Eiher... Apparently, he was gone. Two years ago. And they'd had no idea, until now.\n\nThe early morning made it so it was awfully quiet, with few people in the graveyard - Doctor Jones didn't mind that very much, they preferred the peace. More problematic was the cold air, which they were not at all dressed for, their long, thin overcoat barely doing anything to protect them from the chilly wind, no matter how tightly they wrapped it around themself. When had it turned to winter? Last they remembered, it was somewhere near the end of summer. Had time really slipped by them that swiftly?\n\nIt seemed that there was but one other person in the vicinity, a man that appeared to be smoking a pipe, right in front of Doctor Jones' destination. Of course. What a pain...\n\nThe Doctor sighed to themself, and tried not to shiver too much as they approached, gaze fixated on the grave and not the stranger. They had little desire to talk to him, so they didn't, only looking down at the tombstone. Indeed, two years ago.\n_ _\n\nFrankly, Doctor Jones had no idea what to think or feel. Sadness? Anger? Confusion? No words seemed able to capture their inner mindstate. Maybe 'conflicted' was it. Well, whatever. It didn't really matter, did it? The man was dead now, and there wasn't anything they could do about it." }, { "author": "Henryk", "message": "Dr. Henryk glanced to the other. There it was. A face painted with conflicted emotions. He could recognize it from a mile a way— after having dealt with so many patients and their family members in the past. It's hard not to recognize the maelstrom of feelings one has swelled within their heart.\n\n\"Did you know them?\" The doctor asked, his gaze shifted from Jones back to the set of gravestones. \"Dr. Eiher and his daughter?\" He would clarify, making sure the pair were on the same page.\n\nWhile one was feeling a _certain way,_ Henryk tried his best to exercise his cold, dead expression. He's done it for years— in order to keep himself guarded from the horrors. Although admittedly, pieces of himself were lost with the Eiher family's passing. Those parts of him gone simply made it easier to dissociate. To melt into the world, and to blend into which divides.\n\nHenryk's first assumption was to assume this was a client of Dr Eiher's, or perhaps a friend Henryk never had the luxury to meet. Those were the two logical conclusions he came too, considering that this individual seemed to feel... _Passionately_ for a man he felt a certain disdain for." }, { "author": "Doctor Jones", "message": "And of course the stranger was speaking to them. Well, it was a nice distraction from the cold, and the many thoughts rushing through their head, thoughts that Doctor Jones thought they'd locked away safely centuries ago.\n\nThey shot a quick glance at him, then looked back to the grave, trying to keep their face as neutral as possible - well, neutral in their case meant more exhausted-looking than actually neutral. It wasn't entirely successful, their conflicting emotions were obvious to anyone that had experience with reading people.\n\nDoctor Jones didn't exactly have many assumptions about the man. They'd only ever really cared about ailments, not the people hiding behind them, and so they weren't trained in reading people. Still, they were a little curious what this person's relationship to the man they once called their mentor was, and the daughter he spoke of.\n\n\"Many lifetimes ago,\" They muttered in that low voice of theirs, sounding as if they were carrying the weariness of several centuries upon their back. \"Didn't know he had a daughter, though.\" They turned their gaze to the other grave, examining the dates upon it. Born long after they'd last spoken to the man, it seemed. \"How'd you know him?\" The Doctor pulled their thin coat a little tighter around themself, trying to maintain the little body heat they had left. Maybe it was risky, trying to talk to this man, maybe he'd been told of their tale, but... Well, whatever. It hardly mattered." }, { "author": "Henryk", "message": "Henryk would draw a long drag of smoke, before letting out a lengthy exhale. He listened to what the other had to say— someone who Eiher knew a long time ago it seems. Elves did tend to live for a long time. Shame Eiher's time had ran short. \n\nDr. Henryk would raise his chin up slightly as he let the cold breeze tickle his face, before finally responding. \"He taught me alchemy.\" Was what Henryk had to say. He placed the pipe to his lips, inhaling again, letting the smoke smoulder before releasing it from his mouth. \"I was his last apprentice.\" He then added. The Half-Human would tip the burnt hash onto the ground before stomping it out. The raven haired man with icy blue eyes would twist fully to the other. Hardly bothered by the cold. Looking at those eyes— there was something steeled within him. He was a doomed man, someone whose bore witness to tragedy first hand.\n\nThough most notably, he appeared to be perfectly human. No pointed ears, no odd discolourations within his skin, neither did he have a tail not horns. No, he looked authentic to the human form. A marvel most would seek to enslave and keep as an exotic pet.\n\nHe began to make brief paces. It seemed he was ready to leave. However, before he fully walked away, he looked over to the shivering other. \"...Here, take these.\" He would dig from his pocket and offer Dr. Jones what seemed to be two small bags that were knit shut.\n\n\"If you hold these in your hands and shift them around, they generate heat. They're popular in Lazaroth and Gantrick.\" The Doctor briefly explained— although he seemed reluctant to offer these, he figured that he would show a hand of generosity. Not for Eiher, but because Elena was certainly watching." }, { "author": "Doctor Jones", "message": "So the man had taken on other apprentices after them? That... Wasn't too surprising, actually. He always did seem like he wanted to teach, Doctor Jones just wasn't interested in what he had to say after realizing it wouldn't aid their cause.\n\n\"He taught me too,\" They muttered, gazing down at their hands. So pale and thin, it was surprising how little they'd changed over the centuries. \"A long, long time ago.\" He taught my hands to heal, before I stained them in blood. Those words went unspoken, though judging from the way the Doctor paused to close their eyes for a moment, inhaling shakily, the thoughts that entered their mind were far from pleasant.\n\nThey curled their hands into fists and stuffed them into their pockets, gaze kept low. \"Guess it doesn't matter anymore. He's gone now.\" They looked back at the stranger, eyes darting around him exploringly, never quite lingering on any body part for more than a few seconds. So this man had been one of Eihar's apprentices too, huh. Seemed like the old man sure knew how to pick the worst apprentices. A man that looked so human that there was no doubt his life had been doomed from the start, and one who would go down in infamy for their horrifying, torturous experiments.\n\nDoctor Jones watched as the man started to leave, and was fully expecting him to do so, very much aware that they didn't make for particularly interesting company, but much to their surprise, he actually turned back and handed them... Something. What was that?\n\nQuietly, they held the bags in their hands, one held in each. That was... An unexpected kindness. Why? Part of them wanted to decline, but on the other hand, they really needed the heat. \"...Thank you,\" The doctor muttered, absently doing as they were instructed. Would it really work? Well, it was worth a try." }, { "author": "Henryk", "message": "\"Oh?\" Henryk paused. \"Another man of the cloth?\" Henryk spoke with a sudden inquisitive tone. A brow visibly raised as he took intrigue. \"...How about we walk and talk. A gravesite is hardly a place for conversations. That— and I know a few taverns in Findara that are significantly warmer than the outdoors.\"\n\nHenryk invited the other along— a show of kindness again. The Half-Human, although hosting a hard, cold exterior, seemed to be a man of altruism. A certain generosity flowed from him. He certainly was a character, to say the least.\n\nWhen those how bags were held, and the insides were shifted about, it generated a gentle heat against Dr. Jones's palms, providing some comfort for the shivering individual.\n\nWhen Henryk began to walk again, he would speak. \"My name is Doctor Henryk. A pleasure to make your acquaintance.\" He would speak. \"I use to live in Findara, but I serve a Duchess in Lazaroth now. What about you?\" \n\nHenryk stuffed his gloved hands into the pockets of his purple leathered coat— fur lining his collar. The emblem of the Hanging Tree of Syvathere— the symbol of House Argith pinned to his chest, and over his heart." }, { "author": "Doctor Jones", "message": "Well, going with the man certainly beat standing out here in the cold, freezing to death, so the Doctor agreed with a nod, once more curling their arms around themself, this time with those bags that offered them a little bit of warmth. A tavern, eh? It had been a while since they'd been in one of those - at least half a century, maybe more.\n\n\"I wouldn't say that, exactly,\" They returned to his earlier question. \"Not really a man, or... Of the cloth. I just... Help people out where I can.\" Were it not for others having assigned them that title, Doctor Jones likely wouldn't even be calling themself a doctor. They were just someone trying to make up for their unforgivable sin, after all.\n\nAbsently, they followed the man, letting him lead them wherever, it didn't really matter. Any place would be better than the cold, desolate graveyard. Part of them did hope that he'd lead them to a warm place soon, this was no temperature for people to exist in.\n\n\"Doctor Jones,\" They replied, \"And likewise.\" Lazaroth, eh? That explained why he was so well-prepared for the cold - and the cold explained why Doctor Jones had never been there. \"I just wander around the land, but I do have a house in this country.\" No mention of where they came from, though, it wasn't something they were happy to share.\n\nThey didn't take note of the emblem pinned over his heart, mostly because they didn't recognize it. Politics wasn't something the Doctor had ever been interested in, and so recognizing individual houses was not something they cared about either - hell, they'd find it difficult to recognize the symbols of most countries. \"What brought you to Lazaroth?\" They asked with some amount of curiosity. Money? It usually was that." }, { "author": "Henryk", "message": "\"Oh— Apologies.\" Henryk didn't realize they were, well, not a \"Man\" Of the cloth. Suppose they had rather androgynous features, he shouldn't have assumed. \n\nHe cleared his throat. \"A pleasure, Doctor _Jones._\" He would say, still trying to discern if they identified as a woman, or just preferred not to be addressed as either. He wasn't particularly versed with handling individuals who assign themselves with a pronoun— usually his callous nature didn't allow for him to care enough. It was either male or female when handling clients— certain ratios of medication are dictated by these distinct features, which is why he hardly ever considered the notion, from a societal point, someone may want to be referred as _something else._\n\nHe would respect Dr. Jones for being whoever they wanted to be.\n\n\"I was charmed.\" Henryk responded. \"The Lazarothi Duchess I serve had shown me the merits of what a true matriarch is like. Coin is nice, however, it's through her my dreams can become a reality— It was the value of her character that coaxed me into entering her servitude.\" \n\nThere was a brief pause, as his head looked back to the graves, then back to Doctor Jones.\n\n\"And I love her.\" \n\nHe would then add in a matter of factly tone. He wasn't in Lazaroth— it didn't matter what Doctor Jones knew. He was free to express what he desired. He wanted to _say it._ Not imply it, or pussyfoot around the topic. No. He loved her.\n\n\"...Under her employ, I'm developing home remedies utilizing easily grown ingredients and producing ways to manufacture these remedies en masse. My intent is to make medication more readily available for any and all, so that Biomancers can focus their attention on those who're in deep need.\" Henryk had explained his goals, and work, to Doctor Jones. \"I've produced some scholarly articles, if you wish to read about my works.\" Henryk had spoken thus, inviting Jones to read his works. \"I would appreciate the criticism of another Doctor.\" He'd add." }, { "author": "Doctor Jones", "message": "\"It's fine,\" The Doctor replied with a vague shrug, content with dropping the matter there. Truth be told, they didn't particularly care how they were addressed - male, female, both, neither - there were more important things for them to worry about. If Henryk saw them a certain way, well, what would they care? Frankly, they hadn't even planned on correcting him about the matter, it was just something that had slipped out unintentionally, as words often did.\n\nIt wasn't easy to pinpoint their gender. Elves were already one of the more difficult races to figure that out with, and the loose-fitting clothing Doctor Jones wore conveniently hid any obvious signs they were leaning either way. Looking at them from one angle, one could assume male, from another angle, one could assume female, but there was no way to be sure without either being highly inappropriate, or just asking.\n\nListening to what Henryk said, the Doctor found themself somewhat curious at his words. The value of her character, eh? Suspicions were brewing about the true meaning of his words - and then he confirmed them immediately. He loved her. It was that simple. \"That does sound quite nice,\" They muttered absently, though another question did come to mind, one they didn't hesitate asking. \"And does she love you back?\"\n\nLove. It was a feeling Doctor Jones was curious about, simply because they never experienced it themself. By now, they weren't even sure if they could feel it at all - it sure as hell didn't seem that way. In all their life, there wasn't one person that had managed to capture their heart, and it didn't seem that was about to change. Oh well.\n_ _\n\nHis next words did capture their interest a lot more, as the Doctor turned their head to look at Henryk. There was something there in their eyes, a spark of curiosity chasing away their usual dullness. \"That is a very noble goal indeed,\" They spoke, nodding along. \"Helping the masses instead of only individual people... It'll be able to prevent a lot of suffering.\" It was something they'd thought of, of course, but they didn't have the funds nor power to actually make it happen. \"I'd gladly read those. Admittedly, alchemy isn't my strong suit, but I am more than willing to learn, and help out however I can.\"" }, { "author": "Henryk", "message": "Henryk smiled.\n\n\"Yes. She does.\" He stated it matter of factly. He knew it to be true— was it something of delusion, or was it reality?\n\nHenryk knew, whether it was real or not. Behind closed doors, away from prying eyes, the two shared each other. _Love_ is powerful. It can bring worlds together, or tear worlds asunder. To mend, or to rend. Henryk's motivations drew not only from tragedy, nor pain, but also his love for the Duchess. \n\n\"...Yes— I believe that was what Dr. Eiher wanted from me, before passing. Maybe not specifically _this,_ but he was a man who knew a legacy was important. When Elena died— may the Gods bless her soul —he had nobody else to entrust his will and testament too.\" Henryk would briefly explain. \"We had a falling out, but, he left his will to me. Perhaps it's a cruel curse, or a way to apologize for our differences. Whatever it may be... _This_ is what _I_ want to do.\" Henryk said— it seemed more he was telling that too himself. A affirmation that yes, this _is_ what he wants. Not the pressure of Dr. Eiher being placed onto him.\n\nThen curiosity got to him. \"...If Dr. Eiher didn't teach you Alchemy, what _did_ he teach you?\" He was now curious. He knew Dr. Eiher as a brilliant Biomancer, who taught him both the Healing and Poisoning arts of Alchemy. However, perhaps in a different era, he was something else. Perhaps something more benevolent? Or perhaps sinister?\n\n_\"Who are you, Doctor Jones? What sorts of tricks did Eiher teach you?\"_ Doctor Henryk thought to himself— words which would be left unspoken.\n\nHe continued to walk, as the graveyard's entrance was fast approaching. Those bags of heat were awfully toasty in Dr. Jones's hands.\n\nHenryk pondered on where to take Dr. Jones for warmth. \"Have you ever tried _coffee_ before?\" Henryk had asked. \"I know a place that serves these tea-like beverages from Kandagulu— I'm sure you'd enjoy it's taste. Or, rather, at least it's ability to invigorate the soul.\"" }, { "author": "Doctor Jones", "message": "The Doctor observed Henryk's face for a moment, watching his smile as he said his simple answer. Was it actually true, or just something he'd deluded himself into thinking? Did it matter? The man seemed happy, and that was the end of it, was it not? \"I see,\" They replied simply, trying to think of another question to ask but coming up empty. Maybe later.\n\nListening quietly to his words, they absently shifted the position of the bags of heat, wondering what they were made of. Well, whatever. What mattered was that they were keeping the Doctor from freezing in this blasted cold. They really should learn to pay attention to the changing of the seasons, and maybe put on some proper warm clothes before going out.\n\n\"So will his name be mentioned in your papers?\" They asked, somewhat curiously. If it was about the man leaving a legacy, then it would make sense if Eiher wanted at least some of it to be named after him, but if the falling out was as bad as Henryk made it seem, then perhaps he wouldn't be mentioned, left to be forgotten in the history books.\n\nThat question of his was something that made the Doctor pause as they averted their gaze, considering how to answer it. \"I wasn't his apprentice for very long,\" They said eventually with a faint shrug, \"He didn't teach me what I wanted to know. Plus, it was...\" Another pause, and a slight furrowing of their brow as they tried to remember how long it'd been. \"Two, two and a half centuries ago. Even if I were to have been with him for longer, I doubt I'd remember much nowadays.\" In their long life, three years was nothing, barely the blink of an eye. A mere percentage of their current lifespan, and one surrounded by so many other tragedies as well... To Doctor Jones, it was no surprise they barely remembered it.\n_ _\n\nStill, the old man represented a part of their life where they were still young and naïve, thinking they could cure the world's most difficult ailments. And now with him gone, they were ever further removed from that time, that part of themself, and it became evermore impossible to get it back.\n\n\"Coffee?\" They echoed. Now that was rare, to hear someone bringing up that stuff. \"I've had it, yes. Not nearly as often as I'd like. Didn't know they sold it around here.\" It was one of Doctor Jones' favorite beverages, not because of the taste - they hardly noticed taste at all - but because it was one of the few things that could actually make them feel awake. \"How far away is this place?\" Maybe they should come back here more often, then, if only to refill their ever dwindling stash of coffee beans without having to travel so far." }, { "author": "Henryk", "message": "Henryk already knew what he wanted. \"I'd like a coffee. _Black._ That will be all.\"\n\nOnce asked, and presumably Jones made their order, Henryk would speak to them. \"So... _Doctor_ Jones... Care to enlighten on what you've learned to merit the title of doctor?\" Henryk asked. Getting to the punch. He wanted to know what sort of healing arts Jones employed, and if he himself could potentially use such knowledge for his own works." }, { "author": "Doctor Jones", "message": "It was impossible to miss that there was some bad history there between Doctor Henryk and his mentor, and Doctor Jones couldn't help but wonder why - as far as they remembered, the old man was friendly enough.\n\n\"Suppose not,\" They muttered, though finding it to be a bit of a false equivalence. It was the man's life project, after all, while a pickaxe manufacturer made hundreds of practically identical ones - but then again, it wasn't their place to care. There was something they were curious about, though. \"So what happened between you two? Most I know don't consider being left a will a cruel curse.\"\n\nThe Doctor fell quiet as they were handed the paper, reading through them as they walked - making a start, at least. It wasn't possible to go through the entire thing yet - or maybe it would be, if they weren't looking through it so thoroughly.\n\n\"This part here,\" They said, pointing at one of the many ingredients. \"Might be good for Lazaroth because Iciran is common there, but it's impossible to get everywhere else. I'd suggest replacing it with Allolt if you want to publish this in the rest of the world. Slightly less effective, maybe, but at least people can get it easily.\" They paused, then added, pointing slightly lower in the list; \"And I'd slightly reduce the amount of Karcalik. Causes digestive problems if taken in too large quantities.\" Another pause as the Doctor scanned over the page again. \"The rest looks good, though. Of course I'll have to sit down and take a proper look at it to be sure, but you know what you're talking about.\"\n\nFor someone claiming to not be an expert in alchemy, Doctor Jones sure knew a lot about it - though that could just be a case of having been around and in the medical field for so long. They might be good at it when compared to other short-lived races, but when it came to the matter of elves, they were closer to a novice. It was all a matter of perspective.\n_ _\n\nThey didn't look around the café too much, just focused their attention on following Henryk, and after the two doctors were seated at the table, examining the menu, scanning through it quickly. \"I'll have a coffee with as much sugar as you're allowed to give me, and...\" Doctor Jones paused shortly, gaze landing on one of the snacks - not because it looked particularly appetizing, but because it looked cheap. \"Three Ochiowesh Buns.\" It was practically the cheapest thing on the menu, which meant that it was perfect to fill their stomach - taste had never been something they particularly cared about.\n\nOnce the waitress left, the Doctor allowed themself to relax slightly, soaking in the warmth of the place as they leaned back in their chair, finally looking around and absently pocketing the heat packets. It was quite nice here, they had to admit that. They should keep this place in mind, even if they did feel incredibly out of place here.\n\nUnfortunately, Henryk didn't seem to want to let them relax for long, immediately firing at them with a question, and a rather annoying one at that. Doctor Jones let the silence linger for a few moments as they pondered on what to say. Well, whatever, they thought with a sigh. Surely he would understand, as a 'man of the cloth'.\n_ _\n\nLeaning forward, the Doctor made sure that no one else was looking, and then placed their hands in front of them on the table, palms facing each other to form a small protective wall that no one could look into, no one but the man sitting in front of them. There was a short pause, and then, a slight tremor in the fingers of their left hand, the middle finger twitching slightly - and suddenly, the skin of their right wrist parted, a small slit forming. Coming directly from the vein, a small string of blood emerged, swirling around in the tiny hidden space, guided by the fingers on their left hand that seemed to be trembling. In a few seconds, the Doctor drew a few surprisingly complex figures, and then the blood simply returned to its place in their wrist, and a moment later, the injury was gone, looking like it had never been there at all.\n\nWith the small demonstration done, Doctor Jones once more sat back in their chair, arms crossed, and looked at Henryk, saying nothing, just gauging his reaction, eyes sharp and calculating. Their power was evident - the forbidden art of hemomancy, but also biomancy, the way their skin had simply closed up was impossible through blood magic alone. Though... Was it just a simple demonstration? The implicit threat was hard to miss. If they found it that easy to pull out their own blood, what was to say they couldn't do the same with Henryk's, should he choose to try to tell anyone here what was happening? The Doctor doubted he would - but it was always good to remind people that they weren't just some tired nobody, that there was real strength in that frail body of theirs." }, { "author": "Henryk", "message": "\"His daughter and I were involved. He didn't appreciate that.\" Henryk would place it rather simply. Although with that simple phrase, he would briefly look to the brick road of the graveyard, and to his wandering feet with a look of albeit brief contemplation.\n\nHenryk took what Jones had to offer in stride. He would simply gleam a smile, as he listened to what the other had to offer. \"Someone is underselling their understandings of the alchemical arts.\" Henryk spoke in this jovial tone. He would take the research paper back, before looking his ingredients over again. \"One of the individuals credited on this article, a Druid whom happens to be a Dryad as well had been the one to help be conceive these recipes. I'll be sure to pass them the recommendations and test the next batch utilizing what you've shared.\" \n\nThe Doctor, when they sat down from the outside, took out his ink-and-pen. He'd write into his own research article the recommended ingredients, keeping them to heart and mind. It was evident he wasn't going to simply listen and disregard— he was genuine in his works. Thus why he wrote. \n\nAnd so, when he beckoned his question, the devil would reveal itself. Henryk paused in his note taking at the table. His icy blue eyes would watch as Dr. Jones's blood danced from their slit wrist. Hemomancy. When the blood retreated back into the other's body, and the slit sealed with a Minor Biological Repair, Henryk had a few thoughts coursing through his head, but, the forefront of his mind asked this: \"Are you a Doctor who deals with healing? Or with death?\" Henryk asked— although admittedly it was a rather vague question, if Jones was to place enough thought into it, they'd extrapolate what Henryk meant. Did Dr. Jones use their hemomancy to heal, or did they use it to kill?\n\nHenryk knew it was a forbidden art— he lived in Findara for so many years, it's hard _not_ to know that both Necromancy and Hemomancy were banned practices of magic. However, Henryk hadn't been so quick to judge. How was his use of animal organs any better then using the blood of one self or another? He used his own blood in the past to create a antivenom for one in need— he remembered that day vividly, as Vierna was there.\n\nNo, he wouldn't judge. He wouldn't condemn the other. In fact, from his face alone, it all but spelled intrigue. A yearning to _learn._ Henryk wasn't a powerful innate caster— no, all his most powerful Biomancy came from his alchemy. He could deploy minor incantations, thanks to the infernal blood which laid hidden within his being, but it was hardly enough to grant him a position as a supreme sorcerer of sorts. No, he was a lowly alchemist— but a talented one.\n\nDr. Jones could teach something to Henryk. He wondered how the other applied their art— and he prayed it was for healing." }, { "author": "Doctor Jones", "message": "Involved, hmm? A vague statement, but the Doctor had been around long enough to guess what it meant. A father who didn't like his apprentice and his child being together - it was an oddly common occurrence, and thus, not very interesting.\n\n\"That's just my initial thoughts,\" Doctor Jones said with a vague shrug. \"Like I said, I'll have to look over it properly. But I suppose it's hard to do that on an empty stomach.\" They could've given more notes, had Henryk not taken back the paper. Well, whatever. Wasn't their research, was it?\n\nIt was interesting, the way he actually wrote down their suggestions. Finding a doctor - or any professional, really - that actually listened to suggestions and didn't just dismiss them, take them as an insult, it was exceedingly uncommon, and Doctor Jones gave a rare, faint smile at the sight, lips just barely curling upwards. It made them look a lot less exhausted, in that brief moment, though it faded away soon enough, and their usual tiredness returned.\n\nHis reaction was luckily not one of fear, of disgust, but one of intrigue, curiosity. A welcome change from the norm, and perhaps not too unexpected, considering that he was a doctor, a man much smarter than the average superstitious layman. The Doctor relaxed their somewhat tense shoulders and uncrossed their arms to lightly rub that spot on their wrist with their thumb, pondering that question as they gazed down upon where the injury just sat.\n\nEven though they'd used their magic on themself hundreds of times, for experimentation or other reasons, the process of closing an injury so cleanly that not even a scar remained continued being far from painless. It was even worse with larger wounds, but at least it was a brief pain, even if the feeling continued to linger.\n_ _\n\nThey couldn't help but wonder - had the old man told Henryk of them? Of his old apprentice who went mad looking for a cure, and ended up using these exact magics, hemo- and biomancy, to conduct experiments too cruel to be remembered by the history books? Did he know of their name, Naevys, or did he remain blissfully ignorant? What should they tell him? Should they base their answer off their work the past couple of centuries, or the time before that?\n\nThe Doctor's face once more bore that conflicted expression as they let the silence linger much longer than such a simple question should take to answer, gazing down at their hands. Well... Best go for the easiest answer, no?\n\n\"I swore an oath to never use these powers for anything that might cause harm to another.\" Their voice was soft, but had taken on a serious tone, though... Henryk might notice their very specific word choice - Another - did that exclude the Doctor themself? \"And I intend to keep it.\" They raised their eyes to look at him, seeming to be fully awake, showing just how seriously they meant it." }, { "author": "Henryk", "message": "Narrowing the cone of vision here, he'd focus on the main interest at hand, Hemomancy. Listening to what the other had to share, Henryk nodded his head along. An individual who has a moral standard can be trusted— he believed that people who hold themselves to a certain standard typically are more disciplined then those without a code. Or, in this case, an oath. Although he pondered if this oath was spun at the earliest point of his learnings, or if they had done questionable acts to make them reflect and make such an oath.\n\nHe wouldn't pry— No, he respected Jones's privacy enough not to search for their skeletons. Instead, he would keep this conversation in line with _healing._ \"So, then I can assume you use it for more _benevolent_ reasons. Educate me, Dr. Jones. How can you use Hemomancy in a hippocratic means? I've... _Used_ blood in the past, although not to the extent of exercising the school of magic which encompasses it— No, I've studied the blood of those poisoned in order to engineer antidotes. So, I'm curious as to what you've learned. I can only assume you have scholarly tendencies too— I mean, you've displayed such from just a brief glance over my article, so, I'm sure you have some enlightening knowledge you can share.\"\n\nHenryk lapsed his hands over one another after setting his pen down. He looked, and he listened. He was not only an adept at his art, but he was also a learner. He always wanted to be such— there was no such thing as true mastery. For certain there is a degree to warrant such a title, but, those who let the word \"Master\" Run their ego become stagnant. If one is unwilling to learn, even having attained such an aptitude, then they are no master at all.\n\nHenryk reasoned that's what makes a difference between Master and Grandmaster. He entertained the idea of such titles a few times in his past— he was a prideful man after all, but he remained humble. He was limited by what he could employ without strong innate magics. He was no Sorcerer. Just an Alchemist.\n\nThe coffee and pastries were delivered. Finally!\n\nHenryk looked to the waitress briefly. The words \"Thank you\" Slipped from his mouth, as he picked up the cup. It was still hot— but the aroma was simply so intoxicating." }, { "author": "Doctor Jones", "message": "It was a relief that Doctor Henryk chose not to question the things Doctor Jones would rather not answer, instead only focusing on the questions that they wouldn't mind discussing. Had he sensed it, somehow? Noticed their struggle? Or perhaps he simply didn't care? Well, either way, they felt a lot more relaxed like that, casually resting their hands on their lap instead.\n\nAn expected question indeed. The man did seem like he just wanted to learn more, and it was a thing many were curious about. Using a magic so associated with harm for healing instead, it was a rare thing to see. Then again, everything could be harmful or harmless depending on who was using it, right? Just like how poison could become medicine in the right hands, or vice versa.\n\n\"There's the obvious of preventing people from bleeding out,\" The Doctor explained, \"Using hemomancy to take care of that while I use my biomancy to repair the damage. I can detect when bloodflow is obstructed, say, if it clots internally, where it's not supposed to, and either try to fix the issue internally or remove the clot altogether. And...\" Their gaze lowered to their hands again. \"With people of my species, if they've lost too much, I can give them my blood, though... It doesn't seem to work the other way around. I don't quite understand what makes that the case, I'd have to do more research into the matter, but I'm sure you can imagine why that's... Difficult.\"\n\nFinding people to willingly give up their blood and be okay with it experimented upon was a lot more difficult than just kidnapping people, especially with hemomancy being outlawed in as many regions as it was. Sometimes, Doctor Jones wished they'd done more with the subjects they had - though that wasn't a thought they allowed themself to think for very long because of how dangerous it was.\n_ _\n\nThey would've continued explaining, were it not for the fact that the waitress returned, carrying food and drinks. Doctor Jones thanked her quietly, and before the plate with their buns was fully set down, they'd already picked one up in both hands and bit down into the fluffy bread, taking out a large chunk and chewing it quietly. As per usual, they didn't particularly notice the taste, but it filled them up nicely, and that was what mattered.\n\nOnly once they finished it did they continue speaking, absently stirring their coffee with the provided spoon, one hand curled loosely around the warm cup. \"I can also use it to sense when someone gets hurt. It's like... A sixth sense, of sorts. Alerts me when someone nearby is injured, no matter if I'm awake or asleep.\" Well, that might explain why they looked so exhausted - getting woken up whenever someone was hurt wasn't good for one's sleep health.\n\nPausing, the Doctor placed the spoon down and leaned back in their chair, holding the cup in both hands as they closed their eyes, brow furrowed in concentration. \"I can also tell you that there are currently... Nine people in this building. The two of us, the waitress, I think five other customers, and one in the basement. I'll have to assume that's the cook.\" Reopening their eyes, Doctor Jones looked down at their cup as they took a sip, letting out a satisfied sigh. So warm... \"I can do more, of course, but those are the most important aspects.\" Were Henryk to look around, he would find out that Doctor Jones was exactly right about the amount of people here - and might even catch a glimpse of the cook as they climbed back up the stairs, rushing into the kitchen with an armful of ingredients." }, { "author": "Henryk", "message": "\"Are you able to gain a deeper insight on the quality of blood? Are you able to tell the race, sex, and ailments within someone's blood?\" Henryk would further ask. \"It's curious that you note you can only give blood with _others_ within your species... Perhaps, the way blood works, it can reject and accept a recipient based off these qualities. Within your years, have you looked closely at how blood from others reacted with one another?\" Henryk asked. \"It's a curious thought— one I wouldn't have thought of until now. I imagine the application would be the same as how I study the effects of poisons and toxins reacting with blood. The way poison deprives blood, forcing it to clot, to paralyze... So on, so forth.\" Henryk would lend this idea to Jones, voicing one of the ways he studied poisons. Perhaps this can be applied to blood as well?\n\n\"I know a place where blood can be given. Although, perhaps not voluntarily.\" He of course meant Lazaroth. There were slaves in troves there, and his employer was a _Duchess._ He was sure he could bargain with her to let him take blood forcefully in the name of medicine. \"Perhaps you'd be interested in joining me in my projects, Doctor?\" Henryk would muse, baring a slight smile as he sipped on his coffee.\n\nAh, that sweet bitterness. He should take Vierna here some day— perhaps she would like coffee too? He let the other eat and drink, to digest some of his words. Henryk was merely in his 20s, but he had a certain wisdom and intellect to him akin to that as someone whose lived a lifetime longer than he has. That is, if you ignore his young man's ambition, and slight naivety.\n\nHe was envious of one thing— something he did not have. A strong innate sense over magic. The way Jones picked out everyone in the establishment, forcing Henryk to look about to make a head count had been quiet amazing. His mind drew back to earlier this week, when he was beaten by the Lazarothi Guard. How they summoned a familiar to claw into his skin. He didn't have that capacity. Henryk secretly was green with envy. How much life would be easier if he could deploy biomancy on such a scale. \n\nThrough his envy, he did remember his pride. But he couldn't help but think... \"What if I were more magically inclined?\"\n\nSip.\n\nThis coffee was a strong brew." }, { "author": "Doctor Jones", "message": "As expected of a medical professional, the answer to one question led to ten more, and Doctor Jones couldn't help but once more give that faint smile, sipping their drink. The concoction of bitter and sweet was one that was disgusting to most people, but the Doctor didn't mind it so much. The stuff was warm, it energized them, and the sugar contained some of the calories their body desperately needed - in a way, it was the perfect drink for them.\n\n\"Some ailments are more difficult to pin down than others, but there are many that I can sense through blood alone.\" The Doctor picked up another of the buns and bit down on it, falling quiet for a few moments to chew. \"For others, I do sometimes have to conduct some tests to narrow it down.\" They paused, a detail coming to mind that was off-putting to many, but Doctor Henryk hadn't been judgemental so far, so perhaps...\n\n\"Taste is also a major help when it comes through diagnosing using blood. At least, it is for me. I believe that over the centuries, I have managed to hone my sense of taste specifically for that purpose.\" Half-eaten bun in hand, they gestured at their coffee. \"This barely tastes like anything to me anymore, but I can tell so much about a person through the taste of their blood. Race, approximate age, sex, certain types of ailments, and more.\" They gave an absent shrug. \"Some think it's weird, I guess, but they don't seem to mind so much when I save their life.\" It was curious how much stuff people were willing to put up with when their lives were on the line.\n_ _\n\nTaking another bite, they chewed for a moment to have an excuse to remain quiet and think. \"Well... I haven't had a chance to continue my study. Been busy with other stuff.\" That was not at all the truth, but Doctor Jones wasn't exactly about to admit why they were unable to continue those experiments. \"It is interesting, but...\" Their voice trailed off with another shrug. \"Not like I have the funds to continue it.\" Indeed, their appearance resembled that of someone that didn't have a copper piece to their name, not a renowned doctor.\n\nThe Doctor was about to take another bite, when they heard what he said next, his offer, and the little bit of color that was left in their face drained from it as they lowered their hands, looking at Henryk, astonished - though if it was in a good or bad way was hard to tell. He was being serious. He'd actually just offered them... That. And the worst part was that it was tempting.\n\nTaking in a shaky breath, Doctor Jones averted their gaze, placing the drink and food down to fold their hands on the table instead. \"I will not see anyone hurt for the sake of my research,\" They stated coolly. \"If you can find a way for people to donate voluntarily, I will reconsider, but otherwise I will have to decline.\" Many things, they were flexible on, but that, that was something they would not budge on. They would not see people hurt because of them, never again." }, { "author": "Henryk", "message": "\"Taste my blood.\" Henryk would ask outright, first and foremost. No— it wasn't an ask, it was an _insist._ The Doctor would place a hand to his side pocket, before revealing a scalpel. He would press the sharp blade to one of his thumbs, and break skin— drawing minimal blood. He allowed it to pool, before staining a napkin, which was offered when the coffee was initially brought. The crimson had given the white sheet a deep red, as he would allow for Doctor Jones to take it. Once relinquished, he balled his hand, before opening it. The cut had been sealed over. He wasn't a strong innate caster, no, but he knew how to cast cantrips and other minor incantations by force alone— but that's where it stopped. It requires some innate magical inclination to operate a Alchemy Table, so it was a given he could cast.\n\nHenryk looked and watched. \"Tell me what my race is, and if you can achieve that, I will tell the Duchess of Syvathere, Vierna Argith about you and your endeavours. I understand what it's like to be severely underfunded. It's frustrating, isn't it? The want to help people, but _coin_ is what barres us from doing so. _In addition,_ I can concoct a means to get the necessary blood for research _ethically_ and _voluntarily._ I already hold medical trials within Syvathere— finding volunteers shouldn't be difficult. Especially if they are paid.\" Henryk had reasoned, but, he also reasoned to collect blood from slaves. Criminals who've already given their freedoms up for the crimes they committed. What he offered upfront, for now, was simply a way to ease Dr. Jones into the idea of working with him. Yes, _with._ Not beneath, but as his equal. He could learn a lot from Dr. Jones, and the same could be said for Jones too.\n\nThere was also a morbid curiosity at hand. He saw Jones manipulate blood, but he wanted to know if that insight held true. If Doctor Jones can discern what is mixed within his human blood, then he will trust that their abilities are true. There's always a shadow of a doubt of one's abilities, but, that is why one must always prove themselves, and constantly be challenged. The path of mastery and perfection requires one to be pressured in order to grow and develop those necessary competencies." }, { "author": "Doctor Jones", "message": "Doctor Jones was unable to hide a slight look of surprise on their face at the sudden request, eyebrows bouncing up into the air. That wasn't a response they'd ever gotten to telling someone about that aspect of their power. However, it wasn't a request they were unwilling to honor, it was just... Unusual.\n\nThey watched for a moment as he took out the scalpel, and then averted their gaze, grabbing the glass of water they'd been given alongside the coffee - if they were going to do this, they were going to do it properly. And they could still decline, even if they got it right. So, while Henryk busied himself with preparing the blood, they cleaned out their mouth, swishing the water around before swallowing it. Sure, the taste of their food and drink was one they barely noticed, but they'd like to give themself the best chance at guessing right, and judging from his words, Henryk was planning to make this question a difficult one.\n\nAccepting the napkin, Doctor Jones took a moment to smell it - scent was just as important as taste, after all - as they listened to his words. When he put it that way... Well, it became a little more tempting for sure. Though there was still the matter of their past history... Perhaps something to bring up after they passed or failed the test.\n\nWell, best not let the blood dry out. Taking the napkin in their right hand, the Doctor held the fingers of their left over it, carefully extracting the few droplets, which hovered in the air for a few moments before they closed their eyes and popped them in there.\n_ _\n\nIt was quiet, then, as they let the taste spread through their mouth, shutting out all senses except for taste, scent, and that sixth sense that allowed them to even pull this off in the first place. The only thing that moved was their lower jaw, barely noticeable twitches to make sure every part of their tongue was able to taste the stuff. It didn't seem to be an easy process, Doctor Jones would be quiet for five minutes at least as they tried to figure out the exact details - but when their eyes reopened, their expression was calm.\n\n\"Half Concubus,\" They stated, not a shred of doubt in their voice, \"And Half-Human. With some Tiefling mixed in there as well, though it's faint compared to the others.\" They were looking him directly in the eyes, speaking of the full confidence they had in their words. \"And you should eat more.\" They paused, putting the napkin back down on the table - not a hint of blood remained on it. \"Though I suppose I can't judge.\" With that, the Doctor picked their half-eaten bun back up, taking a bite to wash away the taste of blood. They didn't hate the taste, but it was far from good either." }, { "author": "Henryk", "message": "Henryk couldn't help but laugh— a genuine one at that. One which held surprise as he couldn't help but give an ear to ear smile, and a slight clap. It warranted some attention from the other patrons, but they were quick to look away. The Doctor was simply impressed.\n\n\"Yes. Yes, you are correct. You are the second living person to know my ancestry— and I didn't even know I had Tiefling in me!\" He spoke with continued excitement in his tone. \"As promised— I will talk to the Duchess. Although we have _just_ met, I am certain... Yes, _absolutely_ certain that our works will pair nicely.\" Henryk had spoke thus, showing the flames of ambition that he held to his chest. \"Doctor Jones, will you honour me by being my partner?\" The Half-Human now asked— a dagger piercing the heart of the dialogue. He got to the point and made it clear. He wanted Doctor Jones in his laboratory working with him. Henryk was certain. Dead certain that their meeting over a shared mentor's grave was destiny unwinding around the two. The red string of fate connecting the pair.\n\n\"I'm certain Matron Vierna will want to see your skills at work— she had wanted to see me work too before agreeing to enter a partnership with me. However, I am sure given the instruments, you will impress her.\" The Half-Human seemed sure of himself. \"Oh— and, you are by no means obligated to adhere to this offer... I— I simply understand your struggles. It wasn't long ago I was arguing about property taxes with Findara's Master of Coin. That, and, Lazaroth can be a cruel place. I experienced it first hand. Vierna tries her best for me to get proper treatment— and my medical solutions have began capturing the trust of the people, but that trust can be fickle.\"\n\nHe paused. Then he sighed. \"I just _know_ with your help, we can make great things happen, Doctor Jones. It was maybe fate itself that we both met at Dr. Eiher's grave today.\" He would lean back into his chair, taking his cup and sipping on it. His excitement had died down a bit, as he mellowed out for the other.\n\n\"Well. What say you? If you need time to consider it, then please, give it some thought.\" The Doctor finally added." }, { "author": "Doctor Jones", "message": "The Doctor was taken aback by Henryk's sudden laughter and enthusiasm - he'd seemed so calm and collected earlier. However, it wasn't mocking, or otherwise a bad sign, it seemed that he was just surprised, and... Excited? They supposed they should feel the same way, it was an incredible offer. So then why was their enthusiasm so lacking?\n\nListening to his words, Doctor Jones finished the bun and picked up the third in both hands, eating it quietly. On the one hand, it was the opportunity of a lifetime. Working directly under this Duchess, with access to coin and what seemed to be a more than reliable partner, they would be able to do so much good, save so many lives. There was his assurance that their subjects would only be procured ethically, and they would finally be able to continue their experiments... Additionally, it was no big secret that Devil's Root was legal and relatively easily acquired in Syvathere - it was where their current supplier came from - and on some nights, the Doctor was heavily reliant upon that drug to get any rest in at all.\n\nOn the other hand, Lazaroth was notoriously cold, and Doctor Jones wasn't one to be good with that type of weather. There was also the fact that slavery was so rampant there, and that little issue that they said they'd mention if they got the answer right. Plus, what about their home that they'd spent so long working on? Should they just abandon it? Then again... This likely wouldn't be a permanent deal. Being only half Concubus, Doctor Jones doubted that Henryk shared the longevity of that race, and he probably would die before they showed any signs of ageing. They could stick with this project either until he died or it finished, whatever came first, and then simply return to live out the rest of their life.\n_ _\n\nOnce more, the Doctor's face showed that conflicted mix of emotions as they turned their head to gaze out the window, looking up into the sky. A few clouds here and there, but for the rest, it was shaping up to be a beautiful day.\n\nPhaendar... What would you want me to do? They silently asked the heavens, and the heavens, of course, said nothing in return. Still, the question didn't remain unanswered. What he would like them to do was what they wanted to do - and what they wanted to do was to help the most people they could.\n\n\"I... Have some questions first,\" Doctor Jones spoke up softly as they looked back to Henryk, picking up their almost empty cup of coffee. \"When do you want to depart in that direction? I would like to visit my home first, to pick up some items from there. Some warmer clothing at the very least. What is my guarantee that you won't try to force me to do something against my will, and how can you guarantee that the subjects that will be necessary for my experiments are there of their own free will? And...\" They took a breath. This was the big one. \"Say I had an... Unsavory history. What would happen if that was found out?\" They finished the coffee, and then picked up the spoon to start eating the sugar that had been left behind in the cup, as the liquid had apparently been too saturated." }, { "author": "Henryk", "message": "Henryk listened to the questions and concerns laid out, before speaking. \"There is no rush, Dr. Jones. I never anticipated for an immediate decision— especially to somewhere such as Lazaroth.\" Henryk would say. \"In fact, I had to think on it myself when the Duchess offered to fund my work. I understand that these things need some significant thought.\" \n\n\"For clients offering their blood, we'll have them write a contract to sign their consent. I already do so during my medical trials. In fact, we can extract blood during the medical trials— make the reasoning we want to research the effects of the medicine on blood with multiple different donors in order to study the consistencies and inconsistencies that occur, along with wanting to use blood for further research to produce better medication— We'll even produce an article about blood transfusions, and how it can save lives.\" Henryk would explain to Jones. \"Although I unfortunately cannot guarantee that some of these individuals maybe _slaves_ being \"Asked\" By their masters to sign the contract. It's a necessary risk we must take in order to improve the lives of the many.\" Henryk sighed a bit. He rather be honest then lie.\n\n\"I have to return to Syvathere today, but, we can communicate by letter if we must. Or set up a future date to discuss further. I can make light of your existence to Matron Argith, and see if she'd be willing to indulge in your work under the context it'll assist in my projects.\" \n\nPause. Then he continued.\n\n\"And, as for being forced... How about we print a legal documentation that'll clearly define the terms of our agreement. You'll have too anyways with Vierna, if you wish to be part of this project. You'll be allowed to revise and we'll create revisions if we must. But, despite that... I've seen enough conflict in my lifetime. So much blood... Bodies in troves... To be at odds ends with another intellectual will not better the world. It'll only set it back.\" Henryk swished his coffee around before bringing the cup to his lips. He would sip, and finish it.\n\nHe set the empty cup down. \"We all have skeletons in our closets, Dr. Jones. Who am I to judge? If it were to be discovered you were a war criminal of some sorts... Well, you're under the Duchess's protection. Not to mention in Lazaroth of all places. I'm certain anything you've done can hardly be compared to what the nation has done in its past. What matters is that you're attempting to change for the better, and working towards a _healthier_ future. Yes?\"" }, { "author": "Doctor Jones", "message": "Placing the empty cup down, Doctor Jones absently started eating the last few crumbs left of their meal, more to have something to do with their hands than anything else. \"I never knew that doing this stuff involved so many contracts. What a pain...\" They muttered softly, glancing out into the café as a few more people trickled inside. A short pause, then they added quickly; \"But I do prefer contracts over doing things the wrong way, don't misunderstand.\"\n\nHenryk was rattling off some good ideas, though, that was for sure. \"And I can help to make sure that no more blood is taken than a person can handle. I've experienced severe blood loss myself several times, and it is as unpleasant as it is dangerous, but just a little doesn't hurt that much. I doubt I'll need a lot from each person anyway, I personally wouldn't need large quantities to confirm my hypotheses.\"\n\nThe matter of slavery was one Doctor Jones still felt more than a little uncomfortable with, yet... It seemed necessary to accept the risk, like Henryk said. \"I won't lie and say that I'll be anywhere close to comfortable with it,\" They said, \"But I appreciate your honesty.\" An ugly truth was much preferred over a beautiful lie, in their eyes.\n\nThey gave a short pause of their own when the next matter was brought up. \"Well... I suppose you'll find it rather difficult to contain me anyway. Not because I'm particularly good in combat, but...\" Trailing off, the Doctor tapped the side of their head with a finger. \"It only takes one burst blood vessel, and I won't be able to aid you anymore.\" It was a fact that was astonishing to many, that they'd prefer to end their own life over harming another - however, it did speak volumes of their commitment to the cause and their oath. \"Though... I doubt I'll be forced to resort to such extreme measures.\" Still, the option was always there.\n_ _\n\nThe Doctor sat back in their chair, still not looking Henryk, instead watching the waitress serve the newcomers. \"A contract is smart. What would you prefer, meeting up or discussing it through letters? I don't care either way.\" That was probably a phrase he'd have to get intimately familiar with if the two of them were to work together. \"I don't intend to cause conflict either, all I want to do is help people. As many as I can.\" And maybe finally learn to live with myself. A thought that went unspoken.\n\nOnly when it came to his final words did Doctor Jones look back at Henryk. \"Yeah, I suppose that makes sense. I just... Wanted to be sure.\" They'd been so open about everything today, it was certainly very unusual - though these were very unusual circumstances as well. \"Is there anything else you want to ask me?\" It seemed the meeting was beginning to come to an end, so it was probably about time to start wrapping things up." }, { "author": "Henryk", "message": "\"No, I believe that is everything.\" Henryk concluded for now. \"I'll speak to the Duchess and see if she'll entertain the idea. If you give me your address, I will write you a letter of when we can meet. That, or, give you the hypothetical unfortunate news that the Duchess isn't interested— although, I doubt that will be the case.\" He said so with confidence. \"Think on it in the meantime. I'll try getting to you in a timely manner in the coming days.\" Henryk would promise Jones.\n\n\"Well— I hope we meet again soon. I'm needed in Syvathere.\" The Doctor stood up. He dug into his coat to pull out his coin purse, placing enough down to pay for the two. \"Consider this compensation for enlightening me.\" Henryk said, offering a smile.\n\nBefore he would begin, he would offer his pen and a piece of parchment for Jones to write down his address. \n\nAnd once that was done, Dr. Henryk offered a handshake. \"A pleasure to meet you, Dr. Jones. We'll meet again soon, I am sure of it.\" He said so with certainty.\n\nWith business concluded, he would adjust his coat. \"Now I must go— I bid you adieu. Take care now.\" \n\nAnd without another word, he would leave the other. Presumably with an address to contact him via mail. Henryk would leave pleased with the conversation he had— begrudgingly thanking Dr. Eiher for this fateful meeting. But now, he must attend his duties. He had to meet with Vierna soon. There was a fair chunk of revelations he must debrief her on.\n\nThe Half-Human Doctor left the café, with a engrossed ambition. He could sense his endeavours would reach new heights..." }, { "author": "Doctor Jones", "message": "Address? Right. With handwriting befitting of a doctor - that is to say, requiring a college degree to decipher, the Doctor wrote it upon the piece of parchment. It pointed to a small house in the woods, one thought abandoned by many and not even thought of at all by most, but it should be easy enough to find. \"Suppose I'll stick near home for a little while then,\" They muttered absently, handing over the parchment.\n\nAt least the man was kind enough to pay for the two of them - even if this deal ended up falling through, Doctor Jones still got some free food out of it. \"Good luck with Vierna, I guess. I'll be awaiting your message. And... I'll do some thinking about my terms.\" Definitely not right now, though, the conversation had left them more tired than they would've thought.\n\nThey shook his hand when he held it out, and Henryk might notice that their hand was as cold and frail as a dead man's despite the warmth of the place they were currently in. It wasn't a feeling that lasted for very long, though, as they pulled away fairly quickly to offer him a slight wave. \"Yeah, I'll see you around.\"\n\nAnd just like that, the conversation was over, though Doctor Jones spent a few more minutes in the café, thinking over everything, absently fiddling with the napkin previously soiled by Doctor Henryk's blood. What an unusual man, and what an unusual meeting, but... Not an unpleasant one. In fact, the thought of what might be happening in the future sparked a rare hint of excitement in the Doctor's usually so dull mind. If this all went right, they really were going to help a lot of people...\n\nBut that was for later. They absently pocketed the napkin - a small token to remind them of the meeting - and rose to their feet, going to exit the café. Right now, all Doctor Jones wanted to do was find a warm place to take a nap, so that was what they went to do. Thoughts of the future could wait. They had plenty of time to worry about that later." } ]	512	14,255
619.815789	1776-07-04	GuildPublicThread	[ { "author": "Nadia Laomedia", "message": "\"Cross the red wire here... Twist the leftmost bolt here...\"\n\nThe artificers mutterings served as an intent way to ensure that she stays focused as she connected another line for her water bomb, making the number she has at the ships keel seven. She's done wire work like this hundreds of times below the ocean in the sunless sea. Scavenging through the wrecks of mighty ships like these, sent down here when the rabid dogs of Lazaroth first thought itself arrogant enough to plunder the seas and pillage its waters without consequence. It's what taught her all about the finer details of shipcraft and sailing. Something she learned a decade before she discovered that worrying about a light source in the same manner as one would food and shelter is mainly a Siren concern as her home was so deep into the sea sunlight never reached.\n\n\"One more should do it... The hull on warships are a lot stronger then the sloops I've done this on\"\n\nHands stiff and focused reached into her pack to pull out the last water bomb she had on hand. The loud thud of heavy boots from above made the Siren jump to the point where she nearly dropped her device.\n\n```\"That sea devil's somewhere on this ship! Search this vessel top to bottom! By our queen, none leave here until that thing is dead!\"```\n\nThey figured out where she was already? Nadia's whole body began to flow with adrenaline as she turned her attention back to her work. If the ship sank she'd have the good fortune of being able to breath underwater to keep her from drowning. But she couldn't help herself from dreading the suction of the ship when its belly burst into an explosion of splintered wood and salt water. Its carcass sinking down to the bottom of the ocean, a place that Nadia knew all too well. The place she worked so hard to escape from. If she didn't get out of here before then that's where she'd return to. Welcomed home by darkness, silence, and the cruel knights eager to drag her into the deepest hole on the ocean floor for h\n\nAving the temerity to abandon her home. To look at the goddess who banished them from the sun and the other deities who allowed it and think they're undeserving of worship. To see the proud members of nobility and royalty and call them despots who perpetuate this cruel fate that the Siren's endure. To call them just as evil as the Merfolk who work tirelessly to keep them in the dark.\n\nNadia's hands stopped as her mind wandered thinking of the cruel fate that may await her. A small moments pause that by the moment it ended it was already too late. She heard the door to the keel burst open as three Drow burst in. The one in front didn't have time to finish her sentence before the water bomb finally burst. The tidal wave sending Nadia crashing right into the deck as the world went dark around her.\n\nHer dreams were empty. Her mind disheveled. Her time unconscious was only accompanied by the distorted sound of crashing waves and the deepest of dreads as her half awake mind was greeted with darkness. Despite not comprehending what she was seeing that darkness made her heart quicken. The only way to interpret her situation was the darkness of the cruel sea had reclaimed her. She rested at the bottom of the ocean where she'd be trapped forever.\n\nHer mind wandered to her parents. Using every fiber of her being to call out to them. To beg them to help. Her father to swoop in, lantern in hand as her mother scooped the frail siren in her arms to carry her home. Her older sister, trident at the ready welcoming them back to that destitute hovel of stone and driftwood they called a home. It was when her mind let her remember that her family had been dead for years, slaughtered by the despotic knights of Volturis, that she finally tried to scream.\n\nHer eyes were thrusted from absolute darkness to blinding light as she awoke on the beach. Spitting salt water out of her mouth, hand clutching her neck as she tried her best to breath. Her frail arm pushed her small body up off the sand as she caught her breath. Despite being able to breath both air and water Nadia's condition likely made her the only Siren who knows what it feels like to drown. Her head throbbed as she collected her surroundings. A collection of sea gulls pecked away at her legs, pulling the laces of her boots and on the fabric of her clothes as though she were a freshly bloated corpse that washed ashore.\n\nThe Siren grit her teeth as she willed her leg to give a stern kick, sending the scavengers fleeing into the sky as they cried out in disappointment. From what it looks like Nadia had washed up on a beach somewhere. Surrounding her were a collection of ship parts. From planks of driftwood to water stained sails to now rusted cannons littering the beach. It seemed the tide was merciful to her. But now she had no idea where she was. \n\nRolling onto her side she got onto her hands and knees, using all her strength to stand to her feet. Her body weaker than normal she had to take a moment to catch her breath from the extraneous activity of just standing up. From what it looked like she still had all her gear which meant she wasn't entirely defenseless. Hopefully they would be enough, at the moment it feels like a strong enough breeze would do her in. But this was no place to linger, she had to go. And with that Nadia took her first step as she slowly but steadily began to walk down the beach." }, { "author": "Brakteon Wealbrig", "message": "Whispers of a shattered ship washing ashore caught the Grey Oathbreaker's attention more than he thought it would, but then again, the day had been uneventful so far, so the talk of a ship broken apart by an apparent monster and being brought to the shores was much more interesting to him than anything else the day had to offer.\n\n So come sunrise, Brakteon walked the coastline, his heavy armored boots sinking into the pristine sands with every step he made, and the scent of the sea carried by lazy winds to his nose reminded him of fond memories with his parents. Before the curse of his birth brought about their separation, before his mother put the popularity of the family name over the wellness of their relationship. \n\n Brakteon looked out to the sea, giant great blue waves lapped against themselves, beautifying the horrors that lived within its expanse. He once tried an ocean hunt when he was in the Adventurer Guild, and that day Brakteon learned how treacherous the waters could be. \n\n But that was far from these waters, he had not heard of a beast capable of ripping apart a ship this close by, at least not recently. Then again, Lucidien was always changing, he could be walking inches away from a Drogon enclave for all he knew.\n\nDrift wood. Brakteon picked off the small piece that laid by his feet then looked at the other much larger ones that were scattered about the beach. He tossed the smaller piece aside and knelt next to a larger one, inspecting it by brushing his clawed hand across the damp surface. \n\n \"Not a monster,\" He muttered to himself after checking four other pieces. No claw marks, no bite marks. The ship had been torn apart yes, but not by any beast. Magic perhaps?\n\n Brakteon frowned at his guess, if he was more inept with his sorcerer side he might have deduced whether it was truly magic that ripped the vessel asunder, but he never studied that well. His magic was more... Bloody. \n\n He checked around more. So far he didn't believe it to be fire magic, no scorch marks. But maybe wind? He'd heard of great mages bringing about typhoons to sink enemy ships. Perhaps this was one such case. \n\n Brakteon stood up straight and looked to the ocean once more, only this time with slight annoyance. He couldn't find any worthy goods, and so far couldn't even tell what brought about this thing. But when he was about to turn away from the scene something besides the scent of the sea caught his nose. \n\n He looked around, following his nose, until he came across footprints in the sands. Small boot prints that traveled on for a while, swerving from side to side as though the owner was drunk beyond measure. Or greatly injured. \n\n A survivor. \n\n \"Hmm.\" Brakteon pulled his cape closer and started following the footsteps with haste. If this person were injured chances are they wouldn't survive long. \n\n And when he eventually saw the silhouette of a wandering person ahead he hailed them with a thunderous call. \"Oi!\"" }, { "author": "Nadia Laomedia", "message": "The Siren's first few steps were no better than that of a newborn as she worked herself up onto her feet. How long had she been lying there in the sand? An hour? A day? However long it was it was long enough for her body to go completely numb. In recovery her entire body seemed to shut itself down and now she was moving again it was starting to work itself back up. Everything about her felt cumbersome. The swaying of her arms, the effort she put in just to position her leg correctly, it was slow going but eventually the numbness faded.\n\nOnly then did she feel a sharp pain shoot up her left leg, eyes widened as she near doubled over in pain stopping right in her tracks. \n\n\"W-What?!?\"\n\nNadia pressed her hand against the side of her left leg, brushing along until she felt a sizable bump and that pain coursed through her anew. Her pants, covered in salt water, had her clothes practically sticking to her. It's what kept her from noticing such a large gash and the piece of wood lodged into it. \n\n\"Damn... I-I just... Hells I...\"\n\nShe stammered out as her mind tried to make sense of it. Peeling back the wet cloth revealed the severity of her injury. The jagged wood was about the size of her hand. It piereced at an acute angle which suggested that it wasn't too far in to cause any serious bleeding. So long as she doesn't move it, of course. But if she didn't get this fixed there's no doubt it would get infected. And for a woman of her constitution her body wouldn't be able to fight it off while she rested in whatever ragged shelter she'd be able to find.\n\n\"C-Can't... I can't panic... I can't. These usually work worse then they actually are, I just need to find a healer and convince them to help me.\"\n\nShe thought aloud as she looked off toward the waves. \n\n\"But... Am I on Lazaroth or Findara? Oh cursed gods, what if I'm on neither?\"\n\nShe considered, standing in the sand plotting her next move. Right now her best option would be to stay on land. After all, Lazaroth couldn't follow her in the sea but if a Merfolk found a wounded Siren on the surface she'd be defenseless. Pressurized water wouldn't help in an underwater fight and all she'd have would be her dagger to keep herself safe. No, land would be where she'd find salvation.\n\nHer planning would soon be cut short by the sudden shout that rang out further down the beach. Her heart quickened in her chest before she even turned around only to feel on the verge of bursting when she saw who was calling for her. An armored figure. She couldn't make out many details very well but it was hard to miss the gleaming sword he wielded. What was most apparent were his features. Nadia had never seen a wolf before. She knew of them but having spent most of her life in the ocean she's never seen one. During her time in Lazaroth she became very aware of their existence. Their armor, their emblems, Lazaroth itself is ruled by a wolf queen who calls it the Wolves Den.\n\nAs of right now this was the closest she came to seeing on in person.\n\n\"I landed in Lazaroth...\"\n\nAnd she was terrified.\n\n\"Shit!\"\n\n The Artificer made her way for the water. Dragging her left leg behind her as she limped as quickly as she could. Her heart jackhammered against her chest in her attempt to escape this strange Lazarothi knight who managed to hunt her down. She knew she had to go inland but now she had to risk the waters and hope no Merfolk find her. Someone in armor like that would just sink the minute they got too deep, right?\n\nThe Siren barely made a few steps before she lost her footing and collapsed. Hands gripping the sand as the waves gently began to lap against her, she slowly attempted to crawl her way hoping she'd be quick enough before the wolf knight ends her." }, { "author": "Brakteon Wealbrig", "message": "Fear. Brakteon knew that expression all too well, it was what showed on the faces of many who stood against him. Most times he never needed to show aggression before the other person seemed terrified, and he never blamed them for it. A towering Dire wolf shifter dressed in armor carrying a blade as wide as a person would warrant wary stares, however, he believed that someone who had been washed ashore from a wrecked ship would be more than thankful to see a person. \n\n Yet when the lady got a look at him her eyes widened, her skin seemingly became paler, and she muttered something he couldn't hear against the sound of crashing waves beside them before she began limping desperately towards the sea. \n\nBrakteon watched her do so, his brows furrowed from confusion and slight amusement. If one runs at the sight of a stranger he deduced that they were either terrified of being alone with said stranger, or they were probably scared of being caught for something that the stranger would know about. Take a thief running from a city guard. \n\n She was too injured to not seek help from a total stranger, he could see that from how she plopped to sand like a bird with a broken wing, and when she started crawling away, desperate to escape his unbeknownst wrath, he guessed it was most likely the latter situation. She was in trouble, in more ways than one. A pirate perhaps? One who's sink just sank. He was uncertain and very curious.\n\n Brakteon walked over to her and squatted, watching her crawl with the same interest one would have when seeing a snail struggling across the garden path. \"You're hurt,\" He said towards the jagged wood jutting out of her leg. The blood... Called to him, he hated that he was still a victim of such a foolish part of his mind.\n\nHe ignored the ache and looked at her more closely. Not Triton or Merfolk, no, too pale. A Siren, she smelled more of the sea than the sea itself. Interesting. He looked out to the waters, far too shallow for a Siren, they were deep-sea folk, secluded. For one to be out here, bleeding, she must have been in deep shit. \n\n She was well dressed, though the water and her current condition would have her seem otherwise. She could probably speak, maybe even alter his mind as he so heard. No, she was too hurt for that. Still, he was always careful. \n\n \"I am going to help you,\" He told her. \"But if I feel a prick at my mind I would swing this claymore faster than you can blink.\" He stared at her for a moment, hoping the cold stare of his amber eyes would drive in his warning, then without even a hint of warning he ripped out the wood embedded in her leg and ignored whatever reaction came after.\n\n He bit his palm, drawing blood, then pressed it against the bleeding spot. The spell that followed, Sanguine Recovery, was a neat trick that came in handy often and when he was finished he tore off his cape, wrapped it around her, and lifted her from the beach. \n\n He would not walk back into town with a siren, people were a superstitious lot, so rather he took her further inland, and set her down, then he furrowed through his sack and brought out some dry meat. \"Here.\" He tossed it to her and sat opposite her. \"You don't have to speak, just eat. You are not in danger.\"" }, { "author": "Nadia Laomedia", "message": "It was an odd relationship Nadia had with the ocean. Born at the bottom of it only to rise to the surface and refuse to return while becoming the enemy of Lazaroth in the defense of it. And now here she was clawing through blood and sand to use it as a means of escape. Her surface clothes grew damp with salt water and weighed her down, her frail arms struggling to push herself upright at this point. \n\nFrom what she was able to tell she had gotten a decent amount of distance between her and the Lazarothite. If she just pushed herself a bit more she'd be able to be deep enough in the water to be safe before he arrives. Narrowly escaping the wolves that have been hounding her for so long. Her eyes drew over to her Monsoon Gauntlet. The device still adorned her left hand. The device still adorned her left hand. A helpful tool she's used to create as well as destroy. Powered by her own magic, the device is able to shoot pressurized water capable of drilling holes through metal. She seldom uses it for self defense, but her options are running low now.\n\nNadia's pulse pounded in her ears, a desperate rhythm urging her to the safety of the sea. She glanced at her Monsoon Gauntlet, a symbol of her strength and defiance, now seemingly her only ally. Her fingers twitched, preparing to summon the power to unleash a torrent of pressurized water, but the gauntlet sputtered. Her eyes widened as she examined closer to discover that it had been damaged from the previous ordeal. A simple break that would take only a few spare parts and minutes that she knew well she didn't have. A sinking feeling of vulnerability washed over her as she realized she was defenseless.\n\nShe felt the knight's presence before she saw him, a looming shadow that stirred a mix of fear and defiance within her. Rolling onto her side she looked up at the figure that loomed over her. The amber eyes that glared down at her. This was it. He was going to cleave her head from her body to show as proof of her death before hanging it on the side of a ship. The only reward she'd receive of living a life full of suffering would be that it would end. \n\nShe shut her eyes, waiting for the strike that would end her only to receive not a death blow, but words from the wolf. \n\n```\"I am going to help you. But if I feel a prick at my mind I would swing this claymore faster than you can blink\"```\n\nThis was enough to loosen her stiffened body enough to open one of her eyes before the burst of pain shot into her leg and ran up her body. The Siren failed to stifle a cry of pain as she rolled now onto her back, pressing her hands desperate to stop the bleeding. It wouldn't be long until the wolf used his own blood to somehow stop the flow of hers. \n\nFor a brief moment there was silence between the two, Nadia now accepting that she wasn't going to be killed was now trying to find the answers as to what has happened. For the girl who had been alone for more than half her life, the concept of generosity was entirely alien to her. After all wasn't this a Lazarothi? Worse, a knight? She hasn't been on the surface for more than a year and she knows people with armor like that don't stroll around unless they're part of an order or nation.\n\nAs she tried to make sense of it she felt the cloth of his cape wrapped around her and without a word he lifted the Siren up and began to carry her. Her eyes grew wide, trying to push away the wolf who was now carrying her to away from the ocean. By then things finally clicked for her.\n\nShe was a captive. The was the only explanation that made sense. Seeing her wounded the Lazarothi approached the sea devil and made sure she wouldn't bleed out before being brought to the capital. Subjecting her to whatever foul punishments await one who has stirred up the wolves of the den. And Nadia, small and weak, was in no position to fight. No position to flee. No position to save herself. The only thing she could do now was wait and hope some opportunity would show itself. \n\nShe couldn't remember how far they walked. Far enough to where the ocean was finally gone. The Siren's very home now out of sight. Granted, she planned to take this route herself. But to have it made for her, by a knight of all people, just made her all the more bitter.\n\nBy the time they finally sat she hadn't said a word. She looked up at him as he tossed her a piece of food. Like some animal being fed table scraps. The Siren didn't plan on accepting the knights pity. Even if she needed it, she certainly didn't want it. The two would sit in silence, her gaze directed to the ground as she wrapped her arms around her legs." }, { "author": "Brakteon Wealbrig", "message": "Brakteon watched the Siren with a slight frown. The woman had denied his food and refused to utter a word, despite being rescued, it's not that he expected thanks and such, but he would not deny his curiosity as to why a siren was all the way out here, shipwrecked. She was being cautious, she had a right to be so, clearly not aware of where she currently was. Whatever she had done on the seas must have been quite the crime, or she might just be scared of him even after he helped her. \n\n \"If I wanted you dead, I would have left you to bleed out,\" He told her. \"And if I wanted to capture you, I would have tied your limbs together, maybe sever an ankle for good measure. But I did not. You are not in any danger, that much I assure you.\" \n\n He brought out another stick of dry meat and ripped it with his teeth, then brought out a water sack full of ale and took a swig before tossing it to her side. \"Nothing is poisoned, that is a coward's way to kill. So eat and drink for fuck's sake, I can hear your stomach complaining.\"\n\nBrakteon looked at the shipwreck for a moment then back at her. A lone survivor. He noticed the gauntlet from earlier, a craft he had never seen before, she seemed to have wanted to use it when he was approaching her, but nothing had come of it, he guessed it was damaged in some manner. \n\n He knew nothing of the Artificer's way with metal, but he was always marveled by it regardless. He figured it was her way of defending himself, along with whatever sort of bits and pieces she might have on her person. \n\n \"Hm.\" Brakteon pulled out his sword, admired it in the sunlight, and then shoved it into the sand. If he showed he was unarmed, then maybe it would ease her more. He looked up the skied and sighed, the sound of waves and cries of the seagulls above brought peace to his mind. \"You are lost, that much is clear. I don't know how far you are from where you call home, but this is Findara Kingdom. I am Brakteon Anteel Wealbrig, this is my... Home.\" He gestured to the ship scraps. \"I do not know what brought our paths together, but for your sake, I hope it is not some sort of crime because then...\" He glanced at his sword, its odd blue steel glistening with the sunshine." }, { "author": "Nadia Laomedia", "message": "The Siren fiddled with the end of her shoelace as her eyes slowly scanned the land around her. The clear blue sky which seemed to hang over her like another ocean of its own. The crashing waves of the ocean sinking into the beaches sands. The surface was a place she was still getting used to. A place where things were meant only to be seen never reached. Her eyes focused on the sky and its swirling clouds. The girl born at the bottom of the world was now higher than she ever had been. But it looked like this is as much height as she'd get.\n\nHer musings would be interrupted by the wolf, speaking in an attempt to gain her trust. Her eyes pulled from the sky downward, letting out a quiet scoff under her breath. The knight seemed to think it was mistrust that was the reason she refused to partake. He wasn't entirely wrong, even if she wasn't in Lazaroth she had little love for paladins like him. Knights of the crown, champions of the land, enforces of whatever despot happens to be in power. Anyone has any success in trying to chance that fact its people like him that are called in to deal with the 'rebellious peasants' that for the crime of questioning the divine right they held.\n\nHer family did when she did so, after all. And she's certain she's not the only one to be orphaned by the crown.\n\nHer eyes would follow the water skin as it sailed through the air landing right next to the flesh she let fall onto the sands next to her. It was tempting, however long she'd been out laying in the scorching sun has made the Siren quite thirsty. A lack of fluids never being a good thing for a creature of the sea. But she chose not to partake in either. Motivated by an act of rebellious spite with the knight growing increasing agitated that she would not entertain his request.\n\nHer eyes then darted to the large sword he buried in the earth. Perhaps an attempt at goodwill? Of disarming oneself? But how much can you truly disarm yourself to a 4'10 Siren, weak and exhausted as a wolven man who could lift her whole body with one hand if he desired? A child of Lazaroth especially.\n\nOr was he?\n\nWhat finally caught her attention was where they were. Findara. It was as though a heavy weight was lifted off her shoulders at the mention that she wasn't in Lazaroth with a clear look of attention in her eyes that she hasn't given the wolf since they sat down. He had a point about capturing her so this would be quite the elaborate lie. But while she had no qualms with Findara itself, she despised the kingdom itself. The kingdom this knight likely served.\n\n\"I didn't ask for your help, tyrant\"\n\nShe finally spoke, quietly mumbling it under her breath as she drew her eyes away and toward the ground oncemore." }, { "author": "Brakteon Wealbrig", "message": "\"Tyrant,\" Brakteon repeated. He once used that word, it was when he was arguing with his mother before leaving to become an adventurer. He had meant it, even finding joy when he saw the harshness of his words pain her. \n\n They did not speak for a long while after that, that was more difficult than he initially thought it would. It was not warranted then, she was not as cruel as she was now. \"A tyrant has no regard for life, kid, and throwing that word at a person who just saved your life seems contradictory. But, I guess most people would be tyrants in the eyes of a pirate.\"\n\n It was a guess, one made from studying her. She wore no uniform from the other kingdoms but was still dressed for the sea. She was tight-lipped and stubborn, she also didn't seem too disoriented from being shipwrecked so this must not have been her first time. He could not find any popular flag emblem on her clothing, she might have been new to the life of a pirate. \"I've met pirates, you are all like coins. Double-sided. One ship is always different from the one next to it.\" \n\n He looked back towards the town, they were a good distance from it, but it wouldn't take long before other curious people came about looking for answers. \"The people don't like pirates much, good or bad. Recently, there has been a rise in stolen goods, and they would take any chance to punish anyone affiliated with that life.\" \n\n He rose to his feet, pulling out his sword from the sand as he did. \"I do not advise you to stay here longer than you should have.\" He began walking back the town, leaving his cape with her without mentioning it. He had helped her as much as he could, if she decided to follow then so be it, otherwise, so be it." }, { "author": "Nadia Laomedia", "message": "The Siren's eyes trailed up at the wolf as he repeated the words. A faint smirk at the silence that followed as the title she had bestowed hung in the air. A tyrant. She had plenty more she was willing to call him. A suppressor. A murderer. An authoritarian. But tyrant was concise enough to get her point across. With a life as perilous and full of loss as hers it was only her ideals that have proven to be her longest surviving companion. And she was stubborn, defensive, treating everyone at an arms length and with express caution. The armored wolf was no different.\n\nWorse for him, she saw him as an extension of that she hates. A servant of the ruling class, the cruel blade of conformity, the killer of individuality. A jab at him is a jab at the establishment. Yet while she was mistaken on his allegiances, that small sense of glee vanished within the second of his rebuttal. She was about ready to double down on what she was saying. 'I know what I said' or 'That doesn't mean anything' or something along those lines.\n\nWhatever words she'd chose died in her throat the moment he called her a pirate.\n\nNadia's eyes were wide, her body straightening at attention and abandoning the sulking posture of before. If calling him a tyrant was a like a slap to the back of the head he had just landed the cleanest verbal right hook in response.\n\nA pirate?!? Pirate?!? She was a freedom fighter! She didn't have a single coin to her name and he calls her that. She's slept in empty hovels and wherever she could find so she could continue her work in Lazaroth. Everything she used was hand made. Everything she ate and drank she had to procure herself. Nadia's mission was the only thing she had left in her life and was the most important thing to her. To refer to it all as simple piracy was the biggest insult one could make.\n\nGranted, he had no way of knowing this or who she was. But it was clear that he had hit quite the nerve.\n\n\"Don't you dare refer to me as-\"\n\nShe was about to state in pure bitterness before the wolf suddenly stood to his feet and collected his sword. This was enough to silence the much smaller Siren for the short moment that followed. The reminder of her situation and defenseless putting her survival over her pride for the moment. The silent and involuntary threat of violence being enough to shut her up.\n\n```I do not advise you to stay here longer than you should have```\n\nAnd with that he stepped through the sands away from the beach and began to depart. Leaving the wounded artificer with some food, a drink, and something to keep her warm for the night. Something that she didn't ask for but would later find that she certainly would need. Still, Nadia couldn't at least be a little bit surprised. He showed up, carried her away and then left as suddenly as he came within the span of a few minutes.\n\n\"Pirate... I've never even...\"\n\nShe mumbled under her breath to herself as she sat in the sand alone under the blazing sun.\n\n\"What I do matters. A knight would never understand what that's like, I don't need his approval. One day I'll have someone's...\"\n\nNadia Laomedia, the sea devil of Lazaroth, had survived ordeal with the navy and found herself stranded on the beach of Findara. She needed to find a way to get back to continue her work, but most importantly she needed to heal. And she was far too stubborn to accept the one that was offered to her. While the wolf who helped her made his departure, Nadia went her own way back down to the beach to scavenge for supplies. After all, there was quite a bit she could do if she had enough driftwood to work with." }, { "author": "yedultimate", "message": "\|\| That is sooo much cooler" }, { "author": "Nadia Laomedia", "message": "When Nadia first arrived on the surface the thing that amazed her the most was the sun. Having spent an entire childhood looking out into the darkness that covered her home, clutching a lantern as her only light source, the fact that light like that was readily available was her favorite thing about the surface. And the fact that everyone could enjoy it freely aside from the Sirens of the deep ocean just made her all the more bitter. With that sun beginning to set over the waves the surface began to resemble that lightless place she escaped from much more. Even away from the water she still dreaded the villains of the sea looming where the light does not reach.\n\nThe Siren tossed another piece of driftwood onto the fire she had crafted as she rested. Having taken shelter in the broken front hull of the ship she destroyed Nadia hid herself as best she could from the cold. Next to her was a waterskin, the one left by the knight from hours before and she bit down on the food he had left. Content enough with partaking when he had left, making it her own decision, not a command for her to follow. Petty? Possibly. But Nadia was a person who lived and died by her ideals. After all it was all she had left.\n\nWhile the meat seemed to be enough to keep her for the night the drink the knight left was absolutely foul. She couldn't believe surface dwellers could stomach that amber colored swill. Thankfully, she had managed to fill it up with a decent amount of sea water to keep herself hydrated. When she finishes, she collects the tools she still had on her person and got back to work, using the dim light she had to fix her gauntlet. She'd spent hours on this now and it was clear that its damage was far more than she first expected.\n\nThe artificer scowled as the metal bolt she had placed falls into the sand once again. It had been the 5th time that one had fallen out. Had she an actual steady surface to work on she might have better luck. But for now, she'd have to put as much focus as she can into this if she wants any kind of results. And it's in this focus that keeps her attention away from the small ship making its way to the shore less than a quarter of a mile away. One that had seen the smoke of her campfire from more than half a mile away. And one full of occupants who have no qualms taking her many many miles away from here." }, { "author": "Brakteon Wealbrig", "message": "Brakteon had returned to town after his little good deed at the beach. He had half expected the siren to follow him back, but she seemed adamant on staying there.\n\n He saw her picking through the driftwood from a distance, and though he was curious about what she was doing he decided it best to head back to town and have the meeting he had planned with his little sister, Juteon.\n\n When he met his sister at the small shop they frequently visited Juteon looked up at him with a smile, she had already gotten him some food ready for his arrival, which he appreciated, given that he had handed most of his rations to the stubborn siren earlier. \n\n He sat across Juteon and greeted her with a solemn voice even though in his heart he was happy to see his sister, she was the second oldest amongst his half-siblings, and the one who wrote to him most. \n\n She often tried to put a good word for him amongst her people in the high society, telling them that he was not as horrible as their mother painted him to be. It was irrelevant to Brakteon, but he found the act nice.\n\n Juteon told him about her week, speaking on how the Wealbrig Estate is pulling in more squires to the point that their mother is thinking of stretching a hand to the Mage Order to train Spell Blades under her influence. \n\n She also told him about how she fears that she is falling for her riding partner, a young elf woman who can apparently wield a blade just as well as Juteon can, which makes her even more attractive. On that note, Brakteon told her it was best she told the riding partner rather than fawn over her from a distance.\n\nJuteon promised to do that and then asked him how was his day. Not week, day, because she knew that whenever they arranged to meet Brakteon would aspire to do something different from his regular day of traveling about. \n\n So Brakteon told her about his venture to the shipwreck and meet with the Siren, he did not tell Juteon about her being a possible pirate, but he did mention that he left her there, and was shocked by the frown on his sister's face.\n\n \"What?\" He asked her in between his bites of food. \n\n \"You left her out there by herself?\" Juteon asked back. \"She's lost, brother, surely she should be brought into town and helped.\"\n\n \"Did you miss the part where I mentioned how she refused my help?\" Brakteon leaned back into the chair and looked towards the ocean. \"Besides, I think she is capable of defending herself. I left my ale.\"\n \n His sister gave him a look, and he gave her one back. The staring match went on in silence for about thirty seconds before Brakteon let out a long sigh in defeat and rose to his feet. \"Fine, I will check if she is still there.\"\n\n \"And if she is?\"\n\n \"I bring her back here,\" Brakteon grumbled. He hated the hold his siblings had on him. \"Tell, Olteon I will see him by the training field tomorrow. Goodnight, sister.\"\n\n🌕\n \n The walk back to the shipwreck was quiet. Brakteon often hummed to himself when walking, but he chose to not break the peaceful air and instead just admired the sound of waves hugging the shore. \n\n He wondered whether the Siren had taken off, whether back to the depths or further into the kingdom, any of the two would result in him heading back to the inn he was lodged at, but when he noticed the smoke rising to the clouds he knew she was still there, making her self a camp.\n\n He sighed at the thought of having to deal with her attitude again but kept on walking only to stop when he looked further than the smoke trail at the shoreline. A ship was making land, which was odd because any proper captain would sail to the port, not this unmarked beach. \n\n Realization dawned on Brakteon when he looked at the campfire again. The ones she had been running from. They were here. \n\n Brakteon moved to unsheath his sword but stopped. What was to say these people chasing the Siren were not in the right? What if she was one of the bad pirates? The ones who smuggled and enslaved. Would it be right for him to interfere? \n\n However, a small ship would be carrying a large number of soldiers. Was such necessary for just one woman? How about if they were pirates searching to finish what they started on the seas? Her death would be on his head for not stepping in. \n\n \"Kamara,\" He called to the goddess as he unsheathed the Claymore of Bright Moon. \"Guide my blade to strike true.\"" }, { "author": "Nadia Laomedia", "message": "The familiar sound of splashing water brought Nadia's attention away from her delicate work. The gauntlet she'd been tinkering with slipping from her hands and sinking right into the sand. Diving onto her hands and knees she brushed away sand to get it back, ignoring the pain that shot through her leg from such a sudden descent. The effort that it took to push herself off of the ground again was far greater than the average person, nearly toppling over herself as she waved her arms to keep her balance. Even in her normal state she was far weaker than the average person. To add on recovering from a deep gash on her leg and severe dehydration meant that she was as defenseless as one could possibly be. Hastily, she began putting on her gauntlet, her only means of defense aside from her knife as she saw those sailing the ship now right alongside the beach, make landfall." }, { "author": "Brakteon Wealbrig", "message": "Brakteon watched from a distance as the one with a mask went separate and disappeared in a literal puff of smoke, whilst the others advanced towards the Siren's campfire. \n\n He looked between the party and studied each one, they seemed competent enough to warrant a bit of caution, and if given the chance he would take on the large axe-wielding one in combat first. He seemed deadly, but overconfident as well, and Brakteon would have used that used it to his advantage. Unfortunately, those two around him, especially the woman, would have been troublesome to face. \n\n There was also the archer hiding around, one with magic, and could do damage from a distance. Brakteon could deal with close combat, but an enemy out of range was never safe no matter how skilled he was.\n\n He would have to deal with that first and hoped the Siren would keep herself alive for the time being. \n\n He also needs to cause a sense of unease amongst the group. They might be in the right, but that did not seem plausible from their approach. They flew no flag but they were clearly experienced in how to approach an enemy, and he wanted to ensure he was not killing innocents.\n\n Brakteon took a deep breath, tilted his head to the night sky, and let out a long terrible howl. It was so loud that it would probably heard all the way in town, and though it gave away his location he rather their attention was on him, rather than the Siren. To her, he hoped it would serve as a sign of his arrival and ease her despite the approaching danger.\n\nBrakteon stopped his howl and tightened his grip on his sword. If he was in luck, this would be sorted out quickly, and if not, he was prepared to do what was necessary." }, { "author": "Nadia Laomedia", "message": "```\"And what do we have here?```\n\nThe bladeswoman spoke as the three approached the Siren's camp, stopping a few feet away from her campfire. Nadia herself had stumbled backward until she found herself right up at the wall of her little shelter. Cornered in every sense of the word. She could see the predatory glee in her eyes, the look of a lion finding a wounded gazelle stumbling and limping about. \n\n```\"Met a few Merfolk in my life time, never a Siren. Gotta say you're about as-\"```\n\nInterrupted by a jet of pressurized water from Nadia's gauntlet, strong enough to tunnel its way through steel. Unfortunately for her, a quick step to the side was all that it took to avoid having a hole burrowed into her skull.\n\n```\"That's not going to work, especially if I'm looking right at you. From what the admiral told us you had more luck doing that trick on Lazarothites who just aren't looking.\"```\n\nShe belittled.\n\n```\"We shouldn't linger here, Thalia. We're in Findara, remember?\"```\n\n```\"We're not staying to find out. Whatever that thing was it sounds mad. Grab her and lets go\"```\n\nShe ordered before cupping both hands over her mouth.\n\n```\"Syrus! Forget the last order, get back here now!\"```\n\nShe called out into the night as the goliath began to approach Nadia.\n\n\"G-Get away from me!\"\n\nShe shouted in vain in an attempt to threaten her future captor. But she wasn't even half this mans height and all she had was a dagger? What could she possibly do?" }, { "author": "Brakteon Wealbrig", "message": "Brakteon looked at where the campfire was, he had heard sounds of struggle, and what sounded like a cannon, so he figured that the Siren had managed to get that weird gauntlet of hers working again. \n\n However, they were far too many for such an attack to work in her favor, she would be captured. \n\n He frowned at the thought of this altercation, he still did not know what was going on, and he always tried to know the facts of a conflict, or rather he always knew the facts because his conflicts were simple. Freeing slaves, stopping thieves, fighting off assassins, these were straightforward, but he did not know this person. \n\n What is to say he was not helping someone dangerous?\n\n Worry about that later, Brakteon. You might have left the Order, but you are still a Knight. You save people, Brakteon. Ulpheri would have wanted you to save her. \n\n Brakteon sighed and looked at the ship they sailed in, and he decided that would be where he would confront them. He walked over to the beached vessel, stood in front of the ramp they used to get down, and drove his sword into the sand in front of him. \n\n He did not wear the banner of the Kingdom, but he believed his armor would be enough to have them be wary, that and his previous howl. \n\n \"What a fool you are, Brakteon,\" He muttered to himself and looked ahead, waiting to confront these strangers for the sake of a stubborn siren." }, { "author": "Nadia Laomedia", "message": "Nadia's grip on the handle of her blade tightened as she pressed her entire body against the rotting wood behind her. In hopes that it was brittle enough by the ceaseless sea she rammed her elbow against one of the planks again and again. She felt the pain shoot up through her forearm from each thrust. Had she been stronger she might have shattered one of the boards by the time she ran out of space. But even then it wouldn't have saved her as the Goliath's hand gripped at the dress shirt beneath her coat and hoisted the Siren up into the air, slamming her against those very boards she failed to break as she felt the wind get knocked right out of her.\n\nThe goliath's laugh rumbled beneath his iron helm.\n\n```\"You ain't so tough now are ya, little fish\"```\n\nHe mocked, turning around with the stunned Siren now slung over his shoulder as he made his exit.\n\nNadia's vision blurred as her mind attempted to collect its bearings. The pain pounding in her skull, each breath of air bringing its own agony with every breath. Already wounded, the strike she had taken would be enough to deal some real damage to the average person. To her it felt like her entire body had to rebuild itself before she acted. And if she didn't she could imagine the fate that awaited her. Brought before the royals, set before the public and executed as a warning to any who would question their rule of the seas. If Nadia was gone, would there be anyone who'd be able to stop them? Would anyone care?\n\nNo. She couldn't let it end just yet.\n\n`Nad: ``\"Gotta say, this-\"```\n\nWas all the goliath was able to get out before he stopped right in place. The giant who strode down the beach now motionless with his companions beginning to take notice.\n\n```\"D-Doran? Doran what're you-\"```\n\nThe mage Ezra was about to ask before Doran suddenly put both hands to his head and doubled over as Nadia slipped from his shoulders and onto the sand below. It was seldom Nadia had the chance to use her abilities. Even less so that sh\n\nE'd deem a situation as deserving enough to use them. For a being who values autonomy and free will more than anything, mind control was something she abhorred. But flooding the mind of her captor with enough thought to give him the worst migraine of his life? Unorthodox. But it'll do.\n\nThe Siren grimaced as she landed on her hands and knees. The adrenaline in her body now the only thing that was keeping her going. This was her opportunity to escape and if she wasted it she knew she wouldn't get another one. A simple transmutation spell came to mind, Expeditious Retreat. A handy speed boost she's used plenty of times. Although now with a fresh leg wound, moving like that would only make it worse, but she didn't have much choice to worry about that now.\n\nWith a quick wave of the hands and magic words she felt the winds flow through her body. It was now or never. She took her first step, aiming for the sea to try and sink beneath the waves. Her boot pressing into the sand as she prepared her next step forward. Only to find the ground itself begin to shift before her, suddenly growing and rising until she landed face first in the sand. Did she lose her balance? Doesn't matter, she had to keep going. Only as she tried to get up she found the force between arms to push herself off the ground were uneven and simply threw herself onto her side.\n\nThe mage breathed a sigh of relief, shaking away the mana from his hands from a freshly cast spell.\n\n```\"Confusion spells working wonders, ma'am!\"```\n\nHe called out to the swordswoman who was already helping the Goliath get back to his feet, the mental agony already fading from his mind.\n\n```\"Crafty thing... Keep that up, I'll-\"\n\nShe began to order before the words died in her throat at the sound of heavy boots walking across the sand." }, { "author": "Brakteon Wealbrig", "message": "It was not the first time Brakteon had been called a lycan, wolf children from the Wealbrig lineage were all from Dire Wolf stock so they tended to be bigger than the average shifter. \n\n Still, it was amusing when someone did call him that, it meant he did not have to put in too much effort to scaring them, but the other person was smart enough to point out Brakteon's composure and attire, traits not often seen amongst werewolves in their wolf form. \n\n Being called a Lazarothite however, was not amusing. He knew of his family's resemblance to that Kingdom's emblem, how he looked like a Lazaroth's knight armor brought to life, it didn't help that he was grey as well, it made him have to explain himself every time he left the borders of Findara.\n\n He had once considered putting the Wealbrig emblem on his armor just because of this dilemma, his siblings had suggested it many times, but he was against that. \n\n His job was not done. He still had bodies to bury. \n\n Brakteon focused on the swordswoman, she was clearly the head of this little band, and she was confident in her blade from her tone. She stated that they were leaving and he should move, but he did not so much as shift his feet in the sand. \n\n Instead, he looked over to the Siren, the young woman seemed out of it, confused by what was going on rather than the aggression that he expected her to show.\n\n\"I do not know you people,\" He started. \"But the fact that you called Lazaroth an ally means that your work in Findara is most likely nefarious. However, I will not judge you based on your origins, rather on the actions you take today. Tell me why you have come this far to capture this Siren, and if it is in good faith then I will step aside and leave you be. If not, then it would be in your best interest to drop the lady, leave these shores, and never return. And if you decide to draw your blade, I must warn you.\" \n\n He pulled his claymore free from the sand, leaned it against his shoulder, and stared at them as he eyes slowly turned red. \"We Wealbrigs are not eager to forgiving transgressions.\"" }, { "author": "Nadia Laomedia", "message": "Silence followed the wolfs declaration. His warning left hanging in the cold air as the three hunters surrounded Brakteon. The sound of crackling lightning could be heard bouncing between Ezra's palms, stepping to the Shifter's left. Doran, the brute, could be heard grinding the blades of his axes together as he took them from his back and stepped to the Shifter's right. From behind him, Brakteon would hear the twang of a bowstring and metal impacting wood. If he turned, or had any other way of knowing, he'd see the 4th hunter. The owl masked ranger, Syrus, and an arrow lodged into the ramp he stood in front of, not too far from his foot. An odd place to aim if they were looking to harm him. A warning shot, close enough to announce their presence without so much as a word. And of course in the front was their emerald haired leader. Thalia, from what the mage had called her. \n\nAll 4 surrounding him on all sides. A move that they seemed to have done plenty of times given how natural this formation seemed to come. A dull blade could cut the tension in the air. The question was who of the 4 would strike first? \n\nBut the bladeswoman didn't seem as on edge as the other three were. Her eyes never leaving the wolf until the other three were in position. The quiet was broken by a dismissive chuckle as she turned around and began walking toward the water. Over where the floundering Nadia was, still trying to escape while under the effects of the spell placed upon her.\n\n```\"Knew I recognized that blade. The Bright Moon Claymore, wielded by the disowned son of house Wealbrig. I like to keep informed on the most notable people in Lucidien, especially if they've gotta price over their head. Never saw a bounty placed on a sword though. Lady Wealbrig's paying a kings ransom to get that back and there's a trail of bodies you've left behind of those who tried.\"```\n\nIt was around the last sentence that there would be a reaction from Doran and Ezra. Particularly at the mention of Brak\n\nTeon's kill count.\n\n```\"He ki- He... What the fuck???\"```\n\nThe mage muttered under his breath. The Goliath's helmet could be heard clattering as he looked the wolf up and down several times, even adjusting his stance as his foolhardy attitude quickly vanished when he learned just who he was dealing with.\n\nThalia stopped right before Nadia, trying in vain to push herself out of the sand before sending a decisive kick crashing right into her forehead. Her skin cracked easy as a large gash soon appeared as blood began to stream down her face as it twisted in pain, landing on her back with salt water washing over her. The hunter would grab her by the shirt collar and drag her to where she was standing earlier. A trail of blood staining the sand as Nadia's body hung lump before crumpling to the ground as Thalia placed her foot upon her chest.\n\n```\"Siren's, you know? Can't be too careful\"```\n\nShe cruelly joked, wiping off the blood which now stained her hands on Nadia's overcoat.\n\n```\"My name is Thalia Kharsis. To your left is Doran, to your right is Ezra, and Sirus has taken point right behind you. Technically speaking we're adventurers belonging to the guild, but honestly we do so much work in bounties that we're practically hunters ourselves. Not sure what the name of this thing is beneath me but the navy in Lazaroth have called her The Sea Devil of Inyelion. To put it bluntly, she's single handedly sunk 4 caravels, 12 sloops, 2 galleon's and most recently a Lazarothi man-o-war. I'll admit her body count has been near none until the stunt she pulled that washed her up here. 3 members of the guard who were tracking her got pulled under when the ship sank. The admiral who hired us spent the whole night combing the seas for her corpse.\n\nOf course when it wasn't found he hired us to scower the coast of Findara to find it. He'd check himself but sending Lazarothi soldiers onto Findaran soil really isn't something that would look real good on them. And just our luck, look who's windpipe I've got my foot on right now. Not sure what the admiralty has in store for her but I really don't care. We fully plan on getting back in our ship and getting out of here before things get more complicated then they already are.\n\nNow, as much as I'm willing to get my hands on that luxury sword you're carrying around, seems like a pretty big risk taking on a man of your reputation. So if you'd be so kind as to get out of our way, I'm willing to forget I even saw you. Live and let live and all that. Of course, if you want to die for the saboteur then I have no qualms with making another fortune with that blade you of yours.```" }, { "author": "Brakteon Wealbrig", "message": "Three things came to Brakteon's mind at the end of Thalia's speech. The first thing he noticed, now more than earlier, is that they were organized.\n\n The group had surrounded him with a formation used to take on a target from all points, preventing his escape, while also keeping close enough to support one another if Brakteon decided to focus on one of them rather than all, which meant they were well-versed in combat and no matter how skilled Brakteon was he would have a problem, and it would not come from the brute, Doran, but rather the archer, Syrus, who had strategically set himself behind him and already notched an arrow at his head.\n\n The second thing he noticed was that they were afraid of him because of his reputation, and all aside from Thalia were cautious of him. His Father always said that the first advantage in combat was had without ever swinging a sword, him scaring them would be to his advantage. Despite what most believed, being overly cautious in combat was often a fault.\n\n He looked at each of them, ensuring his red eyes met theirs. He was outnumbered, but he had been outnumbered many times before and survived with little injury, and they knew that. \n\n But that all brought him to his third observation. He wasn't alone in this fight.\n\n Brakteon had withheld a growl when Thalia cruelly kicked the Siren, he did not want to show a sliver of emotion because that could be used to their advantage, instead, he had calculated the risk and decided to go by the words of his Mother.\n\n The Charge's protection comes first, and the battle comes after.\n\nIf he were to fight them, he could win, but they could easily attack the Siren and force him to submit. He might not truly, but he wasn't certain of that. He needed to ensure her safety before any such fight commenced. And with that decision, Brakteon's plan commenced. \n\n Brakteon drops to a lower crouch, aims his sights on the Siren, and speaks his spell. \"THUNDERWAVE.\" A great blast of thunder instantly emitted from Brakteon, and as he planned, the spell kicked up all the sand around him into the air causing even him to be blinded by it. \n\n However, he had already set his sight on the siren, and hoping that the distraction would disorient the hunters Brakteon dashed forward, being surprisingly fast for his size, snatched the Siren from the ground beside Thalia, and took off running down the beach. \n\n \"You better be worth it!\" Brakteon snapped at her, even though she was unconscious, and after a short sprint, he drifted to a stop. He knew they would follow, he knew he would fight. That thunder wave took a bit of his energy, so he would have to play this smart and avoid a full-on fight against all four. \n\n \"If you can hear me, which I do hope you can, wake up.\" And with those words, he tossed the Siren into the shallow waters hoping that would do something, he would have healed her, but he needed his mana for the fight.\n\n\"CRIMSON STRIKE.\" Brakteon muttered and ran his claymore across his palm, and its odd glowing blade gained a thin red coating as his blood obeyed his command. It was not a guaranteed hit spell, he would have to actually strike a foe for it to happen, and he hoped his luck would be kind enough to send the barely armored brute up first.\n\n If his attack wouldn't hit then it meant he just wasted mana, which was not good because he could tell he had maybe two more good spells in him before fatigue sets in.\n\n Worry about that later, Brakteon. Now, we fight.\n\n Brakteon slid into a fighting stance, raised his sword, and hoped his sister's sense of righteousness would not be the reason for another scar on his body." }, { "author": "generalvan", "message": "The sound of lapping waves was all that could be heard as the five stood on the Findarian beach. The four hunters surrounding the wolf who wielded the blade of his exiled home. To him it was his prized weapon. His instrument of the justice he intends to deliver upon the wicked. To Thalia and her crew it was simply a prize to be won and traded for a mountain of coin. And they were far from novices either. Their formation, their composition, everything about them made it clear they've fought plenty of warriors and have beaten them all. Ser Wealbrig would have to use everything he has if he wants a chance at coming out on top. \n\n```\"I don't doubt your skills, Wealbrig, I'd even admit that I'd struggle if we came to blows. But the thing is I'm sure you know it doesn't matter how good you are if you're outnumbered like this. You still care about justice, right? So why not let us back on out ship so we can-\"```\n\nThe first to notice the flow of mana emanating from his palm would be Ezra, but would have nowhere near enough time to warn the others before their newest quarry vanished beneath a cloud of sand.\n\nPanic gripped the hearts of the hunters like a plague with Ezra placing the ends of his thumbs together to cast *Burning Hands, spraying a plume of fire where Brakteon was standing earlier. Doran stumbled backwards as that very fire began to burn his skin.\n\n```\"H-He's spittin' out fire!\"```\n\nHe calls out, unaware that the source was his own ally. Sirus was the only one of the three who seemed to keep a level head enough to begin climbing the mast of the ship to get into a better position. One which would place them firmly off the ground and away from the vicious dog which had begun to run rampant through the beach.\n\nIt was even enough to catch Thalia off guard who immediately jumped back, preparing for an attack as she saw the wolf dash out from the cloud right at her. A battle hungry grin grew on her face as she prepared her stance.\n\n```\"Wrong choice, dog!\"```\n\nShe exclaimed, preparing for the strike which would never come. Only to see him stop where she was standing moments ago and grasping the Siren she had held captive. Her eyes widened as she watched him begin to dash right around her, just out of range of her blade before tossing her into the shallows. Her body landing in the wet sand face down, slowly moving with the tide. The oathbroken knight would finish by lining his blade with his very own blood. A spell which meant the first of them to be struck first with that spell would be in for some bad news. \n\nThere would be no gloating from Thalia now, her face awash with the grim realization that all four of them had just been outwitted, their advantageous position gone, and now entertaining the prospect of the Siren fleeing into the sea.\n\n```\"Shit... Doran! Ezra!\"```\n\nShe called out as she stepped toward the waters, the two already sallying up close to her. \n\n```\"I'll make the grab, you two are making a Blind Pauper\"```\n\nShe ordered, already trudging through the sand. It wasn't clear what a 'Blind Pauper' was or what that meant, but there wasn't any confusion on the mages or barbarians face. Ezra held up his hands as more mana began to flow through, perhaps for a fireball? A cone of ice? A blade of shadow? But for Brakteon he'd find that no bright color of evocation magic would be seen. In fact, he'd struggle to differentiate colors at all. \n\nHypnotic Pattern\n\nThe same illusion spell they used to stun Nadia before beating her to a bloody pulp. Brakteon's perception would rapidly begin to shift as though he were looking through a kaleidoscope. His balance, his posture, he'd have to put effort to keep that up as the world around him seemed to melt. Hopefully, he'd be able to come back to his senses somehow, or at least adjust with these new senses in time. For Doran, with twin battleaxes, was already charging Brakteon. Ready to complete the Blind Pauper. A move they've done plenty of times." }, { "author": "Brakteon Wealbrig", "message": "Blind Pauper?* Brakteon's confusion was met with a blast of nausea as a set of colors filled his vision, he stumbled backward blinking profusely to get his sight back, but the colors just got wilder, as though a rainbow had come to life and began dancing in his mind scrambling every one of his senses in a horrible stampede. \n\n He had been too focused on hoping the barbarian would approach with bravado, eager to have himself as the one to take him down, but they were still a team, and because Brakteon played them, he should have expected them to take him more seriously. \n\n Move, you fool! \n\n Brakteon could not completely perceive what was going on around him. The last thing he saw was Thalia heading for the Siren and Doran standing close by. If they blinded him then that meant an attack was imminent, he could not defend against a strike he could not see nor hear, and he certainly needed to move fast otherwise, he would be injured. Maybe even killed. \n\n Two more spells. It was risky to spend his mana, clearly their mage was more skilled at magic than he was, but Brakteon needed his sight back, and he still had Crimson Strike in play. He also now knew who was a bigger threat to him.\n\n\"BLOOD SENSE\" Brakteon regained his vision, but not in the sense that he had previously, rather he could see the life force of everyone within three hundred feet.\n\n He could also tell the health of anyone within this radius, but that wasn't relevant, what was useful was that he could see Doran charging at him. \n\n Brakteon regained his footing and in a burst of speed charged at Doran, but rather than bringing his blade to clash with the goliath the Oathbreaker sidestepped completely. \n\n He dropped to his knees, using his momentum and the looseness of the sand to propel himself forward a bit, and as he rose to his feet he swung his Claymore straight for the Mage's face" }, { "author": "generalvan", "message": "In another burst of speed the wolf lunged toward the illusionist. Teeth bared and ready it was in a matter of seconds that he was able to close the distance between him and his target. Using every ounce of focus he has on not only maintaining his magic but also his balance with his senses still warped, he rose his blade high with the clear intent on maiming the young hunter, if not completely severing his head from his body. The fear that Ezra had felt from the wolf at a distance grew into full on terror with his vision blinded by the moonlight blade just inches from his face. With self preservation taking hold, the spell which bewitched Brakteon would quickly fade as their concentration was broken.\n\nHis blade would soon meet the resistance of another spell. *Shield. A transparent sphere tinged in a light blue would envelop Ezra as the blade swung toward him would crash against the force of his mana. In this moment it was a battle of strength. The strength of ones magic against the strength of ones body as blue fractals began to spray in all directions as the shield began to crack under the strain. Gritted teeth and motivated by the primal, desperate need to survive, the illusionist planted his feet and put all his might into maintaining that shield. Only to find that his magic would be found lacking.\n\nHad this been a normal strike, while the shield would shatter, with how much momentum it took it would be likely the mage would still be standing. Wounded, but still standing. But as the blade shattered the shield all the necrotic magic which lined the blade from the Crimson Strike* Prior seeped into him. The mage would be sent into the air before crashing down several feet to the right of the dishonored knight. The only sound escaping from his broken body would be quiet gasps of air while Brakteon's cruel magic ate away at him as he lay powerless.\n\n```\"GODS NO, EZRA!\"```\n\nRoared Doran at the sight of the very mage he had been arguing with moments ago now laying motionless and in agony in the sand. His fury now directed toward the wolf man who's armor was now stained in blood.\n\n```\"You rabid fucking dog!\"```\n\nHe roared, greataxes at the ready. But while he seemed the biggest threat, Brakteon would find he wasn't the most immediate.\n\nThe conflict would mask the twang of the bowstring. The body of Ezra would block Brakteon's view of the arrow sailing right toward him. And only an experienced ranger like Sirus would be able to time an attack just perfectly enough to make it not only unable to be noticed, but unable to be avoided by timing it perfectly with their companions demise. One may think an arrow would do little in the ways of harm to one dressed in full armor from the neck down. One would have to target the head, and at that distance would be near impossible. Which is why the arrow clanged right against the warriors chest. \n\nBefore bursting in a conflagration of fire.\n\nAn explosive arrow, one the ranger seldom had a need for except in extraneous circumstance. And by the gods this monster certainly constituted extraneous circumstance. Even if it didn't kill him, it would certainly hurt as the force of the explosion and the flames all erupted just mere inches away from the dishonored son of house Wealbrig." }, { "author": "Brakteon Wealbrig", "message": "Brakteon had forgotten about the Archer.\n\n In his haze and need to free himself of the Mage, Brakteon had forgotten about the archer whom he had initially put as the first threat due to the distance between them. \n\n He had faced the Berserker after landing Crimson Strike On the Mage, hoping that the rage from seeing a teammate fall would blind his skills, only to look down when the arrow slammed against his armor chest plate and erupted before he could grasp what was happening. \n\n Shit. \n\n The explosion threw Brakteon from his feet, and he tumbled through the air before crashing face-first into the sand. He laid there for a moment, dazed and in great pain, although his armor had taken most of the brunt of the explosion, he knew that the attack had injured him. \n\n The flames from the arrow had singed his fur, covering his face in soot, but fortunately, everything else seemed in place. \n\n Brakteon grunted as he slowly rose to his feet. He looked towards where the arrow had come from and saw the archer was still perched on the ship. It took skill for that kind of shot, and it pained Brakteon that he probably had to kill him for that disrespect. \n\n He pointed a sword at Sirus, a warning or a promise, then turned his attention back to those closest to him.\n\nThe Siren was still unconscious, doing nothing as Thalia approached her, while Doran was ready with his axes. If he had not been hit with that arrow, Brakteon would have been confident enough to face him even with Thalia backing him, but he was now injured. \n\n He could heal himself, but that would be his last spell and that would only refill his stamina, not his mana, and he might need to do something more extreme at a moment's notice. \n\n He needed to play this differently, and he hoped their reaction to their ally's pain was enough for his plan to work.\n\n \"Your friend is in danger,\" Brakteon told them. He stood straight, trying to hide the pain that he was in, and gestured to Ezra. \n\n \"If we drag this out, he will die a horrible death, or at the very least, be greatly injured for the rest of his short life. Leave the Siren alone, and I heal him well enough for you to sail off and get help before he dies. Continue this bout, and while I might not win, only one of you will leave this beach alive. And you will not get very far, that howl I made was to alert my sister. She will ride here with reinforcements, and kill you.\"\n\n That last part was a lie, well not completely. If his sister was still in town, she would have heard his howl and come to help, but she had not shown up yet, so she probably had not heard him. \n\n These bounty hunters did not need to know that, so far nobody seemed to be a shifter, they might not call his bluff on that.\n\n However, the dying friend was true and in front of them. He looked to Thalia with a raised brow.\n\n \"What is your choice, bounty hunter?\"" }, { "author": "generalvan", "message": "The oathbroken wolf began his attempts at parlay with the brute after recovering from the inferno he had undergone. His silver armor now coated in spots of black from both bits of gunpowder and the heating of metal. His words were indeed true. Mostly, at least. Even if he was outnumbered he was the superior fighter. Had it been a duel he would be the winner, even if sustaining more injuries. Numbers was their biggest advantage that they had. If they lost that it meant that there odds of winning would go down substantially.\n\nHowever, while there was truth in his words, Brakteon spoke them to the only one who could hear. Doran the Berserker. Sirus was too far to hear, as was Thalia who was hunting down the Siren. Doran's rage fulled roars louder than any words he could have spoke Had he spoke this to any of the others perhaps they might have listened. Or even before they came to blows when he was given his ultimatum. But that has passed, reputation be damned, blood had been spilt and there was no coming back from that. \n\nBrakteon would only get halfway through his warning before Doran would be upon him, greataxes swinging in a whirlwind, every single second focused entirely on attacking without giving the wolf a second to breath. Defense thrown asunder as he bared the weight of all his anger he has cultivated down upon the knight.\n\nThalia herself would finally grab the Siren by the leg as she pulled the both of them out of the shallow waters. Both covered in salt water as she tossed the limb body of Nadia onto the sand.\n\n```\"Nobodies leaving here until that wolf is dead! Get me that sword!\"```\n\nShe ordered, leaving the Siren to trudge her way over to Doran to aid in the melee. Fortunately for Brakteon, clambering through the waves has made her exhausted, walking on over rather than a full sprint to catch her breath. This meant that there was still an opportunity to act before he would be overwhelmed.\n\nWhat started off in the wolf's favor quickly began to turn in the hunters favor. Injured, outnumbered and now about to endure the force of a raging goliath, things were bad. Really bad." }, { "author": "Brakteon Wealbrig", "message": "Brakteon was never good with diplomacy, despite living in high society, he never got around to knowing when and how to strike deals. This was a clear sign of his failure in that field. Then again, he never liked diplomacy, he was never one for politics. \n\n No. Brakteon was a fighter, a knight who trusted in his sword that he used to kill those who stood in his way, and this was no different.\n\n He had tried to show mercy and grant them a way out of this, but they were now determined to have him dead and take his sword. And by this sword, they would all die.\n\n One last spell. \n\n Brakteon dodged the berserker's incoming attacks by leaping away from reach. He stumbled upon landing, almost falling even, but that was expected in his condition. \n\n He then took a deep breath, placed a hand on his chest, and focused on his heartbeat, on the blood flowing through every vein in his body. \n\n He could feel it rushing with power, begging to be used against the enemies before him, but instead, the knight focused his mana inwards, casting the first spell he had used today on himself.\n\nSANGUINE RECOVERY \n\n A simple spell, one of the first he ever learned, but oh so very useful. Instantly, all signs of injury faded from him, though his armor was still scorched, and his fur still singed, the Shifter stood straighter now, the pain fading into obscurity and replaced with newfound strength and stamina. \n\n No more spells, only the grace of his family's sword, and the Bright Moon Claymore has never glowed brighter.\n\n \"Fine then. Bleed.\" \n\n Brakteon charged at the Berserker, and seeing that Doran had decided to forsake defending himself, swung the claymore straight for the Goliath's midsection, hoping that whatever injury he would receive from the wild axe swings would dwarf the damage his sword would accomplish on the bare skin of his opponent." }, { "author": "generalvan", "message": "Berserkers like Doran seldom faced warriors who could come close to matching their strength. Their talents were intimidation, and if needed, obliteration. The Goliath's enemies were smaller, with lighter weapons or basic spells. It was the benefit of working with the rest of the hunters. Thalia's planning always put him far away from anyone who could deal actual damage and left him to mop up collections of lesser warriors, or to gang up on a stronger one if need be. As was the plan before Ezra was taken out of the fight and it became a proper duel. And as both warriors struck one another it was clear that ones armor proved much stronger than ones rage.\n\nBrakteon's blade dug into deep into Doran's waist. The thick skin he had cultivated from over a dozen stab wounds and cuts would cave before the might of the legendary blade of house Wealbrig as for a brief moment his insides would light with its azure light. A torrent of blood began to spill out onto the sands before he was even halfway done, only to be followed by a bundle of intestines spilling out as the warrior who towered over him crumpled onto the ground, the anger and life leaving him as his last moments would be frighteningly aware of his demise before collapsing onto the sand. By the time he hit the ground he'd have a few seconds of agonizing consciousness left before finally succumbing from shock.\n\nTwo down. Two to go.\n\nIt seems Brakteon's focus entirely on offense seems to have won him a critical blow. Despite being outnumbered and facing a raging berserker he fell the giant with a single strike. Yes, he was able to land a blow on him in exchange but with the armor he wore it would mean nothing. Right?\n\nSnap\n\nTwo heavy axes would crash down onto the wolfs left arm as he was midswing. His armor protecting him from the force of having the arm severed buy did nothing to stop the impact of the giants dying strike. His arm bent upwards at an improper angle as his grip on the blade loosened. He'd have to finish disemboweling the man with one arm as a vibrant agony began to radiate from the impact site.\n\nBy the time that the adrenaline of the attack began to fade it became increasingly clear what had happened.\n\nIn his dying moment, Doran had entirely shattered Brakteon's left arm.\n\nAn injury far greater than that he had sustained since the fight began. And now out of magic, what had once seemed a victory for him had come at a horrible price as he was left to face two hunters with only one arm for his giant blade.\n\nThalia's eyes watched Doran collapse to the ground. A cold look of analytical recognition that remained until the life finally left him. And the leader of the hunters let out a chuckle at her companions demise.\n\n```\"Oh well. Makes splitting the gold I'll make much simpler\"```\n\nShe remarks, stepping over Doran's corpse only stopping a swords length and a half before the wolf. Behind her, in a flash of magical smoke was the ranger, Sirus. A quick *Misty Step* Was all that was needed, bow aimed at the wolf before Thalia shook her head.\n\n```\"I don't want that Siren to sneak off during this. I can handle him, just get her on that boat and wait for me\"```\n\nShe ordered, the ranger silently nodding as they made their way over to the beaten Siren.\n\n```\"You look tired, Wealbrig. It's not too late to leave here with your life. Hand me that sword and I'll be too busy with my fortune to even remember what happened here. Unless you think you can still win, with one arm, mind you.\"```" }, { "author": "Brakteon Wealbrig", "message": "Well... Shit\n\n Brakteon fell to his knees as the pain of his left arm overwhelmed him and only kept from falling completely by driving the claymore into the sand. He could feel his consciousness slipping with every rapid heartbeat, and black spots formed in his vision as he tried his best to focus on the woman in front of him. \n\n He could hear her clearly though, because even though he was in slight panic, his mind raced to find a way out of this. \n\n He knew a full-on attack would result in some consequence, but he had overestimated his already damaged armor, and now his left arm was shattered. \n\n Killing the Berserler was a necessary move, but he had expected himself capable of facing Thalia immediately after, and now, here he was barely able to wield his sword.\n\n Gods... Why had he done this? For some stubborn Siren he just met? He could have been halfway across Findara sleeping in the manor now, but no, he came back here to help an ungrateful person, and now he might die on this stupid beach.\n \n Maybe he didn't need to die, maybe he just needed to give her the sword, and she would leave him alone. So what if he treasured the sword? He was disowned by his own mother, he is only Wealbrig by name, and he could not claim the Estate. Was it worth his life? \n\n No. Not the sword. Never the sword.\n\n Fine, if he did not want to part with the blade, maybe he could lie about surrendering. A false surrender, have her think she has the upper hand, and get her in... Close.\n\nBrakteon looked up as the realization struck him, and after a moment of silence, the Shifter began to laugh. He laughed as though he was not bleeding to death, and then he slowly rose to his feet using his sword for leverage. \n\n \"You are afraid.\"\n\n He pointed at Thalia with his broken arm. \"I am bleeding, I can barely stand, and yet you still stand out of my sword's reach, because you are afraid. But what should I expect from a coward? You send your men to weaken me and then think yourself the victor as you stand over their corpses. Only a coward hides behind their soldiers.\" \n\n \"What were Doran's last moments like I wonder, as he realised he had died for an ungrateful leader? And this one?\" He gestured to the Mage who was still suffering. \"As his mind sinks further, does he grasp that you will do nothing to help him? Not even bury him?\" \n\n Brakteon tightened his grip on his sword and kicked it, causing it to swing upwards and land on his shoulder. The weight almost knocks him back to the ground, but with gritted teeth, he stays upright and stares at Thalia. \n\n \"I am Brakteon fucking Wealbrig. I do not have much honor left, and I might die a fool, but I will never die a coward. I promised that only one of you would leave this place if I met my end here. So come, Thalia Kharsis, and let us meet death together if you are not afraid.\"" }, { "author": "generalvan", "message": "The head hunter stood as Brakteon made his remarks about her cowardess. The distance that she decided to keep. The callousness for her companions. That look of excitement for the fight ahead slowly fading the more he went on. She paced back and forth, her sword skimming against the sand as Brakteon defiantly tossed his blade over his shoulder and challenged her to battle. A bold display that certainly seems to have an effect on the bladeswoman. Was it anger? Was she moved by his bravery? Was she disheartened.\n\nBut with a scoff and a shake of the head it was clear. She was bored.\n\n\"Gods is this how you got your reputation, talking people to death?\"\n\nShe remarked tilting her head to the side, her neck cracking, her shoulders rolling, a short little warm-up before blades would cross.\n\n\"Gotta say though this... Whatever you call this, makes me want to kill you quicker just to shut you up!\"\n\nHer blade swung to the side, her feet pressing against the sand as she rushed toward Brakteon in a sprint.\n\nSirus themselves had finally made their way over to Nadia. Bow placed snug with string across their chest. The Siren lay facedown in the sand, still as unconscious as ever since the fight had begun. The ranger knelt down to roll the girl over, planning to toss her over their shoulder. Only the minute that they had gotten her onto her back her hand slammed right against the side of their head." }, { "author": "Nadia Laomedia", "message": "*Shocking Grasp\n\nA deception that the ranger had fallen for as magical lightning corsed through their body. A muffled scream could be heard beneath their mask as they tried to pull away, only for Nadia to use her other hand to grab onto the rangers wrist. The ranger would be on their feet for a little over a second before finally collapsing on their back, twitching and spasming. Nadia fell onto her hands and knees catching her breath. Blood from her wounded forehead streaming down her face as she tried her best to stand.\n\nWhile this would be excellent for Brakteon, now having one more hunter to deal with. He was injured, exhumed, and dealing with the strongest hunter of them all. How was the dishonoed son of house Wealbrig going to get oufit of this one?" }, { "author": "Brakteon Wealbrig", "message": "A broken arm, bleeding wounds, damaged armor, yet Brakteon Wealbrig stood. He could feel the cold arms of death hanging over his neck, and he could hear its whispers as his consciousness threatened to vanish, but Brakteon was born with fur so the cold never bothered him anyway. He was a knight, injured yes, gruesomely even, but he could still swing a sword... In a sense. \n\n From the corner of his vision, he noticed Nadia finally waking up and defying her supposed fate. Despite her injuries, she had taken down the archer, so what stopped Brakteon from doing the same? It was just a shattered arm, he still had his favored arm. \n\n Brakteon took a deep breath and steadied his mind. If he could not kill this enemy, he would ensure that she was injured enough for the Siren to escape this place.\n\n NO! WE WILL NOT DIE THIS DAY. WE STILL HAVE BODIES TO BURY! FIGHT, WEALBRIG!\n\n With the declaration in his mind, Brakteon abandoned any sense of sacrificing his life. He promised his fallen friend vengeance, and vengeance was not on this beach. \n\n He dropped to a low crouch, as he had done at the beginning of this whole encounter, but he cast no spell, instead, the Shifter did something entirely different.\n\nBrakteon jumped. \n\n Putting whatever strength he had left into his legs, the knight leaped from the beach, earning a height advantage on the hunter, and on the way back down, he let gravity add to the force of his swing because there was no more power left in his bleeding body. \n\n A gamble, it was an unorthodox approach to a fight, one he hoped would catch the huntress by surprise enough to land a hit, but he knew her skills, he had swung with his left in case she would strike at him. \n\n The already injured arm would take whatever consequence came with this move, and he prayed to whatever god was listening he would be granted luck for his deeds tonight." }, { "author": "generalvan", "message": "The warrior stood defiant. Battered in body but still vigorous in mind. Despite starting this battle off drastically outnumbered his choices, his skill, his martial prowess has helped him overcome every challenge that he has faced. Only now, he faced the biggest challenge yet. With every other hunter now incapacitated or dead, all that was left was to deal with the leader and Brakteon will have claimed the glory the comes with a victory like this. It was much easier said than done. His prized weapon, that mighty greatsword who's weight proved capable of felling the strongest of his opponents now had its size become its biggest disadvantage.\n\nWith no lighter weapon within reach, it would have to do. The huntress Thalia already sprinting at him as his mind raced for what he could do to secure victory. For a brief moment though, when he crouched down with blade over his shoulder, he could see the faint look of recognition in the eyes of Thalia before he had taken to the air. Only to see that she had stopped her charge and now stood right to the side of where his blade would collide. Unfortunately, that pose was the exact same one he used when the fight began, the one he used to advance right in front of Thalia at blinding speed. By now the huntress knew to be on guard when he adopts that stance, and while she wasn't expecting him to leap she was able to react appropriately.\n\nAn upward slash would be sent toward Brakteon's neck. A clear attempt to decapitate the wolf as he descended, his headless body landing on the ground with a heavy thud. Yet this wouldn't be the end of the wolves tactics, his damaged arm boldly swung before him as it collided with the blade. The swordswoman eyes grew wide as the blade clanged against the metal arm. A rush of pain would shoot through the broken limb but the armor would mean such an injury was simply superficial. \n\nBut just as it seemed that Brakteon had avoided any and all damage, a heavy impact would land right beneath his maw, crushing right into his throat. Thalia, while maintaining perfect balance, had delivered a devastating high kick aiming at the wolfs neck. To make an attack like that right after the first before Brakteon even had the chance to touch the ground made one thing clear. Thalia was fast. Very fast. Brakteon might have struggled hitting her before with both arms, but with just the one what hope did he have now.\n\nThe wolf would collapse onto the ground, but with his head intact. The bladeswoman confidently standing over him, a swordlength away. Of course, this would be a fine time to finish the job. What better time to strike with the opponent dazed and battered on the cold sand? But she didn't seem all to keen just yet. For the huntress was so assured of her victory she used the time to gloat.\n\n```\"You and the squid over there. Do you both just forget that I have eyes when you pull moves and magic like that right in front of me? I-\"```\n\nClang" }, { "author": "Nadia Laomedia", "message": "The sound of Brakteon's armor being struck would ring out as an aquatic dagger would bounce right off his leg. Thalia turned to see an exhaused Nadia, arm extended after throwing her dagger, her last reliable weapon she had on hand.\n\nGods what am I doing?\n\nShe questioned staring down the hunter who had just stomped her face into the sand moments ago. Truth be told she wouldn't mind seeing this knight get cut down right where he lay. He was a tyrant, an oppressor, how many innocents had he killed before those two right there? He was just boasting about killing them earlier while she faked being unconsciousness. The body of Sirus twitched and spasmed as faint sparks of lighting flowed. But he was still alive. Despite being one who called for the elimination of all gods and monarchs, Nadia was highly averse to death. Murder was the tool of those who don't value life. It's why knights distribute death so easily, so liberally, so callously. Like Brakteon.\n\nThat's what she said his name was, right? Of course he was a noble too, as if being a knight wasn't enough. His kind would be those she didn't mind seeing dead, even if she wouldn't kill them herself. People like him deserved it.\n\nBut why now did she just do that? Why not flee to the ocean and leave the knight to his fate? It goes against everything she stands for. But fact of the matter is, if he hadn't been here she'd be on the boat back to Lazaroth for execution. Even if he was a despicable deathmonger, she owed him this much.\n\n```\"Did... Did you have your eyes closed? That wasn't even near me\"```\n\nThalia mocked, turning to face Nadia as she took a step forward.\n\n```\"Gods I can't believe I have to do everything myself. Ah well. Not going to matter when I have enough gold to make a mountain out of when I bring you back to Lazaroth. After getting that luxury sword of the wolf.\"```\n\nAs Brakteon's sense would return, he'd see the dagger which now lay on the ground near him. The Siren's eyes looking at him with dreadful expectation before looking back at the dagger. \n\nIt was clear, she certainly hit her target.\n\nCould a wounded knight with a dagger really beat a swordswoman who beat him in speed? Unlikely.\n\nBut, a dagger is a far easier weapon to use single handedly than his greatsword. \n\nBrakteon was wounded, but he was still armored. As many strikes as he took Thalia's sword couldn't pierce him from the neck down. And now with a new weapon, the question remained.\n\nWhat will you do with it? Son of House Wealbrig?" }, { "author": "Brakteon Wealbrig", "message": "Stars. Brakteon saw stars above as his mind attempted to gain control of his body. The kick had come as a surprise, one that had done more damage than he thought it would. \n\n His gamble had failed. The huntress had seen his iconic crouch and had countered his move, and now he lay in the sand, barely understanding what occurred around him.\n\n Everything hurt. From head to toe, brakteon felt an ungodly ache. His shattered arm had taken even more damage, his vision was blurry, and his grip on the claymore was loosening. He was having no luck in this fight. He was too injured to fight on.\n\n He rolled his head to look at Thalia. She was gloating over his takedown, and he could feel his conscience slipping, but then something struck his leg.\n\n Brakteon looked further down the beach and saw the Siren, she had thrown her dagger and hit his leg, causing both his and Thalia's attention to focus on her.\n\n Why in the name of the moon had she done that? What horrid aim did she have to strike him rather than the huntress' neck when she was distracted with him? \n\n It was only when their eyes met that he would understand that she intended for him to use it. She had dragged Thalia's attention so that Brakteon could muster strength and use her weapon. A good plan, but the fault was that Brakteon never swung another blade. No daggers, no throwing knives, if the Brightmoon Claymore was not in his hands then his claws would have to do. \n\n Also, he had no more strength to muster. He could move, but at a pace slower than a turtle. His joints pained him severely, and as Thalia approached the Siren, he did not know what else to do.\n\n Until the stench of blood filled his nose. \n\n Not his. No. The brute and the mage that lay in the sand with him.\n\nMany believed Henomancy to be sacrilegious. The art of commanding blood, the very life essence of beings, was disturbing to most. Even to Brakteon. \n\n But it was also powerful. Ever since he trained in the art he knew. So, despite what others said, he used the magic whenever necessary. \n\n The goliath was dead and gone, his soul now on the plain beyond this one. But the mage, the unfortunate mage, he was dancing at the edge of the afterlife. So Brakteon pushed him over it. \n\n \"DRAIN.\" The word left his mouth as a whisper, but it was a command nonetheless, and being that the victim was already suffering, he could not fight back against the spell. \n\n Brakteon's breath hitched as the energy began flowing through him, stealing whatever life force was within the dying man. \n\n He felt his bruises begin to heal, and his stamina replenish, and although his broken arm remained the same, Brakteon was more interested in getting back on his feet, which he eventually did after the spell's completion. \n\n The vampiric drain only healed half his injuries. He could still feel a little sting coming from where her kick had hit him, but what mattered was he was standing again. His left arm hung by his side, useless. \n\n At this point, he was probably noticed. He was standing again, which probably annoyed Thalia because how many times could a man fall? And the answer to that was until he was dead. \n\n \"Oi,\" He called to the Siren and kicked the dagger across the beach. \"If you cannot fight your battles, then you will lose all the wars. And you.\" He turned his attention back to Thalia. \"I apologize for pulling such a predictable move on you. I will now fight you properly,\"\n\nBrakteon slid his broadsword up and rested it on his shoulder, he did not crouch, instead, the knight took a deep breath and charged at the swordswoman. \n\n He was moving at half his speed, more than enough time for the Thalia to relax, but what she probably would not expect was how Brakteon decided to swing his sword.\n\n Brakteon had taken her speed into account, she was superior to him, and she could use that if she got in close, so he swung his sword with the flat side facing her. Unorthodox, which was a tactic he had now had to use twice. \n\n Her chance of escaping the wide blade would be narrow, and though he was half healed his strength was still formidable if she decided to parry. \n\n He was not expecting this to do much damage, he was down on his luck, down one arm, and out of spells. \n\n This was a last effort, a final wind, and his only prayer was that his words reached the Siren, that she would follow up to finish this all, otherwise they lose. He did not want to lose tonight." }, { "author": "Nadia Laomedia", "message": "Pick it up, pick it up... Come on, you're a knight and I'm handing you a weapon this should come natural to you\n\nNadia's thoughts raced as she took a step back with the untouchable huntress continuing her approach. A look of predatory glee lining her face, her fingers curling around the handle as moonlight danced off the blades edge. While Nadia was still capable of more than Brakteon at the moment, there was little of it that would help her. She wasn't a warrior, she was just an artificer. She stumbled back, her hand brought up to her face to wipe away the stream of blood from her head wound, smearing the substance across the side of her face. \n\nShe took another glance at Brakteon, hoping to see him try to stand, to prepare an attack, something with her dagger. But her eyes grew wide at the sight of what he had been doing during this time. A stream of red mana escaped the mouth of the dying mage, his choking breaths barely audible as the knight put an end to his suffering. Nadia, who was entirely unfamiliar with the magic at play was not only shocked but absolutely furious. As it seemed, the knight was using this time to prey upon the weak instead of helping her. The hunter was part of the crew out to get her, certainly. But it just seemed he couldn't help himself but slaughter someone who couldn't fight back.\n\nRegardless, this was just the thing the wolf needed to get back onto his feet. Kicking her dagger back toward her as he called both their attention.\n\n\"I...\"\n\nShe quietly muttered in absolute shock. \n\nThalia on the other hand craned her head over her shoulder to see the son of house Wealbrig still standing. A look of joyful surprise as she let the tip of her blade sink into the sand.\n\n```\"What's this now, dog? Your second wind or your dying gasp?\"```\n\nBlades poised, the two dashed toward one another, ready to bring this brawl to its blood conclusion. Nadia herself, now with the huntress's back turned to her, aimed her gauntlet, a jet of pressurized water shooting out before the two could clash.\n\nBrakteon's feigned weakness was believable enough for the overconfident duelist who eagerly shifted her focus on her attack. Her blade unable to pierce his armor, she put all her focus toward the only open spot she had. The neck up, hoping for a swift decapitation. She could easily strike first and even if she couldn't he wasn't fast enough to hit her. The sudden glimmer of moonlight in the corner of her eye being the indication that Brakteon's speed had suddenly increased. No matter, she's simply parry the blade over her and-\n\nBy the time she realized the blade was turned would be too late as the metal crashed into Thalia's body like a solid right hook. Her speed doing her no favors as she would be sent sprawling onto the beach. Bruised and now with her own head wound to match Nadia. The first solid strike Brakteon had gotten since this fight started.\n\nAlthough, this would be short lived.\n\nWounded, certainly. But Thalia seemed tougher than expected. Now weilding her blade in one hand, her foot dug into the sand as the momentum that sent her would pass as she shot herself forward for a second charge. Her eyes wide, smiling through gritted teeth and a body that screamed out in pain. She swung her blade sideways, too fast for the wolf to act, putting an end to his journey he had undergone for so many years.\n\nOnly, that blade wouldn't touch him. Wouldn't even graze his neck.\n\nBy the time the both realized that the other wasn't dead would be about the time they saw Thalia's blade had been snapped in half. \n\n\"Be judged for your misdeeds, murtherer\"\n\nThe Siren muttered, her blast of water slicing the blade in two during the first charge, the wielder only noticing its shortened size by the time she was now within less than a sword length from the wolf.\n\nAt the distance they were at now, in that brief moment before the both of them could act. The look of sadistic glee was gone from Thalia Kharsis's face. Now replaced by the dread and terror every warrior knows in those brief moments before their opponent strikes.\n\n```\"Shit...\"```\n\nIf Brakteon had anything left in him, now was the time to end this." }, { "author": "Brakteon Wealbrig", "message": "The Oathbreaker was tired. He'd been blown up, kicked, beaten, and enchanted. He was bleeding still, his arm shattered, and his knees on the verge of collapsing. \n\n But he was still angry. \n\n This night could have been so simple, he gave them a chance to walk away from this, to survive his wrath, but they didn't listen. No. Stubborn fuckers, stupid people who thought themselves stronger than him, and it almost proved true. \n\n He needed to do better, be stronger. There had to be a way to grow stronger so that idiots would not bother him anymore. That was for later though. \n\n For tonight, there was a target suited for his rage. \n\n He could not swing the sword anymore, it was far too heavy for his one arm now. However, as his father often said, when the blade could not be swung one must become a weapon. \n\n \"I gave you a chance, Thalia,\" He told her.\n\nBrakteon dropped his sword and grabbed Thalia's torso, stabbing his claws into her skin, ignoring whatever retaliation she put up as he stared right at her. \n\n \"Know that as you stand before your gods, that you ignored my mercy.\" \n\n The wolf she had been calling dog throughout the night finally bit her like one, sinking his fangs into her neck with horrid strength, ripping through her as she screamed out in pain. \n\n He didn't stop, even when she went limp the Knight tore out her throat and spat the mound of flesh onto the sand before tossing her corpse aside. \n\n Brakteon turned to the Siren, the cause of all this. \"Finally decided to fight,\" He said. \"Good.\" He picked up his claymore and dragged it along because he was far too tired to even sheathe it. \n\n He took slow heavy steps to reach her, his amber eyes locking with her for a long moment of silence, then they fell on the fallen archer. \n\n He promised if he was to die that only one of them were to die. But he has not died tonight, and so his promise was null. \n\n So without stressing he simply let go of the sword allowing its blade to cleave straight through the archer's neck, killing them without struggle.\n\nIt was cruel, yes, but necessary. From the Siren's recent actions Brakteon guessed she was against this all, but death was a consequence of life and the actions of these people have brought death upon themselves as he had almost done countless times. \n\n Brakteon looked towards the town, where civilisation stood at a distance. He won't make the walk back. He was too beaten for that and so he turned back to the Siren. \n\n \"Listen to me carefully, I do not know who you are, and I only hope my actions were right, but I want answers. You can run and you can hide, but if you do, know that I will hunt you. Go into town and ask for Juteon Wealbrig, she is my sister, tell her I am on the beach and tell her what happened. Follow her, she will take us to my home where we will be taken care of. Run and you will not get far.\"\n\n Brakteon walked over to a small boulder, sat against it, and he sighed in relief, the dread of death now fleeting. The first son of the Wealbrig House has survived again. \n\n But gods was he tired." }, { "author": "generalvan", "message": "The wolves claws dug deep into Thalia's chest as her blade dropped onto the sand. All the adrenaline in her body spilling out with her blood which colored the sand beneath the two of them red. All her experience, all her skill, all she's done. She was so close to getting that sword. To be rich beyond her wildest dreams. She had Brakteon dead to rights had that Siren not intervened. One clean swing and his head would tumble off his shoulders, a move she's done countless times. \n\nFunny how things work out.\n\nIn her final moments, Thalia let out a quiet chuckle. Blood now spilling from her mouth as the wolfs claws dug deeper into her torso.\n\n```\"Want to know something, Wealbrig?\"```\n\nShe asked, a blood stained palm now resting on his shoulder as she leaned in next to his ear.\n\n```\"You killed me, not going to pretend you didn't... But you know what I learned about you from all this? You're ridged, rusty, and alone. So long as you carry that blade of yours death is gonna follow your every step. Plenty of others like me in the world. All with their own little desires that sword'll grant them while you wander around Findara like some vagabond spending the rest of your days feeling sorry for yourself until someone finally ki-\"```\n\nThe wolves teeth digging into her neck would be what stopped her farewell to Brakteon as blood began to fill her windpipe before being torn entirely from her throat. The swordswoman falling onto the sand wide eyed and staring at the stars in the sky. By the time that Brakteon had let his blade behead Sirus in the way she tried to behead him she had finally died. Whether it be choking on her own blood or from losing so much of it." }, { "author": "Nadia Laomedia", "message": "The young Siren had grown at the bottom of the ocean. That tyrannical city that she called home. She knew cruelty was a tool that is common to knights of the surface as well. But the kind she'd seen was always for intimidation, for ensuring obedience with any who would question the regime. Nadia had seen nothing like this. Her blood soaked savior stepping over the woman who he just maimed to execute the unconscious ranger.\n\nThere was no joy or hate, just a simple raising of his arm and letting the blade do the rest. To end a life so casually. She could understand why, they tried to kill him and kidnap her. But they were defenseless, unconscious, at the very least wait for them to wake up, have the decency to look them in the eyes and let them know their end was coming. Life was a valuable thing. And Brakteon ended that one like he was casually snuffing out a candle.\n\nShe immediately stumbled backward when he approached her. Raising her gauntlet, ready to drill a hole through him if he took a step closer. She saved his life but he doubted he'd care much about that. Fortunately, he didn't try anything, but simply gave her orders. Go inland, find his sister, tell her to get him and wait. If she didn't, he'd hunt her down.\n\nShe had to admit, the prospect of that frightened her given the massacre he had left. Even if she was feigning unconsciousness for half of it she could hear the screams, the tearing of flesh. He was a monster. Maybe that's why he kept that sword, so he'll have the opportunity to kill more fools who try to take it from him. \n\nNadia herself was physically weak, prone to sickness, still recovering from her injuries and not even 5 feet tall. Brakteon could easily kill her if he wanted. \n\nShe watched as he stumbled off to a nearby rock, leaning up against it as he let his head hang low. Perhaps passing out from exhaustion?\n\nRegardless, Nadia had no intention of going to his home. She couldn't trust him and had no way of knowing his intentions with her. P\n\nRobably still thinking she was some pirate. And she knew explaining would be a waste of breath, he'd never understand. She was now debating if saving his life was the right now.\n\nThe siren trudged along the beach as she climbed abord the ship that the 4 hunters had arrived in. Focusing her magic on a Control Water* Spell the tides began to extend further inland, pulling the ship out of the sand as it now floated along the waters. Turning the wheel she directed the vessel further out to sea as she sailed from Findaran shores. She likely wouldn't be coming back here for quite some time while Brakteon was still roaming about.\n\nBut for now, she had more work to do. She was going to sail her way back to Inyelion to continue her work against the tyrants of Lazaroth. \n\nDespite what had happened, she was not disuaded in her mission. \n\nIf anything, she was now more emboldened then she was before." } ]	640.5	23,553
330.740741	1776-07-04	GuildPublicThread	[ { "author": "Aewerin", "message": "Long and lingering looks through the labyrinthian halls of the Order's library would lend most to a sort of madness, especially those novices that had never experienced such a place before. Tomes by the thousands sat sorted, at times stirring by the shift of subtle spells woven into the shelves themselves, causing them to fly or even slip between space to order themselves.\n\nThere was those rare few with a gift for seeing into this forest and seeing every root, stem, and trunk clearly. The librarians, curators upon whose shoulders much of the Order's-... Well, -order,- was held, possessed rare gifts of the mind to handle the burden of organization. At the nexus of the many-leveled rooks that made up the library, each holding amassments of archives, chambers, and laboratories, was where many of the librarians could be found. And it was here a guest had come, in the deep hours of a stormy night, seeking help.\n\nAewerin, eyes already buggered by black-ish bags that swelled slightly from her fights against rest, slowly and carefully walked herself over to find any librarian she could with a far too rigid back. At times, small huffs come from her, as she uses both hands to hold a sizable column of tomes that stretched from her navel to under her chin, which she used to clamp them together.\n\nHer eyes trace one way, and then another, before sliding the tomes onto the table, a begrudging look of frustration on her face - one a librarian would well recognize as someone not having found what they were looking for, and growing jaded for it. Aewerin's robes and hair were both messed by a slight layer of dust, likely from flying books overhead raining upon her. Though, even with that in mind, she must've spent hours on end studying to have reached such a state.\n\nThough - it remained to be seen who would come to help her, if anyone at all." }, { "author": "Bibi", "message": "If there was anything Bibi could appreciate, it was the peace and quiet of the library at night. There were no loud and obnoxious Acolytes, no couples trying to do all sorts of things inappropriate for a library, no people trying to come in here with food and ruin her - ahem - The Books, it was just... Quiet. The few people that came here so late were usually the most studious or curious of people, and those tended to know how to behave in a place like this.\n\nStill, that didn't mean she was slacking on her duties at all. She was walking around the place quietly, her soft leather boots barely making a sound on the marble floor, hands folded behind her back and her gaze sharp. Mentally, she kept a map of where the few stragglers were approximately located, and she made sure to locate everyone at least once every ten minutes, keeping track of their activities. While walking around, she also picked out any books that had been misplaced, putting them back where they belonged - even if the magic of the library could do it for her, there was something relaxing about doing it herself.\n\nIt wasn't rare for the owlish woman to be compared to a prison guard, and with how vigilant her gaze was, few were inclined to disagree. It wasn't an entirely accurate comparison, though. She was just concerned about her - ahem - The Library, and the books found within. Many were hundreds of years old, or incredibly rare, and any damage done to them would be catastrophic, and much to her annoyance, it was rare for people to understand that. So, she watched the place carefully, more than ready to kick out anyone that ignored the rules posted clearly on the door.\n_ _\n\nIn her wanderings, something - or rather, someone - was quick to catch her attention. It wasn't an unfamiliar face, Bibi had seen her around a couple of times, though she was blanking on the other's name. That didn't matter right now, though. What mattered was that she appeared to be lost, in that way only scholars unable to find what they were looking for appeared lost. \"Do you require assistance?\" She thus asked, her voice soft, as was appropriate for a library. Bibi kept her back straight and her hands folded behind it as she spoke, perhaps appearing somewhat stiff to those that weren't familiar with her, but in reality, she was quite relaxed - after all, this was her domain, and she knew it like the back of her hand, she had no reason to be nervous here." }, { "author": "Aewerin", "message": "The night made for a natural sort've shade for Aewerin's ever-busy mind. There, when others slept, she could put aside - if only somewhat - that poking, prodding, pricking feeling of business that she had to meet. An incessant draw between tasks that seemed to come from an always deepening well of black that sat heavy in the dells of her doubts.\n\nBut here, in the library, at night? Aewerin only had the stars and the books to keep her mind occupied, so she could focus even better. Sleep be damned. And it was- often. Bibi could see it on her face, that Elf who she's seen a handful of times, for all the years they've spent in the same tower. That familiar edifice of self-imposed suffering in studying. But, the Elf seemed to bear something of a thin smile, a not-so-subtle surliness withdrawn away out of respect for the librarians, whose domain she stood within.\n\n\"-You- must be the famous Bibi.\" Aewerin smiles, a bit more snark in it now. Whatever the implication was- well, the Shifter could likely well-reason it was the way that she guarded this place and its vested purpose so vigilantly. Few are those that'd dare leave things out of place intentionally, before the ghostly owl comes looming around the corner to correct it.\n\n\"I— do need some assistance, yes.\" Aewerin's lip coils, a serpentine and jagged little sneer that tells of all her discontent at needing to ask. The tomes she possessed, all fragments and second-hand accounts of history of Dol Boldhar - that lost and legendary place below the earth.\n\n\"I don't know-...\" Another coil of her lip, changing her mind on how to word it. \"I haven't yet found a tome that compiles the locations of entrances to Dol Boldhar. I need it for- well. It's needed.\" \n\nShe gives off a huff, leaning a fist back to press it into her lower spine, bending back to a surprisingly and viscerally loud crack, accompanied by a muffled, muted grunt." }, { "author": "Murmur", "message": "Then, as if summoned by the sound, a shadowly little figure pounced onto the counter and sat. The housecat- no, something else wearing the disguise of a cat- left an oddly pale, moonlight colored reflection where a shadow should sit from flickering magelight candles, as its tail slowly swayed side to side. It was a familiar.\n\nLooking up at Bibi, it just tilted its head, pupilless eyes unable to be tracked for where they looked, and for how long. It seemed friendly enough, and avoided making contact with the tomes." }, { "author": "Bibi", "message": "Famous? Bibi would hardly call herself that - in fact, she was extremely reluctant to do so, she would rather not be all that well-known. But, she supposed, for someone that frequented the library, her name would be one that would come up occasionally, perhaps even frequently. She was probably the librarian that took her job the most seriously, because she didn't consider it her job, not really. It was what she'd always wanted to do in life.\n\n\"That is me,\" She said anyway, not a hint of a smile on her face - she seemed to prefer playing the role of stern librarian, at least for now. \"And what might your name be?\" Bibi couldn't help being a little curious, she'd seen the other around a lot, and she did seem like the studious type, which was a type the Beastwalker liked to see in her library.\n\nHer gaze darted to the books the Elf was carrying, earning her a slight raise of the eyebrow. Those were some unusual tomes to be reading, many of them hadn't been checked out in all the time that Bibi was the librarian. Admittedly, that was the case for most books here, because there were so many, but still, it caught her interest.\n\nBibi remained quiet when the other requested her help, noting that she seemed to be somewhat reluctant to ask. Was she one of those types who always thought she could do everything on her own? It was not an unusual sight here - though luckily this person didn't seem to be the most stubborn one out there, actually able to accept help when it was offered.\n\nDol Boldhar? That did explain the books already on the table. Bibi gave a slight furrowing of her brow as she crossed her left arm over her chest and absently tapped her chin with the index finger of her right, her gaze darting around the shelves, deep in thought. \"I might have some ideas...\" She mumbled, and though she was about to speak once more, she was startled by the sight of the creature leaping onto the counter.\n_ _\n\nInstinctively, the feathers upon her head stood up straight, and even her hair stood on end a little, making her appear somewhat taller as she flinched, staring at the... Whatever the hell that was. Luckily, it didn't appear to be dangerous, but it did scare the life out of her.\n\nBibi took a breath to calm herself down, quickly flattening her hair with both hands. \"Pets and familiars are not allowed in here,\" She stated, and with her left hand, pointed to the rules posted Clearly On the door, which did indeed say that - it was the third rule. The right hand, she held hidden behind her back, curled into a tight ball - the urge to start fiddling with something was nigh impossible to resist, but she did anyway, not wanting to embarrass herself in front of the Elf." }, { "author": "Aewerin", "message": "The lack of immediate reaction brought a little smile to the Elf's lip, who tilted her head aside and leaned her elbows on the stack of books, peeking over them at Bibi. Though- a small break in her composure came as she adjusted her back to another few muffled cracks and a small grunt.\n\n\"Aewerin- just one of the Chroniclers.\" The Elf hums, leaving it at that and that alone. She had a bit of a reputation for a firebrand of a tongue and a ferocity of spellwork, but the subjectivety of that was... Polarizing among her peers within the Order. Aewerin wasn't entirely sure what Bibi thought either, curious about the Beastwalker's listlessness and directness of tone.\n\nAewerin perked up a bit at the mention of ideas- though for the sudden flourish of feathers in the fright Bibi had, Aewerin's lips pursed as she traced up and down the pattern of blacks and whites, before noticing that her vision kept focusing firmly on Bibi's golden eyes, in fermenting fascination.\n\nBlinking once, and then twice as she realized she didn't respond immediately to Bibi's words, Aewerin then shook her head, giving a swaying little 'go, go' wave towards Murmur." }, { "author": "Murmur", "message": "Who- at that- gave an audible and too-human 'Hmph!' before continuing his complaints as he hops off the counter.\n\n\"In any half-way civilized order, I would make the rules here— damnable! Damnation, I say!\" He speaks in a spectral tone, as he saunters out of the library after whispering his exaggerated little complaints. He was sure to find and make some trouble, but nothing in Bibi's- err- the Order's Library. And behind him trailed that strange, moonlight colored shadow." }, { "author": "Aewerin", "message": "Watching him go, for a moment, she turned back to Bibi, lifting a hand plaintively. \"Murmur likes to think of himself as royalty- he does. But- yes, I could use some assistance.\"" }, { "author": "Bibi", "message": "The Beastwalker couldn't help but notice the small grunt, and more concerningly, the cracks of the Elf's back. Had she just been carrying too many books? Or was there something else going on? Well, it wasn't her place to ask, was it? She just had to do her job.\n\nAewerin, huh. It was a name Bibi had heard tossed around occasionally, though rarely in a bad way. Well, okay, she had heard the Elf discussed badly, they just didn't seem like rumors the Beastwalker should attach much value to. The fact that her wit was sharp was something that infuriated others, but it was something Bibi found more interesting than anything. At least she hadn't been talked about as a troublemaker, which was something that reassured her, albeit only a little.\n\nEither way, she tried to put those rumors out of her mind, and instead focus on the person standing right here, in front of her - the person that seemed to be intently focusing on her as well. Why was Aewerin staring so? Bibi could practically sense the tension in the air increasing with each agonizing second that passed, but she couldn't tear her own gaze away. That way those blue eyes looked into hers, it was making her feel a strange sort of nervousness, a tightness in her chest that she didn't understand but very much disliked. Why was Aewerin looking at her that way? Was there something on her face? Was she doing something weird without realizing? Oh gods...\n\nLuckily, the moment that seemed to last an eternity was over soon enough as the other shook her head, and Bibi quickly lowered her own to look at the strange cat... Creature... What was that?\n_ _\n\nThough she'd calmed down from her initial fright, the feathers on her head jumped straight back up when the whatever it was spoke up. Was it sapient? Had she made a mistake kicking it out? She'd assumed it was just a strange sort of familiar, but now... She wasn't so sure. However, the creature was already gone before she had a chance to speak up about the matter, leaving only the two women.\n\nBibi was quick to once more flatten her feathers with both hands once the other spoke up and pulled her back to reality. Right. Help. Do the thing she was meant to do. \"Certainly,\" The woman spoke with a nod, folding her hands behind her back. \"Dol Boldhar, was it? I do believe that there are some books on the matter. Would you like me to fetch them for you?\" Polite, calm, a voice bordering on monotone, but helpful, that was what most people were used to from her." }, { "author": "Aewerin", "message": "Bibi might well notice, for a lack of it elsewhere, that Aewerin seemed to hold a rigidity of posture that matched her own, but for entirely different reasons. Every time Bibi's seen the woman bend her back, there was a sizable pop or crack. But, finding some warmth finally from the movement, Aewerin seemed to relax ever so slightly. On closer inspection, the Elfess had distinctly developed deltoids, and a strong back that seemed to press against the flanks of the tunic she wore now.\n\nMuch like Bibi might create binders and frames to hold together a damaged tome, this Elf seemed to have built for herself a binder of flesh to keep her back under some measure of control.\n\nAewerin's stare was thankfully averted, though at times Bibi would notice that the Elf peered, long and curiously, into her golden eyes, as if she was looking for something in them, or just taking in all of their little details. But, when Murmur was departed, and their conversation continued, Aewerin responded to finally break that agonizing eon of waiting.\n\n\"I can ge—\" She cuts herself off, considering. Her tone wasn't sharp, but an independence that was ignoble and defying of her better interests was slowly beaten back by that growing curiosity for the owl. \"—Yes, if you wouldn't mind. I can help return these and carry those?\" Aewerin speaks, softer. Curiously, the snark from earlier seems to have been muted. Perhaps Aewerin was attentive to Bibi's mood, perhaps it was coincidence- but it was a palpable shift." }, { "author": "Bibi", "message": "Frankly, Bibi made a point not to stare too closely at people, not wanting to judge them on their appearance by accident. She'd rather judge someone on the content of their character - and still, even she couldn't help but notice how, well, buff Aewerin was. Perhaps she only took notice of it because of how unusual it was for a mage. Most tended to be frail, studious types, but Aewerin looked like she could benchpress at least ten of those mages at once. Had she more experience with injuries, Bibi might've figured out why, but right now, she just assumed the cracking noises of the other's back were due to her sitting down like a shrimp, poured over tomes, like so many people in this library.\n\nBibi once more let her gaze dart around the library, the sky-high bookshelves that towered all around her. She was quiet for a moment, thinking on where to find anything related to Dol Boldhar. History... Or architecture? Maybe she'd just have to check both.\n\nIt was actually surprising that Aewerin offered to help, but Bibi gave a light shake of her head. \"Returns go over there,\" She said as she gestured at a small chart standing next to the main desk, which had a bunch of other random books on it as well. \"I have to check each book for damage before putting it back.\" It wasn't that she didn't trust the other woman, it was more that it was just protocol, and she had to check every book before putting it back.\n\n\"You can help carry the new ones, if you would like, though. That would be very helpful, thank you.\" It wasn't often that people offered to help like that, and Bibi did appreciate it a lot. \"Shall we, then?\" She gestured in the direction of the bookshelves she'd like to take a look into with a hand, then folded both hands in front of her, starting to walk in that direction, expecting the Elf to follow her. Perhaps most would have noticed the shift in Aewerin's voice, but it completely flew over Bibi's head - which wasn't too unusual for her, actually." }, { "author": "Aewerin", "message": "Sometimes posture wasn't such a shrimple thing. Bibi's assumptions weren't entirely wrong - at times Aewerin's anxieties to find solutions bent her back over her tomes, as if looming and lording over them, demanding of their secrets. In those rare lapses of lucidity where she could think on what she was doing, she'd swiftly correct herself and try to minimize the agony she'd have damned herself to for the next hour.\n\nNow was one of those hours, as she so evidently seemed to be slowly loosening up whatever damage she had done. But, the Elf's teal eyes seemed to be traced with her-... Stores, of stamina. Magical potential sat around their edges along a mountainous little border of gold, though more earthen in tone than Bibi's own eyes.\n\nAt Bibi's indication, Aewerin inclined her head brief, before rolling her neck out, laying her stack of tomes in the returns where they were meant to go. At the mention of damaged books, Aewerin notably perched a brow at the owl, but it fell away. For Bibi, likely something easily misread, but it was nothing more than Aewerin's fleeting thoughts.\n\nDo you think I'm an amateur?\n\nOne brushing finger under her nostrils later, as if blowing away the steam from her imagined indignation, Aewerin returned to a more pleasant demeanor, still earnest in her intent to help Bibi carry the tomes to where she was studying. Following along in near lock-step with the owl, Aewerin seemed casually content to match the pace and not rush anywhere. Whether it was for her back, or another reason like her little peeks to the side towards the Beastwalker, one would have to guess.\n\nWithout a stack of tomes in the way, the number of sown scratches and scars in Aewerin's robes was also noticable. They were affixed with new threads, almost appearing as veins of gold ore revealed only in the fracture of tested and torn stones. Something beautiful out of something injured - in parallel to her own back, it seems." }, { "author": "Bibi", "message": "The raised brow didn't go unnoticed by the Beastwalker, but she didn't quite know what to think of it, what it was supposed to mean. Was she even supposed to attribute any meaning to it at all? Well, if there was a genuine issue, surely Aewerin would speak up about, right? She decided to put the thought out of her mind and focus on the issue at hand instead.\n\nHer sharp gaze darted around the library as she walked between the shelves, pausing occasionally to pull out a book, flip through it, and then return it after finding out it didn't carry the information she was looking for. Where was it? Information on the lost Dwarven kingdom shouldn't be so hard to come by... Unless she was looking in the wrong section. Wait, now that she was thinking on it, maybe that was the case. Even if the history of the place was real, there was a very real chance that the books on it had been moved to the 'myths and legends' section, which was...\n\nBibi tilted her head back and exhaled a soft sigh. All the way up there. Of course. \"Please wait here for a moment,\" She told Aewerin, and suddenly, within the blink of an eye, where she stood was the Cutest Little owlet, one that undeniably shared the feathers on Bibi's head, and her golden eyes, a pop of color in its otherwise black and white appearance.\n\nThe creature spread its wings, and then started flying upwards, leaving behind one small, soft white feather that fluttered downwards through the air. Arriving at the destination, way close to the ceiling, the owl was quick to spot a book that was all about the city in question, and pulled it from the shelf with its talons. A regular owl might damage the thing, but Bibi had always made sure her talons were carefully trimmed so that there was no risk of that occurring.\n_ _\n\nThe little owl flew down with more effort than it took to go up, having to flap twice as hard to keep her descent slow and not crash to the ground. Still, she landed gently, placed the book on the ground, and hopped off it, turning back into her regular self in another blink of an eye. With that, she picked up the book once more, gently dusted it off, and held it out to the Elf. A complete history of Dol Boldhar, the title read, and judging from its thickness, it was hopefully going to help a decent amount - assuming the information found inside was truthful, of course." }, { "author": "Aewerin", "message": "As she followed along with Bibi, the Elf gave a periodic little squint, suspicious and searching, up and down the shelves, whose silence belied all the answers they kept well bound, within. They weren't wandering within the history sections, nor the geographic. No, they were approaching the mythological and magical, and so Aewerin coiled her lips as a shy serpent peeling back from a sudden, sour taste. Was she wrong in thinking, in searching? How much time had she just spent on nothing?\n\nAewerin was aware in some ways when she was reading - what had she really been looking at? The true history was fragmented, and she was staring into faultlines trying to make sense of darkness in depths she lacked the tools to dive into and survive.\n\nBut- all of that rumination retreated when Aewerin realized she was suddenly besides an owlet - orbs of gold reflected candlelight back at Aewerin, who seemed for a time fixated on the celestial look of it, before she watched Bibi fly away. What was going on, the mage wondered to herself? Was this-...? No. Here? She shook her head again-... Shake-shake-shake, before lightly clapping both of her cheeks with her palms, dually to wake herself up.\n\nWhen Aewerin was handed the book by the more familiar form of the feathered Beastwalker, she took a good look at the cover. The way that the Elf gently used the barest bit of her fingertips, and treated each page and corner delicately as to not contribute to the wear, would well inform Bibi that she had kinship in an appreciation of literature.\n\nAewerin finally sighs to herself, conceding for a moment that she had failed to find this by assuming where the sources would be. A lesson tasted bitter on her tongue, but at least she could continue to work. She smiles up to Bibi, considering.\n\n\"Anything you can tell me about this one, in particular? Otherwise-... Don't suppose you have any duties keeping you from helping me notate? Nice flying, by the way - I'm sure the mice wouldn't dare.\"" }, { "author": "Bibi", "message": "The Beastwalker was quick to pick up the few feathers she'd left behind, stuffing them into her pockets, something that might make one wonder - how many did she have in there? Judging from how swiftly she snatched them up, it was unlikely that this was the first time she'd done this.\n\nShe watched as Aewerin opened the book - for a moment, Bibi had been afraid of how the Elf might treat it, considering her physique not at all being that of a mage, but her worries were eased soon enough when she saw how gentle Aewerin was with the tome. It really was a relief, and made her opinion of the other increase significantly, Bibi had always been able to appreciate a fellow lover of books.\n\nMaking sure that her posture was straight, she once more folded her hands together in front of her, and continued to observe the Elf. What she didn't notice was that there was a small white feather left behind on her shoulder, a stark contrast against the black of her vest. Was the book the one Aewerin had been looking for? It did seem to be that way.\n\n\"I have not read it, I'm afraid,\" Bibi replied with a light shake of the head. Though... That offer was tempting. Her eyes darted around as she paused, considering for a moment what she still had left to do. As was normal, she had finished her duties on time, and right now, she was supposed to keep an eye on the people in the library and make sure that they didn't cause any troubles.\n_ _\n\n\"I will have to make a round once in a while to ensure that no one is breaking any rules, but for the rest, I am free to assist you.\" Bibi would have liked to leave it at that, however, what Aewerin said next was not something that she could just let slide. \"And the mice are kept out through magical means. It would be highly ineffective for me to be the one chasing after each and every one of them, and frankly, a waste of my time.\" Was she insulted? With her expression remaining neutral and her body language its regular amount of stiff, it was impossible to tell." }, { "author": "Aewerin", "message": "As she watched the featherfall and their so-swift return to the pockets where they made their bed, Aewerin couldn't help but wonder as to the texture of them. Though, a slight snicker came at the display, out of genuine bemusement, as she kept the book delicately in her hands- something treasured, by Bibi's measure. A commendable comparison between them, and something that could perhaps in time be a way to communicate.\n\nOtherwise, Aewerin kept an eye on the Beastwalker as she spoke, though a surely surprising laugh escaped from her at the indignation over the mice and impertinent question she had asked. Her head leaned back, a bright smile of teeth came- and the Elf seemed for a small time to be free of torment from her spine.\n\n\"I am joking. You're far too busy - but, they don't know that.\" She coos softly, with a tilt of her head, eyes trailing around as she implied the scene of the little rodents running along the corners in fear of Bibi.\n\n\"But thank you- truly. I can leave you to your work, if you'd like.\" She says, one last smile seeming to always soften the sharpness she brought. Like a sheathed sword." }, { "author": "Bibi", "message": "There was a slight stiffening of the owlish woman's shoulders as she heard the other's snicker, and then her laugh, and she paused momentarily to think. People had laughed at her enough times for her to be very self-conscious about when that was occurring, but was that what was happening here or was it a sound of amusement for another reason? Was Aewerin making fun of her? Had she somehow said the wrong thing?\n\nHer words did reassure Bibi a little, though not by much - she still felt like it could very well be the case that Aewerin was laughing at her. Best try to ignore the topic and simply move on from it, she didn't want to risk learning something she didn't want to know.\n\n\"If you allow me a minute to make sure no one is breaking any rules, I can help you out.\" Why she was so eager to aid the Elf, Bibi wasn't sure of. Perhaps it was simply because she was different, unusual, because the Beastwalker hadn't ever seen anyone quite like her, and she was, well, curious. Or perhaps it was something else instead - she wasn't sure. Either way, she did want to help out in whatever small way she could.\n\n\"Please, have a seat-\" She gestured back in the direction of the tables with a hand \"-while I take care of that, and we can work together... If you would like to, of course.\" There was a chance that Aewerin had only been joking with her initial offer, something that Bibi found happening more often than she'd like to admit. She'd always found it difficult to tell when people were serious or joking, and it had led her to many embarrassing misunderstandings in the past. Hopefully this wasn't one." }, { "author": "Aewerin", "message": "There was something that seemed to click inside Aewerin's mind, sending many a stuttering and shuffling gear into smooth motion, as she watched Bibi's reaction- or lack of it. After a moment of silence, before addressing other tasks and sitting, Aewerin spoke.\n\n\"I'm laughing because I enjoyed the idea, and silly as it is, I'm confident you'd do it with as much care as you treat the tomes.\" She hums her little tune, then listens otherwise in place.\n\nOnce Bibi directed Aewerin to sit, she went to do so, nodding at the mention of working together with a little bounce in her heels and a bob of her bangs that brushed across her brow. Something brewed withing, Aewerin thought, though so very unsure of what.\n\n\"I would like to work together and have your help, once you're set with your other duties. I'll be awake.\" She says, as if challenging the very black bags under her own eyes, rather than telling it to Bibi." }, { "author": "Bibi", "message": "A rare look of surprise came upon the Beastwalker's face, a slight widening of the eyes - but she wasn't unpleasantly surprised, no, it was quite the opposite, actually. It was exceedingly rare for people to notice when she was struggling with figuring out what they meant, and to then explain it? That was unheard of.\n\n\"I see,\" She answered, noticeably relaxing, especially when it came to the matter of her shoulders. \"Thank you... For the explanation.\" Though laced with awkwardness, there was a sincere gratitude in her voice.\n\nWith the Elf's confirmation, Bibi turned around to quickly start patrolling around, her footsteps a bit faster than usual - was she looking forward to this so much, then? It did seem like it would be pretty fun, and Aewerin wasn't exactly unpleasant to be around, but... Was that all that was behind it? Or was it that part of her mind was associating the other with that embarrassing fantasy of hers where the perfect woman would just come through the doors and scoop her up? She did seem strong enough to do so...\n\nNo, no, no, stop, stop, stop! Now it was Bibi's turn to clap her cheeks with both hands, trying to shake the thought out of her mind. Right. Patrolling. That was what she was supposed to do. She cleared her throat and straightened her back, then continued her walk around, at a bit of a slower pace to give her mind and face enough time to cool down again. Don't think about that. Highly inappropriate. Just be normal, Bibi. Be normal." }, { "author": "Aewerin", "message": "The Elf turned towards the offered seat and went, bouncing through each bound, with a small smile over her shoulder and a wave to Bibi for when they speak later. Sitting then, Aewerin tried - this time, at least - to attend to her posture. Shrimply sitting up helped alleviate most of it, but she used a small desk lectern to see the tome before her straight on, without having to bend over it like some craven cultist.\n\nThank you for the explanation. Aewerin thought to herself, ruminating on it, a run through her mind that wound her into plan and plot. Eventually, she decided that she'd make sure there were as few misunderstandings with this one as possible. Maybe- she could teach her some thing as well? Aewerin held that odd hope a moment, before letting it pass for now. She'll see in due time.\n\nAewerin had to correct herself to not crook her elbows on the table, or any one of the other dozen of spine damaging ways she had to put herself in pain. With a breath, she kept her mind focused on what was in front of her, using little mantras and harsh bites of her own lip to keep herself awake, against her own eminent exhaustion. And so, she awaited a curious new friend." }, { "author": "Bibi", "message": "It took about ten minutes for Bibi to return, looking as prim and proper as she always did, not a hair nor feather out of place, her previous thoughts completely hidden from view, and pushed away in her own mind, something she had a lot of experience with doing.\n\nApproaching Aewerin, she eyed the Elf curiously, and with some small amount of worry. \"Are you alright? You look like you're about to fall asleep,\" She stated, a gentle undertone in her voice. Had that been the case when they talked earlier too? Had the Elf looked that tired then as well? How had Bibi not noticed that? Was she just too stuck in her own head? \"If you need to sleep, we should wait with this until another time. Do not neglect your health,\" She added, her voice taking on a sterner tone.\n\nIt was far from the first time that Bibi had seen it, people overworked themselves a lot in this place. Trying to force knowledge into their brains despite the late hour and the fact that all their minds needed was sleep... It was almost more common than books themselves. It was also far from the first time that she'd try to make one of those people get some sleep, and knowing the stubbornness of most... Well, she doubted she'd be successful, but she had to try." }, { "author": "Aewerin", "message": "So Aewerin sat, there and then glancing over to the Beastwalker as she approached the little crook where the Elf nested. She did look exhausted, but curiously, she seemed to dip her hands into a small pouch.\n\nFrom it rose two leaves, with a curious and alkaline scent that aromatizes the corner-... Awfully. It wasn't pleasant by any means, but passed quickly when Aewerin shot them into her mouth and chewed on them. Almost immediately, she seemed to perk up, pupils dilating just enough to be noticeable, as she smiles at Bibi.\n\n\"Oh! Much better - Better, better. Don't worry. I can sleep later.\" She even sounded more awake. It seemed the mage came with-... Horticultural habits, of a sort. The Elf only seemed to brush the back of her neck, fingers sifting through downy and short hair as she chuckles away the sterner tone.\n\nWas it embarrassment? It was hard to tell- harder still for the Elf's apparent attempt to hide it.\n\n\"So far - it seems that this has a few things I needed. Especially triangulations of suspected entrances to the depths near old keeps. I was aiming to work on a catalogue—\"" }, { "author": "Bibi", "message": "Bibi was about to question what the leaves even were, but didn't have the chance to before Aewerin had already consumed them. Were those... Illegal substances? In her library? No, surely the Elf wouldn't be that dumb... Would she?\n\nShould she ask? There was no way that she could justify not doing so, right? If Aewerin had brought something illegal in here, she'd have to kick her out, no exceptions. \"What was that?\" She questioned, face stern, but sending a silent prayer up to Shara that it was just something normal that she could let slide - she really didn't want this conversation to end so soon.\n\nDespite that, Bibi sat down on the chair in front of Aewerin's anyway, assuming that her doubts would be cleared soon and that they could focus on the matter at hand. She took a glance at the materials presented in front of her, and listened to the other's words quietly, a soft hum escaping her.\n\n\"That one is unlikely,\" She said as she pointed at one of the locations. \"There was an expedition there recently, and they found nothing of note.\" A short pause. \"Well, they did find a good amount of knowledge, but nothing related to Dol Boldhar.\" The rest, though... Those seemed somewhat likely at least." }, { "author": "Aewerin", "message": "Two chews and a muffled cough later, and whatever the matter was, was soon missing and well-gone. Aewerin looked up with that brighter, more alert look at Bibi, offering out a smile.\n\n\"Oh! Some herbs - bit bitter, but they keep my tongue and teeth clean. Some relief for a broken back, as well.\" She hums along. None of that was untrue. Of many flaws, what she left out was a clarification most-... Concerning. Otherwise Aewerin seemed to turn to the tome, continuing on as if she did nothing in the least wrong.\n\n\"Nothing at all? Were we sure they missed nothing?\" She furrows her brow, a bit more brazen and bold in voice and posture, as if her back was suddenly unbound from its previous shackles.\n\n\"Well- we'd have to cross reference with other accounts of these three -...\" She says, pointing at one, then another, and then a last location around the center of the continent, each in a separate country.\n\n\"What're the most recent archaeological accounts? Is this truly it?\" She furrows her brow, a finger tap-tap-tapping on the table, a tick that triggers with each tumultuous bout of temper at the lack of answers." }, { "author": "Bibi", "message": "The Beastwalker was about to respond, to question the matter, but then she hesitated. Was that really something she wanted to do? Thinking about it, it didn't seem to be harming anyone, and if it really was for cleaning her teeth and the pain...\n\n\"...I suggest that you refrain from doing such things in my direct line of sight,\" She stated anyway, her voice still somewhat stern. Was Aewerin that dumb? Or was she just tired? Even if it was legit, there was still a big chance of the Elf being kicked out, and she'd better be glad that Bibi was willing to give her the benefit of the doubt.\n\nShe examined the page once more, then gave a nod. \"I read the reports quite recently, I remember them well. If you would like, I can get them for you.\" She didn't mind the fact that Aewerin didn't just trust her on her word - it was the mark of a good researcher.\n\n\"There might be a few more, but those could take me a few days to compile. It's not a particularly popular topic, and few new information is coming out lately.\" Bibi gave the book a gentle tap. \"This is the most comprehensive work on the topic that I know of.\"" }, { "author": "Aewerin", "message": "She glances up at Bibi, searching through her golden eyes before giving a nod, a shut-eye'd smile of acquiescence and attempted appeasement, and a scratch along the fluffy hair on the back of her head, as if distributing the brief feeling of shame.\n\n\"Yes- yes. Kept well out of sight, guardian.\" Aewerin jests, using an antiquited term for some of the librarians, referencing their secondary duties: the defense of the archives and libraries, in the case that threats were present to accumulated knowledge. Though, as Bibi might be able to tell, the tone was the same as when Aewerin spoke aloud that she was joking - unambiguously so, as if the Elf was trying to make the tone changes far more easy to follow.\n\nPerhaps a kindness of sorts, or perhaps just something done coincidentally - either way, the mage didn't clarify before turning her mind to more studious thoughts and her tome to the next page with it. Tapping the table with a secret little pacer for her racing thoughts, Aewerin considered Bibi's words carefully before responding.\n\n\"Yes - the report might be telling of what to Not Look for, at the least. Otherwise-.... If I come back every day, for some time, I could help you compile those other sources? I do need them, but don't want you to leave you alone to it.\" She leans back, seeming far more loose after her-... Incredulous ingestion. Stretching her arms up, she uses that moment to seem to catch a thought from the air and bring it back with a small grunt.\n\n\"There's word brewing of several-... Mmh.\" She clicks her tongue quietly, thinking on the mot precise word as her ears search around the top of her head, rolling and turning over, and over.\n\n\"-...Penurious tasks that will be available for the Chroniclers. Sending them out to find answers themselves, searching for what's lost without much in the way of resources or backing. I imagine they're trying to scrape the barrel and save every coin on what they think may be lost causes.\" She chuckles, grimly." }, { "author": "thelordofmoth", "message": "```fix\nEnded for now\n```" } ]	329	8,930
554.4	1776-07-04	GuildPublicThread	[ { "author": "Atticus Xelnore", "message": "What price would you pay for eternal life?\n\nThe first time that Atticus heard this question it was during his time he spent with the Hands. The young man was wealthy and outclassed mages with decades of study by the time he was in his late teens. Even if the academic field wasn't a necessity for his talents he was always voracious when it came to the consumption of knowledge. Yet in all his studies, all his research and experimentation, the young Xelnore stuttered out an answer to his instructor that he believe sounded correct.\n\n\"N-None... Living forever would be a curse if nothing else\"\n\nThe young prodigy sheepishly answered. The look of expectation in his instructors eyes quickly shifting to disappointment in such a bland answer from a talented young man. Despite the sheer embarrassment he felt when he exited the lecture hall, nearly tripping and breaking his neck as he raced down the staircase, he never thought of it for over a century. After all, what more thought was there to be had? He's heard people he once believed to be much smarter than him give their answers. 'You'd outlive everyone and everything you cared about' and 'Life would become so boring' and everything you'd expect from the comfortable and the content. Atticus was a High Elf granted an absurdly long life, what need would he possibly need for more time?\n\nIt wasn't until a century later, when Xelnore lay in the Blackwater Swamp, his fine robes now slick with grime as he hid from the mages who he revered so hunt down their former enforcer. Close minded fools. Yes, Atticus had been grossly abusing his position to gain access to the entirety of the orders forbidden magics and artifacts. In all the time he spent in study there was not a single item lost and not a single death because of it (that they knew of). But it was in that moment, having every attachment in his life being taken away due to his insatiable hubris that he thought of that question again.\n\nWhat price would you pay for eternal life?\n\n\"Everything\"\n\nHe asked that question not more than an hour ago to the traveling artificer, Jaroth Stormshroud. An inventor of some renown who had recently been welcomed to Findara by the Mage's Hand to host a seminar on his discoveries. Atticus was quite familiar with his work, having read it verbatim during his travels. But he found most of it dreadfully dull. Mana stabilization innovations, magi-tech, things he had seen long ago by much more interesting people. But what did capture his attention was his latest creation known as the Eternus Vault. A revolutionary new storage device that sustains its contents with magic to prevent rot and decay. Still heavily in the prototype state it was presented as a new container for perishables like meat or fruit. But the moment Atticus read the word Eternus his eyes glistened with the all consuming fires of gluttony that have fueled him for the last 400 years.\n\nIt's what inspired him to track down the artificer on the road with his traveling companions. He didn't take kindly to Atticus's presence or question, simply screaming in response and riding off on his steed. Quite the unprofessional response from an academic like him. Just because Atticus had melted the armor into the skin of his hired protection isn't an excuse to act like that. In response, Atticus had cast the spell of flight and had begun to soar around the outskirts of Findara, searching for the runaway inventor to learn what he knows. Unfortunately, he proved to be much more elusive than he expected, the man seeming to have vanished deep into the woodlands just to get away from the sorcerer who had taken to the air. \n\nIt had been half an hour now as Atticus finally descended, exhaustion taking hold as he slumped against a tree, wiping the sweat from his brow. Seems he'd have to conduct his search on the ground rather than the air.\n\nHow tedious." }, { "author": "Arel Presthyra", "message": "*\"Some mage you will turn out to be, one so pathetic that they're incapable of even accessing Ursus' gifts. Give it up.\"\n\nNo matter how proficient in the art of mana manipulation they've grown in their studies, a remarkable achievement for one within their teens, these bitter words persisted in Arel's mind and tainted any self-confidence they might have possessed otherwise. Existing beneath the malevolent thumb of House Presthyra, a stain on the familial repute, they were shrouded, emotionally deprived, and forced to nurture themselves. For years, they yearned for an opportunity to self-emancipate, prove their merit, and carve a path to call their own. Yet, after abandoning their home kingdom and, with it, their previous life, a newfound sense of autonomy did not fill their heart. Instead, an oppressive dread rested atop their fragile shoulders. Dread brought about by the near-debilitating uncertainty regarding their capacities. Was their mother and father correct about them? Should they complete their journey to Ardunon and attempt to live amongst the ranks of the Order of the Mage Hands? \n\nFrom deeper within the woodlands that snugly embraced the well-tread path Atticus rested near, a hooded figure emerged, diminutive in stature and without so much as the soft rustling of grass to indicate their approach. They appeared unaware of the High Elf's presence as they started towards the path before coming to a halt and nonchalantly gesturing with their hands in front of their chest. A series of cerulean blue particles, identical in hue to the clear Findaran sky, materialised seemingly from nowhere, quickly coalescing into their majestic equine mount, demonstrating to Atticus a proficiency with the magical arts. But before the Beastwalker could mount up, the conjured steed jerked its head to peer over Arel's blonde head to gaze upon the aged Elf's slender form, dawning the most lavish clothing.\n\n\"What do you...\"* The young Shifter muttered to themselves before similarly jerking their head to meet his golden eyes.\n\nLovely.\n\nThey simply could not get a break from people, could they?" }, { "author": "Atticus Xelnore", "message": "The sorcerer doffed his hat and wiped the sweat from his brow. Had he been 50 years younger a search like this would have been trivial. He'd soar through the trees, dashing around each one like a leaf dancing through the air. He still could, for a forest less dense with foliage. But he didn't have such a luxury and he felt the chains of old age weighing his body down. An adversary that he couldn't simply bury beneath a landslide or eviscerate in an inferno. Whether rich or poor, young or old, king and serf, everyone is destined to die. Even the great Atticus Xelnore was destined to die. Atticus knew this well, that wasn't what made him quest for immortality so zealously.\n\nThe child of sorcerous blood baring the gifts of a divine at the tips of his fingers. The man who had been unmatched in his entire 400 years of life. The man who spent centuries trying to find a way to conquer death as he did every other problem he faced in his life. If he were to die it would be doing something spontaneous. Battling a equally powerful mage or delving into the secrets the gods hid from mortals, toppling a kingdom just for fun, it didn't matter what he'd do, who it involved or if he would even succeed he Deserved To go out in a blaze of glory. There is little that frightens him more than just being old and frail, lying in bed waiting to die.\n\nThat man was destined not just to die, but to wither. To wither like rotten fruit on a summers day. To be conquered by a force outside of his control. He would never let age degrade a man like him, he still had so much left to do. And what great things he could do if he had all the time in the world.\n\nHis musings on the nature of life and death were soon interrupted with a flash blue erupting from the corner of his eye. Bright and vibrant as though the very sky descended to greet the ground it eternally faced. The all too familiar burst of mana he knew all too well. Turning his head he was greeted with the sight of a young humanoid next to an equine steed which he was just able to catch materializing out of the burst of blue.\n\n\"A magus?\"\n\nHe muttered under his breath in surprise. Not just that but one who was capable of summoning mighty steeds. Xelnore was no caviler but he figured riding a horse couldn't be too difficult. And what he needed most was speed. He figured his quarry couldn't have gotten too far, he knew the direction and just needed to catch up. If he had a steed of his own he'd be in quite a good state.\n\nHe tilted his head to the side, the humanoid not yet noticing as he placed his hat back on his head.\n\nI could always warn them that I'd melt the marrow in their bones until it bubbles if they don't provide me a steed. They don't seem too experienced so... No, for once threats won't get me very far this time unfortunately. Guess I'll just have to rely on that good nature and kindness I've heard so much about\n\nHe pondered before deciding to make his approach. Perhaps he could convince them? A fellow magus helping their fellow magus? At the very least if they could only create one he could ride with them, just whatever gave him the speed he so desperately needed.\n\n\"Excuse me, young magi?\"\n\nHe called out, the horse huffing in response to his approach. His black overcoat billowing behind him. He held his hands up, a gesture of showing he was no armed bandit or highwayman. \n\n\"Don't worry I bare no weapons, I was actually wondering if you could aid me in a task, if you have the time\"" }, { "author": "Arel Presthyra", "message": "As the aged mage strode them, Arel meticulously examined him from scalp to sole, taking in as many notable features as possible, along with potential signs of malicious intent on his part—a towering elf with nearly a foot on themselves, coupled with a slender, but healthy build. He carried himself with a swagger not too dissimilar from that of their father, complimented by his choice in fashion, which they found gaudy, to put it kindly. The similarities to their father inspired mild annoyance, but Atticus could not have known this, as the Beastwalker's opal gaze fixed itself on the tinted spectacles that obscured the Elf's. However, their stare was so unwavering that it almost appeared as if they stared through him well into the tree line. His placating gesture carried little weight as they were conscious of the numerous ways to harm one without direct contact. While not particularly enthusiastic about engaging in conversation at this moment, Arel decided to humour Atticus, but not before inclining their head forward, signalling that he would not encroach upon their personal space further than he already had.\n\n\"You don't need a weapon in order to hurt me. What do you need?\" Contrary to their less-than-threatening demeanour and gentle, almost soothing tone, Arel's words were sharp and cut to the heart of the matter without the need for pleasantries that would distract from the purpose of their exchange. Almost in harmonious unison, the Shifter and their steed tilted their heads inquisitively, awaiting the response to their inquiry. What could this Elf possibly want with the total stranger they were?" }, { "author": "Atticus Xelnore", "message": "The old mage was delighted at the prospect that he was able to keep the young magus's attention. If anything he'd at best expect them to ignore him and keep riding or at worst send a bolt of fire flying his way in fears of him being a bandit magi of some sort. He did catch their mannerisms though. Spending decades thriving among high Findarian society honed his abilities in the social field of battle. The steadiness of their voice, the sharpness of their words, a clear sign that there wasn't an ounce of hesitation or worry. Not to suggest that there was any hospitality beyond the bare minimum either. It was clear that this young magus wasn't anywhere near as naive as he first expected. They didn't know if he was a threat and reacting thusly.\n\nStill, it wasn't like he had any other options of easier people to manipulate into helping him. Time was of the essence and the moment that he learned the secrets of immortality he would never have to worry about time ever again.\n\n\"Well I've been separated from a good friend of mine you see. A scholarly chap, studied in the works of increased longevity. His horse must have gotten spooked by something, perhaps a snake or a bird that chirped a bit too loudly, rushed right on into the forest just yonder\"\n\nHe gestured, stepping onto the road directly in the path of the now stopped Elf and steed.\n\n\"I've been struggling greatly to catch up with them on foot, even with my magic, but I saw you conjure a remarkable equine creature just now and I was wondering if you would be so kind as to do the same for me. Or at the very least use yours to aid me in my search so I may be reunited with the poor lad. He's never been much of a rider you see.\"" } ]	441	2,772
269.714286	1776-07-04	GuildPublicThread	[ { "author": "vrba_2640_vrba", "message": "Just some pictures for ideas of how the place looks\n\nWas the day before Christmas a fairy and scathis would be busy decorating some cabins. Hanging up Christmas garland, decorating the trees with ornaments and candles, a few colored potions that glowed to make it sparkle. There would be some tabled covered in Christmas treats, candies, pies, fresh breads, different meats, as well as many other things.\n\nThe scathis would be outside building a big bonfire for the ones wishing to be outside as the fairy would be making the insides of the cabins feeling warm and welcoming to all who came. There was plenty to do, lots of treats and food, some festive drinks, and even a few sparkling colors from potions to make it feel all the more festive for everyone.\n\nThe two had been working hard to make a place welcome for everyone to come and enjoy the cheer of the holiday and hoped that many would. Otherwise there would be plenty to send home with everyone that came. And let's not forget about the present exchange that would happen later on. No one would know what present they would be getting and all of them were just ones that could be a laugh or something nice. Whatever someone got was all just supposed to be part of the cheer and laughs for the holidays" }, { "author": "Captain Domiel Marques \| The Tempest", "message": "The sound of laughter and excited chatter carried across the frozen lake. Cresting a snow covered hill the crew of the Sovereign Soul At last laid eyes on the festive scene bordering the bank. A collective cheer rang out, puffs of warm breath billowing into the chilled air. They descended to the snow dusted ice, eagerly crossing the sky's patchy reflection.\n\nThe group flanked their captain, an elven woman of rugged beauty. Domiel Marques wore the indicators of her occupation, tanned skin littered with scars, salted hair, ink that told the tales of numerous deaths etched into her flesh. Beneath it all were the stunning features expected of her people, shared with the woman at her side. Rivet matched her twin's confident strides, both flaunting captivating smiles and glittering gold adornments. Domiel carried gifts, offerings for the celebrations. Her sister had concluded that holiday spirits were a sufficient contribution, arriving with boisterous laughter and rum in hand. \n\nThey were a riotous but amiable lot, reined in by Captain Marques. Their gazes flitted from one temptation to the next, food, drinks, delightfully decorated cabins and trees. A splendid gathering. They did not surge forth as they so desperately wished to, however. Instead the group turned their eyes to Domiel.\n\nShe skipped the formalities, they did not matter today, and introduced herself to their hosts only as, \"Domiel. How can we help?\" The first guests to show they would ensure all was prepared for those that followed, easing the burden of their hosts if permitted. \n\nThe crew of the Sovereign Soul has arrived." }, { "author": "Aewerin", "message": "Coming on far in a calm march from the forested fields aside were a pair of figures walking together. At times, one or the other would toss some snow at the other, or bicker audibly - there was still always a tone of affection within it though.\n\nTwo High Elves. Aewerin and her brother Aewen. Instead of the robes and armor they'd normally wear, the pair had on quite-... Enthusiastically gaudy sweaters. Stitched with all the holiday spirit of a drunken tailor, delivered by a drunken sailor, they'd at any other time of year be considered a failure of finery. Blocky animals fitted with symbols and patterns of the season covered them, far too many obnoxious colors stretching across the woolen looking fabric. And now, soaked in melting snow, the pair looked like an avalanche of trouble coming to this party.\n\nAewerin looked an arm around Aewen's shoulders, the slightly taller brother supporting his sister, as they close in on the cabin, likely in sight for the crew that had arrived just a few minutes earlier. What was worse- they both clearly had a few drinks on the way, Aewerin's hiccups punctuating the gentle winds.\n\nBut, they had a few minutes before stepping inside." }, { "author": "Siora Qira", "message": "*Siora would hear the sounds of others joining in finally. Coming out of the cabins as she had on her own festive looking clothes, she wore a blue colored wool dress that covered her wings to keep them warm and had little fluffy edging to the dress. She would wave at all of the ones who had arrived as she was excited to see the people coming and already being filled of joy and laughter. \"Welcome to our Christmas party, we are so happy to see you here. You can help set out the logs for the bonfire if you want to or can help us put up the decorations. There is still a lot to do to be ready for everyone that is still to come. But the main thing is to have fun and enjoy the holiday cheer!\"\n\nDulcinea would off working on the bonfire, adding in different things to make the fire crackle with a rainbow of colors to make it more beautiful and festive for all of it. They would look up at hearing the laugher, checking their hood once more to keep their face covered but it would be a festive little cloak to join in on the fun of the season, the festive energy would be nice to have around as it made her feel more friendly and comfortable at least being around others for the time even if she probably wouldn't talk much.\n\nIt really was a lovely little area for a Christmas party, full of just festive things like food, lights, a tree, fire, and so many nice colors. Hopefully all the laughs and gift exchanges later would be a lot of fun for them. It was nice to see so far all the ones that had came so far." }, { "author": "Astalios, Iron King", "message": "Powders, he thought - powders and tinctures, those were the key. A hooded figure was tossing salts of kalium, as well as a salt he could feel for his own - copper - into the fire. As the flames became streaked with different colors, perhaps with some dyes they were throwing in added to the salts, the king closed his eyes, and let the second sight wash over him in its purest form.\n\nAn iron poker by the fire. Faint traces of some powder in a pouch. Jewelry wrought in gold and silver - earrings, glittering ornaments that he could feel and see lining the ears, necks, wrists, and bodies of those around the cabin. Nails of steel in mugs, bands around barrels of wine or mead, ready to be cracked open. More studs lining the cabin, iron fixtures that hung lamp frames upon bent hooks. And no daggers, tonight, no swords hidden in unlikely places. Not that he could see or feel.\n\nA long exhale escaped him as his eyes fluttered back open and his shoulders relaxed. There was little danger, but still some part of him did not feel wholly present without his armor on, and the gray steel plate fit around his frame as if it were a second skin. A stag, not so much engraved as transmuted into being upon his breastplate in pure gold. The crown, a heavy golden wreath shaped as if antlers had been woven into a circlet.\n\nEyes of muddy brown studied first the lake, then the cabin, then the table filled with a feast. Perhaps there was a way to help. His sabatons left the ground, and wordlessly, he began to float over to the tree, picking up one candle at a time and carefully cradling it in armored hands before he placed it upon a bough. Though the first flickered out after a gust knocked its flame from the wick, he reached out a finger, elongating the metal that covered it into a claw that glowed white-hot, and touched it to the candle to relight it.\n\nThe cheery light sprang back into existence, and slowly, he let himself down to pick up another and repeat the process..." }, { "author": "Siora Qira", "message": "\"Seems we have a small group already. This is turning out to be so exciting already. I can't wait to see who all will show up. Siora if she didn't have her wings covered would probably have them fluttering a bit with her excitement as she would be running around to greet everyone and help finish getting everything ready. It really was starting to look like a festive day at cabins for them now." }, { "author": "Dulcinea", "message": "Dulcinea would look over at Astalios as they checked out that he was doing by the fire as they would be close to the fire. They would stay quiet as it seemed the person was in deep thought by how they looked. Staying working on the fire for a bit longer before deciding to go help somewhere else over startling the newcomer to the festivities.\n\nWalking over to the groups that showed up before they would hold out their hands for the gifts, wanting go help out with getting the presents in for the group so they could simply enjoy the festivities. Saying in their minds quickly.\"I can take the gifts in, you can go enjoy the different things around the cabins or a drink if you want.\"" } ]	262	1,888
568.555556	1776-07-04	GuildPublicThread	[ { "author": "captaincatnip", "message": "» located right outside of Ardunon, Findara\n▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂" }, { "author": "Gisele Faine", "message": "The spring breeze gently danced through the open field. Zephyrs gracefully dived in and out of the verdant meadow, providing for a peaceful imagery as the grass swayed delicately within the wind. The occasional strong push of the current caused the array of pastel painted pennants to flutter briefly, though the massive canvas tent that the pennants were strewn across remained motionless; a testament to the servants who meticulously constructed the tented pavilion. Within the vast tent, a muffled orchestra of diverse melodies played on among hearty laughter and merry conversation. From a distance, the citizens of Findara's capital speculated that a Noble had decided to host an eccentric party outside of the city gates or perhaps, the circus was in town; though the latter seemed less likely given the degree of extravagance that the decorations displayed. As a woman of mystery, Giséle Faine delighted in the enigmatic impression she was capable of leaving upon others; her ability to cultivate a secret that others couldn't help but gravitate towards. Which is why she decided to host an event of such ambiguity, so that only the great bards and music connoisseurs of Lucidien could partake within the mystery while the public remained curiously clueless. A Bard Banquet. As soon as the idea struck her, she realized that she should have held the event ages ago. Yet, it was never too late for the first of many Bard Barquets to commence and therefore, Giséle allowed the idea to blossom into reality. \n˚୨୧⋆｡\n\nThe event was already in full swing with assortments of all kinds of bards, musicians, and art lovers parading within the tent. A sense of festivity was high among the crowd and that alone filled Giséle with pride. Thus far, it was evident that the Bard Banquet was a success; a success that Giséle fully intended to craft into an annual celebration, known across the lands as a pinnacle of bard honor. Regardless of the future, Giséle maintained her focus in the present as her feline gaze flickered throughout the space. She had enjoyed a majority of the event in the presence of dear friends and now, she needed to shift her horizons to expand her network. It was time for a new face and a fresh conversation... Giséle snaked through the merrymakers, the train of her gown dragging behind her, in search of a new companion to keep her company when her eyes settled upon a familiar frame. Aurélien Faine, her beloved brother, appeared to be immersed in a discussion with a woman. Perhaps this was the new companion that Giséle required? After all, she couldn't deny Aurélien her time when she hadn't spared a second for him yet. \n˚୨୧⋆｡\n\n\"Pardon the interruption,\" Giséle offered a small curtsey, \"It is common for my brother to capture someone of unique interest in conversation. So, I was inclined to join and answer my curiosities. What is your name, dear?\" Her eyes fell over the frame of the woman, awaiting for a response. All around them, the party proceeded in full swing. Bards full with their fill of sweet ale twirled and skipped in circles at the center of the room, partaking in the glorious music that a band of dwarves and kobolds relentlessly played. Throughout the chaos, servants rushed in and out of the tent to supply the event with drink and food; carefully balancing trays of delicate pastries and savory meats, rolling in barrels of honeyed alcohol, and occasionally toting in a bundle of towels for the inevitable mess. However, Giséle had grown accustomed to these sorts of parties and the conglomeration of activities that all took place at once. Even with her far more sensitive feline senses, Giséle's ears hadn't twitched once at the level of noise and, in fact, her tail swung idly in peace." }, { "author": "Kallista, The Madam", "message": "The event was impeccably orchestrated, seemingly every detail was reviewed and revised to land it as close to perfection as possible. So much effort was put into something such as this, it was exquisite. As the Madam of the Lion's Den, Kallista had taken to a detail-oriented gaze into the production of events such as these. Nevertheless, she found its extravagance of a different scale than that of the events in Khisfire, let alone her place of work. She had never ventured so far as Findara before but was all the more appreciative of its differences. The air in Khisfire always felt dry, devoid of any humidity. Here, though, it was quite a pleasant spring. The breeze flew through her silk dress, rippling through its embroidered hem, causing it to flutter at the parallel slits that drew up her legs. The rich, dark mauve of the dress wasn't quite on the color palette of the event, but its golden embroidery glimmered in the daylight and brought the succubus back to her home. Only so much could be foreign, after all.\n\nParusing the crowd, she had meandered her way into conversation with a certain Aurélien Faine. The man was courteous, yet curious of her work. In all truth, she was shocked to have received an invitation. It was most uncommon for those of prestige to look upon someone with a career history such as hers. However, she'd met only the kindest of people, albeit very few knew much of her. Her fame in Khisfire was centered around one kind of business- which she had been feverishly attempting to change. Now that she had integrated more artistry and intrigue into her performances, it seemed she had broken the mold. Apparently, the rich enjoyed some diversity in their entertainment after all. Of course, she had limited chances to truly perform with fire, but ideally, this would pave the way for more. Mr. Faine was most welcoming, which calmed her ever-buried nerves- along with a drink, of course.\n.\n\nKallista was mid-sip of a glass of champagne as she noticed the Vesani woman approaching. There was no mistaking Giséle Faine, not in this business. Her eyes flicked between the siblings momentarily as she approached, their resemblance was all but minimal. It was easy to place the two as related, even if he hadn't introduced himself. The chiffon draped loosely over her upper body moved with her as she turned to include the woman in their conversation. It too, was embroidered with golden trim, cut with a whimsical flare that exaggerated any arm movement. The style was a favorite of Kallista, having had the dress custom-made for the occasion. It fit quite perfectly, fitted at the waist as a cacophony of gold details made their way up her torso to an aquamarine stone fitted just under her bust. She even had the jewelry custom-ordered to match, her chest dappled with more stones and gold, wrists and ankles adorned with bangles, even adding a headpiece to compliment the cerulean of her hair and gold of her horns. If there was anything the dark-eyed woman enjoyed more than performing, it was the extravagance of the life they had all chosen.\n\nAs the hostess arrived, Kallista reciprocated her curtsey with an added dip of the head. It was not every day that Giséle Faine asked for someone's name. She answered in a smooth tone, her accent gentle, yet ever-present despite her attempts to erase it. \"It is all the pleasure in the world to make your acquaintance. I am Kallista Re'esseh. Your brother has been most kind, we were just discussing the sheer beauty of this lovely event you have so generously put together\". Her dark eyes met Giséle's, surveying her in turn. She took a moment to drink in the experience, the ambiance, the guests, it was just as divine as she had imagined. A smile rested upon her painted lips, despite her own decades of experience, she still found herself in awe of every event she partook in. Still, she disguised it well, it was her job after all." }, { "author": "lona Eir Olafdottr", "message": "Iona was more than late in their arrival to this banquet. She still didn't quite know why she even came to such an event. She felt more than out of place with the style of the clothes she was wearing compared to others. Iona had by chance been invited by someone hearing her playing in the square, at first it had sounded maybe like something she might enjoy. It had been some time since joining in any type of festival and her mother had encouraged her to come saying she needed to try and not be so guarded with others just because of their past. Though it was hard not to be when they were the lost queen and princess of Dasvaz, a home Iona didn't even remember. \n\nIona would stay close to the wall of the tent, watching the interact of others as she took note of her own dress. It was very simple, pale blue in color with frayed edges from years of worked. Though the shoulders of it would have a bit of embroidery that went across the square bonince of the dress, a leather waist corset that looked more like a belt in the fashion of it. She'd have a leather upper arm cuff on her left arm and than a stone pendant that hung on a leather strap. It felt like she's come straight from working than having planned to come to a banquet. She felt the same with her violin as it wasn't as fancy as others instruments looked. Hers was made of bone and wood. Barbaric looking is how most seemed to think she looked especially when it came to her Goliath size. \n\nIona really didn't know how to join in. She was only 18 yet it seemed like she didn't really know how to have fun. She just would be listening to the music as one hand would be playing along with the tune at her side. The music was at least helping calm her nerves with being in such a busy place." }, { "author": "Aurelien Egeus Faine", "message": "Aurelien Loved The attention, he loved all of the eyes on him, practically feasting off of it. He was like an easily excitable cat, his gaze flitting from each and every guest, until his caught the eye of one gorgeous bard. The Madam of the Lions Den, a woman who was likely as gorgeous as Aurelien was. And for that, she had piqued his interest. Eyes cascading along her form, as he kept his brown eyes looking across the magnificent tent. \n\nGisele always had the perfect eye. She was just, amazing. There was a clear reason why Aurelien looked up to his older sister so much, she was everything he wanted. She was a famous bard, she was perfect, beautiful, and amazing. Ever since his youth, he had always looked up to her, and he still did now. He wanted to be just like his older sister, and he even found himself imitating various quirks of hers. \n\nAs he moved closer to the curious woman, Aurelien kept his steps light, and airy. He held his clothing close to himself, his cloak trailing behind him, the gorgeous reds and whites. As if engrosed in thought, Aurelien finally met the woman he had been looking for, engaging her in various conversation. Complimenting her on her business, the sheer beauty of her attire, and her beauty. \n\nAs he had gotten the woman and himself a drink, they began to talk about the gorgeous event, and just how well Gisele had been able to put it together. It was a feat of legendary proportions, and he was very happy to enjoy it. He lightly jumped, hearing the announcement of his sisters arrival, and as Kallista turned to face her, so did Aurelien. \n\n\"My dear sister. What a Pleasure To see you,\" His voice was happy, and excited to see his sister. He took a sip of his champagne, awaiting for his sister's response." }, { "author": "Ozmodeus 'Starsinger' Shyama", "message": "Whether he was fashionably late or on time, a new face neared the entrance of the massive tent. Inhaling a deep breath, the young incubi exhaled quietly through his nostrils before looking over himself with a quick glance. Ensuring everything on his person was in place, Ozmodeus 'Starsinger' Shyama strode forward with confidence, and entered the tent. His appearance was striking, and would stand out in any crowd- at least in a crowd that didn't consist of equally flashy and talented bards. At the very least his pink hair seemed to somewhat unique amongst the guest list, and his attire left little to the imagination.\n\nWearing his usual attire, pink was always the theme with the Starsinger. Being an idol amongst other idols meant the attention wouldn't be entirely on himself- a boon in disguise. He may have had an unmatched stage presence, but he'd be lying if he didn't admit he was the smallest bit nervous. Ozmodeus gazed around at the other faces, noticing and recognizing most. After all, they were fellow members of the Brotherhood- if Ozmodeus Didn't Know them, could he truly call himself an idol? \n_ _\n\nA black cloth shirt hugged his form- unbuttoned down to his lower stomach, revealing his chest and some of his abdomen. Beneath it, a black leather strap hugging tightly across his breast, only accentuating the body beneath it. White, stainless pants covered his lower half, as well as a black belt with a golden buckle. All things considered, this was the simplest part of his outfit. Lastly, a black color with a golden ring and short chain rest around his neck- one could only wonder what nefarious things the Starsinger got up to with that chain dangling from his neck. All in all, regardless of his status as a bard, one could argue he looked like what someone who'd never seen a concubus would assume they looked like- as immodest as they come.\n\nOzmodeus wouldn't be a bard without his trusted lyre, 'Ovlesa'. Any vesani, concubi or even tiefling would know the name meant 'Star Song' in infernal. It was beautifully crafted and clearly enchanted. For now, it rest on his back neatly. Looking around, Ozmodeus was curious who he'd talk with first. Gisele immediately caught his attention, alongside someone he believe to be was her brother- both standing near a beautiful woman Oz did not recognize. Turning, the incubus noticed a long girl standing close to the walls of the tent. She had yet to catch a conversation it seemed- so Ozmodeus began heading her way. Scanning his playful and devilish orange eyes over her, the bard stopped a few feet away from her.\n_ _\n\n\"Morning-\" Ozmodeus spoke, his voice calm and welcoming. \"-I don't believe I know you. Are you new to the Brotherhood or a lone troubadour?\" The idol studied her violin for a moment and noticed the lack of flair- but Ozmodeus wasn't judging her in the slightest. Perhaps this bard preferred a more simple look? Anyone looking over at the two it would practically seem like night and day. Ozmodeus's pointed tail swung idly behind him, so low to the ground it was inches from grazing it. \"I'm Ozmodeus Shyama- but you may know me better as Starsinger.\" The incubi bowed low, as he would for any lady regardless of her status or standing.\n\nHe was a gentleman's gentleman." }, { "author": "Gisele Faine", "message": "While Giséle is a seasoned citizen of Lucidien, she certainly didn't recognize every face and remember every name. She might know the ins and outs of some Kingdoms although there were other Kingdoms where she had little influence which affected her access to information. Therefore, when Giséle's gentle gaze settled on the Succubus, her mind surfaced a blank on the other woman's identity. Yet, this was the true function of the Bard Banquet so there was no shame to be held about a lack of knowledge about her guests; events like this were meant as a means to expand her network in business and perhaps, even provide a rare opportunity for friendship. Regardless, Giséle had assigned her servants to scout the lands for bards and artists alike to invite, so there was an obvious potential that there would be more than a handful of guests that she didn't know at all. \n\nKallista Re'esseh. Giséle would do well to cement the name to her memory; after all, there was nothing more embarrassing than forgetting someone's name shortly after they introduced themselves. Judging on how the woman responded, she appeared to be an individual who was experienced in social settings. No hesitation laced her words nor did any apprehension flicker across her features. With such confidence, Giséle was intrigued to dive into further discussion with the woman. Though before she could respond, Aurélien spoke up and greeted her. Despite her typical well composed stature, Giséle couldn't help but allow her rosy lips to curve into a warm smile and her tail to stick straight up in joy. The Vesani Idol had a special spot for her brother and his presence was something that could easily sway her mind away from the formalities of events; though never enough where she'd allow herself to become undignified. Therefore, as quickly as her body language shifted in the proximity of Aurélien, it quickly changed back to grace. \n˚୨୧⋆｡\n\n\"Aurélien, it's always a pleasure,\" Giséle nodded at her brother and then returned her attention to Kallista with a soft smile, \"Kallista, it's lovely to meet you. Thank you for your kind words. But, the beauty of my event is only pronounced with the presence of guests like you so, thank You For attending and making this Bard Banquet truly come to life. However, let's not get bogged down in too many formalities. This event is a celebration of artistry after all, so you must tell me of yours dear~ Perhaps a dancer? You certainly have a physique for it.\" As an artist herself, Giséle could usually recognize the differences between types of performers; musicians, dancers, singers, and more. She dabbled in multiple arts of performance so perhaps, she had a certain angle that allowed her to pinpoint what talents an individual possessed." }, { "author": "Kallista, The Madam", "message": "The drinks at this event, despite how lovely they were, felt weak to Kallista. Perhaps it was her tolerance, she was spoiled back home. Leovyr kept his establishment well-kept with alcohol from around the world, and the light champagne of the occasion felt like nothing but bubbly sweetness in comparison to her taste for the richness of a dark red wine. Though it was nothing to complain about, she wondered how many of these delicate glasses it would take to get her to feel the effects of the alcohol within. The succubus assumed it was to keep everyone in order, at least for this introductory stage of the event.\n\nDark eyes watched as Giséle greeted her brother. The woman, no matter how skilled she was at keeping her composure, seemed as if she would always have a soft spot for her brother. It was sweet, matching the two's graceful presentation. Elegance, sweetness, gentleness, the entire place seemed coaxed in it with Giséle around. Quite the change from home, but not an unwelcome one. Kallista felt her lips fall into a similar smile alongside the words that followed the siblings' quick exchange. Her demeanor, though calculated, was more gentle than usual. Her horns glimmered in the sunlight as she dipped her head to Giséle's observation. It was to be expected, that the idol hostess wasn't completely aware of all of her guests, especially with an event this size. Kallista felt it was a good opportunity to place herself in good graces for the sake of her own career, if not just to sell her place of work as one that would love to house the secrets of the famous.\n\n\"You have quite the eye. Yes, I am a dancer, hailing from the Lion's Den in Sol's Landing. Do you know of it?\" The smile lacing her lips grew at the mention of her work. It wasn't every day one could discuss their passions with others who felt similarly. She swirled what was left of the drink in her glass as she spoke, her smooth intonation matching that of her surroundings. \"I dance in many different styles, some more classic, others well...\", She placed her free hand over her chest to emphasize, \"I would at least describe as innovative.\"\n\n'Dance' was such a wide way of describing so many variants of artistry, that it felt like a rather minimizing word. Nevertheless, Kallista was keen to share. She wondered after the musicians, having come into direct contact with those who mainly performed in brothels. To her, they were often not the stars of shows, but the absolute foundation from which they were built. At home, she made sure that they were well-kept. Vocalists, however, were another story. They were few and far between in her line of work at home, but in the vastness of the world, idols such as Giséle were known everywhere. That kind of fame, what did it taste like? Perhaps that was why the Vesani woman was so saccharine, with the syrupy liquid gold of fame coursing through her veins. \"It is most lovely to see a collection of like-minded individuals in the same place. I often wonder what the world outside my personal stage is like, and it is just gorgeous to see it come to life. You must tell me what your own work is like being the renowned idol you are\"." }, { "author": "lona Eir Olafdottr", "message": "Iona had been just looking around the room as she still felt out of place. Everyone was off talking and visiting while she had no idea what to do. Sure she could maybe try talking to someone but who or was she going to make someone annoyed with her if she jumped into a conversation? She also had no idea what to even talk about if she did, she only was in a town or village but for a few months before she was once again reclusive in the forest for the rest of the year. \n\nThough she took note of everyone coming in, there was a lot of bards that seemed to come in. She'd see a few of them on posters and seen a few when going by in the streets. She did notice though that one of them seemed to be coming over.\n\nShe didn't know who they were though. He was a either a incubi or a teifling she guessed? She didn't know for sure and asking would make her probably get embarrassed by that simple question. Was he a singer or dancer? She couldn't see if they had an instrument or not but either way she was sure they were good at it with just the way they dressed. Though all of them dressed fancy while she looked like a simple worker that happened to come into here by mistake. It was intimidating just by so many were fancy and famous. \n\nOnce the stranger got close she would give a small smile, wanting to be polite even if she didn't know them. \"Morning-\" She would reply, her voice seemed rough as if not used very often. \"I'm sure you haven't met me before. I'm not either of those, I just happened to be invited last moment because someone heard me here.\" Iona would move her violin to hold a bit closer since someone was now close and she felt protective of it. She didn't comment on their tail but it was something she noticed, she wondered about it sure since she didn't interact with his type much but best to keep her questions to herself.\n\n\"It's a pleasure to meet you, sir. Though I'm afraid I have never heard of you, I'm sure you are quite popular though as most here seem to be? Though I could also be wrong as I'm not accustomed to other bards and what everyone is good at.\" Iona would though give a bow back as she wanted to be respectful to whoever she was talking to since she was probably younger than most here. And though she might be a princess she was one no one knew about so she was still a no-one to everyone." } ]	602	5,117
395.285714	1776-07-04	GuildPublicThread	[ { "author": "Doctor Jones", "message": "It had been a quiet day, all things considered. The cold of winter made it so many were reluctant to go out, and thus accidents occurred way less frequently, making it so the Doctor had a relatively peaceful day - relatively being the emphasized word there. For indeed, there were people foolish enough to brave the cold, and the snow, and then they got hurt, and who would have to fix it? What a pain...\n\nThe subject in question was a hunter, a High Elven man that had likely wanted to provide for his family, but gotten skewered by the very boar he was trying to kill. The boar had run off, leaving the man alone to die - or at least, he would die, were it not for the convenient presence of the Doctor. It really was lucky that he had gotten hurt so close to their home.\n\nWere it up to them, Doctor Jones would have spent the day huddled close to their fireplace and waited for the snow to go away, but it wasn't up to them, was it? So, after sensing the injury that took place, they'd grabbed their thin overcoat and rushed out of the house, sprinting to the location as fast as their legs would carry them, mentally cursing the blasted cold. Luckily, he was only a few minutes away.\n\nThey approached the man without hesitation, and despite his weakened protests, had started the process of healing him, fusing his flesh back together in a process that was painful enough to make him scream and swear at every god under the sun, until it was over and he could only lay there, weakly gasping for breath.\n\nDespite having cured his physical wounds, Doctor Jones knew instinctively that he'd lost too much blood to make the journey back home. So, a sigh escaping them, they took his left hand in both of theirs, and a small slit opened up in their wrist and his. Blood started flowing from their body into his, and after a few moments, both minor injuries closed, the man already looking to be doing a lot better.\n_ _\n\nHe didn't stick around for long after that, encouraged by Doctor Jones to rush back home and get some food in his body, which he did, leaving them behind, words of gratitude trailing behind him before he disappeared. Doctor Jones, meanwhile, pushed themself back to their feet, standing slightly unsteadily. Best get home as well.\n\nThey were not a particularly pretty image to look at. Pale, thin, appearing to be maybe sixteen or seventeen years of age, with their shoulders perpetually slumped, and a look in their eyes that spoke of someone that had lived for centuries and just wanted to lay their head down and sleep. Their clothes hung loosely on their thin frame, and they were shivering in the cold, not at all dressed for the weather - they hadn't had the time to hunt for a proper coat before rushing out. What didn't help the image was their own blood loss making them appear even paler than usual, and making their walk slightly wobbly, having to pause to rest against a tree occasionally before resuming their journey, feet trudging through the snow. What a pain..." }, { "author": "Anything", "message": "A small, well-muscled girl with gray skin and intricate black markings spoke about snow back in the slave quarters of the Pit. The girl had no hair anywhere for the mothfolk to run her tarsal claws through, but the girl seemed to find comfort in touching the other's patchy fur. She was the one who first told the mothfolk about snow.\nAt the time it sounded beautiful, but being in it was less pleasant than the little girl had described. The snow came up well above her ankle joints and numbed the claws below, and more snow would fall periodically from the canopy above to cover her head and shoulders. She shook herself again to shed the weight. \nThe forest around her was silent, save for the rustling of branches and snow crunching under her weight. A distant cry broke the relative silence and she paused to turn towards it. The unmistakable cry of pain was impossible for her to ignore. The surge of alarm and adrenaline carried her stiff limbs crashing through the snow now. It wasn't long before she discovered the source: an elven man lying prone in the snow, groaning and clutching the crimson stain on his abdomen. She observed him behind the cover of a tree. The man was well armed with a bow and hunting knife, but didn't seem much in a state to use them. He would only be a danger if he panicked. Before she could think of a way to make her hulking insectoid form less threatening, another elf approached. \nThis one was scrawnier and unarmed. Less of a threat in physical combat than the bleeding man they were now crouched over. She stayed hidden and watched. \n\nShe watched them knit his skin together like there was no wound at all.\nShe watched them take their own blood to rejuvenate the man.\n\nDespite looking near death themself, the elf stood back up and saw the man off. \nWith magic like that, she would never have to hold a corpse in her arms again.\nAs the elf trudged away through the snow, a hulking mothfolk trailed not far behind." }, { "author": "Doctor Jones", "message": "It was so tempting to just go home. Leave this blasted cold behind, pretend that there was nothing else happening at all, the Doctor just wanted to curl up next to their fireplace and sleep huddled under as many blankets as they could find. But it seemed like that wasn't going to be as easy as they'd like it to be.\n\nA root, hidden under the snow. Most would simply step over it, but with how much they were trudging their feet, it wasn't happening. And so, the Doctor tripped and fell, just barely managing to extend their arms in time to catch themself. For a second, they lay there, let out a low grumble, and then pushed themself into a sitting position, brushing some snow off their clothes. This all was such a massive pain...\n\nA sigh escaped them as they tried to get up again. Their home was so close, just a little bit longer and they could go back to sleep... However, there was one issue - the wave of dizziness overtaking them the instant they rose to their feet, forcing them to sit back down to avoid fainting. A low curse, muttered in their local Elvish drifted from their mouth as they covered their face with their left hand, resisting the urge to scream into the heavens at everything. It was fine, they just had to rest for a few minutes, and then they could continue. It was...\n\nWhat was that?\n\nA sudden feeling caught their attention. A faint tug at the edge of the senses. A creature was nearby. Something vaguely humanoid, something huge. Something that seemed like it could squash them in an instant.\n\nThe Doctor turned their head in the direction of whatever, or whoever it was, staring directly at the stranger, even if they remained hidden. \"I know you're there,\" They said, voice low but still audible enough. \"I don't know why you're following me, but if you're planning to kill me... All I can do is ask that you do it quickly.\"" }, { "author": "Anything", "message": "She watched the elf stumble into the snowdrift, again. She had hung this far back to safely observe from a distance, but the longer this went on the less of a threat the elf seemed. They carried themself with too much assurance for someone so frail looking (which the mothfolk had learned from experience that it was dangerous to assume that sort of confidence was misplaced). \n\nBut now, watching them lie face-first in the snow, it was clear that they were a more of a threat to themself if they went on like this.\n\nThen they turned and looked directly towards her. She stiffened.\n\n\"I know you're there,\"\n\"I don't know why you're following me, but if you're planning to kill me... All I can do is ask that you do it quickly.\"\n\nA long few seconds passed before the mothfolk forced herself out from behind the tree. The elf would die and she wouldn't know how they healed that man. No more corpses.\n\nShe was directly above them now, casting a long shadow. From where she loomed she examined the elf closer. It was a familiar scene painted on a stranger. The gaunt frame of a child with eyes weary beyond their years. That old pain settled in her chest again. \n\n\"No.\"\n\nThe sound was raspy and thin, more of a hiss than a word. She held out a clawed tarsus down towards the elf." }, { "author": "Doctor Jones", "message": "The creature that emerged was a curious thing, not a species the Doctor had commonly seen, especially around these parts. However, it was a creature type they recognized, though they hadn't ever seen one like that. Most of the species tended to be more... Slender, didn't they?\n\nWell, whatever. It didn't matter how unusual this Mothfolk was, because no matter the size of the creature, the Doctor felt like a child could take them out right now. It'd been a while since they'd shown such weakness... It really was unfortunate that it happened in winter, where staying idle for too long could and would kill them. At least this person was going to quicken the process... Right?\n\nThey crossed their legs beneath them and let their eyes fall shut, preparing for the inevitable pain, and then, the end. They wouldn't be able to last for long anyway because of the blood loss they'd experienced, so at least it'd be quick. A bit of a pathetic end, but being killed by a complete stranger while on their way home? There was a strange irony to it that made a wry smile form on the Doctor's lips.\n\nHowever, that inevitable end... Didn't come. In fact, the Mothfolk spoke up and seemingly denied that, though with a voice like that, the Doctor felt like they might've misheard it. Still, they opened one eye to look at the creature, then the other, seeing the hand extended to them. What?\n\nThey raised an eyebrow in confusion at the stranger. \"What do you want?\" They asked curtly, not in the mood to be polite, nor to accept the help from a complete stranger - assuming that was even help to begin with. Who knew, the Mothfolk might have some strange customs that the Doctor didn't know of. Either way, they folded their hands in their lap, staring up at the stranger defiantly, as if daring her to do anything more." }, { "author": "Anything", "message": "Just like a child.\n\nShe retracted her tarsus and crouched in front of the elf. She craned her neck down to meet their eyes. As much as she had done to minimize herself, the discrepancy in size was obvious. \n\nShe let the unfamiliar words come to her slowly.\n\n\"Not... Do be... Do not be scared,\" She hissed softly, \"Where is your living... Place, home. Cold.\"\n\nEven as another drift of snow blanketed her shoulders she sat, perfectly still, save for the subtle dancing of her antennae and involuntary twitch of her wings. She was listening beyond the elf, for cracking branches or shuffling snow. \n\nShe flexed her tarsal claws rhythmically. Being so exposed did not aid her patience. She could pick them up with one limb as easy as a twig and find a more sheltered location. Attempting to grab them now would only scare them further. Though they seemed to be no threat in this state, she saw how they manipulated their own blood. \nShe couldn't risk making them panic, because deep in her gut—above the pity and old pains of loss—was the sure impression that facing whatever may be hunting beyond the treeline was preferable to learning what this blood-commanding elf is capable of when they're desperate." }, { "author": "Doctor Jones", "message": "Scared? No, the Doctor wasn't scared, they were just... Cold, annoyed, more than a little tired, but scared, they were not. Did she think they were scared of her? Was that why this stranger was trying to make herself so small? How odd.\n\nAt that question, their gaze darted in the direction of their home for the briefest of moments before returning to the Mothfolk with a slight furrowing of the brow. What was she talking about? Was she trying to take them back home? No, they couldn't. More than capable of showing kindness but incapable of accepting it themself, the Doctor instinctively refused, before even knowing for certain that was what the stranger wanted. Getting home was their own responsibility.\n\n\"I'm not scared,\" They huffed, looking away from her, \"Nor do I require your aid. I just needed a few moments to rest.\" They'd always been stubborn, considered to be annoyingly so by most people, generally incredibly frustrating to deal with. \"I'll be on my way now.\" Though the Doctor's voice was steady and certain, their movements were far from it. Still, they persisted.\n\nIgnoring the offered aid, the Doctor slowly, carefully pushed themself to their feet, actually managing to stand upright, much to their surprise. However, that didn't last long. Before they had a chance to process what was happening, dark splotches appeared in their vision and they felt their world turn upside-down. Uh-oh, that wasn't good. And down they went again, falling sideways to the ground, expression blank, not a sound escaping them." } ]	400	2,767
883.583333	1776-07-04	GuildPublicThread	[ { "author": "Caleesi Scarleth \| Gradmistress of Magic", "message": "Hyburns forest, known to many in Findara for being the largest in the kingdom, would soon nestle itself into the blanketed sky that was rising with the moon. Cool winds drifted gently between each tree branch, their moans and cries almost singing like an unspoken melody. While the night began, stretching out to the townspeople with twinkling stars and bellowing whistles from wildlife– A familiar face would appear from the clearing of the woods. \n\nThe high elf was cradled in the shadows, covered in a baby blue robe with its hood slinking over her face completely. Lady Caleesi Scarleth was no stranger to the nightlife, oftentimes she preferred it. Hiding about her whereabouts however was something she held much regret for... And this night was going to be no different. Since the unexpected terrors of Sorevelle, the grandmistress had not fed at all. Her schedule was far too busy, her mind all too clouded. Before the summit however, the effects of her lack in consumption had begun to show– And that was far too dangerous in itself. \n\nCaleesi knew that she needed to take action before suspicions were to rise against her, the thought of her peers finding out about her vampirism... It would kill her. Just as the wandering star settled into the sky with great height, the elven woman stripped herself from her hood. Golden tresses poured down her back in wavy curls, like waves crashing at sea. Soft footfalls carried her silently through the maze of woodland, the high elves pointed ears alert and ready for any movement or break in the silence that wasn't her own. \n_ _\n\nIt had been an exhausting few nights of no sleep for Lady Scarleth, her veins lit, blood feeling as though it was on fire. Due to the cursed woman's nature of being a vampire, and her strict policies against feeding on human blood– and instead animal blood – her vamprisim affects her differently than others. Caleesi needed rest, just like any other mortal. The lack of tending to her needs only worsening her mental state. It felt as though each day she was shaking needles out of her spine just to get by, no mercy for the pain she endured. Yet even still, Caleesi held a certain kind of guilt for the events that had happened, the words from Princess Alithia still replaying in her head. \n\n\"Why was she left under longer?\" \n\nIt wasn't as if the council woman had a choice in the matter. Though Cali couldn't shake the feeling of all those eyes looking at her, Judging her. Scarleth knew she held no candle to royalty, the only thing of use of her was her magic, not even her forgotten duchy could hold significance now. Nevertheless, the weight of trying to smooth things over held stiffly on her shoulders. Trying not to get distracted by second thoughts, the sorceress' bright, cerulean eyes caught movement in the shadows, the scent of a rabbit prancing under her nose.\n _ _\n\nSoon, the eleven women's stance changed significantly. Moving through the thick forest with nimble grace, while also a predatory speed that remained unseen. Following the ruckus of the leaves, a hunger panged Caleesi's insides, pupils pulsing into fine slits. The witches of the north had trained her to become a hunter, and a skilled one at that. Wind flowed wildly through Lady Scarleths hair, rustling her white ivory dress in a billowing formation. In those moments, she felt free. Rid of the monster beneath her skin. \n\nJust as Caleesi had thought to be caught up with her prey however, a new scent found its way to her nose. It was one of alluring sweetness, wet and rich. Enough to make the grandmistress stop in her tracks, the thumping sounds of her dinner faded into the background. A groaning plea now filling her ears. Sucking in a sharp breath, Scarleths eyes grew wide. Was someone hurt? There was no time for questioning it, she thought to herself, pressing one soul into the dirt before taking off towards the smell of–\n\nBlood. Blood was everywhere. The heavy scent of ichor sizzled at her nose. Wrapping itself around her throat, Making her choke. For a moment, Caleesi staggered, her hands balling together at her sides. Begrudgingly however, she forced herself to look upon the clearing in which a single man laid propped against an oak tree. His helmet shaking in his grip. \"Hel... Help me..\" His voice cried softly, a spoken whisper of clotted liquid stuck in his throat. The high elf felt a significant drop in her stomach, as soon as she made the decision to move closer, the sight of the poor man a massacre. \n_ _\n\nIn the dim glow of moonlight, flesh littered the ground. Entrails coiled and tangled around a gaping, open wound left on the side of the dying Findaran, though once he saw Caleesi, a weak smile appeared on his face. \"O-Oh thank you..\" The male gasped, his lips quivering with anticipation. Cali fell to her knees almost immediately, her palms hesitant to press against his torn up side. \"Shhh,\" She whispered, the calmness in her voice a soothing wave. \"Don't move, i'm going to get you out of here..\" \n\n\"No.\" A hand promptly gripped the woman's wrists, and soon Caleesi was forced to look at the face of a heartbreaking soul. \"I just need you to tell my daughter... Tell Lilith I love her...\" Through a bittersweet smile, the old man patted Lady Scarleths hand, signaling his time to go. The high elf was taken aback by such a jarring statement, lost with herself and what to do. \"Just don't let me go in pain. Please... Finish me quickly.\" \n\nAdrenaline was now pumping within the woman's blood, his free flowing body fluid stinging her hungry eyes. He was wanting her to kill him... How could she? He was clearly in pain, his time short. Caleesi knew this, her hunger roaring in the back of her mind. But to take a life at all... It felt wrong. Looking over the man's butchered body, red pulsated in her blue irises– her teeth screaming for release. Squeezing his hand back in return, a painful look twisted Caleesi's face. Tears swelling in her monstrous eyes. \"I will... I promise.\" \n\nLeaning forwards, Caleesi whispered a blessing, and closed her eyes. Now all she had to do was take a bite...\n\|\| Song: Good to be alive by PVRIS \|" }, { "author": "Ruvyn Balfir", "message": "From the shadows, just out of Caleesi's vision, a man stood with his hands in his pockets. Donning an elegant suit of red and black, Ruvyn watched the entire thing with interest, specifically in the woman. The smell of blood enticed the young vampire to draw closer to its source, upon which another individual arrived. A high elf woman with porcelaine features out at this time of night? It was strange, and Ruvyn would need to keep his wits about him. For all he knew she had done this to the man. While he had intentions to feed, he'd not do so at the risk of his own life.\n\nAsriella would resurrect him just to kill him again if he made such a mistake.\n\nNevertheless, Ruvyn remained silent for the time being, instead choosing to silently watch with curiosity in his vermillion eyes. He could only see her back for now, but hearing the man gargle out a plea caused Ruvyn to squint his eyes slightly. Making promises to a dying man was strange, but Ruvyn wouldn't judge her for it. He knew little of the situation, and would remain out of sight until he had a better understanding. Tilting his head back slightly as he watched, Ruvyn's eyes quickly widened when he watched the elven woman lean down in a pose the vampire knew all too well- she was biting the man.\n\n_ _\nRuvyn's eyes darkened. She was another vampire, and a much larger threat than he had initially realized. Perhaps he could fight her off, take the meal for his own, but something was off. Why was she crying? Was this not something she regularly did? Obviously this kill was not hers, but a meal was a meal. Furrowing his brow in contemplation on what to do, Ruvyn stayed still and quiet for a long moment before finally deciding. The smell of the man's blood had grown too enticing, so with a silent sigh Ruvyn finally stepped out of the shadows.\n\nFor the time being, his mask was upon his face. It made being spotted much easier to escape from, and no one would ever be able to recognize him in normal circumstances at the side of Asriella. It also allowed him to feed without feeling as though it were he who was doing so. The mask was the vampire, not Ruvyn. At least in his own little fantasy of Coping With his affliction. Staying at least two dozen feet away from the woman and man, Ruvyn kept his hands in his pockets. The mask upon his face was mangled and terrifying in its own way, a large opening revealed Ruvyn's mouth and left eye, the red within it as plain as day.\n\nTeeth lined the top and bottom of the opening, leaving a sick visage before the elven woman. It was not his intent to scare her, but if she was a threat perhaps doing so would be best. It would leave Ruvyn with a meal if that were the case. Still, she did not know he was there, and so after carefully assessing the situation, Ruvyn finally opened his mouth to speak.\n\n\"It's dangerous to be out this late in the forest, you know.\"" }, { "author": "Caleesi Scarleth \| Gradmistress of Magic", "message": "But she had done it.\n\nEvery voice in her head had screamed and shouted, the morals Caleesi prided herself on so much, all crumbled at the twisted plea of a dying man. Once the vampires' lips touched the pulse of a warm neck, it was as if the world had stopped turning. And Caleesi herself was no longer in control... Bladed fangs found flesh, and there, in those fleeting moments was hesitation. Through biting sobs, Lady Scarleth fought herself profusely before ultimately deciding to pierce into it. The soft warmth giving way like a ripe melon. A forbidden fruit, filling her mouth with thick, tangy blood. \n\nAt first, the bite was gentle, and the human in her got some small sense of comfort in knowing that perhaps this elder would die a peaceful death. However.. The vile monster in her simply couldn't care less, not as long as the sweet, dark crimson fluid continued to flow down her throat. Pumping her full of stolen life and vitality. Shuddering, the woman's grip upon the male grew deeper, and soon Caleesi lost herself to the one thing she swore she'd never become.\n\nGulping mouthful after mouthful, reveling in the strength and life that filled her veins, jolted her limbs, and granted her the restoration of her powers once more. The dying elf gave a single, small exhale as the light would soon leave his eyes, his body growing limp as strong arms supported more of his weight. But even when the sorceress knew that enough was enough, Cali couldn't bring herself to let go. Like an animal gone savage, the high elf sunk her teeth in deeper. Sound of ripping flesh and gurgled breaths drew heavy, and soon Lady Scarleth took until there was nothing left to take– Finally exhaling the breath she held for so long. Dropping the corpse to the ground. \n_ _\n\nFalling back in sudden realization, Caleesi's face grew paler. A troubled noise escaped the woman's throat as she tangled her fist into the wet grass, specks of blood coating the blades. Cali hadn't noticed any movement around her within the forest. No shuffle in the leaves, not even a twig snapping under the pressure of weight harboring into the clearing. So, when a voice of unfamiliarity struck her eardrums- The high elf shivered. It was then that her instincts would kick in, a bright purple glow formed within the bloody palm of the sorceress as she cut her fist out in front of her– Scanning the midnight grove. \"Don't come any closer!\" Caleesi warned, the tremors in her throat giving away the fear that shackled her. \n\nBy now, the magic projecting from her appeared in runic symbols; easily noted as a defensive spell from the school of abjuration. Beneath the violaceous hues, crackles of lightning boiled together haphazardly. A violent stir of unpredictable magic; ready to strike if need be. It was safe to say since the summit that Lady Scarleth was affected by the overuse of her magic. The need to recharge and ground herself once more far more apparent. But now... Now she had something far worse to worry about. \n\nAs the stranger ominously wandered forwards and into the clearing of the moon-kissed forest forest floor, he would no doubtably see the startling sight of Caleesi– Coated and cemented in shades of running crimson. The bright red fluids splattered against her pure white clothing, trickling down her forearms and to her elbows to where the drops would then dirty the ground below. Tears Burned The corners of the she-elfs eyes. Even in their monstrous state. Pain was all that was written upon her face. \"P-Please..\" Scarleth stammered again, eyes bolting around the blurry strangers frame. Blood spilled from the woman's mouth as she spoke, and through a quivered lip, Cali pushed forward. \"I-It wasn't me, i didn't mean.. It wasn't me..\"\n\n_ _\nBarely able to get solid words out, the sorceress could be seen trembling beneath the weight of her wrong-doings. Now that someone had cornered her in this mess, it was surely only a matter of time before her secret was out, and her job– better yet her life, would end along with it. Frozen with a panic, Scarleth nearly doubled over. 'What if he just kill him'? A voice sparked in her mind, 'Make it look like an accident'? Another chimed in. \"He'll just run and tell...' \n\nBy the look of him, this man Did Seem frightening. Though she was not an active visitor of Findara's kingdom, she didn't see many masked individuals with such horrific faces. Hairs stood on the back of Cali's neck as he drew closer, causing her spell to broaden. However the voice that spoke from such a devilish disguise didn't match the appearance– It's calm and almost endearing tone striking her with somehow more fear than she expected. \n\n\"This was an accident..\"" }, { "author": "Ruvyn Balfir", "message": "The young man watched on in quiet curiosity as the woman tore the man open to feast upon his life. Tilting his head ever so slightly as she finally let go of the long dead man in her arms and fell back, Ruvyn simply watched. Well, that meal was long gone. Part of him was tempted to leave and not play with whatever this situation was, but the vibrant purple magic that quickly appeared in the terrified she-elf's hands pulled him back in. As plain as day Ruvyn could see the woman trembling. He had noticed how gentle and worried she was for the man before tearing him apart, which for all he knew was a ruse to be able to do so to begin with.\n\n\"Abjuration.\" Ruvyn muttered in a calm and quiet manner as he inspected the magic within the woman's hands. Now Ruvyn was no sorcerer, wizard or warlock. In fact, he had no magic whatsoever save for the damned abilities being a vampire came with. No, Ruvyn was skilled with a blade. Against a fellow vampire who could use magic however and Ruvyn just knew he was outmatched. A calm discussion would be required to get anywhere this woman. Force could leave Ruvyn injured or worse, and Asriella would surely be upset with anything more. The sudden surge of adrenaline and energy from feeding clearly had an effect on the she-elf's magic, and while Ruvyn was weary to come close his feet remained firmly planted in the soil.\n_ _\n\nThe smell of blood begged Ruvyn to come closer, but as he peered past the woman to the man in the dirt he quickly came to the conclusion that cup was empty. His veins were dull of color as was his skin, and even that had sunken in to reveal the bones beneath. Clicking his tongue with disappointment, Ruvyn returned his blood red gaze to meet the woman's who he now realized had begun to cry. A pit grew in Ruvyn's undead heart, his brow furrowing in contemplation. Perhaps her friendliness to the man wasn't a ruse. Perhaps she... Was as unlucky as Ruvyn had been once upon a time. Even still, living in Prythian taught Ruvyn men and women alike knew just what strings to pull to get their way, tears and all.\n\nThe she-elf almost looked like she was the victim of a vicious attack, not the attacker herself. The blood coating every inch of her front still managed to call Ruvyn closer. If it were Asriella, Ruvyn would have more than one meal before him, but as those thoughts entered their mind and the visage of his partner gave way for the she-elf, Ruvyn's eyes darkened once more. The sorceress's words still managed to tug at Ruvyn's heart, and finally he spoke once more. \"You may lower your magic, I intend to do you no harm unless you do so to me.\" Ruvyn debated on removing his mask to calm the woman, but for now he'd keep it on. For all he knew, this woman was a noble and would turn him into the guard the moment she had the chance. One well-aimed enchantment spell could easily turn Ruvyn into the next body upon the town's pyre.\n\nAsriella would likely burn the town to the ground however.\n_ _\n\n\"If you believe I intend to turn you in or report you, you can calm your nerves. I have no intention of putting a fellow vampire in Ygdramen's path.\" Slowly but surely, Ruvyn finally began to move forward. He was tentive in his movements, and Caleesi would be very aware of the blade at his side which his hands stayed well enough away from. If Ruvyn had any intention to attack, he would have used his enhanced speed and strength. As it stood, he appeared to be a normal man offering help. This entire situation was a gamble and Ruvyn knew it, but something drew him to help her. He prayed to any God that would listen to spare him of some sort of ruse the she-elf may have had up her sleeve.\n\nNow in front of the woman, Ruvyn extended his gloved hand to help her to her feet. Now closer, the she-elf would be able to see a bit more behind the mask. Clear, pale-olive skin, dark red eyes and a gentle look upon his face. \"If he was dying already then the Gods should thank you for ending his life painlessly. I'm sure even Kamara herself would prefer you feed on an already dead man than a child, don't you think so?\" Whether the she-elf took his hand or not, Ruvyn would dip his head slightly in greeting. \"Ruvyn.\"" }, { "author": "Caleesi Scarleth \| Gradmistress of Magic", "message": "At the mention of lowering her shield, Caleesi became puzzled. Even through her tear blinding gaze, those baby blues narrowed in a painfully innocent and bewildered manner. The tension this stranger had brought her was undoubtedly strong. Anyone in their right mind would have a right to fear someone of his stature- with a mask of nightmares, and burning red eyes that surely haunted Lady Scarleth. With a fist still squeezing her magic tight, Cali had no intention of letting up anytime soon, the risk of being tricked far too high in her mind. However.. The following words that echoed out from the male's lips caught the she-elf off guard once more. \n\nChills evaded the woman's skin the moment she heard the words Vampire Slide from his tongue. Soon, a sickening pit clawed its way into the grandmaster's stomach, the salty, gritty sensation of blood still pooling in her mouth becoming more apparent. It nearly made her gag. \"Don't call me that.\" Caleesi blurted out sharply, sucking a shaking breath through her teeth. Perhaps it was the fact that a monster she spent years running from was now standing before her once again, reminding her of her past. Or perhaps... It was the blatant fact she turned into one herself. \n\nThe sorceress shook her head in contemplation for a moment, shutting her eyes tightly to avoid looking at the violent, bloody mess that decorated herself and the forest floor. Before long, the high elf finally did away with her magic; it's purple and blue light crackling into a dim hue before dissipating completely. Caleesi's lips quivered once more as she opened them to speak, however, it took her a moment to find the strength to remotely pronounce her words. \"I was never supposed to end up like this... I was never supposed to be a monster.\" \n_ _\n\nBreathing in faint succession, the vampire's mind began to race. She knew better than to let her walls down within her mind– not knowing if the stranger would take advantage of her vulnerable state. In those moments of despair and reflection, one thing became clear. Caleesi couldn't get caught. She couldn't let anyone know about this night- about what she had done. When the male extended his hand in an oddly, friend-like gesture, Lady Scarleth darted her panicked gaze up towards him. Still ever fearful at the face staring back at her. She couldn't trust his intentions to be pure, nor would she with anyone if they had found her like this. So, with a heavy heart and forced swallow, the she-elf dug her fingers into the wet grass before finally pushing herself up off the ground. \n\nShe watched Ryuvn intently for a good long moment. Eyes rapidly darting between his silhouette, scanning every inch of anything out of the ordinary. Even with a dead heart sitting inside her chest, it felt as if it were going to beat out of her chest. Caleesi's lips twisted reluctantly as she came to the conclusion that his actions appeared genuine, though for whatever reason? She couldn't tell. Now that he had shared his name, Cali knew she had to act fast. It would look suspicious if she didn't introduce herself back, and the last thing the female wanted was another traumatic event with a vampire. \n_ _\n\n\"Grace.\" Scarleth lied through her teeth, hoping that Ryvun would believe it. Though it wasn't as genuine or deep, the sorceress bowed her head in return. A stifled sniffle coming from her running nose. Tears still glistened in Caleesi's eyes, no matter how hard she tried to push them back in. From time to time her gaze would travel to the elven man lying silently on the ground, and sure enough, the burning of her throat would ensue. Guilt and remorse was written all over the poor woman's face, but there was nothing she could do to reverse this evil wrong-doing.. \n\n\n\"He asked me to, as crazy as that is to believe. I just couldn't stand to see him suffering... But i can't, i just can't believe i did that..\" Another shaky sigh wavered in Cali's tone before her eyes lowered to the ground. \"I can't go back to the way i was before after this..\" \n\|\|" }, { "author": "Ruvyn Balfir", "message": "Ruvyn watched and listened quietly to the woman, her words striking him as eerily familiar. When he himself had first turned, there was a terrible regret that rest in his chest for years and years- far too long for any mortal to deal with, even an elf who lives half a century. It hit far too close to home, and caused a tinge in Ruvyn's chest and a lump to form in this throat. Swallowing it however, Ruvyn shook his head a bit. \"I denied what I was for many, many years after I first turned. There were times I even tried to end my own life. After all, who would want to be saddled with immortality if a thirst for blood came with it?\" Ruvyn retracted his hand when the woman refused to take it, before shoving both into his pockets.\n\n\"Try as you might, you are what you are- and you must live with it unless you have the stomach to kill yourself, or allow yourself to be killed.\" It was a harsh reality, but one Ruvyn himself had to come to terms with. If not for Asriella, he'd be in Infernum by now and happily so. The way Caleesi spoke and how shaken up she was struck Ruvyn as odd. She must have been recently turned, surely? No vampire years after turning acted this way, at least not any that Ruvyn had met previously. Although most were assholes, now that he thought about it, not innocent she-elves regretting every decision in their life that led up to becoming a vampire. Eyeing the woman curiously, Ruvyn's red eyes finally met hers.\n\n_ _\n\"Tell me Grace- before you turned were you a vegetarian?\" It may have sounded like a backhanded question or one dripping with sarcasm, but his eyes would tell the she-elf he was entirely serious in his inquiry. \"By the looks of you, you are of noble standing or something close to it. You must have indulged in a feast or two that filled your belly with mutton, venison, beef- am I incorrect in that assumption?\" Ruvyn began to walk around Caleesi, his eyes moving from her to the man on the ground. Putting out his foot, Ruvyn gently nudged the man as he spoke, his hands still shoved into his pockets. \"This man was dying. You were hungry. If he were a stag on it's dying breath, would you have put it out of it's misery and fed all the same?\"\n\nRemoving his foot from the man's corpse, that undenying hunger was aching in Ruvyn's belly, but he ignored it with great poise. He was skilled in going hungry for extended periods of time, only because of Asriella. She kept him fed, in check, happy. Looking back up to Caleesi however, she'd see that familiar look in his eyes- one of hunger. Nevertheless, he remained calm and unmoving as he finished speaking. \"If it's all the same to you, I would have made the same choice you did. No sense in eating yourself up over a dying man you finished off.\" His words, once again, were harsh, but perhaps the exact words Caleesi needed to hear from one of her own kind." }, { "author": "Caleesi Scarleth \| Gradmistress of Magic", "message": "When Ruvyn's words struck her ears, Caleesi's face went rigid with a twitch itching at her jaw. She'd never say aloud, but even she too had contemplated death many times over before moving into the Alynthi castle. Now, having an immortal before her voice his same growing pains, it was as if the she-elf was being forced to relive her past all over again. The sorceress hung her head low, a wave of guilt and shame set aflame beneath her feet. Was this truly the only option? Surely it couldn't be. After all Lady Scarleth had done, accomplished. Surely there was more to come before she kicked her own bucket... \n\nRight?\n\n Alas, Caleesi couldn't do much thinking when a predator was stalking mere inches from her. His eerie mask had unsettled her so much, that there was no disconnection between it and the mystery face behind it now. Cali's hazed mind meshing the two as one, if only to calm her fears. Even so, Ruvyn's intense stare kept her from daring to look at him fully. The glow of crimson hues burning into her peripherals. Yet, when this vampire spoke, it was as if he was soothing her soul. A tone of soft infliction, even if it held heavy, harsh truths. \n\n Caleesi had almost forgotten of her sudden name change when Ruvyn addressed her as such. It had taken her a second longer to acknowledge it, though, the high elf was certain that it wouldn't have been accounted for. Upon the question that trailed off his tongue however, Lady Scarleth found herself almost angered. A rush of heat simmered along her pale cheeks as she answered, \"No.\" Because he Was Right. She had plenty of feasts throughout her life, and being a vegetarian wasn't something Cali would have ever considered until after she was turned– if she could even call herself one now.\n_ _\n\nRuvyn began to prowl around the she-elf, his movements strong yet refined, like walking on air. As he circled her and the decaying corpse, Caleesi's body tensed with every step. Her eyes forced to track his own. But when the vampire shifted his gaze to inspect what lied on the floor, what words poured from him next left the Grandmistress speechless. \"I...\" Cali began, her mouth running dry as cold air filled her lungs. It sounded barbaric to imagine a Person The same as roadkill. But with how easily it was for Ruvyn to say it– let alone mean it sincerely, the high elf stopped a moment to truly contemplate it. \n\n What she was doing now was no different. Ending the life of dying animals in return of salvaging their blood. By no means would she kill an innocent, living creature, but at the end of the day... Was it all the same? Those pale azure eyes shifted towards the perished elder, his eyes closed, a small curve of peace on his lips. But it all felt wrong. So, so wrong. \"There has to be some other way to survive without living this way.\" Caleesi said finally, \"I just can't make sense of taking a person's life, even if they were dying.\" Shaking her head to avoid the guilt, Scarleth turned away from the corpse and took a breath. Blood was still consuming every sense in her body; through her nose, tangled on her tongue. Even the sight of it still clinging to her skin. Having enough, the elven woman yanked off her cape and scrubbed her hands clean as best she could, even scraping the corners of her mouth. It wasn't going to get rid of her shame, but at least having it out of eye sight was enough for now. \n\n\"Tell me, Ruvyn, are you happy with the life you live?\" \n_ _\n\nSilence stretched across the trees as Cali's words sank in. She slowly began to turn around, those golden strands of hair spilling from her face and shoulders, allowing herself to be seen fully. The she-elf forced her gaze upon the vampire even if it shook her to her core, observing him for any hint of a person behind the lacking appearance he gave. \"I assume you hide yourself because you are afraid of what you are to the world, what they would do to people Like you.\" Gesturing to his mask, she continued. \"How can we accept ourselves if we hate our own appearance? Surely you have some sort of hindrance in your life.\"\n\|\|" }, { "author": "Ruvyn Balfir", "message": "Ruvyn grew eerily silent as he listened to Grace's words, his eyes never leaving hers.\n\nAfter a few moments, the vampire reached up to his head and unclasped the leather straps keeping his mask in place. Pulling it forward, Ruvyn revealed his face to the woman before. It was only something he ever did just before a kill- but Grace would be spared this evening. Before the sorceress stood a boy- barely a man. Perhaps he was turned in his late teens, but this was not the intelligent and articulate man Grace likely expected. There was still traces of baby fat on his cheeks, though barely visible because of his defined and sharp facial features. His eyes remained a terrifying red, but without his mask Grace would see the ruffled dark brown hair now barely trickling down into his face.\n\nRuvyn's eyes remained glued to hers, but there was a solemn look within them. The woman's words had some truth behind them. Ruvyn hated what he was, perhaps more than she hated what she was. \"My life goes on for the sake of another. If not for her, I'd happily take that final step to Infernum. She saved my life, but made me what I am. She is my curse and my savior.\" Ruvyn's voice was quiet, a tinge of fear behind his words but barely noticeable. That once confident demeanor melted slightly, and was replaced with a terrified boy unsure of the world around him. Ruvyn's eyes fell to the grass, staring off as he spoke once more. \"But I wouldn't have it any other way.\"\n\n_ _\nRuvyn darted his eyes upwards once more to meet the woman's. \"I wear my mask so that I don't take the blame for my killings.\" There was more meaning behind Ruvyn's words than just avoiding detection from vampire hunters or the law. If Grace was as smart as Ruvyn assumed she was, he knew she'd know what he meant. \"I also try my best to target individuals who deserve to die. I'd never harm a child or a mother or a knight. The bastards who'd hurt those people however make fine meals.\" Ruvyn clasped his mask to his belt before crossing his arms over his chest. \"Neither of us asked to be this way, that much is clear. But we can learn to live with it or spend our eternal lives hating ourselves and stewing in misery.\"\n\n\"Why not try to make the best of what you have while you have it? After all, you'll outlive most you meet anyways.\" Ruvyn's own words brought on a sense of sadness. The thought of outliving Asriella caused his heart to crack slightly, the desire to rid himself of such a thought increasing." }, { "author": "Caleesi Scarleth \| Grandmistress of Magic", "message": "While the uncomfortable silence began to torture them both, Caleesi stood there, frozen in place. She couldn't make out the vampire's emotions behind his petrifying mask– those beady crimson eyes piercing into her soul an inch deeper with every passing second. Was he displeased with her words? Angry perhaps? Lady Scarleth had half a mind to flee in those moments, but before long, her eyes began to widen as Ruvyn unveiled his face... The act was unexpected, and the contrast between his appearance and the ominous aura he held was startling. Taking in the sight of the boy before her, his red eyes mirrored her own vampiric nature. Caleesi couldn't help but feel a strange mix of emotions—confusion, surprise, a tinge of empathy for the young vampire. \n\n Ruvyn looked just like her, Young. The grandmistress was turned in her new found adulthood, and now holds the baby face of her late teens because of it. While many could pass it off of her good genes as an elegant high elf, it frightened Caleesi to think of excuses when she inevitably outlives her peers... Nevertheless, the male before her likely shared a similar fate as she, and as Ruvyn spoke, the hidden councilwoman listened intently. Her initial fear giving way to a newfound understanding for him, and maybe even vampires themselves alike. \n_ _\n\nShe recognized the pain and conflict in his words, a reflection of her own internal struggle. The revelation that Ruvyn's existence was intertwined with the choices of another, much like hers, resonated deeply within her. Cali's gaze softened as he confessed the complexities of his existence, the internal battle between hatred and acceptance. A shift settled upon the she-elf's face, her pale, moonlit eyes puddled with a lining of tears. Her lips pulled down in a frown that matched her sorry brows. Never in a million years did Caleesi think she'd sympathize with the likes of a monster, in her own mind. But now the shrouded veil was lifting from her stubborn eyes, and there under the night sky, in the middle of the sleeping forest, two souls shined. Reflecting one another perfectly.\n_ _\nWhen Ruvyn spoke about wearing the mask to avoid blame for his killings, the sorceress nodded in understanding. A chill brushed past her neck, almost like a whisper of wind that crawled through her messy blond hair. One way or another, Caleesi could empathize with that simple truth. The weight of their immortality, the burden of the choices they were forced to make, became increasingly evident. Her mind pulled her back into the haunting memory of her turning. The agonizing pain she felt– to feed. That night, Caleesi fought her inhumane urges and instead allowed them to fuel her revenge, killing the vampires that cursed her to a life she did not want. \n\n But, was that a mask she wore? As she tore into their chest, ripping out their hearts with her bare hands. Or was the mask that she and Ryvun shared the one she wears every day? Around her friends, new found family, and most of all... Herself. Perhaps that line became blurred far too long ago.\n_ _\n\nThe suggestion to embrace their existence rather than drown in self-loathing lingered in the air. Caleesi took a moment to absorb Ruvyn's words, her gaze dropping to the ground as she reflected on her own path. The encounter with the dying elven man, breaking of her own vow– it all flashed before her eyes. Rumbling her chest with shame. Despite the guilt, a seed of acceptance started to sprout within her. Ruvyn's words, though from an unexpected source, held a strange comfort. Taking in a deep breath through her nose, Lady Scarleth balled her fist tightly before letting the tension fold away with an open palm.\n_ _\n\"I never thought I'd find understanding in us cursed beings,\" Cali admitted, her voice a mixture of vulnerability and gratitude. \"You speak a truth that i've been avoiding for quite some time, Ruvyn. We're both prisoners of our existence, but perhaps there's a way to find solace in it. I never wanted this life, but maybe... There's a chance to make it bearable.\" Slowly, the high elf met Ruvyn's gaze again, her eyes reflecting a glimmer of hope amidst the turmoil. However, the tone that the vampire held implied a great deal of sadness, and Caleesi would be a fool not to notice. Her head inclined inward, a tipping of the chin much like a concerned friend; although she'd dare not be the first to get close, Caleesi murmured her next words with gentle hesitation. As she knew all too well how sensitive the topic was. \n\n \"What.. Happened to you?\"" }, { "author": "Ruvyn Balfir", "message": "\"Are you asking me how I was turned into a vampire?\"\n\nRuvyn searched Caleesi's eyes for what her question was truly asking. After this, the two would likley never see one another again... So perhaps sharing his tale for the first time with anyone would be okay. Shifting the weight on his feet, the vampire let out a quiet sigh before shrugging. \"To be entirely honest, my tale should be one for a fantasy story. It starts how all tales do- I was a simple farmer's son. I was raised to till the land, impregnate it with crops, and sow the harvest each year. My village was a small one, located in Gantrick.\" Ruvyn's eyes strayed away from Caleesi's. Instead, they looked upwards toward the moon.\n\n\"A monster came. One that destroyed everything and everyone I cared about. I had nearly died, but someone found me.\" There was both sadness and happiness at the mention of this mystery person Ruvyn spoke of. His eyes lit up, but his expression remained saddened. \"I was on the brink of meeting Viviana herself when She Found me. The only way to save me was vampirism- the enhanced healing and immortality eventually brought be back to health, but at the cost of my sanity for a short while.\" Ruvyn's eyes fell from gazing upon the mountain until the rested on Caleesi. Soon, his eyes slowly turned from red to a greyish-blue- the color they were from birth.\n_ _\n\nHe looked more human now, less like a terrifying, masked monster of a man. \"For a while after turning, I was uncontrollable. She couldn't control me without using her magic, and our home became a battlefield- everyone was my enemy, Everyone Was my meal.\" Ruvyn was clearly but slowly getting worked up. Caleesi would hear his heart rate quickening, his breathing as well as it inhaled and exhaled sharply through his nose. \"It took a long time- a lot of solitary confinement to grow used to what I was. Realizing that *I* Was now that monster that destroyed my home- only I was doing it to others.\" Ruvyn's eyes turned red once more, but his gaze averting to the grass. \"Like I said, she was my curse and savior.\"\n\n\"If not for her... I'd likely have died. But now because of her, I wish she had let me.\" There was a faint crack in his throat, one his quickly disguised by returning his mask to his face. He was sinking back into that shell- and after a few moments of silence his voice returned to being calm, his heart rate lowered. \"What about you, if you don't mind me asking.\"" }, { "author": "Caleesi Scarleth \| Grandmistress of Magic", "message": "Ruvyn's voice was like a velvet ribbon, unfurling gently in the thickened air. To a stranger, it sang to her like a familiar lullaby– Soothing and inviting. However, his words carried the pang of a knife, and Caleesi's body tensed ever so slightly as the vampire's story began to unfold. The sprawling forest around them seemed to fade into the background, the rustling leaves and distant cries of wildlife becoming mere whispers as she focused entirely on his reverberating tone. Inclining her head towards him, the high elf's eyes never left Ruvyn's face. Her steel blue hues searching for the lost soul that appeared to be locked away behind vibrant crimson skies. \n\nWhen he spoke of the mysterious savior who had turned him, Caleesi's own memories swarmed to the forefront of her mind. Her jaw stiffened momentarily, gaze dropping to the ground. It was hard — Too hard— battling with unwanted, and haunting recollections. The woods wailed in unison to close in around her, shadows growing darker and more oppressive. A chill ran down the woman's spine at the thought of Luthais– his breath heaving on her neck, ready to sink his teeth in – hastily, Cali wrapped her arms tightly around herself, seeking some semblance of comfort before pushing the thoughts further away.\n\nLady Scarleth noted the way Ruvyn's iris's flickered from red to blue; the shift making him appear more human than the creature attached to the mask. It was heartbreaking. He had seen and felt the horrors of this curse just as she, and by the tale of his upbringing, perhaps the two were truly not so different after all. Biting at her bruised bottom lip, Cali's ears twitched at the mention of sharing her own story. She cut her gaze up from the blood splatters smeared across her pearlescent dress, past the departed corpse just feet away, and straight into the eyes of the man in front of her.\n_ _\n\nSilence swelled in her throat once more, her mind racing. She knew she couldn't reveal the full truth of how she was turned, the pain of her past too raw and personal, but as the depths of her crystal blue gaze searched Ruvyns own, Caleesi felt compelled to offer some sort of understanding in return. Slowly, her hardened stance eased, and her eyes, once guarded, began to reflect a glowing pool of empathy.\n_ _\nThe Grandmistress stood bathed in the ethereal glow of the moon, her long blond hair cascading in waves down her back, catching the silver light with a ghostly shimmer. Her vibrant azure eyes, usually so striking, were softened by the tears that still brimmed at their edges. One final breeze whispered by until the night was still again. And almost unnaturally so. It was as if the forest itself was holding its breath, captivated by the exchange between the two beings. Caleesi could feel the chill of the midnight air as she opened her mouth to speak. But it was a familiar, almost comforting presence. A reminder of the nocturnal existence she now was forced to thrive in.\n_ _\n\"I... Understand the torment of being turned against your will,\" She began, her voice soft yet steady. \"A monster had come for me too... Except this one I knew. And he had company.\" \n_ _\nThere was a long pause as the she-elf's eyes flickered with the ghosts of her past. With the way the woman coddled her arms around her, it didn't take long for him to realize the reality Caleesi was speaking of. Her lips tingled in a quiver while shadows crept their way into her vision. Horrors coming to life inside her mind. \"They took everything from me—my dignity, My humanity. In their cruelty, they turned me into what I am now. I became a vampire, but nothing is worse than being cursed to live with the memory of their atrocities.\"\n_ _\n\nCaleesi's pressed on, even as her gaze was averted from the strangers. Slowly, that sadness in her delicate expression bled into a scowl of pure disgust. Her fingers curling into white knuckled fists as she swallowed handfuls of her dress tightly. \"When I turned, I knew I had become something else. I knew i was no longer the girl i used to me– the woman i spent Desperate Years to become. I was filled with so much rage and hate that night, and in my blind wrath, I sought violence.\" \n\n \"I hunted them down, one by one. Tore their hearts out with my bare hands, feeling a perverse sense of justice in their destruction. But that vengeance didn't bring me peace. It only deepened my torment.\" A broken sigh shuddered from the high elf's lips as she shook her head. It was clear that the actions she carried out as a newly turned vampire were enough to break her altogether, much as it would anyone. Light was vacant from Caleesi's face, her shoulders drooping with shame. \n\n\"I've worn many masks since that night. Around my friends, my family, even around myself. I've tried to find a way to live with what I've become, to make this existence bearable. But it's a constant battle, one that I haven't yet won.\"\n_ _\nShe had never truly said those words aloud, and now that they had left her lips, it was almost as if a chip had been roughly plucked from her shoulders. Swallowing the lump in her throat, the Grandmistress rose her head to meet Ruyvn one final time. Fear no longer lingering in her eyes. \"In the end, we are both victims of circumstance,\" Caleesi admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. \"But perhaps you're right in your view of things. We have to make the most of what we have.\"\n\|\|" }, { "author": "Ruvyn Balfir", "message": "Ruvyn stood silently as Caleesi's words poured out, each one a piece of her fractured soul. His eyes never wavered from her face. The forest around them seemed to push away, giving space to the emotions shared between the two. He could feel the weight of her story, the heavy burden of her past mirroring his own. When she finished, the silence between them was thick, almost tangible. He took a step closer, his presence both comforting and unnerving. His voice, when he finally spoke, was like the whisper, a soft caress against the darkness.\n\n\"You show so much courage in sharing your tale with me. You should be proud of that alone.\" Ruvyn paused, his gaze softening, the red in his eyes flickering to a deep, soulful blue. For the time being, they remained that way. \"I've contemplated going on a rampage to find the mosnter who hurt me in such a way. I wish I could say I've bested my demons the way you have yours- but it seems you almost have remorse for doing so?\" Tilting his head, Ruvyn seemed a bit confused. Why feel sorry for the bastards who hurt her?\n\n_ _\nThe distance between the two had closed, but Ruvyn kept his hands in his pockets. \"The past has a funny way of haunting us, even long after we've done our best to forget. If you let it eat away at you, you are letting those monsters you had slain win in the end, don't you think?\" A moment of silence stretched between them, the forest holding its breath as if honoring their shared suffering. \"In our cursed existence, we find moments of clarity, moments where we can see beyond the darkness. Your courage, your resilience, it speaks to a strength that goes beyond mere survival. It is a testament to the indomitable spirit that lies within you.\"\n\n\"Not to sound sappy, of course.\" Offering a devilish smile to break the thick air that had begun to permeate around the two vampires, it was clear the weight of the conversation had begun to make Ruvyn uncomfortable. Looking for a way to ease that tension, Ruvyn removed his hands from his pockets and began to stretch his arms. \"Would you like me to help you in cleaning up this...\" Pausing, Ruvyn shrugged unsure what to call it. \"Would you like me to help you in any way?\"" } ]	924.5	10,603
376.857143	1776-07-04	GuildPublicThread	[ { "author": "Orion Khavrur", "message": "An hour had passed since the caravan locked its wheels and stopped on the cold mountain pass. The cold wind whistled in the air as it cut against the travelers skin through the bundles of cloth and furs that they adorned themselves with. The snow covered peaks offered little in the way of sanctuary aside from the misfortune of being buried beneath several dozen feet of snow. Naturally, there was little incentive for anyone with a hint of self preservation to halt their travels in a place like this for that long. But when this caravan found that the path forward had been blocked by a wall of timber and snow from an earlier avalanche, most would cut their losses and turn around.\n\nNot The Ferrymen though. \n\nAnd certainly not their leader.\n\n\"Looks like we're making our own path today,\" \n\nOrion announced, his voice a deep rumble with a metallic, artifical twinge, resonating with the authority and calm assurance that had come to define him. Standing at a height of over 7 feet, the half human's goliath blood gave him quite the striking appearance. Orion, once known as The Mountain, was the head of this band of aspiring warriors he's gathered. His towering figure, wrapped in a heavy cloak, stood stark against the drifts of snow, his eyes keenly scanning the path ahead.\n\n```\"Sir, we only have one shovel, that'll take us hours\"```\n\nSpoke the Ferryman named Kaelen. A young man without a coin to his name before Orion found him and brought him into the fold.\n\nOrion chuckled as he made his way to the back of the wagon to grab the shovel in question. His arm bumping against the severed head of the drake they had slain days before and were now traveling back to Gantrick to present it as proof that those beasts won't be ambushing travelers on the border any longer.\n\n\"We're in no rush, Kaelen. Plenty of people other than us use this road, and it could be a death sentence if any of them got stuck up here. Only difference is we can do something about this\"\n\nHe explained giving a nod to another Ferryman, a fellow half human named Mira. Her orcish blood gave her a strong build that was only a foot and a half less than Orion's. She nodded in response as she took up the shovel he handed her as the two made their way to debris that blocked them and got to work. Orion, being the leader deciding to take on the burden of using his hands to clear the road. Even then he seemed to have no problem lifting large logs from the snow and tossing them down the mountain like they were nothing. The Ferrymen could use a rest so he figured they could make themselves comfortable for a bit while the two of them worked.\n\nIt was this kind of thinking though that has always been the mercenary bands greatest weakness. The Ferrymen are a name that very few have heard of. There are no battle hungry warriors lining up to join this band. No wealthy nobles paying a fortune for their services. Aside from Orion, the band made up no more than 4 other members. Altruism, honor, things like that don't belong in a mercenary band worth their salt. Orion knew this from a lifetime in the Gilded Shields. But he didn't care much for the money or glory of it all. It was about doing what's right. To not make the same mistakes he made as a foolish young man. To make sure these young lives who've joined him do the same. And if that means that The Ferrymen forever remain in obscurity so be it.\n\nAnd so the caravan has rested here for the last hour. The two up front clearing the road while the other 3 members sat in the carriage, trying their best to keep themselves warm." }, { "author": "Nargul", "message": "Steady against the winds, a walking stormcloud wandered his way forward over the forlorn path. Gripped tight around his gargantuan frame was a frayed and well-worn greatcloak that blew noisily with every bit of resistance the harsh winds gave him. Every few seconds, one long exhalation came - a vent of evaporate evidence for the figures immense stamina and acclimation to the bitter chill. Looming closer, the figure stalked like an omen towards the blockade of snow and the mercenaries that stood beside it.\n\nThere wasn't an intent to be subtle, but the figure moved deftly enough that it was hard to place footfalls against the cutting gales. As he drew closer, more was apparent about the figure as he seemed to slip through the icy fogs- a phantom colored as a stormy sky, with the fur of beasts resting on his shoulders, and a great blade sheathed over his back, that was nearly as tall as he.\n\nIt was an Orc- it must be. Surely. The body that was implied under the cloak was far too wide for a man, and the height would similarly dwarf them at six feet, nine inches. Gray skin and carefully searching, cunning lupine eyes stared out, marking and tracking the Ferrymen as he drew closer. There wasn't a need to walk into a wasteful fight, so he seemed to assess ahead of time that they weren't bandits in waiting. Still, a hidden hand kept itself close to a dagger's hilt, just in case.\n\nWhen he was no more than a few meters behind, he'd let out a whistle, announcing his presence before lowering his hood. A squint or two came to the thick, stern face he had. A neck corded and as wide as his thigh gripped and shook with the cold, before his eyes and body both adjusted to the change from the warm hood.\n\nAnd so he stood, awaiting their attention, in that moment of tension and anticipation for strangers in a stranger land meeting at path's end." }, { "author": "Orion Khavrur", "message": "One of Orion's lessons he tries to teach his 4 Ferrymen is the value of perception. Of course, there's the obvious interpretation 'That enemy must have a blind spot on his left' or 'I spotted the inn keeper pour something in our drinks out of the corner of my eye'. But that's under the assumption that perception is something you can activate on command. A hidden tool for you to use when the situation calls for it and be done with it when it ends.\n\nWhile that's partly true, it is also in respects to keeping your guard up for long periods of time. If you never let your guard down it'll make you cold, standoffish, and too protective to enjoy life. Orion understood this. But he was hoping that they'd pay attention while they sat vulnerable in one of most isolated places in all of Lucidien. \n\nUnfortunately they did not.\n\nThe heads of Kaelen, and the two other Ferrymen named Ariella and Lysandra, all shot up in unison as a sharp whistle cut through the air as the outline of a huge figure could be seen behind the frozen gale which covered the mountain. The young mercenaries hurried out of the carriage as they collected blades, spears, arrows and whatever else the needed from the carriage before forming a small defensive line in front of the wagon.\n\n```\"Captain! Someone's here!\"```\n\nKaelen shouted, turning to find that the goliath was already standing behind the three of them by the time they formed their line.\n\n\"Blades down. If he wanted to run you down he'd do it when you had your back turned.\"\n\nThe Grey Mountain of Gantrick stepped past his mercenaries who stepped behind him in response.\n\n\"Bandits wouldn't dream of going through the fuss of robbing in this cold, even then they wouldn't give up the element of surprise unless they're looking for a fight\"\n\nThe captain explained taking one more step forward, putting a few feet of distance between him and the new arrival, as well as giving himself a fair bit of distance from his crew. Perhaps this was a traveler. Perhaps this was a bladesmen looking for battle with whoever he could find. Perhaps a necromancer in search of more bodies. Orion's seen it all, and aired on the side of caution until he had a reason to keep calm.\n\n\"I hope that's not what you're after, I've been walking before the sun rose today and I'm plenty tired already.\"" }, { "author": "Nargul", "message": "Perception and insight. Vision without and within. The Orc leveled it on each of the members of this small troop as he stood in place, the whistle lasting and lashing through the winding mountains, before it became one with the howling wind, lost as an echo. The Orc's sword remained sheathed as they turned, and not a step forward or back did he take as they formed a line. No need for a misunderstanding. It had been a long day, and Lohmar should return soon with quarry.\n\nAs Orion stood and moved past, the Orc took in what he could sense of the figure's leadership among the others. The respect was evident. They trusted his word and didn't overreact. He nodded- taking a favorable view already with a near-silent grunt and an even more subtle nod.\n\n\"Bandits wouldn't have waited to shoot, either.\" He says in mutual acknowledgement, walking forward. His hands leave his cloak, coming up to either side, opening and closing to show they were empty and remained so as the two would soon stand only a few feet apart.\n\nNargul trailed his eyes to the blockade, jaw clenching once, then twice, under his steely and scratchy complexion. This one's seen many battles. But, he looks back to Orion.\n\n\"I'm looking for passage to the East. You have an extra shovel?\" He says. Intentions clear as water. Help for help." }, { "author": "Orion Khavrur", "message": "The sound of the cold air whistling through the mountains was the only sound aside from the silence that followed the offer. The two giants standing before one another, strangers in a place that would care little if blood were spilt. Fortunately, it need not flow. Nor shall it, so long as Orion has a say in it.\n\n\"Mira!\"\n\nHe called out, the half orc ceasing her dig and standing behind Orion, snow covered spade in hand.\n\n```\"Sir?\"```\n\nThe giant looked the stranger up and down one more time as best he could through the shroud of snow between them. Assessing a potential threat? An opprotunity for loot? No. Simply an inspection of his build. And the mountain was impressed.\n\n\"Hand me that shovel and head back to the carriage. Kick your feet up but don't let your guard down. Keep them in line as best you can.\"\n\nHe instructed. Mira wordlessly nodding and passing the tool into the hands of the half human before doing as she was told without issue.\n\n\"Only have one, but I hope this'll do you right\"\n\nThe captain of the Ferrymen now finally closing the distance as he stepped before the Orc and presented the frost covered shovel to him.\n\n\"Orion Khavrur's the name, captain of The Ferrymen. Mercenary group on our way back home. Glad to see a friendly face this far up north\"" }, { "author": "Nargul", "message": "The blade on Nargul's back had an eminence of restrained violence about it. Though sheathed, the thing was clearly a tool of war. But- it remained sheathed, and the Orc made no motion towards it. There was no need here, in this place. Though, once it seemed peace was attained, he glanced off to the side- dark eyes seemed to become yellowish and lupine for a moment, before a different sounding whistle hurtled its way through the tumbling winds down the path." }, { "author": "Lohmar", "message": "Soon after, emerging up onto the path from its flank, was a massive Dire Wolf. Comparable in mass to Nargul himself, though longer and leaner, the interestingly mottled fur had a pattern of oranges- ochre, auburn, and amber- as well as stripes of charcoal, black, and white that seemed to culminate in a small mane of sorts. The sort meant to protect the wolf's neck. The thing itself was similarly strong in stature to Nargul, and clasped in its jaws was the neck of a sizable grazer- something akin to an elk. But, dead it was, being dragged to them.\n\nIt made brief, sharp looks at each of the Ferrymen, having some sort of animalistic cunning as it carried its quarry closer- but not too close- to the cart before Nargul clicked his tongue. Lohmar dropped it, before walking over and standing besides the Orc." }, { "author": "Nargul", "message": "He gives a little chuff- out of humor for the situation. Wasn't he being generous today? \n\n\"Dinner, as well. Any of yours good cooks? I hope we can call it even between that and the extra pair of hands for a ride to the east end of this country.\"\n\nHe otherwise waited in place, a calloused hand aiming to reach out and grasp the icy thing, turning it over once and twice as he gave a grunt. A bit small for his hands, but he could make it work.\n\n\"Nargul.\" The Orc replied, in the manner of names. There was a brief gap, as if considering what else to add, as he walked closer to the mess he intended to clear. \"Where's home, for you? I don't have one, now.\"" }, { "author": "Orion Khavrur", "message": "The eyes of Orion panned from Nargul to the creature who had come trotting up behind the Orc. A tinge of alarm shot through the giant for a half second as he made out the silhouette of something that confused him. An animal of some kind, with 4 legs, but it also had more as well as a fair amount of mass dragging across the ground. It didn't take long for him to finally recognize what he was looking at as he looked down at the hound who had presented the corpse of an elk of some variety before the two of them. \n\n\"All Mother's braids...\"\n\nHe muttered examining the size of the creature. A formidable beast, but also an excellent hunter as well. Orion had packed rations for the journey with the full intention of using all of them as hunting up in these mountains would be near impossible. But here was this wolf who out hunted the entirety of the Ferrymen and their captain. He couldn't help but wonder what kind of man he was before that could train a creature as intelligent and powerful as that. If anything he was just glad they weren't at odds.\n\nThe captain smirked as he tilted his head high at the question.\n\n\"Don't mean to brag but I know how to make a real mean venison stew. I'll make you a bowl when we get out of this blizzard.\"\n\nHe offered as he knelt down and took hold of the elks legs. In one motion the carcass was already off the ground and resting right on Orion's shoulder as he used his free hand to gesture for Nargul to follow him to the dig site. The goliath handling it as though it were light as air.\n\n\"Coin's as good a prize as any but you've earned plenty of praise from all us here by gifting us a full stomach at the end of all this\"\n\nThe captain stepped to the side of the wagon they had been using, his Ferrymen sitting inside underneath the cloth which billowed and shook from the winds. The only thing keeping it covering the occupants would be the rope tied to all four corners and wrapped around the wagon itself. It was these ropes that Orion took hold of, a little bit of extra slack allowing him to tie some knots. Tying the elk to the side of the carriage rather than forcing someone outside to make room. Hopefully the cold would help preserve it when they moved to warmer climates and were ready to feast.\n\nHis head craned to look over his shoulder to catch a glimpse of Nargul as Orion began the process of tossing snow and timber out of the way with his hands.\n\n\"Wish I could tell you homes wherever I make it or something like that. Don't have much time for it but me and the crew have the chance to rest up at my home town. It's called Erbaron village, a bit remote. Only thing big about it though is the people\"\n\nHe joked gesturing to himself, indulging in a chuckle at his own pun.\n\n\"What's a guy like you doing all the way up here with your pup? They're safer ways to get into Gantrick, you know. Might make the journey a few weeks longer but you don't hit frost til you're a few days from civilization\"" }, { "author": "Lohmar", "message": "The dire wolf gazed back, for a moment. Eyes, starkly yellow, pierced through the snow like two motes of molten gold. Perhaps most interestingly, besides the size of him, was the amulet around his neck - it wasn't something so trite as a tag, but instead appeared as an interpretational statue of Anthron, carved from wood and marked with two dents from a pair of fangs, as if the wolf's own signature. It was-... Doubtful a wolf of all things had such conceptions, but who knew. The world was strange, and full of stranger company for the traveler.\n\nThe elk Lohmar had slain seemed as if it went through little pain. Orion could feel, at his heft, that three of the things vertebrae were crushed utterly under the force of the bite, and only one row of distinct puncture marks on the top of the neck could be seen. It likely was dead before it had much time to choke or suffer. But- Lohmar whaps his tail once against the snow before standing and following Nargul once the latter moved, some charming sign of contentment at his work." }, { "author": "Nargul", "message": "\"His name is Lohmar. It means 'Heart,' in my tongue.\" He says with a small nod. \"A close friend in these lands, and for the rest of our days, I think.\"\n\nNargul's one hand came up to swipe a fistful of soft snow off of his jaw, collecting from the sin of standing still in the sinister cold of this place. Nargul had a task put in front of him, and that much could suffice him peace of mind for another few hours. Though, the crew he caught by coincidence himself into seemed the sort to carry a considerable cache of tales. He nodded to himself; that'd do well for his mind, for the night.\n\nHe listened along to the Ferryman's words about the meal, and kept it in mind. He took matters of food more seriously than most things- and his body seemed a temple to that idea, itself. But, to the comment about coin, Nargul spoke once more when there was quiet for a moment.\n\n\"Coin poisons the mind. I keep little past what I spend on supplies.\"\n\nThe Orc was genuine in his offer- as the back which seemed eerily large, like a pair of tower shields held adjacent, flexed and stirred with each shift of the great cloak- freeing itself of the short snow burial it suffered each time Nargul stood still. Now, the constant motion was like a machine of architecture and construction, great loads of ice, stone, and wood being ripped out of the pile and off of the path, tumbling down, and down, until it came to a sullen and silent crash in the icy pits far below them.\n\n\"Mmh.\" He gives a small snort at the mention of Erbaron. He evidently didn't care for something about it- but kept it to himself for the time being. Otherwise, as the conversation continued, Nargul did- in a slow but casual pace, in a Common that was functional but still gaining ground against his Orcish accent.\n\n\"There's much I must see of this and other lands before I return to Dasvaz. I do not fear the wilds. The beasts know peace in purpose and instinct, and that is enough for our understanding.\" He lets fly a small restrained chuckle from his chest. A deep, reverberating thing, like rolling thunder from the far side of mountains.\n\n\"Besides that, I am cultivating strength.\"" }, { "author": "Orion Khavrur", "message": "Orion looked over his shoulder to catch a glimpse as the lupine companion that Nargul had brought with him. Still fascinated at the beast which now sat not more than a few feet away from him now as the two men got to work. He'd certainly noticed the efficiency in the corpse as he hung it. The half-human was born in the land of ice and snow. It was rare he worried about food as much as those further up north did during his younger years, but hunting for game was a vital skill for one living in Erbaron. One must earn their keep. Even if food is plentiful, a goliath who does not have the strength to carry their weight, half-blood or otherwise, is a burden. \n\nBut in all the carcasses he carried back he couldn't help but be surprised with how much blood was left in the elk. Not full to bursting, Orion could see the trail that Lohmar left on his way here. But it certainly didn't bleed out. It was as though the strike was so decisive and the bite so powerful that it simply died of shock in the same manner one might upon losing a limb. \n\nHis idle thoughts would be interrupted by Nargul who spoke of coin. \n\n```\"Coin poisons the mind. I keep little past what I spend on supplies.\"```\n\nA sentiment that the captain would have likely taken a swing at Nargul had he been 20 years younger. The arrogant fool who served in the Gilded Shields who believed his strength meant him and his company could do whatever they wished so long as the coin was worth it. The bright amber eyes obscured by the blizzard and smoke colored skin which he hid under the furs he wore a testament to the punishment he endured for such hubris. \n\nStill, the captain simply smiled and let out a short laugh at that statement.\n\n\"Maybe you've gotta point, Nargul, but I'm only happy having little gold to my name if it means I can wear a cloak with less holes in it\"\n\nHe joked, brushing off the bad memories which lurked back into his mind back down where he had laid them to rest. The monotony of clearing the road would\n\nServe as an excellent activity to keep his mind clear and focused.\n\nOrion's hands would strike against an object beneath the snow as he attempted to brush his latest pile off the ledge. A quick brush would reveal a large stone underneath, about the size of Lohmar and a good few hundred pounds heavier. Orion knelt down as he felt the stone and discovered this, clearly one which would take an entire group of strong lifters to clear.\n\n```\"Besides that, I am cultivating strength\"```\n\nThe captain paused for a moment as he considered Nargul's words. Maybe younger Orion was, at the very least, partially correct in his arrogance. That strength meant he could do what he wanted. Older, Orion now knows that one who acts must also be ready for whatever consequences that follow. But for now, the old man wished to use his strength to clear the road for travelers.\n\nIn one heft the stone rested in both of his palms as he foot slammed into the ground as the kinetic energy flowed into him. When he was able to withstand the force against him he hurled the stone down the ledge as it crashed into the earth with a loud snap before rolling further and further out of sight.\n\nOrion rested his hands on his knees as he caught his breath. While nowhere near being old enough to be considered infirm he didn't have the same stamina he did when he was younger. The cold air cut as it reached his lungs chilled his throat.\n\nAfter a few moments, he turned his attention back to Nargul, a victorious grin visible from beneath his cloak.\n\n\"Strength... Is never a bad thing to get a hold of, friend. Only mistake you can make is what you decide to do with it, you know?\"" }, { "author": "Lohmar", "message": "In its own way, the dire wolf made itself of use. It took to a circling patrol, constantly turning its head in a looming, craning cant to attune its senses to the winds and snow and those things that may and well try to hide among them. He appeared to be a dutiful beast, and with turns here and there, Orion and the others might see the scars that the beast bears. Small patches of fur on his left side were split by icy winds, revealing a misshapen bald patch that looks as if he had grown to stretch out a massive bite scar. Something-... Ursine.\n\nOne ear swiveled, and then the other, as he kept to his task well for the time being. Every few minutes, he seemed to look for Nargul's eyes, and the pair of them met, as if communicating without words. Perhaps they were- and if Orion looked closely, the Orc's eyes were just as yellow in those brief moments." }, { "author": "Nargul", "message": "As he took the shovel to pierce through deep ice, driving deep those fissures which released bound stones and boulders, the Orc at times turned over his shoulder to glance at the Goliath- especially when he heard the latter laugh. Returning it after a sober moment of quiet, Nargul's low rumble of a chuckle came out again.\n\n``` \"Maybe you've gotta point, Nargul, but I'm only happy having little gold to my name if it means I can wear a cloak with less holes in it\" ```\n\n\"Yes. That's good, then. Coin should be used, as any other tool.\" He gives another snort. Another little revelation into his simple and functional view of things. It wasn't a gain in itself, just a means to something of more worth to the Orc. Supplies, materials, trade; and by his tone, he refused to let it be more.\n\nNargul watched the stone flow over the edge that Orion had released, not ignorant of the thing's size. With a small nod, and more minded to conserving his energy, he used the lever of the shovel to tip another massive stone enough to get it rolling- momentum and gravity returned it to the earth, thereafter.\n\n``` \"Strength... Is never a bad thing to get a hold of, friend. Only mistake you can make is what you decide to do with it, you know?\" ```\n\n\"Do you know the difference between strength and power?\" He asks, eyes leveling into a half-lidded, contemplative look. A curious question, as the Orc nods to Orion again, encouraging his answer. Maybe they could speak of philosophy over work and dinner - certainly an oddity for two men that could simply crush skulls with their hands, instead. Perhaps it was welcome, though. Or not - Nargul was eager to see which.\n\nNargul, as they work away, seems to be cleaving a wedge through the snow, packed ice, and trapped timber and stones, tilted towards the drop onto the far and fogged depths below where so many stones have been sent to their doom already. Efficiency seemed to be his goal, as much of the work was accomplished by gravity imposing itself on the unstable heights at the far side of the flank." }, { "author": "Orion Khavrur", "message": "The two giants had been to work at clearing the blockade for the matter of little over 10 minutes. Their discussion slow, long pauses between each word when they found the time to turn their attention away from driving away snow and timber to speak. But with the work of Orion and the Ferrymen an hour before, about half of the way had been cleared. But now in a fraction of that time it seemed that they had succeeded in nearly completing their task with the last of the remnants of the avalanche now tumbling down the edge into the frozen dark below.\n\nThe captain of The Ferrymen stood over the cliff edge, looking out at all that he could see from the mountain high. At the very least, what wasn't obscured by the blinding frost that was this cruel blizzard. He'd be greeted with even more mountains that lined the border of Gantrick. Its greatest defense from invaders and what kept it isolated for so many years. Orion was one of the few who were able to look past the peaks to see beyond. The whole world and its people. The sights. The fights. The rights and wrongs that he's done. He couldn't help but feel a small tinge of sentimentality at it all as he caught his breath.\n\nNargul proved himself invaluable clearing the road. Possessing strength that rivaled that of the famed Mountain of Gantrick himself. Perhaps even exceeding that strength, even in his younger years. His ears perked at the question that the Orc had for the old man.\n\n```\"Do you know the difference between strength and power?\"```\n\nA fascinating inquiry that left Orion to ponder. In truth, he hadn't considered the two to be different. At least, in his case they were both synonymous. One complimenting the other, making them inseparable. What could Nargul mean?\n\n\"Hmm... I'm going to hazard a guess and say the strength you mean is physical, like ours. Strength can give way to power, but some people have power without strength. Like the lords of Alynthi, Findara and Gantrick. They've had power since they were born, the kind you don't need strength to claim. Unless your King Archaius, of course. Man can turn into a bear whenever he wants so I'd say he's born with strength as well as power in his case.\"" }, { "author": "Nargul", "message": "Work was welcome,.If weary, to the Orc, who had long wondered in the cold to reach this road and now saw it as another way to keep his hands warm and his back pliable. He was dutiful, taking his offer as seriously as if he had made a debt, and when the path was cleared, Nargul would return to Orion's side, curious as to his staring and contemplation.\n\nNargul himself saw a portion of what he sought here - a piece of the answers he yearns for when he returns to Dasvaz. The land here was harsh and unforgiving, but life thrived all the same. The mountains were fangs and spears that well-warded this land from outsiders, but also kept insiders wary and worn. Ever forced to be strong. There was an appreciation Nargul felt in that, before the Orc looked back at his new traveling companion.\n\nNargul's strange stare as Orion spike of strength imposed the impression that the Orc had asked many others this question before, and was evaluating in quiet. When the Goliath had finished, Nargul responded in turn.\n\n\"Strength is something cultivated, Power is something gained.\" He grunts. \n\n\"You are near how I feel. I have seen those with the power of rule, without the strength to make anything of it. Strength comes from struggle, and I wonder how the kings and lords of these lands are. Perhaps they have great strength, perhaps they lack it.\"\n\nHe scoffs at the idea of the transformed bear.\n\n\"There's bears in the woods north. I saw no crowns among those I hunted.\" A metaphor layered in sardonic sneer, the Orc seemed contemptuous of the idea of physical power along being the means to strength and rule. Odd, given his home- odder still, given his massive frame and evident force of body.\n\nHe turned his head aside to the caravan, where Lohmar stalked quietly about, bounding and bordering it as his territory.\n\n\"We can continue this, or you can tell me a story of you and your allies, there. I will share mine, too.\"" }, { "author": "Orion Khavrur", "message": "It surprised Orion, the company that he now had. Granted, that very company surprised him on many occasions. The hound at his side, the speed at which he cleared the road, the way he spoke of from where he hailed. But what surprised the captain the most was the wisdom in what the traveler had to share. Granted, Orion had to uphold the image of the wise elder for the Ferrymen's sake. The oldest among them aside from himself was barely over 20 years. But this vagabond Orc, this wandering warrior, he had to admit he was experienced in ways that Orion just wasn't. He couldn't help but respect that. Simply wishing he was that wise in his younger years.\n\nHe chuckled and shrugged upon Nargul's explanation. A hearty laugh at the mention of the crownless bears he's seen.\n\n\"Hey I got pretty close with that one\"\n\nHe mused, shaking his head as he made his way back to the caravan.\n\n\"Roads clear! We're moving!\"\n\nHe called out as the young mercenaries in the carriage all made their way out dressed in their furs and cloaks. Clearly disappointed that their respite from the cold is finally over. Hopefully those frowns would soon fade when they were out of this mountain and over a warm fire. Maybe listening to Nargul's adventures, learn something too if he were fortunate.\n\nWith that the wheels of the carriage began to spin again as the Ferrymen took point, protecting all sides from potential ambush. They took to this lesson pretty quickly during the first few months he had this full crew. It's hard to forget your first ambush after all.\n\nAt the front would normally be Orion, he was the captain after all. But with a gesture he seemed to welcome Nargul to join him as they traveled. There was something about this gruff son of Dasvas that had the mercenary intrigued.\n\n\"Is that what you meant earlier? When you said you were cultivating strength? You want to head back home when the time comes deserving of the responsibility that'll be weighing on your shoulders. So you're cultivating strength to bare it.\"\n\nOrion questioned, resting both hands into the pockets of his cloak as his boot crushed bits of lumber and ice beneath his feet.\n\n\"Sorry to pry, but you seem pretty strong in the traditional and metaphorical way, you know. How much more strength do you need?\"" }, { "author": "Nargul", "message": "There was another small smile from the Orc, an admission of shared human and an appreciation for the Goliath's attitude as they turned back towards the caravan itself and trudged through still-packed sloughs of stone-laden slush.\n\n``` \"Hey I got pretty close with that one.\" ```\n\n\"You did, and you know well enough to laugh at your own thoughts. I try to - wish more did. Mmh-...\" He lets out another snort, flaring his nostrils seemingly just to breath two fogging fumes of hot air down his lips and neck.\n\n\"I've got a sling and a bag of stones, if you hear anything I don't.\" He says, simply enough. When he briefly withdraws the leather strands, the horror of realizing the stones he could launch would be the size of a human fist, and likely faster than an arrow, came to mind before he put it away.\n\nNargul felt some relief. Company put some easy into rocky roads. As he looks around at each of the Ferrymen, he took the time to individually introduce himself as a matter of courtesy, getting a feel for their voice and face in the case something went wrong, so he could differentiate between them and a foe in the howling wind.\n\nBut, Orion caught Nargul's attention well and fully with his next words, as they stood side by side at the front.\n\n``` \"Is that what you meant earlier? When you said you were cultivating strength? You want to head back home when the time comes deserving of the responsibility that'll be weighing on your shoulders. So you're cultivating strength to bare it.\" ```\n\n\"You're right. But, I'm not chief. There's no crown in Dasvaz that's not slick with blood.\" He grimaces, a flash of memories like firecrackers against the front of his mind, before he seemed to return to the fore. \"There's a sickness in my home - you know well of Dasvaz's trades, their wars. I want nothing more than to one day teach strength by another way- a superior way. One where my people prosper.\" He gives a long exhalation, tilting his head here and there." }, { "author": "Lohmar", "message": "Just then, Lohmar seems to perk his head sharply up at mountains along the right side of the pass, his lips curling back as the ridge-like mane he had bristles. But- whatever it was, it seemed to pass, leaving only a too-large and too-looming shadow to linger like a serpent of shadow between the crevices and cracks brought by winter's ruin.\n\nStill bared, licking his chops intermittently, he trots himself between the lead two, looking between them and pointing his nose to where he was focused. Nothing- now. Or at least nothing they could see." }, { "author": "Nargul", "message": "Taking the words into consideration, he withdraws a fist-sized stone, his sling, and kept the finger-and-a-half he had left on the outside of his left hand at the ready with a tightly held dagger, drawn in eerie silence from his hilt.\n\n``` \"Sorry to pry, but you seem pretty strong in the traditional and metaphorical way, you know. How much more strength do you need?\" ```\n\n\"Let's speak on it once we've passed this valley-... Lohmar never misreads a threat.\" He says, a whisper low like the promise of a storm in his deep, chest-spoken voice. He considers a moment, then nods.\n\n\"What are each of your strengths-? We may need to be allies in battle, Lohmar isn't settling.\" His face contorts into a snarl mediated by focus, not overreacting, just waiting and planning." }, { "author": "Orion Khavrur", "message": "Orion's attention would be brought away from the matters of philosophy and strength when Lohmar began to show signs of alert. While not too accustomed to animals, Orion knew of when one spotted something. The hunting hounds of Gantrick always had better sense then him. Even if it was in a dire wolf, Orion knew full well what that meant. They might have a fight on their hands soon.\n\nReaching into his fur coat, the captain began searching around for a weapon he'd be able to use. His fingers would soon touch the familiar feeling of cold metal and he'd begin arming himself. It wasn't long until his arm would make its way out from beneath his cloak again, only now to be adorned in a weapon most exotic.\n\nA gauntlet of some kind, one reaching all the way up to his wrist with a red colored blade several feet in length extending from his forearm. \n\n\"Could be sizing us up, seeing if we're worth it.\"\n\nThe captain stated, his eyes scanning around the mountains, trying to spot anything past the wall of snow which blew past him.\n\n\"But if it sees all of us and thinks it might have a chance we should be ready for the worst. Can't think of a worse spot to be ambushed at, we're stuck between stone and a 500 foot drop.\"\n\nThe Mountain of Gantrick looked back to his crew of young mercenaries. All of them had themselves armed, looking out for danger that may be lurking around them. Yet unaware of what Lohmar had spotted. With a quick whistle from Orion their attention shot up, clutching their weapons tighter and drawing themselves into a tighter formation. For that whistle is one they've heard before. The captain spotted something following them. But they had no idea what.\n\nOrion turned his attention back to Nargul, watching him arm himself with a simple sling and stones. A surprisingly simple weapon in a world of blades and magic. But with how he carried himself if he told Orion he could knock an ancient dragon out of the sky with one of those stones he might believe it.\n\n\"Ferrymen are still pretty green but they work pretty well together\"\n\nHe began. If whatever was stalking them hadn't struck now there might still be enough time to come up with a plan.\n\n\"The kid who had you at blade point earlier is Kaelen. Picked him up off the streets after he tried to steal my coin purse. Only noticed him because I could hear his blade come out of its sheath to cut the string. Kids fast, but restless too. Depending on what we're up against I might have to reign him in.\n\nMira's the gal who was helping me clear the road earlier. Used to work as a miner in her village before it went under. Works a greataxe pretty well. Quiet and really the most disciplined of 'em.\n\nAriella's our archer. Glad I got her before she joined the guild, wanted to go solo and see the world, fighting monsters because she was the best shot in her town. I mean, she's still a damn fine shot, but before joining us she fell a boar and thought that meant she could take on the world. Time on the road humbled her a bit but I've got no problem keeping her in line.\n\nLysandra's our youngest and newest. Took a while to find a mage willing to choose us over the guild but when we got hired by her father to bring back a group of theives stole from a Findarian noble, she wanted to join up. Family wasn't too happy, planned on her joining the Mage Hands and living a cushy life on a pile of gold. But I could tell if it wasn't us it would be someone else so I try to do her right. Specializes in evocation but isn't too bad in other schools. Still trying to put some bravery in her, just hope whatever's out there doesn't go after her first\"" }, { "author": "Lohmar", "message": "The wolf's heart knew fear as an old friend, one that fastened him with courage to face foes. It was not an enemy, even as the pain-prickles of his flesh stung and stood his hair at end, mixing with the chill of this barren everwinter. He kept his senses sharped, letting that fear-hate hone them instead of dulling them, as they once did when he was a pup. Once and no more.\n\nEyes traced here and there, following scent trails and sight lines of shifting shadows. Lohmar knew well what this thing was in his bestial ways. A haunting thing, a nightmare. The strange man-words had names for it, but they did not understand it as beasts did. That pressure of something that would kill the mind. He knew it was hunting - and that he and Nargul were prey, with the others.\n\nLohmar would not abandon any that Nargul stood besides. A new pack was gained this day, even if they were gone the next. And so with that, he chuffed, taking in deep the scent of skin, sweat, and blood of new companions, so that he knew them as well as he would his own kin, as he kept on watch, speaking his instincts into the mind of his companion." }, { "author": "Nargul", "message": "The pass, as they continued at a crawling pace, seemed to reveal to them some of its strange secrets. Disshevled and displaced stones of graves that once lined the path were scattered, ruins crushed and stomed in small craters that spoke well of a beast or something worse stalking these lands in a rampage. Whatever it was, it left much to imagine over- as gouges from the very cliffs and stony path told of a sprinting pace past the avalanche. Which now, more and more, seemed to possibly have been something intentional rather than incidental. Far in the distant, past the snow-haze of fogged and frigid winds full of snow flurries, was the outline of a massive cavern entrance. It was a dance of ice and strangely etched stone at its surface, the refractions of the blueish freeze shifting the symbols into something illegible and almost arcane.\n\nAll at once, there's a sense of despair from the sight of it, as if they caught the glimpse of something... Abyssal. Whatever the sensation was, their tight formation was so far unfettered except by the harsh conditions and whatever lurked in their hearts, stinging away at courage and stability of the mind.\n\nNargul followed each and every word carefully of his new companions, taking glances at each, making sure to put in his mind their names and what roles they could play. Many thoughts came, that he had to funnel into only a few. A deep breath out of him seemed sticky with a grim ichor of anticipation and worry that would kill his mind if he didn't master himself here. Eyes shut for a moment, he narrowed in his inner focus the potential places for attack, after looking at their surroundings.\n\nThen, he realized something dire. They were slowly trudging uphill. To one flank was death by height, to another was death by positioning against a wall. They were pinned by something unseen.\n\n\"Understood.\" He snarls, quietly and low, the thunder rumbling. A storm was coming. \"We are walking into a trap.\"" }, { "author": "Orion Khavrur", "message": "Orion's eyes scanned the graves they passed as they continued along with a look of scrutiny. It was certainly an odd place to lay a body to rest. Up here on this lifeless mountain, the only company being the unending fall of snow. Let alone with the ground being made up of frozen stone it would take something incredibly strong to even dig a hole deep enough for the average humanoid. Even deeper if there were Goliath corpses. Something wasn't right about this mountain. Something was very wrong.\n\nThe alarm of Lohmar would bring the half-goliath out of his inquisitive stupor as he looked further up the path. His old eyes able to make out the outline of a cavern. One who's existence surprised him even more than the graves. Regardless of how it got there perhaps it could serve as an adequate shelter for the caravan, a place to wait out the storm, or at the very least get a decent fire going to have a meal.\n\nNargul didn't share the captain's optimism though. He could hear the growl of his words, see his grip on his sling tighten. Looking back at his crew he could already see the growing worry which seemed to take hold of them. The young mercenaries stepping closer to the wagon, even the horse covered in furs seemed to buck and cry out every now and again, slowing their progress down to a near standstill.\n\nA sharp exhale of frosted air blew out as his own pace began to slow hearing the sound in the distance. \n\n\"Take point...\"\n\nHe grimly told the Orc before turning around and quickly marched back to his crew.\n\n\"Double time! We're moving! Everyone up front! Go go go!\"\n\nThe Mountain of Gantrick bellowed out as the Ferrymen quickly rushed past him at a quickened pace. Orion himself took the rear, the wagon struggling to make it uphill, using his great strength he placed both his hands on its side and began to push with all his strength. There was no time to slow down, if they stayed on this path for too long they'd be dead by whatever had been following them all this way." }, { "author": "Nargul", "message": "A strange pass- perhaps in silence and stillness the spirits had a semblance of peace. No longer, scattered as their ruins were- smote on the mountain's edge. The snow soon buried what was left, an indignant end for the fallen. The mountain itself then seemed to breathe - a sound so chilling and unearthly that it'd prickle the flesh of even the vanguards' necks, piercing bone.\n\nThis place was haunted- by what, they had yet to see. Lohmar alone seemed to have spotted it, out of nothing more than a beast's natural intuition to survive, unfettered by language or languid idleness. A sudden and cunning instinct, which now was prickling the wolf's mane up to its fullest fury. Around the cadre that gathered here, trudging through snow, ice, and stone, the shadows seemed to shift and stir. Little by little, each of the Ferrymen and their new companions would see the darkness pulse, as if gathering itself- or perhaps gaining a life all its own. And it seemed to have its heart in that forlorn cavern ahead, pockmarked by shattered stones left by something far too large for this pass.\n\nSomething that soon stirred. Nargul took point with the Mountain, sling singing in his hand as he held it ready at a lower speed. His tusks were already beginning to cap with ice, much as he and the rest would soon find the deathly rime sharp and painful, like small blades. Even the weather seemed affected here by whatever malice twisted this mountain pass.\n\nAnd then, they heard it.\n\nA terrible, gnashing, gnarly sound that beat against the wind, almost seeming to chase them away for its ugliness. It wasn't a dignified roar, but rather the mutilated call of a maddened beast- something beyond reason. Louder and louder it grew, the echoes giving it more and more piercing deathrattles each time they think it'd end. At the peak of the pass, charging for them, was a Chorg, with shadow-stained eyes and scars from a hundred battles in mottled black fur that stank of dried blood.\n\n—\n\nThe ground began to rattle - each of its beating fists and hooves carving new gouges into the path. There was no escape adjacent to it - and it was only gaining speed. One of its left side horns appeared cracked and constantly dripped an inky, greyish ichor. Four horns in total, now leveled with them as it stared with hateful eyes. Each horn was the size of a lance, the head as tall as Nargul's torso, and each fist could easily hold one of them aloft and throw them as a rag.\n\nThey had mere moments to react, before the surging beast would be on them. It had no clear course, and seemed content to maul them all to death with one charge - its horn span enough to annhilate the wagon and bury the Ferrymen under it to be smeared across the stones as a crimson streak against the stark white." }, { "author": "Orion Khavrur", "message": "The dread which gripped the caravan soon found a way to worm itself into the heart of Orion as he felt the whole mountain begin to shake. A rare look of dread could be seen as the half-goliath peered over to see what the of this noise could be. The scent of blood in the air which finally worked its way over to the 7 who had been traveling down the road was intense. Enough to belong to an entire humanoid and a half. Kaelen doubled over to wretch at the stench that overwhelmed them. And by the time he saw those four tusks following that deranged roar he knew exactly what kind of mess they all found themselves in. He's seen the aftermath of a Chorge stampede. The destruction it leaves behind. He's seen one tear through homes one after another in his village as a young boy. The scent of copper and stamped ashes was as fresh in his mind that day as it is now. \n\n\"Shit...\"\n\nThe captain rounded the caravan, stepping toward where he was before he thought uphill was the best way forward. \n\n\"Mira! Get this wagon downhill, now! Lysandra, you're with me! The rest of you go!\"\n\nHe called out, the half-orc not even taking to time to nod in acceptance before she began spinning the wagon slowly through the snow much to the dismay of the steed which had been pulling it. The young mage, Lysandra, sheepishly ran up to where Orion was standing. The panic visible beneath all the furs she wore for warmth. \n\n```\"Y-Yes captain?\"```\n\nOrion gestured in front of him.\n\n\"Fire, right here. We've got no hope of avoiding this thing, best choice we have now is to scare it like a charging bear.\"\n\nHe grimly informed. The young mages eyes widened at this plan, her heart pounding against her chest as the beast drew closer. There was no time to question there were mere moments left before they were flattened. Her trembling hands would extend as a small wall of fire, the flames reaching no higher than a foot and a half in height.\n\n\"Alright, you did good, now go!\"\n\nLysandra struggled to keep her balance as she sprinted back to the caravan which was beginning to rapidly descend downhill. The Chorg drew closer, it wouldn't be long before it was upon them.\n\n\"Not even sure this'll stop it, but if it goes well it'll buy them enough time to get out of here\"\n\nHe muttered, the blade of his weapon extending into a whiplike shape as it unfurled on the ground before him.\n\n\"Don't plan on dying here, but if I do can I count on you to make sure they get out of this mess? They're good kids, they don't deserve this\"\n\nHe asks Nargul if he hasn't already began to retreat with the rest of the Ferrymen." }, { "author": "Nargul", "message": "Fell echoes from rattled, broken stones fill the air - deafening then even to the howling winds. Each stride of the Chorg seemed only to hasten it, faster and faster it came, it's four lances primed to pierce them as easily as a blade through broth once it cleared the distance. The source of the scent became clear - the rancor of rot surrounded the Chorg, which had messy smears of tar-black blood sticking thick and sloppily to its matted fur. It was maddened, likely having killed anything that passed this way, and now it was coming for them.\n\nNargul's body swung about, heaving a heavy shoulder into the wagon to launch it past an initial stall with Mira's efforts. For a moment, he considered their position as the sling sung with a sharp chorus of wind. A sudden -crack!- filled the air as he loosed a stone, ripping through the winds to try to impact the Chorg's damaged horn, to distract it a moment more along with Lysandra's fire. Pain and surprise- perhaps a moment's breath.\n\nNargul was besides Orion, the wolf besides them both in-between, as the Orc heard the half-blood's words.\n\n\"You have my word.\" Was all Nargul could muster, before hell erupted before them.\n\n—\n\nThe Chorg's charge was a calamity onto itself. The splintering of bone was heard as the one right-side horn loosened along its fault, but it was not freed yet due to a glancing blow. It otherwise was a cunning thing, crafted by the cruelty imposed by its unseen controller. A massive arm swept across its front- sending enflamed stone and dirt flying for Orion, Lohmar, and Nargul like a blast of shrapnel, before it lowered a fist down, trying to slam it onto Nargul in a backswing, with its head bucking to try and launch Orion and Lohmar off the cliff in passing.\n\nIt was deceptively fast- a terror of fast-twitch fibers, with such frenzy in every motion that it moved as if in a haze, each jerk and surge quick enough to dare the eyes to keep up." }, { "author": "Orion Khavrur", "message": "Orion knew in moments like this there would be little use for extra weight. It was one of the many lessons he taught his crew, cutting ones losses in exchange for survival. Back at the caravan the deer that Lohmar had slain slumped to the ground after Kaelen cut the ropes which Orion had tied, letting its frozen body fall. Boxes of supplies, medicine, tools and more would scatter the road behind them allowing the wagon to pick up speed with the lighter load. Nargul's crash into its side was exactly what they needed, centering them on the road as they began their hasty retreat while their captain bought them time to flee.\n\nOf course for Orion, the man who had spent so much of his life weighed down by the burden of his misdeeds. His arrogance. His mistakes. The weight of worry he'd feel toward the Ferrymen would soon fall from his shoulders after hearing Nargul's response. He'd known this man for little over an hour. But he knew he could trust him.\n\nA small grin of gratitude was the only response he'd be able to give as the Chorg began to regain its footing. He looked up at the beast, the Mountain of Gantrick looking tiny by comparison. Nargul's skill with a sling slowed down its momentum substantially, but if it began to charge again it would be the end of all of them. He had no time to focus on defense. If he even gave this thing a fraction of a second to breath it would be over.\n\nWhatever happens will happen. One of them will be dying over this mountain pass.\n\nThrowing his right arm up in an arc before slamming it down brought the whip blade of Europa's Stinger crashing into the magical fire that separated the two of them. Sparks of flame shooting up between them, some landing on the edges of his furs starting small flames he didn't have the time to worry about. His blade now heated, he sent another strike of the blade, a sideways slash aiming toward one of its front legs, hoping to make it more difficult to charge.\n\nHis strategy focused solely on offense, meaning he was able to take the time to aim his strikes through the blinding blizzard. The blast of shrapnel bursting from the ground and lodging itself into the skin of Orion. He winced, but stood firm. Pulling off his hole ridden fur coat as it floated down the deathly ledge that they stood upon. It hurt but it would take far more than that to slow him down.\n\n\"C'mon! I'm right here, c'mon!\"" }, { "author": "Nargul", "message": "The barely bloodied beast corpse fell battered, bludgeoned by stones at the end of its ruinous fall after being freed from the clattering wagon. Strained wheels rattled and heaved their strain through each freezing joint on the uneven path. Let alone that the Chorg's mass was causing it to bounce, as well as those that'd call themselves its guardians.\n\nThe natural consequence of such mass - each pound on the path of the maddened beast would find Nargul, Orion, Lohmar, and the other's knees buckling as the earth itself seemed to gasp from the strain - each fissure driven into the ice under them freeing a bone-chilling screech and a sudden, whip-like crack as the path grew only more and more jagged. The wagon's retreat continued, but it was accumulating damage swiftly, as stones and icy boulders began to fall with it and collide into the path, also threatening to impact some of its guardians.\n\nNargul's one arm lifted to swing his cloak forward - soaking some of the flame and shrapnel by the weighted cloth, but he still took two painful impacts into his hip and ribcage, with sharp sounding -CRACKS!-\n\nThe Chorg itself slammed forward - Nargul's body was at once a blur and then a herald for thunder, as he collided with the cliff-side with a horrific gasp and a spray of red around him. The swift draw of his dagger showed that he dug it deep into the wrist of the beast, letting the momentum that struck his body rip it free at a bad angle. Now, a faucet of slippery red flowed free - but it missed the mark of a deep vein, only nicking it. Nargul himself had layered his forearms and lifted his feet, letting himself fly to reduce the blow - turning at the last moment to cover his head and slam into the wall with his shoulder and thigh laterally. It stopped life-ending injuries, but he could feel flesh bruising immediately, screaming pain ripping into him as he grimaced his pain, rolling to a knee behind the beast and rising.\n\n—\n\nIn the very same motion, as the Chorg's bicep was bit by the flaming steel of Europa, it lunged its head down and -lurched- it aside, aiming to batter into Orion from his flank, trying to drive him off the very cliff, before the free hand shot out for him, aiming to ensnare him if he dodged, the plan being to grind him into the stone as it sprinting full-speed down the cliff, gratering the half-blood until all that was left was flecks of bone and flesh smote forevermore into the path. Though, the hideous shriek of pain that came from the beast was a deafening blast - Nargul, Orion, and Lohmar's ears would -piiiiiIIIIIIIIIINNNNNNNNGH!- as the bellow dipped below their threshold for sound, becoming a vibration of force instead by pitch.\n\nThe taunt seemed to find its mark. Orion's will was hardened steel, as his blade, and so that tenuous threat burrowed deep into the Chorg's mind. Instinct against instinct, it now saw the Goliath as a challenger, a threat for this nightmarish thing's control of the mountain. Orion would be able to tell- for the time being, his courage made him a target - but that his allies may act with greater agency." }, { "author": "Lohmar", "message": "The wolf, as the shrapnel came, let out a sudden yelp of agony as a stone dug tip-turned and tumbling into his flank, another severance of sanguine shedding itself into the lifeless path. But, the beast was swift - dropping his body into a dive and rolling under the head that aimed to rip him from the mountain's side to his death below.\n\nSeeing Orion as the focus, the wolf well knew that he must flank. Breaking into a sprint - a blur of ochre and charcoal, Lohmar risked himself by driving in towards the arm that shot for Orion, aiming to get to the elbow and sieze the bulging tendons and ligaments at the elbow, snapping down with an audible crunch to try and sever them and take away its weapon, and to free his new pack-mate." }, { "author": "Orion Khavrur", "message": "The rumbling of the Chorg, the clattering of mountain rocks, the blizzard cutting against his skin, all of these things overwhelmed the senses of the captain with the wild Chorg closing the distance with each passing second. He could hear the sharp whirling of Nargul's sling, the sharp ping as it collided with its target. The outline of Lohmar trying to make the most out of the narrow passageway that they had to deal with. It looks like they weren't dead just yet. \n\nHe could hear the sounds of the caravan grown evermore distant, one which helped to keep him focused on the fight before the loud clattering of rocks and debris exploded from right behind him. He stood facing forward but he could only imagine what was happening behind him. If that was the sound of the wagon meeting a near miss or a fatal hit. The wheels were faint but he could hear them still moving, he let out a sharp exhale to calm his nerves. He trained each of the Ferrymen personally. He couldn't afford to worry about them if he wants everyone to leave this mountain alive.\n\nThe number one priority to accomplish this goal is to stop the charge of the Chorg. \n\nHe drew his blade back, splatterings of its blood beginning to sink into the snow as he prepared another strike. If he kept its attention that would mean he'd be able to buy more time. He watched its head begin to hang low, preparing to step to the side to avoid it, maybe even get a strike at the back legs. This plan would collapse before it could even be put into motion with the outline of the Chorg's arm jutting out right toward him.\n\n\"Shit!\"\n\nOrion planted his feet into the ground, crossing both arms over his chest in an X formation. A stance to keep himself as sturdy as possible with the hand pressing into him, the hard impact of its palm crashing into him in its attempt to crush him against the wall. And had it not been for his strength, size, experiences, training and determination he'd be dead. But because of them, it allowed him to give back an equal amount of force the charging monster had placed upon him, keeping him steady.\n\nFor about a few seconds.\n\nThose few seconds are ones that many people don't even get, but all of those factors mentioned earlier were all that this would afford him. Just an outcome that was slightly better than the common outcome. After all, one can do pushups, run laps, fight monsters and more for 100 years and be unable to match the sheer power of this beast.\n\nBecause of his drastic shift to defense Orion was unable to protect himself from the horn which he had turned his back to. A mistake he made believing this to be nothing more than a mindless, angry beast. Not one puppetted by a cruel, calculating master.\n\nIn one swift motion Orion was pierced. Entering slightly above the waist on his left and exiting out the otherside. Within a matter of moments, the Goliath was lifted into the air, his eyes wide with blood finding its way from his intenstines to escape through his mouth. Another moment would be all that was needed for him to go into the sky.\n\nOne of the few times Orion can say he's ever been thrown. And with him now hovering over the sheer drop of the cliff, likely the last time.\n\nBut even through the great pain he felt, Orion wasn't done. Not yet. As he ascended he shot out the whip blade of his stinger, aiming directly for the Chorg's horn hoping it would be able to wrap around in an attempt to save himself and stop the charge. If it worked, he'd be able to use his full weight against it, messing with its balance if not slamming it to the floor while he climb up the cliff ledge to keep fighting.\n\nAnd if it didn't work. Orion would have to come up with a new strategy and fast or he'd fall to his grizzly death." }, { "author": "Nargul", "message": "Faith was a bitter fruit when tested and teethed. Hard to swallow back the doubt that spilled from it - but Orion's was well-founded. The Ferrymen would find the wagon stabilizing, even as chunks of wood were sent in a splintered mass from the impact of stones and ice that blasted down from the bitter-cold path.\n\nAround Orion, after he was slammed into the wall, were the formation of cracks in the hard ice and granite. Such was the force of the blow that any normal man would have been pulverized - reduced to an ignoble smear, like an egg whipped against a wall. But it wasn't this blow that would fell the Mountain, wounded as he was." }, { "author": "Lohmar", "message": "Orion would see the wolf, as a blur, leap and strike the elbow of the beast with fangs wielded like sabers. The clack of his fangs closing heralded another splash of red from both sides of Lohmar's maw, as he shook and shook his head like a storm-addled flag, trying to tear the tissue free. In a few moments, it seemed to have gotten close, the grip on Orion loosening and loosening- before the next impact." }, { "author": "Nargul", "message": "The screaming pain of the penetration deafened Orion to all else. The world was silent, save for the echo of a heartbeat which would seem too distant and too deafening to be his own. But it was- as lifeblood poured from the Mountain, wetting the Chorg in warpaint, the maddened thing's bloodshot eyes stared at Orion. In that hate-filled gaze, a haze of strange shadows would be visible clearly for the first time, and so would the wretched thing lurking within the beast's mind. A Hym's cold and cruel visage stared back from that abyss.\n\nBut- even that had to depart from his mind for survival. Clutched then onto the Chorg's horn with his blade, he'd swing freely over the cliff, doom awaiting before after a sullen, lonesome fall.\n—\n\nBut he was not alone. Not this day - courage chased courage, and so Orion would see an Orc, leaping with all his strength, landing on the beast's back before clutching desperately with a free hand, gripping blood-slick and ice-coated fur. Nargul clamored, feeling for a moment before a surge of strength dove his dagger into the back of the beast - he twisted, and twisted, aiming to force the now wounded thing to try to turn towards the pain - away from the cliff. Leaving the dagger buried, he turns and grips onto Orion's blade - another shout of agony coming as he accepted the deep cut, even through a handful of leather, trying to yank on it as he rolled off the beast, using the pulley to get Orion close enough to the edge to pull himself up.\n\nFor his efforts, Nargul felt a hoof strike back, kicking him and sending him flailing, a burst of blood breaking from his lips as a rip soundly -CRACKS!- from the impact. The Chorg was now berserking in place, with both arms wounded at wrist, bicep, and elbow." }, { "author": "Lohmar", "message": "The cunning beast withdrew himself from the elbow - leaping tall, he hung in the air himself as he aimed to clutch onto the flesh of the Chorg's face, tugging onto it in the opposite direction of the cliff to weigh it down and bring Orion closer, and closer to his rise.\n\nThough, the Chorg now had only one thing in front of it - its momentum finally stopped as its frenzy had only three feasible targets left. With one arm, the Chorg gripped Lohmar's haunches and yanked them up towards its face, even as it fell towards its flank from the slippery blood, broken ice, and its own damaged limbs. With a disgusting sound and an ear-piercing shriek from the wolf, Lohmar was bit, the sound of a hip dislocating and ribs snapping filling the mountaintop." }, { "author": "Nargul", "message": "Orion and his Ferrymen then had a choice - fight on through the pain and fear, or fall. The mountains of Gantrick suffered no weakness." }, { "author": "Orion Khavrur", "message": "The cold air cut against Orion's skin as his body entered a freefall. His blade was let loose at its target and all he could do now was hope that he was accurate enough. Of course, if he missed, on the bright side in a few seconds he won't have to deal with the dread of missing such a critical target. His eyes looked to the ground below. He was finally close enough to see past the blinding snow at the jagged rock which awaited him. Oddly enough, he thought it kind of funny. The Mountain of Gantrick dying on a Mountain of Gantrick. Strange time to find humor in all this, but at least it would be a nice thought to keep his mind off the descent.\n\nAlthough, fortune would favor him as a sudden pull of his chain sent him back toward the mountain, crashing into the side of the cliff with a resounding thud. The open wound in his side seeming to grow from the impact alone as Orion grit his teeth from the pain. Looking up he could barely make out the figure of Nargul, hands wrapped around the blade itself and slowly pulling the giant up the cliff. He wanted to shout something, a thanks, maybe a joke of some sort. But at this point Orion was struggling to keep himself awake.\n\nHe could hear the sound of the Chorg thrashing up further, his hand grasping at the cliff ledge once he was finally high enough, trying his best to get himself up further. Tired eyes would see the sight before him as he rejoined the melee. Breath heavy as he felt the cold air burn inside his lungs. He willed himself to stand only to collapse back on down to his hands and knees. His blood rapidly began to stain the snow he knelt upon, his energy draining rapidly. \n\nC'mon... Just... Just get up\n\nHe commanded himself, the vicious beast that maimed him was not even 10 feet away, his crew were in danger, this was the worst time imaginable to give up. So far, the fact that Orion was still alive was a testament, let alone the fact that he was still conscious. The Chorg's horn impaling his torso and tearing through his flesh and organs. The captain had taken plenty of blows, some as bad as this one when he was a much younger man. But there were always healers to tend to him, allies to fight for him, to carry him home. \n\nOrion had sent his allies away, with no medicine potent enough for such a grizzly wound and in the middle of nowhere Gantrick.\n\nHis mind was as eager as ever to keep fighting. But his body, old and withered after decades of battle, was ready to give up. \n\nThe captain quickly began removing his coat, leaving only his red stained tunic left. The cold bit away at him as he did his best to tie the coat around his waist. Fumbling hands would struggle to keep steady attempting to tie a knot as more blood began to spill out beneath him. \n\n\"H-Help I... Can't... Help them\"\n\nHis whispers of encouragement to himself would be only audible to him as his body slowly went limp, slumping against one of the rock spires which lined the cliff edge. Orion himself using all the energy he had left to keep conscious as he danced between life and death" }, { "author": "Nargul", "message": "Blood aflame with bright red pain pricked and slipped from Nargul's palm. He gasped, feeling the frost already bite at the wound, as well as the sharp catch of his breath from his hoof-battered body. Snarling, he squeezed his back as tightly as he could, righting his posture as he breathed out a breath vile with the blood and bile of upturned guts from the force of the impact. Then, as his hands raised, a great burst of sudden winds send snow and fog skywards - suffocating the area around the Chorg and its foes in a sudden, sullen, stormy cloud.\n\nWith a dive, Nargul's hand wound back and- in lieu of a weapon and with the surprise, he just released an overhand diving like a descending sun into the middle of the Chorg's groin, aiming to cause it to release Lohmar with the natural yelp that'd accompany the battering the back-end bell-bag just got. But- that didn't stop his motion. Heaving through the pain - Nargul barely avoided an arm suddenly ripping through the fog as he crept low to Orion, aiming to soundlessly scoop him up." }, { "author": "Lohmar", "message": "There was a vicious, horrific yelp- higher pitched than before, as the Chorg suddenly turned around, snapping and beating at air for the horrific pain it suddenly had between its legs. A throbbing agitated it more, seeming for a moment to agitate it out of the cold focus of its unseen, unknown dark master. \n\nLohmar- suddenly released, yelped on landing and limped up onto two legs - unspoken and understood intuition between him and Nargul caused the wolf to half-lay on his belly, coming over until his head looped over Nargul's shoulder, using their body weight combined to-..." }, { "author": "Nargul", "message": "-... Slide the three of them down the sliding snow, using the fresh fall to accelerate against the cliff-face and batter themselves more over rocky crashes, coming after dozens and dozens of meters to the edge of woods, out of sight of the beast as the fog clears. - But - what was left, besides the ruin of the Mountain and Wanderers?" }, { "author": "Orion Khavrur", "message": "Tired eyes of the goliath would be able to make out the shape of Nargul battling against the Chorg. He'd not understand the sounds he heard of heavy winds and the crashing of the Chorg's hoof. But it was clear that Nargul had the upper hand. The wails of the Chorg growing louder as the iron scent of blood filled the air. Although he wasn't the Chorgs or his own. His attempt to staunch the bleeding with this cloak was to little success. The cloth loosely tied around his waist and already stained with blood. Orion barely having the strength left in him to squeeze his hand, let alone tighten it himself.\n\nAt the very least he wouldn't die on this cold, lonely spot. He felt himself be lifted high and rapidly descending down the mountain. He could see trees in the distance getting closer until they finally stopped, the air feeling just a tinge bit warmer.\n\n\"Did...\"\n\nOrion wheezed out as his life blood continued to escape him.\n\n\"Did we win?\"" }, { "author": "Nargul", "message": "Treacherous was the path down - in reluctant retreat, Nargul's features were shut tight behind a squint of agony as her back was torn, and broken bones rattled, by the rocks along the path. They picked up enough speed in descent that the tree they slammed into at the base of the uphill path crackled and fell aside. One casuality of battle - woe that it was that it may soon be joined by another.\n\nBut, the entire time, Nargul clutched the Mountain close, keeping head and wound covered as he refused to let the ally die before he could speak, before final words and wishes could be granted. Likewise, Nargul sacrificed more pain to hold Europa in the Ferryman's hand - so that if Orion fell, at least he would die a warrior who had not given up. Nor had he, it seemed, as he finally spoke to Nargul.\n\nThe Orc turned and rested himself and Orion against opposite, closely facing trees. Sturdy things, that boldly bared themselves to the cold and faced one winter after another. Perhaps one or both of them would feed their roots, by days end. Nargul's breath was shallow, as he focused and slowed it- deepened it against the fire inside his heart from the pain. A small wince came, as he adjusted his posture, laying his sword to the side, not on his back." }, { "author": "Lohmar", "message": "The wolf, shivering from pain, lay on the cold snow, stoppering the blood from the bite - or mostly - with that and the frozen makeshift bandage of matted, bloodied fur. His head rest on Nargul's leg, staring at the far wealds and wondering, in his own way, if he would join the spirits of his pack this night." }, { "author": "Nargul", "message": "Moments pass, seeming like aeons, before Nargul looks to Orion, eyeing him-... Closely. Assessing. No, he thinks. This was the end for the man he met on the mountains.\n\n\"We lived. Grip your fists, tightly. Keep yourself here. I must have your words to carry on your dreams.\"\n\n—\n\nA small pause came, as Nargul dipped his head, thoughts unspoken for a moment, before looking at Orion once more.\n\n\"Do you wish them free of these lands, safe? Or will you allow them to choose?\" He asks, knowing well that the allies of the Mountain would refuse to leave this battle unfought, to leave their leader unavenged.\n\n\"And-... Then-... Close your eyes and dream well of a land you love. Among my kind, it is said your spirit will live on there, after crossing.\"" }, { "author": "Orion Khavrur", "message": "To think that was all it took. Orion had been alive for well over 50 years living the life he had. Facing down death every single day and overcoming the odds every time. He's faced down the greatest beasts Lucidien has to offer, dueled foes which made him use every trick he had to claw his way to victory, walked the highest peaks to the lowest canyons.\n\nBut one thrust of a horn right through his abdomen was all that it would take. Just one moment of bad luck, a few split second decision and now the Mountain of Gantrick was destined to bleed to death in the cold. And with no healer for miles, it was unlikely that Orion would get help in time.\n\nThe half-human rested against the tree he had been placed near. The familiar chill of the cold air against his skin felt familiar rather than hostile now that they were so far down from where they had started. \n\nHe let out a weak chuckle at the mention that they had managed to survive the ambush.\n\n\"Good... Hope you got plenty education from that... Not many things in... In Gantrick that'll give you lesson in strength like an angry Chorg... Right, Nargul?\"\n\nHe joked, hands placed into the snow beneath him as he made his attempt to stand. For Orion has not realized the severity of his injuries. He was hurt, sure, but he was always taking on blows. Plenty that hurt much more than this one. But for all his strength, all the feats of power that his body has accomplished, he couldn't even use that strength to get himself to stand.\n\n\"Ori: Shit... That can't... Be any good\"\n\nHe slowly looked up at Nargul, lungs heaving with every breath as he was asked what he wanted the fate of the Ferrymen to be. And to be at peae for when his soul passes.\n\n\"C'mon and give me some... Some credit and quit that talk, I just need to rest for a minute and I'll be... I'll...\"\n\nOrion blinks rapidly, fighting off the urge to let his consciousness slip.\n\n\"Gods... That's the pains of... Getting old, y'know? Body starts to slow down and things... Well... They\n\nWere never easy... But they sure did get a whole hell of a lot harder.\"\n\nHe spoke, the snow beneath him slowly beginning to grow more red as time passed.\n\n\"Shame you never got the... Chance to see me in my prime. Did mercenary group for a long... Long time. Longer than I should've really... Was in a group called the Gilded Shields, think they're still around today... I ever get the chance to tell you that? Guess my minds slowing down too... Bit hard to keep my memories straight\"" }, { "author": "Nargul", "message": "There were few things more tragic to see than a body failing an unbroken spirit. Nargul watched the Mountain before him, and saw it unbowed by the winds of death that crept closer, daring and daring still to take from each of his breaths. In time, his last would come.\n\nAll at once, the cold air seemed to warm, and Orion's mind would be met by the mirage of his life. Tales and triumphs- tragedies and torments. But more than anything, a tunnel of sorts. A path, perhaps, or even a pass across the mountains. What lay beyond it was unknown, but soon he would cross it.\n\nNargul shut his eyes tight a moment, nodding his head deeply. There were few times he wished upon the gods, but now-? Nothing more could he wish for than that Orion was honored home in the land of spirits by his ancestors and friends passed. Returning to look at Orion then, both he and Lohmar could see that Orion was leaving them behind in this world.\n\n\"I do wish I had. I think we would have been friends.\" Nargul says, leveling his vision to Orion's own eyes, a mind full of his unspoken prayer for his passing to be proud. As proud as his spirit standing still, even as his body slumps slowly away into a dreamless sleep.\n\nAs the snow became red, Nargul returned to his earlier words. \"Close your eyes. Think of a place you love, and your spirit rest there. We will meet again, warrior.\"" }, { "author": "Lohmar", "message": "And a long while later, as the sun begins to set, leaving the red painted snow besides a bridge of oranges and golds, welcoming a Goliath to the next world, the wolf let out a struggling howl, his own way of prayer to Anthron and the Mother of Beasts." }, { "author": "Orion Khavrur", "message": "The mountain let out a laugh at Nargul's talk of them being friends during his younger years. Only to be cut short by the shooting pain which rang in his chest from such an action in his state. Reaching hand hand up to wipe away the blood which had seeped out from his mouth.\n\n\"No... I doubt we would've... I was a real bastard back in the day... I'd probably try to pick a fight with you if we met, then get the shit beat out of me because I never lost a fight... Thought I was invincible... Sure you can see now that I ain't.\"\n\nAt this point all feeling in his legs would fade entirely as that cold sensation began to work its way up his body. The cold realization of what this meant sunk in as he let out a sharp breath of frost.\n\n\"Thought might made right... Thought because I was strong it meant I could do anything I wanted since... Since nobody could stop me... The things I did for coin... Made peace with it, but took a hell of a long time to do that after I left the Shields... The time I spent feeling sorry for myself... Wishing things were different... Could've done so much... More... Better late then never, right?\"\n\nThe coldness rose to his chest, his arms which weakly gestured as he spoke now lay slack at his side. The captain taking a short pause to breath. It was a sad thing. A man like this with the history he had now out of breath from just talking.\n\n\"But... But I got out of that hole and got back to what I was good at, but this time... This time I was in charge... These days with the guild running things there isn't much need for mercenaries... But I knew there would be some kids out there that'll be falling into the wrong crowd like I did and sell their souls for money and wind up dead... So I figured, if they were going to fall in with someone, it might as well be me... 6 months back I founded The Ferrymen and... Well you see how that turned out...\"\n\nHe let out a short wheeze, his body too damage to laugh, this being a substitute. He knew his time was short now.\n\n\"Not sure what I want for 'em... I tried to do right, teach them to live and... Gods... I... I hate to leave them like... This... I...\"\n\nOrion would not be able to finish his thoughts. Unable to speak the final wishes that he had for The Ferrymen. That ragtag group of youths who didn't even know the fate of the captain. His head would lull to the side as the bright yellow glow of his eyes slowly faded, turning a pale grey. Those eyes would remain half open as one last breath of cold air escaped Orion's lungs. His lifeblood now sinking into the soil of his homeland. A man who lived a life of regrets, but at the very least made a genuine attempt to right his wrongs in the end. But he would do no more good for the world. No more guidance he'd give to young adventurers he had taken charge of. And no more pain would he feel.\n\nOrion Khavrur, the Mountain of Gantrick, was dead." }, { "author": "Nargul", "message": "He chuckled as well. Orion was likely right. They would've had their fights. But perhaps, a long while after that. Either way - he let Orion speak. He and Lohmar would be his audience, until that last breath was stolen by death.\n\nAnd so he sat, shallow breath stirred by stinging pain in his own ribs. Lohmar besides remained quiet, likewise watching Orion as each drop drove home the hopeless drive of the heart to dare against death. It stilled, quieted, and then lay silent.\n\nAnd so silent the mountains remained. Death took its toll, passing then and leaving the two survivors alone. Lohmar's howl was long and true, reverberating across the woods. A solemn song for a fallen warrior, as Nargul stood, slowly stalking over and dropping heavily on one knee next to Orion. \n\nHe reaches out, resting a hand on Orion's forehead, letting his dead eyes see the sky once more, before he closes them for the last time. With a hand reaching out to Orion's chest, Nargul lay it over his heart.\n\n\"Farewell, warrior.\"\n\nThis, and nothing more. Taking the Goliath's blade so that it may tell another tale with the Ferrymen, Nargul crept through cold and agony, seeking the trail of those that survived - if they survived, to keep his blood flowing and his mind steady.\n\nHe looked back only once, to see Orion resting against that tree. Nargul thought of moving him- but he shook his head. The man was a mountain himself. He should sit proud among the trees and stones that have faced this land, as kin.\n\n—\n\nAnd once Nargul found the trail, he and a wounded wolf wearily walked, to come up on the Ferrymen with a quiet sorrow in his gray eyes." } ]	378	18,466
388.333333	1776-07-04	GuildPublicThread	[ { "author": "osha_compliant", "message": "Kiriokos glanced over his shoulder, up the game trail and towards the mountains that he'd descended from, the mountains that had been all he knew for much of his life. He wasn't a child, intellectually he knew that beyond the mountains his people inhabited was a whole world, full of all manner of people. He'd even descended a handful of times to conduct trade with those people, but those had been more peaceful times. In recent years he'd spent a considerable amount of time dissuading interlopers.\nThere were those however who would not be turned away so easily; killers, bandits, smugglers, and the like. Those who eked out an existence beyond the edge of civilization, he'd had to kill those; for at time it was enough, but that time he suspected was quickly drawing to a close. Therein lay the reason he now found himself in a forest further away from his home than he'd ever been before. For the first time in his life, the young man well and truly felt alone.\n\nKiriokos' gaze whipped around abruptly as something small darted through the underbrush, directly away from him. A rabbit, or some other small creature perhaps, nothing that was of any threat to him for certain.\n\nSeizing upon the brief distraction, he broke himself away from his reverie and began doing what he always did; laying out his objectives for the day. He knew that if he allowed himself to think too hard about the monumental task ahead of him it could cause him to freeze, and that was something he couldn't afford.\n\nThe journey down from the mountains hadn't been overtly difficult, but it had taken time and no small amount of energy. Water wouldn't be a problem, even now he could pick out the musky scent of flowing water from the frigid morning breeze. He'd need to gather up small game to replenish his depleted provisions, and the fresh meat would do him some good. Clutching his wolf-skin cloak tighter about his body, he moved off into the forest, his past dimly lit by the rising sun.\n\nSometime later, Kiriokos made his way to the nearby river with little difficulty, marveling at how different and yet familiar the forest was around him. It reminded me of something his father had once said. \n' Every wood sings its own unique song, but if you listen closely enough, you'll find that the words oftentimes rhyme.'\n\nHe'd had no idea what the man meant at the time, but then again his experience with such things was severely limited, but walking through the forest with his senses stretched to the maximum, he thought he was beginning to understand. Pulling his empty water skin from his waist, Kiriokos kneeled on the riverbed and lowered the leather bladder beneath the clear waters, the nozzle facing upstream. Idly his gaze swept along the smooth stones embedded in the soft soil. Perhaps he'd pick up some of the more suitable stones for ammunition, there was no need for potentially losing one of his lead bullets on a rabbit." }, { "author": "lona Eir Olafdottr", "message": "Iona was traveling today, it had been a while since she had been out to hunt and with her experience of hunting she was able to usually able to follow the trails of animals in the forest. It all helped for her to be able to easily get some small pelts and meat to take back and sell in whatever town they decided to spend a few months at. Any extra coin they could get always helped when it came to where they were able to sleep, if it was a good inn or a shabby one. They had even spend a few winters in a barn because they couldn't afford anything else. This was just something that Iona just wouldn't allow anymore as she got older. Where she was now able to help get a coin or two with her mother she did whatever she could to help.\n\nIona would be hunting for a good amount of the day. She had been able to get so far three hares, one fox, and four squirrels. It was all some small game but some good meat to take back to the village, some furs to sell once skinning the animals. In all it wasn't a bad day of hunting and she might just get some good pay with it all since it was all some clean shots. Iona would make her way down to the river that was close by. She wanted to get some fresh water to drink and maybe wash up her hands a bit with the cold water. She liked that feeling of cold water on cool days as it usually kept her head clear and kept her from letting her mind wonder. She otherwise had trouble with remembering the day so many years ago that they ran for their lives.\n\nOnce she was done getting a fresh drink of water and was able to relax. She would sit down on a small bolder close to the water edge as she pulled out her violin. Adjusting her strings slightly as she starting to play a few cords. Once she got her violin into tune she would start to play a whimsical type song. Letting the song carry along through the river and trees as she would start to relax to the sound of her own music. The music and the crisp cool air from the forest. It just felt right." }, { "author": "osha_compliant", "message": "\"Music?\" Kiriokos grew still in his kneeling position, turning his head upstream to follow the clear water under the river disappeared around a gentle bend. He straightened up, the smooth stones of the riverbed forgotten. Casually he fastened the waterskin back to his belt, giving it a gentle tug to make sure it was secure.\nHe couldn't accurately say how far away exactly the source of the music was, the trees of this forest carried sound far differently than Morthal Forest.\n\nSomeone was here... And while he knew he ought to not be surprised by this new development, for some reason he hadn't expected there to be someone out here other than himself. The game here was far more plentiful and predators less dangerous, so it stood to reason that he might not be the only hunter out and about. Were they hunters though, or perhaps traders setting up camp. He hadn't seen signs of campfires, but then again he was in a strange new place, he didn't quite trust his own senses yet.\nReflexively he wanted to simply melt into the forest, and travel well away from here. A few days ago, in fact, that is exactly what he would've done, but things were different now, he would have to get used to handling things differently.\n\nWithout looking, Kiriokos retrieved his sling and laid one of his lead bullets in the leather cradle. He wouldn't go out looking for a fight, but he found that it was always best to be ready for one. The young man slipped back into the forest and began to navigate his way upstream carefully, taking care where each one of his steps landed on the forest floor.\n\nEvery now and then he paused, scanning slowly as he drew closer and closer to the music that echoed through the tall pines. It was a soothing melody, one that brought him back to simpler times in his youth, before interlopers became something of a regular occurrence and musicians were allowed to practice their craft. He was much closer now; despite himself, he could feel the music easing the tense muscles in his shoulders, and his grim expression softened ever so slightly as he approached the river in an unerring silence.\n\nHe pressed his body up against the trunk of a tree and peered around it, and there it was, the source of the music. It was a woman, young, likely younger them him though there was no real way to tell with him knowing nothing about her heritage. She held some sort of stringed instrument in her hands, and while he had know idea what she was doing, she clearly did. \nHe'd been about to walk from behind the tree, his caution giving way to curiosity, but then he noticed the woman's relative size. She was big, bigger than any other individual that he's seen. She dwarfed him in a way that his father had when he was still a boy. Thoroughly surprised, he watched, transfixed, as the Giantess played the instrument. Unbeknownst to him, a dry twig had snapped underneath his foot. A small sound to be sure, but to the practiced ears of a huntress, it would be more than enough to inform the woman of her 'audience'." }, { "author": "lona Eir Olafdottr", "message": "Iona would let her song carry her feeling of peace and connection to the forest. She liked days like this but that was because it was a normal day for her usually since they never stayed in a village but for a few months before going back into the forest to hide. Learning music is what had given her a purpose over just running and it was something she loved because she could make her own songs on her feelings at the moment. She didn't know she had an audience yet from a stranger but she also she wasn't at the moment listening to every small thing in the forest.\n\nShe was happily playing her song till she would hear a small snap od a twig. At that moment she would stop playing for one note before continuing to play. Though she didn't react in a hostile way she was now listening to the forest more for any type of danger that might be close to her. Though it didn't seem like she was dangerous she would be able to quickly change her violin into a bow to fight if needed.\n\nThough instead of doing that her pentant would glow a slight orange before going dark again. Her familiar coming out in a small whisp of smoke before the cat would start its hunt in the forest to see if the thing that snapped the twig was a danger or not. The fire cat would be sneaking up on Kiriokas, it quite and not noticeable to him till the cat was right on his foot and lit a small fire on it enough to make him get caught off guard." }, { "author": "osha_compliant", "message": "The smell was the first thing he noticed, and subconsciously he stiffened, then the heat as the gentle flame began creeping up the side of his boot, the exposed flesh of his foot reddening from the heat. His gaze snapped down to first the small fire, and then to what appeared to be a small housecat, that was bathed in a living fire. The sight of the creature confounded him, and for just a moment he was almost able to forget about the fire completely before the subtle pain reminded him of its presence. Biting down on a curse he shooed the small creature away with his hand, and quickly stepped away, gaining some distance as he dragged the side of his boot against the ground the smother the small flames that ate at the leather.\n\nNormally he'd have been assessing the creature to figure out just how he could quickly dispose of it, but something in the back of his mind stayed his hand. The creature wasn't overtly hostile, and he saw no reason to pick a fight with it quite yet, especially since he was still unaware of its capabilities.\n\nFar enough away to not worry about a sudden attack from the little beast, his gaze flashed back to the boulder that the woman had occupied in her musical trance, to confirm that she was still there. He didn't know what she was, or what her intent was. Perhaps it was innocent enough and he'd simply caught her unawares or perhaps she was some creature that he was unaware of that lured in poor fools with her music before feasting on his bones. He'd heard tell of such things from elders who'd told tales passed on from their forefathers as they roamed the realm, and it would be just his look to encounter such a foe." }, { "author": "lona Eir Olafdottr", "message": "The cat would not easily run off as it would stay by his foot till he would step away from it. It didn't seem to be burning anything else in the forest just had set his foot on fire. Though it wasn't like he would know it did that on purpose to make him come out from behind the trees. It would bound away from him while he wasn't looking and head back over to its master. Hopping up onto Iona's shoulder and sitting there happily as it's tail flicked.\n\nIona would have stopped playing at this point to take note of the person who stepped out. She hadn't meant for his clothes to burn that far but her familiar always had its own thought on how to handle something. She didn't feel threatened by this man as he hadn't tried to hurt her familiar so she guessed for the moment he was probably safe. Not to say she would completely trust him.\n\nIona would speak up for the first time as he would look back at her way. \"It's not very nice to stack someone and than just be hiding. Though sorry about the foot. This little one can be a bit mischievous when it comes to how she handles things. Hopefully you weren't burnt too badly I hope?.\"" }, { "author": "osha_compliant", "message": "Now out in the open, the man was much easier to observe. A helmet sat atop the man's head, obscuring much of his stoic features. Unlike fine steel, the helmet gave off no sheen and didn't reflect any light from the midday sun; it was scored and pitted from years of hard usage and was dark in color. Two small bulges in his cloak near his waist indicated that the man was probably armed, and with his hands under his cloak, it'd be impossible to know whether or not his hands were clasped around his weapons, though his posture wasn't hostile, only cautious.\nA heavy wolf-skin cloak lay draped across his shoulders, and concealed much of his body, ending just below his knee. Similarly, weathered metal grieves were affixed to his legs, atop a thick woolen padding that was somewhat visible underneath.\nHe was much smaller than her of course, nearly two feet smaller, and from the way his inquisitive gaze bore into her, it might very well be the first time that he's seen a Goliath.\n\nThe small fire had done a considerable amount of damage to the open-toed leather boots on the man's feet, but they still held together. From a glance though, he would have to either replace or repair the footwear soon. He briefly looked at the singed leather of his boot with a small frown before his amber gaze swept back up to the woman.\n\n\"Mischief?\" He cocked an eyebrow before stepping further out into the open, away from the tree he'd been sheltering behind.\n\n\"I didn't want to disturb you, you seemed at peace.\" He explained, his voice a smooth baritone. The sound of it seemed to briefly surprise the man as if he'd been startled by his own voice. That was true enough, curiosity had brought him this far, and he hadn't actually planned on interacting with someone." }, { "author": "lona Eir Olafdottr", "message": "\"Yes, she likes to cause trouble at times even when I'm not wanting her to. This is just regular for her I believe since she is a cat. Things easily become a toy to her. I apologize for the fire she caused to your footwear.\" Iona would take in his appearance. He didn't seem like someone from around here, maybe farther up north? It wouldn't be a surprise if he was. She'd met quite a few different people through her travels over the years just wasn't something she got into asking about as she would easily be gone in a few months anyways. No reason making connections to someone you won't see again.\n\n\"It's just the forest, it was peaceful so I played something that matched how the air of the forest sounded. If you listen closely you can hear its songs it wants to show us. I just find it's songs and play it in a way others can hear it.\" Though they might have weapons she wasn't worried as it was something she could outdraw if she felt threatened. Learning to hunt for years made her reflexes quick during a fight. Her need to learn an instrument make it just all the quicker for her hands.\n\n\"You're not from around here though to know the songs of this forest. The people around here know them and the trails... I suppose you are just a traveler and you decided to get curious once hearing someone playing. It's a nice day for being in the sun by a river. Lots of fresh air and warmth to give back energy to a weary soul.\" Though Iona usually wasn't one to just talk to someone she felt better talking about the forest since they were usually her home most of the year but during the colder months when it was hard to live in them." }, { "author": "osha_compliant", "message": "It was a good day indeed. He'd acclimated to the icy air of the snow capped mountains north of here, where there was little moisture in the air, and the wind sliced into ones' body like blades. There were warmer months to be sure, but this was something entirely different. The sun warmed his body here in a way that it never had before, and when he first descended on the south side of the mountains, the sensation had been almost intoxicating. It made him wish that he had risked more long range expeditions in the past, and were it not for his sacred task, he would've spent more time just simply thoroughly enjoying the feeling.\n\n\"Yes...\" He answered the woman, just a hint of trepidation in his tone. Everything about this situation felt... Wrong. He could count on one hand how many times he'd even spoken with someone from outside his village, let willingly approach and converse with them. \nHis people were incredibly secretive, it is this philosophy that kept them alive all the way up onto this point, but his task would require more of him than just this. Briefly he wondered how the others were doing, if they had made contact with outsiders yet.\n\n\"I'm from far away, and know very little of this place.\" He said, cutting straight to the heart of the matter.\n\n\"Is there a town nearby that you come from?\" He asked. She'd spoken of others, perhaps there was a place close by where he could rest his head out of the weather, or even trade furs for coin. His people typically had no use for coinage, and so they hadn't been able to give him any. From what he knew of the outside world, he would need to acquire funds one way or another." }, { "author": "lona Eir Olafdottr", "message": "\"You don't seem to talk much, and when you do you seem like it's almost forbidden. It's a bit strange. But I suppose that is just how I am probably seeing it. I don't talk to many either. Don't like making friends, too many that could be an enemy I suppose.\" She would shrug as she plinked on a few of her strings. She couldn't just trust him either but she wanted to still be civil enough to not seem like she was dangerous.\n\n\"There is a village close by, would probably say it's a good walk though but following the river would get you there if you didn't know the way. It's a nice enough village with an inn for travels like yourself and people don't ask a lot of questions.\" Iona would look over at him before deciding it was time to get up and start moving again. With her fully standing up now she would easily tower over him. Though to her this was just a normal thing with others as she didn't interact with other Goliaths.\n\n\"I'm going to be heading there myself so if you want to come along you can. Otherwise you just follow the river down stream to reach it.\" She would pick up her kill and set her violin into a case before putting it on her back. Her cat than also vanishing into a whisp of smoke." }, { "author": "osha_compliant", "message": "The corner of his lips twitched upwards into something of an amused smile, breaking up the man's stoic expression. It was as if the woman possessed a window into his mind. Likewise, he was more than a little hesitant about this brief encounter and didn't have much experience connecting with those he'd consider outsiders. Balakans weren't very expressive people, and relationships were viewed more like transactions than anything else. It had worked through all the hardship they collectively faced, but as with all things he suspected, he'd have to adapt to his new reality.\n\nAs he deduced, there was a village close by, the confirmation from the woman gave him direction, something he desperately needed right now, a stepping stone for the rest of his quest. He didn't know quite yet what he'd do when he reached the village, but at least his mind could fixate on that for now. Like all things, he'd focus on the next immediate step instead of worrying himself about things far in the future.\nWith her directions he could of course find the village himself, her guidance was simple enough, but she was a local. It might be best that he at least be associated with her for now, it might keep the villagers from viewing him as a complete outsider.\n\nThere was a rather long pause, and for a moment it might have even appeared that the man hadn't heard her, but then he spoke again.\n\n\"I would accompany you to this village if you do not mind.\" He said, after weighing the pros and cons, finding that there weren't many cons at all, aside from maybe her luring him into a trap. He imagined though that between her size and her apparent grasp of the magicks, she wouldn't waste any time with deception if she wished him harm." }, { "author": "lona Eir Olafdottr", "message": "\"You're welcome to come along than, it's usually nice to travel with someone else I think. Least that is how I think when traveling to a village. Also you didn't have to worry about the village thinking of you as a stranger. They all are pretty good for people, very welcoming type of people.\" Iona would look at him, she would give a smile as to be kind. She didn't really know how to just react with another normally. It was always something she didn't do unless she had to do. But she also just felt like she would lose her reasoning not to talk about herself and spill her trouble. But she couldn't do that because she was on the run.\n\nShe would start to walk back through the forest, heading back to the village. Though the normal quiet was gone it still didn't feel bad. The birds were still singing so she knew there was no danger close to them at least. It was something she always listened for when in the forest. There been some times when she was attacked by a bear or something big. They thought they could take her and it usually didn't work for the predator that tried.\n\nAfter some time they would arise at the edge of the village, it was a nice place it seemed. Not very big place but it felt welcoming which was a good thing for travelers who happened into the place." } ]	358.5	4,660
28.252918	1776-07-04	GuildPublicThread	[ { "author": "caleb.gui", "message": "For spy gang shenanigans\n\nCreating this here for now, I'm gunna be dropping some documents and stuff to look at later this week\n\nJust wanted to make this now cuz I can" }, { "author": "uss_yorktown", "message": "Shouldn't we also invite Pali? She's got a spy coming through subs" }, { "author": "caleb.gui", "message": "When it gets accepted\n\nAlready spoke in DMs\n\nAccidentally pinged Basil when I meant to ping Pali 💀\n\nYeah we're gunna be pushin' some docs soon. Right now I'm gunna be making a Google Presentation™️ of some of the gadgets we got going on here\n\nFeel free to share with the classroom your ideas and info™️\n\nAnd running it by Zek ofc\n\nNot ingesting them ofc" }, { "author": "palipocket", "message": "No no Of course not. For others." }, { "author": "zekhartha", "message": "Why not in rp discussion" }, { "author": "palipocket", "message": "I am going to add to a few of my jewelry weapons probably to include some uhhh poison" }, { "author": "caleb.gui", "message": "Because nobody uses these thread channels\n\nAnd I asked Dolly and never got a response lmao\n\nSo I decided \"Fuck it lets use these underused thread channels\"" }, { "author": "palipocket", "message": "Spys, where you least expect them." }, { "author": "caleb.gui", "message": "Plus nobody'll look in here anyways\n\nSo York and I already came up with a potential gadget. It'd be parchment paper that can magically ink on anything the holder thinks\n\nAllowing for sensitive info to be written without writing anything, or taking photographic-like imagery (made of magic ink) by just thinking of the image in your mind" }, { "author": "palipocket", "message": "What spell would we use as the base for that?" }, { "author": "caleb.gui", "message": "Gimme a moment, I think it's a transmutation spell\n\nOh sorry it was either Divination or Enchantment\n\nThe paper would either be casting Detect Thoughts on the holder to write everything down\n\nOr you cast Encoded Thoughts onto it to write what you want\n\nHaving it as Detect Thoughts would actually be pretty sneaky, if you give the parchment to someone else, they accidentally write something into the parchment, such as sensitive info they were thinking of, then taking the paper back" }, { "author": "palipocket", "message": "The issue is if they notice it\n\nI wonder if we can have it also use illusion magic to appear blank\n\nUnless a counter spell is cast" }, { "author": "beef3014", "message": "In regards to gadgets...\n\nYou guys need a Quartermaster?\n\nContemplating making a member of the spy corp tbh\n\nBecause spy shit is so based\n\nEither a Q type guy or another field agent like Astalios has" }, { "author": "palipocket", "message": "We have a happy go lucky mailman and a vain pathetic runaway noble" }, { "author": "beef3014", "message": "I do love me some vanity Ngl\n\nVery fun character trait to RP as" }, { "author": "palipocket", "message": "Where does the meme and and the truth begin?\n\nI think y'all are going to like rping with her\n\nShe's also deep under cover" }, { "author": "beef3014", "message": "What nations are we in? I know the mailman is Findaran" }, { "author": "palipocket", "message": "She's in findara too living with a lord and lady near the palace" }, { "author": "beef3014", "message": "If I do make a spy it'll either be to complete the Findaran network or get us a character in Alynthi\n\nAs those two are prob the prime targets\n\nEveryone else is either an ally or not very threatening + part of the slave trade" }, { "author": "palipocket", "message": "Exactly. York and I both have characters in Alynthi that info would need to be gathered from so it didn't quite work for there" }, { "author": "uss_yorktown", "message": "It's an illusion spell called illusory script, made specifically for this purpose\n\nAlso needs to be permanently covered in Nystul's Magic Aura so that Detect Magic doesn't return a hit\n\nThat's a casting for 30 days constantly" }, { "author": "caleb.gui", "message": "Or even a guy who makes the gadgets" }, { "author": "beef3014", "message": "Yeah that's basically what I meant\n\nQuartermaster as in Q from James Bond, as opposed to a real Quartermaster" }, { "author": "basilhound", "message": "Feel free to remove me from the thread 😂" }, { "author": "caleb.gui", "message": "I don't got perms to\n\nI wanted someone to do that but didn't wanna pressure anyone" }, { "author": "uss_yorktown", "message": "Okay - the gadget I've been confirmed to have right now is a dagger that heats up just enough to melt wax seals but not high enough to burn paper\n\nThe thought being that you slide it under the seal to detach it, then melt it back on" }, { "author": "palipocket", "message": "Nothing magical but I have the comb dagger and some other jewelry stubby/slicing things\n\nI still think it would displace the wax too much, you're better off heating it from the bottom if possible so the heat is evenly distributed" }, { "author": "uss_yorktown", "message": "Bottom of the paper?" }, { "author": "palipocket", "message": "The magic tampering is probably our biggest hurdles" }, { "author": "uss_yorktown", "message": "That's what Niles's next spell he's tinkering with is - right now, you can for sure dispel alarm spells, but you can't recast them unless you know the trigger the first caster was working with to make it seem like" }, { "author": "caleb.gui", "message": "I can confirm that earrings disguised as jewelry designed to counter enchantment magic exists\n\nBecause that's one of Johannes's devices he wears all the time basically\n\nCounter-charm Earrings" }, { "author": "palipocket", "message": "Share pretty jewelry? 🥺\n\nIf I make you proud" }, { "author": "caleb.gui", "message": "I think you'll have access to it already\n\nAs a spy in the noble courts" }, { "author": "palipocket", "message": "Because I'm a pretty princess?\n\nRight of course that" }, { "author": "uss_yorktown", "message": "Could I get one that looks very simple? A leather strap and a shark tooth or a wolf tooth etc instead of an earring" }, { "author": "palipocket", "message": "Niles is sad I'm the favorite child\n\nLike a silver medallion with a fox on it?" }, { "author": "uss_yorktown", "message": "Something a peasant would have" }, { "author": "palipocket", "message": "That makes you impervious to magic\n\nI like that idea good one." }, { "author": "caleb.gui", "message": "It doesn't make you impervious lmao" }, { "author": "uss_yorktown", "message": "The wheel weaves as the wheel wills" }, { "author": "caleb.gui", "message": "Sorry I'm lowkey working\n\nEarrings aren't a hard counter to enchantment magic, they resist it but a strong enough Enchanter can bypass it\n\nThat's where the Countercharm training comes on" }, { "author": "uss_yorktown", "message": "Better than nothing for sure\n\nThat's MY black triangle\n\nNo one else gets one" }, { "author": "caleb.gui", "message": "I already have one for Johannes" }, { "author": "beef3014", "message": "My only possible qualm is what my actual RP would be, as I wouldn't be out doing spy shit\n\nAnd you can only do so much giving people gadgets" }, { "author": "uss_yorktown", "message": "Well, everyone has a personal life - and there's no reason you can't be attending research conventions etc" }, { "author": "beef3014", "message": "Very true actually, general Artificer-Alchemy shenanigans would work" }, { "author": "palipocket", "message": "Zora is doing something really similar in Alynthi right now we can crank out some goodies" }, { "author": "caleb.gui", "message": "Yeah homie could be in the Alchemist Guild and such\n\nYou aren't restricted to just" }, { "author": "uss_yorktown", "message": "International Alchemical Association" }, { "author": "caleb.gui", "message": "\"You're the spy gadget guy lol\"" }, { "author": "beef3014", "message": "Ok yeah I think I will make medieval Q\n\nOne of you better use something I make to perform a terrorist bombing in order to spike tensions and incite a conflict CIA style" }, { "author": "uss_yorktown", "message": "It's based in Alynthi, given the king's sponsorship of the Association\n\nBut should be open to everyone" }, { "author": "caleb.gui", "message": "I have eyes on Khisfire rn\n\nThat could always involve terror attacks" }, { "author": "beef3014", "message": "This also provides another angle" }, { "author": "caleb.gui", "message": "My main plan anyways is to make a solid Dasvaz-Khisfire-Gantrick relationship\n\nAnd begin pushing for dominating of the other kingdoms\n\n~~I know you're King of Thyseer but I just wanted to let you know Thyseer is my big target~~" }, { "author": "uss_yorktown", "message": "Exactly, get the skinny on the guild from inside\n\nAnd you don't even have to steal info necessarily" }, { "author": "caleb.gui", "message": "Point of getting Khisfire on Gantrick's side is to try and pincer Thyseer three-ways and take over the kingdom.\n\nThough server plot and Alyus might have different ideas" }, { "author": "beef3014", "message": "Also I assume it's a given all our characters have ridiculously thick Gantrickan accents and just mask them well\n\nSo if they're found out we get that juicy accent switch" }, { "author": "caleb.gui", "message": "Probably trained to hide the accent" }, { "author": "uss_yorktown", "message": "Nah, Niles is from a border town, his accent is very diluted" }, { "author": "caleb.gui", "message": "Illusion/Transmutation magic makes for good disguising" }, { "author": "uss_yorktown", "message": "Slydenn is right on the edge of Alynthi and Dazvaz" }, { "author": "caleb.gui", "message": "I imagine Johannes transmutes his vocal cords" }, { "author": "uss_yorktown", "message": "Real talk that could go so wrong" }, { "author": "caleb.gui", "message": "When he needs to do actual spymaster shit that requires his immediate presence" }, { "author": "uss_yorktown", "message": "Doing an accent is much less risky" }, { "author": "caleb.gui", "message": "He doesn't usually even send himself physically out for the spymaster stuff\n\nHow I imagine it, he has proxies pretending to be him\n\nSome Big Boss - Punished Snake shit" }, { "author": "uss_yorktown", "message": "This is making me think about an Alynthi spy org. I don't have a spymaster, sadly\n\nBut I imagine I've got a pretty good one" }, { "author": "beef3014", "message": "I also like that Gantrick is Russian based\n\nAnd we're the first major spy org" }, { "author": "caleb.gui", "message": "KGB is a inspiration\n\nBecause I can imagine some sleeper agents exist out there\n\nWell the \"Sleepers\" Are the slaves that Johannes willingly lets get rescued by other nations\n\nWho are actually spies\n\nI wanted to incorporate Gantrick's slave business into the spy corp and make it even more integral as to why Gantrick likes their slaves\n\nBecause Johannes uses it as his way of getting his assets out into the wider world\n\nWhich I'm sure Vasili hates" }, { "author": "beef3014", "message": "Tbh KBG is more internally focused than say, the CIA would be\n\nAre they proper sleepers or just agents?" }, { "author": "caleb.gui", "message": "Nah they're actual agents" }, { "author": "beef3014", "message": "Make a Sleeper Agent magic ritual" }, { "author": "caleb.gui", "message": "I don't imagine we have that level of Enchanters in Gantrick\n\nLazaroth I say would make sense\n\nTo have sleeper agents\n\nGantrick doesn't seem like the type, anyways" }, { "author": "beef3014", "message": "Sleeper agents are cool asf though\n\nPossible the coolest spy thing" }, { "author": "caleb.gui", "message": "Like I can imagine some sleepers exist\n\nBecause of our relationship w/Lazaroth" }, { "author": "beef3014", "message": "That's enough for me fr\n\nAlso, do I go for \"Woah the tech guy is actually buff asf and looks like you'd think a field agent would\" Or full skinny ass nerd mf" }, { "author": "lannistergold", "message": "Subvert expectations" }, { "author": "caleb.gui", "message": "Like nobody expects the Spymaster to he a 6'4 200+lbs Fighter/Warlock" }, { "author": "beef3014", "message": "Johannes is 6'4 and 200lb???\n\nSenator Armstrong out here wtf" }, { "author": "caleb.gui", "message": "Johannes is literally Senator Armstrong fr\n\nMaking the mother of all omelettes here, Alyus\n\nCan't fret over every egg" }, { "author": "uss_yorktown", "message": "Man people are massive in this server\n\nShortest non-AFT royal is 6'3'\n\nBut also I agree on the CIA-KGB dynamic\n\nKGB does internal suppression to prevent their citizens from wanting the freedoms afforded to people not under communist dictatorship" }, { "author": "caleb.gui", "message": "Idk I was thinking on spy movies n' shit lol\n\nI don't actually know the IRL of it all\n\nTo be frank, Johannes doesn't really care about suppression of his citizens because Vasili literally does that\n\nWithout Johannes lifting a finger\n\nI wanted to subvert the expectation for the Spymaster\n\nBecause usually it's\n\nSneaky rogue\n\nSmall, meek, disgusting old man\n\nFemme fatale\n\nBecause IRL, assassins and spies weren't your typical cloak and dagger\n\nIt's also why Johannes's animal shift is the goat. It's such an unassuming animal" }, { "author": "uss_yorktown", "message": "I guess I would have made a desk clerk lol" }, { "author": "caleb.gui", "message": "Well that's kinda what Johannes is anyways\n\nBut does a lot of international politics and improves his standing as Duke\n\nY'know what they say\n\nKeep your friends close but your enemies closer" }, { "author": "beef3014", "message": "State capitalist more than communist but that's a whole other can of worms\n\nI mean I'm down to discuss it in DMs if you want" }, { "author": "caleb.gui", "message": "I'm feeling like causing some strife in Khisfire in a bid to gain control" }, { "author": "palipocket", "message": "I think that's definitely doable if she were near them\n\nI'm not sure how to get them in the same place" }, { "author": "caleb.gui", "message": "Under the guise of diplomacy" }, { "author": "palipocket", "message": "But Aviana isn't really notable in Findara" }, { "author": "caleb.gui", "message": "Whoops, am I misremembering?" }, { "author": "palipocket", "message": "She's the ward of a minor noble man and woman" }, { "author": "caleb.gui", "message": "Aw shoot so true, slipped my mind" }, { "author": "palipocket", "message": "Her story is she ran from an abusive family in gantrick blah blah now they're taking care of her" }, { "author": "caleb.gui", "message": "Sorry thought she was placed at a higher position in Findara as all for some reason" }, { "author": "palipocket", "message": "No you're so good. That would probably be too notable we don't want that kind of attention\n\nThis way she's close enough to findaran nobility without raising suspicion" }, { "author": "caleb.gui", "message": "Very true. Sucks Findara isn't my immediate interest right now since Khisfire is a more volatile area presently\n\nIt's fine though, I can probably work something else. Issue is I don't want you to spy on your own OC" }, { "author": "palipocket", "message": "She couldn't get close enough to the queen\n\nHE DEFINITELY CNA NOT\n\nShe'll be able to spy on pretty much anyone else but there's no reason she'd be in the same circle\n\nOh yeah true I guess Aviana could also but won't\n\nFucking Lizard people" }, { "author": "caleb.gui", "message": "Niles I actually had a different idea for\n\nI was going to use him to basically send mail out from Findara to Khisfire to communicate with the Portan Duchess.\n\nAnd as a failsafe, use Findara as an escape goat if we get caught" }, { "author": "palipocket", "message": "I Can moonlight as a correspondent\n\nWrite threatening messages etc" }, { "author": "caleb.gui", "message": "Ooh fuck, joint effort? Start a disinformation campaign with our Faux-Findara Noble and Courier in Khisfire?" }, { "author": "palipocket", "message": "Yes she can also probably ruffle some feather on the findara side with fake letters from khisfire nobles\n\nThose she could casually leave on their persons at parties" }, { "author": "caleb.gui", "message": "Glad I brought up the idea and didn't give up right away" }, { "author": "palipocket", "message": "One way to send a message" }, { "author": "caleb.gui", "message": "Our main goal is to cause a civil war and kick the Samir family out of the Sultanate\n\nBecause Johannes wants someone more favourable to his cause in the seat of power" }, { "author": "palipocket", "message": "Yeah that makes sense. I think sabotaging peace efforts would help" }, { "author": "caleb.gui", "message": "My primary goal, and I know Beef is in this chat lmfao, is to take over Thyseer and divide the continent down the middle" }, { "author": "palipocket", "message": "Joke is on you I am already planning on taking Thyseer over\n\nAnd giving it to Alynthi\n\nThen giving Alynthi to gantrick\n\nAlways keep them guessing" }, { "author": "caleb.gui", "message": "You had me in the first half lmfao" }, { "author": "palipocket", "message": "No my princess does have plans\n\nBut that's not relevant to this chat" }, { "author": "caleb.gui", "message": "All good, we can keep them separate\n\nThe Thyseer takeover won't require your spy so you can act as opposition guilt free\n\nKhisfire right now is my current goal" }, { "author": "palipocket", "message": "Pshhhh my Thyseer princess is in Alynthi right now she wouldn't know" }, { "author": "caleb.gui", "message": "Thyseer comes way later anyways" }, { "author": "palipocket", "message": "Welll see about that 😏" }, { "author": "caleb.gui", "message": "Because the Samir family needs to be given the boot first— or we stomp our own coup out to bolster Gantrick's standing with the Sultan and blame it on the Portan Duchess\n\nWin-win either way lmfao\n\nOk, so.\nIRP, maybe Thursday, I'll write Johannes sending out orders to the spies\n\nAnd getting started on the disinformation campaign" }, { "author": "palipocket", "message": "Wait how will he travel that far\n\nThat isn't a friendly neighborhood mailman trip" }, { "author": "uss_yorktown", "message": "Sure! I don't see that Niles has a ton of choice in it anyway tbh - he might be very wary about it but it's orders\n\nIt's how he can deliver out of town at all" }, { "author": "palipocket", "message": "Yeah we'll need to figure out the security specifications on this\n\nAlso how to forge letters from people prominent enough to matter to the portan duchess" }, { "author": "caleb.gui", "message": "Oh no, she's gunna know a Conspiracy is working w/her\n\nShe just won't know it's Gantrick\n\nAlright here's my thought process.\nEvidently she's gunna need to meet the real deal, I plan on arranging a actual meeting with Johannes and Sonika, however Johannes is gunna keep the lid on who he is and who he works for.\n\nWe're deliberately using a Findara courier to give the hint that our Conspiracy is out from Findara— hence seeding some suspicion without flat out saying who we are.\n\nThe actual disinformation part from your end would probably be sending stuff to the Samir family instead— or Sultanate family affiliates\n\nAlternatively, we fake the family Avi works for as the Conspirators and solicit them into the equation along with implying other Findara nobility to generate more suspicion. That's another route we can take\n\nIf there's a few holes that need to be plugged/addressed, feel free to share lmao. I'm just trying my best to give us something to do\n\nAnd also IRP, I imagine these are the sorts of discussions Johannes has with his senior spy members because he's also prone to making mistakes" }, { "author": "uss_yorktown", "message": "I think the best thing we can do is to keep it simple. Too much manipulation can tangle the web\n\nKeeping Who From Findara it is as a secret works because obv no one would want to be found out\n\nAnd that's simple enough" }, { "author": "caleb.gui", "message": "That's true— I want to go with the Findara Courier angle to keep heat off Gantrick's ass if things go south if ya dig." }, { "author": "uss_yorktown", "message": "We've got to imply and not tell" }, { "author": "caleb.gui", "message": "Basically what I mentioned above. Ok, we're on the same page here\n\nJohannes _will_ have to reveal himself/a proxy to Sonika, just to buy her trust, otherwise the courier route seems to be well understood right now" }, { "author": "uss_yorktown", "message": "I would defer to Pali here, she knows politics way better than I do\n\nBut that's my thought" }, { "author": "caleb.gui", "message": "Yeah, I'll wait on what Pali would wanna share" }, { "author": "beef3014", "message": "Would be a cool death to happen if it does though\n\nAs he's one of the most kindhearted and genuinely good people, almost naively so, making it more potentially realistic and more jarring" }, { "author": "palipocket", "message": "I would say it's in his interest to not and leave it vague. If he has intel on her he can blackmail without putting himself at risk\n\nUltimately that's what we want to do here, use what we have to make a lot of people really paranoid of each other" }, { "author": "uss_yorktown", "message": "Fam I have to be so real with you that shit's not going to happen\n\nI think it's too obvious a power swing for people not to have a massive world war" }, { "author": "caleb.gui", "message": "That, I feel, is an issue OOC.\nIdc if we fail in the end, my goal is to make something happen and have our OCs do shit\n\nInstead of sit around and do effectively nothing\n\nBecause we could just have Niles monitor Findara mail, or have Avi monitor the royal courts, but I wanna actually do _something_ with the characters. Even if it's unlikely to happen, for me it's for the sake of plot" }, { "author": "uss_yorktown", "message": "Well, thinking about it logically IC, there's no way we would even attempt that\n\nKhisfire we can work with" }, { "author": "palipocket", "message": "If it's a personal goal that's fine" }, { "author": "caleb.gui", "message": "Thyseer we'd have to convince Alyus, that's true" }, { "author": "palipocket", "message": "Like this dude is not totally sane is he?" }, { "author": "uss_yorktown", "message": "Yeah, for Thyseer to come under the control of Gantrick we'd have to essentially control the three largest/most diametrically opposed govs to Gantrick at once and make sure none interfered" }, { "author": "caleb.gui", "message": "He's in it for domination, so I suppose there's a degree of insanity there lol" }, { "author": "palipocket", "message": "Yeah it's not reasonably going to happen but we can try and work towards it if that's our boss' goal" }, { "author": "caleb.gui", "message": "Oh I know a war would straight up happen" }, { "author": "palipocket", "message": "Yeah depending on how power hungry he is for the gantrick boys it could blind him to the problem s of the plan" }, { "author": "caleb.gui", "message": "Point of taking over Khisfire/making them allies is to be able to convince them to assist us in taking Thyseer, because no way we do that without a show of force" }, { "author": "uss_yorktown", "message": "You know, I'm pretty sure they're already basically allied" }, { "author": "caleb.gui", "message": "With the new Sultan? Yeah\n\nI read him up recently" }, { "author": "palipocket", "message": "Yeah but they still have free will fucj that" }, { "author": "uss_yorktown", "message": "And they won't be able to assist in taking Thyseer because they'd essentially have to invade Alynthi first - wayshrines can be closed and armies can't march through them\n\nAlynthi would beat the tar out of them for no reason, and Findara alone can likely defend Thyseer, not to mention the Thyseer troops themselves" }, { "author": "caleb.gui", "message": "Dasvaz was also originally part of the plan to assist, but, I gotta wait on Titan now\n\nAnd I got a feeling the new War Chief will be more morally good" }, { "author": "palipocket", "message": "Wait were actually talking a about starting a world war?" }, { "author": "uss_yorktown", "message": "I think if we wanted a more reasonable goal we can work towards\n\nWe probably have to realign ourselves\n\nI'm with you, I want to make things happen" }, { "author": "palipocket", "message": "I thought this was like let's make them collapse from afar thing sweep in to pick up the pieces later on" }, { "author": "caleb.gui", "message": "Yeah, Khisfire still isn't unreasonable still. I know what's happening there" }, { "author": "uss_yorktown", "message": "But the way we do this is probably by removing anti-Gantrick nobles" }, { "author": "caleb.gui", "message": "Thyseer isn't that simple" }, { "author": "uss_yorktown", "message": "And promoting those friendly to the cause" }, { "author": "palipocket", "message": "Yeah there's a lot of infrastructure that would help with that first" }, { "author": "uss_yorktown", "message": "Now in Thyseer, Alynthi, and Findara pro-Gantrick nobles are either sleeper agents or immediately executed for their crimes\n\nSo I wouldn't say that's going to happen" }, { "author": "caleb.gui", "message": "It's why Johannes does what he does as a Duke\n\nAnd International Relations" }, { "author": "uss_yorktown", "message": "I do want to say - we're a spy organization, not a military\n\nInformation gathering - and maybe an assassination here or there - is the business" }, { "author": "palipocket", "message": "That could be a legit goal" }, { "author": "uss_yorktown", "message": "We can take out people that will be problematic and try to replace them but I think doing that with the objective of actually taking over Thyseer is just not attainable or within the bounds of what a reasonable spymaster would attempt to do" }, { "author": "palipocket", "message": "I Guess it depends on what Alyus wants the limits of his spymaster to be\n\nLike does Alyus know this is happening?" }, { "author": "uss_yorktown", "message": "For example, if there was a politician in Thyseer that was advocating for increased intervention in foreign affairs - sending money to a struggling Khisfire when you want them to collapse etc - we kill him" }, { "author": "caleb.gui", "message": "Dude I gave Alyus a fat google doc of my plans and never gave feedback\n\nSo I'm just doing what I want" }, { "author": "uss_yorktown", "message": "I think what we should do is keep tabs on the developments of the world - then decide what stance is Gantrick's interest and try and influence events there. FOr example, Henryk\n\nKidnapping or acquiring him" }, { "author": "caleb.gui", "message": "Idm. Right now Thyseer can have a fat pin on it because it's not our immediate interest. \n\nWe want Khisfire as a pro-Gantrick nation with a possible puppet Sultan controlling the place." }, { "author": "uss_yorktown", "message": "I think Thyseer needs to have the pin taken out." }, { "author": "palipocket", "message": "For now a pin is fine\n\nWe can work towards other goals" }, { "author": "uss_yorktown", "message": "Even that's ambitious, to puppet a Sultan. I think we can probably gain more trust and access to his government if we give 'assistance'.\n\nLet's say Nala is ruining his appearance? We set up her removal" }, { "author": "caleb.gui", "message": "Now I will say, don't let the obvious OOC dissuade you" }, { "author": "uss_yorktown", "message": "Ask for nothing in return and he'll be more likely to give us stuff" }, { "author": "caleb.gui", "message": "Because I'm 80% sure whatever we do probably will fall on its face" }, { "author": "uss_yorktown", "message": "No worries there, I'm thinking entirely IC" }, { "author": "palipocket", "message": "Listen if the character is unhinged, knows he's going behind the king's back, and not thinking practically short term then it works\n\nAt least as a goal he might try to achieve\n\nI don't think it's within the realm of a spymaster, realistic, or something the king would approve" }, { "author": "uss_yorktown", "message": "You garner trust by performing 'selfless' acts, generally. It's how Niles worms his way into the Findaran community - he actually does go out and do favors for people, takes care of their kids for an hour, helps build a new barn etc" }, { "author": "caleb.gui", "message": "Because I feel people often are dissuaded from OOC because they got \"That's not gunna happen\" Get hit in their face" }, { "author": "palipocket", "message": "But also my character is just an underling who would obviously raise her concerns when asked" }, { "author": "uss_yorktown", "message": "You use that trust to take what you need\n\nTotally get it. But if it's something we know IC, I'm more inclined to say \"Not gonna happen\" Just from the character's perspective" }, { "author": "palipocket", "message": "Yeah but Aviana and niles Can give that feedback IRP\n\nIt's up to their boss to take it" }, { "author": "uss_yorktown", "message": "\"Your Grace, are you insane?\"" }, { "author": "beef3014", "message": "If it's any consolation I am always open to giving you PTK to have Galinheiros assassinated frfr" }, { "author": "caleb.gui", "message": "Johannes would listen to actual senior members" }, { "author": "palipocket", "message": "Oh then yeah they say all of this" }, { "author": "caleb.gui", "message": "Assassinating him now makes no sense" }, { "author": "uss_yorktown", "message": "Me too with regards to Astalios." }, { "author": "beef3014", "message": "Clearly you must kill all the nobles\n\nAssassinate everyone" }, { "author": "palipocket", "message": "Me too with Alithia" }, { "author": "uss_yorktown", "message": "I've never had PTK for any of my characters." }, { "author": "palipocket", "message": "If the work is done and she should die she's dead" }, { "author": "beef3014", "message": "More fun if they can actually die" }, { "author": "uss_yorktown", "message": "If they die they die" }, { "author": "beef3014", "message": "Plus death scenes are cool" }, { "author": "caleb.gui", "message": "Because random killings is dumb" }, { "author": "palipocket", "message": "Rtk means if there's a reason then you're dead" }, { "author": "beef3014", "message": "Also most of my characters are hard to kill" }, { "author": "caleb.gui", "message": "Yeah, so, Assassination would fall under RTK" }, { "author": "uss_yorktown", "message": "RIght, this is what I mean - it won't make sense any time soon because at best Delsandra is just insane and also super anti-Gantrick and Zora is sensible and will know some shit is up if two members of the royal family start dropping like flies\n\nHe'd run into this problem for practically everyone he'd want to replace - in the end there'll be no more nobles in Thyseer" }, { "author": "caleb.gui", "message": "This is why I wanna run that Tournament\n\nImprove Gantrick's international visage" }, { "author": "uss_yorktown", "message": "RIP the world ending tho lmao\n\nI think we're pretty much running with what we got" }, { "author": "caleb.gui", "message": "God, I wanna do so much spy shit in Prythian\n\nIt's just the server plot\n\nIsn't moving presently" }, { "author": "uss_yorktown", "message": "Fuck if I was a spymaster I'd give an arm and a leg to get an operative in there" }, { "author": "caleb.gui", "message": "Like I'd drop ALL this Khisfire/Thyseer stuff" }, { "author": "uss_yorktown", "message": "Sadly we don't know where it is" }, { "author": "caleb.gui", "message": "We don't, and I think that isn't happening soon\n\nSo we either sit here and do nothing\n\nOr we decide to do our own stuff" }, { "author": "beef3014", "message": "Even though nobody technically knows it even exists, Johannes is a schizo Azmondious mf so he has prob sent a few failed voyages" }, { "author": "uss_yorktown", "message": "I think what we've got to do is (not nothing) wait for the opportunity.\n\nSpies work best when they place themselves so that opportunities fall to them\n\nBut don't actively pursue\n\nYou try too hard there's not a chance\n\nYou keep your eyes open for one" }, { "author": "caleb.gui", "message": "That's the issue.\nHow long we gunna wait?\n\nShit dude, I don't even see Vasili doing many evil acts and he's supposed to he the worst\n\nGuess so. I know Khisfire is gunna get lit soon\n\nCuz Beef and I are in that chat lmao" }, { "author": "uss_yorktown", "message": "What have we got that we really want to know about\n\nHow other nations are responding to the crisis at Sorevelle\n\nYou could assign Niles to sneak into the palace and listen in on the queen\n\nAssign Aviana to talk it up and weasel details about it\n\nJohannes will be doing his job by feeding that info back to Alyus - giving him the edge in the negotiations and conferences to come\n\nIt's all about serving the king best\n\nHe'll know where everyone stands before they reveal it - he can plan and politick around those real positions instead of what they profess, basically beating them at their own game\n\nAnd to tie in with Khisfire" }, { "author": "caleb.gui", "message": "Right, so transform the \"Lets takeover Khisfire\" Plan into \"Lets know how everyone will deal with the panic\" Plan?\n\nSure, I can work with that. It _is_ the current most interesting thing presently" }, { "author": "uss_yorktown", "message": "We can take advantage of THEIR plans" }, { "author": "palipocket", "message": "Knowledge is the true power" }, { "author": "uss_yorktown", "message": "So an interesting thing to explore with Khisfire\n\nAzir verbally insulted and disrespected the entire international community on his kingdom's behalf, which I don't think Salahuddin will very much like to hear\n\nWe keep eyes on the family interaction, we can essentially learn how to play them off against each other\n\nRun interference, make sure they're miscommunicating in the ways that hurt them\n\nAnd suddenly we have the tools to erode the royal family's trust in each other\n\nMaybe we plant an operative or two (already embedded) as an advisor\n\nAnd now we have the ear of the royal family\n\nIt could theoretically work well" }, { "author": "caleb.gui", "message": "I like to imagine some purchased and or freed slaves have become workers in most castles" }, { "author": "uss_yorktown", "message": "But it all stems from information gathering\n\nWhich is the primary function of a spy network" }, { "author": "caleb.gui", "message": "When Lann was around, he straight up said Del hired freed slaves to help service the king\n\nYou know, servant things\n\nSo anyways, I'm just saying spies faking as slaves who're now working as servants isn't farfetched. Especially since Johannes helps \"Free\" Them— freeing actual slaves in the mix as to not directly fault him if someone gets caught" }, { "author": "uss_yorktown", "message": "I think the thing to note about this sequence of events is that we only have to listen\n\nNot far-fetched at all\n\nBut not every freed slave is a Malik Kafir, yk?" }, { "author": "caleb.gui", "message": "I do want to actively egg Sonika (Portan Duchess) to do something" }, { "author": "uss_yorktown", "message": "We'd probably need to have a Khisfirian native bought\n\nA free man probably noble\n\nWho's working for us" }, { "author": "caleb.gui", "message": "Again, Portan Duchess" }, { "author": "uss_yorktown", "message": "All we gotta do is watch her." }, { "author": "caleb.gui", "message": "She'd do anything to be in power" }, { "author": "uss_yorktown", "message": "She'll give us the tools\n\nBut tbh she's already a duchess - only thing we can do is attempt to set her up as queen\n\nWell, first, what are we getting in the bargain?\n\nAnd what stands in the way\n\nI'd imagine we get her\n\nBut honestly the last queen isn't a huge problem for Gantrick - again cost/benefit of being found out is very high\n\nIt has to be a big gain to take the risk of alienating Khisfire\n\nIf Salahuddin finds out and discovers our operation relations with Khisfire for the next two centuries are essentially kaput - we tried to plant an operative as his wife" }, { "author": "caleb.gui", "message": "OOC, I believe Cat wants to romance the Sultan and become Queen, and wedge the family apart" }, { "author": "palipocket", "message": "We. An say we're going to set her up as the new ruler" }, { "author": "caleb.gui", "message": "IRP, we know she wants something more than Portan" }, { "author": "uss_yorktown", "message": "We'll figure it out, but I think this is what we need to pin for later." }, { "author": "palipocket", "message": "Well tell her she gets what she puts in\n\nIf she puts in enough to help us actually make changes she can be part of those changes\n\nBut if there aren't changes we can't do anything for her\n\nWe're there helping her achieve her goals\n\nWhether she wants to or not" }, { "author": "caleb.gui", "message": "Alright, so enough about Khisfire right now then\n\nNiles and Avi. We'll have them talk to a few people to get some info on Sorevelle?" }, { "author": "uss_yorktown", "message": "I imagine because of they way they're embedded" }, { "author": "caleb.gui", "message": "Yeah, I just want to actually give you guys something to do IRP that either involves talking to another OC or me/someone else DMing a scene for you" }, { "author": "uss_yorktown", "message": "DMing a heist-type infiltration into Findara's palace is good enough for me on the spy front for now!" }, { "author": "palipocket", "message": "We have a scene rn with the two of us setting up a findaran noble dinner Aviana is probably going to" }, { "author": "uss_yorktown", "message": "She could ask around at that" }, { "author": "palipocket", "message": "She can bring Nile's in her pocket then set him loose eventually lmao\n\nThat's the biggest brain shit\n\nOh my gosh fly him long distances then drop him in\n\nLike tanner with the rancor" }, { "author": "uss_yorktown", "message": "But they don't know about each other" }, { "author": "palipocket", "message": "He's human by the bottom\n\nNo I said eventually" }, { "author": "caleb.gui", "message": "Alright sounds like you both got ideas lmfao" }, { "author": "uss_yorktown", "message": "But also that would kill the lizard and the man would be seen" }, { "author": "palipocket", "message": "I can't collaborate with York he is annoying" }, { "author": "caleb.gui", "message": "Like frankly all this stuff I'm suggesting is to give ppl working with me something to do. It's why I don't particularly care about the OOC implication of failure because there's no way the characters would know IRP" }, { "author": "uss_yorktown", "message": "She flies low enough it's TOTALLy possible\n\nRandom bird carrying food? Ez" }, { "author": "caleb.gui", "message": "Transmutation Magic the food into a feather\n\nBut it becomes a really heavy feather\n\nBird airdropping a lizard for a spy mission is a funny thought tho" }, { "author": "palipocket", "message": "Come on it's so funny" }, { "author": "uss_yorktown", "message": "It's why we made shifters though\n\nThe perfect camouflage\n\nWho carea bout the fly on the wall?\n\nMourning geckos are absolutely tiny" }, { "author": "palipocket", "message": "A good enough snack\n\nIt's okay, everyone has size problems sometimes" }, { "author": "uss_yorktown", "message": "So that's Niles's animal form" }, { "author": "caleb.gui", "message": "I imagine Johannes in his spy days he'd use to sit around as a goat for days" }, { "author": "uss_yorktown", "message": "Which means he's very easily missed\n\nSit around eat bugs listen to everything" }, { "author": "caleb.gui", "message": "A truly unassuming animal" }, { "author": "beef3014", "message": "Damn man out here flaming me\n\nOnce I'm done his current RP I promise I will do more evil shit" }, { "author": "caleb.gui", "message": "It's nothing against you dw" }, { "author": "beef3014", "message": "May even end said RP with a slave deal" }, { "author": "caleb.gui", "message": "I just feel the incentive to have the antagonists be... Antagonists is lacking" }, { "author": "beef3014", "message": "Oh no it's chill I'm fully /j\n\nYeah there's not much happening rn\n\nI really should get more active though" }, { "author": "caleb.gui", "message": "Especially since OOC we know they'll either fail to a degree, or get sidelined by server plot and Prythian" }, { "author": "beef3014", "message": "Haven't even had a single RP with Drogon Jesus" }, { "author": "caleb.gui", "message": "Johannes is meant to be my primary antagonist OC, which is why I'm doing most of this. He also has his own ambitions outside of making Gantrick #1\n\nBut that also comes with the issue or a particular Tsar not communicating what he wants" }, { "author": "beef3014", "message": "If only he had an heir\n\nVasili isn't particularly jazzed on him, and when he find out about Feyre that opinion will worsen" }, { "author": "caleb.gui", "message": "Actually I think this is fair to ping about.\n\n\n\nWe're talking about getting ears on how people are feeling about the Sorevelle situation, and working towards possibly getting someone aligned with us close to the new Sultan, but what is it that the Tsar wants specifically?\n\n~~I will help you~~" }, { "author": "zekhartha", "message": "I think for general reasons, Alyus since becoming king has not at all been communicative with his council, outside of probably his Grand Marshal.\n\nThat changes when he returns home.\n\nHis entire mind is set on nothing but Feyre, what the hell her magic is, and how he can use it (also, maybe, possibly, he loves her). In terms of finally utilizing his spies, he'd need to speak with them. I think what he'd want them to do right now is a few things;\n\n1. Keep an eye on Astalios, regardless of where he is. He is Alyus's biggest worry and the last person on earth he trusts in his own kingdom. \n2. When the time comes and Alyus leaves Feyre behind, he will want a trusted spy on her at all times to ensure she is safe.\n3. Investigate the Sorevelle situation more thoroughly, as Alyus was absent from the event. What people say is not always what actually happened." }, { "author": "uss_yorktown", "message": "Well, the first objective can be solved pretty easily - there are slaves and servants everywhere in Gantrick castle.\n\nJust make sure that the servants waiting on him are our operatives\n\nLikely they'll be dismissed from private discussions, but there are way to listen in on those - post a spy who's ideally a shifter with a VERY small animal form - maybe a mouse in the walls\n\nAnd you get 24/7 monitoring\n\n2.) Also rather easy - you might call Aviana or Niles and they can make excuses saying they're going on a trip or sabbatical or visiting family - whatever it might be. Then give the spy a mask and assign them to keep an eye on Feyre during Alyus's absence\n\n3.) We got a plan for that above.\n\nLooks like we can get our king's wishes done" } ]	19	7,261
386.235294	1776-07-04	GuildPublicThread	[ { "author": "Nargul", "message": "Blustering cold aside, the burly Orc began to enjoy the view of Gantrick. The spear-like trees, rolling white hills with their small white gales blowing between them like bridges. A quiet sort of beauty. All that was left now for the day was making it into the inn he came across through this narrow path to the south of the country. Warrenwell, the sign said. It was oaken and aged, as much as the rime-coated cobbles that made up the wall and the fortified planks that ascended above to a second and third floor that seemed to disappear in the pines.\n\nHe tilts his lips here, and there. He's had his fill of full-blooded, meat-headed Gantrick hospitality. It tried his patience more than most things in this place; usually, only the more predatory shifters bothered at this point, testing their gall against the Orc's guts, it felt like. No matter, Nargul thought, as he gave two pats to the Dire Wolf besides him.\n\nOn-marching up the winding steps to an awning and porch, the Orc expectantly felt that same apprehension as natives began to recognize an outsider. Few were the patrons today, and fewer still seemed to be those that'd make this a problem. A handful of coin at the door could buy tolerance for a short time- something he figured out early about these sorts of 'convictions.' He wouldn't miss the bonus, as he slipped inside with the even larger beast in tow." }, { "author": "Lohmar", "message": "The orange, black, and white wolf seemed as if Dasvaz itself reared a mascot, the bold colors similar to their flag. More strange, an amulet was worn around the beast's neck, fashioned of tough, coiled leather strips and a symbol of Anthron at its head. Still, it was eerily quiet, eyeing others that'd deign to look at Nargul for too long, tasting the air with a sure nose and shifting ears. But, it's demeanor was calm, in contrast to its alarming size. Among it were strange half-kin, the wolf recognizing the scent of beastmen and shifters once more." }, { "author": "Nargul", "message": "Surrounding the inn itself were a cairn of tall stones embedded deep in the cold stone below as if driven there by blows. Marking and scoring each were dozens of sigils and numerals denoting the passerbys that have come and gone, with sturdy painted cords as makeshift ribbons binding them.\n\nMore grim, but still nearer to the door was an ominous symbol. A skull of some fanged and savage looking beast, a clean and professional hole in its skull carved by a well-shot arrow that found it's mark long ago. Now, that cavern was filled with wax, as this demure decor was used as a candle, though more like a torch for the scale of the flame. A reminder that any inn to stand long in Gantrick is well-guarded, and best to not be tried by would-be bandits.\n\nOtherwise, a thousand other small signs of life surrounded this place, and in them ten-thousand tales were implied and whispered on each blowing wind that shuddered the trees surrounding it. A home among the mountains, an imperishable flame in the cold dark of the pass." }, { "author": "Arel Presthyra", "message": "While spending the entirety of their life within the gelid hellscape that was Gantrick, the Beastwalker had yet to partake in the true extent of the kingdom's natural elegance. Being effectively held captive under the despotic thumb of their family, they were exposed merely to the tedious monotony of Carnifex's structures with varying shades of brown, grey, and black, only broken by the ferocious blizzards that incessantly battered the city. But with their emancipation came a welcome change in scenery, a far more amicable environment that seemed as though it were a mural made reality, straining credulity. However, the bitter chill brought on by the setting sun soured the experience as they trotted through the densely packed snow atop their conjured equine mount. Without adequate defence against or shelter from the elements, they would meet quite the grisly demise, despite the spell cast upon themselves to provide warmth sufficient to survive the gruelling trek. Fortunately, a respite was within reach as they pursued the hearty aroma of smoke to the Warrenwell Inn. \n\nDismounting roughly a dozen meters from the entrance, the Shifter rather promptly felt the sceptical gaze of myriad strangers focus upon them simultaneously as their devoted steed dispersed into a cloud of cerulean particulates that soared upwards to paint the evening sky before fading into obscurity. Some faces returned to the tasks and conversations this interloper tore them from, while others continued to linger upon the Shapeshifter as they meekly trudged up wooden steps that gently creaked beneath them, leading to the sinister door. \n\nAs if their reception was not antagonistic enough. \n\nA wave of heat enveloped Arel when they crept inside as though they were in the maternal embrace of Solaris herself, a pleasant change, though they did not expect the clientele to be as warm and inviting. \n\n\"Close it quickly before you let all the hot air out.\" A gruff voice bellowed from behind the nearby bar count\n\nEr, and Arel quickly followed their suggestion." }, { "author": "Nargul", "message": "Woe to the wanderer. Each step up the wind-beaten path to the entrance would've felt colder and colder to Arel, as if the suspicions of those within were palpable. Though, the door itself, pocked by the impact of hail from storms over the years, swung open all the same with a heaving creak of strained hinges. Facing in, a wave of warmth seemed to drag Arel from their feet for a moment- a bliss, or blessing, or whatever it could be called; it was far better than the bitterness behind.\n\nHowever, stepping inside, here and there eyes slipped from cards, drinks, and cross-sat patrons to gaze over Arel's form. Sizing them up, even seeming to paint the room with their shared incredulity. It wasn't animosity-... Not yet. Though, all the same, some patrons seemed more pleasant in demeanor, if rarer. A kindly server wandered between tables, steps swift and dance-like as she made each stop another step in her rhythmic flow of service and stories to keep the patrons eating and drinking. She had given Arel a warm smile, beckoning them to a few open tables with a wave of her hand, but nothing more intrusive than that.\n\nThe gruff one behind the counter there seemed more beast than man, and had a stone amulet of a ram half-hidden between the gnarled forest of blackish chest hair that must've constituted a layer of clothing in itself. He barely gave Arel a second look, and seemed to be fixated on small tasks of maintenance to preserve the well-kept appearance of his bar. His domain, his own little kingdom.\n\nSeeming to have put his back to a wall, there was one figure that especially stood out as an oddity - even more than the pair of Goliaths making brief chatter about a hunt across the way. An Orc, with gray skin and a hulkish figure sat straight and alert, eyes slowly shifting in his head, side to side. Laying on the ground next to him was a massive wolf, which seemed to be tolerated only on account that removing it could mean-... Unwanted finalities." }, { "author": "Arel Presthyra", "message": "\"At least there's one friendly face.\"\n\nThese words resonated within Arel's mind as they met the server girl's gaze with their own, briefly nodding in acknowledgement of her offer whilst removing the thick fur gloves from their delicate hands. The revelation that they stood out amongst this crowd was not lost upon Arel as they glanced about at the gathering, who scrupulously assessed them. Their focus finally fell upon a towering Orc and his canine companion, the former of which had well beyond a head on the diminutive Shifter and appeared as if he could reduce them to a viscous red pulp if provoked. Luckily, he did not seem to possess any enmity for them, at least not yet, but they were not intent on generating friction between them. It was only when they started towards a vacant table far from the rest of the patrons that they realised the Orc's hound bore the colours of the Dasvan flag. \n\nPerhaps they were not the only peculiar transient in the Warrenwell after all. Still, regardless, their stomach tightened with apprehension as their mind ran rampant with the possible outcomes of their visit, very few pleasant. Perhaps entering this hostel would prove a misguided venture, but they were not intent on spending yet another holed up in the wilds of Gantrick at the mercy of the weather or whatever feral creatures lurked therein." }, { "author": "Nargul", "message": "Heavy fell the silence like the packing snow above. Arel's presence seemed to disrupt some imperceptible aura about the place, as more and more, other Shifters seemed to glance over their shoulder between drinks. One or two errant points, kept 'hidden' from under ribs or across the body. Certainly something to provoke tension and preserve it at the precipice of paranoia.\n\nNargul otherwise shifted his eyes, taking in the small little gestures, here and there. He seemed somewhat cognisant of-... Something. The large Orc's brow squited, lowering on his face almost like the image of a steel bar being flattened on an anvil. At least, that's what having a calloused face that looked like a personified battering ram would do for someone. The wolf besides also seems to lift in tension somewhat, a few bristled hairs sticking up along his back.\n\nAcross the way, between a large central firepit where staked small game roasted and stews bubbled, the little serving dance of the barmaid continued back to Arel, before the young woman placed her hands, and then forearms, on the table with a little tap-tap, leaning in to whisper. \"Are-... Are you staying? Do you need anything to eat or drink, dear?\"\n\nHer cautious smile implied- or belied, perhaps- the tension that seemed to sit behind her eyes. Once they flicked, over to another table, where four sat that seemed to have pointed at Arel the most of the bunch in this tavern. The barkeep seemed heedless, or perhaps complicit in whatever seemed to be brewing.\n\nThe barmaid spoke again, lower than before. \"Why don't you get something-... Small? Keep the coins hidden. Please. Please.\"\n\nAnd then, as the gentle drift of snow outside turned to a violent whorl of wind that rattled the walls, the sense of being trapped in would begin to settle deep in the wanderers' minds." }, { "author": "Arel Presthyra", "message": "In the face of the young barmaid's faux smirk, Arel's otherwise barren expression scantly broke as their thick brow furrowed in scepticism of what she had implied, clear as day. They observed the momentary flick of her gaze towards a relatively nearby table and followed suit, swiftly compiling a mental catalogue of those present, eyeing the stalwart barkeep's supposed blissful ignorance. As sure as this lass stood before them, the shifty band had openly fixed their collective attention on the Beastwalker. It did not take long to deduce that remaining within the tavern without adequately addressing the party would be ill-advised, and they would have to vacate the area, risking their death at the hands of the bitter temperatures, or mitigate the potential threat these four posed. \n\nThe fierce winds which now battered the Warrenwell curbed the former prospect. For all their skill as a wizard, they were no Solaris.\n\nWith a brief moment of meticulous deliberation, their mind spawned a collection of measures to be taken should they take action against them. The first and most direct was confrontation: engaging in a dialogue with the four and possibly reasoning with them, intimidating them, or otherwise inspiring them to let them be. Secondly was evasion: taking advantage of their proficiency with the school of illusion and eluding them, likely with the use of an invisibility spell. However, they were open to less subtle concealment methods should the circumstances demand them. Thirdly, their least desired option was bold and decisive action: raising a commotion and, as some may describe it, \"Dealing with conflicts the old-fashioned way.\" However, this was highly impractical, as they were highly outnumbered and utterly outclassed in terms of physicality and likely martial prowess, as the four appeared as if they were more than capable of holding their own in a fight.\n\nThat and they had never engaged in physical combat with another person, scraps with their mother and father not withstanding. \n\nThe trustworthiness of this fair maiden had also come into question, but Arel concluded that regardless of her alignment, their prior methods would, hopefully, remain sufficient. Finally, the Shifter inclined their head forward, their opiate voice being a mere wisp, akin to a gentle Findaran breeze.\n\n\"Avoid me, at least momentarily.\"" }, { "author": "Nargul", "message": "The rabbit-eared maid kept her fuzzy twin poles on a swivel, trying to make her evident alarm seem natural as the small, pink button nose she had tossed around nervous lips. She gave a nod to Arel, continuing on in her little dance. Perhaps she was simply observant from years of misfortunes on the frontier - maybe she finally wanted to try to stop it. Either way, before parting, the maid had slipped Arel a little piece of parchment. Inked on both sides, it looked to be a copy. Likely something replicated- but once opened, it appeared as a map of the winding paths underneath the inn itself, the warrens of the namesake. Small caverns one could use to traverse the crossroads ahead through the winding mountain path without an ignoble and ignorant death to the cold and heights.\n\nArel, attuned now to what was coming, that heightened perception that came with lucid anticipation, would note that the Orc aside wall had kept his sharp, now yellow-ish eyes peeled on the table of Shifters. Looking away only to avoid attention. Whatever the Orc thought- or if he was accomplice or foe- was hard to tell. A race known well for their slaveholding here in Gantrick was likely not a good impression.\n\nAnd so Arel went avoided by the barmaid, and as the barkeep seemed to watch with bleak eyes between two curling, caprine horns, one of the wolfish Shifters at the table of note slowly stood and began to approach Arel. It seemed-... Innocuous enough, for now. But then, the eyes were staring and stark, sizing Arel up even if the wolf-grin belied his intent behind a charming exterior. Between man and wolf was the huge, half-transformed figure, who loomed over Arel in their cloak, offering a far too long-lasting grin.\n\n\"My friends and I were just wondering where you came from - Carnifex? You don't look like you live around here.\" He was softly smelling them, assessing their blood in that strange way." }, { "author": "Arel Presthyra", "message": "The maiden's nervous demeanour lent the slightest modicum of credence to the notion that she was a friend rather than foe, but Arel would continue to eye her with harsh scepticism. Similarly, they scrutinised the parchment that lay before them, absorbing what little details they were able to whilst sneaking in periodic glares at the predatory Shifters who continued to observe them without regard for whether the young blonde knew. With the lack of any indication as to what location this was a map of, assuming its legitimacy, Arel needed clarification. For all they knew, this was the system of caverns on the opposite side of Lucidien. They likely would not receive clarification for some time, if at all, however. Still, they opted to set the map inside the travel pack that currently rested in their lap. Perhaps it may prove itself relevant.\n\nTheir concentration was now wholly fixated on the canid Beastwalker that approached with the most voracious of grins, which clearly served to belie his malintent. It was a smirk they knew all too well, as it was one their brother frequently wore, and it never had positive results. However, now was a poor time to focus on such details as he hovered over their diminutive form, well beyond twice their weight. No matter the tension they felt, Arel possessed an uncanny ability to remain seemingly apathetic in the face of those who chose to confront them, often inciting unease. This encounter was no exception, as they appeared to almost stare through the beast as he explained his purpose for engaging with them. No matter their course of action, they could not afford to appear vulnerable in the face of one who seemed wholly willing to exploit such a trait.\n\n\"You have as much business knowing where I'm from as him. None. Move on.\" They said, gesturing subtly towards the bovid barkeep." }, { "author": "Nargul", "message": "Where others would've had the wherewithal to withdraw, the wanderer hadn't wilted to weakness of the will. Now that Arel was looking and paying attention more closely - to the map, to the inn, to the Shifters aside that seemed now to be a pack of their own, they could surmise several suppositions.\n\nThe inn itself had an archway, lined by older stones near the bar itself, that inferred by faded text on guide-stones a pathway to the depths below, where the very same caverns that they saw scrawled on that note stood. Baths and paths - and many, many ways to break line of sight.\n\nAbove them now, the wolfish Shifter stood, a wide and toothy smile seeming all the more uncanny as he didn't blink, not a single time, with grey-yellow eyes like twisted storms peering down at them. They seemed unfettered by the words, though not wholly unaffected. A small twitch of the eye implied an irrtation that itched away at the would-be hunter, mugger, killer- whatever he and his companions were, that now likewise seemed to turn in their seats to watch the going-ons. The barkeep himself continued cleaning, and now seemed sincerely compliant with all this. For whatever reason; though it hardly mattered now.\n\nThe small sight of subtly stuffed knives and blades into belts and under cloaks from the cadre might well tell Arel what they could do. Hilts of well-worn leather, chipped blades. These men were well-guaded. Among them, all transfigured between beast and man, were a boar, a blackish bear, a hawk, and the wolf looming even now.\n\n—\n\nThere was however, an interesting sight that only Arel would see from their current position. The Orc, who had remained so quiet, was now looking at the back of the head of the wolf. Onto his knuckles slid a piece of metal, sockets for each of his huge fingers, so that a bar of cold iron sat as a heavy ram for his fist to slam into something. Back into his cloak his fist withdrew, as he aimed to catch Arel's eye and guide them to the arch." }, { "author": "Arel Presthyra", "message": "Dividing their attention briefly, Arel reflected once again upon the map, considering the possibility that they had dismissed it too rashly. However, concentrating would prove a considerable challenge as they gazed upon the fellow Shifter's devilish smirk and those harsh, unfaltering eyes that dared not blink and practically radiated contempt. Every visualisation of the map that entered their mind was supplanted with his detestable visage. To alleviate the palpable tension that threatened to suffocate them, Arel swallowed hard, though the thick collar of their black tunic obscured this action. Was this how they appeared to others? An enigma whose true intentions remained simultaneously indiscernible yet undoubtedly antagonistic? \n\nUltimately, they were able to loosely assemble a lay of the land, namely the stone-lined archway they took notice of but dismissed as they entered the tavern. Perhaps this map would provide them with safe refuge from this cadre, who Arel now realised were armed with blades of diverse sizes, but it could easily lead them to a dead end or an ambush. However, one thing was clear: they could not stay here and continue to test the wolf's patience. \n\nHowever, as they silently pondered their future course of action, they caught a glimpse of the hulking Orc out of the corner of their vision, not-so-subtly urging them toward the arch with his eyes, grey as the storm clouds outside. Acknowledging him, they chanced a glance in his direction, playing it off by fixating on the exit.\n\nThey did not expect an active threat so soon after abandoning home, but it was time to test the extent of their magical prowess. \n\nArel muttered an incoherent phrase under their breath, an innocuous action easily dismissed as the result of elevated anxiety. However, those more intimately familiar with the magical arts would recognise they were casting a spell utilising semantics. \n\n—\n\nThe spell was an unequivocal success, as they were now wholly invisible to all, leaving an identical illusory double behind who accurately mimicked the Arel's unique set of mannerisms. With the time bought by this, they swiftly strode for the archway." }, { "author": "Nargul", "message": "Over and oppressively still the wolf seemed to loom. The man chose to keep a mostly lupine face, so that the forced smile looked all the more like a feverish, flesh-hungry threat. The others of their cadre had fully turned to Arel, watching them as if somehow -they- were the antagonizer here.\n\nMany of the other guests seemed to remove themselves now- some at the nudging of the bunny-eared barmaid, who seemed desperate to keep what storm was brewing at bay - hopelessly, at that - but with each dance of her silent steps and wiggle of her waning ears, she seemed to clear the room in time. Perhaps something to judge, perhaps not - the circumstances called for collateral, in her mind, and she could bear less bloodshed if she couldn't have none at all.\n\nThe whisper of incantation filled Arel's mind with that familiar fugue of eldritch echoes. The magic flourished unnoticed, at first. Subtle as the space between stars, illusion preoccupied that strange, unreachable place of nothingness in the mind that few could truly contemplate. The Orc aside the way squinted, as the wolf perked one ear, before the former looked towards the archway, waiting- preparing.\n\nThere was a time that the wolfish one stood watching, before a sense of displacement between his eyes, his nose, and his ears came. Steps padded here and there, even the breath of those nearby- even their hearts rattling in their little chests came to his sharp senses. Then, the scent. It was trailing. The stink of a body wasn't here with this-... Something. No, it was behind him.\n\nThere was a sudden -clack!- as he snapped his jaws, snarling a moment as he turns suddenly, sniffing at the air and nodding to the others of the cadre. Words were exchanged and hissed in short, surly sentences; even blame and in-fighting came and went.\n\nBut soon, they got up and began to follow the sound of footsteps towards the archway, aiming to follow Arel down there- into imperiled depths of natural caverns.\n\nArel would find, past the archway, that a winding stair carved effortfully from exhausting eons of work left a roughly fashioned path down to unlit depths. The sound of running water came from below, as well as the sound of winds, distantly. Escape- outdoors. The passage of wind.\n\nThough, how they'd deal with the lowlight was up to them entirely. From behind, the small clacks of metal caps of boots, claws, and shoes followed - distantly at first, but then more hurriedly. They knew their way down here, and there were only so many paths and routes to take, with no telling which were reliable. Some corners were cubbies with odds-and-ends, like memorial urns and carved graves, or makeshift supply closets of draperies and miscellany. At times, the warrens opened into larger chambers of crags and river-split canyons of ebony granite, from multiple joining paths.\n\n—\n\nNargul stood after a time of counting in his eye. With Lohmar in tow, he moved from his corner over to the archway, before the barkeep finally seemed to take notice and try to intervene. A sharp condemning bark told the Orc to press no further - but a returned stare from that Orc's grey eyes put the ram-man on his back leg.\n\n\"Find your heart. You could not stand to them. Your word means nothing to me.\" Nargul says, contemptuous of this inn's strange arrangement of bandits and ransom. Now, finally, he had a chance to attack it directly, with the arrival of a stranger. Turning and wandering below, he began to stalk deeper into the warrens, hunting the hunters with Lohmar in tow.\n\n—\n\nThat left the barkeep only to sneer back a lip - he looked at a once-wielded mace under his counter. And thought." }, { "author": "Arel Presthyra", "message": "As Arel scampered down the spiral stairwell into the warrens, a frigid draft emerged from the depths, washing away the warmth from the tavern like writing on the sands of a beachfront. Hopefully, their illusory double had bought them time sufficient to slip away from their harassers. However, they were well aware that as Beastwalkers, they would possess a significantly bolstered sense of smell and likely sight that would assist the group if they decided to pursue them. And most unfortunately for them, their spell of invisibility had worn off, negating their sole advantage. As they finally arrived at the bottom of the stairwell, Arel's pace slowed as they took advantage of their acute hearing to determine whether they had been followed. Until then, they remained perfectly still in the shadows, careful not to make any more noise than they already had.\n\nThe idea occurred to them as their eyes adjusted to the new darkness: placing an obstruction behind themselves to deter, halt, or, at the bare minimum, hinder the progress of their pursuers. With their arcane knowledge, they had a myriad of options at their disposal to accomplish this: everything from glyphs to be \"Armed\" With elemental magic or other spells, conjured allies to resist them, to illusions that would confound and disorient. While busy deliberating over their options, the hurried metallic clattering of boots reached their ears, forcing them to come to a decision.\n\nWith a brief gesture and incantation, the Shifter placed a nigh-invisible glyph armed with acid at the bottom of the stairs, their mind once again filled with familiar eldritch echoes. While they were against making unfounded assumptions, the current circumstances demanded swift action, and no member of their party seemed magically inclined, so this snare would go unnoticed until it was too late. \n\n—\n\nWith their admittedly pathetic trap set, they started further into the shadows, deducing that a draft's presence meant a nearby opening to the outside world. Precisely where they hadn't the slightest clue, but this would not dissuade them from searching." }, { "author": "Nargul", "message": "The warrens well warned of that worry even the weary had to wonder at - becoming lost. Besides the winds, which now seemed to whip wildly with each whorl around worn corner and belie direction, the darkness was constantly shifting from small flecks of flame along the walls. Likely passages to cellars where drinks were stored. Arel's breath sounded heavy here, even if they didn't breathe especially hard. It was as if it was foreign here, the sound amplified against the distinct howl of hoarse gales.\n\nFor a time, that precarious sound of pursuit fell-... Discomposingly quiet. It was hard to place against the other sounds, though that wouldn't deter Arel from their task. A rune etched itself, almost unseen to the mage themselves by the darkness abound, into cold and callous stone. And once the sound of pursuit picked up, closer and closer still, Arel would sense steps slipping closer and closer to it, until...\n\n-VssssshhhhrooOO!-\n\nThe sound of the rune activating was a strange, arcane thing. The well-guarded boar that stepped on it stepped back-... But not so swiftly as to avoid harm. Ropes of viscous and searing acids sprayed upwards, ripping through cloth and smoldering leathers into ruin, and scarring flesh that it touched into a stinking, pestilent line of pus-filled scars, almost immediately scarring from the disfiguring element. The shriek filled the caverns, enough to pain the ears of Arel and any others within. Swiftly shut up by the clasp of the Wolf's grip over his muzzle, something was thrown in Arel's direction.\n\nIt was cold, down here. Painfully so. And what came wasn't some great concoction of magic - nor was it particularly accurate. It was a large vessel of water. With a surprising -crack!-, there'd be the risk of ice-cold, bone-chilling water suddenly coating Arel, or part of them, which would mean a rapid increase in breath, a stink of sweat as the body shivers and tries to warm itself, and the risk of discovery by dripping water.\n\n—\n\nOne of the Shifts in pursuit spoke, then. It was a cold voice, seeking to trick and terrify both.\n\n\"You! I see you- Come out, and we'll only break your teeth for that. If I have to find you-... You'll never be able to look at a mirror again. You! - Get out here. I see you.\" The voice seemed to echo loudly, beyond-... Normal. Nothing so subdued as incantation, it seeked like the natural endeavor of a ranger's gifts, perhaps. The echo of a wolf's howl came from behind it, challenging at the heart as the four began to spread out, taking different paths in the larger warren, each using their senses to try and find Arel. In their hands were cruel, carving blades. Ones that looked just as built for scalping and severing as stabbing." }, { "author": "Lohmar", "message": "From above, lurking distantly, a wolf now sat in the silence that only a trueborn predator would have in such a place. His claws never even so much as tapped the surface, his massive body one with shadows as briefly - depending on where they were - his golden eyes would be visible to Arel far, far behind the group of four. Fur bristled in silence, and Lohmar prepared his own swords, jaw opening slowly." }, { "author": "Nargul", "message": "And the Orc likewise kept his body close to a wall, guiding himself by half an arm's distance from it, to maximize his line of sight around corners. In one hand, the knuckleduster remained sat heavy on his knuckles, a dagger held in his grip. He was slowly circling in, waiting for an opportune moment as the smoldering smell of flesh briefly buried any of their scents.\n\nThough, Arel might also be able to tell that they were hefting more vessels of water, likely aiming to catch Arel and make them freeze to death or cast something now close enough that they could hear closely. Or even worse - move and reveal themselves to the sight-tracking eyes of the wolf, bear, eagle, and boar." } ]	424	6,566
945.571429	1776-07-04	GuildPublicThread	[ { "author": "The Fable Keeper", "message": "The Gantrick sun had begun to freeze over behind big, chilling clouds that slowly rippled and covered the sky. Encased in an endless winter storm, the Morthal Mountains held winds of frigid temperatures. Blistering through the dense trees, whistling upon the mountain tops– it's hard to imagine life even residing in the relentless thicket. Only the most sturdy of creatures can be found nestling about within the blizzard filled forest, humans and monsters alike avoiding the wild, harsh environment. Nevertheless, a tribal band known as the Svenn clan owns the icy mountains better than any animal or man. Their bodies capable of withstanding the drastic change in weather. \n\n Many Gantrickans stray from the Svenns due to their savage way of living; amongst the obvious reasons, most do not dare to travel so far out into a blistering storm. The kingdom of ice was already a dangerous place outside of the capital, and those who lived within its walls knew the areas in which one should never traverse. Needless to say, the barbarian shifters ruled their lands like kings. Wild bears ready to tear into the first meal they set their eyes upon. While prey is typically scarce upon the mountain, the Svenn clan won't hesitate to travel out in search of resources... \n\n Now, with the white moon ready to rise from its slumber, all of Gantrick would fall still. The biting wind dwindling into a low hum across the tall pine trees. Heavy snowflakes danced to the sway of their descent, slow and elegant. It would seem as though the world was at peace. Until... \n\n\n_ _\n\nTwigs snapped under a crushing force of a body being shoved atop a slippery slope. Flashes of tangled white hair spewed across the bushels of fir, dirt kicking up small rocks and branches in the wake of flesh toppling and summer-salting into a divot. Standing overhead stood two husky males, both donning tribal furs and black paint smudged across their faces. The silence between them as their hollow eyes burned onto the young girl who laid deathly still, her face in the ground like a corpse buried in the dirt. It wasn't long however, before her fragile frame came to life. Her weak limbs struggling to withhold her weight as she pushed up from the muddied, snow covered terrain. \n\n\"We told you to bring back Meat, Adeena. Not this shriveled up sack of Shit.\" \n\nThe taller barbarian with a shaved scalp and red beard extended his fist, holding out a small brown pouch that was quickly tossed upside down– handfuls of herbs showering down onto Adeena Svenn. A low scoff echoed from the male's companion as he crossed his hands across his chest, a scowl rearing his upper lip. \" I don't know why Eilivur even trusted her to go scavenging. I mean look at her, she won't even kill a rabbit!\" Guttural growls protested from the shifters' throats as if their blood was boiling. This wasn't the first time the clan members had expressed their distaste for their leader's daughter, although, it would seem as though this time would be their breaking point. As if listening to a voice embedded deep in the barbarians head, the first man swiveled his jaw in contemplation; his eyes growing darker. \n\n\"What do they expect from us now? To starve?! How are we supposed to survive on leaves and dirty water, huh? You know... You've been holding us back for months, Adeena. Your father may not notice but I have...\" \n_ _\n\n\"Yeah, you know, you're right...\" His brother chimed in. A noticeable twitch of anger wrangling his frostbitten nose. \"What if, we just make this little problem Disappear. Hmm?\" Jerking those beady black eyes to the eldest, a wicked silence stirred within the forest before the barbarian set his cold gaze upon Adeena. A look of warning, a promise of a threat. He'd allow her the mercy of getting to her feet before uttering the simple word, \"Run.\" Followed by the breaking of the ground beneath the brothers as their faces would soon shift, their clothes ripping from the seams. White fur molded where flesh once sat, gruesome maws replacing their human features. Heavy thumps of weighed paws sank into the snow before a loud roar of a beast shook the lifeless trees around the clearing, urging the young woman to retreat or hide. Her parents had no idea, but tonight could be the very end of a Svenn. Their very own daughter. \n\|\|" }, { "author": "lunewyn", "message": "The small girl gulped. \nShe knew her clanmates wouldn't be happy with her lack of meat, but she didn't realize they would be This Upset. Alas, she should've expected nothing less from Samir and Ivar. The duo were by far the most savage out of her entire clan. While her clan was a ferocious bunch, Adeena never quite cared for their way of living. Samir and Ivan were as close as brothers, as most of her clan was. Yet, she wasn't sure why her father had paired her with the two of them, Elivur knew how they were. She supposed it could have been a play to toughen her up. \n\nA low growl cut through the air like ice and Adeena inhaled sharply. Adeena would not Die today. The girl knew the Morthal forests and caves like the back of her hand. She and Poe, her griffin, would explore them together, foraging for herbs in caves and looking for scraps of bone for her jewelry. Looking around swiftly, she concluded that there was a small cave about a half mile away, one with an entrance so small that she knew Samir and Ivan's large bodies couldn't fit through. She just had to get there until her father realized what was going on. She could do it.\n\nAdeena knew that she was faster in her animal form, but she would be rather vulnerable while she shifted. Any shifter was. So, she ran on her two bare feet instead. The shifters immediately began their chase of cat and mouse. Running away from any sort of predator wasn't a wise move. All it did was excite them. Adeena knew this, but she had no choice; she was the prey. \n\nBears nipping at her heels, Adeena scrambled for purchase on a large oak. She was an excellent climber, and while she knew bears could climb, they were slow at it. When she was crouched on a branch about halfway up the tree, she heard a familiar crunch of bones below her.\n\n\"Come down from there, little bird!\" Ivar called upwards while Samir began to climb the oak in his bear form. \n\nAdeena let out a breath, steam billowing out of her mouth. She had an idea, but it may cost her precious time that she couldn't afford to lose. \n\nSamir was halfway up the trunk now. \n\nThe fragile girl quickly made a decision. She grunted as she shifted, her bones cracking and reforming into the shape of an Arctic fox. \n\nIvar snorted. \"Oh look, Sam,\" He snickered, \"Whatever will we do.\" \n\nAdeena growled and leaped off her branch, landing in a pile of fluffy snow at the base of the tree about a foot away from Ivar. Gathering herself, the fox quickly shook herself off and made a run for the cave nearby. On her way, she grabbed her pouch with her snout, gathering the herbs. She had found the herbs near the frozen river. Her father had a twinge in his foot for years, and this was the only thing she has found that calmed it. \n\nIvar shouted and when Adeena looked back, he was already shifted and Samir was on the ground. Bears were fast, but a fox was faster. \n\n... \n\nApproaching the cave, Adeena made the mistake of looking back once more. Ivar and Samir were on her heels. She wasn't used to running this far and fast. Adeena dove for the tiny entrance of the cave, her pouch and herbs going flying and she began to shimmy herself into the entrance.\n\n She was almost safe when a blinding white pain erupted from her ankle.\n\nThe fox emitted a high-pitched whine. The excruciating pain caused Adeena to shift back to her human form. The antlers from the deer skull on her head got caught on the ceiling of the entrance, resulting in another bout of pain, this time originating from her head. Adeena forced herself to gaze backward.\n\nIvar had Adeena's foot in his bloody mouth, small waves of crimson trickling down the side of her ankle. Samir was beside him, his eyes wide and full of hunger. \n\n\"Please,\" Adeena begged, attempting to pull herself further into the cave entrance. Her fingernails splintered, bleeding from clawing at the rocks. The more she tried to pull herself, the more Ivar pulled and tightened the grip of his jaw.\n\nAdeena had tears trickling down her freckled face. This Couldn't Be how she died. She hadn't explored beyond the forest, hadn't tasted freedom, hadn't found love. But the more the pain came, the more the girl lost hope of ever escaping from the grasp of her own ruthless clanmates." }, { "author": "The Fable Keeper", "message": "Flocks of birds disbursed from shaken trees in an attempt to escape the oncoming danger that grew in size from the forest floor. If there were creatures still lurking within these woods, Ivar and Samir had surely scared them off. Now, the entire clearing was their playground. And Adeena was their new toy to tear to shreds. Thrumming paws stomped the ground like a stampede of hungry marrow eaters. The twin bears traversing through the tall trees with a terrifying speed. Adeena's four legs padded with a swiftness that happened to be just enough to put her in the lead, heavy pants of hot air licking her fur like a scolding fire. The click of the bear's teeth echoed at the Snap Of their strong jaws, just barely close enough to graze the surface of the girl's tail. \n\n Throughout all the torment that Adeena was facing, an unsuspected creature had been circling from up above. High in the pepper clouded sky, soaring with outstretched wings, lingered a single black crow. From the distance in which the bird was roaming, their dark brown orbs dilated and flickered wildly as they watched the two beasts seizing their prey. An intelligent bird would simply mosey along, unbothered by the effects of nature and her brutal way of life. However, as the lone crow rested itself upon a nearby tree branch, they noticed these bears weren't just trying to maw a fox... But a girl. Bobbing its head around quickly as if peering through the leaves. The bird let out a few sharp cries before taking off to the sky once more. \n_ _\n\nSamir and Ivar likely didn't care to pay much attention to their surroundings, at least, not when their revenge was so close they could taste it. Ivar, who held the young shifter's human leg in his mouth, resisted the fatal urge to snap her limbs in two. Those beady black eyes narrowed as a reverberating growl shook the cave to its core- pebbles shuddering and slipping down onto Adeena's head. \"Get her out already!\" Samir demanded, his voice a booming peal of thunder. Thick saliva was beginning to pool from his bright pink gums, those teeth chattering to sink into something warm. Pain was surely engulfing Adeena by now, her ankle blooming a bruising purple. \n\nRight as the bear began to drag her out from the cramped cave, all Svenn would come to see is a ball of pitch black plummeting into Ivar's face. A scream voiced in two rang out into the sky, one of a whimpered roar, the other, a mighty sharp cry of a crow. Ultimately, Ivar's mouth was removed from Adeena's leg. Velvety wings flapped together violently as the black bird gained traction upon the white bears head. Among all the swatting he tried to do, nothing could stop the crow's swift movements. Within mere seconds, it's claws were driving into the beats eye socket. He shrieked and jerked about as its beak came hammering down and yanked out his eyeball, the base trailing a bloody root.\n\nDark scarlet blood gushed from Ivar's empty socket, coating his clean white fur with the stain of red. Finally, he reared back in a hailing scream. Enough to cause the crow to flutter back into the air, but it would seem as though they weren't quite done yet... \n_ _" }, { "author": "Morrigan \| The Crow Mother", "message": "A gentle Whooshh Of black magic sprinkled the air where the crow was hovering. It encased its entire being before a new shadow appeared. Only, this one was no animal. No, this was something worse. \n\nStanding high as the mountains, an elven woman appeared through the black mist that was evaporating in the wind. A tall frame with hair as dark as ink lathered upon a quill, and eyes that reflected the lights rays– Beaming emeralds. The stranger's attire was striking in appearance, it pulled everyone's attention toward her and away from the havoc. One single black robe with gold runic trim wrapped warmly over her beautifully arched body. Long black feathers protruded from the neck base of the gown, starting at the center of her breasts and around the back of her neck and shoulders. All real of course, though likely not her own as they were meant to be a vivid display. The curves from her exposed hips carved through the slits in her silks, symbolic tattoos trailing across her skin like winding valleys yet to be explored. Upon her waist laid an assortment of bottles and pouches, all attached to a slinging belt made of what appeared to be an animal's skin.\n\nSamir held the woman's gaze completely dumbfounded, though fear was slowly seeping into his widened pupils the moment he began to realize just who was before him. Shifting his sights with haste towards his brother, Ivar was still left hollering over his dismembered face. Fallen on his side, the barbarian had shifted back into his human form. A massive wound left gaping from the base of his forehead to the end of his cheekbone– and right through his eye. \n_ _\n\n\"Look, we don't want any trouble.\" Sam uttered through a clenched jaw. He refused to shift for the off chance he was to engage in a brawl, but as the raven haired woman stepped forwards– He moved back Her movements were swift, like that of a bird. Those gleaming mignonette orbs pinned against Adeena intensely before jerking back to face the brothers. Her head slowly shifted to one side, layers of jet black hair spilling from her shoulders. \"I don't believe She Was looking for any either.\" Just as the stranger spoke, both men visibly tensed. Her voice sounded as if multiple others were conjuring the same words at the same time. A stern, demanding tone, harsh in the accent of the north. \n\nPerhaps Adeena didn't know the one who stood before her, but the rest of her clan mates did. She was Morrigan, The Crow Mother. A ruthless witch from Gantrick that plagued the wilds. One that most stayed clear of, her omens of death a nightmare to be met with. Morrigan remained still as she surveyed the two; a stone cold expression painted across her pale face. \" We suggest you hurry home now, before you are sent on your way blind and starving for release.\" \n\nThere was no hint of any emotion upon her face as she laid out their fate. This was no idle threat, this was a demand. Samir's big black nose twitched at the thought. He would not stand for he or his brother to be challenged in such a way. But yet, something deep within him was telling him to flee. A heavy snort of air puffed from the bear's nose as he shifted on his right, heading for his brother to safely carry on his back. Ivar was still wincing in pain as he climbed along the back of Samir, burying his face into the beast walker's fur. \"Don't bother coming back home, little fox. You're as good as dead to us.\" Sam growled out from behind his shoulder. And with that, the two trailed off back towards the mountain tops. \n_ _\n\nMorrigan never moved from her spot in the snow as she watched the barbarians leave. Her narrow nose lifted towards the trees to ensure their scent was gone. By the time she could no longer sense danger around, the witch then made her move towards Adeena– Slow and careful. Without much of a word, Mor knelt down, inspecting the young girl like a bird examining their food. When her hands stretched out to touch Adeena's leg, she could feel Mor's frigid skin– though it would likely feel cool against the painful sting. After seeing how deep the marks were, Morrigan reached into her pouch to pull out a simple white cloth and a clear glass bottle of transparent liquid. \n\nDampening her rag, the witch gently padded it across Adeena's bloodied leg, cleaning the dirt and saliva clinging to her fragile skin. After it was prepared, Morrigan shifted her gaze towards Svenn, the silence defining. \"You are not like them.\" Was all she seemed to say before gliding both hands over the hefty bite marks. A gentle green glow radiated from the Crow Mothers palms, and soon, Adeena would feel the throbbing pain soaking away the more the light shined. What would feel like a limb falling stiffly asleep, the shifters skin was beginning to slowly bubble together until the large gashes were nothing more that two small scrapes. The wounds were not fully healed, however, they were far better off than being left open. \n\nThe witch reached into her pouch one final time, pulling out a circular steel container. As she twisted off the cap and popped the lid, strong smells of earthly scents clung in the air. Neither good or bad, but wet and persistent. Morrigan scooped a decent size of what appeared to be mud onto her fingers, and without any hesitation, lathered it onto the girl's leg. The consistency dried within minutes, and soon it would crackle as it settled into Adeena's wounds. \n\n \"Leave it alone for the night. Come morning it will be as though you never had a scratch.\" \n_ _" }, { "author": "lunewyn", "message": "While the crow-like being healed her foot, Adeena's eyes were still alight with awe. The woman probably thought her mad. But the way the woman moved, how she spoke, the way she effortlessly fought off her attackers, the small girl was amazed. She wondered why the crow had stopped to help a little fox like herself. She hadn't done anything special to warrant this woman's attention. Yet, as Adeena thought, she figured she would do the same thing if she happened upon someone being attacked. Though, it wouldn't go nearly as well as this situation. Adeena knew the basics of fighting, and she was pretty decent with a bow and arrow, but she never resorted to violence. Plus, she was nowhere near efficient at fighting the way her clanmates were. Still, she knew if it came to it, she would die for someone who needed her help, stranger or not. \n\nAdeena winced as the creature before her applied pressure to her wound. She knew the woman was helping her, but she couldn't resist slightly pulling her foot away from the cold grasp. It was difficult to imagine that the creature was healing her after what just transpired with Ivar and Samir moments before. The woman was savage and ruthless, plucking out the eye of her clanmate, a barbaric bear shifter no less. Samir seemed to be terrified of the crow lady before the event even occurred. Adeena wasn't sure why. Yet, the creature was gentle with the pale girl. Still, Adeena couldn't help the small shot of fear that rippled through her body. What if this woman was toying with her? \n\n\"Th-Thank you,\" The girl squeaked out.\n\nAdeena thought back to what Samir growled while he was retreating like a little cub. Don't bother coming home, you're as good as dead to us. Samir and Ivar were probably conducting some elaborate lie to her father right this very minute. Of course, Elivur would most likely not believe anything that came from their mouths unless it came from his daughters. But what if the duo told her father she was dead? Would he come looking for her? Adeena had to get back. She needed to see her father. And Poe, dear Poe, he needed her. If she wasn't back soon, she had no doubt that Samir would kill the griffin. Her clanmates had been wanting to strip the meat off his bones ever since she brought him home from a snow squall. \n\nMaking a move to get up, Adeena grunted as her antlers screeched against the rock above her head. Pain flared from her ankle. She supposed a freshly healed wound still caused pain. She shrunk away when the creature narrowed her eyes, similar to a crow. How would she get out of this situation if the creature decided to turn against her?\n\n\"Please don't harm me,\" She whispered, so quiet she barely heard herself. \n\nAdeena wasn't one for conversation. In fact, she wasn't one to speak much in general. She was a quiet thing. She was under the impression it was wise to be seen not heard. It worked somewhat well within her clan. Because of her soft demeanor, it was difficult for the freckled girl to trust easily. All of her life, it was drilled into her that no one was to be trusted but the clan.\n\n\"Please,\" She whispered once more." }, { "author": "Morrigan \| The Crow Mother", "message": "Morrigan watched in silence as Adeena attempted to maneuver herself free from her cramped spot within the cave mouth. While the witch had little to no reading to what she was thinking, the young girl's words had seemingly struck the faintest twitch to her neutral state. It wasn't uncommon for people to beg for mercy when approached by the Phantom Queen. She had gotten used to that many years ago after word spread of the tragedy she made in her own clan. Blood and death followed her everywhere she went, and it would seem no one would dare give Morrigan the chance at a normal life because of it. \n\n Nevertheless, here she was, showing the smallest bit of kindness to prey. Like a deer caught in a tar trap– Adeena couldn't get out even if she used all her might. Her limbs suppressed under herself to keep from snapping her neck by the massive head piece on her skull. Mor had raised a brow as the fox pleaded for her life. That smallest whisper hitting her ears like a blade across her chest. Perhaps it was because she saw herself within Adeena. The fear and sorrow that lingered within the young woman's eyes was a pain as heartbreaking as it was beautiful. But Morrigan knew she hadn't truly tasted death. Her soul was still pure. \n\n Words needn't be said as the Crow Mother approached her once more. Her movements uncanny. Still and precise, with the gliding elegance of a dancer, Morrigan was on the beastwalker within seconds. She said nothing as she practically invited herself into the crawlspace with Svenn. Crawling atop her, tangling their limbs with one another. A heavy smell of spring rain and drizzling herbal potions danced off of Mor the closer she got to her prey. Hints of smoked lavender and bits of mint corralled Adeena's nose as the witch laid her chest upon her, looking up through thick lashes as she spoke. \"Stay still.\" \n_ _\n\nWatching her for a moment, Morrigan waited to ensure Adeena wasn't going to squirm from under her. Those glowing emerald eyes illuminated the space around them, allowing Morrigan to see exactly where this fox had managed to get herself stuck. Upon one of the Crow Mothers fingers rested a silver ring, one that was shaped like the claw of a beast, its nail stretched and curved. With nothing more than a simple incantation, a small flame was building at the base of her fingers, heating the metal until the claw was glowing a bright amber hue. Morrigan then lifted her index finger towards the top of Adeena's antlers, sawing away what little she could to save the rest. Soon, a gentle Clack Broke the silence, and Adeena would feel the tension in her neck and back finally lessen. She was free.\n\n Morrigan placed her palms back down before looking back to the girl, their faces mere inches from one another. Adeen could feel the witches breath kissing her skin, a chilling touch that likely sent goosebumps skipping along her flesh. \"Get as far as you can from here, little one... There is no telling when your monsters will come back to haunt you...\" \n\n Pushing back from her hips, the Crow Mother untangled herself from Adeena's body and stood once more. She brushed off the wet dirt from her knees, dusted off bits of her cloak, and without meeting the girl's gaze again, started to turn on her heels to leave. Little did the shifter know, but she was the first to be shown pure, gentle kindness from the witch. But just as she had come, she was leaving... \n\|\|" }, { "author": "lunewyn", "message": "Adeena watched with wide eyes at the gentleness she was given by the woman before her. When the witch had crawled upon her own small body, she had not been afraid. She felt Safe, Wrapped up in the witch's body, even if she was just helping her get free. She owed her life to this mysterious creature. She wouldn't forget that. Adeena silently reaches up upon her head, feeling the jagged edge of a broken antler, the other half still stuck to the cave ceiling. While she mourned the loss of a precious keepsake, she understood it needed to be done.\n\nThe girl sniffled, quickly wiping away a salty tear that had managed to escape. She couldn't give this woman anymore reason to think she was weak. Especially over something as trivial as a piece of clothing. The deer skull placed upon her head was precious to her. When she was just a child, she had met a beautiful buck, just as old as she was. He had been caught in one of her clan's traps. Adeena had been too small and weak to disarm the trap, so she had sat with the animal while its life passed from its eyes. The deer seemed to find peace within the child as its head lay on her lap. When her father had finally found her, it had been dark, the deer's body long gone and icicles growing on its antlers. Her father had let her keep the skull as a headpiece. She had wore it ever since. The deer's bones had also begun as a stepping stone for Adeena's jewelry making. From then on, Adeena had sworn she would never take the life of an innocent being.\n \nAdeena was thankful she still had most of the antlers left. She would make something up for the sharp edge when she reached her home. \"Thank you,\" She murmured, watching as the witch dusted herself off. Not wanting to bother the being any longer, she scurried off towards the direction of home.\n\n... \n\nAbout halfway to her clan's cave network, Adeena decided to make a small detour and collect some winterberries. She was hungry, and she had no doubt that Poe was hungry as well. Poe would eat almost anything, but sweet food like berries were his favorite. Sometimes, she would have to stash some of her own so the griffin wouldn't eat hers. The girl giggled at the thought. She hoped he was okay. He knew how to hide, she reassured herself.\n\nPlucking the dark red berries from their stems of a thistle bush, Adeena was careful not to prick herself. She knew from experience how painful it could be. After her pouch was full of berries, she plucked some extra ones and stuffed them in her mouth hurriedly. Sticky berry juice ran from the side of her mouth, dark as blood. Adeena, like most of her clan, were very messy eaters. They had no manners. Adeena had never grown up with them. In the wild, it was important to eat fast so your hunt couldn't be stolen. She licked the stray berry juice from her lips with a smile.\n\nOnce the girl's belly was full of winterberries, she continued to make the trek home. She smiled as she felt the powdery snow on the bottoms of her feet. She loved the feeling of fresh snow. With her clan being immune to the harsh cold, she never had a problem with finding warmth. To her, snow on her feet just felt wonderful. Poe enjoyed the snow as well, whether it be jumping into piles or making Poe-sized snow angels. In a hurry to return home and check up on her snow-loving griffin, Adeena hastened her steps.\n\nAdeena!\" A low voice called. Her father.\n\n\"Papa!\" Adeena shouted, running into Elivur's open arms.\n\n\"Little fox,\" He cooed, \"I thought you were dead,\" He whispered into her hair, as white as their surroundings. Adeena barely reached his chest. She was the smallest of her clan. It was one of the reasons she escaped Samir and Ivar's grasps for so long. She could maneuver places that they couldn't. \n\nPeeking around her father's bulky chest, Adeena spied Samir in the cave entrance, his eyes narrowed in warning. Don't you dare They read. The small girl swallowed. She wondered where Ivar was. \n\n\"I-I got lost,\" She whispered, looking to her feet. Her father looked down at her with questions in his own eyes. Elivur knew his daughter knew their home forests from front to back. But he didn't say anything in return. He trusted his daughter, his quiet little daughter, wasn't doing anything malicious. \n\nElivur let his daughter go from his arms, and instead leaned down and brought his calloused hands around her soft face. \"You are okay, Myszko,\" He whispered, placing a kiss on her forehead. Adeena leaned into his touch. She was okay, for now.\n\n...\n\nWhen Adeena entered her small cave that branched off from her father's, she was bombarded by a large flurry of fluff. \"Poe!\" She giggled, holding the chubby griffin to her face, inhaling his scent. Gods, she missed him. Poe let out a huff and nudged her face, his way of giving affection. \n\nSuddenly, the griffin's head stuck up, sniffing the air. His eyes narrowed on Adeena and he wiggled his fluffy body, wanting to be let down. The girl obliged. Poe pecked her foot and let out an irritated huff. \"Okay, okay, here,\" Addena laughed again. She reached into her pouch around her waist and removed a handful of winterberries. Poe's eyes widened and the creature began to stomp his little feet. Adeena crouched down and placed the berries on the cave floor while Poe began to feast. It seemed Poe was okay, too." } ]	964	6,619
433.846154	1776-07-04	GuildPublicThread	[ { "author": "Andreas Featherfall", "message": "Over the past month Andreas had been a bit more distant with others around him and had contemplated coming here for a long time. He'd even packed up enough supplies for a month if he really wanted to be here that long. Though now being here he was dreading it as he'd not been in Kara-Tur in a century. He could still remember the day clearly when he'd been driven out.\n\nThe day had been bright, the breeze had felt good on his wings. Something he didn't remember though at the time because of how he'd felt nothing but rage. He'd still been so stricken by grief from losing his brother, though he should have still been happy at the time as he had a little sister. His family was moving on and the world felt at peace and yet he didn't feel that peace or joy. He could still remember how he'd looked than, probably a lot different from what he looked now. Bright blonde hair that had been slicked back and short with wings so white just like most aasimar's had. It all seemed so different now compared to how he was a century ago.\n\nNow he was so different, his eyes no longer were full of light but looked human, a deep forest green with one having a slash of silver through the iris. His hair had been completely dark for years but slowly he would have some blonde back in it, longer now than what he'd ever been allowed to have with his fathers standards. Just like his wings showing his half fallen side of him. Dark and light mixing but no complete balance or a way to tip back into light. A tattoo of a flower going down his neck and over to his shoulder, a mistake on one of those nights he was high. Though he was unable to see how he looked or ever fully turn back the clock to redeem himself he'd gotten used to his life.\n-\n\nHe'd paid the price for his sins, least somewhat. There was probably a lot more he should have paid for but yet he wasn't going to turn himself in for things everywhere. Instead he just kept trying to do good since he had a long long time before he was going to die.\n\nNow back in Kara-Tur though he was hesitant, what if someone remembered his face? His wings sure stood out that he wasn't a pure aasimar, least not any more he was. Black wings that tappered into blueish white feathers at the end. Some of it he could hide saying he was a half but some things just weren't as easy to hide like black wings. Andreas had made his way through the trees, looking through them as he recalled where he'd found his brother. A tiefling... Someone who'd made his brother trust them only to kill him. Sometimes these were the memories that threw him over the edge, made him wish to... Do things again. Things to others and himself but it didn't do any good. Now he was here to see his brother, after a century he was just... He didn't know what he was going to do really. He didn't have any flowers to put on the grave and what could he even say? He just had let down all his family trying to get revenge that didn't happen. So for the moment because he was nervous and trying to decide what he was going to do, he'd be leaned against one of the trees as he smoked some Devil's Root, calming himself down a bit as he'd take a drag of it. He was glad it wasn't an illegal drug here like his other one he did when things became too rough for him, insomnia and nightmares made sleep usually far away but he would get a bit sometimes. Though today was not the worry for that. He just needed to decide what he was even going to do because so far he had nothing good to share with his brother." }, { "author": "Auraya Dawnstar", "message": "Kara-tar. A land she had not been to before. Living a somewhat sheltered life in a monistry, she had seldom been out to other places, spending her life in prayer and healing, preforming the arts of a faithful aasimar as one of her status should, but never really moving outside her safe enviroment. This had been the case for years, and indeed still now she is young for her age and many, many years lie before her, gods willing. \n\nHowever life for her has taken a different route, self inflicted she moved away from where she grew up and where she called home. As if by some force she left her safe place and has chosen a life of harship and travel. Of moving from place to place in search of the sick and towntrodden. Of those needing healing and aid; and she would give it to them. The calling to the healing arts cannot be banished from her, and refuse to be dimmed. Purity shines ever forth. \n\nThough... One can always take breaks. Such as now. Instead of flying back to the city, she has decided to take a few days rest in the heart of nature. She is no druid of course, but someone prone to the arts of life can appriciate nature's beauty. The creation formed by the gods fully on display in this forest. The forest she now walks in to survery and rest until her work continues. So here she is, walking through the trees and completely unaware she will find another in her path \n\nShe, however, is almost a complete and very stark contrast to him. Her wings are a solid gold, to the point they are glowing. Her hair and skin also glow a gold. But her eyes most of all. There are no pupils in them at all. Instead pools on light, shining forth. If there was any mark of inpurity or sin on her, it is not overty shown. Her clothing are robes of a cleric, pure white and rimmed with gold with a mark of her deity on it. Not appropriate clothing for a forest hike, but her attire none the less\n\nIndeed her coming is noted and cannot be missed as she walks through the forest. Her pleasent\n\nHumming is cut through at several moments by her singing also. She is obviously not a natural or training singer and it isn't perfect. But the voice of an aasimar is usually musical, as is the case her. Her soft voice rising and falling through the trees as she walks at a leasiurly pace, taking her time on barefoot, unaware of another smoking nearby" }, { "author": "Andreas Featherfall", "message": "Andreas was doubting himself a bit more as he knew coming back was never easy. Sure he knew that he starting to change in not being a fallen but he really was not able to be fully back. He'd lost any glow or way if being a aasimar and in truth he couldn't fully go back with the vampireism since the light would probably kill him if he was. This was a reason he was not normal, not after 60 years. He'd taken a risk to be one back in the day, he had never known if it would work but had been blinded for revenge to care if it killed him or not. It of course hadn't but it left him now in the mess he was in.\n\nTaking another drag from his smoke before he'd let out a slow exhale of smoke. His hearing always was more than the regular aasimar because of the vampirism but he counted it as good, since he couldn't do any of the healing or light work that he could before. Now all he had was heightened senses and speed, which he was guessing was all he thought he'd be able to do anymore. Though hearing someone singing and humming he'd look around a bit to see where it was coming from. Once knowing the direction he'd raise a brow as he didn't know why someone else was here. Most aasimar just flew over the forest and went on with their day, the forest was always just kind of forgotten and the wilds left alone. Though he also had been gone a long time so things could have changed.\n\nShrugging off his mind raising with questions, he'd stand up a bit straighter and look over at the stranger coming hims way. Seemed like one from the temple, a cleric no doubt. Though why one was here was even more strange because they didn't stick around a forest, was always in a temple or out doing healing work. This was their calling, least it was that or protecting places. Either one now made him more than wanting to step foot in such a place, he felt like he was deceptive when he worked on a holy place so he always chose more being a guard for some noble.\n-\n\nLeast a cleric would be less pushing him as some others would be once seeing his wings. Though least he had wings and they didn't all fall off. A bad time that had been because he couldn't even try to heal them at that point but now he least had them back... Waiting for the one to make their way to him he's just keep smoking, this did keep him calm but not so high he didn't realize anything he was doing. He didn't want to be that way when back in Kara-Tur." }, { "author": "Auraya Dawnstar", "message": "Her musing was one of slow and playful lethergy. She was obviously not in any rush. Though despite her pace indicating such, her mind was busy as ever. Her contimplation was that of grave import. She was thinking of the far off village she had returned from. Many miles in the hinterland she travelled to find many folk sick of Lungrot and other illnesses. While she was able to heal this; it heralds a grave truth. That most of these outlying villages will constantly be bombarded will illness and she can only do so much. A master in healing magic she may be. But there is only one of her... And many cannot fly at great speed. Communication that remote is limited and takes many days or weeks to travel. She may have saved lives, but how many more were lost when she was busy? \n\nThis of course racks her mind with guilt. Can she afford to be out here, enjoying a simple walk? While it is truth she must recover her magic, she did not have an infinite pool of spell casting. Still... There could be folk right now dying of illness! The guilt reaches to her core, like frost touches a flower. Her singing stops and her face becomes racked with sadness. The joy that was there becomes mellow. This would be clear to see on her silent watcher in the forest\n\nShe makes her way to him but not yet noticed him, merely in his path. For the other end she would be impossible to miss. Shining and glowing a brilliant gold against the green backdop makes her the most obvious thing for miles. Like a lighthouse against a dark sky. Though indeed in her walking she sniffs a strange odour. Her sadness is replaced by a look of frank confusion. What is it?" }, { "author": "Andreas Featherfall", "message": "Andreas watched the light of the Aasimar getting closer, a cheerful one it seemed for the most part but what did he know he'd not been in touch with his own kind in a century. Maybe things had changed more here, though he doubted much had changed for the Aasimar race, they all were usually the same with their thinking though. All being good, be light, yada yada yada. He knew the script but didn't care for it the same way. Sure he tried to be good now but he knew he couldn't just turn back to it. Not after what he'd seen or done through the years.\n\nHe'd watch as they got sad, a rare enough thing to see when just moments ago she was happy and singing. Something probably weighing her mind down, no doubt thinking she could do more. Most felt like that if they were part of the healing side of the Aasimar work like his mother had been. Though he was never part of it he'd seen how it had affected his mother at times... He'd shake his head to clear the memory, was no use worrying about such past things, they were all but long dead.\n\nTaking another drag from his cigarette he'd think of something to say yet wasn't long and he simply called out* \"I thought a Aasimar couldn't make such a face, guess even some of the high and mighty ones have feelings.\" Andreas was still a bit sored to his own race, being thrown out had done a lot of hurt back in the day but nothing was still as worse as a tiefling being around him. He was still unable to control his hate so he kept his distance from them. Much as how he'd stayed away from Kara-Tur till now." }, { "author": "Auraya Dawnstar", "message": "Indeed most saw Aasimar as high and mightly, lofty and above everyone else. It was a far way of thinking; as indeed most aasimar thought of themselves that way too. Even to the extent of thinking they are better than the other races. It was down to perspective, she thinks. After all, they are literally touched by divinity, other races couldn't claim that as much as the aasimar. Did that make them better? Maybe? Auraya for sure doesn't think so, but many of her race do, which has led to such a divide and even scorn for her race. In her opinion thinking like that does more harm to her race than good. Is a tiefling less as its touched by evil? Even if the person is good? Morality is a fickle thing \n\nBut indeed sadness does weigh down on her, and her expression reflects it. Though it has been paused by the smell of smoke, leading her to confusion. Though this is quickly dispelled as he calls out to her. It draws the gaze of those glowing pools of gold she uses as eyes. Pupillness, no fleck of any other colour. While some have brown eyes, blue, green, violet... With hers there us nothing but gold. Pure gold. Her gaze quickly looks to the cigarette and a soft smile crosses her face before she looks back to him. His words only have a moment in the air before she replies \n\n\"High only when flying, mighty? Perhaps in some ways, less than others. But bless the Gods we are touched with the gift of emotion.\" Her voice rings out. But her voice isn't clear, it sounds... Melodic, as if other voices are talking at the same time, musical and etheral. Her pace changes direction as she begins to head over to him. \"Hail friend, I didn't expect to find anyone else in these parts\"" }, { "author": "Andreas Featherfall", "message": "\"Oh but many still think they are the better race than others... Emotions I don't think are always a gift, actually more times than not they made us do many things one could regret later.\" Andreas would shake his head as he did not see her as a friend, he didn't see his own kind as even friendly after so long away from them. Maybe it could change but it wouldn't just happen for sure, he had too much pain that he was still working through.\n\nHe'd take another drag from his smoke as he thought about how she sounded. Was his own voice that annoying at one point? He couldn't remember to be honest after all this time. Which maybe was a good thing some of those memories were lost to his drugged out state. He didn't want to think about what all he'd done than either but he knew there was no doubt many regrets he'd made than, least he didn't think he had no kid from those years. Shaking his head a bit as he chuckled dryly at his own thoughts, he was not even safe around himself. Though less here if he ran out of his blood wine, he couldn't drink anyone's blood here.\n\n\"Well such a sad expression doesn't look good on you, miss. I would say you shouldn't shoulder so much, it does you no good to worry about things you can't control or change. I would say be glad for the some things you are able to help or fix.\" Andreas would smile a bit as he looked over at her, trying to be kind to his own kind was not a strong suit but he would try for now, it made him least not have to go to his families graves yet." }, { "author": "Auraya Dawnstar", "message": "\"Better?\" She asks in her choir like voice. Indeed, it gives it a very etheral edge, as if scores of angels and the very gates of paradise open as she speaks. Not merely here on this mortal coil, but her voice coming from another realm itself. Magestic? Certainly. Annoying? Perhaps. \"Better in some ways I assume, not in others. We cannot swim as the Triton do, I imagine they are better in that regard\" She says with a soft smile, her full red lips curling into a gentle and true smile. \"Of course your intent is not missed however. It is true many of us thing ourselves above the other races. But I think they miss the point of our race entirely if they think that...\" She comments \n\nWhile she might have regrets, it must be so that she has no lies in any regard, for that would surely mark her spotless form and take her on the road to become Fallen. The road from Aasimar to Fallen Aasimar is very short indeed, and she knows it all to well. Despite not having fallen; she cannot fear anything worse than that. Her ultimate goal is to ascend and become a Cesestial, a rare privlage for the few Aasimar who prove themselves. To fall would take that dream from her forever more \n\n\"Hmm... Your words hold merit I would say, and on the whole I am glad. But if one has the power to help, shouldn't it be duty to do it? My magic has not yet been spent, though I have used much on my last trip in healing, but I am not using the last of it, I'm here instead while there is those who need healing out there still... What then, should I do?\" She asks, and the question does seem to be a sincere ask for advice from him" }, { "author": "Andreas Featherfall", "message": "Andreas chuckled at how she seemed to want to make it seem like aasimar was not so good. It was a bit of a nice change to see someone else think that why. \"Aasimar are to be a great race, I don't find it so easy to see. Though you are a nice change of hearing the well being better than others.\" Andreas' wings would twitch behind himself as they unflarred a bit, a tic he had with having been on drugs of all sorts for a long time and always having little sleep with his insomnia. Not that he noticed he had such a thing.\n\n\"Wanting to help doesn't mean you kill yourself in order to do it, you can't help others if your dead now can you? You are young, you will learn that you save and help more people the more you allow yourself time to rest in between those times.\" He would exhale a puff a smoke as he studied this young aasimar. \"You shouldn't feel guilty for needing to rest, you never know when you might run into someone along those times that you might have completely missed or unable to help because you pushed yourself too far. Would offer you a smoke but I doubt you ever done such a thing.\"\n\nAndreas didn't know why he was feeling fine talking to one of his kind so easily, but he guessed he wanted to help her out. He felt a bit sorry that she felt she wasn't doing enough but so many were taught that way that it mudded their minds on true helping and learning when to rest. Of course he had been in the battle side but he saw it all too much on both sides. \"Rest than yoy can help more, so don't push yourself young one.\"" }, { "author": "Auraya Dawnstar", "message": "Her expression changes softly. Though her face is very expressive. On having skin unmarked and which literally glows; changes on it can be easily seen. Her expression turns softer and more thoughtful as she nods. \"I think too many of us forget that strength does not make one fit to lead, it makes one fit to serve. I can only hope in our long lives more will remember and pass that on to others.\" She says. Her eyes glancing to his movement of the wings of him. A light frown of curiosity comes across her face for a moment. But she is too afraid to comment on it. After all, he shows signs he has fallen, so it would be rude to ask about his wings. Or at least, so she thinks, especially after just meeting \n\nAt her being called young, she smiles deeply. \"You are right of course. It's funny to think I have lived more than other races entire lives... Yet to us I am still very young. It hurts your head if you think about it too much. But you speak the truth, I should rest to recover my magic... Otherwise I would fade and not have any when it is most needed. You are rather wise, and I should heed the advice of age.\" Did she always talk like a Victorian lady with that etheral voice? That could get annoying after a while. Or indeed it could be charming mark of her personality. It depends on perspective. At his half-offer of a smoke she does laugh. \"You would be right, I have never tried such a thing. Tell me; what is it like?\" \n\nHer conversation comes easy and without restriction. It seems despite his species or status, she cares not, and one can imagine she is like this with everyone she meets. Quick to engage in conversation and readily make friends with others. Added with his own ability to talk to her easily, it is no wonder conversation is flowing freely. It could have surely gone the other way and them being at odds, but this seems to be pleasent for both of them" }, { "author": "Andreas Featherfall", "message": "Andreas would listen to her he wouldn't exactly agree fully with the serving because of strength but he wasn't going to dispute her beliefs either as he wouldn't be around long enough to make any difference. Least that's how he saw it here. He couldn't live here again for sure since he wouldn't be getting blood easily in a place were technically his race and he shouldn't be a vampire. It was only by complete luck that he was changed.\n\nHe'd watch the aasimar frown a bit as he could only guess what she was thinking. It wouldn't be uncommon really for anyone to look at him with hate or disdain for his fallen path. \"You might as well get it over with asking or saying what you plan to, I'm not unused to the hate or disdain for what my wings look like.\"\n\nHe couldn't help but chuckle as how young and cute she was acting to it all. Sure she was no little kid but she still was young and had no doubt some years left if life was kind to her, not all of them even made it to 100. \"It's a hard lessen to learn but you will get used to realizing your limits and do the best with that time. It's not easy to do at times.\" He was not surprised she said no as he thought, not many took to drugs for the Aasimar race, least not unless a fallen one. \"Well for this it's calming as it's supposed to be, it's usually what I do it for.\" He wasn't going to reveal he did more than just this, or that he also used it for pain.\n\n\"So, since your a young one why did you chose the healing way vs the warrior way? There is more than one way for us, it's always interesting understanding what each are wanting to do. But that could also be me, I'm not around here very much anymore.\"" }, { "author": "Auraya Dawnstar", "message": "His question seems to confuse her, for once again that ageless face frowns. It is a... Strange sight. For how can a face without marks of age frown? What lines and wrinkles would signify such a gesture? Perhaps it would be confusing for younger races, he however, is most likely used to it. \"I don't understand...\" She beguns to say, but his mention of his wings brings understanding to her eyes, and her expression smothers to an apologetic shake of her head. \"Sir, I wouldn't ask such a thing. I merely saw them move and my eyes drawn to them. But I have no time for hate or disdain, will we would be unwise not to use our gift of emotion- I feel some are better than others, and those are ranked less indeed\" \n\nThough soon enough he mentions the drugs he is currently taking, and while she did refuse them, she doesn't regard them as vile, or as pure evil as some may see drugs as. \"And does it work? Why do you need it to calm yourself so?\" She asks. She is indeed young for her race, asking such questions but it shows off her polite and her curious nature at the same time. Though at least she didn't berate him for taking drugs or act all lofty and superior. Many, many aasimar would do such a thing if they caught him here \n\nHis next question however makes her smile, and her expression grows pensive. \"Well, I have knowledge of the warrior arts; especially against the undead, and use them when I must. But why healing? I suppose I feel like I'm adding to the world, if that makes sense. Death; no matter how just- is taking away from what is here. However healing is putting something back in. I suppose I think everyone's time on the world should be to add as must positive into the world before they go. So I guess that is what I am trying to do. What was it you did?\"" }, { "author": "Andreas Featherfall", "message": "Andreas would raise a brow as he didn't quite believe such a thing, she was still young enough that she would still be curious about things especially ones she hadn't seen. Taking another drag of his smoke before he let his wings stretch out, he knew his wings looked dark and was very easy to show how he was. Though he was not evil like to her, he just didn't have much a care for violence usually. \"Andreas... The names Andreas Featherfall, and I know your curious even if you say you aren't. Your eyes are easy to read even if they are all bright.\" He would point to his own eyes as he knew his had no such light anymore but were normal eyes now.\n\n\"It works enough, can't say it fixes all of the problems one might have but it does lessen it. Easier to be numb than haunted, but nothing I can do to change that either.\" Andreas would look over towards the graveyard as he frowned a bit, he really didn't even know where all his family was in there. \n\n\"It sounds like you chose a good way to make a positive impact in life. Some think ending another that are evil will be a good thing... A lot of things make it difficult to understand through the years, lots of muddy water when it comes to the fine line. But it seems your on the right path, just remember to take care of yourself as well and enjoy life some. You never know when your time end...\" Andreas knew all too well his twins had been cut short and than his older brother had not made it either to a good age. He felt like he'd cheated his own way with now having the evil disease through his veins." } ]	391	5,640
479	1776-07-04	GuildPublicThread	[ { "author": "Vayra Vakara", "message": "_The Capital of Khisfire, Sol's Landing._\n\nBetween busy markets and buildings of numerous services, lay the common streets of Khisfire's Capital! Wanderers rich and poor, and those with their fates ultimately challenged by the numerous Thieves. A City with a clear reputation, but not one lost of its innocence and youth. \n\nA common corner place just a few buildings off of the center plaza would host a local gathering place of the Khisfiran youth. Where games were played, chatter exchanged and the future of Khisfire peacefully going day by day under Solaris' bright gaze. Yet, that attention would be caught by another. One, native to the sands, yet ever distant from her home far closer to the border territories.\n\nA Tiefling Woman. Young in her adulthood, but carrying far more experience than the audience she had considered today. A fang-filled smile highlighted with a gaze of gold, flutters of golden glitter further highlighting at her eyes and the Raven black locks draped long and often over one eye or along her shoulder. Her attire distinctly Khisfiran, perfectly suited for the heat and draped shamelessly so. - Albeit primed more for an Adventuring lifestyle. \n\nHer presence would catch clear attention, and soon her purpose clear. Setting herself up infront of the crowd of Khisfiran youth and adults all the same, an arm raised up in a relaxing slither. Fingers soon fluttering out as she dared with a smirk then the aura of a purplish hue dancing along her fingers. Her spare hand formerly clinging to a dash of silk at her hip, soon raising up to follow as in her mind began conjuring up the gentle waves of sand in illusory form. A crowd clearly caught, as a street performance began under the careful casting of Illusions by Vayra Vakara, the Trickster Adventurer!" }, { "author": "Soleil, The Yellow Mage", "message": "Sol's Landing,\n\nIt's been a time since the Yellow Mage traveled to the scorched land of Khisfire, but, this sandy kingdom, beneath its dunes, had troves of mysteries waiting to be uncovered. She remembered in her early years having excavated in the dunes, and having found an old Leteron castle— a place which held the dark and macabre, where tragedy befell her and her friends. After those events, she continued to return to Khisfire after that tragedy all those years ago, but, she wouldn't discover something to _that_ caliber in the centuries she has walked the world. Perhaps, deep down, she hoped there was nothing else to discover. That maybe ignorance is bliss. However she knew that there was more to be uncovered about ancient human civilization— so many arcane works and theories lost to the harsh sands of Khisfire simply awaiting to be found and shared with the world once again.\n\nThe Yellow Mage kept her apparel less thick in this region, as she hadn't wanted to suffer heat stroke. She wore her usual leather boots, with white baggy pants held by a yellow sash. Her top would be form fitting, a simple black top with sleeves which cut off at her biceps. Finally, of course, she wore her black robe, inlaid with chainmail links, with yellow threads which lined the seams. What was also notable was her gloves with gold studs which lined her knuckles— a more modern take on a magic foci, gold had been the element of purity, and acted as a conduit for magic. With these gloves she's be able to make hand signs far more effectively.\n\nShe would walk the streets, the silvery haired mage having kept her hood up as she scanned the area as she moved. Her one exposed eye, the other covered by an eyepatch, would catch wind of playful cheer and laughter.\n\nShe approached, then observed from outside the crowd which had been formed. A Tiefling dancer. She had been a gorgeous woman, the She-Elf watched the way her hips swayed, how she twirled and moved o' so freely. Her fingers fluttered as she produced an aura, creating illusory shapes and colours. How amazing!\n\nThe Yellow Mage would simply smile and watch closely. It was impressive— the dancer might have not realized it herself, but subtle casting wasn't common. No, most mages needed to at least whisper the verbal components of their spells, but this Illusionist hadn't been speaking. A rare talent, this dancer was.\n\nShe knew this to be true too, as a Master Diviner, she had the ability of True Sight. She would be able to pick apart and unveil the illusion which surrounded Vayra. She would observe no lip movement, and that alone spoke volumes to the dancer's talent. Soleil had an eye for observing diamonds in the rough, and so she simply waited until she had the opportunity to speak to the Tiefling woman.\n\n\"...Purple Hue, Sharp Pitch, Loose Weave...\" Soleil had simply muttered to herself— her words not meaning anything in particular to anymore, except to herself.\n\nShe couldn't help but feel eager to talk to Vayra now." }, { "author": "Vayra Vakara", "message": "All manner of observer watched and awaited the Tiefling in her environment. She was not taken by the crowd, but instead nestled within a world of her own. Every movement and step brought to life under the Grey-skinned woman's imagination. And thus, a show for others to witness. - Even a former Archmage.\n\nThe golden flicker of her eyes tracked at the crowd mid twirl, a fang-filled smile apparent as her right arm extended loosely and made a sprinkle-like motion, earning a fun little snicker from the Tiefling as she did. Droplets of the familiar purple magic would rain over the dancer, acting in sparkly fashion as her heel eased to a halt now facing the crowd. Droplets formerly raining down, forced to a halt as she quietly huffed behind the concentration of her spells. Still, dotted around the woman as the preparation for her next cast began.\n\nNo casting with her voice, instead the brief shut of her eyes and a raise of her right heel. Knee extended forward slightly, as her hands twirled in dance-like motion, soon extending forward. And there, she felt it! Her gaze returning to the crowd, a look of expectation clear as the dots of floating purple soon moved forward above the crowd. Slowing upon the motion of her hands disguised seamlessly with her dance, soon raising above her form with a jig of her silk-clad hip. And there, those small orbs ignited into satisfying sparkles! Catching the younger audience especially, and perhaps the older audience too at the satisfying display with some token of applause.\n.\n\nHer concentration caused a satisfied breath as she managed the channeling. The jangle of her golden jewelerry reflected well in the Solaris sun, her skin as much a showcase as the garb she wore. Her tail twirled against her leg in reaction to the applause, a playful bow of her head as her performance seemed to be nearing its climax. She had been performing for some time before Soleil's arrival it seemed, managing to catch this level of crowd happily enough. And with a final smile she beckoned the crowd for the finale, a finger at her lips to offer a playful shush in anticipation. Then, eyes shutting again. - Leg raising and knee bending to plant against the side of her other leg as she motioned a ball-like gesture between her hands. Coming together and twirling in unison. A final culmination muddled in the void that was her mind. Until.. BANG!\n\nThe sparkles above exploded out into a wild diversity of colour. - An audible cue to follow them as they reflected a sky painted by fireworks. Her final applause earned by the wonder of her audience, and Vayra managing a soft smile. Behind it however, the energy behind such a cast surely taking a toll. To the more experienced eye, Vayra was truly going all out for this simple crowd!\n\nAfter some time and the applause would the crowd cease and conversation exchanged. The Tiefling Dancer soon left to recuperate, although after been offered quite the number of drinks and coin. " }, { "author": "Soleil, The Yellow Mage", "message": "Soleil would continue to mutter to herself as she observed Vayra and her dance. The formula to her spells remained the same. Somatic component, the dance. Hue, purple, Illusion. Pitch sharp, creation of effects. Weave loose, the magic does not impose itself strongly onto reality. The gears in her mind turning as she was lost in the wonders of Mathematics and Arithmetic, studying the calculus of Vayra's dance.\n\nEach movement was in itself a working— instead of magic circles, the dancer used sets of movements, likely rehearsed over and over again to achieve the ability to cast without speaking— or, perhaps, the vocal component came down to breath? Soleil observed how Vayra breathed, how her movements although grand and beautiful were efficient— yes, that's what it was. Movement patterns and breathing likely had been the components used, whether Vayra knew it or not, to cast these illusions. Soleil felt confident in her study— but she had yet to reach a conclusion.\n\nSo now she just watched until the showing was over. Vayra was... Pretty. Her guise captivated the High Elf's eyes. And soon, fireworks! She watched as children laughed and people cheered; people began paying the dancer and leaving as Vayra's performance was over. Soleil lingered, until nobody remained, as she would approach.\n\nShe pulled out a few coins, extending it to Vayra. The woman's head remained shrouded by her hood, however that irradiant yellow eye would expose itself, peering at the dancer Tiefling.\n\n\"You're quiet the talent.\" Soleil would comment, retracting her hand as soon as she gave the coin she offered. \"Subtle casting is a rare talent, only seen by mostly Sorcerers. I'm curious— where did you learn to cast those illusions?\" Soleil would ask, placing her hands by her side.\n\nNow up close, she would study Vayra with an inquisitive gaze. She was even prettier up close, the jewels which hung off her body would be kissed by the sun's radiance, shining as they hung off her clothes. Soleil herself looked awfully plain, and her form would be indicative of that of a teenager, while in truth she was three centuries old. The most noteworthy feature was that yellow eye— how it held this radiance to it. The eye of someone whose been graced by heaven; Vayra didn't know this, but she was met with The Honoured One. Perhaps, the strongest mage to ever grace Lucidien at this present time.\n\nSoleil flipped her hood off to reveal her silvery hair. It was now made clear her left eye was covered by an eyepatch. She has seen her fair few trials in life, this was evident. Her expression was neutral, as she looked face-to-face with the Tiefling, as they stood in equal height.\n\nCan Vayra keep the curiosity of the Yellow Mage?" }, { "author": "Vayra Vakara", "message": "The Tiefling had collected her coin and keenly pocketed it away, a neat little bonus for a fun little performance. It seemed like everyone had cleared out, until the Illusionist spied that hooded figure. A similar height, brandishing an offering of coin and compliment to boot.\n\n\"Thank you!\" Vayra added quickly, plucking at the coin with a smile from the curious stranger. It seemed she had more to say, attention claimed as her hands shuffled to her hips. Her voice was distinctly Khisfiran, a dialect native to the Border regions with Alynthi. Practically everything of her screamed Khisfiran, except the cunning of a Thief. The High Elf's question intrigued her, rarely ever did she overhear someone more curious with her illusions than her looks. Intrigued, the Tiefling would seek to indulge the stranger.\n\n\"Mmh? Taught by my family, mhm! I'm.. Originally from Nacuzar. I.. Suppose it runs in my family, these illusions?\" - Vayra questioned herself, never dwelling too far regarding her bloodline. Composing herself, her answers turned to a smile as she offered her hand to shake. \"Oh, I'm Vayra! Vayra Vakara. It's not usual that people ask me about my Illusions, heh.\" \n\nUsing that time, she'd finally get a good look at the interested party. - Hood now unfurled, her own golden gaze looked longingly at the yellow stare and eyepatch. An attire form fitting yet clearly foreign to the lifestyle in the Sands. Appearing young, yet not acting so. Vayra seemed to get especially curious over this stranger, herself. Many questions bubbled in her thoughts, but one so blatant that it had to be asked. \"It's lovely to meet you, uh.. Miss..?\"" }, { "author": "Soleil, The Yellow Mage", "message": "The She-Elf nodded her head along as she listened to what Vayra had to say. So her ability to cast all was simply innate? 'Runs in the family', usually the words that marked a Sorceress, as particular bloodlines have a naturally strong inclination towards magic. High Elves typically were all Sorcerers, but Soleil herself was not. To reach where she was, it took hard work and effort to place herself at the pinnacle of magic. Perhaps that's why she was set apart from her elven kin— the fact that she had to work towards her aptitude as opposed to simply being good from the beginning. After all, it was usually those with bountiful talent and innate skill who typically carried arrogance among her elven kind.\n\n\"A pleasure to meet you, Vayra.\" She took Vayra's hand to shake it. Her hand was gloved by leather, so the Tiefling couldn't feel the texture of her skin, but, the way she placed her hand into Vayra's was graceful, stoic. She maintained eye contact with the Tiefling, before relinquishing her hand after they shook their hands.\n\n\"My name is Soleil.\" She responded. \"I am a nomadic wizard.\" She would describe herself in a short, concise, and simple way. She didn't need to share everything else about her— after all, she was sure it'd bore the Dancer to death if she started going off about her history. Nobody was impressed when they were _told_ something, so, Soleil always rather show who she was through her prestige in her arts.\n\n\"If I may be so bold...\" Her words lingered for a moment, as her mouth breath breath before speaking. \"...I would like to study you and the way you use your magic. You have a unique talent that normally takes others years to master.\" She would explain, yet again, in shorter, concise terms. \"I am willing to make an exchange. Knowledge for knowledge. I'll teach you a few tricks to adjust and enhance your technique— as well as one or two additional workings that may improve your performances.\" Soleil offered. She knew in the land of Khisfire, everything was transactional. It was rare for people to stick their necks out for strangers, especially when you're likely to get mugged.\n\n\"What do you say?\" Soleil now asked. \"Care to entertain me?\" The She-Elf added, her face still maintaining this neutral, stoic look. There was not the hint of an ulterior motive behind that radiant yellow gaze— only truth appeared to have been spoken here. Right at this moment, Vayra was the apple of Soleil's eye." }, { "author": "Vayra Vakara", "message": "Vayra always seemed to meet Elves. Not like it was difficult with their diversity amongst Lucidien, but it did amuse her! Always a surprise to unravel, questions often complicated by their endless Youth and years of learning. Hand shaken, Vayra extended her smile as her bare hand met leather. The gracefulness wouldn't go unnoticed, the Tiefling seeming to match the movements as best she did with a nod to follow it. Always eye contact, too! The Tiefling seemed to notice that the yellow eye rarely ever avoided her gaze. It made it all the more difficult to consider if she was trying to decieve.\n\n\"Soleil? You share similarity with Solaris, what a treat. Lovely to meet you, truly!\" - Vayra replied quickly, though her mind tracked on the case of a Wizard! A magic caster, of course! Now it made sense why she cared for her illusions. Preparing to talk and discuss, it seemed she wouldn't have to wait long as the sudden entrance of an offer came to light. One, that completely surprised the Tiefling dancer.\n\n\"Heh.. You want to study me..?\" - Words reflecting that aforementioned surprise, Vayra's own golden stare turned to a narrow as she contemplated the sudden offer. Hands slowly planting to her hips, eyes set upon the Nomadic Wizard. The further simplifying seemed to help in some light, an offer to teach the Tiefling some new tricks! Yet, for how easy it was for her to trust, she still knew very little of this total stranger. No proof of the competency to make this exchange truly fair. More answers were needed, noted by the growing part of her lips. \n\n\"I've.. Never quite heard such an offer, Miss Soleil. I'm not entirely sure! You wish to watch me cast, is that what you mean? And... You can teach me these arts in return, Miss? \" - Vayra wasn't so cynical, moreso seeking some way out of her ignorance. The Tiefling needed some final answers to settle her thoughts, which for her was quite the achievement!" }, { "author": "Soleil, The Yellow Mage", "message": "\"Yes.\" Soleil said in dry tone, her face deadpan. Her words were like a hammer striking a nail— there was no need for elaboration. She wanted to watch Vayra cast in more detail, in order to analyze and study her methods of casting— Perhaps the Tiefling possessed something that'd make it easier for future pupils to learn how to cast without speaking. To Soleil, mastery of magic casting is subtraction. The art of using the least amount of components while maintaining efficiency— and Vayra, without knowing it, could do this feat. The lack of verbal components in her casting was enough to make her worthy of Soleil's attention.\n\nWhile studying Vayra's face, she could see the skepticism which lingered. Oh, did she perhaps doubt Soleil? It wasn't the first time, neither would it be the last. \"I can _show you_ what I can teach you.\" She then added, the silvery haired woman offering the chance for clarity to the Trickster.\n\nThen a thought passed in her mind. Something that came from a place of arrogance. A place of _pride._ \"Would you be interested in having a spell duel with me?\" She would then offer— adding an entirely new layer of intrigue to the matter at hand. Actions spoke louder than words, and a display of power would assist in selling the idea that Soleil had a vast wellspring of knowledge to offer.\n\nWas Soleil really going down that path? Yes, she was. Because she'd get the opportunity to analyze Vayra in live combat and better understand how her machinations work. In exchange, Vayra could attempt to extrapolate a few tricks from Soleil herself— it worked out. Although, Soleil knew people didn't learn as effectively when stressed. In fact, they learned better when they were playing, thus, Soleil knew she'd have to be gentle with the dancer.\n\nShe would patiently wait on an answer, staring at Vayra." }, { "author": "Vayra Vakara", "message": "The Dry nature of this Wizard wouldn't be lost on the energetic and cheery Illusionist, causing quite the amusement by way of her smiles and casual inspections. Not deterring her in the slightest, simply something to note from a Caster intently lost in their books of study! Something which a Sorceress simply would never grasp!\n\nBut her amusal would soon shift a notable surprise upon that sudden offer. A brow perked, hands further planted against her hips in clear contemplation. There would be no hiding her reaction, her words much less open already. \n\n\"Huh..? A duel..? Well, uhm..\" Spoken not out of confusion of the concept, but bewilderment. First to be asked of her Illusions, then offered to be studied. Now, a duel to prove the Master's worth! It was never a common venture for Vayra, and rarely had she fought another spellcaster that didn't resolve in her rushing off as quick as she could. Still, there was no doubt that the prospect was enticing. One way to prove the worth of this Wizard for certain, she supposed.\n\n\"Well, that's another request I rarely get.. But I see the idea behind it, mhm! Okay, you're on! Well, uhm, assuming we're not really hurting eachother?\"" }, { "author": "Soleil, The Yellow Mage", "message": "\"Fret not. Nobody will be hurt, I promise.\" She would say. \"In fact. I do not intend to hit you at all.\" Soleil then added in that monotone expression of hers. Although her tone plainly neutral, a etch of a smile would form. \"We'll play a game of 'tag'. You just need to touch me with your hands or a spell at least once. Sound fun?\" The wizard would propose to the dancer. A friendly game of tag would be dynamic and fun enough for a wager between two casters. Especially an Illusionist who could trick Soleil's mind— presumably, could trick her, anyways.\n\n\"Now then. The game starts now.\" With that, Soleil simply clapped her hands— `\"Misty Step.\"` —as her form vanished from sight, a faint mist being left behind as she moved 30ft vertically up towards the roof of a building, standing on its edge. \"Come on now! You'll lose me if you don't start moving, Vayra Vakara!\" The High Elven woman shouted at the Tiefling who was now below her.\n\nThe challenge was now on! The She-Elf couldn't help but hold a smile now as she was getting into the mood. This was going to be the most interesting and exciting game of tag she'll ever play! She knew playing was the best form of learning— she hadn't wanted to stress her potential new pupil, and simply wanted to demonstrate the vastness between the pair, and how much Vayra can learn from this individual.\n\nShe waited— her invisible `Arcane Eye` which floated above her granting her 360 degree vision gave her the necessary perception to react to whatever Vayra had coming." }, { "author": "Vayra Vakara", "message": "Nobody hurt, a plan perfect for the pair! Yet, the intention to even avoid hitting her caused a perk to brow. Confusion, only momentarily as the Mysterious Wizard quickly explained. Tag! A fun little game, potentially striking at powerfully egos but Vayra had no such arrogance. The idea, instead bringing a notable smirk. \n\n\"Hah! I-\" Words cut off by the Misty incantation, Vayra forced into a swift narrow of her eyes as she glanced about the place in sudden surprise. Soon enough darting her glance on up, as the Wizard teased from ever so far above. Misty Step, a spell known to the Tiefling. The Wizard had casted it in a manner she had never quite delved, so swift and effortless. Perhaps a flicker of just how this little game would go..?\n\n\"Woah- Okay, okay! Here I come!\"\n\nUnintentionally spoiling her own arrival, Vayra's mind was simply set on catching up to the Elf watching from the rooftops. If Misty Step was her method, then she'd shamelessly replicate. A spell used in past through the annoying bends of ruins or jumps too far for the poor Illusionist to make on her own two feet. No clap of her hands, but the quiet hum to herself. Collecting herself, focusing, until her mind went blank again and began the slightest of poses. Purplish hues fluttering around her ever faintly, her arm slowly raising aswell as an inch of her knee upwards. A dance-like motion, ending with the reopening of her eyes and a notable smile. A swift flick forward, imitating the slightest hop forward into a step that accounted as a spell. \n\nAnd there, vanishing from her spot would she appear on that same rooftop. Not right next to Soleil, but a slight step or two away as if intentional. Her dance -like pose remained, golden gaze watching intently if she'd react. If not, notably moving to reach for Soleil and tag her!" }, { "author": "Soleil, The Yellow Mage", "message": "Soleil had intentionally designed this moment to see how Vayra would reach the Yellow Mage, and with the identification of `Misty Step`, Soleil had a general grasp of the sort of individual she was playing with. A trickster, an illusionist, a conjurer. She anticipated the sorts of tricks she'd use— by no means was she a versed Illusionist, however she's studied in how to counter them, along with other schools of magics such as Enchantment. Utilizing a `Counterspell` would be all too easy to halt the Dancer's movement, and thus instead invited Vayra to get closer. After all, it'd be so much funner this way.\n\nWhen Vayra had appeared but a few feet from Soleil, the Yellow Mage already decided the sort of game she'd play. She would focus on the use of Conjuration magic— a simple exercise for someone of her talents. As Vayra's hand threatened to end this game of tag, Soleil hadn't needed to twist her head to look at the Dancer— her invisible `Arcane Eye` gave her the necessary 360 degree view to react from any an all angles. Even spells which required line of sight were ignored through the `Arcane Eye`. The Yellow Mage had simply incanted thusly, `\"Fog Cloud.\"` Before exhaling loudly. From her mouth, fog escaped rather rapidly as within a 20 foot radius centred on Soleil would be covered by this thick fog, obscuring both their vision. Just when Vayra thought she tagged something, instead she would swipe air— and a step further would lead to the Dancer accidentally tripping off the roof. \n\nSoleil, having the use of her `Arcane Eye`, would use it as a point of reference to accurately maneuver the fog. While Vayra was swiping for her, Soleil with light feet and elven grace practically danced around the Dancer. Side stepping from her hand and moving backwards along the edge of the roof, escaping the fog.\n\nShe stood outside the fog sphere she made, patiently standing a couple feet outside of it. She would ponder if Vayra would accidentally throw herself off the roof, or if the Illusionist-Conjurer would adapt." } ]	437	5,748
928	1776-07-04	GuildPublicThread	[ { "author": "Kallista, The Madam", "message": "*In the depths of the Lion's Den, dimly lit by red-hued lights, sat a stage. In a gentle flash, orbs of warm light blossomed to life, illuminating a single figure. A slow thunder of drums coupled with a glittering haze announced her presence. This was the beginning of the headlining act: The Madam.\n\nA haze-like smoke seemed to pour from the floor of the stage, glittering with a golden twinge in the warming light. Shrouding the figure, it seemed to kiss her form. Back to the audience, a cascade of deep cerulean blue waves hung loose below the woman's shoulder blades. Horns glistened with golden luster and the shimmering jewels adorning them dangled at varying lengths. The swirling tattoos covering the upper left quadrant of her torso even seemed to move under the illusionary lighting. As the music swelled, the succubus began her show.\n\nInk-coated and manicured fingers rose above her head as it moved slowly to the side. Sheer sleeves of translucent purple fluttered over her as her arm extended, flowing onto her chest as she began to lean back. Connected to a gold-laced armband, the sleeve obscured her face until, in dramatic flair with the music, she suddenly pivoted, now facing the audience. Striking gold metalwork of thin chains and adornment caught the light at every angle. The bodice of her costume was a base of rich purple, matching the skirt. Said skirt, made primarily of the same material as the sleeves, fluttered effortlessly to the woman's bejeweled ankles. Two slits opened up to the waist of the skirt, exposing her legs as she moved. A band of golden embroidery sat just below the curve of her toned stomach, accompanied by a scarf of what appeared to be golden coins. The scarf jingled with increasing intensity as the woman's hips glided to the music.\n\nKallista was the intrigue of the night, performing for only the most important clientele of the Lion's Den. Only the gods knew how much these people paid simply to exist in her presence,\n\nNow, the dancer was not the only purpose of these people's endeavors to enter the establishment, no. The place was a haven of luxury, filled with only the finest. This too, included Leovyr's alchemical concoctions. Now these, Kallista knew quite little about. But she, The Madam, made it her business to know everything, anyone else. She knew the value of her work and exactly the type that was to seek out her place of work. The succubus specialized in two things, her dance, and her interactions with the clients.\n\nThis star-filled desert night seemed no different from the rest of the lively, busy evenings that were brought by the end of the day. But tonight, the Madam had heard whispers. These little birds in her ear had informed her that someone of fascinatingly new interest had just been introduced to the nighttime activities of Sol's Landing. Not only was this prospect apparently wealthy, but quite human. The idea of humanity was what had caught Kallista's ear. Wealth, given her occupation was arguably ever-present (though the succubus would not turn her nose up to another addition to her collection of gifts). But humanity, now that was a rarity. Not to mention, her little gossip-mongers had mentioned she was quite beautiful.\n\nRhythm from various drums coupled with the melody of oud and santur, creating a swell of music that seemed to follow the dancer's lead. Each motion and flick of her hips by the beat, never once a second off. The calculated, yet elegant motions were followed with a crowd-pleasing expression. Full lips and kohl-lined eyes greeted the audience with a slight smile and gaze that seemed to meet all eyes. Dark brown haloed the interior of her shadowed irises, accompanied by a glittering concoction of colors that sat blended on her dark-lined lids. Those eyes pierced through the darkness, searching for the prospect that had managed to catch her attention.\n\nWhere was this illustrious mystery?" }, { "author": "Synerrie 'Syn' Sabin", "message": "There were many ways to define the perfect prey. Perhaps it was the gullible old woman who would invite a snake into her cottage for dinner, then become the dinner herself. Or, maybe it was the poor, bleeding man who was desperate for a Doctor to save his life only to meet his certain doom. But, tonight? It was the succubus who had claimed the stage and the attention of every audience member in attendance. She was the perfect prey.* While the crowd gazed upon the woman's shapely figure with lust as she rolled her body to the fervent drums, Synerrie Sabin stared upon her with a different kind of lust. The patrons likely fantasized about the succubus with a few less of her layers yet, the vampiress imagined what awaited her beyond that; beneath the skin and weaved within the bones... Blood. And for the sake of the Gods, perhaps Synerrie desired More Than simply blood between her fangs. As if it had a mind of its own, her tongue swept over the sharper teeth in her mouth at the thought of what delectable flavors would soon be Hers. However, there is a unique type of craving that Synerrie had beyond that of blood but, for the games she could employ; after all, why not enjoy the chase of her prey? The vampiress sat perfectly still yet within, she was utterly restless. Her mind raced with nefarious ideas, each one highlighting a fresh and thrilling way that she could play with the succubus woman's mind; and worst of all, each way seemed to bring a sick type of amusement to the human's lips which were spread into an unsettling smile. That smile unfolded into a slight, lazy type of grin upon eye contact with the undeniably delicious succubus woman. \n\nIndeed, the perfect prey.\n\n♡.₊ ⊹🩸\n\nSynerrie's gaze seemed to pierce through the woman's very soul as she tilted her head and locked onto her target. With a single finger, she motioned over an attendant and produced a hefty bag of gold into their waiting palms; not once breaking eye contact with the dancer on stage. The attendant lowered their head and whispered an invitation to a more Private Setting. At that point, Synerrie stood and allowed herself to drink in the sight of the succubus woman one last time. The vampiress's appearance was haunting; like a porcelain doll that some could admire for her beauty and others would lock away, afraid the doll might be capable of something truly wicked. A black corset hugged her torso that withheld lacy patterns of roses and thorns, while a deep red frilly top poked out from beneath; the sleeves long and droopy adored with a similar lacy design of prickly flowers. Her skirt was the same deep red color that flowed down to her midthigh, revealing milky white legs tucked into a pair of fine black heeled boots. If her eerily close to full-blooded human appearance didn't give it away, it was clear that Synerrie was Not From Khisfire. Finally, the vampiress turned to follow the attendant a last, meaningful glance to the succubus woman. As she exited the stage room, her long, wispy tresses gently swayed behind her in a snake-like pattern. Then, she disappeared behind the curtains at the back of the room.\n\n♡.₊ ⊹🩸\n\nKallista. Synerrie finally had a name for Her Prey and, she wasn't simply any dancer in the Lion's Den. No, no. She was The Dancer in the Lion's Den. Kallista was the lioness. The head of the pack. The Madame. An intoxicating sensation of anticipation rolled up Synerrie's spine when she discovered who exactly she had requested a private audience with. In fact, the human nearly giggled when the attendant appealed for further gold to afford the price of Kallista. Luckily, Synerrie had plenty of money to spare for the endeavor so the rising prices were nothing but more delight for what was to come. Now as she waited for her prey, a question echoed throughout her mind... \n\nWho would truly entertain who? The dancer, or the killer~?" }, { "author": "Kallista, The Madam", "message": "There she was. A doll amidst a sea of shadowed faces and the glamour of the Den's well-decorated atmosphere. The mystery's pale skin seemed to almost shimmer in the stage lighting, her features adapted and accepting of the shadows cast upon her. But that was not what had alluded Kallista to her presence. As if a flash had gone off in the dark, eyes met in what others may have reasoned as a stroke of destiny, based off of how it felt. In the span of a heartbeat, a coldness of sadistic pleasure ran the length of the succubus's spine. In return, her dark irises haloed by the spotlight of orbs above her, retorted with a relaxed, yet similarly striking look. The Madam may have continued her performance as smoothly as ever, but the woman couldn't help but smile. A performative smile in tune with the music crossed with one born of the quiver of anticipation, glossy lips parted to expose just a flash of teeth before she promptly spun on the balls of her feet. Anklets jingled as she moved, sending the shiver into her hips as they continued to sway\n\nAt the very least, she was in for quite the treat. Kallista savored the taste of adrenaline on her tongue. Skirt swishing as she moved, the woman's leg emerged from one of the slits. Shifting her weight, her sleeves fell in full theatrics, floating alongside the shimmy of her hips to the ever-increasing pace of the music. With it, it felt as though her heart moved alongside her, fluttering in delectable waiting for what was next. Muscle memory took over her, and just as the foreign woman made her last glance, so did Kallista. Waves of blue soared overhead as the woman tossed her head back. Their eyes met again in another flash, sparking a flash of fire between the two, its heat roiling up the dancer's belly. Only a glimpse, a half-second's worth of contact set Kallista aflame. \n\nOnly a handful of times had she felt this way, and every fiber of her screamed in ecstasy as the delight of attention and endorphins filled her.\n\nBlazing through the rest of her performance, the Madam's energy levels seemed to have only increased. As the drums ceased, her heart still thundered, reverberating through her. By the gods, what a high. It seems a certain someone dearly wished to give her their full and delightfully undivided attention. Though she could not discern the intention behind it, its truly intoxicating taste was like nothing else. The finale of the act had been completed, and her bows to the audience were nothing short of standard, only her mind rushed with an onslaught of what could only be described as pure excitement.\n\nAfterward, the Madam tore through the halls behind the stage to not keep her high-paying client waiting. Not only was someone able to afford her but had also managed to give her a feeling many would pay her price and more for. Luckily for the succubus, it seemed she'd be profiting both in wealth and pleasure. Four maids had to assist Kallista in her process of changing. Nothing would be out of place during this meeting, so much she would *Personally* Guarantee.\n\nClicks and clatters of only the most exquisite heeled sandals and golden adornment filled the hall outside of the private space. The sound announced her presence first, followed by the distinctive scent of opium, coupled with amber and a hint of rose. Curtains of rich red parted as attendants bowed to announce her arrival. \"Miss Sabin, presenting The Madam, Kallista\".\n\nThe anticipation hit its climax then, a crescendo at the peak of its volume.\n\nCalculated steps illuminated Kallista from the ground up as she stepped into the space. Candlelight burned, scattered flames that bathed the space in a warm hue. Dark wood enhanced the shadows of the space, contrasted by an assortment of jewel-toned decor. A plethora of plush pillows and tangling chains of golden splendor were dispersed throughout the room. Chairs, loveseats, and a large daybed-esc structure furnished the place, with small tables and hookahs interspersed, one larger and designed for all sorts of activities. The daybed of sorts rested against the far wall from the entrance, its sides encompassed in a similar curtaining to the entrance with an additional inner layer of translucent material that seemed to glimmer softly in the dull light. Its open face held a crown of an archway, elaborate carving creating a latticework of detail along its peak.\n\nThe Madam stood tall at the front of the room. Having changed into an entirely different outfit, her new ensemble held a slightly more burlesque tone in comparison to that of her dance attire. A torso-less bodice held her chest tightly, made of turquoise silk and covered in golden embroidery. Red silk and further embroidery outlined the curves of her upper body, underbust dangling with a fringe of golden chains. Matching sleeves that began at the upper arm, and puffed downward with a translucent material, meeting at the cuffs that sat just above the bones of her wrists. The same materials composed the skirt, though it only had one slit on the right side, reaching all the way to its waistband. The edges of its hem seemed to almost drip as its free-flowing layers sat in tiers, fluttering from the excess kinetic energy of her movements. Deceptively sultry as always, Kallista gave the doll-like woman her signature look, descending into an elegant curtsey.\n\n\"It is of the utmost pleasure to personally welcome you to the Lion's Den, Miss Sabin~\"" }, { "author": "Synerrie 'Syn' Sabin", "message": "\"Is that delightful outfit for me alone?\" Synerrie purred as she tilted her head. Kallista's attire had transformed into a new level of allure since the vampiress last viewed her upon stage and for a moment, she wondered how captivating the dancer might look if she swayed her hips in this sultry garb. Briefly, silence extended as Synerrie's hypnotic gaze soaked in the sight of Kallista. Yes. Yes, she would do perfectly... A broad grin unfurled from her pair of smirking lips, the self-satisfaction of her expression practically radiating into the room. Her right hand raised to her chin with her index finger extended so that she may rest the tip of it upon her wide lips. Then, Synerrie pulled her hand away and rolled up to her feet to approach the dancer. She glided smoothly and gradually to the other woman, her hips swaying with each step. Once in front of Kallista, she did not stop and instead, slid behind the woman while simultaneously grazing her hand across her hip; deliberately selecting a spot where her hand brushed where open skin and the top of skirt's fabric met... The touch was light and feathery until Synerrie stood completely behind Kallista, then it shifted into something tight—Something Possessive. Albeit shorter than the dancer, it presented no difficulty for the vampiress to lean into the succubus's neck and allow a cool breath of air to drift out from her lungs. Afterward, her lips moved to Kallista's ear. \n\n♡.₊ ⊹🩸\n\n\"I sure hope this outfit is for simply me,\" Synerrie whispered, \"Now, why don't we pour some drinks and enjoy a Delectable Night~?\" Her hand slid from Kallista's hip and around her back, then it was gone; and with it, Synerrie as well. Similarly to how the human approached the succubus, she sauntered back to her position on the couch; curling up on the cushions like a cat as she laid on her side and extended her legs out, using her arm to prop herself upright. \n\n\"You know, I was told that you were one of the Best Among Lucidien's dancers. Rivaling those in the Noteworthy Brotherhood. But after witnessing your performance, I would say that You are the best. I couldn't remove my attention from you, expect only to request further, more Private Attention from you. And now that I have it, I don't know if I'll let it go so easily,\" Synerrie giggled, \"I expect that you will keep me Satisfied All night. Unless... Perhaps, you Don't. After all, I am known for my big appetite~\" Not once did her crimson gaze wander from Kallista's figure. She wanted to observe every reaction that she could elicit out of the dancer. What would make her excited? And better, What would make her afraid?" }, { "author": "Kallista, The Madam", "message": "The Madam may as well have been a statue as she was accessed by the intimidatingly human woman. Carefully measuring the situation before her, the succubus wore an unwavering expression of amusement. She stood tall as Synnerie surveyed her, spine elongated to accentuate the length of her legs and allow her horns to capture the light of the candlelit space. Only a blink and folding of her hands alluded to her beating heart, which she adeptly kept at a calmer pace. Even as she approached, Kallista held firm. As the other woman touched her, she allowed the sensation of closeness to envelop them, a burning brown gaze following every one of Synnerie's motions. Something about this woman was off, but there was not enough information to determine what exactly that was. Nevertheless, she was well-dressed, attractive, rich, and... Dangerous. As the women's eyes met, Kallista felt as though she was being preyed upon. That said, it only made the succubus's stomach burn with curiosity.\n\nLeaning into Synnerie's touch, the Madam's adornments jingled quietly. Fabrics swished against one another, and breaths seemed to encompass the entirety of the remaining space between the two. At the suggestion of touch, Kallista's head tilted slightly, her earrings sparkling as they dangled. Chests rose and fell in tandem, and the long, darkened lashes of the dancer's eyes fluttered to a close as her smile only grew at the human's words. Oh, how she loved to play these games. Who exactly was this woman, and more importantly, what were her intentions?\n\n\"I would never wear an outfit cursed by someone else's eyes in your presence, darling~\"\n\nFollowing the pattern set before her, Kallista's voice sat in its low, enticing tone. \"As you wish\". At the cue, no time was wasted. The Madam's hips swayed as she stepped, the sounds of her heels now muffled under the carpeted interior of their most expensive space. Just to the left-hand side of the other woman, next to a small side table, sat a carved cabinet matching the rest of the room. From it, she retrieved a pair of crystal glasses, inlaid with gold bands along the rims. Listening intently as she moved, the Madam's smile never wavered, accepting the praise with gracious eagerness in a pleased hum. Someone was quite... Exuberant, it seemed. The strange human's last words would have evoked a raise of Kallista's brow if she hadn't been so intentional about her maintained expression. Oh, how one may interpret those words.\n\n\"My, oh my~ What high praise you sing, my love. I Do Take much pride in my work\". The extravagant stemware clinked lightly as she set them on the larger table in front of the chaise lounge loveseat Synnerie relaxed upon. \"And, I assure you that I am also quite capable of...\" Tongue slick with the delicious taste of seductive subtlety, she paused to savor the words before they escaped from her lips. A piercing look of tantalizing intrigue fell upon the esteemed guest, watching every reaction that came from her words, \"...Satiating Your desires\".\n\nA blaze burned between them only momentarily. With a swift step, the hem of the Madam's skirt seemed to float as she moved. From the cabinet again, Kallista produced a matching decanter. More crystal and gold encased deep red liquid, shaped with a wide base, pointed at the end, and coupled with a short neck, lipped for ease when serving. \"Tell me, Miss Sabin, are you fond of rich wines?\" The decanter, textured with engraving throughout its length, was set to rest before the client. It sat upon a golden base, structured to support the full-cut, diamond-shaped bottom of the reservoir.\n\nThere, just upon its gold-lipped edge, a manicured finger merely had to brush against it to cause the object to rotate in a slow and controlled motion, gently aerating the liquid within. \"This is a personal favorite of mine, notes of red current...\" Eyes moved from the wine to her guest as she allowed ample time to marvel at the frankly despicably expensive substance. Sleeves rippled slightly as Kallista leaned forward to rest her hands on the table before her guest. \"Tobacco,\" A slight arch in her back, the position was all too familiar, enticing to the eye. \"And, it carries a chocolate aroma unlike any other. Our most delicious to offer, and most fitting to our Delectable Night.\"\n\nWith practiced and precise ease, the succubus poured the two of them each a glass. A tattooed hand extended the crystal glass to her guest, placing herself on the arm of the furniture. There, she sat, carefully balanced and positioned in such a way for Synnerie's viewing pleasure. With her legs crossed, the slit of her skirt exposed much of her thigh, and the rest of the ensemble left little to the imagination. With a slight raise of her glass, Kallista toasted to her mystery of a high-flying client.\n\n\"To a night of delicacy and delight~\"." }, { "author": "Synerrie 'Syn' Sabin", "message": "Synerrie could hardly contain herself. She had this woman wrapped around her finger with only a few sensual touches and suggestive words, which only made the human wonder how much more of a leash she could place around Kallista with More. Nonetheless, the question of Kallista's future still lingered in the air, unbeknownst to the other woman. Would Synerrie ravage her and leave nothing behind or, would she be tempted to allow her to live so she may continue to indulge in her desires? The thought of such power made the vampiress giggle aloud though, she made no attempt to disguise it as something else; after all, she was quite shameless especially when it came to unnerving those around her. Her lips curved impossibly higher as her gaze locked upon Kallista's figure, specifically savoring the sight of the way the dancer's hips seemed to so effortless sway while she walked across the room. It was as if Kallista embodied the soul of lioness in complete control of her kingdom—The Lion's Den. Though so much for that when a wolf like Synerrie so easily waltzed in and determined that her prey would be the scantily dressed predators. So when Kallista glanced backward to greet Synerrie's gaze with what the vampiress perceived as a Challenge, She could only shiver in excitement for what was to come Soon.\n\n♡.₊ ⊹🩸\n\n\"Rich wines, hm? I adore rich Anything. And please, no need for formalities. Synerrie would roll off your tongue Much Nicer than Miss Sabin, wouldn't you agree?\" She tilted her head with a playful glint in her crimson eyes. When Kallista leaned forward, it took everything Synerrie had not to drag the woman across the table and into her lap. Though perhaps some glass would be broken that way... Cutting the succubus's all too flawless legs and it would leave the vampiress with no choice than to clean the blood that would dribble out until the woman's skin was once more immaculate. Instead, Synerrie remained silent as she accepted her glass of wine from Kallista; bringing it close to her nose so that she may scent the accents of flavors that the other woman had described. Hmmm... It would do but, Synerrie was Not In the mood for wine. This was simply a setup for something else entirely different.\n\n\"To a night of delicacy and delight, my beautiful darling,\" Synerrie clinked their glasses together with a pointed look not at Kallista's eyes but instead, the exposed skin of her upper thighs. She simply smirked before her gaze dragged up the succubus's body, then finally took a sip of the wine whilst holding eye contact.\n\n♡.₊ ⊹🩸\n\nThe sip was short. Synerrie pulled the wine away and inspected it carefully. No, this wouldn't do at all... So, the vampiress tilted the glass to the floor and allowed the red liquid to spill out completely into the fine rug beneath. \n\n\"I'm disappointed, Kallista,\" The vampiress allowed the glass to roll out from her hand and hit the floor, yet it did not break, \"You've disappointed Me. This wine isn't what I wanted At all.\" While remaining on the couch, she crawled slowly to the armrest that Kallista was perched upon with a devilish sort of smile. When the distance between them was nonexistent, Synerrie pulled herself to her knees and placed one hand on the woman's thigh while her other hand slipped beneath her chin. She gripped Kallista chin in a not so tight yet not so gentle manner, forcing the woman to look into her eyes. \n\n\"So, how far would you be willing to go to make this up to me? I have Other Desires that I'm afraid no wine in all of Lucidien could truly fulfill...\" Synerrie was uncomfortably close to Kallista as her lips gazed over the other woman's mouth then across her jaw to her ear, \"Won't you please me in the way I desire?\"" } ]	889	5,568
305.5	1776-07-04	GuildPublicThread	[ { "author": "Aewerin", "message": "The blistering sun overhead was as oppressive as Aewerin had heard. Clutching a think, silky cloak over herself, the comparatively light wear she brought to this land - keeping her light skin completely covered but breezed by flowing wind trapped in the fabrics - felt awkward and unwieldy compared to the more durable sort with which she's far more used to wearing. She dared not glare up at the sun, baring her eyes to the striking rays that'd scald them dry in a moment.\n\nThe only thing that helped the wanderer, stepping away from her caravan during the day's search, was her mastery over the earth, that let her stabilize sands under her feet with a constant, rhythmic pulse of her sorcery. In that way, her advance towards the distant and wind-worn ruins was far more sure than it would've been otherwise. She could, at least, thank the prickling heat of the sun for warming her back enough to not feel its own sting as much as usual.\n\n—\n\nThe ruins themselves, one of many that served as pockmarks in this degenerate land, derogated from any sense of duty - as far as Aewerin was concerned - were revealed by one of the great sandstorms that whipped across the dunes. Once unbending, the now bowed tower of faded embossment was not unlike a tomb that Aewerin had heard about - rumored in her own order as the place to find some astute lore about spellcraft from before the Great Dying.\n\nBut, a rumor it was, and little more. She knew she was chasing ghosts - and daring out too far on her own. But, she supposed, who else could truly be out here, in the heat of this hellish place? No one, surely." }, { "author": "Vayra Vakara", "message": "The Far-Spanning Deserts of Khisfire were a treacherous tale for many a traveller. Be it the violent heat, roaming banditry or the lurking beasts hidden among the sands. What better a place for a trove of arcane Knowledge than knee deep in the shimmering sandstorms that even the locals tended to steer clear of? Oh, only the most adventurous sort would dare try their luck!\n\nUpon getting closer, the Elf would likely be privy to the silence that lurked at the Tower. Abandoned, its architecture requiring a subtle squint to decipher itself. Khisfiran, yet its ancient style bore a most exotic and mysterious fashion. The outer area, littered with age old rubble, highlighted a darkened entrance way. Lighting, only supported by the natural hues that shone through the smallest of cracks. Perhaps surprising, was how it still seemed to stand.\n\nYet, as the Elf got closer, that fortunate loneliness would be spoiled. Careless steps rang out from within the tower, audible to those outside. Perhaps the simple creak of the ruin, but it felt ever too blatant. Someone was inside, but just who exactly..?" }, { "author": "Aewerin", "message": "At the precipice of this sand-perched tower stood Aewerin now, taking precious time to stand and gawk at the architecture. Something of a personal affair- her interests piqued and then pleasantly returned to their old passions for a time. The exotic symbols and embossment, the mysteries she could trace with her eyes, and all the questions borne of what had been eroded. Aewerin found herself smiling, despite the beating heat that bore down on her and anchored her misery to her mouth in a previously unmoving scowl.\n\nThough, only domes remained of what other buildings once flanked the tower itself. Alone it stood, half-buried still, piercing the sky in defiance to age's immortal march. Then- she heard it.\n\nTap-tp-tp-tp-t-tt-tp.\n\nTap-tp-tap-tap-tp-tpt-t.\n\nAewerin blinked. Those weren't- no, it couldn't be. It wouldn't be-... Here? The audacity. Deeper than the canyons of the dunes, the mage's face filled with frustrated fissures, bending into a snarl as she summoned her staff into her right hand with small flourish of her fingers. Stamping the base into the sand beside, the Elf began to advance, aiming to slip herself within with a gentle opening of the doors, looking to intervene and catch who or whatever it was that threatened her pursuit of knowledge here." }, { "author": "Vayra Vakara", "message": "Old doors ushered open, the breach of sunlight cast a keen silhouette of the suspicious Mage across wooden floor. From how the Tower had been buried after all these years, clearly this door was not of the ground level but far ascended. And so, quite simply, a stairway descending down would sprout in a spiral like fashion at the near side of the opening. Aside from that, former window views blocked by sand. The intricate design found at the exterior had been replaced by the bleak reality of its buried nature, dark and barren. With the utility of Darkvision or a sprout of light, one however may look upon and see the familiar Khisfiran patterns from within.\n\nThe sound of movement before had faded for a time, instead replaced by the slightest of creaks below and down those older steps. From the faint slips in the wooden floor, sprouted the appearance of a lower floor. One of formerly darkness, would suddenly sprout a sudden brightness! Activity below, and torchlight to match. Indeed, if Aeweryn were to traverse further down those rather noisy steps, she would spy the back of a rather busy figure searching through a dusty array of damaged tomes. With one, in particular, catching this strangers' eye. A far more unique tome.\n\nWith only a back view however, there would be no face to match. Only the dark raven locks of a feminine figure, swish of a tail and the proud display of darker horns. That, and a garb keenly Khisfiran." } ]	308.5	1,222
424.428571	1776-07-04	GuildPublicThread	[ { "author": "generalvan", "message": "What could be said about Zrembeth Vrardru that hasn't already been said by the many citizens of Lazaroth blessed to not fall under her jurisdiction?\n\nShe goes by many names. The Mad Butcher. The Kin-Slayer. Lazaroth's Monster. Though out of all these names there is one that has followed her since her ascension to her title that all of Lazaroth regails her with in both hatred and admiration.\n\nThe Dragon of Blythwim.\n\nThe daughter of an esteemed Lazarothi war hero during the Sea of Plenty, she had only been Countess for 5 years now. But those years began in blood after slaying her own sister in a duel after she returned from exile and claiming the title for herself. And during this time she has ruled the town of Blythwim viciously. Her terrifying presence looming over the town like the shadow of a dragons wings. She trained and drilled her knights until all that remained were the most fiercely loyal and devoted women in the lands. Ready to die and kill in the name of their nation and in the name of their beloved queen, Dhakashira Ravina Runacri. \n\nAnd by Zrembeth's right as ruler, blood would flow for her queens honor.\n\nIt was those knights who have descended upon Blythwim like a swarm. Rounding up any citizen who they find guilty of a crime no matter how small. And there would be no crime that the Dragon saw as negligible. All were signs of dissent and disloyalty to the queen. Drunken brawling? Guilty of insisting unrest. Complaining about the state of things? Guilty of open disloyalty against the queen. Pleading with the countess to cease this madness and let the people languishing in chains free? Guilty of Rebellion. And for all these crimes there was only one punishment worthy for those who would insult her rule. Insult her queen. Insult Lazaroth itself.\n\nDeath\n\nThe town square of Blythwim is now known as The Slayers Square. A place where Zrembeth herself oversaw hundreds of executions. One beheading after another until the blood seeped into the cracks of the cobblestone and the town was put in its place.\n\nThose that remain in Blythwim are either the fiercly loyal children of Lazaroth. Or, more commonly, those who are unable to find the means to move without being hunted down before being accused of \"Desertion\" Knowing none would defend them.\n\nThough, these executions would not go unnoticed. The Lawmaster. The fair and just Lord Lysanthir Tauriel Olagwyen, had requested The Dragon's presence. To answer for the bloodshed she had caused. And so, she has taken three of her most loyal knights to travel to his castle. To explain her actions. To defend her right as Lazaroth's protector. As Lazaroth's Savior. As Lazaroth's Monster, to act as she has.\n\nBut for now, Castle Blythwim is now occupied by several dozen of Zrembeth's knights. Warrior women and the most firecly loyal daughters of Lazaroth. Clad in armor and defending this castle with their lives. Somewhere within, the next batch of poor souls guilty of some manner of crime destined to head straight for the Slayer's Square. \n\nBut perhaps, that fate can be avoided. As night descends upon Blythwim and its people breath a sigh of relief that the Dragon as left its roost. A band of free men and women, determined to see these people freed gather. \n\nThe castle itself sits upon a hill top. A clear pathway in the front, while its back is made up of jagged cliffs and sharp rock. A defensible spot that lets it view over the town itself as sovereign. Knights patrol the battlements but struggle to see past the darkness. Holding torches aloft to ensure nothing befalls this place whilst their lord is away. \n\nThough they have no way of knowing what was to befall them. No way of knowing that it was time for them to be the ones who must defend themselves." }, { "author": "Magnus Styrmir", "message": "Magnus inhaled deeply as he looked up at the castle from the forest below. He looked up towards the imposing fortress through his spyglass, examining the guards atop the walls with the cliffs. He took note of their patrol routes, seeing each guard with their torch in hand. He took note of how often they would come by any particular stretch of wall. One spot in particular he noticed seemed like he could climb it. Wouldn't be easy, but so long as those rocks weren't looser then they looked\n\n\"Alright.\" He turned back around to where the group was hiding in the darkened bushes as he whispered. \"The guard's tight, as I assume it always is. As we thought the front gate is a no go, but with effort scaling the cliff should be doable once we get the fog cover going.\" He crept back the few yards between him and where the others were hiding, as it was less visable. After making sure he was decently hidden from any unwanted eyes, he dug in his backpack, pulling out a length of rope that would make the accent easier for the others once he had secured it to the battlements \"Alright, once I get the fog going we'll have to be quick. While I can fool them for a while any magically inclined among them will figure it out sooner or later.\"\n\nHe then sat down and focused for a bit, breathing slowly and steadily. He focused on the air in the region. Thankfully it was fairly humid already, so he had a fair bit already to work with. He felt the power his heritige gave him go out into the air, and after a couple minutes a chill began to set in, and fog began to cover the landscape. When the fog was thick enough to make it hard to see anything beyond a few feet, he stood up, ready to go.\n\n\"Alright, I'm ready whenever you all are.\"" }, { "author": "Ehkan Noran Kippat", "message": "In a century, Ehkan had done many foolish things. \n\n He had gone against creatures that would frighten the most trained of hunters, swam through a typhoon, earned his title in the corrupt streets of Khisfire, and many other feats that he hoped would be sung about him for many years to come. \n\n And yet, of all the absurd things he had done, this desperate rescue attempt would definitely top it all. \n\n When they had told him what happened and their plan to save his friend, Ehkan cursed till his ears couldn't take it any longer before he decided he needed to be a part of this madness. He knew his skills as a ranger and fighter were essential to their team, and he knew his soul wouldn't rest so long as she remained behind the bars of this cruel tyrant. \n\n So here he was. He had abandoned his spear and opted for his short sword, his bow strapped to his back, and his shield still folded in its gauntlet form. He listened to Magnus explain their plan of approach, and as he started up the fog, Ehkan flicked his wrist and summoned his falcon familiar into existence. \n\n \"Find a good perch, away from the guards, but good enough to keep an eye on things.\" She nodded at her orders and took to the sky, crossing the fog before landing on top of a tower. Ehkan closed an eye so he could look through hers and saw that Magnus was not kidding about the intense. \n\n \"Well, shit,\" He muttered under his breath, then turned to the others and pointed to the hold. \"My falcon isn't close enough to hear anything, but at least while we're inside, I can keep a look on things on the outside. If the mages there don't notice her atleast.\" He pulled his hood up and lightly patted Domiel's shoulder before taking the rope from Magnus and heading for the cliff.\n\n\"Gods guide me,\" Ehkan prayed as he began the climb. He ensured each hold was firm enough before pulling himself up, and though it was a bit tedious, Ehkan was making good headway. \n\n Until he suddenly slipped. \n\n The rock beneath his foot went loose just as he stepped on it. He held back a yelp and quickly drove his foot into a small hole beneath him, saving him from the fall. He stayed there for a moment, took a deep breath, continued his ascension, and soon made it to the spot Magnus had taken note of. \n\n He waited for any guards to pass by, and when none did, he secured the rope and gave it a good tug to signal the others." }, { "author": "Captain Domiel Marques \| The Tempest", "message": "Domiel spoke not with her lips but with her eyes, the cool ocean hues warmed by a look that said Be careful As Ehkan left them. Guilt gnawed at her, while eternally grateful the task of releasing Rivet should have been hers alone. She could not risk failure, however, not in a place like this. From cover she watched every careful placement of hand and foot. She could sense Magnus nearby, feel the weight of fog and her own nagging worry. \n\nA rock gave way. She muffled a sharp inhale, hand darting from her side to magically assist. His foot found purchase and Domiel's tensed figure relaxed ever so slightly. She kept her focus on their climbing companion, certain that Magnus was watching all else. The wood elf's muscles went taut once more as Ehkan disappeared from view. She carefully shifted her weight to ease the tension, wrapped in a cocoon of fog while awaiting a signal from above. \n\nA solid tug on the rope. Domiel swiveled her braid adorned head to find Magnus, waiting for him to confirm he had discovered no reason to delay her. Should he dip his bearded chin or provide some other indicator of his approval she'd test the rope before beginning her own ascent. Reluctant to waste her energy she did not add to the cover Magnus provided or ease her way up the wall with magic. The task was simple enough with the rope well secured, her muscled physique would not fail her. \|\| Unless we have to roll for climbing and I get a 1 or some shenanigans. \|\|" }, { "author": "generalvan", "message": "The jagged cliff Castle Blythwim rested against made the climb to the top especially perilous. While the steady rope placed by the leader of this band would aid significantly in that process. Ehkan and Domiel would have to be, at the very least, experienced climbers to make it to the top of these cliffs. The jutting edges becoming more and more pronounced as they ascended to the point where they would be climbing almost upside-down by the time they would get close to the top. But even if it was difficult, it was still certainly possible. And once they reached the top, they would find themselves standing right at the back of Castle Blythwim. Right at its blindspot. Climbing up to the battlements from there should be a far easier task.\n\nThe castle itself would soon be shrouded as slow rolling fog would creep in from nowhere to swallow it whole. A welcoming shroud for Ehkan's falcon to glide through the mist to find a perch to rest upon atop one of the buildings. From inside, it would be able to see the confusion on the faces of the women within. Some of which holding their torches higher in a futile attempt to pierce the fog. It wouldn't be long until several servants would begin to provide the guards with better lighting from their magical flames for their torches. At first, it would seem a problem, while not entirely returning sight, it would make much easier to see. But with how brightly the torches now burned, everyone could see each and every guard by the bright light they carried. Even Magnus from below could see through the shroud at the illumination above. This would make tracking their foes much easier.\n\nIn the meantime, Ehkan and Domiel continued their climb. The sounds of their boots scrapping against rock as they tried to find proper footing to reach the top was easily muffled by the sounds of confusion from the castle above. Their plan seemed to be going wonderfully. So long as they made it to the top, their next climb up the walls would be far easier. But now, they would have to survive this. \n\nYet Ehkan, unfortunately, ran into quite the complication.\n\nAs his foot pressed against the rock to try and support himself upwards, he could feel a sudden sensation along his leg. The feeling of scuttling legs crawling against his pantleg. Domiel could clearly see what was happening, as would Ehkan if he chose to look down. A burrowing scorpion, one who seemed to have nested underground within the cliffs, had crawled from an opening within the cliff face onto the Sun Elves leg and was slowly traveling upwards. It didn't sting him, not right now at least. But with both hands occupied with climbing, all he could do now was watch as the insect continued a climb of its own, now resting on his hip." }, { "author": "totalwartitan", "message": "MgMagnus kept a lookout as his companions scaled the cliff, ready to hopefully divert the attention of any wandering guards who happened to manage to see through the fog. He hadn't considered the illuminating effect it would cause on the torches, but he was all the more greatful for it. This was far from his typical course of operation, but he had no objections laying low every now and then.\n\nHe noticed the hold up with Ekhan stopping. Being to far below to see specifically what the hold up was, he grew somewhat concerned. There was little he could do though, and he just kept his eye on the glowing orbs of light. Hopefully soon the two compatriots from his crew would have infiltrated the town by now, and by whatever method they planned would cause Chaos down below. Magnus had only given them one stipulation. Don't hurt innocents.\n\nHopefully the interruption would get cleared up and his companions would scale to the top. Upon their arrival he himself would wait for any all clear signal before ascending the cliff himself, making plenty of use of his experience up in the rigging of various ships. Not the same, but helpful nonetheless." }, { "author": "generalvan", "message": "\|\| I can't express how sorry I am to void this. I know you all looked forward to it and you didn't deserve to be ghosted by me like this." } ]	391	2,971
290.666667	1776-07-04	GuildPublicThread	[ { "author": "vrba_0475_._", "message": "Maybe the beach look" }, { "author": "Ashby Ayah", "message": "Ashby had been taking his time trying to get used to living a bit normal\n It was hard for him to do after being constantly working and than having none at all. He was trying to get used to it all but some days make it so hard. It had been a few months since he'd gotten his freedom now and the weather was still cold out. Though by now he was so used to the cold even if he did have actual warm clothes it didn't really effect him. \n\nAshby needed a bit of a break from the noise of everyone so he'd made his way to a small little beach arss a bit away from the noise of the capital. He would walk onto the cool sand looking out at the waves so close to home yet he just couldn't seem to make himself go back. He didn't know how he could when he didn't know how his sister ended up. He'd stuff his hands into the now new pockets as he kicked up some sand. \n\nIt really was nice bring close to the water even if he didn't know if he could go into the waves. He supposed some of it is he just got comfortable being on land after so many years and it felt kind of safe in a strange way. He would walk close to were the waves came up but still kept just a foot away from the waves from actually touching his feet. The spray of the waves though felt good on his skin, helped with the dried flackiness that was sun burnt skin he'd have over the years." }, { "author": " \| Iara Larimar Alannis.", "message": "Iara adjusted the the small fishnet pouch that hung from her arm as she swam up and away from Neptsa. She figured it was fine to do this today... She could see the sun's rays clearly from here. Usually, she kept her scavenging to darker days, making it just... Less possible for people to be around... But she needed the sunlight. She'd been looking a bit lately, and you can't have that.\n\n\nThe feeling of swimming upwards was much like the feeling of swimming upstream. It was hard and it felt like you were drowning and all odds were agaisnt you... In her mind, at least. No other merfolk seemed to have a problem with the surface, just the people that came with it... And she couldn't agree more.\n\nOk. It's fine. She can do this. She encouraged herself as she passed a school of near surface fish. Huh. She hadn't seen those in a while. Lazaroth had fished up most of them.\nLazaroth had a real problem with fishing up... Everything, basically. Out of her recklessness, her eyes being on the odd group of fish rather than ahead, she didn't notice when she got out of the water and into the surface. She gasped, splashing around rather tactlessly.\n\nThe burning feeling of surface air filled her lungs, feeling like tiny needles perforating her throat and lungs. Like drinking boiling water, or menthol. Iara took lungfuls of the air, her eyes tearing up... Until it didn't hurt anymore.\nShe slowly came down from her panic, attempting to take deep breaths of the odd sensation. \"..Gods.\" She muttered, slowly swimming towards shore.\n\nThe mermaid hauled herself up onto a wet rock, sitting and sighing. It was always excruciatingly painful to breathe on the surface, for a bit at least. Underwater felt familiar. She looked down at the rock, picking up a small shell that laid upon it and placing it in her bag. The search began. That's why she's here, anyways. \n\nHer eyes drifted from the rock to the sand, finally taking notice of the triton. She huffed. Normally, she'd be startled. But it was\n\nA triton. Tritons were... Nice. \n\nIara tilted her head, waving slowly to the Triton." }, { "author": "Ashby Ayah", "message": "Ashby had pretty well been minding his own busy on the small beach. He still wasn't allowing himself to get that close to the water yet but it wad better than he used to be. Least now he tries to be close to it even if not touching it yet.\n\nThough that peace ended with the sound of a different splashing and... Coughing? He would look around as he tried to understand what was going on. There was usually no one here. Least any time he'd been here and yet he spotted a girl. Actually scratch that it was a mermaid. A type of cousin to the sea life. Least it's how he thought of the different aquatic races. All were kind of a cousin race just not all the same.\n\nShe seemed to be okay and he didn't want to startle her either. He understand a bit the feeling of using your lungs one way and than using your gills made the way you got air very different. It could be a bit painful and hard really at first. A reason he almost feared going in the water. He'd not used his gills in many years and to just jump into that seemed scary.\n\nShe seemed like a bit of a shell collector maybe? He'd look around by his feet for any shell close by. Could maybe help at least if they were to be on this beach together. He'd have leaned down and picked up a shell of his own as he felt the texture of it. A rare smile as he enjoyed seeing the shell actually..\n\nHe'd look up and notice she wad waving at him, he'd give a small wave back before showing his own shell he found. Maybe she would want it and maybe not. He really didn't remember much of the relationships with Mermaids and Tritons. He didn't think they were on bad terms with each other and even if they maybe were he wasn't a normal Triton either.\n\n\"Is it okay if I come over there? If you don't want me close I will just stay over here.\" Ashby would show a step of good faith and he stepped back before making a line. A way to show he wouldn't cross it unless she wanted him to." }, { "author": " \| Iara Larimar Alannis.", "message": "Iara's tail smacked the side of the rock. Huh. He asked...\n\nThat's nice.\n \n\"I suppose you can approach, Triton.\" The mermaid looked at the shell he held. It was a pretty... What she came up here for. Iara took the fishnet bag off her side, sweeping some of her hair behind her ear.* \nOf course, she needs to maintain her status. So she continues to look down at him. Just in a somewhat friendlier way.\n\n\"Good shell. A nice gradient, it has.\" She tilted her head, looking down at the shell in his hand. \"You must have a good eye.\" She toyed with her necklace. The waved crashed agaisnt the rock where she sat, splashing her tail enough to not let the scales dry and shift into skin.\n\nIara pulled out a shell from her bag. This one had stayed there from her last trip to the surface. She had a tendency to hoard shells and stones and never got to use all of them before she came back up.\nShe held a small conch shell. It was nice and somewhat pink. She reached down, holding the conch out for the Triton. \"I very much like this one. It's not of much need for me, as I live in the water and do not need to hear it, but it's still impressive.\"\n\nIara inspected the triton... No signs of danger so far, good. \"My name is Iara Larimer Alannis. A pleasure to meet you, Triton.\"" }, { "author": "Ashby Ayah", "message": "Ashby couldn't help but smile a bit at her tail smack. It had honestly been a long time since he'd actually seen a mermaid. She though seemed a bit offish?\n\nAshby didn't see himself in no high statue, he'd been a slave so long it made him think usually a lot less of himself than he should but it was hard not to. He'd walk over with the shell but keep a distance from the water. He still was hesitant to go into it. \n\nHe'd watch her pull out a shell and it was very pretty. The pink seemed to make it all the more set off but one that seemed nice. \"It's a very nice shell. Even if it's not to listen to the ocean. Some shells are just nicer to have than use. Though I have no experience with using them myself.\"\n\nAshby would give a small bow as he would introduce himself \"It's a pleasure to meet you lady Alannis as well, my name is Ashby Ayah.\" He would straighten than as he would than rub the back of his neck. It wad a bit embarrassing to greet someone like that but his mother had always taught him go greet a lady respectfully." }, { "author": " \| Iara Larimar Alannis.", "message": "She grins. \"What a gentleman!\" The sea maiden complimented. She's used to being greeted as aloofishly as she greets in Nepsta. This is a nice change of pace.\n\n\"Ashby Ayah... Memorable name.\" She admitted, reaching down with the shell. \"Try it. I find that this shell is particularly louder than most. You might even hear a seagull.\" She tittered, tapping her nails on the rock, the part of the large stone where her tail rested was darkened to a black from the waves, while the part where her hand rested was hot and dry.\n\nHer nails are painted an aquamarine, decorated with tiny little shells and some sand. \"I don't believe i have ever seen you in Neptsa, or near Tritetheas... Or in the water at all.\" \n\nShe's trying to act like she actually leaves her house, as if she's so out and about that she knows everyone in the area in Tritetheas.\nShe looks him up and down curiously." }, { "author": "Ashby Ayah", "message": "\"Well my mother would be very displeased with me if she knew I didn't treat a lady with respect she deserves.\" He would keep rubbing the back of his neck as he was quite embarrassed by greeting her like so. But he was glad it seemed to help, he didn't want to be on the wrong foot with anyone after finally just getting his freedom.\n\n\"Ha... Maybe memorable down there... Up here it's been not used but just recently. Which even than it... Holds no ground.\" He would walk over slowly as he would take the shell slowly, trying it out as he was impressed by the sound actually being louder, it was quite an amazing find. \"You're right, it sounds a lot louder than others usually would. It's quite an impressive find and rare. You should be honored to find such a unique shell to add to your collection.\" Ashby would look at her for a moment before looking away, he didn't much wish to say he was a slave as it gave odd a bad impression of him \n\n\"I left the ocean when I was younger, you wouldn't have seen me in either as I... Haven't set foot in the waters in over 14 years. So, it's not a surprise you have never seen me before.\"\n\nShe was able to see with him closer his skin did show he'd been on land for a long time, it wasn't in the best shape from being on land and never in the ocean for so long. Though the most noticeable things were the scars, he had them all the way down his arms and some on the lower parts of his legs that showed, some of his fins were torn in areas. Than even some tears on his left ear, if she knew anything about a whip it wad obvious where the scars had come from." }, { "author": " \| Iara Larimar Alannis.", "message": "Her eyes widened as he mentioned he hadn't been in the ocean that long. Her eyes roamed his body, taking notice of the dry, and she guessed what used to be vibrant, triton skin. Not only that, but those scars..\n\n\"14 years!\" A big, exasperated gasp left the sea maiden. \"How?? I feel desperate when I'm out of the water for more than 2 hours!\" Her hand reached out, soft skin feeling at the contrast that was his. \"Oh... You poor, poor, triton, whatever happened to you?\"\n\nHe looked like he was just... Snatched from his natural habitat. Her hand drew back, the bracelet where little shiny glass stones hung from on her wrist jingling from the movement. \"...You have scars, triton. Why?\" She leaned in more, moving her tail further from the water to get a closer look.\n\n\nShe's never seen a waterfolk in this bad of a condition. The most she's heard of anyone go without water was... A month. Fourteen years? That's insane.\n\n\"Why? You must return. You could lose your fins!\" Her ears twitched." }, { "author": "Ashby Ayah", "message": "Ashby was startled by her raise of voice, stepping back as he would pulling his arm against his chest. He didn't like talking about his time on the land, it wasn't pleasant yet he felt like going back was impossible as well. He simply had no courage to go back, it being beaten out of him a long time ago. He knew he didn't look good and most would find him unpleasant, the nicest way to put it.\n\nHe would look down as he just simply studied his feet like they were all of a sudden very interesting to look at, taking a few slow breaths as he tried to calm himself. He was okay, they didn't mean him harm. \"You get used to it... When you are forced away from the water... The first year it's... Hard... But eventually you get used to breathing not through your gills but your mouth and nose.\" He still didn't feel comfortable telling her what happened but it could be easy to figure out if she'd heard any stories of what happens to Tritons in Lazaroth.\n\n\"Tritons don't have fins like you do\" He would look up at her as he held out his arm to show the small, long fin against his skin \"We always have fins like these, we don't shift between two forms as the merfolk and sirens do. I won't lose my fins, they just are a bit... Damaged from... Lack of salt water and... A whip\" The last part being said in a very quiet whisper as he knew that his fins didn't look good." }, { "author": " \| Iara Larimar Alannis.", "message": "Her eyes trailed along the Triton's fin, inspecting it carefully. She was left speechless at the notion of a whip. \"Ah..\" The mermaid lifted her eyes up to look into his eyes instead.\n\n\"..I... Cannot even imagine..\" She huffed. \"It does not hurt you to breathe as landfolk do? I imagine you are... Accostumed to it, but does it not hurt to lose... The feeling of being ever so free underwater, to float, to feel the water around you.\" \n\nShe catches herself. Her guard has fallen, her facade feels... Shattered. No, she can't be this way. She knows she'll get hurt... But she can't help but feel bad. She feels the need to listen. It feels so odd to see a triton in this state. They are always so... Majestic, so flawless in ther aquatic movements. Their skin shiny and just... She thinks the perfect water race. They were never weakened and ever so determined. He looked so sad in comparison... And she wasn't just trying to be haughty about it. She meant it." }, { "author": "Ashby Ayah", "message": "\"No, I'm quite used to breathing as they do now. Sure it... Is less pleasant during the winter months. It affects my gills more but it's not... Bad.\" He didn't know what to say about the feeling free underwater. It been so long since he'd even felt the water again his skin, mostly because he didn't feel worthy to go back after what happened all those years ago and than to have it beaten out of him to even think about going into the water.\n\n\"I... I don't remember how that feels, it's been a long time since I even been in the sea... Or seen home. It... Feels far off still\" Ashby would try to give a smile like it didn't bother him. He just didn't know how to face his old home now.\n\nIt was nice getting to talk to someone from the sea though, she was nice compared to the usual curses and names he was called on the land. Though thinking of the full sea did scar him. He couldn't even let the water touch him yet. But he was close to it at least. \"Are you okay, miss? If I'm making you feel uncomfortable I can leave. You don't need to listen to a Triton's sad story when you came to find shells.\"" } ]	286.5	3,488
421.75	1776-07-04	GuildPublicThread	[ { "author": "Countess Virzieth Izra", "message": "Her Fiance Had sent little warning regarding his visit. Of course, technically he did not need to send word at all, in a matter of weeks this would be his home, even if just in name. He could come and go as he pleased. Thankfully, Virzieth had already anticipated some surprise visit at some point, so a room had already been prepared and her staff informed. \n\nVirzieth, the Countess herself, waited alone at the steps for her husband-to-be's arrival. She looked calm as could be as she stood there arms crossed across her chest, though preparations were still well underway she was able to clear her day for his visit. She had no doubt he would require her full attention while he was here. Her Butler also very kindly reminded her it was not polite to ignore a visitor, man or not.\n\nFor perhaps the second time in Virzieth's life she was wearing a dress, not even one you would see common women wear that flowed freely and ended at the knee, a full-length corseted dress. It would seem the Countess had updated her wardrobe. Panels of sheer fabric between the ribbing of the corset gave a dark hue to the burgundy fabric that clung to her waist. A slit in the tight skirt traveled up her left leg ending just below her hip leaving the large indented scar on her thigh on display. Only a ribbon of fabric wrapped across her shoulders leaving her muscular arms free to move. She felt like a child playing dress up. Each breath didn't feel quite enough, she was sure if she moved too much the already revealing outfit would become even more so. When she bent down she covered her chest with her hand. It just felt silly. However, it had to be done. Virzieth was Trying To play her role. \n\nPulling in one last deep breath the Countess stood still as he approached. There was no reason to be so nervous, everything was in order." }, { "author": "Zaknafein Aan'ordel Aan'allein", "message": "In a matter of weeks, he thought to himself, This* Would be his 'home'. The great manor of Inyelion was an intricate thing, and its features he had known since childhood. Two centuries were past, and still the memories flooded back of his mother's eyes when she set her sights upon the vaulted ceilings and the intricate molding. Perhaps she had known how badly protected the residents would be.\n\nAt the head of his honor guard, dressed in their night-black armor as they always were, he rode his dun stallion through the gates. The double column of cavalry carried the banner of the Lazarothi wolf at the lead on either side, signs of the Queen's grace and blessing as they followed their grand marshal. Zaknafein himself sat the saddle with his head held high, coolly observing the proceedings before him. \n\nThe manor was buzzing with activity in preparation for the ceremony - slaves and servants zipping about carrying sheets and ribbons to and fro. The windows of the manor house were being dusted, and the guardswomen on the outer wall stood at attention for the moment. Only time would tell how well they did their duty. Perhaps they were in need of replacement. The walls themselves seemed integral, but it was always worth checking for hidden doors and sapped tunnels. There were likely to be a rat's nest of hidden secrets within the house of schemers...\n\nBut what surprised him the most was his bride-to-be. She had looked strangely foreign to him in her extensive clothing the first time they had met, but standing in the courtyard, she was clothed in full Lazarothi fashion with her womanly features on full display. Danger, he thought to himself, was a woman that was capable of learning exactly how much power she could begin to wield. There were other details to be gleaned from her garb - the scar on her thigh that left a large indent across it, arms that showed the full fruits of swordsmanship training. Interesting indeed.\n\n_ _\nWithout a word, he dismounted from his horse. As was his wont, he wore only a loincloth and his twin swords above his boots - the many scars that crosscrossed his body, the puckered puncture healed over on his left hand, and the jagged white lines left over from centuries of dueling were his banners to fly, his pride and joy. As always, a small prick of irritation tickled the back of his mind as he made the proper obeisance to his Matron and his wife, dropping to one knee before her as he began a proper greeting.\n\n\"Matron Virzieth.\" She had asked him to call her by her name. He could not refuse a matron's request.* \"Honor to your name, and to your house.\"" }, { "author": "Countess Virzieth Izra", "message": "He looked as he always did. Skin on full display. It made her own choice of clothing look like that of a saint. Behind him his guard, all men of course, marched behind him. \n\nHe presented himself as a trued Lazarothi man, strong yet subservient. Virzieth knew better, no one was truly submissive in Lazaroth. \n\n\"Thank you, Zaknafein, for your fair wishes and for gracing the estate today.\" Such a greeting still sent a flurry of emotions swirling through her stomach. Still so foreign. Her own taught urge to bend her knee down scolded her for remaining standing. Instead of succumbing to the impulse she graced her sharp features with a smile and held out her hand to him. \"Come, we have much to go over.\" \n\nHand in hand they would enter the manor's doors where inside the busy energy of the estate was even more apparent. Though it seemed few were busy enough to not pause and spare a glance at the entering couple before returning to their work. By this point much of the furniture had been replaced with pieces more fitting to Virzieth's taste, but the base architecture of the building still remained as a reminder of what had been. \n\n\"I hope the roads were not too harsh on you?\"" }, { "author": "Zaknafein Aan'ordel Aan'allein", "message": "Her discomfort, he noted, must have been great to dress and behave as she did - mustering a smile up and holding out her hand. A note of discord between comfortable recognition and sharp danger flashed again through his mind as he grasped her fingers in his own uninjured right hand, bringing his lips down to touch them with a kiss of courtesy. One could never be too careful. This change in weather was not likely to be fair.\n\n\"I am yours, as are my wishes. Where you ask, I go.\" He stood carefully, holding her hand from below so as to escort her through the manor, wherever it was that she wished to take them. Buzzing like a beehive behind them, the estate's servants and petty slaves were making ready for the event of a lifetime. While it was common to take a man's hand in marriage in Lazaroth, and the wedding preparations were usually suited to efficiency, he was no longer to the same level of unimportance.\n\nHe was the Grand Marshal, not simply a man. He bore the Queen's favor and her power with him, and such demanded respect, even if he did not. Preparations would be much grander indeed. He eyed the servants carefully as they continued through the foyer, noting the replaced furniture and the redecoration. Perhaps it was that Matron Irza would introduce a color theme according to her crest or profession. Many matrons busied themselves with such things - a signal of organization, perfection, erstwhile hospitality.\n\n\"My trip was short, and I experienced little difficulty.\" He replied coolly enough, eyes searching the staff for anything out of place. It was unlikely there would be much to see - Lazarothi spies were quite good at their jobs, with a constant level of activity that gave them experience in spades - but there was always the odd careless maneuver, a glance where one should not be.\n\n_ _\n\"If I may be so bold as to ask,\" His voice was low and quiet, a private tone. \"Where did you acquire these slaves? Do you have records of their birth and former owners? For the servants, I might ask the same. Have you had them monitored?\"" } ]	424	1,687
940.25	1776-07-04	GuildPublicThread	[ { "author": "Queen Dhakashira Runacri \| Matriarch of Wolves", "message": "Spring nights in Lazaroth still harbored winter's lingering chill. Tugging her cloak tighter against her figure the matriarch slipped quietly across the courtyard, every breath visible in the silver glow of the moon. She wisped across the final stretch, blinking out in a flash of black and reappearing at a set of thick, sliding doors. They stood a great deal taller than the woman but moved aside with ease. \n\nShe stopped in the doorway, warmth and the scent of fresh bedding washed over her. From the darkness carried slow, slumbering breaths, and a single low, welcoming rumble. Ashira knew the path well, stepping carefully around large nests and over scaled tails until she reached her companion.\n\nThe wyvern rose to greet her, huffing a hot breath that forced the hood from her once obscured face. She pressed her forehead against the beasts, murmuring in drowish. The creature rumbled a reply and the pair set to work. Soon the wyvern was saddled, eager energy expelled with lashing tail. The drow queen guided her mount back the way she had entered, though her help was unnecessary. The pair routinely flew at night and the beast knew its walk to freedom well. \n_ _\n\nOnce they had cleared the doors they wasted no time, both craved the sky. Ashira swung herself atop the creature in a fluid, familiar movement, and with similar grace it leapt toward the blanket of midnight stars. Biting air flowed over them like cold water, invigorating. They climbed higher, every sweep of dark wings carrying them further from the snow dusted courtyard below. A bare patch of stone marked the spot from which they had departed, and soon it was hardly visible. Ashira set her gaze beyond Gaulven, to the Lake of Stone.\n_ _\n\n・. 。.・°・✦・. ☾ .・✦ ・°・. 。. ・\n\nThe beast dipped its wing, turning in a wide circle that allowed its rider to survey the ground below. Ravens dotted the sky around them, hardly visible in the night, sweeping over the landscape. Satisfied with their search the matriarch descended, her wyvern soaring lower until Ashira dismounted in a billow of shadows. She reappeared at the water's edge as her mount continued on, ever watchful. The drow composed herself during the short trek from shoreline to tree line, running a hand through wind tangled hair and dispelling the magic she used during flight. With her back turned to the still waters Ashira awakened a deeper magic, reaching across forest and sea to locate the increasingly familiar aura of the Iron King.\n\nHis emotions trickled through the bond, brushing along her own consciousness. With this connection she worked further magic, opening the awaited gate. It began as a single point of light, as though a needle had pierced the fabric of the king's wooded reality. Expanding swiftly it cast a glow across the trees, illuminating the fresh foliage of Alynthi's softer spring. The leaves shimmered and shadows danced in the ethereal blue light, but the beauty was short lived. It shifted, taking on the shape of a simple, luminous circle. From its center sprouted inky shadows, spilling across the forest floor. They twisted and writhed as though alive before snaking around the portal's shining outline. The light dimmed, hardly visible in the dark depths of Greenheart.\n_ _\n\nGradually, encircled by the diminished glow, a scene became visible. First the moon, now hanging above and before Alynthi's king. Then its escort of sparkling stars, obscured at the gate's center where a silhouette blocked them from view. Behind the dark figure flowed an expanse of water, reflecting the night sky. The Lake of Stone, surely. \n\nRavens surged forth, diving through the portal and into the warmer air where they circled in silence. The matriarch stepped closer to the passage from his land to her own, features softly illuminated by magic. Her relaxed stance expressed a calm confidence, but her bright eyes studied him closely. Full lips curved neither up nor down, providing little indication of the drow's emotions. A cloak of deep purple enveloped scantily clad curves, dark fabric framing ink and scars down the length of her figure. His initial scrutiny would reveal no weapons, but if he were thorough he may catch a brief glimpse of her wyvern crossing the starry sky.\n\nThe enchantress dipped her head, briefly extinguishing the light of her fiery gaze with closed lids before finding his eyes once more. Stepping aside she welcomed him with only the language of her body, lips unmoving, voice silent. Waiting for whatever precautions he thought necessary the matriarch probed the surrounding woods. She sensed only the simple minds of woodland creatures, nothing to ignite suspicion. The wind rushed over the lake, rippling its surface, tugging at her cloak and hair. She remained still as stone, even as the breeze swept stray strands across her expressionless countenance.\n_ _" }, { "author": "Astalios, Iron King", "message": "A spring night. Calm, but never still. It was a time for prime campaigning - when winter began to lessen, an encampment seemed to buzz with life before the last frosts came. Swords were sharpened, packs were made, plans finalized, and horses taken out of their winter blankets. They were long past that now. It was the time for battles in the early morning, routs in the afternoon, and desperate digging long into the night. The smell of rain that preceded a slog through mud clung to his memories.\n\nIt smelled of rain tonight, too. He had no doubt a slog would follow.\n\nHours earlier, he had ordered for one of his court mages - Elias was the man's name - to bond him to a familiar. A spirit to be an extra set of eyes and ears, to go where he could not. A scout for an army, when he had employed them in his forces. But this familiar was just for tonight. There was no use in naming the large barn owl that sat perched on his shoulder as he strode into the stables. The smell of fodder and horses met his nostrils as he hauled open the doors to find his mount.\n\nHe had long since dismissed the guards for the moment. None would interrupt him on this night mission. Sturdy wooden doors and iron hinges opened at the wave of a hand, and Tempest, the gray warhorse that Astalios had ridden for the latter half of the war, came readily at his master's word. Barding in black and gold settled itself upon the horse's body gently, then the saddle lifted by the nails and fastened by its own buckles. Astalios swung onto his back with a practiced step. \n\nIt was comfortable to sit upon the destrier's back. The throne of Alynthi was not easy to occupy, but here he found himself at home. With another wave of the hand, and a signal sent through the small silver stag he carried, the guards were notified and the doors behind him closed. The king, the horse, and the owl set off into the night, together heading into the woods where none else would follow.\n\n_ _\nFor a long while he rode under the moon, elvish vision keeping him alert in the darkness as he traversed the dusty road into the Greenheart. He had hunted here, when the threat of the world's end had not loomed so large. Perhaps he would one day hunt here again, if they were able to pass safely through the crisis. In silence, he rode and thought of nothing but the destination. He would know when he saw it. \n\nWas he right to put his life in her hands? This was an enemy, a slaver, a drow matron of Lazaroth. She knew of his... Condition - the only one he had not told of it. His sister was of little worry. She could be trusted. His father and Temperance were dead. Only the queen remained. If she had told others, he did not know it - neither his sources nor his intuition told him so. With whom would she have shared? Alyus would have made some reaction to it, surely. Khisfire was inscrutable to him - but from what he had heard, so too was it inscrutable to its erstwhile allies.\n\nHis hands gripped the reins ever tighter, and his teeth ground together in anticipation. It was not a favorite hobby of his to discuss the greatest fears and failings trapped within his heart - and neither was it favorable to speak alone with an enemy like Queen Dhakashira. But it had to be done. As Tempest walked on down the midnight path, a pinprick of light appeared before him. He brought the horse to a stop quickly as the blue glow expanded, glinting back off the black-and-gold armor that was the king's second skin and the golden wreath of antlers that signified his office.\n\nBlackness expanded within it, pushed outwards to create a doorway. This was her entrance. The owl on his shoulder flapped its silent wings and climbed to perch in a nearby oak as the swarm of ravens flew through the portal's boundaries, doubtless checking that he had upheld his end of the bargain. She had done the same during the royal conference, some days before.\n\n_ _\nCarefully, he inspected the scene through the portal - water that stretched behind a woman's figure, the moon and stars at night illuminating her from the back. A cold breeze from the chilly Lazarothi air. That was hard to replicate with magic, he thought. The feel of it. Ambient temperature seeping through. For a moment he thought he saw a shadow in the sky, though the flock of ravens were more than enough to create one.\n\nThe figure approached and stepped through the portal, coming into focus as her spell lit the scene with its arcane glow. A cloak, deep purple. A black dress of the sort that the Lazarothi often wore, leaving very little to the imagination. Tattoos of the same shape traced her body - and it was the same bright eyes that caught him in the Thyseer library that now scrutinized him before she stepped aside as if to bid him enter.\n\nThere was nothing but to move.\n\nHe returned her nod with one of his own, swinging out of the saddle as the owl left its perch on tawny wings to sail quietly through the portal ahead of him. As he dismounted, he tied the reins to a tree, letting the armored barding that had protected the horse in battle flow off and reform into a small fence. It would hold till his return. The owl circled once, then twice, feeding the scene of the quiet lake to him through their mental bond. The silhouette of a wyvern, too. But none else.\n\nHe strode forward and through the portal, passing the drow queen by as he entered her domain, turning to await her. It was well that this meeting was secret. Not many in either court would have rejoiced to see it. There was no need to speak until they were in one place, and the portal closed. For the moment, he waited, stern and serious as his sabatons rested on the Lazarothi sand." }, { "author": "Queen Dhakashira Runacri \| Matriarch of Wolves", "message": "Her lip twitched ever so faintly, whether it was to scowl or smile would have been indiscernible had her eyes not simultaneously sparkled with amusement. The cause was not obvious, and as she promptly resumed an apathetic expression it could be assumed the change in her countenance was not purposely revealed. She was not taunting him then. The heat of her steady gaze followed him, as did the matriarch herself. With a whisper the portal was closed, its glow blinking out and leaving the pair to see only by the moon's light. With the doorway to Alynthi shut, only to be opened at her will, unexpected emotions swirled in her. While some part marveled at the trust and Confidence Required for this moment, another felt practically euphoric at the thought of trapped prey. Cut off from escape. Vulnerable. There was a scratching within her skull, a tingle in her fingertips. The Hym. Her hand curled into a fist, promptly tucked into the depths of her cloak. \n\nNot. Now. She internally chided. The creature screeched a reply, trying to wrestle some feral response from her. Writhing wisps began to frame her vision. The scraping of claws against bone grew more eager, frantic. The silence between rulers dragged on, too long. She had expected this assault, prepared, and pushed back against the demon as her feet carried her to the lapping water of the lake. At last she spoke, words preceded by a sigh.\n_ _\n\n\"Your Majesty,\" Perhaps he recognized the subtle strain in her voice, \"Thank you for forfeiting the advantage of familiar territory.\" The comfort of home beneath her feet seemed to aid in her struggle against the Hym. It roared in protest, the sound consuming her thoughts. The Iron King had always roused the demon, but their current isolation made it bold. Neither had any companions to aid them, none to calm Ashira and no one to defend the king. The Hym knew this, and was eager to feed on the guilt and chaos it could cause. Were it to break its mental bonds it was nearly guaranteed that either Lazaroth or Alynthi would lose their leader. The matriarch's head ached, a steady pain that began to radiate down her spine and spread across her shoulders. They tensed, but she was gaining ground. She had become strong over the years, in ways few people knew. \n\nAshira needed time, a few moments to collect herself before venturing into deeper topics of conversation. She turned to look at him over her shoulder, beckoning with her gaze rather than her voice before moving along the curving shore of the lake, \"Have you received any news from your scholars since last we spoke?\" She felt the answer was known to her, if anything had been discovered Alyus would have informed her. It was enough for polite conversation, however. Enough to get her through this assault. Even if he thought her silly for asking, it would be better than the unleashing of her greatest secret. Besides, there was always the possibility that his people had kept something from the bear king. What would be Astalios' motivation to share with her, though?\n\nIt mattered not, She only needed to get through the next few minutes. To mentally cage the demon once more." }, { "author": "Astalios, Iron King", "message": "With the last glimpse of home behind him, the night air of Lazaroth was little more than an invasion of scents and sounds. His hackles raised in response - there was a different sort of creature in these woods, a frog's call he did not know, a chittering sound within the trees, that dark wyvern's shape against the moon. His jaw clenched, though his fists he kept open with some effort. The reminder that he was alone and in no place to reach his army pounded through his head again and again. \n\nForfeiting the advantage of familiar territory. What a colossal understatement. In Alynthi, he could be certain that the watchmen were paid to watch and not to turn a blind eye, and that the highways were meant to be safe, that every man was free to make his own choices and not chained to their masters by some cruel twist of fate that had placed them in servitude. Perhaps a cruel twist of a whip. Gods, what a gamble this had turned out to be.\n\nYet it had to be done. In order to buy himself some time, it had to be done. There was no possible way he could allow the news to come out before he had verified that his allies were trustworthy - they had been so to his father, he knew, but things were shifting often too rapidly to keep track of. Like staying afloat in quicksand, one could not rest and be devoured by the shifting tides of fortune. This viper in front of him was hardly trustworthy, yet she knew regardless what form his thoughts had taken...\n\nWind has through the willows flown\nOer the hills where grass has grown\nLike an endless waving sea\nMelody, return to me.\n\n\"My thanks for your discretion in this matter, likewise.\" He replied, offering what was to be an empty compliment if she had not been truthful. Her intentions were clouded, as all drow tended to shroud them, but for what reason she would not spread the information he knew not. It was of advantage to her - and why should he be worthy of a promise kept? Words were wind in Lazarothi court...\n\n_ _\n\"Sadly, I have learned little yet of what the scholars unearth in their search.\" He exhaled, trying to focus on matters of state. Surely, this research coalition was a matter of state worth discussing, was it not? \"They scour the globe for the old outposts of dragons, believing that the devourer discussed might represent one of those ancient powers - or all of them together. Truthfully, since the Era of Strife was so violent indeed, there is little left on record that survived in the ruins of what was once Leteron.\"\n\nHe himself had once been interested in the land where his ancestors had ruled - when full humans still walked the earth, and fought back against the dragons with weapons forged of spell-made steel to protect the innocent. Then their rending to ashes in the Great Calamity... \"Lazaroth, as I recall, has undergone several periods of repression regarding the history of that time to avoid connections with the last Patriarch.\"\n\n\"Yet for now, nothing.\" He admitted. \"If there was more to speak of, I would share it freely - but the scope is so wide and our time so short that I fear our best recourse may be preparing our armies for action even as our scholars set to work. To be caught unaware is death.\" Speed and surprise, a comforting voice whispered in his ear. Many times with speed and surprise you broke greater numbers. Now the breaker can become the broken, ground beneath the wheel of time." } ]	893	3,761
343	1776-07-04	GuildPublicThread	[ { "author": "Countess Virzieth Izra", "message": "Non-drow in Lazaroth always raised local eyebrows. Though Inyelion was a port city foreigners that docked too long were always regarded with suspicion. When an Aasimar began looking for work in her town Virzieth was one of the first to hear. Normally, her first thought would be to ignore the man, he sounded harmless enough and foreigners were simply a necessary evil, but he appeared at quite the opportune time. Virzieth had been seeking a personal guard following the announcement of her engagement. However, her fiance's words were a constant thought in her mind, no one was trustworthy and everyone could be bought. Virzieth found herself unable to accept any that stepped forward for the position. \n\nSo what if she stepped herself forward? \n\nA few days prior the Countes had sent a vassal to seek out the man and invite him for a meeting. Thankfully, he agreed. \n\nSitting at her desk she patiently awaited her visitor to arrive, for this strange foreigner to grace her office. He was due any moment now. Her elbow rested on her chair cradling her head in her hand, thumb idly tracing the scar across her cheek. \n\nHer attire for the meeting was rather casual but still carried her newfound fashion sense, her white shirt tucked into the corset at her waist left unbuttoned to nearly her sternum. Her handmaidens had been having a field day dressing her since she expressed wanting to change things. This attire clearly showed that. Whatever, if it made her less of an eyesore to The other nobility she could deal with it." }, { "author": "Andreas Featherfall", "message": "Andreas had started to think finding any work as guard of any sort was not going to be possible in his current life in Lazaroth. He'd moved around some while looking but had yet to find anything worthwhile. Some odd jobs had been all he'd gotten as it was not a place he easily had been welcomed into. \n\nHe had tried working something out by saying he was a aasimar since it was known that the aasimar race was a bit more loyal than most. But still he struggled finding anything, he'd about been ready to give up when he was surprised to get a visit by a vassal to invite him to meet with a countess. At first he didn't know if he should except but than remembered he couldn't say no exactly either since he had been invited by someone of a higher status than him and he did need work. \n\nNow a few days later he was heading to meet Countess Izra. He didn't know much about who they were, learned some from the villagers but that was all. He would have to see what the countess wished of him in the meeting he supposed. Andreas didn't have much to dress up with so a simple white tunic, a pair of brown chausses, some leather boots, and a simple cloak to keep the wind at bay while traveling. He didn't very well dress like it was cold out as one probably should in Lazaroth but it didn't seem to both him at all. \n\nHe had been hesitant to bring his weapons with him at first in the past some wished for no weapons to be in the room during a meeting. But he would decide to bring his sword and dagger. Both being strapped to his sides as he made his way to the meeting. He would address who he was and the reason he was at the manor before getting lead to where he was to meet the countess. He couldn't but admire the manor as it had been some years since he'd set foot in a manor quite like this. Hopefully he could prove useful to this countess but only time would tell. He held many of secrets that helped him in most positions he was placed in." }, { "author": "Countess Virzieth Izra", "message": "As he approached the estate a servant would meet him at the doors and guide him through the winding halls of the manor. Staff bustled around them carrying various furnishings and decorations, some actively worked on hanging new tapestries and garlands. They would stop before a set of overbearing double doors, the wood shined from a fresh coat of finish. \n\nAs soon as the servant's knuckles rapped on the door a voice within granted them entry. The servant would open the door and wave the man inside. \n\nThe office was one of the first rooms she finished redecorating. It was where she had been spending the majority of her time after all. It no longer carried the typical Lazarothi decor, instead opting for leather cushions and dark wood finishes. It felt cozy. Homey even. \n\nVirzieth rose to her feet as the door opened rounding her way around the large desk. Now standing at her full stature one could spot the dark steel sword strapped to her hip. The only weaponry she put on full display, but anyone remotely familiar with Lazorothi customs would guess there was more hidden on her body. \n\n\"So you're the one causing such a ruckus.\" Her voice was sultry but carried a gravelly undertone, earned from years of drills and barking orders. Though she leaned casually against her desk hands wrapped around the edge it was clear she was examining him, blue eyes stark against her gray skin looking at him head to toe." }, { "author": "Andreas Featherfall", "message": "Andreas kept up with the servant who lead him into the manor, it seemed there was some redecorating being done to the place. He never understood the need to redecorate if the place already looked fine but that was just his opinion that he kept to himself. They could have a valid reason for wanting to redecorate, maybe making it more their own place.\n\nHe would take note of the room he was entering, it seemed more cozy than other places had. Least someone liked their place to not feel so much like thr winter months all the time. So this was the countess that has called on him. Someone who seemed they knew their way around a sword at least, he didn't like ones who seemed to know nothing about protecting themselves. It always made a job more tedious because the person didn't think of danger being around them.\n\n\"I don't know what kind of ruckus you think I been causing but your informant must have bad hearing. I don't cause a ruckus, unless I have to for a good reason.\" He would look at her as he replied, he didn't like it when someone said he was causing trouble when he clearly hadn't been. All he'd been doing was simply looking for work just like anyone else. If that's ruckus than people need to be more busy. \"Why has the Countess summoned me here today? Surely you didn't just to say I'm causing a ruckus and need to stop.\"" } ]	315	1,372
514.333333	1776-07-04	GuildPublicThread	[ { "author": "Duchess Vierna Argith", "message": "At Noon, within the confines of Syvathere's walls. The Temple devoted to Lunam, Goddess of the Moon, is closed off in private and ceremonial fashion. The arrival of a horse-drawn carriage, a motion of guards stepping out to allow a select few individuals out to behold the private venture. The Duchess and her Aide, Doctor Henryk, given entry to bask in Lunam's light.\n\nFar be it the late hour, such tradition seemed certain for the Duchess. Lunam had always been a key member of the Pantheon for the Lady, and Syvathere in particular. From the origins of her birth, notions of her nature being blessed by the Moon itself had been key in the gossip of others. Dark skin kissed by white dapples, a feature of rare proportion. \n\nArriving in the grand and now empty hall of the Temple, the Matron would be given her respect by the silence and departure of others. Only now her, and her chosen companion. Doctor henryk, perhaps not as used to this timezone nor tradition. Regardless, such a sight would surely keep distractions. Stone pillars, painted glass. Worship key in the minds of many, and at the center of this Temple lay a grand observatory viewing the skies above. And of course, when the time perfectly aligned. - So too did the presence of Lunam herself. \n\nThe Duchess remained draped in her usual prepared gown. - Purple outlines flickering on her figure as her eyes gently scanned the room around. This place felt all too familiar to her. Clearly no cynic, thoughts of Lunam hovering in her mind as she slowly approached the center stage." }, { "author": "Doctor Henryk", "message": "The Shrine of Lunam,\n\nHenryk never had been a man of faith, but recently, he had been questioning his purpose in the grand scheme of the Mother Goddess. Why did he have these visions? Why did the smell of sulphur and ash follow him? _Festering_ in his nostrils?\n\nHe couldn't properly smell the perfume which his fiancée wore, it was masked by the disgusting scent of the Infernium which made him nose blind. The dark circles underneath his eyes grew slightly more profound— the accursed vision of evil given shape stealing the Doctor's much needed rest.\n\nThis eve, Henryk wore a simple black coat, with black slacks and a white dress shirt, as opposed to his usual purple stained leather coat. He dressed more inconspicuously, as if he wished to avoid immediate attention. In a figurative sense, he veiled himself in darkness, because these last few days fear had lingered above his head, and wished to hide from it.\n\nNow that they were alone, Henryk walked slowly, and reserved. But, Vierna could see those wintery eyes scanning her. Observing her every shape and feature. Pursuing his lips, despite carrying tired eyes he could still admire beauty. The way the white speckles upon her skin seemed to shine like stars painted upon the night sky allured him. She was beautiful— and not even hell could take away her magnificence.\n\nAs they approached the centre stage, alone with just her, Henryk placed his hands behind his back, walking beside the She-Elf. He had been incredibly quiet today, but, now that they were alone, he would speak.\n\n\"...You look beautiful, my love.\" Henryk had simply said, looking to her with these softer eyes, before pulling away, looking upon a statue of the moon Goddess. \"The day we meet the Queen grows closer. How do you feel?\" He would ask— reminding her that the two would soon be meeting their Queen. That same Queen whom Vierna had been friends with, serving her as a Hand Maiden, and now as a Duchess." }, { "author": "Duchess Vierna Argith", "message": "What Henryk missed, would be the delicate but powerful scent of nightly flowers that clung to her person. But the Duchess, only ignorant to the plight of her Human lover. But only the full story, as Vierna's curious nature scanned and studied at every difference in the form of her dear Henryk. The taint of tired eyes. The darkening of his attire. She knew him to be a reserved Man, but something felt different in him. Perhaps it were her nature, that she so hated being so far from the truth.\n\nYet, his stares towards her seemed evident. A stranger looking at her in such a manner may have invited a quick path to execution, yet for Henryk, she had grown to offer her subtle acceptance. A smile in kind as she spotted those wintery eyes, the Duchess lost her sense of thought if only for a moment. A moment, that was so rarely ever lost.\n\nThen came his words. Flattery for a Prideful Duchess often would be rewarded rarely, yet would be graced by the brief fluster in her cheeks. A smirk in understanding, yet feeling the slightest of doubt as she spied a far stranger Doctor than before. As a student of Enchantment, she couldn't help but find interest.\n.\n\n\"And you, _Darling,_ deserve better rest.\" - Vierna added with no insult in mind, the Lady offering her concerns quietly under Lunam's grand silhouette. She would brand him a new title. Not of formality, but of a personal nature. Ever more pleasant with her silvery tongue. Naturally, her gaze followed to Lunam's statue. And the question, answered with a hum and a slight shuffle to adjust herself beside Henryk.\n\n\"Hopeful. As much as one can, in a place like this. But..-\" As the Lady paused, a hand would ever carefully reach forward to inspect at Henryk's tie. All to bring the two closer, as a smile showed and her gaze focused upon his. \"Let's not dwell on that. Tell me what you think of Lunam, the Goddess of the Moon..\" - Smile turning to a smirk as she so subtly inched backwards, moving closer to the grand statue and eyeing the Drowish writing flickered below. Scripture of some kind, of Lunam's worship." }, { "author": "Doctor Henryk", "message": "Darling.\n\nThe word would send a shiver down Henryk's spine. It was tantalizing. Goosebumps lined his skin as she spoke to him with such endearment. It was hard not to smile as the pair conversed— when the world felt so bleak, she was his guiding moonlight which illuminated his path.\n\nHis hands parted from behind his back as they walked. Hanging by his sides, he gazed upon the Drowish scripture— texts he was becoming increasingly familiar with time passed, scanning the words briefly, before his gaze would shift up to look upon the grand figure of the Moon God.\n\nWhere Vierna smiled, Henryk would keep a reserved expression as he locked eyes with the stone expression of the deity. These last few days haven't been kind to him— the mind of mortals were cruel, as his enemy appeared not to be outside but within. The Doctor wrestled with new demons now— ones which smelled of Ash & Sulphur. He was never a man of deep faith, he always felt he was accursed, but now more than before had he known it. His daydream— no, that _vision_ had spurred such chaos in his mind. He was claimed. _Marked_ by the devil.\n\nHe couldn't seek divine intervention. He could not seek any sort of godly mercy— because he was already at the mercy to the God of Demons now.\n\n\"...Lunam...\" He simply uttered deity's name, when Vierna asked his thoughts of the God. \"They watch over us, during the night. They protect us when we sleep, or guide travellers underneath the moonlight. A calm, graceful God...\" He would say, his words hanging for but a moment, before adding more. \"...A God who I hope will grant me the right to confess freely of my woes. Of my... _Curse._\" He would then add, as his head slowly craned down to look at his feet.\n\n\"Vierna, the star which guides me through the darkness of night, my fiancée... I have been befallen with something most foul.\" He would express, before raising his head to look towards the Duchess. Worry shrouded his expression, as a darkness seemed to almost loom within his pupils.\n\n\"This— This is not our usual song and dance. I have _seen_ something. I have seen a vision.\" He would explain. \"A vision... Of who I can only claim to be the God of Demons himself.\"" }, { "author": "Duchess Vierna Argith", "message": "The She-Elf expected some cheery speech, a clever line or two bringing thought to the matter of Lunam. Perhaps something playful, enough to incite a far more personal topic? Yet, with every teasing thought, her final descent into his answer would spell only surprise. \n\nA confession. Guilt? Oh, but it was so much more. Vierna couldn't help but narrow her eyes at the Doctor, forced into a pause as he spoke those words. A desperate attempt would be made to decipher at his expression. Perhaps a clever little tease! A hint of a smirk betraying his truth! Yet, it never came.\n\nNo, simply the announcement of an invasion of the mind. His intruder, bearing the mark of a most tainted divinity. Henryk likely saw how she processed the thought, eyes wide and expression blank until a desperate smile.\n\n\"Heh.. Truly? Oh, and I visited the Fae Realms in the time we were away..!\" - A snicker came from her words, held barely longer than a moment as she gazed upon the expression of a Man who clearly found no humour from it. Dread, or whatever demented stain that tainted her dear Henryk's expression. \n\nForcing a halt in her smile, Vierna merely looked over in disbelief. The eyes of judgement, confusion. Desperately, she yearned for some explanation. \n\n\"You're.. Serious? Whatever do you mean..? Tell me this is some.. Jest?\"" }, { "author": "Doctor Henryk", "message": "He would watch as she had gone through the different phases of emotions— One moment, she held that usual smirk and flirtatious expression. Then confusion, bewilderment, and came a laugh of uncertainty. Finally, she reached the conclusion Henryk hadn't been joking— there was no jest, only worry, and festering fear which existed in his eyes.\n\n\"While I was working with Doctor Jones, assisting a patient, that is when it struck me.\" Henryk briefly paced, looking away from Vierna, his head craning upwards to look at Lunam. Looking upon the statues face, he felt as though he was being judged. The face of the Graceful Moon Deity would meet his gaze, as he pondered if they were listening— and if not Lunam, then who?\n\nHe prayed that the Devil had no power here. He desired for sanctuary underneath the moonlight.\n\n\"...One moment, I had been at work, and the next, the world had changed. I no longer stood on floorboards, within the comfort of four walls, instead I stood upon viscera and gore. The scent of ash and sulphur has stuck to my nostrils— no matter how hard I try, I can't seem to wash it out. My blood felt as though it was on fire, and my lungs filled with smoke. I could hardly breathe... And in this... This _vision_, I saw _them._ These figures who stood in titanic proportion. Six of them which flanked a throne of flesh and bone. Six ArchDevils, the audience who watched as their king— their _God_ addressed me.\" \n\nHenryk paused, as he tore away from Lunam's face to look at Vierna. It looked like he was living that moment again, as his breath quivered with anxiety. He recalled the words that Ulmos spoke— words he would site to Vierna.\n\n\"He spoke to me. _Ulmos_ spoke to me. He chastised me— he seemed disappointed... Disappointed it was _I_ who was presented to him.\" He paused, as he thought about what Ulmos said. The meaning behind his discontent. He was _saddled_ to a _spineless healer._ Henryk would come to a realization. If he wasn't having a manic episode, and what Ulmos said was true... Perhaps the Dark God didn't have a choice in the matter of claiming an individual.\n\nNew questions came to mind, and first and foremost... Who made that decision?\n\n\"...But, regardless... He told me I'd do _great things_ for him, in _his_ name.\" Henryk touched his nose, like he did at the clinic when blood leaked freely.\n\n\"Then I was in the clinic again. Nothing had changed. I began to have a nosebleed, and experienced a dizzy spell. Doctor Jones graciously checked to see if I was experiencing a stroke, or had been poisoned, but nothing. Just... Just a nosebleed.\" \n\nHe lowered his hand from his nose, looking upon it, before meeting his gaze with Vierna's own starry blue eyes— those irises which held the night sky within them. He could get lost starring into them, enthralled by their beauty. However right now, he couldn't help but feel worried... _For her._\n\n\"Illness of the mind is a real thing— After my servitude as a soldier, nightmares would frequent me. Sometimes, I swore I was still there. Dragging soldiers behind barricades, performing miracles, only for them to die in my arms.\" His voice lingered a moment. \"...How many have died in my arms?\" He pondered audibly.\n\n\"...I don't believe I am experiencing a manic episode. Never had I been a man of strong faith— but today... Today I am a God fearing man.\" \n\nHis hands balled into fists, brow furrowing as frustration painted his face. \"I sound mad, I know— But I am worried— I fear... I fear whether my vision is true or not, that I'm beginning to lose a grip of myself. I worry for _you,_ my fiancée, because I do not want to hurt you.\"\n\nHe relaxed his fists, opening them. \"...This isn't about my Concubi blood, Vierna... I genuinely think I am cursed.\"\n\nHis expression straightened, as now he would hold this neutral expression, steeling himself. Henryk's chest would rise and fall, as heavy breath escaped his lips. \"I did not want to tell you until now— I pray Lunam will grant me sanctuary, in my time of need.\" \n\n...\n\n\"And I hope he does not allow our love to be ripped asunder, my guiding moonlight.\"" }, { "author": "Duchess Vierna Argith", "message": "Every moment that preceded that sudden realisation, lurked like a horrific ache. What was meant to be a sweet visit at Lunam's Shrine seemed to flourish a horrific retelling. To listen to Henryk in this manner, Vierna couldn't help but struggle. The story he told, oh how it made it so much worse. \n\nAs Henryk suffered through every detail, the She-Elf couldn't help but try and get closer to him. Every stroke of pain she watched him recount, it would feel so strange to witness. Like when he first shared the truth of his Concubi blood. How afraid he was for her, and now it would dawn again. A brave face she would attempt to put on, despite her lover's struggles. \n\nAs he recounted his words, she would remain brushed at his side. A hand trapsed at his darker suit, gripping carefully yet firm while Henryk's stares flickered from Lunam then to his Fiancé. She wanted to interupt him, but struggled to see how. When would the time be appropriate? The mind boggled. \n\nThe God of Demons, Ulmos. She had heard stories of that Vile Tyrant of the Hells. A great horned one, but never would she envision that within her Henryk. What concept was it, regardless, that a God chose a simple mortal soul? She had never heard of such tales. - Of Champions. Then, there was the proposed alternative. An illness of the mind. Trauma, in its most vile, clawing back to provoke the Doctor into emotional guilt. Either way, this was no easy truth. \n.\n\nAs Duchess, her decisions had to be firm and beneficial. Suited for the majority over the individual. But this was no policy, nor a decision of state. This was her role as a partner, and a possible future wife to the plagued Henryk. The hand that previously clung at his suit seemed to linger upwards, moving to trapse at his chin as her smile tried best to reassure him. Under Lunam's light, would Vierna watch closely at the Man and pray best to unravel. \n\n\"..Oh, Henryk.You don't deserve all this plight. Are you.. Are you so certain? Perhaps it was simply a moment. A bad dream that will go away. Just, gone like that. I..-\" \n\n- It was clear how much Vierna hated seeing him like this. Her reassuring looks turned to worry as she puzzled through her words. That stroke at his chin slowing as she watched Henryk's every motion. Why him? Within moments, her tone tried to shift. An alternative path, an attempt at something else. One, she so guiltily considered.\n\n\"Close your eyes for me, Darling. Let me help..\" - The hand at his chin fluttered up once more to trace up against his hair, that smile returning only to try and reassure once more before her attempts seemed evident. A gentle prod with her Enchantment magic, Vierna would attempt to pluck at his mind albeit hesitantly." }, { "author": "Doctor Henryk", "message": "Henryk would take his own hand to hold her own, as she touched his visage. He would nuzzle his cheek into her hand, before guiding it to the side of his temple, a clear invitation to enact her arcane arts.\n\nWith a poke and prod, to view the mind of Doctor Henryk was like walking through a marsh after rainfall— it was muddy, as a mix of negative emotions brewed within his form. Fear, anxiety, frustration— the usual suspects. Yet, a dark shadow seemed to loom over his mind. As she peered within his mind, she'd be able to glimpse what he had envisioned.\n\nAs their minds had connected through the arcane arts of Enchantment, her nose would become filled with the smell of ash and sulphur— the putrid scent that has been lingering within Henryk's nostrils these past days. To accompany such a foul smell, the Enchantress would be witness to the shadow that haunted Henryk. Its shape a darkened devil, with tattered bat wings, accompanied with long, great, and terrifying horns. Finally, this _heat._ The fires which stokes the Infernium's flames licked her skin— although no fire had been near the two, the heat was becoming increasingly evident as she had observed the mind palace which had belonged to the Doctor.\n\nHenryk's forehead grew tense, as he let out a sharp breath— he was beginning to remember being there again in more vivid colours. His recollection of events past becoming more keen as his blood began to boil again.\n\n`\"You belong to me, little healer. And you will do great things in my name.\"` Is what the Great Horned One said. Ulmos's tainted words, announcing his claim over the Doctor. The curse which now possessed his mind— his shattering mind which segmented and splintered every passing day.\n\nThis was not the result of mental illness— but because Henryk was witness to something eldritch. A glimpse at something forbidden. Are mortals meant to be able to see such a great and powerful entity?\n\nDoctor Henryk groaned, as his grip on his fiancée's hand grew just a little tighter, holding her for comfort." }, { "author": "Duchess Vierna Argith", "message": "_Let me help._ A proposal offered with such confidence, yet beyond it lay that trickle of concern. A motivation for her to try her very best, to pluck at these thoughts within and attempt to calm them. A hope with notable pauses, as her fingers soon traced at the Doctor's head and her own eyes plunged into a white light. Into his thoughts she attempted to go, under the watchful gaze of Lunam. \n\nAnd there, in a shimmer of mist and an endless void, would she feel herself awake under an imaginined realm. Falling deeper with use of her magic, ethereal eyes spied the fluster of emotions that raced in Henryk's thoughts. Frustration? Fear..? There was little she could do with that for now, as the taint of Sulphur struck her too. \n\nThe background of bright light descended into a harrowing crimson, Vierna starting to feel herself have to hold more firm in order to keep this thought. Darker, and darker.. Until the shadow of great horns towered above all. The heat - Oh how she felt it? How could she feel it..? Something felt ever so wrong. The Duchess wanted to leave, feeling an intruder in a most tainted event. There, she set eyes upon a God, too. Atleast, how Henryk had claimed to see it. \n\nSuddenly, Vierna would feel the air taken out of her as her eyes shot open. That hazey blur now fazing back to her natural sapphire, alwhile as she huffed in the hold of the Doctor. Her expression would say it all. What she had only faintly seen, was what Henryk had seen in its entirety. And yet, it still didn't make sense. It couldn't have been real.\n\n\"Gods.. A troubled man can't think such things on his own.\" \n\nSurprise rang at her breathless words, midway finding composure. Alarmed eyes scanning over the face of her Fiancé, a looming worry filtering at her thoughts. She couldn't help herself, leaning in to embrace Henryk in a hug. \n\n\"I.. I don't think I can get rid of something like that. But, you don't have to focus on it. Think.. Think about something nice. Maybe.. Maybe us?\"" }, { "author": "Doctor Henryk", "message": "Henryk leaned into her form as she hugged him, pulling the two into an embrace as his arms wrapped around her in a vice, holding her closely to him— not letting go. He held her in a mix of affection for his lover, and fear to not lose her. He was afraid— not for himself, but for her.\n\nHenryk would speak, pulling himself back for her a little bit, while his hands held her shoulders. His head craned slightly to look down at her with a concerned look.\n\n\"I don't think this is something I can simply _get rid of._ When I think of us... I think about what the demon whose invaded my life may do to _us._ Gods Vierna— I'm _afraid._ Never in my life have I ever felt so much fear of what I could be capable of...\" \n\nHe pursed his lips, the storm within his irises had been brewing— dark rain clouds seemed to linger in those eyes of his. Uncertainty. Fear. All things she was acquainted with— all things Henryk has wrestled with.\n\nThe Doctor would relinquish his grip on Vierna, pulling his hands away. \"I— I don't want to hurt _you._\" He spoke with a quivering voice. Both hands reaching up for his forehead, fingers pushing his raven hair back. \n\n\"...I— I must seek console... I must find something— _anything_ that'll give me the answer... I need illumination of the divine— I...\" Henryk lowered his hands, before looking up to the statue of Lunam, brows furrowing. \"...Alynthi... The Temple of the Gods...\" Henryk spoke in a slight mutter, loud enough for Vierna to hear him, as he turned his head to the Duchess.\n\n\"My love... My guiding moonlight... I don't know what is happening to me— I do not know of what demons curse me... But... I can't let them rip us asunder.\" He would say with growing conviction. He balled his hands into fists, eyes meeting with hers. Fear of the uncertainty turning into reluctant bravery— the willingness to venture unknown waters.\n\n\"If we are to marry, you must promise me one thing...\" The Doctor took a pace back to her, a hand reaching out for her cheek in order to hold it. \"...Don't lose sight of me no matter what.\" His tone grew softer, as he spoke to her practically in a whisper. \n\n\"...And so long as I am betrothed to you, I will continue to aspire for great things— _Good,_ honest things because I know that is what you expect of me— No, because it is what I am capable of doing. I will not let _whatever_ plagues my mind fell me. Not even a _God.\"_ \n\nHis eyes would maintained locked onto her own irises— his gaze observing the starlight which was held within her own irises. He swore, for a moment, there was a shooting star held within them. A wish— A wish he would work hard to make come true.\n\n\"I must venture to Alynthi for answers... The Temple of the Gods... It'll be there where I'll find the guidance I need... Guidance to keep the Great Horned One at bay...\"\n\nThe Doctor paused for a moment— pausing his near-incoherent ramblings. He took a deep breath, and sighed heavily.\n\n\"I _will_ return.\" His off hand would place a hand to her chest, lapsing over Vierna's heart. \"Because home is where the heart is at... And you possess mine.\" He gave her a shallow smile, and a husk chuckle. \"I love you.\"" }, { "author": "Duchess Vierna Argith", "message": "Rarely did the two find time for an embrace like this, that much clear. A shame, in her mind, that it had to come at a time where joy wasn't the only emotion they now felt. Tight, was their hold. Practically inseperable, until the need for Henryk to do so arose. A struggling expression forced itself upwards at Henryk, parted lips and a stride of concern as her dear Doctor spoke of worry like nothing before. The enigma of his Concubi blood paled in comparison to the supposed Demon that invaded his mind and thoughts. \n\nVierna wanted to reassure him like she had done before, but couldn't bare to interupt. The struggles Henryk had found himself in, oh how they impacted at his lover, too. A tinge of sadness flickering at the expression of the typically proud Drow. A helplessness, that reminded her that perhaps she couldn't do everything in this life. \n.\n\n\"..Alynthi..?\" - The suggestion of the Temple, oh how it was a peculiar thought. Vierna knew, had it been a lesser issue, perhaps she would've argued. Perhaps now even, the thought of having him leave just seemed so ugly. An ugliness, that seemed insistent as Henryk spoke of promises. Her expression would remain mixed, unsure whether to hate him for his need to find these answers or to take pride in the one she loved. An emotional toll, that brought the usually sociable Duchess to clear silence. \n\nSapphire eyes scanned across the face of the man, seeking understanding, composure in an otherwise troubling moment. Perhaps this was what he needed, perhaps it was a trial for the both of them. _I will return._ Such words, she felt she could trust. His hand feeling over her heart, it could do little but reassure her at the very least that he was trying. For a matter so insane to the mind, perhaps that's all they needed. \n\nFor a moment her worries would ease, the faintness of a smile as she leaned forward not to offer words, but to offer a kiss. Hands gripped at his chin as she did, it would be quick and notable as she then leaned back. A smile, albeit a sad one. \"Hush, and go. Save your colourful words for when you return, darling. I will be waiting..\"" }, { "author": "Doctor Henryk", "message": "Henryk had kissed her back, holding it for just a moment longer— the fear, the anxiety, all of that would melt away in the moment as she would build his resolve— build his strength as he prepared to embark on his pilgrimage of his. He was a man who needed answers, a man who plagued himself with _knowing,_ constantly enlightening himself and lifting the veil of ignorance.\n\nWhen he pulled his lips back, he looked down at her, and gave her a prompt nod. \"How could I deserve such a woman?\" He would simply say, sharing his own smile. \"...As I said, you carry the stature of a Queen.\"\n\nAlthough he didn't want to tear away, he must. He would relinquish her, taking a pace back. \"I bid you adieu, my love. I will return as soon as I can...\"\n\nHe would dip his head, giving her a bow, as he was still her doctor, and she his duchess. However soon that will change once the Queen recognizes the pair as husband and wife. \n\nAnd now, he ventured off— chasing the light, and casting himself off into the darkness..." } ]	472	6,172
386	1776-07-04	GuildPublicThread	[ { "author": "Countess Virzieth Izra", "message": "The town was abuzz, more than it had been in quite some time. The Izra estate was no different. Servants hurried two and fro, gardeners trimmed so carefully at the flowers in the courtyard, and the countess herself fidgeted before the entrance. \n\nThe Duchess was coming, the letter proclaimed it to be only a social visit, but it was coming at possibly the worst time possible. Preparations for the wedding were underway, a tailor would be in later today with samples, and gods there was so much to do. \n\nVirzieth had been in the middle of discussing alters and seatings with the head butler when she received word of the Duchess's incoming arrival. By the grace of the gods she made it outside before they crossed the gates\n\nShe hadn't the time to change but as she smoothed out the wrinkles in her shirt she sorely wished she did. A simple black tunic, sleeves rolled to her elbows, and trousers were all she wore. A small smudge of dirt ran across her cheek from her morning spent helping the gardeners decide on floral arrangements. \n\nRegardless, Virzieth held herself proud, hands clasped before her and a gentle smile across her features as the duchess approached." }, { "author": "Duchess Vierna Argith", "message": "Some would say the true test of ones' character can be found upon the most sudden of challenge. A trial by fire, within the land of cold. Upon the planning of a wedding, so too came the business of a meeting. Between liege and vassal. Noble to Noble. Or perhaps for Virzieth, commoner still remained the far familiar title? \n\nThe Matron of Syvathere set to grace Inyelion with her presence. The Duchess bearing the crest of House Argith. The flurry of a guarded escort came, armoured horsemen guiding the detailed carriage of Noble design. Through the gates and their trail through the Town before, the highlight of a Noble meet rarely ever was ignored. \n\nLarge travelling horses halted upon their riders' command, the carriage soon easing into calm before the rush of a servant moved to the carriage door. A formality that nonetheless caught many eyes, and even more as the Lady Vierna Argith stepped on out to the view of the Izra estate. \n\nUnlike the Countess, ever busy in her tiresome new life, the Duchess seemed fully prepared in appearance and style. A mastery over the years, however simple a concept. Silvery locks decorated under a braided style, save for the length that rang down to her shoulders. A gown, clinging at her figure yet never seeming too excessive. The familiar image of the Duchess that she met not too long ago, upon inspections of the Military. \n\nA curious stare first flickered from her expression, a general inspection moving faintly across the courtyard before a smile composed her vigor. With escort of a few natural guards of her House, would she set sights on the Countess patiently awaiting her. \n.\n\nTo come upon a most busy time, Vierna seemed to note it rather quickly. The Countess in a state some may quickly gossip about, yet to Vierna she forever placed her curiousity of the shift from Commoner to Nobility. Behind that smile, a slow burning need to figure out her vassal. This meet was not just a formality, but an attempt to drive their relationship to more than simply mutters. \n\nAnd especially, this knowledge of the planning in particular. A marriage, she had heard of. An arrangement, that dare she consider had happened at her very Estate. An opener for conversation, she imagined. Soon a faint distance away from the awaiting Countess, the Duchess would offer her smile and nod. - And await the Countess' introduction as she assumed not to so rudely interupt her attempts." }, { "author": "Countess Virzieth Izra", "message": "Virzieth bowed low before the duchess the butler beside her mirroring her actions. Her movements were vastly different than their first meeting, the bow of a more proper noble. Likely the result of further etiquette training. \n\n\"Your Grace, I hope your trip was well?\" The countess rose back up as she spoke waiting another breath the descend the stairs to join her. \n\nUpon her further approach to the other woman her haggard appear became more apparent. Though the countess wore a polite smile and a welcoming air, darkened circle framed the bottom of her blood shot eyes her face frames by stray white hair that escaped her simple pony tail.\n\nWhen had she slept last? Rested even? Virzieth vaguely recalled falling asleep at her desk sometime in the night, but that couldn't have been more than a few minutes. \n\nHere beside the Duchess, who very well could be the most beautiful woman Virzieth had seen, she looked no better than a street urchin. Wrinkled clothes and dirtied hands. What a way to greet the woman responsible for her position.\n\nHow the hell was she ever going to look presentable enough for the queen herself?" }, { "author": "Duchess Vierna Argith", "message": "At some distance, it was quite difficult to realise the true state of the busy Countess. Every step she took, unfolded more the not so subtle details. Tired eyes, rustled attire and the specks of dirt on her hands. A look that she truly couldn't so simply ignore. But of judgement, the Duchess would make no showcase of disapproval just yet. \n\nHaving been approached in her final steps, the Lady Vierna would ease her own movement to a halt. A free hand extended out elegantly to her side, the puffs of her dress extended simply as her gaze awaited Virzieth with the intrigue she had deserved. The bow came quickly, far better rehearsed than that act back in Syvathere. A thought to note, nestled deep in her inquisitive mind. As of now, she would make acknowledgement with the slightest bow of her head. Then, that all too familiar smile. \n\n\"Lady Izra. The trip was certainly something, though not nearly as comparable as your Estate. And ever so eventful..\" - That silvery tongue returned, her tone showcasing no malice or deception as her eyes quietly scanned at the bustle of servants and notions of planning. With the slightest gesture her hands would then meet, stepping forward with the shift of a smile to a smirk. \n\n\"Oh, but expected! After an announcement like that, that I've heard so much about. Gossip in the Court would say you made such a decision in my very Estate..?\" - A soft murmur that showcased Vierna's amusement, the quick question fluttering quickly past as the Duchess proceeded on approach. With it, the offering of her arm. \n\n\"Please, let's simply talk. Gift yourself a break and enjoy some company. You must have a favoured spot for a small thing like that..?\"" }, { "author": "Countess Virzieth Izra", "message": "\"Yes, there is much to do. I hope you don't mind.\" A thought that hadn't crossed her mind till this moment. Was it impolite for the staff to continue their preparations while the Duchess was here? Surely not? \n\nVirzieth only offered a polite smile in return to the Duchess's speculations. Another question came to mind. Was it impolite to propose at another's estate? It's not like it was a grand event, it was anything but. She thought to play it safe and avoid confirming such ideas. Instead, she hooked her arm with the other woman's.\n\n\"I would like that very much. There's a lovely gazebo in the courtyard that I think you'd rather enjoy your grace.\" Virzieth began leading her up the steps the butler opening the door for the way. As they moved in tandem her awkward gait was more apparent, though her limp had become far less visible it was still very much there. The physician had been watching her like a hawk following the news of her pitiful spar with Zaknafein, which had set her progress back more than she wanted to admit. With the visit of the tailor would also come a fitting for heels, her first pair. Those would be a whole new headache for her and the doctor. \n\nStepping inside the estate, it did not seem like a place a woman like Matron Izra would live, though it was clear some improvements were being made. Some of the stale white furniture had been switched for darker more homey pieces. \n\n\"I hope you can excuse the mess, along with preparations and repairs, I've been making the place a bit more like home.\" It had been a gradual process before, the focus of work being on repairs but now with the wedding soon, it became more of a priority. At the very least it allowed her to give work to the people, especially now during winter which often meant such a thing was hard to find." }, { "author": "Duchess Vierna Argith", "message": "\"Oh, Please. Assume me no obstacle to your planning.\" - Quick to dismiss any such thoughts, the Duchess was clear to reminder her of her words. Busy staff were often times at their most useful, regardless. And truly, showed their character the best.\n\nVierna's initial lean into gossip caught a surprising reaction, it had seemed. Her question came, and no answer returned. Instead, the sly tinge of brushing past the very topic. The trade, of a clever socialite. Intentional or not, Vierna would be keen to notice. The Matron ignored, and in some way showcasing the character of one perhaps so frightened of stepping on this new path of Nobility. \n\nRegardless, arms wrapped, their little social meet would begin! The Duchess, in all her elegant fashion, took it with stride and accompanied each passing step for Virzieth to guide her along. Notably, however, seemed the state of injury that lingered on the currently messy Matron. An uncomfortable shift or so, Vierna quietly noticed. A politeness offered however, as she seemed to try and help adjust along the way up the stairs and into the entrance of the Noble Estate. \n\n\"Mmh..\" - The slightest of hum, Vierna tracked an observant glance about the interior renovations. The hallmark of a New Matron, yet one so ignorant to the styles and culture of High class lifestyle. In her thoughts, it had amused her to hear she remark on making it more like home. Of that, she wondered how exactly she meant.\n.\n\n\"And why wouldn't you..? Thrust into this life, it must be so strange to get used to. Ooh, I forgot to mention. - I had this Wine brought from my Estate. An early gift, perhaps? Or an excuse to distract you from exerting yourself, heh.\" - With a brief beckon of her hand, an accompanying servant of hers presented the fancy bottle of Lazarothi wine. On closer look, perhaps Virzieth may have spied its familiar style to one she had shared with Zafnakein those many moons ago. \n\n\"Shall we drink..? We both need it.\" - Vierna grinned, allowing guidance to appropriate seating." }, { "author": "Countess Virzieth Izra", "message": "Virzieth did all she could to not lean too far into the adjustment offered by the Duchess, instead continuing to bear her weight on her own. She knew, of course, there was likely already a maid waiting with her cane in hand for her to call too. But she could not continue to show that weakness while Vierna was here, instead she had to showcase her improvement. \n\nEven in the Duchess's honey sweet voice those words felt like a jab. Another finger pointing out that Virzieth did not fit in quite enough yet. Home to her was nothing like how nobility would see it. Eyesore furniture that served little function other than showcasing ones wealth, Virzieth lost track of how many times she had to ask the staff just what this piece was for. \n\n\"You are too kind your grace.\" Upon glancing at the bottle held out to her its familiar look was not lost on the Countess. It was a bottle she had used often to avoid her now fiance's gaze during their meal. If it was simply a coincidence or a slight she wasn't sure. \"I think we have certain earned it. Z'ress if you could?\" Virzieth turned to look over her shoulder at the butler who had stood beside her at the doors and now trailed behind them as they walked. Upon her request the man retrieved the bottle from the waiting servants hands and left into an adjoining hall to presumably open the bottle and grab glasses for the pair. \n\nIt did not take long to pass through the entrance hall out into a center courtyard in which their intended gazebo seating waited at its center. The yard must've been the former countess's pride and was yet to be touched by Virzieth hands. Numerous bushes of colorful flowers lined the walkways, hedges still trimmed to perfection. The new Countess had not yet decided how she had wanted to change the space, she found the grand nature much but still understood the charm of it all.\n\n.\n\nLeading the Duchess into the waiting structure a small table, fit only for a pair, awaited them. \"Shall we?\" Virzieth motioned to the chair waiting for her superior to sit first." }, { "author": "Duchess Vierna Argith", "message": "Every detail had its story. The Duchess couldn't help but note the struggle Virzieth had put herself through. - the slightest support offered seeming dismissed for the sake of presentation. Vierna chose not to prod on the state of her leg, neither her need to prove herself. Stability often came with time, and for one so formerly common, she likely desired to prove herself worthy.\n\nA smile exchanged at the approval of the wine, Vierna allowed some hint of innocence to remain as they walked to this supposedly perfect structure. She intended to hold her tongue until the view of the gazebo. And there, ample seating. By formality she was offered to sit first, likely a tactic learned recently. Regardless, Vierna indulged it with a nod and that signature positivity.\n\n_\"You weren't lying, Matron. This place is lovely! Perfect, for our meet.\"_ - Vierna offered with a hopeful gleam in her tone, spying the gazebo and its surroundings as she sat, soon cross legged as she made herself comfortable. _\"And away from the noise of our dutiful lives. I find it useful, that we learn to enjoy these moments. And with this privacy, some privileges.\"_ Now seated, Vierna seemed particularly quick with that tongue of hers. Leading the topic with a smile, Vierna played into her diplomatic background to attempt some way of easing the horrors of Noble life. \n\n_\"There will be no Matrons between these words. Simply words shared between Vierna and Virzieth, heh..? And of course, some Wine to keep these topics so interesting.\"_ - A request, offered in a friendly tone. Genuine or not, the offer was made. Vierna was an Argith, afterall. Generations of their mark in High Nobility. Twisted magic of Enchantment origin taught within their Academies as they held the title of Syvathere firmly. Could Virzieth truly trust her? The mind boggled, as Lazaroth remained a complex game." } ]	403	3,088
357.551724	1776-07-04	GuildPublicThread	[ { "author": "Doctor Jones", "message": "The night was quiet, calm, peaceful, as it always was. At night, there were no expectations. Rarely did people get hurt around these hours, because the world was mostly asleep, allowing the Doctor a rare moment of respite. They'd normally try to spend this time asleep. Catch up on some of that rest their body desperately needed, because they sure as hell weren't getting enough of it. However, sometimes they were unable to sleep. Sometimes, they were trapped in their head, stuck in the memories of the past, haunted by everything they did wrong in their long life - there was no way sleep would come when they were like that.\n\nNo one else seemed to be awake at this hour, the estate had been practically deserted, and so they'd been able to slip out easily, wearing their dark coat over their usual clothing in an attempt to protect them from the cold. It was somewhat successful, though to be fair, when they were this despondent, they hardly noticed the cold anyway.\n\nA short walk, and they were gone, away from it all. In moments like these, it started to feel like they were the only person on the planet - a feeling that was far from bad. Sometimes, being alone felt like the best thing. It allowed them to lower their guard and just be, just exist for a little while. There was no worrying about patients, no worrying about their past, all that they had to do was to take one step at a time at their own pace, with only the light of the moon shining through the forest's trees to guide them.\n\nThe Doctor walked slowly, trudging through the snow, eventually coming to a halt at a completely random location. With the aid of their tinderbox, there was a brief flash of light, and then, after a few tries, a cigarette being lit up. This was something they weren't very experienced in, inexperience that showed when they inhaled a deep lungful of smoke and immediately broke out into coughs, grimacing at the Awful Burning feeling.\n_ _\n\nBut... It helped. No matter how much it burned, they instantly felt calmer. The Doctor took another lungful of smoke, and though they coughed it out again, their coughs were a little less violent this time - it always took them a few moments to get used to this. With the next one, they only needed to cough a few times, and with the one after that, it stopped entirely.\n\nEyes half-lidded, they leaned against a nearby tree, right arm crossed over their chest, left holding the cigarette close to their mouth to occasionally take a drag. The scent of Devil's Root drifted through the air around them, and in the dark night, one with good enough vision might be able to see the glowing red tip of their cigarette whenever they inhaled. They were barely paying attention to their surroundings, and for once, one might be able to sneak up on them - but they would probably barely respond, no matter what ended up happening." }, { "author": "Andreas Featherfall", "message": "With the cold, crisp, clear night Andreas would be out flying. He always enjoyed the more late night to early morning flights usually since he was able to see when the dark sky would start to lighten up. Thouh for this night he would be out because he had been struggling to sleep and feel calm. Deciding that flying would be his first choice tonight over finding someone secretly selling Bane to make him sleep. He didn't always used to use drugs, it used to be something he thought was not really needed for helping but now he couldn't live without some type corsing through his system. Though Reverie Sticks was his usual choice he'd tried almost all of the ones through the years. Some just did better and some just weren't worth it.\n\nAndreas would be high up in the sky, soaring all the way up to the point he felt as if he could touch the stars before folding his wings in and free falling. The sound of the air rushing by his ears, the bitter cold slicing at his skin, and the feeling of his feathers trying desperately to catch the air but unable to filled him with a strange sense of fear and thrill as he fell. Andreas had done this so many times over the years he could sense when the ground was close enough he needed to open his wings, though he would always push past that normal feel of when it was safe to open your wings and not cause pain. Waiting to a last second where if you waited just a second more you couldn't pull up in time. He would count out the seconds to impact, almost wondering if he should just let him hit the ground before finally opening his wings and gliding just barely over a hill before letting his wings carry him back up into the safety of the sky. \n\nHe let out a dry chuckle as he thought about his mindset in the last few moments. No, he couldn't allow himself off that easy, there was still too much to do yet.\n\nToo much to pay for the mistakes off the past. Putting a hand to his head he wondered if just getting some Bane would have been a better idea than dealing with his own thoughts at the moment. It sure was sounding better by the second than flying all night and getting nowhere.\n\nHe was thinking of turning back to the town and looking for someone to sell him some Bane or something really strange to knock him out when he would catch a whif of something. Stopping for a moment he would try to pin point where the scent was coming from. Looking over the forest he would try to see a fire. Someone was using Devil's Root, but there was no fire from logs. Had a person gotten lost? He knew there was days some did but it didn't quite seem like it. Deciding this probably was a better idea than going for the drugs just yet, he would head down into the forest. Looking till he found the light of a small flame, there. That is where the person was, the scent of Devil's Root was also much closer so he knew he had found the spot. Andreas wondered who could be out this late, especially during the cold. Though his want of Devil's Root was clouding his mind a bit more than needed. Heading down into the forest floor, he landed close to Jones. His landing completely silent as he had learned how to be just that over the years.\n\nGoing slow, he would look around for any danger. Making sure there was only the one person before heading out of the shadows in front of them. \"A little late and cold to be in the woods for a smoke don't you think? Especially for one that looks a bit more on the struggles with this cold.\"" }, { "author": "Doctor Jones", "message": "Usually, a person coming close when there wasn't anyone else nearby would have alerted the Doctor. They would have sensed the flowing of blood in their body, or heard something, anything like it - but not when under the influence as much as they were. The estate they were staying at probably could have exploded and they wouldn't have noticed right now. They didn't mind that so much, to be honest. It was nice to be able to let go of all that sometimes, to be able to ignore the external stimuli that could get more than a little overwhelming sometimes, only focusing on the steady beating of their heart and their breathing.\n\nWith the way they seemed fully relaxed, their eyes closed, an onlooker might actually feel like they were asleep, which frankly wasn't too far from the truth. They really were about to fall asleep at any moment now - until a voice startled them suddenly.\n\nOn instinct, the Doctor was about to push out their smoke and make a run for it, standing up straight in a position that looked like they were about to attempt just that, before they realized that the drug was legal in Lazaroth, and they didn't have to worry about that. They let out a breath, then took a few deep breaths as they relaxed again, trying to get their heart to stop racing. And they'd just managed to calm down fully before this stranger showed up. What a pain...\n\nThey said nothing for a few moments, only taking another drag, slowly exhaling the smoke as they examined the stranger. An Aasimar, huh. Those were rare around these parts. Not rare enough for them to truly worry about it, though.\n\n\"What do you want?\" They only asked coolly, back leaned against the tree once more. \"If you have nothing interesting to say, kindly leave me alone, will you?\" Their voice was low and soft, and though they were looking in the vague direction of the stranger, they clearly weren't paying all that much attention to him, more staring straight ahead without really seeing a thing." }, { "author": "Andreas Featherfall", "message": "Andreas couldn't help but chuckle at the Doctors reaction when he first spoke. It seemed that they were used to running once caught with a Devil's Root which meaned they weren't from around here. He remembered himself doing some of the same things back when he was in places that certain drugs were illegal. Hell he was planning on finding one illegal everywhere tonight yet still he used it. Though to see someone being that jittery just made him feel amused.\n\nThough seeing that the elf was about to fall asleep it probably was good that he come because of the smell of the Devil's Root. It wouldn't be good for them to fall asleep out in the cold. He had seen more than a few who done just that and were found dead the next morning because they didn't realize how cold their really were. He would fold his wings closer to his back, sticking his hands in his pockets since he didn't want to seem threatening. In all honesty all he wanted was the Devil's Root but he was not going to take it. Probably watching over this elf was a good idea, make sure they got back to were they were staying safely.\n\nHe would walk closer as he observed the Doctor, they really seemed out of it. He probably looked the same when he took something. \"I came to check out why someone would be in the forest smoking up Devil's Root by themselves. Especially on a cold night and when they look like they about to just fall over asleep... I'm sure I have plenty of interesting things to say if needed but I doubt you would remember any of it in the morning... I think you shouldn't be left alone though when you this out of it. And I would know, not the best when it's cold out. Doubt a elf wants to end up a frozen one because they fell asleep.\" Andreas wings would fluff out slightly before setting into their natural resting. He always had a bit of a \"Tic\" Almost with his wings. Though most was just more of jitters when around drugs probably, he did use them quite a lot." }, { "author": "Doctor Jones", "message": "That chuckle... Right, to someone that seemed to be from this area, their reaction was likely more than a little silly. Maybe normally, the Doctor would have felt any way about it, but right now, they found it hard to care. They were calm, relaxed - a true rarity for them indeed. Not too long after, they'd fully calmed down again, seeming just about ready to start falling asleep once more - but apparently the stranger had other plans.\n\nThe Doctor opened one eye to look at him as he spoke, trying and failing to let his words go in one ear and out the other. Part of them wanted to tell him to leave them alone, but... He did have a point. Though they didn't feel the cold so much anymore, that tiny nagging voice at the back of their mind knew that they were going to freeze if they stayed out here alone. The weather was a lot colder in this country than they were used to, after all - they could have gone out and wandered like this in Findara, but in Lazaroth, it was not a great idea. Well... Whatever. Who really cared if they froze, right?\n\nTheir attention was captured by the movements of those wings, gaze so focused on it they seemingly forgot to blink for a few moments. \"...Do what you want,\" The Doctor muttered eventually, not looking him in the eye. Instead, they slowly extended their right hand to one of the stranger's wings, leaning forward in an attempt to touch it. The fact that he knew exactly what drug they were on didn't register in their mind, nor the fact that he seemed to know exactly what their mental state was like, all they wanted right now was to experience what had to be an incredible softness and warmth." }, { "author": "Andreas Featherfall", "message": "This elf really seemed out of it. Andreas couldn't help but seem a bit worried at their reaction of almost falling asleep. It wouldn't be good out here and yet their were doing just about that. He wondered if he should just drag them back into town. Least if they were in an inn they wouldn't be a problem?.\n\nAndreas rationality was not really there though as he would get closer to them. He could make sure they got back safe after. All he needed was some of the drug... Was he really planning on taking from this fellow? Maybe? It couldn't hurt when they were so out of it anyways. Plus they literally didn't care what he did, yes it was the drug talking but so what? He used more than a drug before to get what he wanted.\n\nAndreas would freeze for a moment at the doctor reaching out. He was close enough by now they could reach his wings if they wanted. Should Andreas let them? He could get something out of it, all he have to do was take the drug and let the dazed elf touch his wings. Why were they even wanting to? Sighing Andreas redolve ended, yes he wanted the drug and frankly he was going to get it but for the moment he decided to play a bit more dangerous. Leaning closer he would support his weight against his right hand as he placed it against the tree Jones as leaned against. Looking down at this elf and really studying their features. Allowing his wings to spread out slightly so they could actually get to feel them. Though he wasn't just going to let them touch his wins for free, no he would have their smoke before they could even register they were holding it anymore because Andreas would take in a lungfull of the Devil's Root. His body instantly relaxing more as the drug would enter his system. Breathing out the smoke slowly so as not to blow it into the doctors face. \"Well don't mind if I do whatever I want. And at the moment that means making sure you don't become an elf popsicle because you fall asleep.\"\n\nAndreas couldn't help but wonder a bit about this elf story. Maybe he would learn it or maybe not. Did it really matter if he did? No, it wasn't important for now. He'd got what he wanted and that would be enough. \"Have a fancy for wings do you? Or you just so relaxed you thinking something else all together on what you seeing?.\"" }, { "author": "Doctor Jones", "message": "Perhaps the Doctor should have protested when the Aasimar took the drug from them, but they barely registered it at all, too transfixed by those wings. For a moment, they glanced up at him, head tilted slightly, as if they were trying to form a coherent thought, but it soon enough didn't seem important to their exhausted mind anymore.\n\nNo, there was one thing that did seem important, and that was those wings. The Doctor didn't notice how close the stranger was standing, only that those wings were within their reach now.\n\nThough their fingers were cold, their touch was gentle, and they made sure not to damage a feather as they very gently brushed across the soft wings, lips parted slightly in amazement. It was so soft, and so warm... Right now, that comforting sensation was all that they needed and wanted. In fact, so comforting was it that there was an incredibly rare sight upon their face - lips curled into the tiniest of smiles as the Doctor moved their hand down, lightly petting the feathered surface.\n\n\"It's... Nice,\" They said softly, gaze remaining transfixed on where their hands were. It made them wonder, briefly, on what it would be like to fly. To be able to spread one's wings and take off, just like that, whenever one wanted. It must be amazing, to fly into the sky, free from everything down below, free from worries, from strife, from all that was wrong. Just... Up there, in the sky. Free, but so utterly, utterly alone.\n\nA silent tear ran down their face, and another, and another - but the Doctor didn't notice a thing, too out of it to even feel the warm streaks on their face quickly turning cold." }, { "author": "Andreas Featherfall", "message": "Andreas would chuckle, it was a rare sight to see someone so transfixed on his wings. Though it had also been a very long time since he'd ever let someone touch his wings. He didn't know why he even was letting them touch, but what surprised him the most was how gentle and soft they were while doing it. If he had been normal he probably wouldn't have noticed the doctors touch that much, probably hardly at all. But with giving himself to being a vampire his senses were always more. Feeling their fingers gliding down his wings in almost a cautious way, he didn't know really what to think about having the doctor touching them.\n\nTo clear his mind a bit with his conflicted feeling on it racing through his head he would take another drag, letting the drug do its work as he keep himself steady against the tree. Letting the doctor get to see a bit more he would open up his one wing. Letting them get to see the full length of just one wing. It really was impressive with how big they were and how someone even could handle it. Though his wings weren't white didn't seem to go noticed with made Andreas feel a bit better. Most knew black wings were a bad sign for a aasimar. Though his weren't really back either a mix that seemed to stay. Though it wasn't noticed in the dark either for such a thing.\n\nAndreas would tense up at seeing the doctor starting to cry. Why were they crying? Did something go wrong? Were they in pain? Did a memory come back? He knew himself how painful a member could be of something but why cry while looking at wings? Andreas thought about trying to comfort the doctor but how? He didn't know them or anything this was all just a random meeting and they were out of it on Devil's Root. \"Uh... Yes, they are nice aren't they...Andreas decided to try some, would they react badly? Taking the Devil's Root he would switch it to his other hand, letting his left hand be free as he would slowly reach out.\n\nWiping away a few tears gently as he looked down at the elf.\n\nHe didn't know why he was caring, maybe seeing them crying just set something off in him \"Hey now... What's got you so down? I'm sure everything will be alright, your not alone right now. If you want to talk you got an ear, if not you can touch my wings and ask whatever you want about them.\" He didn't know if what he was doing was even going to work but he wanted to try and cheer them up maybe just a little. He did hate seeing such a reaction, mostly because he caused a lot of others to act like that in his past." }, { "author": "Doctor Jones", "message": "It seemed the Doctor was happy just continuing to trace their fingers over the soft feathers, even more so when their full size was revealed, hands ever so gently brushing over the feathers at the end that were larger than their arms. Though they did vaguely notice the dark tint the wings had to them, they didn't mention it, assuming it to just be a regular Aasimar thing - their knowledge of the species was limited at best, having had relatively few run-ins with them, and so the whole Fallen aspect went right over their head.\n\nGenuine surprise flashed across their face when the stranger wiped away their tears, and the Doctor retracted their hands to touch their own face instead, noticing that indeed, they were crying. That was weird. They didn't even feel that sad. So then why were they...?\n\nIt did help pull them back to reality a little, and the Doctor quickly lowered their head, taking a few deep breaths, a few moments to calm down. It was a common effect of the drug for them - it lowered the barriers they usually had up high, the ones that prevented them from displaying emotions so openly. More often than not, a few would slip through and be expressed like this - there was a reason they only partook in this drug when they were alone. Maybe they should have left when the stranger showed up... But he didn't seem to mind.\n\nWith the tears having stopped flowing, they looked up at him, blinking slowly. Why did he care? People weren't supposed to care about them, they were supposed to be the one caring about others. Well... Whatever. It didn't really matter, did it?\n_ _\n\n\"It's... Fine,\" They eventually decided on replying, gaze lowering back to those wings, hands extending again to touch them. \"Just tired... I suppose.\" It wasn't a lie, really. They were tired, quite exhausted, actually. They'd been about to fall asleep here just now - it was a miracle they were still standing. Still, the tiredness wasn't all that there was to it, but the Doctor was way too out of it to find the words to discuss that even if they wanted to." }, { "author": "Andreas Featherfall", "message": "Letting the doctor notice they were crying, he could see the confusion and surprise by it. He wondered what than was making them cry so if they didn't even seem to know. Though of course he wasn't just going to pry. They seemed to just be experiencing an emotion they simply didn't express very much. It wouldn't be that much of a surprise really during the use of Devil's Root, seeing as it calmed your body quickly it probably would be easy to have something slip by.\n\nAndreas would look at them with a new curiosity but also concern. No one should be hiding their feeling that much. But who was he to tell anyone that. He did the same thing in order to try and redeem himself. He knew he was almost a fraud sometimes with it all, he'd done a lot of bad he still didn't even know if he could pay for. It had been 60 years since than and he knew he'd only gotten but a little back for it. He had his wings sure but as for magic he was completely without. He'd probably be dead was it not for the vampirisms fast healing.\n\nShaking his head to get out of the downward spiral, he would listen to the doctor say they were fine. Though they clearly weren't fine he let it slide. Giving them a smile as he would rub their cheek gently to give a slight comfort, or he at least hoped it would be interpreted that way. \"Alright, as long as your okay and don't need to get anything off your chest. I can understand that constant tiring feeling weighing someone down... You really have a fancy for my wings. I suppose anyone without them does like the wings.\" Andreas would fold his left wing forward to be closer to the doctor. Maybe this is what they needed tonight was just to enjoy something new. Though eventually he figured he was going to need to take them back home so they didn't fall asleep out in the cold. \"Were are you staying at the moment? Or if you rather I not know do you have an inn you would want to go to?\"\n\nHe was trying to figure out the best place to leave them were it at least would be safe for them to sleep off the Devil's Root once they couldn't fight the sleep anymore." }, { "author": "Doctor Jones", "message": "Eyes fluttered shut momentarily at the gentle touch, and the Doctor leaned into the stranger's hand as he rubbed their cheek, almost seeming like they were going to try to keep his hand there - but their hands were occupied with the softness of that wing, and they couldn't sprout a third arm in time for them to do anything about it. Quite unfortunate indeed, but there wasn't anything they could do about it.\n\nThere was a lot they could talk about. Their entire past history, their crimes, the torture, the murders, the attempted sacrifice... Phaendar. All of it was stuff that most definitely needed discussing, that they desperately wanted to get off their chest... But not here, not now, not when they were about to drift to sleep in this strange and cold land, and not with a total stranger. They might be completely out of it on Devil's Root, they might be unable to remember just about anything, but they still couldn't get themself to talk about that, perhaps out of instinct - having kept it hidden for so long, it was infinitely more difficult to discuss it than to just keep hiding it.\n\nWere it up to them, they likely would have preferred to stay here. Stay with the Aasimar until the drug wore off, keep petting those wings - their softness was doing a lot to soothe the Doctor and keep their mind from spiralling into darker territories. Why worry about all of that when there was something like this right next to them? With something this nice and warm... None of the bad things in the world seemed to matter all that much anymore.\n\nWhen he asked his question, though, they paused momentarily to look up at him, head tilting to the side slightly. Right... They knew they were staying... Somewhere, but where? What was the name of that place again? The people who lived there? \n_ _\n\nIt was a fruitless task to try and figure it out. The Doctor could barely remember their own name, let alone any of that stuff. \"I... Forgot,\" They muttered, looking back at the wings - they really were obsessed with them. \"Where I'm staying, I mean... I don't remember.\" Their memories probably would start coming back to them tomorrow, but it was hopeless right now. So, they glanced up at the stranger again, head tilting once more. \"Do you know?\" Maybe that was why he was talking to them, because he knew them, and wanted to take them home. It might very well be the case." }, { "author": "Andreas Featherfall", "message": "Andreas couldn't help but chuckle at the Doctors reaction. They seemed almost cute with them wanting a bit of comfort in what Andreas was doing. He knew Devil's Root could make you plenty out of it but this wasn't all because of the drug. No, deep down it seemed they needed this. To have a bit of comfort and something to feel he guessed safe?\n\nAndreas would leave his hand close to the Doctors face, did he dare keep trying to comfort them? They seemed more fascinated by his wings than anything. He probably should have pulled back, not let them touch his wings as they were an important part of a aasimar. Yet Andreas couldn't bring himself to pulling away, it was strange by this was comforting to him as well, letting this elf be close and to feel the soft feathers. He couldn't even remember the last time he'd allowed someone to be this close to him. Yes, the drug was probably causing this whole scene but it was nice. How long... This question kept coming back to him. How long since he'd seem his family's graves, how long since he'd looked at his not so little sister, how long since his hands where soaked in blood, how long since he had allowed someone to touch him and not feel like he would turn them down the wrong path.\n\nHe really needed anything drag... He was going into too much of a dark place once again. Though with the doctor speaking he would snap out of it. Looking at the doctor and how innocent they looked was cute. He would chuckle at them asking if he knew. He didn't know were they lived but it meant he knew his next move was to take them to an inn to sleep it off, that was only whenever he could get them to stop being transfixed on his wings. He doubted if he took them now they would stay because they want to see his wings more. Though maybe it wasn't such a bad idea? If he got them into a room least if they fell asleep he only had to leave quietly." }, { "author": "vrba_0475_._", "message": "-\nAndreas: \"I don't know where you are staying but that's okay, how about we head back into town and get you a room? You can look at my wings more once in the light. I will let you observe them however you want to but after you need to lay down. I will stay till you fall asleep than. Sound like an okay deal?\" He didn't know why he was even trying to make a deal, just drag them back to an inn and leave them. It's what he should do yet he couldn't bring himself to doing that. \n\nAll he would have to do was watch and make sure they didn't leave. This honestly frustrated him but maybe it was better to let him have some to think on besides his own thoughts." }, { "author": "Doctor Jones", "message": "Really, the Doctor was more than happy to just go along with whatever this person wanted. Part of them, a tiny, hidden part, knew that they shouldn't be alone right now, and he was the only person nearby - so why not, eh? Why not stick with him for now? What was the worst that could happen? Certainly nothing worse than spending a night out here in the cold, on their own, probably freezing to death. They really were unprepared for the weather of this country, no matter how much they were feeling like they were getting more used to it.\n\nThey were quiet for a few moments at the suggestion, mostly to allow their tired and drugged up mind to actually process what was being said. There were a lot of words, and the Doctor sure as hell didn't catch all of them, but they felt they understood the basic message, and it sounded like an acceptable idea. Being able to examine these wings more closely in a place that was actually warm and comfortable sounded like a godsend right now.\n\nAnd so, they gave a nod. For just a moment, they pulled away with their left hand, digging through their pocket for a few moments before managing to pull out a couple of coins. Wordlessly, they held them out to the Aasimar, gaze remaining focused on his wings. It was to pay for the room, they hoped to imply, because they sure as hell weren't finding the words to actually say that right now.\n\nShould they be worried about getting taken somewhere like that by a complete stranger? In this case... Not really. If he wanted to do anything to them, now was the perfect opportunity, and he hadn't taken advantage of it. In fact, it'd be more risky to do anything when there were others around, like the people in town.\n_ _\n\nBut how would they go? Now that was the real question. Sure, walking was an option, but... Silently, the Doctor looked up at the stranger, hoping desperately that they were guessing right and that he would take them flying into the sky. It shouldn't be that hard, right? They didn't weight all that much, and it certainly was a faster way of transportation than walking... Hopefully he'd see that too." }, { "author": "Andreas Featherfall", "message": "Andreas would watch them as they seemed to take time to figure out what he had asked. They really were a bit out of it. It was a bit comical to him even on seeing that look of gears turning in their head. At seeing them finally understanding the question he couldn't help but smile as he would touch the doctors cheek again. \"I'm glad you are okay with going into the village and getting in a warmer place. I'm sure you are plenty cold out here especially with you getting into a relaxed sleep type state.\" \n\nAt seeing the couple coins being held out he would know they meant to pay for it. Taking the coins he would act as if he would use them but he had no reason to use them and was going to just give it back before he left. He wouldn't take the money and how would they know he didn't once they fell asleep. \"Come on than, you can get warmed up and can look at my wings more. You I'm sure will be happy once you can see them clearly.\" At the look of a silent beg he couldn't help but chuckle, he knew what they were wanting but it wouldn't be a good idea. \"Come on, you can walk yet. I will make sure you don't fall or get lost. Don't need either of those.\"\n\nAndreas would pull the doctor away from the tree and wrap an arm around their waist to keep them up. To apiece them a bit so they didn't get too much of a fight, so he would wrap one wing around them. Andreas wing would easily wrap around their small frame compared to him, giving a bit more warmth from the cold weather outside that would otherwise make them a lot colder." }, { "author": "Doctor Jones", "message": "They couldn't help it, the Doctor leaned into his touch as he touched their cheek again, eyes falling shut briefly. Those gentle touches, they didn't know why, but they absolutely adored it - perhaps because people didn't often touch them like that. Sure, they'd get the occasional handshake, and sometimes even smacked around a little, but both of those were very different from this... They were glad to experience it.\n\nIt was a little disappointing when he apparently wasn't going to let them fly, but the Doctor wasn't actually annoyed at it. They didn't mind walking, but given the opportunity to fly... Who wouldn't? Maybe another day. For now, though, they desperately needed sleep and warmth, and so they didn't at all protest when the stranger wrapped an arm around their waist.\n\nHe probably would have had some of an idea already, but holding the Doctor like that, it was hard to miss just how skinny they were - one could count their ribs with no effort at all. Their clothes did a lot to hide that, but like this... Many people found it more than a little worrying.\n\nThey didn't seem so bothered by it, though - their reaction was quite the opposite. The Doctor leaned against the stranger as they walked, practically snuggling into his side. The drug combined with their usual lack of regard for most peoples' personal space to make them, simply put, clingy, and it didn't seem like they were planning to back off any time soon. Warm and comfortable with the arm and wing wrapped around them, the Doctor barely managed to resist falling asleep already, blinks becoming slower and slower as they clearly were nodding off." }, { "author": "Andreas Featherfall", "message": "Though Andreas would usually not do this, not allow someone to be so close to him. His thought of himself not being worthy of love or a closeness to someone because of the life he'd lived during those forty years. But with this out of it stranger he wanted to keep them safe and warm. Feeling how skinny they were caused more worry, how could they be this skinny? This wasn't healthy to be that skinny. He didn't like it but he couldn't do anything about it.\n\nHe would just keep them safe and warm for the moment. Maybe he could get them to eat something during the time of them checking out his wings? Yeah. He could get something for them to eat before they would sleep. That is if they weren't out of it before than. \"Alright just hang in there, no going to sleep just yet. We still got some time to walk... Actually.\"\n\nDeciding not to let this drag on Andreas would do something he hadn't done in a long time and that was carry someone. He would quickly shift his arms to pick up Jones. Pulling them close to his body as he would carry them. Letting his wings wrap around to cover the doctor to keep them warm as he would start to walk them into town. Thinking of which inn to go to first. Maybe he should just let them rest? Instead of letting them look at his wings and not sleep off the Devil's Root? He knew what the best option was but guessed it would be determined once they got into a room." }, { "author": "Doctor Jones", "message": "Any other time, the Doctor would have protested against just being scooped up like that. They would have insisted that it was fine, that they could walk on their own, but right now... It was hard to find the energy for their usual stubbornness. Any bit of fight that was in them faded away when those wings were wrapped around them, and the Doctor let out a deep exhale, seeming to fully relax once more.\n\nThey leaned into his chest, resting their head against where his heart should be, left arm wrapped around their own body, the right placed gently against his chest. Normally, the Doctor might be a little more apprehensive about getting so close to a complete stranger, but drugs were great at eliminating that feeling. So, they slowly traced their hand over his chest, feeling the outlines of his muscles, which appeared to be just as fascinating to them as his wings earlier. Was it highly inappropriate? Probably, but that thought didn't register in their mind.\n\n\"No one has carried me like this since I was small,\" The Doctor muttered, voice barely audible anymore. It was hard to stop the memories from coming back - them, but a mere child, scooped up by their father alongside their brother. Both kids laughing, but then the younger twin started coughing and had to be put down to rest, and that now familiar feeling of guilt struck them. The Doctor inhaled shakily, but managed not to cry, the warmth of another's body doing a lot to keep them calm." }, { "author": "Andreas Featherfall", "message": "Andreas couldn't help but stop walking for a moment when the doctor would start to become fascinated by his muscles. That was definitely a new one for him on someone drugged acting like that. He honestly made him a bit conflicted at the moment. On one hand he knew it was just the drugs but on the other it sent him back into memories of the time he had spent with the woman he'd thought he would be with. Those memories were ones that hurt but he would shake his head quickly to get out of it. He didn't have time to deal with such memories. No, he needed to make sure this elf got into a warm place.\n\nContinuing to walk into town he would take some glances at them. They were quite small he thought and it felt like they might even break if he wasn't careful. Though he was hardly going to be rough with them. \"Just don't do more than that alright? I rather not drop you because you surprise me. I know the drugs got you all out of it but it's a little too soon to be acting that way to someone.\" He was trying to just make light of it so as to keep his own cool but this elf sure knew how to push him tonight. Whatever was up with him this one wasn't helping. It would be okay though soon enough they probably be sleeping with how they been in a daze.\n\nAndreas would look down at them, hearing their mumble of a past. He knew they didn't mean any of it for him to hear but he would pull them closer. They seemed to need all the comfort tonight and he guessed would have to be him to do so. Not that he really cared that much. \"You know, I hear there is one night a month that is supposedly special here. Something about you write down a past mistake you put it in this lantern and let it just fly away. I think I need a lot of those months to make up for the trouble I have caused...\"\n\nAndreas would keep walking till he eventually would make it to an inn, keeping his wings around Jones to hide them. Sure he shouldn't have to do this yet he felt like he needed to protect them.\n\nHe didn't want others to get the wrong idea, he wasn't taking them to a room for a night of fun. No, he'd stopped doing such things a long time ago. It just wasn't the same without someone you actually cared for. He would talk to the owner for a bit, figuring out a room that would have a nice warmth to it for more than was actually needed to pay, but it was late and he didn't mind paying the high price for a nice room that he knew would he warm for this weak elf.\n\n Once getting it sorted out by making more than one excuse as to why wanting such a room he would finally head up to the room after ordering some food as well. If he could keep them awake long enough to eat he would and if not he would eat it before leaving. Either way it wouldn't go to waste." }, { "author": "Doctor Jones", "message": "Though their actions were definitely inappropriate, there was no malice behind them, it was just genuine curiosity - it wasn't often that the Doctor got to interact with someone like this. However, that didn't mean they were going to keep going once they were told off, looking up at him for a moment before removing their hand, both arms now wrapped around their body. Even as out of it as they were, they knew it was probably a bad idea to upset the guy literally carrying them, especially when he was more than strong enough to snap them like a toothpick.\n\nThey listened to him speak, eyes falling shut for a moment as they were pulled close. It was a nice thought... But it was never that easy, was it? To just let one's troubles, one's mistakes fly away... No, they couldn't do that. They had to redeem themself, make up for the past, not try to forget about it. Only by holding on to it all could they ever hope to achieve forgiveness, even if everyone involved was long gone. Everyone but them.\n\nThe Doctor let out a soft hum in response but said nothing, not wishing to dwell on the topic any longer. All they wanted was to just get that rest they so desperately needed - and luckily, it seemed that the two of them were arriving at the inn.\n\nThe place was quiet at this hour, sure, but even just stepping inside the building brought them a great amount of warmth and comfort, and they inhaled and exhaled a deep breath. Only now that they were in a warm location did they start realizing just how cold they'd been - it really was a good thing that this Aasimar had found them when he did. They had to find some way to repay him... But how?\n_ _\n\nHowever, before they had a chance to do any of that, their mind finally stopped resisting the pull of sleep. They were warm now, and safe, and there was nothing holding them back anymore, so before they were even carried into the room, the Doctor had drifted to the land of slumber, chest rising and falling peacefully, the exhaustion finally fading from their face a little. Like this, they didn't look so burdened by the weight of their sins anymore, just sleeping like anyone else - a rare sight, but it was obvious that they desperately needed it." }, { "author": "Andreas Featherfall", "message": "Andreas wondered a bit about them, they definitely had a story and one probably less peaceful. No, he was sure it probably was a look he would have now, or least he thought so. Sometimes he wondered how he looked to others now, but he didn't dare ask for fear someone would peice together he couldn't see himself. A price to pay for what he had done he supposed.\n\nHeading up to the room he knew they were asleep. He noticed the change of their breathing. Guess he will get them into the bed and then leave? Yes, that would probably be best and yet he didn't want to let this fragile elf go yet. He must be out of his mind finally he thought as he shook his head, staying was a bad idea for once the Devil's Root wore off they probably not remember anything. No, it was best to leave them.\n\nAndreas would be quiet as he took them into the room. Keeping the lights off was best as not to wake them, he could see in the dark fine anyways. Stepping as if he wasn't even there he would make his way to the bed, unfolding his wings ever slowly so as not to brush a single feather against them. He was probably being more cautious than needed but he didn't dare wake them. Finally getting them laid in bed he would get them covered up in the warm blankets. He was sure in the morning all they would think is they got a room and had a smoke. Least something like that. Setting the coins down by the door for them to get in the morning, he had no use for them. Maybe the doctor could get a better meal with the extra? Yes, he didn't need to go looking for a drug this night, he done something to help him feel a bit better.\n\nLooking back at the sleeping elf he wished a better life for them, whatever plagued them he hoped they would let go and life. It was not good for one to suffer like so, ne he had lived once just the same and it did nothing be cause more suffering. Maybe he would keep an eye on them? No, that would be stalking Andreas, you swore never to do something like that and even if it was for a good reason." }, { "author": "Doctor Jones", "message": "With how gently they were being moved around, it was no surprise that the Doctor didn't wake up. They curled up peacefully under the blankets and slept, slept for hours upon hours, for much longer than they had in a long while, looking as if nothing could disturb them.\n\nIt was strange. Were it not for the aid of the stranger, they probably would have frozen to death out there, but instead, they slept more comfortably than they had in... A long time. No dreams haunted them for once, they just slept until the morning, at which point they experienced one of the more confusing wakeups in their life.\n\nLast they remembered, they were in the forest, smoking in that way they always did when they were unable to sleep... And now they were at an inn. How very strange. Well, whatever, it didn't matter. The Doctor decided to shrug off the weird feeling and just get back to the estate, picking up the coins as they exited. It was a nice day out, and they felt more well-rested than they had in ages - it was time to get back to work." }, { "author": "Andreas Featherfall", "message": "It had been close to week since the last time he'd been out. To actually go flying and get some type feeling of calm or sleep. But it seemed to not be working no matter how much he flew around he was not being able to relax. \n\nAndreas had become more irritable during the weeks time. Though he never lashed out at anyone he would do so alone, hitting trees had become his way of letting the anger out without hurting anyone but himself.\n\nAnd that had been something Andreas had been doing now on this clear crisp night. He had spend a good amount of the night hitting trees till his knuckles where bleeding. After that point he would look at his throbbing hands, the pain hurt but it felt right. He wasn't going to stop the blood, no he was going to leave it as he would dig into his pocket. He had found someone to sell him some Bane, they had gouged the price for what he got but he didn't care anymore. It had been over two weeks since he'd really slept and this would do it. \n\nThe pain of his hand would increase some while he dug out the Bane he had, finally getting it out it would take a bit to finally light the cigarette he had made earlier from the mix. Once he had it though he would quickly take a drag. He wouldn't breath it out right away as that burn from the smoke simply added to feeling something over his memories of his past. He would lean against a tree as he let his wings relax behind him, finally blowing the smoke out. It burned but the calmness it causes made him not care about it, taking another drag as it helped him relax all the more. The feeling of not really caring was calming as finally he felt relaxed. \n\nHe would cross his right arm across his chest as he looking up at the sky through the trees. He wondered a bit about some things from the past but he really wasn't thinking of them long. No, he just felt better at the moment so why was he thinking about those past things? He didn't want to, worry about those things. He just wanted to sleep\n\nHe shouldn't have done it out here, maybe in a cave? Least it would have been warmer than out here though wasn't like he was just going to freeze to death that easily. He just needed this and least out here he could notice is someone came close. Though he had thought logically at first his resolve was bashed once he started to use Bane. He didn't fear about getting caught or what type of trouble he was actually going to get into for using an illegal drug." }, { "author": "Doctor Jones", "message": "Those sleepless nights were getting more and more frequent. During the day, when they weren't supposed to, the Doctor always fell asleep in an instant, sometimes even in the middle of conversations. They let their concentration slip for a few seconds, and they were gone, much to the annoyance of the people around them. And, much to their own frustration, the nights were the exact opposite. They could toss and turn all they wanted, but they could hardly get a wink of sleep - and when they did, they were often woken up by someone nearby getting themself injured. The lack of sleep made them falling asleep during the day much more common, which led to a lack of sleep at night, and so on, and so forth. A frustrating cycle indeed, and with no idea on how to fix it.\n\nIt was during one of those nights that the Doctor had gotten enough of just laying in bed and trying to sleep, setting out into the cold night to try to clear their mind a little, hoping that'd help. Though they weren't planning to partake in Devil's Root, they did still carry their usual supply with them, just in case they ended up really feeling like it. Last time they'd taken it, they'd wandered back into town on their own and gotten a room in an inn somewhere, apparently, so maybe this time the same would happen. That night had been the best night's sleep they'd had in a while, and the Doctor was hoping to repeat it.\n\nFor now, though, they just walked. Hands stuffed into their pockets against the cold, the Doctor made their way down that familiar path they walked so often when they couldn't sleep. It was a lovely night out, and they were glad to be outside for a little while, if only to get away from all the people around them. There was something comforting about being all alone, no one that they could sense nearby, no hurt people- wait, no, scratch that, there was that faint tug at the edge of their senses again. Someone nearby was hurt. Damn it.\n_ _\n\nThey let out a soft groan, but started heading in that direction. Luckily, it didn't feel like an emergency, and so they didn't waste too much energy rushing, though their travel wasn't slow either.\n\nAnd soon enough, they were getting pretty close to their destination, pushing through a few bushes to get to where they had to go. They didn't travel quietly, and it wouldn't be hard to notice their approach with how unstealthily they were moving, but the Doctor didn't care - they had to help this person out, and it'd be better if whoever it was heard them approach so they wouldn't be spooked, right? Hopefully they weren't about to be cleaved in half by some kind of weapon, they thought silently as they arrived, the injured person finally in their line of sight." }, { "author": "Andreas Featherfall", "message": "Andreas would just be chilling, he didn't care much about anything at the moment, but why should he? He was out at night and he wasn't going to cause any harm. He always made sure he was not hungry before doing nights like this. Accidentally biting someone was never something he felt good about later. But also at the moment he wouldn't care if he was surrounded by fire. No, he was completely out of it.\n\nHe would hear something was coming but he didn't care. He simply would take another drag as he would look over towards where the noise was coming from. He should be hiding the Bane, running away, anything but staying here at the moment. His wings fluffing slightly as he just tilted his head in a bit of a curious look. \n\nAndreas would see the person, they looked familiar yet he couldn't put his finger on it. Oh well guess it doesn't matter that he did or didn't know. He would stretch out a wing as he blew out a cloud of smoke. He didn't feel the pain anymore either from his bloody knuckles but so what if he had hurt himself? It had felt good at the moment." }, { "author": "Doctor Jones", "message": "Something about that man looked vaguely familiar, but they couldn't quite place it... Maybe he just resembled an earlier patient, or they'd seen him around town somewhere, the Doctor thought, and dismissed the strange feeling - they had a patient to focus on, their own thoughts were irrelevant right now.\n\nThat scent hanging in the air was one they did know of, though it was rare, and they furrowed their brow at the fact that this stranger was smoking the stuff so openly. Wasn't Bane highly illegal everywhere? How did he get it? That was something they only wondered about out of sheer curiosity, the Doctor had never been one for partaking in drugs like that that dulled the pain. They didn't deserve to have their pain, their feelings eliminated like that - they had to feel it all.\n\nThey approached cautiously, gaze fixated on the stranger's bloody knuckles. Had he gotten in a fight? No, if it was a proper fight, he likely would have other wounds as well... Had he been beating up someone? It wasn't someone that was around here, that was for sure, they would have sensed it. So then what had happened?\n\nThat's not your place to wonder about.\n\nRight. \"Can I see your hands?\" Doctor Jones asked as they extended theirs, hoping to take his hand to fix the injuries. Relatively minor as they may be, with any injury, there was a risk of infection, and it was better to fix it as soon as possible. \"I just want to help heal your wounds, that's all.\" Hopefully he'd be too out of it to care, or to try to attack them, though they were still making sure to be careful, just in case. There was no telling what people that were so out of their minds would do." }, { "author": "Andreas Featherfall", "message": "Andreas didnt care much as he kept on smoking the Bane. He watched the doctor a bit more as they got closer. He didn't know what they were really going to do but he also was too out of it to really care even if they were coming to kill him.\n\nThe closer the doctor got the more they could see the complete lack of sleep he seemed to have. He was using the Bane for that point later but for now it was just to numb everything. Andreas would look at his hand at the doctor asking for his hand. He was a bit transfixed on the bloody knuckles he had as it seemed like he couldn't remember hoe he got them. Though his blood would be on the tree beside him as he'd spend plenty of time hitting them. \"Why does my hands look like that... Huh they don't when they should.\" He would shrug as he stopped worrying about it and just held out his hands to the doctor. He didn't care what would happen as he was calm and felt peaceful. \n\nHis wings though showed some part of him not being as calm as he felt. They would keep fluffing out before settling down. Almost as if he was going to take off yet he had no plan to as he was still leaning against the tree." }, { "author": "Doctor Jones", "message": "It was hard to miss what seemed to be a complete lack of sleep from the stranger, he looked, well... Kind of like them. In a bad way. Was that what he was using the drug for? To try to sleep? Or were they just assuming that was the case because that was what they did more often than they'd like to admit? ...Best not try to think about it.\n\nGently, Doctor Jones took one of his hands in theirs, examining it for a moment or two, looking at the injuries with some amount of curiosity. These weren't from beating up a person, these were from punching something with an uneven surface, like stone, or the bark of a tree. Alongside those small bits of what seemed to be bark that they could see in there upon closer examination... They had to conclude that he had been hitting a tree. However, that still left the question of why, and he seemed way too out of it to answer.\n\nIn the same way as always, they started healing the injuries - luckily, it wasn't too hard, as these were only surface-level. Doctor Jones was careful to get any filth out, their brow furrowed slightly in concentration as they worked on one hand first, then the next. It didn't take them more than maybe half a minute per hand, and when they finished, they exhaled a sigh, barely seeming winded at all. Injuries like these, they could manage without too much difficulty.\n\nThey turned their gaze back to the stranger, but said nothing for now, in case he had anything to say. They did still wonder why he was out here in the first place, and what he was doing smoking a substance like that... Maybe they could try asking him - couldn't hurt, right?" }, { "author": "Andreas Featherfall", "message": "Andreas would watch the doctor as they seemed to work their magic. He hasn't seen magic like that since well he stopped being able to use any. It was always interesting to watch as they healed his hands. He probably should have said something about it but he didn't. He would simply hold his hand out in front of his face and look for any type of danger left, yet it seemed like everything was fine. No broken bones or bruises. It really was something to see magic like that again.\n\nAndreas would look down at the doctor as he tried to now remember who they were. He knew he'd met them yet were or when was just out of reach. \"You got some nice skill there... I'm impressed someone can just do that in a matter of a minute. It really is interesting. You look like you want to say something though. Go ahead and ask all you want to.\"\n\nMaybe it was bad to let someone ask things yet he didn't care. Right now everything was in a state of not caring about anything. It felt nice as he wanted to sleep but he couldn't yet. So he simply just kept smoking his cigarette of Bane. If someone found him and wanted to take him away for it he really wouldn't care." }, { "author": "Doctor Jones", "message": "Normally, the Doctor would have just left after finishing healing someone. They usually didn't have anything else to say, and they sure as hell wouldn't want to spend more time in the cold than necessary, but this case... It was different. After all, if there hadn't been a fight or anything, then that must mean this injury was self-inflicted, right? Would that mean he was going to do this again if they left? Additionally, there was that strange feeling that he was familiar somehow, and the fact that it seemed unsafe to leave someone so drugged up alone... Best stick around for a little while.\n\nAnd they were even receiving permission to ask whatever they wanted. Might as well take the opportunity, no? If he didn't want to answer a question, then he could simply not do so - at least, that was the way they thought about it. Simply staying silent had always been a main technique of theirs when dealing with stuff they didn't want to talk about.\n\n\"Why were you hitting trees?\" The Doctor asked after a few moments of deliberation, deciding to get straight to the heart of the issue instead of dancing around it. They weren't looking at the stranger's face - admittedly partially because craning their head back like that made their neck hurt - and instead looked down at his hands, the way they'd been healed without any new scars forming, as if this incident had never even happened." }, { "author": "Andreas Featherfall", "message": "Andreas couldn't help but chuckle, it wasn't one of something sounded funny but more of one that was raw. There was definitely more to his story but who cared. \"To feel the pain, to hit something till my hands bled, to keep from hurting someone. There was a lot of reasons I hit a tree. Seemed easier to break a few knuckles against a tree than a face don't you think?.\" \n\nHe didn't care to get an answer back, wasn't something he was going to change anyways. Was just another way to makw him suffer for the blood already on his hands. If he wasn't so out of it it probably would be alarming to him but for the moment nothing seemed to matter besides downing out the pain and suffering of his past. Two weeks of no sleep really tended to make him usually go over the deep end, sure he wasn't into killing himself but causing some self-influenced pain, that he was more than willing to do over and over and he had. \n\nAndreas would stop looking at his hands as he would look at the doctor. They really did seem familiar. Why he still couldn't place it but maybe he would realize it later? That or he wouldn't think of it at all. \"You don't look like one who's used to the cold, so why are you out here? Especially when you look like someone could snap you in two easily with your small stature... You don't look like no moon elf either who likes nightly wants to study stars or any of that.\"" }, { "author": "Doctor Jones", "message": "The Doctor swallowed hard at that admission, averting their gaze and instinctively hiding their right arm behind their back. To hear him admit such a thing so openly... Frankly, it lightly startled them. Was it not meant to be a shameful thing to discuss? Something that shouldn't be talked about, no matter the circumstances? And yet here he was, mentioning it so openly... Was it the drug's fault? Did that cause his apathy towards the matter?\n\nNo matter what the cause, they still didn't know what to say to it. It didn't matter what they said, it wouldn't get him to stop, would it? And any attempts to get him to stop might only worsen the issue, depending on his mindset. Surely he already knew it was bad, that this was not a healthy way to cope with whatever bothered him, and saying that wouldn't help, would it? \"I see,\" They only muttered meekly, uncertainty obvious in every part of their body language.\n\nLuckily, the stranger himself already provided a change of topic, and if that was by questioning them on why they were out here, the Doctor for once didn't mind so much. They weren't sure if he was trying to insult them, but found it hard to care about that either way. \"Couldn't sleep,\" They said with a faint shrug, stuffing their hands into their pockets. \"And I didn't want to be around others... So I came here.\" Another shrug. There wasn't a whole lot more to the story, really." }, { "author": "Andreas Featherfall", "message": "Andreas would notice the way the doctor reacted. It wasn't a normal one. No, it was more someone wanting to hide someone or had guilt maybe? He didn't know for sure what it was and he didn't really care either, he'd just answered it regularly as it didn't matter what he did again a tree, did it? They had healed his hands so it simply wouldn't take as long to heal. Usually they would be healed mostly by the morning, having just some bruising left that seemed to linger for a while.\n\nAndreas would move his hand with the cigarette in it as he would seem to just watch the glow of the end, he'd been getting himself completely out of it. He would no doubt sleep later with how he was asking now.\n\nHe would look at the doctor as they answered his question even though he didn't remember he had even asked. \"I suppose we are in the same than. Though hopefully that will change for the night. Want some Bane to help? It does relax you when sleep is hard to come by. Though I use it very rarely, you eventually get desperate enough for sleep you eventually will use anything to do it.\"" }, { "author": "Doctor Jones", "message": "Had the stranger noticed their reaction? Or had he not? The Doctor wasn't entirely sure, but it did seem like no matter which way, he was too drugged up to question it - or he just didn't care. Either way, they weren't going to keep talking about it, more than happy to move on from that incredibly uncomfortable topic - right back into another uncomfortable topic.\n\nThey glanced at the offered drug for a moment, feeling almost tempted to accept, but no, no, they couldn't. Devil's Root was acceptable, but something this strong... They really shouldn't. So, they shook their head, taking a slight step back. \"I don't mess with stuff like that,\" They spoke softly, hoping it wouldn't insult him. Of course, there were very rare times that they did use it, but those were for medicinal purposes only - a way to dull the pain with certain patients, for example. That was not something that was relevant here.\n\n\"Do you want me to stay, or go?\" They asked instead, looking back up at the Aasimar. Really, they didn't mind either way - they were fine with leaving again, but there was also something about this man that still very much interested them. Maybe it was the fact that something about him seemed so very familiar, even if they couldn't quite place why, and perhaps sticking around would help them figure it out. Either way, it was bound to be an interesting conversation." }, { "author": "Andreas Featherfall", "message": "Andreas would look down at the doctor as they stepped back. He didn't know why they stepped back. He didn't plan to force it, he simply was offering it. He didn't know why really since it wasn't anything he'd probably share usually? Least it didn't feel like something he would share. He'd shrug as he didn't care if they took it or not. He was pretty well done with it anyways since he'd been more than generous with the amount he was using.\n\nHe would close his eyes as he leaned back his head. He definitely felt more relaxed than he had in over a week, sure its helped that one night but that was almost a distant memory with all the other ones that plagued him. \"It's not that bad of stuff you know, not when you not actually slept any in two weeks or more. That point anyone is desperate for even a little sleep. But you do what you want, I just was offering it.\" He was okay with just hanging out in the forest now.\n\nHe looked down at them in a dazed look, he was plenty high from but it felt good to him. \"You can stay or go. You are the one who was walking out here to be alone before. I just came out here to cause some pain to myself and than well now I'm just here.\" Andreas would stretch his wings out as he would look at them, giving a slight scowl at the color as he knew they still showed his evil deeds from the past. \"You ever do something you regret? I know many say they do but it's never anything that really requires punishing yourself for it. They simply just move on like it was nothing in the end but a peddle in their shoe.\"" }, { "author": "Doctor Jones", "message": "Luckily, the stranger didn't keep insisting on the drugs, seeming more than happy to do the rest of it himself. It was lucky because frankly, the Doctor was more than a little tempted to accept the offer, very aware of the effects of Bane and the way it completely dulled the mind, but they knew they didn't deserve something like that. No, it was best to just leave it to the stranger, if only so at least one of them could be sober for if something happened.\n\n\"I'm not judging you,\" They replied with a faint shrug, hands remaining stuffed deeply into their pockets to help resist the temptation. \"I just... Don't want it.\" A clear and obvious lie, but one they felt need to tell anyway - if they lied enough about the fact, maybe they'd be able to start believing it as well. \"That's all.\"\n\nIt was a strange thing that he was admitting it so freely. The fact that this was a way of punishing himself. The Doctor let an awkward silence hang in the air, taking their right wrist in their left hand, gazing down at their hands. \"...I know what you mean,\" They muttered eventually, thumb tracing that complicated roadmap of scars that covered their arm, though they kept everything carefully hidden beneath their sleeves - that was something they weren't going to show anyone. They also didn't elaborate any further, but judging from the look in their eyes, it wasn't something they were just saying - there most definitely was something hiding beneath the surface. Question was, what were they hiding?" }, { "author": "Andreas Featherfall", "message": "Andreas would put out the last of the cigarette as he was done with it. He could tell it wasn't fully true on what with what the doctor said, it didn't seem like they just didn't want it. He thought about offering it again before he put it out but he didn't. No, wasn't needed and push away the stranger. \"Well sometimes it's not bad when you gotten to a point of needing it. Sometimes you need calm vs pain that is constant.\" Andreas would push off the tree as he looked through the trees to see the sky. He thought of just flying off but wouldn't be smart to do when he was this out of it.\n\n\"Somedays I felt as if I deserved to just die, like I need to just be gone. Probably would have been better for others if I was gone... Yet I just can't leave, would be the easy way out.\" Andreas would look down at his hands as if he could see the blood he'd spilled on them. Maybe someday he could find some way to be happy and wash away the blood. \n\nHe would look down at them as he tilted his head. \"You're pretty thin looking, or least your clothes look too much for you... You also heal strangely, is there a reason you heal that way? I mean there are different ways someone can heal.\"" }, { "author": "Doctor Jones", "message": "They couldn't help it, the urge to turn around and leave kept growing the longer the conversation went on. It was unpleasant, to say the least, and the amount of personal questions this person was asking, all of which were hitting a bit too close to home... They were starting to dislike it more than a little. Yet... For whatever reason, they didn't leave, not yet. Why that was, the Doctor had no idea.\n\nMaybe it was because his words were so relatable. There were more than enough times where they'd wished to die, even if that was mostly in the past. Back then, it hadn't been uncommon for those thoughts to be the only thing they could think about in a day, and they came so close so often... But something always held them back. Perhaps unfortunately, though, the Doctor didn't express any of that, instead only replying with a vague \"Mmh\" Noise and remaining quiet for the rest.\n\nAt the comment on their size, the Doctor did give some kind of a reaction, crossing their arms and glaring at the ground. What of it? They wanted to snap, but considering that doing so would reveal how much of a sensitive topic it was, they decided against it and instead focused on the actual question. \"It's just the way I practiced,\" They replied, vague as always. \"There's different ways to heal, and that's the direction I picked. Not much more to it than that.\" From the way they shifted uncomfortably, though... That did not seem to be the entire truth." }, { "author": "Andreas Featherfall", "message": "Andreas thought about saying more, saying more than he needed to say. He felt like saying the things he had done. Andreas would open his mouth to say such a thing but would stop. No, it wouldn't do any good to tell anyone about it. It wouldn't save the pain from it. Exhaling he would just sit down on the cold ground. His wings being limb behind him.\n\nMaybe staying out in the cold to sleep would be a good idea? He could easily sleep he was sure at this point. Though with the doctor speaking he would look up at them. \"I suppose it's not a bad way to study healing... I suppose I simply miss the use of magic though I deserve not to have it as well.\" He didn't plan to say more on it, sharing he was a fallen was a hard topic for him, his brothers death had really caused a lot of damage but not as much as the path he'd been down.\n\n\"Why are you staying? You don't exactly look like you like the things I'm talking about. Seeming like you more hate that I have said the things I have actually. Guess it shouldn't matter though. I doubt we will be seeing one another again. Just another random meeting in the woods. Did the same with someone like a week ago?\"" }, { "author": "Doctor Jones", "message": "The Doctor watched quietly as the man sat down, brow furrowing in concern. Was he really going to fall asleep like this? Wouldn't he freeze? Sure, maybe he wouldn't freeze as easily as they did, but he'd likely still end up frozen to death when the morning came. It struck them how similar this situation was to... Something, but they couldn't place what it was similar to. A strange sense of déjà vu lingered at the back of their mind.\n\n\"You don't have magic?\" They questioned, crouching down in front of him. The question wasn't one of interest, to be honest, it was more of an attempt to keep him somewhat focused and alert. \"Where are you staying? You really shouldn't be falling asleep here.\" Extending a hand, the Doctor lightly brushed over the stranger's cheek, hoping to get an indication of how his body temperature was doing - plus, maybe the coldness of their touch would startle him awake a little more.\n\nAt least he did seem to be properly speaking still, even if he was rambling a little - not fully out of it yet. The Doctor decided to ignore his questions, really not wanting to answer them, or even think about them. Though... Something struck them as odd. Sure, it was probably just a coincidence, but they were in the woods a week ago as well, right? Then again, had they encountered someone like him, they'd probably remember it. Best not think about it. \"Who knows, we could run into each other again,\" They mused, and extended a hand to him. \"Now come on, get up. You're getting moved to somewhere safer.\" Hopefully he wouldn't actually put too much weight on them, though - the Doctor would probably end up getting pulled down if he did that." }, { "author": "Andreas Featherfall", "message": "Andreas would look up at the stars again as he thought about the question a bit. He was a little more out of it for response time but wasn't too concerning yet. \"No, I'm a magicless aasimar. A joke pretty much to being even close to a true aasimar. Hadn't done any time of magic since I became this.\" Not like Jones would understand what 'this' was since he wasn't out right showing he was a vampire. Probably couldn't hide it though if he tried.\n\nHe's looking back at the doctor. Being closer now to them he thought almost of trying something but keep his hands on the ground. He wasn't completely logical but he knew a little of not doing something he'd regret. \"Why? Wouldn't be the worst way to go. You just simply fall asleep and never wake up. Plus I shouldn't be were I'm staying. Would be bad to go there like this, being high and a sacred place? Probably not a good idea especially this late at night...\" Andreas would give a bit of a confused look at the doctor touching his cheek. His skin being on the colder side but that wasn't fully from the cold since he wasn't normal. To him it more just baffled him why they would do that. \"I'm not crying, hadn't done that in a long time. This won't make me cry either, got no reason to cry for myself.\"\n\n\"You use Devil's Root, especially out here. You thought of running too that night?\" Andreas would knit his brow a bit as he kind of recalled the night but not really. He wasn't that coherent to remember the details of a night around a week ago. \"Seems like something we wouldn't plan, and I doubt I'll be back in the forest after tonight... You plan to move me? I doubt you will get very far doing that.\" Andreas wouldn't take their hand as he would exhale, least not at first. Though after a moment he would take their hand, pulling them down onto him though instead of trying to get up as he wasn't exactly thinking logically." }, { "author": "Doctor Jones", "message": "They supposed it wasn't all that strange to be entirely without magic. There were plenty of beings all around that didn't have an ounce of magic in them - hell, it might even be more common than people that had magic. And still... The way the stranger spoke of it, apparently he did use to be able to do something in the past. How had he lost it? That was something the Doctor hadn't heard about before. How very, very interesting - but there were more important matters to worry about.\n\n\"I'm not having your death on my conscience,\" They stated simply, speaking much more firmly than they usually did. \"If you can't return to your dwelling, there are other places where you can stay the night.\" His body was cold... Too cold. He needed to get somewhere warm, and fast, lest he get himself killed. Of course, the Doctor didn't know about his vampiric nature, assuming that the coldness of his body was simply because it was, well, cold out here. If he went into hypothermia... There was no way they were going to be able to drag him to safety, not while being as weak as they were.\n\nThey blinked in surprised at the mention of their drug of choice. How did he know? Or had he just smelled what they carried in their pocket? But then why did he mention 'that night'? The Doctor said nothing, hoping he'd elaborate on his own. Instead, they decided to focus on the rest of his words. \"I'd appreciate it if you could try to move on-\" However, before they could finish the sentence, they were suddenly pulled down, flopping unceremoniously against him without a sound escaping them. A moment passed, and then the Doctor quickly tried to pull away and get back up - assuming he let go of them, of course." }, { "author": "Andreas Featherfall", "message": "Andreas wouldn't probably talk about the strange way he addressed how he lost his magic. It was something maybe learning on a later date but for now probably not. \"My death doesn't need to be on your conscience if I decide to just stay here. Would be my choice if I decided to just stay.\" Frowning at being told to go somewhere else, it was annoying since he didn't really feel like going somewhere else. The night was nice here. \"Tell me another reason why I should leave here besides getting cold and dying. Because it doesn't seem like a good enough one when I don't feel cold at all.\"\n\nAndreas was probably a bit rough when he would pull them down but he wouldn't have meant to. He wouldn't let go of their hand though and actually wrap his other arm around their back. Then having his wings fold over to make a little warm pocket as he would look at the doctor. He probably wouldn't have done something like this so quickly if he was not high but since he was he just reacted to wanting to hold someone for a moment.\n\nBeing this close to Jones he could once again feel how small they really were, feeling ribs made his brow knit as this seemed to familiar now. He just couldn't seem to place why at the moment. Either way he could tell the stranger needed more warmth than he did, they probably freeze before he was even close yet they were so concerned about him? It didn't make sense to him at the moment and he probably wouldn't make sense of it later either." }, { "author": "Doctor Jones", "message": "The Doctor's breath hitched at the arm wrapping around them, and they tried their hardest to stay calm no matter how much their heart was racing. How long had it been since they'd been this close to another? And yet... Something about this felt so very, very familiar. Why was that? They tried to struggle away from him for a few more moments, but quickly conceded, realizing that it was useful. The man holding them was built like a warrior, whereas they were more like a stick.\n\nInstead, they shifted slightly to try and make themself a little more comfortable, looking back at the man as he looked at them. How could they convince him to leave? Was there anything they, a complete stranger to him, could say? Holding his gaze, the Doctor was quiet for a little while, trying to figure out a solution, brow furrowed slightly in concentration. Actually, maybe...\n\nFrom what they could tell, he did seem to be a compassionate person. The guilt he talked about, that wasn't something someone with no empathy would mention. So maybe if they shifted the focus away from his health, it might work? At this moment, they were just about ready to try anything if it meant preventing the stranger from freezing to death - and what other options did they have left? \"Because I'm not leaving until you are, and it's fairly evident I can't handle the cold. I might even die before you do.\" Even with them wrapped up like this, that honestly might not be a lie considering how low their body temperature already was. Now they just had to hope that those words would get the stranger to do what they wanted him to do." }, { "author": "Andreas Featherfall", "message": "Andreas would keep from holding them too tight. He didn't wish to hurt them, he knew that much that he didn't plan on harming anyone again. Least he never intentionally planned to and if something happened it was always him who paid for their treatment. Looking down at them he wondered a bit on what they were thinking. Probably just another reason to make him leave.\n\nAndreas would frown at the doctor saying what he'd thought. But for them to be that stubborn at staying? He didn't like the thought of them getting hurt because of him, no he didn't want that at all. Sighing he wrapped his wings around them more before he gave a slight glare at them. \"Well played at using yourself as a reason to make me leave.\" He didn't have any hard feelings for the stranger but was more impressed they had figured out a way to make him leave. As long as they got somewhere warm he supposed it wasn't a bad thing to leave the forest.\n\nKeeping his wings wrapped around them he didn't plan to let go just yet. He would keep them close as he would sit up, looking around for any strange noises before letting his kind of captive go. Andreas wouldn't do anything to harm Jones, he just seemed like he needed a moment being close to someone. Waiting for Jones to get up before he would do the same. Letting his wings set peacefully behind his back once more. \"I will get a place to stay so you don't need to worry about following me, I won't stay here since you will just be stubborn and make sure I get back into town.\"" }, { "author": "Doctor Jones", "message": "If they were being honest, the Doctor couldn't say that it was bad to be held like this - quite the opposite, in fact. There was a comfort drawn from it, and a tiny, hidden part of them wished that this moment would last a lot longer, that they could be held like this a lot longer. It truly had been so long... But it couldn't last. It was time for the two of them to get up and leave.\n\nLuckily, their idea had worked. The Doctor gave a soft sigh of relief, glad that it hadn't backfired. Just assuming something like that... It could have gone massively wrong. They raised an eyebrow at his glare, but otherwise said nothing, not about to snap back and risk ruining it. Still... It was slightly amusing how easily he'd given up. This meeting surely was an interesting one, and one to remember.\n\nThey reluctantly went along with it as he sat up, once more adjusting their position to be more comfortable, straddling his lap for those few moments until he finally let them go. The Doctor carefully rose to their feet then and got up, ignoring the part of them that wished to curl back up into those arms. \"Are you sure I can trust you?\" They asked as they bent down to brush some dirt off their pants, before straightening their back again. A short pause, and then they spoke again. \"Let me rephrase that. Are you sure you're able to make it back on your own, as drugged up as you are?\" There was some concern in their eyes as they gazed at him, hands stuffed into their pockets in an attempt to keep them warm." }, { "author": "Andreas Featherfall", "message": "To say that Andreas didn't enjoy holding than was an understatement, even in his drugged state he knew he missed such things. He'd distanced himself from getting to have any real contact with another, a way to punish himself really for letting his revenge makw him lose everything he'd had before. He felt like letting himself be happy was wrong, so he always turned from being able to do anything like that.\n\nLetting Jones go was smart, he'd wanted to hold them longer and he would have. Probably not let them go at all, so when he go up he would stuff his hands into his pockets. He didn't need to grab them again or he might not let go the rest of the night till he was actually sober again. No, he couldn't force someone to stay no matter how much a part of him wanted to keep them captive in a hold just for a night. \"You only win this time, only because I don't want a twig like you to get sick or worse because you won't let me stay out here alone. Don't flatter yourself too much.\"\n\nAndreas would smirk at the doctor words on trust, no they probably shouldn't trust him. Not for the reason they thought though. Them rephrasing the question was better, it snapped him out of probably doing a different reply to what they asked. Though that still didn't stop Andreas from leaning forward enough to be close to their ear as he spoke \"If I say no? What will you do than? Because if you come back with me I can't guarantee that my resolve will hold out. You might find yourself stuck in a room the rest of the night with me refusing to let go of you. I quite enjoyed holding you, it feels familiar almost... Or maybe I just want it to be.\" Andreas would straighten his back again as he looked at them to see what they would say. He knew he probably would end up keeping them captive for the night if they did agree but he also knew deep down it was wrong to do so. He simply just didn't care at the moment if it was." }, { "author": "Doctor Jones", "message": "The Doctor's lip twitched slightly in annoyance at that word - twig. They pulled their jacket a little tighter around themself and stuffed their hands deeper into their pockets, trying their hardest not to show that annoyance. They knew they looked awful, he didn't have to point it out like that. Why he felt the need to... They didn't know. Then again, it was a simple statement of a fact, it shouldn't upset them so - which made the situation even more frustrating.\n\n\"As long as it makes you go there,\" They said instead, giving a faint shrug, \"I don't care why you decide to leave.\" Him not getting himself killed was all that mattered right now, no matter what way they had to do to accomplish that. Well... There were some more brutal means that they could resort to, but the Doctor was not going to do any of that. They didn't want to cause him any harm - even if he was being annoyingly stubborn.\n\nActually, scratch that, he was more annoying than anything. The Doctor froze up when the stranger leaned in, side-eyeing him as he spoke. What the hell was he even talking about? It sent a shiver down their spine, but they resisted the urge to step away, hands curling to fists in their pockets. \"If you want someone to hold for the night, I can recommend the local brothels,\" They said coolly, somewhat sidestepping the question. What did it even mean? Was he just going to cling on to them for the entire night like some desperate child? They lowered their gaze, looking away from him. ...Why was it so tempting to go along with it?" }, { "author": "Andreas Featherfall", "message": "Andreas really didn't care too much on how he was acting. He was too out of his mind to be thinking rationally. Maybe he shouldn't have had so much? It felt though nice not being plagued by every little mistake he had made before. It was still not a good plan to use Bane too often since he did act like this. He could see he was annoying the stranger more would kind of just made him want to laugh.\n\n\"So meaning if I wanted to leave because I kidnap you is a valid reason. Good to know you don't care.\" Andreas wouldn't mean that and said it very sarcastically. Though he would scowl at the thought of going to a brothel. He was hadn't been to something like that since his dark days and he had no desire to go back to one.* \"I rather not go to a brothel ever. No, desire to step foot into one.\"\n\nAndreas would start to make his way away from Jones, he didn't feel much like teasing them anymore. No, it was best just to head into the night. He would act nice and go into the town, than go off another way. Was best probably to not be around another at the moment anyways. He wasn't thinking clearly and just said whatever he wanted to. That was just a bad thing and they were annoyed with him so best to leave before making it worse? He didn't need another thinking bad of him. He already had plenty of those from the sins he done. Signing he's run his fingers through his hair as he looked up at the sky. Maybe it would have been different... Different if he'd never fallen, never lost his brother, he honestly could simply go on and on about it but it wouldn't change the past. He should have brought some blood wine with him, he was irritated at himself now and it usually helped to get a drink." }, { "author": "Doctor Jones", "message": "They really tried their best to hide their annoyance. If this stranger wanted to go off into the woods by himself, that was his responsibility, right? It wasn't their fault if he got hurt, or worse. Whatever ended up happening to him... It wasn't their problem. No, it would be best to just stay quiet, wait for him to leave, and then return to the estate. The Doctor ignored his replies and just waited for him to start walking, trying their very hardest not to care.\n\nJust let him go. Rid yourself of the headache. You can't spend the night with a stranger, there's things that need to be done.\n\n...\n\nDamn it!\n\nIt was impossible. Seeing him like this... It reminded them too much of themself. And when had they not needed that little bit of extra kindness from a stranger? That time, last week, when they'd woken up in a warm and comfortable bed instead of frozen to death in the forest, had someone not helped them out? There was no way they would have been able to make it back on their own, someone had helped them... And now someone else needed help in the exact same way. Pay it forward and all that.\n\nThe Doctor groaned internally, sighed, then jogged over to where the stranger was walking, hands stuffed into their pockets. \"I'm coming with you and making sure you're safe,\" They stated matter-of-factly. \"And if that means you're going to keep me there all night...\" Another sigh. \"So be it. I just... Want to know you're okay when the morning comes.\"" }, { "author": "Andreas Featherfall", "message": "Andreas wouldn't look at them as he walked. No, he didn't really care what they did at the moment. He couldn't scare them away. Sure he could just fly away but then he would be leaving them out in the cold as well. So he would just let them come along he supposed. It was annoying, he'd given them the reason to leah and not look back and yet here they were. He wasn't paying attention to were he was going anyways, he just planned to walk till he couldn't now just made it less likely. Which wasn't a bad thing it just made it him unable to do so. \"Just go back to wherever you live. I already said I was going to go into town. No reason for you to just follow someone high around. Besides I seen I annoyed you already a lot. So, just go do whatever else. You already know I'm not good company.\" \n\nAndreas knew they probably won't be leaving but might as well try? He couldn't make them leave even if he wanted to because he didn't plan to hurt anyone while he was high. \"I'm more than capable of keeping myself safe in a high and lack of sleep state if I really needed to, you couldn't help much if I collapsed I doubt. Only way would be getting someone else involved and unless you plan to explain an illegal drug good luck with that.\" Andreas didn't remember why he was trying so hard to get rid of them. He could get what he was wanting, would be great no? But he still knew it was just wrong.\n\n\"If your persistent on staying just leave when we get into town. You already shown you want to leave anyways once you 'know I'm safe'. I'm just going to sleep anyways so no reason you being uncomfortable because I'm taking a joke too far.\" Was it really a joke though? He didn't feel like it was, it felt more like something he wanted? Maybe he should have stayed that one night with... Whoever it was. Why they liked his wings so much that night he didn't know, it as amusing to watch though. But kind of nice being... Seen? No, it was just best not to be seen, than no one got hurt." }, { "author": "Doctor Jones", "message": "If there was one thing the Doctor was known for outside of their healing abilities, it was their stubbornness. Their refusal to accept anything else once they'd set their mind on something, a source of annoyance for many. Usually, it was a negative thing, because it tended to concern matters of their own health and their refusal to take care of themself, but right now, it came in kind of handy - though it seemed that the stranger didn't feel the same way. No, he seemed more intent on trying everything he could to get them to leave. Unfortunately for him, the Doctor wasn't one to budge so easily.\n\n\"I've been in much worse company before,\" They replied with a shrug, \"It's just part of the job. Some drugged up Aasimar is nothing compared to some of the patients I've seen.\" Plus, there was the matter of what they'd done - they sincerely doubted he would have done anything nearly as bad. \"Besides, what sort of doctor would I be if I didn't make sure you were safe after your treatment?\" No, he wasn't getting rid of them that easily.\n\n\"If you collapse, I'll build a fire and wait for you to wake up again. It's a pain, but better than you dying.\" Another casual shrug. As they walked, the Doctor made sure to walk in the direction of town, hands remaining in their pockets. \"And I never said I was uncomfortable. That's you assuming things that are untrue.\" Were they about to admit that it was quite the opposite, that they had been very comfortable? Definitely not - but they weren't going to let him believe they were uncomfortable. \"We're going to town and getting you a room to sleep in some inn where you'll be warm and safe. And that's final. Understood?\" Maybe they were pushing it a bit too much, but this person clearly needed help, and the Doctor was going to get him it, no matter how much he was trying to resist." }, { "author": "Andreas Featherfall", "message": "Andreas could tell they were stubborn for sure. Maybe if he'd been not high he would have cared more about them coming along. Though since he'd tried and they said they were coming he wasn't going to say anything else on making them leave. \"Suit yourself, if you want to stick around go ahead. Doesn't seem like I'm going to be stopping you. Though if you get stuck with me for the night I did warn you before.\" He will still probably try to avoid doing such a thing but he couldn't help it if his resolve ended. He just hoped it didn't.\n\nLooking at the doctor for a moment he wondered why they were so adamant? \"You think I'm not the worst company? That's a first... Though I suppose I usually try to avoid any interaction with others to begin with... Don't deserve to get close\" Andreas would mumble the last part as he tried to keep from saying something more about himself they didn't really need to know about since doubtful they meet again.\n\n\"You still shouldn't though follow someone high around doctor or not. You never know when someone can be a few rocks short of a full basket. For all you know I could be a murderer that's just waiting for the time to kill you. Drink your blood or something like that.\" \n\nAndreas would stop for a moment as they looked at them confused. They would have built a fire and stayed out here? Where they that stubborn? \"I would have been fine even if I had collapsed. The cold isn't that bad here. Been in worse cold before... You didn't say it but your body language has at times. I can read a person pretty well, you been annoyed and uncomfortable with me most of the time tonight.\" He didn't plan to address them seeming comfortable with some of it, that wasn't the point at the moment. \"Yes, yes warm, safe, bed, so forth because you think I won't do it myself. Just leave once it's done unless you plan to spend the night stuck. Because I can't promise if I get ahold of you, you won't be stuck with me not thinking logically.\"" }, { "author": "Doctor Jones", "message": "This man really was being a massive pain, but at least he had seemed to give up somewhat on trying to get rid of them. Hopefully he understood that they weren't going to leave him in the cold, no matter how much he protested. They were going to help him, the Doctor was determined to watch over him until he'd fallen asleep in a safe location. If that meant staying with him through the night... So be it. It certainly wouldn't be the worst thing a patient had done to them.\n\n\"Considering the amount of people that try to murder me when I try to help them... No, you're far from the worst.\" It was really quite the opposite. Being pulled into an embrace like that had seemingly awakened something in them - a desire of sorts to be held like that again, feel that warmth of another person envelop them, the feeling of safety that came with it. How very embarrassing. Best not bring it up, or even think about it.\n\nThe Doctor raised an eyebrow at him, eyeing him curiously. There was something about his words that seemed odd. That mention of drinking their blood, that was not normal. Was he...? No, it couldn't be. They were overthinking it. Though it would explain the lower-than-average body temperature, and the way he didn't seem to mind the cold that much... But no, they discarded the thought quickly. \"If you decide to murder me tonight...\" They gave a vague shrug, averting their gaze. \"So be it, I suppose.\" It was more than deserved, after so long.\n_ _\n\n\"You don't seem all that illogical right now. Very talkative, at least.\" Were the effects of the drug waning, or was he just more used to it? Then again, they'd never met him sober, they couldn't know for sure what he was like on or off drugs. \"Either way, I don't care what happens. Do your worst, stranger.\" Wasn't like anyone would miss them if they suddenly were to disappear, the Doctor thought to themself with a sigh. Maybe it'd slow down Henryk's research, but he'd find someone else who could help. No, the only ones that might be affected would be their patients - and those could find someone else to aid them. Another would surely step up to take their place if they suddenly disappeared." }, { "author": "Andreas Featherfall", "message": "\"You had ones try to kill you? That's a surprise when you hardly look threatening enough to kill. I won't get others going after someone who looks weak.\" Andreas would shake his head and the complete lack of control some had. He only ever done something like that for revenge but even then it wasn't during anyone trying to help. That would just be a stupid thing to do he thought.\n\n\"You're staring doc, you got something on your mind you want to share or ask? I doubt I could avoid a question in this state but who knows what I'm capable of.\" He'd shrug as he let his wings stretch out a bit, he really was sore. Maybe flying the way he had wasn't the best idea? Eh who knows what would or wouldn't be good when you got lots of no sleep. He didn't like them saying they were okay dying if they did. He had no reason to do such a thing but still was a little crazy to just be okay with it.* \"Why are you so okay with being killed? You don't look exactly like you'd want to... But maybe a part of you does?\"\n\n\"Talkative and illogical are a bit different, I don't care what I'm really saying. Probably reveal some deep secrets if asked about them. I'm used to this enough I can move around just too relaxed to care about a good or bad choice really.\" Andreas would look at them for a moment before shaking his head, he really didn't understand them right now. He would think someone would miss them? They didn't seem that lonely? Though maybe they were like him? He hadn't met anyone that down though, sure some were down a lot but not in the sense of they believed they desired to suffer that much. No, he was probably overthinking it at the moment. Letting the thought go he would see the town in the clearing, guess was time to make his way to an inn and get some sleep? He was kind of tired and probably could sleep now. He still wished he had some blood wine but probably best not to go looking for some with his tag along. Didn't need another reason for them to be curious of him?\n-\n\nHe wanted to set a bit of a good impression? Why he didn't know but he just seemed like he needed to? He still couldn't remember why they felt so familiar which was irritating but what can you do when you mind simply won't let you remember? He didn't think he'd taken any drug to wipe his mind. Sure he'd used such things once but he'd stayed away from such things a long time ago or so he thought. \"Seems like towns close, you sure you want to stick around? Last chance to probably leave without feeling bad.\" Andreas would step out into the town as he tried to remember where a good inn was, to the left maybe? He'd look both ways for a bit trying to remember before just deciding to walk towards the left and hope he was heading in the correct direction." }, { "author": "Doctor Jones", "message": "\"Well... People are hardly rational when dealing with matters of their or their loved ones' health,\" The Doctor replied with a faint shrug, as though it didn't bother them so much. It wasn't that big of a deal, was it? They were still here, after all, so what did it matter? Only after the words had left their mouth did they realize the irony behind their statement. Everything they went through, everything they did to try and save their brother's life, all those centuries ago... Indeed, dealing with love made people make some very foolish decisions.\n\nThey averted their gaze when pressed, giving another shrug. \"No, not really,\" They muttered absently. It was hard to miss that that was a lie, but the Doctor had made up their mind to not answer the question, and it was infamously difficult to change their mind when they'd set it on something in that way. His next question, they didn't even give the decency of a reply, only keeping their eyes down at the ground, watching the dirt of the forest turn into the cobbled roads of the city. Seemed like they were getting close, luckily. It didn't matter if they stayed or left, the conversation would be coming to an end either way.\n\nThe direction the stranger was walking struck them as odd - surely he knew the closest inn was to the right. Or maybe he was too out of it to notice. \"You know you have to go that way, right?\" The Doctor asked, gesturing in the direction with their head. The only reason they knew about the inn there was because they had spent the night there quite recently, apparently. With a sigh, they started to saunter to the place, ready to speed up when the stranger caught up to them." }, { "author": "Andreas Featherfall", "message": "\"I suppose people aren't rational on those times. Can't say I done a lot like that in my lon... My short life.\" Andreas would look away as he didn't want to try and explain his miss step, was not something he could explain since he didn't look like someone being 140 for a aasimar. No, he'd look a lot older by now. He remembered seeing others around that age to know he shouldn't look this way. Though there was a lot that didn't look normal either with his wings, hair, and eyes not being the normal way when someone talked about a aasimar.\n\nHe wouldn't notice is any of the questions got missed or their not so great answer as he would have been trying to decide which way to go. Stopping once hearing he was going the wrong way. Or maybe he was just wrong on the direction, turning back to follow the doctor along to the inn. \"Yeah, just was testing you on where it was... You're still new here got to make sure you know a place to stay if you had to.\"\n\nAndreas would stuff his hands into his pockets again as he caught up to them, he really should make sure next time no one was even close to around for this exact reason. Heading into the inn after a moment he'd go over to the desktop to get a room. He wasn't looking for anything expensive this time. Just some place to sleep for the night. Once he got a key he would show them it. \"You can leave now if you want to, I have a room to stay in.\"" }, { "author": "Doctor Jones", "message": "The misspeak was not something that was missed by the Doctor - no, they caught it quite clearly. So he was a lot older than he looked too, it seemed. Well, what did they care if he wanted to pretend he was younger than he was? It wasn't their problem either way, and they didn't care enough to ask.\n\n\"Sure you were,\" They replied dryly, speeding up once he'd caught up to them. It was hard to tell if they were joking or just being sarcastic, but considering the situation, the latter was more likely than the former. Probably.\n\nAs they arrived at the inn, the Doctor hesitated, trailing behind him. Should they stay or should they go? They could be pretty certain that he wouldn't be leaving any time soon, now that he was already here. He would be safe here, they didn't have to worry anymore about him running off into the cold... So then why did part of them want to stay? Why did they want to spend the night curled up in that warm embrace, those wings...\n\n\"If that's what you want,\" They eventually muttered noncommittally, shrugging as if they didn't care either way. \"You're safe now, so I suppose I can just go... Or whatever.\" Besides, they hadn't even exchanged names or anything. Maybe it would be best to leave." }, { "author": "Andreas Featherfall", "message": "Andreas wanted to make them stay, to be selfish just for one night. But being selfish he'd not done in a long time because of how everything had been for him after. Maybe if the situation was different it would be okay, but for the moment it would probably be best not to drag someone into this weather he wanted to do such a thing or not. And hell he really was tempted with how nonchalant they were being with it. He wanted to just grab them and whisk them off the the room just to hold them all night. He wouldn't probably say or do anything else but hold them.\n\nAndreas would take a step forward as he reached out slightly to do just that before stopping. No, he couldn't do that... He didn't think they liked being held and it would be uncomfortable for them all night. Stuffing his hands in his pockets so as not to do something irrational, it was hard to stop but maybe he should. \"Right... Not what I want though, but not worth making your night any worse. So, I suppose you're free and I will go rest?\" He didn't know why he wanted a clear answer on this, but it felt almost like it was the only way he was not going to whisk them off.\n\n\"Andreas... Names Andreas, not that it really matters at this point. You don't have to say anything.\" Andreas felt like he really was making a fool of himself. He'd shrug the feeling off though as he got a better look at them. They really did look not well and yet he'd made them stay out in the cold for a long time. \"Uh... If you need to warm up, I suggest you stay for a while? No reason to get too cold going back to where you been staying.\"" }, { "author": "Doctor Jones", "message": "That hesitation in the Aasimar's body was not missed by the Doctor, and though they wished they didn't, they couldn't help but think on it. Did he feel similarly? Was he hoping for them to stay? The way he reached out to them... There was no mistaking it, was there? It was clear that he wanted them to stay, but... What should they do about it?\n\n\"I never said it'd make my night worse,\" They muttered, gaze averted, voice so soft that it was barely audible. Couldn't he just say what he wanted? Say it clearly, so they didn't have to dance around this line of uncertainty? Then again... They could be doing the same thing, no? Say what they were so clearly wanting, but... Some part of them hated that they had to do that. Couldn't he just get it over with and pull them inside? Or push them away? This all was so frustrating.\n\nAt least they learned his name. \"Doctor Jones,\" They replied, \"Though I don't know if you'll remember it at all.\" They kept their gaze averted but raised their left hand, touching it to their neck for a moment or two. They felt their slower than usual heartbeat, the coldness of their hand... \"I suppose I'll have to agree. I should warm up at least a little.\" But that could be done downstairs too, near the fireplace, with a warm cup of some drink. Why wouldn't they do that? Why did they want to stay so badly...?" }, { "author": "Andreas Featherfall", "message": "Andreas didn't really know what he should do, well he did know yet didnt want to do it. He wanted them to stay with him specifically. He was wanting to be selfish just once. It was stupid of him to want it.\n\nAndreas would rock a bit back on his heels as he looked them over, he should let them just warm up by a fireplace. \"Doctor Jones, suits you for a name. As for remembering... Probably not clearly but who knows.\" Deciding just to be a bit selfish he would grab their arm lightly and pull them in. He could always get something warm delivered to the room. He hoped they wouldn't hate him for wanting to be a bit selfish at the moment. \n\nHe'd look around the room he'd gotten, it seemed simple. A small desk by the wind and a bed. He should have gotten something to drink or a warm soup. He supposed he could always go get some if needed after. \"Uh... The room is warm and you can use one of the blankets to warm up more\" Andreas would try not to just grab them too much, simply going over to the bed and getting one of the blankets before holding it out to them. \"I'll try not to just... Grab you like your some object... But... I still like to hold you, if that's okay?\" Andreas would be try to be a bit considerate but there was a limit to his resolve for sure." }, { "author": "Doctor Jones", "message": "The Doctor looked up at Andreas when he spoke to them, saying nothing in return. It didn't matter if he remembered their name or not, they couldn't care less. Names weren't a big deal to them - at least this one wasn't. This one was something random they'd picked because everyone around them kept asking for it. The other names they'd been called, those did matter... But those had been lost to time by now.\n\nTheir breath hitched when their arm was grabbed, but they didn't resist, taking a few steps forward as Andreas pulled them inside. Despite nothing really having happened yet, they could feel their heart racing in their chest, and they swallowed nervously. The Aasimar was so much stronger than them... Even if it seemed highly unlikely he had any bad intentions, they couldn't help but think of what might happen. What he could do to them, if he so desired. But... They had to trust that he wouldn't.\n\nInstead of speaking, the Doctor accepted the offered blanket and wrapped it around themself, casting their gaze around the room. Nothing interesting. Inevitably, their eyes wandered back to Andreas, watching his every movement. They were quiet for a moment at his question before nodding, shifting slightly to stand a little more comfortably. \"That's okay,\" The Doctor confirmed, but it was noticeable how nervous they were from how stiff their body language was. They needed to breathe and relax a little... But how did that work again?" }, { "author": "Andreas Featherfall", "message": "Andreas would still have tried to keep from hurting them as he pulled them in. Making sure they seemed okay before doing anything. He would hear their heart racing and wondered if they were scared or nervous. It seemed more they were nervous with the way they were reacting. \n\nAndreas would sit down on the bed as he looked at them with a bit of a curiosity. He wanted to say something else but didn't know what. This again felt kind of familiar but not completely. Maybe he just was imaging it. \"I'm not going to hurt you, I don't plan to harm anyone so you don't need to be a bit scared of anything bad happening.\"\n\nDeciding to be a bit bold he would get up, walking over to them slowly so as not to startle more than he probably was going to. Taking a moment to just be close to them before scooping them up in his arms, allowing a moment for them to get used to him grabbing them like this before he would head over to the bed. Sitting with his back against the wall and his wings relaxing slightly. He would hold them side ways across his lap, not holding them tightly but still having his arms wrapped around their waist in a comforting hold." }, { "author": "Doctor Jones", "message": "There was the urge to snap back at him. Say that they weren't scared of anything, that they were just... Well, not scared, that was for sure. For a moment, a twinge of annoyance was visible in the Doctor's face, before they took a deep breath and managed to relax slightly. \"...I know,\" They only replied softly, averting their gaze for a few moments before looking back at Andreas.\n\nEven if they were trying to push it down, deep down where it wouldn't be found, the Doctor couldn't help being nervous. This situation was one that was entirely unfamiliar to them, and they had no idea what to expect, no idea what would end up happening tonight. This nervousness was not helped by Andreas getting up suddenly, ans they tilted their head back slightly to look up at him as he did, maintaining eye contact. What was he planning on doing...?\n\nBreath once more hitched as they were suddenly embraced, and the Doctor froze up for just a moment before managing to relax slightly into the warmth of his arms. This was... Nice. It reminded them why they wanted this in the first place, and any doubts that they had were washed away, just like that.\n\nThey didn't protest or struggle as Andreas pulled them to the bed, and after taking a moment to adjust themself to be a little more comfortable, the Doctor remained in place, still quietly looking up at Andreas. However, after a few moments, their gaze lowered and they rested the side of their head against his chest, hesitating for another moment before lightly brushing their hand over it as well, eventually pressing their palm against his sternum, where his heart was. \"I like your heartbeat,\" The Doctor muttered absently, either not noticing or not caring how strange of a thing that was to say. \"It's... Strong.\" Much stronger than theirs, that was for sure - though that was a low bar to clear, to be fair." }, { "author": "Andreas Featherfall", "message": "Andreas didnt know if he was going to like this, if holding them would really be what he thought it was going to be like as he'd carried them over to the bed. Though once he was comfortable and it seemed they were as well. Any doubts it would be nice were gone. He wanted to hold them tighter but resisted doing so to make sure they still stayed comfortable. He was okay with just keeping them close. \"Sorry if I startled you, but I didn't think it would have gone any differently no matter how I went around this. Figured just getting it over with would be easier on us both.\" \n\nAt Jones though being more comfortable with him, he smiled a bit. Though at the moment of them placing their hand on his chest he'd go still. It felt more like something that happened before especially when they would brush their hand over his chest. He didn't know fully how to react to them doing this. Though he'd relax after a bit as it wasn't anything bad.\n\nHe'd hear their talk about his heartbeat and it would send a slight fear on if they could piece together why it was different. Though he tried to tell himself they wouldn't know. \"Yeah it is strong, don't want too weak of one... Though I can't say I heard anyone say before they simply liked it. But it's kind of nice knowing someone does. You're is quieter than mine but it's calming.\"" }, { "author": "Doctor Jones", "message": "After a little while, the Doctor suddenly pulled away slightly, sitting up a little straighter, though the reason why soon became evident. With both hands, they carefully undid the knots in the piece of string that held their hair tied up, freeing the white strands so that they could be a little more comfortable. Curiously enough, it gave them a slightly different look, appearing more like they were at home and comfortable instead of out and about.\n\nThe Doctor soon rested their head against Andreas' chest again after pocketing the string, and seeing his lack of rejection, placed their hand against his chest once more. \"It's fine, I don't mind,\" They mumbled softly, feeling kind of glad that they'd been pulled into this. Andreas' embrace was so much more comforting than it had any right to be... Maybe it was a bad idea, but they most definitely could get used to this.\n\nTheir own heart rate, now that they were sitting down and very much calming down, was a lot slower than most peoples'. Indeed, it was somewhat on the weaker side, perhaps a little worryingly so - but really, what about their body wasn't worrying? \"So... What now?\" The Doctor's voice was soft as they looked up at Andreas, grey eyes meeting his. \"Do we just... Stay like this?\" They wouldn't mind that at all, not one bit." }, { "author": "Andreas Featherfall", "message": "At them suddenly moving he'd look at them curiously, wondering for a moment on what they might be doing. He'd almost wanted to grab them tighter thinking they would leave, but told himself to just hold on. It might not be that, which soon he was able to see just that. Tilting his head as he observed them a bit more with this new look. Deep inside he thought of saying something but decided not to as he simply would just wrap his arms a little tighter around them. Still not enough to hurt them any just to have them close. Which he could tell they weren't very healthy this way but chose to not say anything about it.\n\nAt them saying they didn't mind he'd smile slightly, he still didn't want to do anything to make them want to leave so he was being a bit cautious though he would move one of his wings to be a bit of a second blanket over them. Maybe this would warm them up a bit quicker as he didn't want them to get sick because of something he caused by being stubborn out there. Though he would frown a bit at their heart rate, it shouldn't have sounded like that unless they were sleeping and even then he knew it wasn't quite right. They were a doctor yet looked this sick? Why? It didn't seem normal to him. Maybe sometime he could make them get a bit of help? Of course if they still continued to meet that is.\n\nAndreas would look down at them at wondering what was next. He wasn't going to say it but he did like their grey eyes, though he was feeling a lot of just emotions he'd not in a long time. The main thing though was he felt like he needed to protect them? Keeping them warm and safe felt kind of right? \"Well I did this because I figured you feel more comfortable like this than probably laying down. Plus I do get to hold you close this way without it seeming... Awkward.\" Andreas eyes Jones was able to finally see were not the normal glowing eyes. No, instead they looked normal, being a forest green though the one had a slash of grey going through it." }, { "author": "Doctor Jones", "message": "The Doctor knew how unhealthy they were, it was no secret to them. Their low weight caused a lot of issues, their lack of sleep even more so, and that was not to speak of their mental issues. It was all a complete disaster, and frankly, they had no desire to start fixing it. It wasn't worth it, nor did they believe they deserved it.\n\nBut still... The warm wing wrapped around their body made them feel strangely at ease. Safe, in a way they hadn't felt in a long time. Like nothing could harm them right now. The Doctor blinked slowly, showing their contentment with the situation as they looked up at him. Maybe they would have noticed the lack of glowing eyes, or any other strange things about him, were it not for their unfamiliarity with the species. No, all they noticed was the green eyes, a color that was strangely mesmerizing to look into.\n\n\"I'm not feeling awkward,\" They replied softly, lowering their head and breaking the eye contact, instead nestling against his chest a little more. \"Nor uncomfortable. I'd tell you if I was.\" Hopefully he would do the same. \"I wouldn't mind laying down so we can get some sleep,\" They added after a moment, voice somehow turning even softer than before. With their face hidden, it was impossible to see their expression, but they did grab a hold of his shirt with the hand that was on his chest. This was so nice... Even if Andreas was planning to stay awake, they sure as hell were about to drift to sleep." }, { "author": "Andreas Featherfall", "message": "Though he wanted to do something to help them he had no way to. If he was still able to heal and do such things he probably would try. But at this point of how he was, he could just hope he helped them feel safe in the moment. He would be gentle and rub their back a bit. Just wanting to help them keep feeling at ease. \n\nHe didn't know if he could change anything for them but least for the moment he was able to do something even if he couldn't remember it in the morning. It felt though strange to have someone looking at him content. He didn't remember a last time he had felt like this with another. \n\nAndreas would keep rubbing their back as he listened to them. He was glad they didn't seem uncomfortable with this and seemed relaxed. He didn't want to move yet but at hearing the sleep in their voice he knew it was probably best. Keeping them still close he'd hold them as he shifted his body, being slow as moved to be laying down. He didn't know how they would want to lay so he left it up to them a bit if they rather sleep against his chest with him on his back or not. He wouldn't lie it just simply felt nice being close to them and feeling content for once." }, { "author": "Doctor Jones", "message": "The Doctor was momentarily surprised when Andreas started moving, but as with just now, went along with it without complaining, adjusting their position as they went down to try and prevent either of them from being uncomfortable. Maybe they weren't entirely in their right mind either. Maybe the exhaustion was making them do things that they usually wouldn't do. But right now... Right now, none of that seemed like it mattered.\n\nThey laid on top of Andreas for a moment or two before quickly figuring out that this wasn't a comfortable position to sleep in and rolling off him to curl up against his left side instead, their left arm draped over his chest, right tucked against their chest. Perhaps they should have changed into something more appropriate, but honestly, the amount of times that the Doctor slept in their regular clothes made it so this one time really didn't matter that much. They were too tired to care anyway.\n\nAnd soon enough, their breathing slowed significantly, eyes closed, body relaxing. They had fallen asleep quickly, and if left undisturbed, they'd be sleeping until the morning came, dreams remaining absent for once. Like this, they looked so very peaceful all of a sudden. The worries that usually clouded their mind when they were awake were gone, and that hint of sadness that was usually present, alongside that tension in their body language, both were absent. That, and the surprisingly long white hair draped loosely over their shoulder and the rest of the bed, made for a picture of an almost entirely different person - or, put differently, the person that they could be if they weren't so haunted by their past and everything that came because of it." }, { "author": "Andreas Featherfall", "message": "Andreas didng mind them moving to his left side. He wanted them to be comfortable and he didn't mind them being close to his side. Letting them drap their arm over him felt... Good? He didn't get why still but he did enjoy this moment with someone, there was just a peace to the night with them close. He would stay still for a moment before wrapping an arm around them, still staying on his back. He didn't mind what they were wearing as long as they stayed comfortable.\n\nHe'd just look over at them, noticing the change in their breathing and body relaxing. He knew they fell asleep quickly which he was glad they seemed completely content. He'd try to keep a memory of how they looked now with just being at peace. He wished they would be able to have such a look when awake as well, but he couldn't just do that for them either.\n\nLeaning his head back he would look up at the ceiling for a while, this night definitely wasn't what he had expected he knew but it was a in a good way. After a bit he would fall asleep himself, finally getting to go into a dreamless sleep with no worries or memories of the past. He simply felt as if he was floating in a void absent of anything disturbing him for once. A sleep he needed to no doubt feel a bit normal again once he would wake, though he pretty well slept as if he was dead till morning." }, { "author": "Doctor Jones", "message": "After a dreamless sleep, it was at the crack of dawn, after managing to sleep for about five hours, that the Doctor awoke. This had been a better rest than they'd had in ages, though they were uncertain why when they woke up initially. They were warm and comfortable, sure, but that was normal when they were covered in blankets and curled up near a fireplace. No, it was something else.\n\nThe fingers of their left hand twitched lightly for a moment and they were planning to sit up, but something made them stop. Something felt... Odd. There was... Someone else here with them. Their arm, draped over a chest that was rising and falling, their head, buried in someone's side. Someone very much alive was sleeping next to them, and they had no idea what the hell was going on, what happened - until the memories suddenly came flooding back.\n\nThe Doctor realized with a start what happened last night, and what they'd accepted, though they didn't dare move a muscle, not wanting to startle the other. Instead, they just tried to wake up a little more and process everything, still in the same position they fell asleep in. It was comfortable - they were comfortable - and part of them was wishing that the Aasimar wouldn't wake up so that they could stay like this for a while longer, laying comfortably against him." }, { "author": "Andreas Featherfall", "message": "Andreas stayed sleeping for the rest of the night. He was having a very good rest that he needed. As the dawn came his body kind of knew he should be up but yet he still stayed asleep. He knew something was different, the air just seemed different but it also felt comfortable so he didn't want to get up. No, instead he would just try to sleep longer. \n\nHe felt something move slightly against his chest, that was strange but it didn't mean something bad when he just felt relaxed. His mind was still foggy with sleep and so he just thought this was something from the past. Staying still for a good ten minutes before starting to notice he wasn't alone and it didn't feel like a dream either.\n\nSure he wanted this feeling to be real but he also knew he didn't just do this either. No, he stayed away from being close to someone yet he could hear a heartbeat close to him. He was also starting to notice the weight of an arm on his chest. At this point his mind would be trying to piece together what was going on, had he taken someone, gone to a brothel? He usually avoided doing that type of thing yet here he was was someone. Deciding he needed to face this strange he would slowly sit up, trying not to hurt whoever was with him. Looking towards his left to see just who was there, did he recognize them? This was all things he was trying to find out before anything else happened." }, { "author": "Doctor Jones", "message": "Only when the other started to stir and wake up did the Doctor reluctantly open their eyes, though they didn't quite sit up yet. Instead, they waited for the other to do so, still more than a little comfortable and unwilling to be the first to get up. \n\nUnfortunately, all good things had to come to an end. Andreas sat up, and the Doctor reluctantly followed his example as they pulled away from him, keeping their arms to themself again. Sitting up, they crossed their legs beneath themself and absently combed through their hair with their fingers before grabbing that piece of string again and tying it up in the same style as usual.\n\nOnly once that was done did they look up at Andreas again, but said nothing, waiting for him to speak up. What was he going to do or say, faced with such a situation? Would he even remember what happened last night, considering how out of it he was? There was a risk he'd think they had done something to him and would try to cause them harm, but if that were the case, well, not much they could do about it now, was there? They could only hope that this day would not be their final day on this planet." }, { "author": "Andreas Featherfall", "message": "Though Andreas was still trying to piece together all that had happened he knew he couldn't just walk out without figuring if he'd done something. Taking note of who was beside him was surprising, it took a moment to recognize them but when he did his mind would race through what possible could have happened this time around. He recognized enough that the lack of memories meant he'd taken something strong over the regular Reverie Sticks. That or he'd hit his head very hard, though he guessed more the former. \n\nIt didn't seem like much happened, there was nothing to suggest otherwise in the room besides he had a past stranger beside him. Running a hand through his hair Andreas would finally speak. \"Uh... Morning... Did you sleep well? Listen if I... Did anything that crossed a line or something I apologize. I really don't remember really anything from last night... I do hope I didn't do something you weren't wanting.\" \n\nAndreas really felt a bit awkward with the whole ordeal, if he could remember even part of it least maybe he'd feel better about it but with it all a blank he really hoped he'd not gone looking for someone. He tried to keep his distance from others usually not go seeking someone out. Especially someone he meet randomly before. \"If I caused any harm I will pay for your treatment. I... I'll be honest I'm a bit embarrassed I don't remember what happened... Hopefully this wasn't too much like last time.\" Andreas looked at them for a first sober Andreas closely. It always was interesting how others looked in different light, though he was sure was probably the same for how he looked to others. It was still early but he did feel refreshed again. He never really understood how it worked but guessed part if it came from the vampiric side of him." }, { "author": "Doctor Jones", "message": "The Doctor couldn't help it - a yawn escaped them, one they quickly hid behind a hand as they closed their eyes for a few moments. Eyes remaining closed, they made an attempt to rub the sleep out of them with both hands, looking very much like they didn't want to be awake right now. Not a morning person, apparently.\n\nAs Andreas spoke up, they looked up at him, folding their hands back on their lap. There was some curiosity in the Doctor's gaze, a slight tilt of the head as they watched him, but for the rest, their expression was incredibly neutral. They let the silence linger for a moment before speaking up, voice as soft and low as always. \"No, you didn't do anything wrong,\" They said with a shake of the head. The Doctor had kind of wanted to lie, say that he did do something, just to see what his reaction would be, but that would be cruel and they should not do that, they reminded themself. Still, the temptation was very much there.\n\n\"You didn't cause me any harm,\" They tried to reassure him, watching him fumble. He was way different from how he was last night, that was for sure. A lot more nervous energy, though that might be because of the situation at hand. Still, it was interesting to see him like this, and the Doctor was kind of glad that they'd stuck around - there was something amusing about it. \"What happened last time, then?\" Was there another time they'd met? Or was he referring to some meeting with someone else? What had he done? This man kept getting more and more interesting by the minute, especially now that the Doctor was more awake and their mind a lot sharper than last night." }, { "author": "Andreas Featherfall", "message": "If he'd not been trying to still understand what had happened the night before and if he'd done something he'd probably have found them not being a morning person cute. He still kind of did but he wasn't showing it as he'd tried to next be taking in if anything was missing. Mostly his ring being the main thing he didn't want missing and he didn't see any bite marks so he wasn't worried there. He'd done it a fee times when being high had gone for the more fresh blood when he wasn't thinking rationally. Though it was a very rare thing now to even happen.\n\nHe was releaved they said nothing was wrong with the night. It helped him stop worrying so much as he'd take a bit more time now simply observing the doctor. Their posture made them seem almost like a curious cat to him, it was kind of amusing but he kept that to himself. Letting his wings stretch out while still being careful not to knock anything over as he had the left one fold a bit while being stretched out before he'd fold them back into a relaxed state.\n\n\"That's releaving to hear... I...I done that before when I forgot my memories. It's rare but uh... It has happened.\" He didn't know how much they knew of his night, he didn't plan to bring up an illegal drug he was sure he probably was on last night. Looking up at them a bit confused for a moment before it would click \"Uh... Last time?..Right I did say last time didn't I? Uh that, well uh how to put this to not make it sound awkward. A high someone on Devil's Root was very fascinated with my wings, and some other things.\" Andreas would rub his neck as he recalled the night he hoped he hadn't acted too much worse than that. That would be embarrassing but usually he didn't ever recall acting too much that way more just no control on what he's talking about usually." }, { "author": "Doctor Jones", "message": "The Doctor watched Andreas as he seemingly inspected his possessions, wondering if he thought they'd stolen anything. How would they even get away with that? Right now, he could probably do just about anything he desired to them and they'd be powerless to resist. Then again... They supposed it couldn't hurt to check. Maybe he thought he might've lost something by accident, that seemed a lot more reasonable of an assumption. Perhaps they were a little too paranoid of being accused of a crime.\n\nEither way, it seemed that he found what he was looking for, much to their relief. No need to worry about any consequences, luckily. They watched as he stretched his wings and had to resist the urge to reach out and touch them. Part of them knew that they would be incredibly soft, but... Why did they know that? They hadn't felt the wings that much last night, not enough to clearly recall the feeling of running their hands over them. How very, very strange.\n\n\"When you're on drugs, you mean?\" The Doctor asked with a slight tilt of the head. It was better that Andreas found out that they knew now, then there would hopefully be a little less awkwardness. \"Bane, was it?\" Despite how tired they'd been, they recalled last night quite clearly, though they weren't sure why. Their memory was spotty at the best of times, and so why they remembered everything so clearly now... It made no sense.\n_ _\n\nThey were quiet for a long while after Andreas spoke up again. That was their drug of choice, and being fascinated with something like those wings, something unusual they didn't see all that often, did sound like them. It would explain the weird sense of déjà vu they got, why they thought Andreas was so familiar, although... What were the 'other things' he mentioned? \"Was that about a week ago?\" The Doctor asked eventually, hands folded together loosely on their lap, gaze averted. If it coincided with that vague memory of theirs from last week, maybe they could finally figure out what happened back then, though... Did they really want to know?" }, { "author": "Andreas Featherfall", "message": "Andreas would be a fiddling with his ring at this point as he tried to recall the night still. Though he didn't know why he was still trying so hard as it wasn't seeming to come back and just made him frustrated. He was glad nothing seemed to be missing as he sometimes would lose things and if he was out of it it wasn't unlikely someone would steal something. Though still his main thing was always his ring. It had taken him years to find a mage that could make such a ring and he didn't want to ever go back to the night life. He loved seeing the sun and being in the element he felt more himself in as an aasimar. \n\nThough at being asked if he'd meant when on drugs and they named the illegal drug he would have used, he stop fiddling with his ring. Looking back at them as he contemplated on denying it, though it seemed they already knew he'd been on that specific drug. Giving a sigh he knew no matter what he said about it they didn't seemed like they were going to turn him in, least they didn't seem to be thinking that way. \"Yes, when I'm on drugs. Usually strong drugs especially. Uh which is rare.\" He'd hold up his hands a bit as he didn't want them thinking he was that addicted to drugs* \"I... I only do that when I'm unable to sleep for... A long time.\" \n\nAndreas' wings would twitch slightly as he didn't get why he was feeling nervous like this still. He usually was mostly calm but this whole thing seemed to have just caught him off guard. \"It was you, about a week ago in the forest. I'd brought you here actually since you didn't remember where you were staying. I though left right after as you feel asleep so nothing happened that night. I just carried you here and you just have the fascination with my wings being soft and the othet things.\"" }, { "author": "Doctor Jones", "message": "He really didn't have to justify his drug usage to them, the Doctor was one of the least likely people to judge. They could more than understand occasionally needing a little more to deal with everything - and besides, they were a doctor, they were very much used to dealing with matters such as those. And yet... They didn't say any of that. Even now, even after last night, they weren't going to admit any of their own... Less than savory habits.\n\n\"I see,\" They said instead, seeming content to drop the topic there. The Doctor kept their gaze averted and raised their left hand to absently start toying with a strand of hair that had managed to escape their ponytail, twirling it around and around their index finger in a manner that could be seen as endearing, or more likely, completely ignored. \"I'm not going to tell anyone. You don't have to worry about that.\" The statement was a sincere one, even if Andreas might find that difficult to believe, considering the general public's opinion on substances like those.\n\nThey paused their twirling when he spoke up again, though, and turned their head to look at him again, blinking a few times in what seemed like surprise. \"Is that so...\" They muttered softly. \"I suppose that does explain a lot.\" There was some relief that came with it, with knowing what had happened in that lost time - they rarely got to do that. \"I also suppose I should thank you for not causing me any harm. Though... I have to wonder what you mean by 'other things'. Was I... Inappropriate somehow?\"" }, { "author": "Andreas Featherfall", "message": "Andreas felt better after saying he didn't use drugs like that a lot, it wasn't something he liked bring up but it wasn't a worst thing to admit either on what he'd done in the past. He'd notice them starting to toy with a strand of their hair. He wondered a bit of what might be going through their head at that moment. \"Thank you for not going to tell anyone, it is a worry at times but well it's only thing that helps when I get that much lack of sleep. And now I'm trying to explain it more... Sorry about that probably something you don't really care about.\"\n\nAndreas would run his right hand through his hair as he tried to figure out what do. He did feel like he needed a drunk even though it was early or some Reverie Sticks but he had neither on him. \"Suppose we both got a night that is missing pieces? Though it's not really uncommon when using a high dose. I can't say I was fully innocent that night, I had said some things that were a bit... Inappropriate probably.\" Andreas would give a bit of a sheepish smile as he admitted to a bit of his own faults of that night. \"You just changed your fascination from my wings to my chest when I was carrying you. It was all innocent as you were not exactly knowing you were doing it.\"\n\nAndreas would shrug it off as nothing as it really wasn't anything that had been bad just was something that had happened. Looking at them he would lean forward a bit and gently feel their forehead to see if they were doing better as he remembered them being colder at least from the night. \"Uh, maybe a strange question but would it be alright if I paid for a meal for you? Least get you something, we can stay and talk or not if you wanted to.\"" }, { "author": "Doctor Jones", "message": "Now that they'd made sure that Andreas knew of their own drug habit, the Doctor found that they minded it being brought up less. They weren't entirely comfortable with discussing it yet, but at least they didn't have to deny it anymore. \"I understand,\" They replied, absently taking their right wrist in their left hand, looking down at their hands, both being partially hidden in the sleeves of their usual oversized cardigan. \"It... Helps take the mind off things, no? Gets it peaceful and quiet enough to sleep.\" At least, that was their experience with it.\n\nThey looked up at him as he moved a hand through his hair, resisting the urge to do the same thing. It seemed like it'd be very soft... And there was only one way to find that out for certain. Best not do it, though. Wouldn't want to risk him retaliating. \"It's fine,\" They said for what felt like the millionth time this past day. \"You didn't say or do anything particularly inappropriate. Nothing that I found all that bad, at least.\" Some uncomfortable topics, maybe, but not anything too bad.\n\n\"Suppose I was probably interested in your heartbeat,\" The Doctor guessed, cringing internally slightly at what felt like a vague memory prodding at the surface. \"I just...\" They hesitated, then shook their head. \"Forget it.\" How were they supposed to admit to a stranger that they were fascinated by blood and everything that came with it? It seemed like a terrible idea for sure. Best keep it to themself.\n_ _\n\nAnd then, that soft touch on their forehead, and the Doctor couldn't stop from flinching, curling their hand more tightly around their wrist for a moment before managing to relax. It had just caught them off guard, people didn't often touch them willingly. Right now, though their body temperature wasn't as low as it was last night, it was still below average, likely due to their skinny frame. The Doctor wasn't focused on that, though, instead paying more attention to the question. They lowered their gaze, thinking it over for a few moments, blinking slowly. However, eventually came their soft reply, an almost apologetic mutter as they tightly squeezed their wrist, hand easily wrapping around it; \"...I'm not hungry.\"" }, { "author": "Andreas Featherfall", "message": "Andreas was glad they both seemed to be past the topic for the most part on drugs. It was one of those things it had been just a struggle for him for a very long time. \"Yeah, it does help, especially when things get too noisy with... Things. Seem like you understand that need at times too.\"\n\n\"I'm glad nothing happened and again you doing that the other time wasn't anything bad. My heartbeat is well a bit different so I suppose as a doctor you are more interested in that type of thing. If I'm being honest that night you were high I was fascinated with your hair. It's honestly a beautiful white.\" Andreas would look down at his hands after saying that as he hadn't believed he'd just said that type of thing. Couldn't take it back now though.\n\nHe noticed how they would be holding their right wrist, he didn't know what it was meant for but he didn't want to ask any uncomfortable questions of them. Especially since they did seem that way with him having checked their tempature and than ask if they wanted to eat something. \"Well that's okay, how about something to warm to drink? You can feel my wings also if you want to. Or if you are wanting to leave I'm not trying to keep you here.\"" }, { "author": "Doctor Jones", "message": "It was a convenient statement to hop on top of. Andreas was the one who'd said that they were interested in it because they were a doctor, not for any other reason. There was nothing else behind their curiosity, no sir. It wasn't because despite everything, they had a strange curiosity about anything related to blood that bordered on the obsessive, they were just a doctor and his heartbeat was just curious, that was all. \"...Yeah,\" They muttered, shrugging absently. \"That's probably it.\" Better leave the topic there before they revealed something they weren't meant to.\n\nThough... The compliment caught them off guard completely, and they looked up at Andreas, blinking in surprise. Was he being serious? Well, they supposed that when it came to their physical attributes, this one was one of the few things one could comfortably compliment. Maybe their eyes as well, but the rest of them was... Off-putting, they knew that much. The Doctor lowered their head again, exhaling a soft sigh. \"Thanks... I suppose,\" They muttered noncommittally, seemingly attempting to brush off his words and trying to move on.\n\nAnother long pause. Should they stay? The Doctor looked out of the window to gauge the time, then back down at their hands. They did still have some free time left, and the estate wasn't too far from here... \"I can do that,\" They said, hesitating and then getting up, stretching their arms in front of them, joints cracking noticeably. \"But I won't be spending much longer here. I have other things to do.\"" }, { "author": "Andreas Featherfall", "message": "Andreas would hear that they seemed uncertain almost at the reason was for being a doctor. Was there another reason? He was curious to almost ask if there was. Maybe another topic for later? \n\nAndreas did mean what he said, he did like there hair and some other things but revealing that all could sound like he maybe was a bit stalker or obsessive? Least he didn't want to seem like that. He did want to say more but for the moment he didn't know. His question on if they would stay for a drink was mostly what he was worried about. He didn't really want them to leave just yet. But he'd look at them saying he was going to stay, giving a smile as he was happy they would for a little more. \n\nBeing a bit too excited he would get up and hug them from behind before realizing his mistake at being a bit quick to action. \"Uh, that's fine, I don't mind if it's not long. Guess I'm... Not wanting you to leave yet? But I can understand needing to do other things.\" Andreas would step back as he felt a little embarrassed for just hugging them from behind. \"Sorry about that... Guess it just felts nice to uh... Do that?\"" }, { "author": "Doctor Jones", "message": "The sudden embrace was more than a little surprising to the Doctor, and they froze up as they tried to process what was going on, having decided long ago that freezing up in situations like these was better than doing any kind of action that might result in either person getting hurt. But how to react to it? How were they supposed to respond to such a thing?\n\nBefore they had a chance to react, Andreas stepped back and released them, and the Doctor was quick to spin around so there would not be any more surprises like that. They weren't sure what to say, only looking at him without saying a word for a little while before averting their gaze, stuffing their hands into their pockets. \"It's... Fine,\" They muttered, expression unreadable. \"Let's just go.\"\n\nWith that, they exited the room, assuming that Andreas would follow behind them. They seemed a lot less happy to be held like that than last night, and why was impossible to figure out - even for them. They were acting so coldly all of a sudden, and they had no idea why. But it didn't matter, did it? They were going to just grab a drink, leave, and then the two of them likely would never encounter each other again." }, { "author": "Andreas Featherfall", "message": "Andreas was kind of beating himself up inside for doing something like that. He just didn't know what to say at doing that. Why was he doing something like that? It wasn't normal for him to act that way with someone, least hasn't been that way for years. More than years actually, it was decades since he had.\n\nHe didn't want them to leave maybe? No, it didn't matter what he wanted. Nodding at them seeming okay, hopefully he hadn't caused too much of a divide but he guessed he had maybe already before than.\n\nRunning his hand through his hair as he tried to compose himself. Just get a drink and leave. It was probably best and it wasn't like they planned to meet again. Letting them leave first before he would follow them. He really did feel bad for making them seem upset almost? He didn't know what they were really thinking. \"Uh... What exactly do you enjoy drinking usually?\" Maybe some small talk could help? That or they just wouldn't answer." }, { "author": "Doctor Jones", "message": "The Doctor was glad they had their back turned to Andreas as they walked through the hallway and downstairs to the inn's main area, as it allowed them enough time to compose themself. Admittedly, they were more flustered than they'd like to admit. It had caught them off guard completely, and they were struggling to figure out how to deal with the situation. Maybe it would be best to just ignore it and try to pretend it didn't happen?\n\nOnly once arriving in the more open area did they turn back to him, face as neutral as ever. That question... Perhaps strangely, they gave a dry, humorless smile. What did they enjoy? There was nothing to enjoy about drinking. Even less so than eating, which was something that was already incredibly uninteresting, especially when other people were nearby. But... They didn't mention any of that to him. \"Just... Something warm with as much sugar as they're legally allowed to give me,\" They said, smile vanishing.\n\nAssuming that Andreas was going to get something like that for them, the Doctor wandered to the nearest table and sat down at it, crossing their legs beneath them, sitting on the chair. Leaning forward, they crossed their arms on the table and rested their chin on them, watching Andreas with tired eyes, looking so very, very small like that." }, { "author": "Andreas Featherfall", "message": "Andreas didn't know if he could say anything to make up for what he did but for the moment he just would follow them to the main area. He'd keep his hands to himself or least try his best to. He'd have his hands in his pockets. He was conscious about his wings and kept them tightly against his back. They were something he still felt a shame about as he knew they meant he wasn't a pure Aasimar.\n\n\"Like having sweets or more to wake up? You don't seem very... Happy at the moment. If your not comfortable staying we can simply part ways.\" Andreas shrugged as he didn't want this to keep turning down a sour path.\n\nHe wondered why they seemed so small, but part of that also was he was a lot taller than them and had different builds. He'd sit down across from them, letting his wings relax slightly now that he didn't have so much worry about them being in the way of someone.* \"My tastes are a bit different so that much sweet is usually a lot, go for a bit more bitter I suppose.\"" }, { "author": "Doctor Jones", "message": "So he hadn't understood the not-so-subtle hint, the Doctor absently thought to themself, watching him sit down in front of them. Wasn't one of them meant to actually get the drinks? They'd intended for Andreas to do so, but... Apparently he hadn't noticed that. How unfortunate.\n\n\"Well... Something like that,\" They muttered absently, really not willing to go into the details of their problems with taste right now. Hopefully Andreas would catch the hint that this was something they didn't really want to discuss right now. \"I'm fine staying for a little bit... But if you want me to leave, I'll go.\"\n\nIt was strange. No, strange wasn't the word - it was infuriating. Though they'd felt pretty refreshed when they just woke up, the Doctor was already feeling it fade, making them return to their more usual low levels of energy. They kind of wanted to fall asleep on the table right now, but held their eyes open, deciding to try and focus on the conversation in an attempt to prevent falling asleep. \"I see,\" They replied, continuing to be as awful at making conversation about things they didn't care about as ever. \"That's... Nice.\" No, they really couldn't force themself to feign interest. But the things they did care about were awful for conversation. What a pain..." }, { "author": "Andreas Featherfall", "message": "Andreas would look at them as he thought about saying something to it all but would eventually decided to get up and get their drinks first. Coming back after a bit was a warm cup of coffee for himself and warm milk drink for Jones. Setting down their cup before heading back to sit across from them.\n\n\"Well you don't have to explain anything to me on why you go for sweet drinks more. Hopefully this will be fine, it's a warm milk one that's mixed with wine. I heard it's usually a good sweet tasting drink.\" Andreas would sip on his coffee as he didn't want them feeling pressured into talking about anything that wasn't something they didn't want to.\n\nLooking over at them over his cup before trying to understand what to ask.* \"Is there something you want to talk about or know? It doesn't have to be some simple topic, I'm used to some more harder topics.\"" }, { "author": "Doctor Jones", "message": "The Doctor examined the drink for a moment, holding both hands around the cup as they inspected the liquid. They really were about to take a sip, already lifting the thing to their lips - but then, what Andreas said made them hesitate.\n\n\"What do you mean, wine?\" They asked, practically snapped, lowering the cup to place it back down. That... Wasn't what they said. They'd asked for Sugar, not something sweet. But... They wouldn't want to be ungrateful either, right? The Doctor kept their face neutral as they tried to figure out a proper reaction. Usually they would have just said so bluntly, but something about Andreas made them want to keep him from leaving. \"I don't... Like alcohol,\" They eventually said, gaze averted, holding back their usual harshness, hoping that Andreas wouldn't mind the way they'd snapped initially.\n\nA sense of awkwardness washed over them, and the Doctor held their hands under the table so that they could trace that roadmap of scars hidden beneath their right sleeve without Andreas noticing - a self-soothing mechanism of sorts. His question went ignored for now as they held their head lowered, awaiting the annoyance that would no doubt come in return. Maybe they should have left after all..." }, { "author": "Andreas Featherfall", "message": "Andreas set down his coffee before moving away Jones drink towards himself. He wasn't mad, a bit surprised by them snapping but he also understood why if they didn't like alcohol. \"It's okay, I should have just gotten something else, I just asked on what was a good sweet warm drink and got that. There is nothing wrong and no spilt milk to cry over. I will fix it.\"\n\nAndreas would get up as he went to get something else, he didn't mind. Though he could tell it had struck some nerve for the doctor. Getting just a warm milk and sugar mixture. He'd ask for some chocolate in a separate cup just in case maybe they wanted to make a hot chocolate. He didn't really know so he just would try this. Heading back once he got it and would set it down. \"It's just warm milk with sugar, there's chocolate if you wish to mix some in, but you don't have to.\"\n\nSitting down as he didn't look at them while running a finger around the rim of his cup. He didn't want to make them uncomfortable or drink something they didn't like. Andreas' wings would fluff slightly with his mood but he wasn't planning to let it ruin this too much. \"If it's something else you need we can get that. I'm not worried about getting a new one.\"" }, { "author": "Doctor Jones", "message": "A quiet sigh escaped the Doctor as Andreas went to replace their drink, and then momentarily buried their face in their arms, groaning softly. This entire situation was such a damn mess... Why had they agreed to any of it?\n\nAnd still, they didn't want to leave. They raised their head when Andreas arrived and took a whiff of the drink, pretending to sniff it for any hint of alcohol even if they couldn't smell a thing at all. Why were they even pretending? They usually wouldn't bother... Did they want him to think they were normal? Well, less abnormal than they were? Their gaze drifted over to the chocolate, and after examining this too, the Doctor didn't hesitate before dumping and mixing all of it in - many people assumed they had an incredible sweet tooth, and stuff like this was no helping those assumptions.\n\n\"Thanks,\" They muttered, folding their hands around the cup, glad to feel its warmth. Even if they couldn't really taste, or smell, there was something comforting about drinking warm things, and they were glad to take a few sips, eyes closing as they did so as if to savor the taste. \"This is fine,\" They said afterwards, putting down the cup again, still held tightly within their hands. A moment of silence, in which they kept their gaze pointed at the drink, and then they added in a much softer voice; \"...Sorry for snapping at you like that.\" This was a statement that was obviously genuine, for once." }, { "author": "Andreas Featherfall", "message": "Andreas chuckled at seeing them just dumping all the chocolate into their drink. He didn't care what they liked or didn't like as long as it made them happy or enjoyed it. Sure they were a bit different but so was he. It wasn't bad to be different just made some things a bit harder in life when you have past mistakes weighing on you. Sure them snapping had startled him but it was a reasonable reason.\n\nSure he did wonder a bit why they went for such amounts of sugar but he guessed it might be a reason from their past like how he likes a a mix of blood wine with his morning coffee. Though it did also help hide the fact he drank such a thing. Though today wasn't one of those days for such a drink so normal coffee would have to do. Andreas would observe them a bit as they tasted it, it didn't seem quite the right reactions to taste, it seemed more to enjoying the warmth of the cup. But it wasn't something he was going to address and make them uncomfortable with. \"Don't worry about it, I can handle a little snap back. As I said before it was reasonable.\"\n\nAndreas would shrug as it really was nothing. He could ask more of why later maybe if they ever met again. But he didn't feel like now was a time to push anything on them. If they wanted to meet again he would wait. Maybe this was a test from the goddess? To see what he would do or maybe it simply was just he finally wanted to try with someone again. It had been over a century since he'd last been with someone, well in a genuine sense. He'd been less than a gentleman during his bad years, brothels was a normal place for him during nights. Which is why he was now used to using Reverie Sticks as a normal daily drug when he was getting a bit more than feeling agitated and wanted to take someone up into the clouds by their foot and drop them. Blinking a few times Andreas would wonder how long he got lost in thought, hopefully it hadn't been noticeable." }, { "author": "Doctor Jones", "message": "The Doctor was quiet as they sipped their drink, cup held in both hands, gazing down into the liquid. Even if it probably wasn't the most healthy drink out there, they were appreciative of the warmth it brought them inside with every sip, and they needed whatever nutrients they could get. It was their reason for always asking for so much sugar - it was an easy way to get their body some nutrients, and for whatever reason, they didn't struggle with drinking nearly as much as with eating. It was hard to miss that they desperately needed whatever they could get, that anything was better than nothing, and so they went for this.\n\nTheir gaze slowly drifted up to the person sitting opposite them, watching him drink his own drink. What was he thinking about? He seemed to be lost in thought... Best not disturb him. Instead, the Doctor only examined him, taking in the details of his face that they hadn't had a chance to look at before. Even they could tell that he was objectively good-looking, despite not really being interested in anything like that. The general shape of his face, that jawline, that hair, those eyes... Gods, it was hard not to get drawn in by them.\n\nOnly when Andreas blinked a few times suddenly did the Doctor avert their gaze, clearing their throat and quickly taking another sip. They hadn't been staring, not at all. Why would they even stare at him? Curiosity, that had to be it. Curiosity about what? Best not think about it. No, instead, they should try and change the topic of the conversation. They cleared their throat again before speaking up, voice as low and soft as always. \"So... I'm guessing you'll have to get back to your own business after this, then,\" They stated, hands clasped around the cup to stop themself from fiddling - though their right knee was bouncing slightly, something Andreas might or might not notice, depending on if he was looking at them from the right angle." }, { "author": "Andreas Featherfall", "message": "Andreas would tip his cup a bit as he'd been lost in thought. Not noticing that Jones had been staring at him during his time he was spacing. When he had snapped out of it he would quickly touch the ring on his left hand. Making sure it was there, even though someone couldn't just steal the ring off his finger just because he had spaced out. \n\nLooking at Jones as they cleared their throat, had they been talking to him before and he hadn't noticed? It didn't seem so but he didn't know. Though it seemed their were now. He couldn't though help it but like how soft and low sounding their voice was. It just something he seemed to admire? Was he admiring that part of them? Well he did find their features something he what enjoyed? Admired? He didn't really know what it was. \"Not really, my... Plans were kind of small today. I suppose it's why I did what I did last night.\" He'd shrug before taking another sip of his coffee. Maybe he would get some wine later.\n\n\"I'm sure you have some work or some type of business after this?\" He noticed their knee bouncing, were they nervous or was it something else? Best not to ask about it and make them feel like he was prying too much in their life. \"I'm actually kind of looking for a new work place? Just been working for different people and places for a while I guess. Kind of traveling around to find good fit for me, just haven't found it yet.\"" }, { "author": "Doctor Jones", "message": "It seemed the drink was already running out. How very unfortunate, the Doctor had been enjoying it - as much as they were capable of enjoying anything like that. It was a good excuse to start leaving, they supposed. They did still have things to do, after all. So then why were they so reluctant to depart?\n\n\"I suppose that makes sense.\" For someone who was so out of it yesterday, Andreas was surprisingly... Responsible, it seemed. Was he only doing those drugs on days that he didn't have much planned the next day? That was strangely admirable. They sure as hell couldn't claim to do the same thing - the Doctor had planned to get high out of their mind last night, and probably would have, were it not for the sudden appearance of someone that needed help. It had been convenient, and they were grateful for it, but it was a strange thing to thank someone for, so they decided to refrain for now.\n\nA sigh escaped them as the Doctor drank the final bit of their milk and set the cup down, seemingly not noticing that a drop had escaped the corner of their mouth and was slowly running down their chin. \"I do, yeah. Important business... I'm not really supposed to talk about it.\" They resisted the urge to lay their head on the table and go to sleep again, aware that they should get going. \"I can't really help you with looking for work, but... Good luck. I hope you find something soon.\" Hopefully it'd be something around here... Wait, why were they hoping that? They were probably just tired, and their mind was thinking weird things, that had to be it." }, { "author": "Andreas Featherfall", "message": "Andreas thought about offering another drink to them since it seemed they were almost out. Though he didn't think it was probably the best thing to ask either if they wanted to let leave. Though he really didn't want them to leave. It was strange that he was feeling this way. But he was just going to let it go.\n\nLooking at his own drink he thought about how some blood might have made it taste better but something he would have to have later. \"No reason to inconvenience others because I decided to get high. But I suppose I don't exactly want to burden others with my problems.\" Andreas still didn't like he had inconvenienced them but he couldn't change something that had already happened. Maybe he will have to be more careful with where he goes so it doesn't happen again. That or staying at his place would be a better choice even though he hated doing so.\n\nHe'd raise a brow at them sighing with the last of their drink. It seemed maybe they didn't want to go? Though probably because they didn't want to go to their work. \"Well I'm not planning on dragging it out of you if you aren't supposed to say. No need to help with me looking for work. I done plenty of odd work just haven't found that one thing that fits is all.\" Mostly because he never stayed in a place longer than 15-20 years. He knew it was enough time to notice if he wasn't aging. Plus no place so far gave him a reason to stay, maybe this time could be different but he kind of doubted it. He hadn't really been looking for a reason to stay in any since he'd sworn off relationships of any kind once he came to his senses. But maybe that could start to change? He didn't know why he was thinking that. Andreas would notice the drop that seemed to escape the cup, he didn't know why but he couldn't help himself but to lean over the table and gently wipe the drop away from their face before sitting back in his chair.\n\n\"Uh... Sorry you had a drop that got away. If you need to go I understand but if you like another you can have one. It's on me so you don't need to worry about paying.\" Why was he trying to makw them stay again? This was just silly. He really didn't understand his own mind at the moment." }, { "author": "Doctor Jones", "message": "Was it their imagination or was Andreas equally as hesitant to let them go? No, that couldn't be it, right? So far, the Doctor hadn't really offered anything worthwhile to the interaction. Most of what they'd done was being held close by him, and they doubted it was as pleasant for him as it was for them. Perhaps they were just misreading what he was thinking, that seemed pretty likely - wouldn't be the first time they'd done that.\n\n\"...I get that,\" They said softly, tracing a finger over the edge of their cup. \"I don't like to burden others either.\" Even if rationally, they knew that was the only way for things to get better, it was so difficult to trust in others. To tell someone about everything... There was only one time that had happened, and that was a time the Doctor had been high out of their mind, so they barely remembered it at all.\n\nLost in thought, they didn't realize that Andreas had leaned over until he was already touching them, his hand as gentle as always. The Doctor didn't know what reaction to give - they didn't want to pull away, and leaning into the touch was inappropriate - so they just froze up again, letting him do as he pleased. Slowly, their eyes drifted up to look at his face, looking for any sign of that disgust or discomfort that usually came when people touched them, but he didn't look like that. Why didn't he? Why was he so... Different?\n\n\"I see,\" They replied, voice barely audible, still more than a little taken aback. The Doctor was quiet for a few more moments to allow their mind to process everything, taking a few deep breaths before speaking up again. \"I... I really have to get going,\" They replied reluctantly, and got to their feet, slowly and carefully to not risk blacking out. \"My patients need me.\" And the experiments, and everything else... But he didn't have to know about all of that.\n_ _\n\nThey cleared their throat again, gaze averted. \"I... Thank you for everything, I suppose,\" They said awkwardly, hands stuffed into the pockets of their cardigan to stop themself from fiddling. \"And... Goodbye, Andreas.\" If he didn't stop them, the Doctor would start turning away to leave, no matter how much they didn't want to." }, { "author": "Andreas Featherfall", "message": "Andreas didnt know what to do, he wanted to reach out again and stop them. But he also knew that he couldn't keep them from their work. No, that would he selfish of him which he couldn't do. Not today at least. He'd been selfish enough by making them stay this long.\n\n\"I hope your work goes well for you. It's been fun, uh getting to visit. I hope you didn't mind it.\" Andreas would rub the back of his neck as he looked at them getting up. He thought about getting up quickly and helping but stopped himself. He knew it was best to let them leave.\n\nGiving a small warm smile he's look at them a last time. \"It was only right I treated you to a drink.\" He'd say the next part softly so as not to be heard. Knowing it was timw they did part. \"Goodbye little elf, I do hope your work doesn't treat you badly.\"" }, { "author": "Doctor Jones", "message": "The Doctor shook their head, remaining quiet for a few moments before giving the tiniest of smiles. \"I didn't mind it,\" They said softly. Part of them wanted to go and maybe hug him goodbye, but... No, not now, if only because that'd tempt them to stay longer. They really had to go.\n\nInstead, they raised a hand in a wave goodbye, then continued their way out of here. At that last comment of Andreas', their eyelid twitched lightly, but they pretended not to hear it. Little. That was something they didn't like to be reminded of. Best ignore it for now, though.\n\nAnd so, the Doctor exited the building, starting to head back to the estate, feeling surprisingly fine despite how they'd felt when they left it last night. Maybe... Maybe they should seek him out when they felt bad, instead of choosing their other coping mechanisms. Something to consider next time. For now, they had patients to see." }, { "author": "Andreas Featherfall", "message": "Andreas would have left soon after feeling refreshed and more at ease? Least this it's how he felt which was a bit of a change but a good one really. He couldn't help but have a bit of a smile as he would head out to look for a job around the Lazaroth. \n\nThe week would go back quickly it seemed as he looked for work. He couldng help but at times think about his encounters with the strange doctor. He didn't mind them, he actually found them to be interesting and kind if wanted to learn more about them yet he didn't know if he would he able to without seeming like he was stalking them and he didn't want to do that.\n\nSo, as the week passed he would keep to himself besides looking for work. Though at nights he would go flying to clear his head for a while. Though on the night of a week past he would feel more of walking than flying. Taking a stroll through the woods as he did try to see if he remembered the night he had been so high. It still wasn't clear to him. He'd been keeping off anything strong during the week and just used the Reverie Sticks when he needed which was for less this week. It felt strange not having to using constantly but in a good sense. Maybe he should take a night to go out to find a new blood wine? He always did enjoy the more spiced flavor of one but never hurt to try new ones. Though he'd had some fresh blood wine before coming out to the woods so he didn't need to worry about such things for a while." }, { "author": "Doctor Jones", "message": "It... Hadn't been a great day, to put it mildly. Not the worst one the Doctor had experienced, not by far, but it was far from good. Exhausting, to put it mildly, with a range of bothersome patients, and then... They didn't even want to think about it. They'd been trying to stop thinking about it all day. Ever since the events of morning, they'd been hit with this supremely awful sensation, one that didn't go away throughout the day.\n\nSure, when they were busy, when there were others around, they could keep it at bay, distract themself through their job, but now that they were alone, now that the rest of the world was asleep... It wasn't so easy anymore. They wanted to do something to help ease the feeling, something so shameful they'd never discussed it with anyone, but their mind rationally knew how awful the idea was - if only because with all the experimenting lately, they really couldn't afford the blood loss.\n\nSo, another option had appeared into their mind. Perhaps it was a reach. Perhaps it was far-fetched. It likely wouldn't happen. But they had to try. It was a last-ditch effort to try and resist that irresistible urge.\n\nThe Doctor was sitting cross-legged on that same spot in the woods as last time, hunched over. They were waiting quietly, though as time passed, they started to get more and more uncertain about what they were waiting for. Maybe it'd be better to leave. Or... There was a flash of steel in their left hand as they held on to their scalpel, absently toying with it. Maybe...\n\nThey had their right sleeve pulled up, revealing a complicated roadmap of faded scars, straight lines criss-crossing each other and wrapping all around the limb - though none of them looked particularly recent. They held the sharp edge of the scalpel lightly pressed against one of the few empty spots that remained, barely breathing, hearing their heart beat in their ears. Were they really about to do this again? After not having done so for so long?\n_ _\n\nThe Doctor inhaled a deep breath and pulled the scalpel away, averting their gaze. Maybe... Not now. But what did it matter if they waited? They were going to do it anyway. Best get it over with already, no? Once more, they lowered the blade, expression unreadable, inhaling a trembling breath. A drop of blood rolled down their arm and landed on their pants, but they didn't even notice - right now, the Doctor barely noticed anything going on around them, mind too focused on the scene right in front of their eyes." }, { "author": "Andreas Featherfall", "message": "Andreas didn't know why he was still wondering around the woods so much. Was he looking for something in particular? He didn't need blood so he wasn't hunting for prey. Even if he was he only went after animals that were not going to make it, a bit strange to go after more sickly animals or dying ones but if he could save one he had. Animal blood was also not the same so he didn't hunt unless he had no vital source close. He didn't think there was going to be anyone around so he'd let his eyes shine red, a way that usually made smaller animals stay out of his path since they gave off a more menacing feeling. \n\nThough he'd been walking for a while he wondered if he should just head back. He should probably sleep a few hours before going looking for a work again. Hands in his pockets he was about ready to head back though just as he was about to he'd stop in his tracks as the scent of blood flowed with the cool night breeze. Was something hurt? He hadn't heard the cry of an animal wounded so that couldn't have been it, same for a person. His eyes narrowed he'd look around a bit, maybe it was nothing but something told him it wasn't nothing.\n\nDeciding not to let it go he'd spread his wings wide before letting them come down quickly as he'd shoot off the ground and into the night sky. He knew which way the breeze was come from so he needed to head that way first. The scent of blood was very faint so it wasn't close to him but he still knew something was hurt. Letting his sharp vision scower the woods from above as he would slowly get closer to the scent. It wasn't an animal scent, he could tell as much and there still wasn't a lot of scent of blood so he knew they weren't gravely injured. As he would see someone sitting on the ground he would decide to land a little from them.\n\n-\n\nBeing quiet sometimes made it better to not startle someone when they seemed out of it or maybe more wanting to self harm? Walking slowly he would finally get to see clearly who it was. The doctor? What were they doing here and with the scent of blood too. They couldn't afford to be losing blood if it was theirs and he guessed it probably was. He could see now that their right arm was covered in scars, straight lines that made a map of past injuries. The reflection of steel shinning in the night. He knew than what was happening, taking slow and calculated steps he could see they were not noticing what was happening around them. \n\nThough he didn't want to startle them he also needed to act quickly, the scent of blood even though he had a fill before coming to the woods still made his fangs throb slightly at wanting to taste their blood. He waited till he was close enough before he would move with his vampire speed, being gentle though quick he would grab the Docs left wrist and move it away from their skin with his left hand as his right hand would cover the small cut with a handkerchief. Leaning down to be close to Jones to cover the wound, he'd have to take a few breaths to control himself as his eyes stayed red for the moment before he made them go back to normal. His face showing concern for them, there was no judges in his gaze as he looked down at them. \"Please... Don't do that to yourself tonight.\" Andreas voice held a his concern for them but also a pain, one that hinted maybe he knew the same pain and a reason for doing such an act." }, { "author": "Doctor Jones", "message": "There was the momentary urge to struggle. To protest against what was being done, to try to cause more harm, because this small cut... It wasn't enough, the Doctor knew that much. But they didn't do that - though they didn't entirely go along with the situation either.\n\nTheir left arm being grabbed, they didn't care about, but their right... The moment the other placed the handkerchief over it, the Doctor yanked their arm free, grabbing on to their sleeve with their teeth to pull it over the scars, to cover everything up again. Their expression was one of shame, their body language portrayed nothing but the same guilty feeling - it was hard to miss how much they didn't want someone to see them like this.\n\nIgnoring the rapidly spreading bloodstain in their cardigan's sleeve, they tucked their right arm behind their back, continuing to stare down at the ground, refusing to make eye contact with whoever had showed up. Surprisingly, what they were feeling was not a sense of relief - no, it was annoyance. It was fine that he'd showed up, but why not a few moments later? This injury barely counted as a wound at all. It wasn't good enough. It should be worse, like this... It didn't count.\n\nBut they didn't try to wrestle their left arm free, letting the person hold on to it - though they weren't letting go of their scalpel either, continuing to hold it tightly. The Doctor said nothing, but they were starting to get pulled back to reality a little, the sensations of the surrounding area becoming clearer the more moments passed. Still, they stubbornly looked down, gaze captured by the drops of blood on their pants as they tried to figure out what to say. What would even be appropriate? They couldn't think of a thing, not after being seen doing something like this. Indeed, staying silent seemed like the best option for now." }, { "author": "Andreas Featherfall", "message": "Andreas knew all to well the feeling of needing to feel the pain to cause some type of injury. It wasn't new to him and it didn't seem it was new to the doctor either. He probably should have not gone about how he did but he knew he needed the blood to stop. He was a bit annoyed at them ripping their arm away to cover it without stopping the blood than hiding their arm behind their back. But he could deal with that in a moment. No, his first priority was the scalpel they seemed to grip tighter, he didn't want to harm them but at the moment he didn't trust them with the scalpel enough not to try and make the cut deeper. So, being gentle but stern he would apply enough pressure to a pressure point to their left wrist to make them drop the scalpel, he had also wrapped his hand against the blade to be able to take it away.\n\nOnce he had the blade free from their grip he would throw it into a tree, no way they would get it out of the tree themselves. Next was the wound, being still gentle but firm he would force their right arm forward as he pulled back their cardigan's sleeve. He would use his speed to keep hold of them before using the handkerchief to tie their wound. He needed the blood to stop before he did something he might regret. They probably would hate him a bit after this but it was better for them to hate him some than to bite them and cause worse harm. \n\nOnce he felt that the danger was gone he would cover their arm with the cardigan sleeve again and let them do as they wished. But at the moment Andreas would be kneeling down in front of them. He'd reach out for them and gentle grab their chin, making them look up at him even though he was sure they didn't want to. They could see he seemed a bit disheveled, there were a struggle in his eyes on trying to figure out what to say but something else as well but what they couldn't place.\n-\n\nHe'd sigh a bit as he really never stopped someone like this before and he really didn't know why but when he would speak there was a rough edge to his voice. \"Don't... Don't try doing more of that tonight. I understand the want but not tonight... For tonight... Anything but that. You can hate me, and get mad at me all you want but I'm not letting you do that tonight. There is no shame in letting yourself feel that way, and I'm not ashamed or appalled by it... They show your story and pain, but only a part of it. We all have part of us that are broken and... Well they are hard to fix but I'm not letting you do that tonight to fix it. You hear me? Tonight you're stuck with me no matter if you like it or not. So, instead of doing that, do whatever to me that will help okay? I'm not leaving you, I'm not appalled, or distrusted, or whatever is going through that head of yours on what you think I should be thinking of you.\" \n\nAndreas would give a small smile to them to show he meant what he said. \"What I'm thinking... I'm thinking how am I going to keep controlling myself around this elf... Because no matter what I'm trying to do I want to learn more about them and... Maybe be a bit cocky round them to make them just a little flustered because maybe I should just admit I really liked holding them and want to do it again even if they might not feel the same.\"" }, { "author": "Doctor Jones", "message": "It wasn't fair. The Doctor let out a muffled groan as they were forced to drop the scalpel, one more of frustration than anything. Why would he do that? It was Theirs. He had no right to take it like that, and he really had no right to treat it so disrespectfully by throwing it like that. They reached a hand out to the blade as it was thrown, powerlessly watching it hit that tree. So unfair. Couldn't he just have pocketed it? At least then there was no risk of it being damaged...\n\nIt only got worse when he grabbed their right arm. The Doctor tried to pull it free, but it was futile. They Hated Being touched there by anyone else, and they especially hated it when that person then went on to Look At that area.\n\nTears blinked in their eyes, but no matter how much they tried to pry his fingers off or pull their arm free, it was futile. Why did he care so much about that injury? It barely counted as one. \"Let Go Of me,\" The Doctor hissed, trying their hardest to hold back their tears. Their discomfort was impossible to miss. If he saw, he no doubt cast his judgement, and they couldn't deal with that. That way people looked upon them when they found out... It was Awful. Why couldn't he just let them be?\n\nAt least he had the decency to let them go. The Doctor quickly cradled their arm against their chest, blinking rapidly to try and stop their tears from falling. Their breathing was rapid, uneven, like they were panicked, and they frankly would have run away if it weren't for the Aasimar grabbing their chin and making them look at him, vision slightly blurred through their teary eyes.\n_ _\n\nThe Doctor flinched at the rough edge to his voice and once more looked away, hugging their right arm a little more tightly as they pulled up their legs to hide it even more and make themself smaller. Why was he Like That? Part of them wanted to scream at him. Part of them wanted to run away. But there was only one thing the Doctor could do. A sient tear rolled down their cheek, and another, and another, leaving behind streaks that quickly turned cold in the night's air.\n\n\"S-shut up,\" They managed in a soft whimper, but made no attempt to break free from his touch. \"You don't... Just give me back my scalpel already. It'd better not be damaged.\" Their gaze darted to the blade in the tree to avoid looking at Andreas. \"You don't know anything about me.\" Silent tears kept flowing - just how often had they hid their tears like this to be so good at crying so silently? \"...Leave me alone already. It's better for you.\" A blatant and obvious attempt to push him away in a moment of pure pain. Hopefully... He wouldn't listen." }, { "author": "Andreas Featherfall", "message": "Andreas would sigh as he could see the pain they were trying to hold back, the way it seemed they thought he would think badly of them just because they had some such a thing to themselves in the past and even now. He knew they were hurting and if they did decide to yell at him they could. He didn't mind being the one taking the tongue lash if it helped. He watched them, saw the discomfort and knew they thought he would judge. But that wasn't what he was going to do, no instead he would be gentle as his hand would wipe away their silent tears. He knew all to well the want to hide the shame of something, to wish it away from all eyes.\n\nHis voice would soften as he looked at them while wiping away their tears. \"I used to cut myself as well, not on the arm though. I know what you are feeling and I am not disgusted or appalled by your scars. I'm sorry I acted... Roughly it's... Hard to explain why without... Revealing something\" Andreas didn't think now was any time to reveal his other side, no it was unwise to do that.\n\nInstead of listening to their demands he would do the complete opposite. No, he would not let them get the chance to protest before he would pull them into his arms and onto his lap. Letting one wing act as a blanket to wrap around them a bit and a shield from any eyes seeing them showing weaknesses. He knew they didn't really want to be alone when they were in this pain, he'd been in such a place before but hadn't had someone to grab onto.\n\nHe knew that even if they protested and tried keeping to push him away he wasn't going to budge on this. They needed someone at the moment and he would pay for a new scalpel later if he needed to, but it needed to be far away from their reach. Whatever they chose to do he would except it as long as they wouldn't harm themselves.\n-\n\n\"It's okay to hate me, you can yell and scream or do whatever you want to me but you won't get rid of me tonight. If you so wish later you don't ever have to see me again, but not tonight you won't get rid of me. Try all you want you know you can't get rid of me tonight. There is no shame in feeling pure pain. You and I... I think we both got some broken pieces and right now... Need someone for a while to not judge and just be there.\"" }, { "author": "Doctor Jones", "message": "There were, of course, plenty of ways in which they could cause themself harm, ways that Andreas couldn't do anything about. That magic they used to heal, it could very easily be used to cause harm, and what was he going to do about that? But if that was the case... Why didn't they? Why wouldn't they do it? What was stopping them? Was it because it it didn't feel right without the cold metal of the scalpel in their hand? Or was it something else? Either way... It made no sense.\n\nAt Andreas' confession, the Doctor looked up at him, eyes widened as their heart jumped in their chest. He did? Their hand curled around their right arm once more, feeling the familiar outlines of those scars beneath their fingers. Remaining quiet, the Doctor averted their gaze, trying to think on what to say. \"I just... Don't like being touched there,\" They whispered, eyes squeezing shut. \"...I really don't.\" Though could they blame him for acting the way he did? Out of all the reactions they got from people finding out, this was by far one of the better ones... They should be thankful, really.\n\nEyes reopened at the sudden feeling of them being pulled closer, onto his lap. The Doctor couldn't help but let a startled gasp escape them, almost instinctively trying to get away for a moment, hands pushing back against Andreas' chest, but he was so much stronger that it was almost laughable. And soon enough, they were on top of him again, those strong arms wrapped around their tiny body. After a few moments, the Doctor relented and rested the side of their head against his chest, listening to that strong heartbeat of his. They sniffled softly, trying their hardest not to cry much more - all of this was so embarrassing.\n_ _\n\nThat urge was one that became impossible to resist as Andreas kept talking. In the recent years, no one had seen them like that. Seen the pain they hid inside. The tears kept flowing as the Doctor covered their mouth with their left hand, a sob escaping them that wasn't audible but he could most certainly feel it. And then another. And another. No matter how much they tried to stop it, they couldn't, and those feelings that were hidden deep inside were pushed out forcibly. With their right hand, the Doctor grabbed a hold of Andreas' shirt, clutching the fabric tightly as if needing something to hold on to, their face remaining buried in his chest to hide it." }, { "author": "Andreas Featherfall", "message": "Andreas didn't know at first if it was going to help. He didn't know if his words would even reach them with them being in such a vulnerable state. Though it seemed a little worked as the doctor looked at him with widened eyes and a jump in their heartbeat. He would in the future try not to touch them there but there would be no such promise if he caught them doing that again. \"I will try to avoid touching you there but I can't promise that to be the case always.\" \n\nHe let them try to struggle he knew it was just because they thought didn't probably want to show any weakness to another. A reason why he let one wing shield them from the rest of the world. Maybe this wouldn't help and his words would mean nothing but least they seemed to relent and rest. He knew he was a bit scared, a doctor like them could no doubt find another way to hurt themselves if wanted. This was why he was being so stubborn. He hoped just maybe they would understand... That someone else got it? That they didn't have to be alone this time around? Though maybe he was just prolonging the inevitable.\n\nAndreas looked down as he felt their quiet sobs, he wouldn't say anything as what could he say? No, at first all he would do is let his body react to holding them closer. He knew they needed no words spoken. He couldn't see them as he make his wings simply shield them from the world. For them it was just a little safe bubble now as he held them close, his right arm gently rubbing their back as he let them cry their pain they had been holding back. \n\nHe didn't dare move for fear that they would react badly and shut their pain down again. How many times has he done such a thing? He would probably lose count if he really tried to know. He wasn't going to ask about their pain but if they wanted to share at all he would listen, if not well he would simply hold them. There was just some things everyone needed at some point, it could be denied and pushed down but they all needed those moments." }, { "author": "Doctor Jones", "message": "Several quiet minutes passed, and the Doctor did start calming down over time, albeit very slowly. Normally, they'd be embarrassed over such an open display of emotions - well, actually, they still were. For someone who was usually so apathetic towards everything to have such a breakdown... They weren't going to live this one down, were they? What must Andreas be thinking right now? It couldn't be anything close to positive, could it?\n\nStill... They didn't make another attempt to pull away. The Doctor continued to hold on to him, clutching his shirt, as if doing so was the only thing preventing them from falling apart. They'd probably have to replace it at this rate, or at least help wash it, but for now, it was difficult to worry about that. For now, all they wanted to do was be held close by him, and luckily, Andreas seemed more than happy to provide that comfort.\n\nEventually, the Doctor started moving again, letting go of his shirt to wipe the tears off their face with their sleeve, though they still kept their head down. They knew they looked like a mess right now, and they sure as hell didn't want him seeing that, to make him think even worse of them than he no doubt already did. They didn't want to see his face either, fearing the look on it, fearing a bad response. No, for now, it was best to just stay like this, where they could pretend that everything was okay... Well, as okay as it could be. At least they felt safe like this. Safe, warm, and comforted." }, { "author": "Andreas Featherfall", "message": "Andreas let them cry and hold onto his shirt. He didn't care about the shirt if it was soaked in tear or not. He could easily replace it later. He was just happy to feel they were starting to calm down, his own worry for them fading as he held them close. The seemed to feel comfortable which is what he wanted most. Though sitting on his knees like this wasn't the most comfortable but it wasn't bad.\n\nFeeling them moving he would let his wing move back enough to see them. He knew they probably felt a bit embarrassed and it was understandable. But he didn't plan on seeing them in a bad light just because of this. No, he just felt closer to them actually which was a bit strange... Maybe he was moving too fast in his mind? To hell with it if he was, they still needed to feel safe and comforted and he wasn't going to do anything too drastic. He'd just move his right hand to their face as he would gently cup their left cheek, using his thumb to wipe away the tear stains. He'd keep his voice soft as he spoke to them. He wanted them to see he didn't judge them or feel any ill will to them for the breakdown. \"Are you feeling a bit better now? You don't have to move till your ready.\" \n\nAndreas would look back out to the woods as he guessed they didn't want him to see them in such a state really. He had just wanted to make sure they were okay for the moment. He had thought about doing more than just cupping their cheek but he didn't want to make them push away so it was probably more than they wanted to handle in the moment anyways." }, { "author": "Doctor Jones", "message": "It was so very tempting to resist. To push closer and make sure that Andreas couldn't see their tear-stained face. The Doctor knew they looked bad on the best of days, with their unhealthy appearance, and this day was especially awful - there was no way they should let him see them. But they didn't resist, they didn't struggle. After all, if this... Whatever it was were to continue, he would need to see all of them, including the ugly parts, of which there were a lot.\n\nSo, they let him take their cheek, looking up at Andreas, a soft sniffle escaping them. They hesitated, then slowly raised their right hand and placed it upon his, not entirely sure what they were doing but aware that this felt right. They couldn't help but wonder, did he mind how cold their hand was against his? How thin their fingers felt? Or was he not the type to care about that? If he minded... Could he learn to be okay with it?\n\nThey gave the slightest of nods at the question, averting their gaze and looking down at the ground. \"...Sorry for causing you trouble,\" The Doctor said, lowering their hands again to cover the blood on their right sleeve with their left hand. Discomfort was very evident in their body language, this entire topic was clearly not something they were comfortable sharing with anyone, let alone someone that was still very much mostly a stranger." }, { "author": "Andreas Featherfall", "message": "Andreas didn't pry, he didn't force them to do anything they didn't want to do. He just wanted them to feel safe and not whatever was going through their mind when they thought about cutting themselves. He would rub their cheek, not caring their hand was cold or how thin their fingers were. Sure, he was concerned by how frail they looked but he also didn't know enough of their story for why they were like that. Maybe he would learn it eventually but he wasn't going to force any of it out till they wanted to share it.\n\nFor him really their thin hands he found more as delicate, the hands of a doctor he thought. Though he'd seen doctors with less thin fingers before. He didn't mind just letting them take what little warmth he had, he wasn't cold but definitely not as warm as someone who wasn't a vampire. He wouldn't even know how to bring that up but if this was to turn into something more he couldn't hide it. It was a worry he didn't want to face but someday he'd have to.\n\nHe'd look down at them and push back a loose strand of their white hair being their ear, he didn't find this to be any trouble. \"You didn't cause me any trouble, you simply needed someone and I'm more than happy to.\" Andreas looked down at their sleeve, he knew that would probably leave a stain but it was best not to address it. Instead he'd move his hand lightly across their cheek till he could lift their chin to make them look at him. \"Are you scared of heights?\"" }, { "author": "Doctor Jones", "message": "It really was appreciated how little Andreas seemed to want to pry - or if he wanted to, he at least wasn't doing it. He probably had plenty of questions, who wouldn't, but he had the decency to not ask them, not right now. At this moment in time, the Doctor felt unable to answer anything substantial anyway, so it probably would only harm the situation. Maybe later, when they were feeling a little better.\n\nCurrently, all they wanted was to hold and be held close by Andreas. The Doctor wanted to curl up against him again, maybe hug him back, but it seemed that he had other plans. They let him do as he pleased, reluctantly looking him in the eyes when he lifted their chin, resisting the urge to look away. That was... An odd question.\n\n\"I... Don't think so,\" They replied hesitantly, becoming more and more aware of just how close the two of them were. They'd met Andreas what, two weeks ago? And that was a meeting they didn't even remember. And now they were sitting on his lap, his hand under their chin, more close to him than they'd been to anyone except maybe their parents when they were still a child. It was... Nice, and they kind of wished it would never end, even if they knew it probably would one day." }, { "author": "Andreas Featherfall", "message": "Andreas couldn't still help it but like being close like this. It felt just kind if right? He didn't know why and maybe he just felt a desire to be with someone bit it wasn't something to rush especially when he'd not be close to someone in a very long time. Didn't mean he still didn't feel this was nice. But at the moment he wanted to give them something new. A thrill maybe that they wouldn't otherwise get? He didn't know why he was thinking of this now but maybe this would be a good thing?\n\nAndreas would smile at their reply, he could work with that. It's better than a no, it just meant he couldn't go all the way up like he usually would. No, probably not for a first time, best to play it safe. He knew they were confused by his question but that was okay. He wanted it to be a bit of a surprise? Why he wanted to do that he didn't know. \"Can you do something for me, I promise this won't be something to harm you but could you close your eyes and hold onto my neck? If you don't wish to do that it's okay. But I ask that you trust me a little?\"\n\nHe was trying to think of a good way to let this work but he didn't know if he was going about it the right way or not. He just look at them as he would try to see if they would trust him enough. He knew they had no reason to trust him like this but maybe they would just this once?" }, { "author": "Doctor Jones", "message": "There was no knowing for certain what Andreas had planned, but tonight, the Doctor really didn't care all that much. Anything was better than this awful feeling remaining in their chest, making them feel like their heart was being squeezed tightly when they weren't distracted by something else. There was only one way they knew of getting rid of that feeling, and he was not letting them do that.\n\nActually, speaking of... Their gaze drifted over to the blade still stuck in the tree, and the Doctor looked up at Andreas, before turning their attention back to it. \"Can you... Take out my scalpel, at least?\" They asked softly, and then added, to hopefully increase their odds of him actually agreeing; \"You can keep it on you for now if you don't trust me with it, it's just...\" A soft sigh. \"It's custom made, and artisans who are this skilled at making something like it are impossible to find.\" The reason it was custom made was quite simple - the Doctor was lefthanded, and just about every tool was made for righthanded people. They had to get a lot of things made just for them, and it was an incredible pain, not to mention insanely expensive to do so.\n\n\"I'll agree to what you want me to do if you do that... Okay?\" They hesitated, then sat up a little straighter and to demonstrate that they were serious about it, carefully wrapped their arms around his neck, gaze kept down low. Only if Andreas obeyed their request would they close their eyes, but if he didn't, they would keep them open, even if they couldn't get themself to maintain eye contact right now." }, { "author": "Andreas Featherfall", "message": "Andreas had planned to take the scalpel out anyways so it wasn't like it was beyond what he'd already been planning. He'd wrap his left under their legs before he would get up. Walking over to the tree before he would pull the scalpel out, it wasn't damaged but probably need a little sharpening later. He'd pocket it before starting to walk toward an open area of the forest.\n\nHe hoped this would help, if not well he would just have to spend the night with them till he knew they would be safe he guessed. He didn't mind if they weren't up to looking at him, he knew they still felt like he would judge them when he wouldn't do such a thing.\n\nThe night air would probably be a bit cold but as long as he paid attention they should be fine with a short flight? Just would have to make sure they didn't start to get too cold and if it seemed like they were he would just head to the inn so they could warm up. It seemed like a good enough plan." }, { "author": "Doctor Jones", "message": "The Doctor was very much surprised when they were scooped up like that, wrapping their arms around his neck a little more tightly, where they'd previously been holding him kind of hesitantly. Maybe it shouldn't have been a surprise - after all, it was the only thing they should have expected would happen. Still, it took them aback a little, though they quickly got used to it.\n\nThey would have preferred it if Andreas handed the scalpel to them instead, but they supposed that it was understandable he didn't trust them with it right now. No matter how much they insisted that they weren't planning anything... Even they couldn't be certain of that. There was always a risk, was there not?\n\nA soft sigh escaped them, and the Doctor decided to just try to ignore that for now and close their eyes as instructed, heart racing in their chest. Already only having access to two fewer senses than most people, this got rid of a third, making it very easy for them to focus on just about everything going on around them. Every sensation and every sound was clear as day, even if their mind was mostly preoccupied with the ones of just how Close The two of them were. ...What could Andreas possibly have planned?" }, { "author": "Andreas Featherfall", "message": "Andreas would take him time walking to a clearing. He would usually have not cared to find one when taking off himself but with having them along it was best not to go through the limbs of trees and risk getting them hurt. As he would make it closer to the clearing he would look up at the clear night sky. He was really going to do this? He knew he wouldn't drop them but it still didn't make this any more of a terrifying idea.\n\nHe could hear their heart racing and knew they probably were a bit on edge with not knowing what was coming next. Though he kept calm as he made it to the center. Changing his hold a bit to make sure they would stay safe in his arms before letting his wings stretch out, he wanted to just dart up into the night sky and let the ground vanish in a second but that want a good idea with someone. He felt a bit of a pang of guilt and loss as he hadn't been up with someone since well the family he lost so long ago. Sure he had a sister and nephews and nieces still alive but he wasn't allowed to see them. Someday it was painful knowing everything he'd lost but now wasn't the time as he'd shake his head to clear his thoughts.\n\nLooking down at his new passenger as he gave a small smile, his wings fully out before he would let them take him up into the sky. It was still a rush as they cut through the air but not as fast as he could have went. Once he felt he was at a good height above the forest and into the clear sky he'd tap their back gently with a finger. \"You can open your eyes now, Doc.\" Andreas would just be hovering in the sky with them, he wanted to let them get used to being up in the air before he would actually fly around." }, { "author": "Doctor Jones", "message": "The Doctor should have been scared, being carried around like this, they knew that, but for some strange reason, they weren't. Was it because they didn't care what happened to them right now? Or because they trusted Andreas for some inexplicable reason? They had no way to know for sure. Did it matter? There was something so comforting about being carried like this... Hopefully he'd never let them go.\n\nAnd then, he stopped, but the Doctor did not yet open their eyes, though they were getting more nervous by the second. That noise... Was he opening his wings? Hey, wait a minute. Was he going to... No, it couldn't be, right? Would he? They didn't know if the thought excited or scared them, but either way, the Doctor squeezed him a little more tightly, determined to keep clutching on for dear life.\n\nSuddenly, they felt like their stomach dropped, wind wooshing by. That feeling was unmistakeable. They were being taken up into the air, but how high? The Doctor wished to open their eyes but kept them closed, unsure if opening their eyes mid ascent would cause any damage. Probably not, yet it wasn't worth the risk, was it?\n\nOnly once Andreas instructed them to do so did they open one eye, then the other. Slowly, the Doctor pulled away ever so slightly so that they could look around a little, eyes widening at everything. They didn't know where to look. The starry sky above was gorgeous, but the nighttime forest below was just as breathtaking. Though they said nothing, the way they were looking around more than betrayed their excitement with everything, eyes wide and with a rare excited sparkle to them." }, { "author": "Andreas Featherfall", "message": "He'd make sure to keep a close hold of them, they were safe enough to move around a bit to take in the new view around them. He wouldn't say anything as he let them just take it all in. He'd felt the fear go through them as he'd taken to the sky, but he's held them close so they wouldn't feel as if they would fall. No, he wouldn't let that happen.\n\nHovering in the air was easy enough his wings flapping in shorter intervals to keep them pretty close in the same area. Only moving but a little so as to let the doctor get used to being up this high. He was but maybe a tree length from the tops of the trees but it was high enough to allow them to look at everything around. He couldn't help but chuckle at their excitement. It was something that would be almost impossible for the doctor to experience and Andreas knew even he missed this feeling when his wings were useless. It had been something he missed dearly during the first decade or so once he'd turned back to the right path.\n\n\"You can look around all you want, you won't fall. Just make sure to still hold onto my shoulders at least so you feel grounded to something. First times are always a bit of a wonder yet terrifying when you get to see the world like this. It's like nothing else out there.\" Though Andreas spoke fondly of the memories there was a hint of sadness mixed in his voice. It been close to a century since he'd actually flown with someone else, though this time was different since he was having to hold the person he was with. But it felt nice and felt good knowing he could keep his fly partner safe." }, { "author": "Doctor Jones", "message": "The Doctor continued to look around, taking in the area. Sure, they'd seen many of these places from the ground, but there was something so different about seeing it all from the sky. There was a certain sense of being removed from it all. Removed from all of their worries that resided down there. It was... Nice.\n\nStill, it didn't mean they were entirely comfortable. The Doctor's grip was a little more tight than it needed to be, and they were holding Andreas a little closer than necessary. This was the highest they'd ever been, after all, it made sense they were a little nervous. But, as time passes and they got more comfortable, more convinced that Andreas wouldn't let them fall, they loosened their grip slightly to get a better look at the world down below.\n\nAs he spoke up, they turned their head to look at him, once more very aware of just how close they were. Better not focus on that. \"It's... Nice,\" They said softly, and looked back down, seeming a lot calmer than when he found them just now. \"...Thank you for showing me this.\" Their voice was soft and they sounded rather awkward - clearly, the Doctor had no idea what they were supposed to say. Hopefully what they did say would be good enough, because they didn't have the words to properly express the complicated mess of feelings in their heart right now." }, { "author": "Andreas Featherfall", "message": "Andreas wouldn't mind that they would hold on tightly, he could understand the reasoning when being so far up and he gave them time to adjust. He wasn't in no rush to be flying around a lot and first times even as a aasimar was difficult. He could remember his first time and how it felt, though his father had been more throw you off a cliff and hope you learn before hitting the ground type.\n\nFor Andreas the sky was all he had left from his home, there wasn't much that connected him to his old life but past mistakes and a regretful tattoo but he was able to hide more of it so most didn't notice it unless close. He's be looking out at the sky as he let them just look around. He couldn't help but think a bit about his old home during nights like this.\n\nHe'd look down at them as he gave a small smile \"I'm glad you like it, it a lot to take in but worth it in the end. Up here... You can pretty much tell the world anything and no one will tell you differently. And you don't have to say anything, just if you want to here.\"" }, { "author": "Doctor Jones", "message": "Should they say something? Tell him about the reason why they were even out here tonight? Everything that had been happening this day, and before that? Was it even right to burden him with that, when he had already done so much? They didn't know the answer, but that wasn't entirely unusual. The Doctor rarely had the answers to anything... Maybe that was part of the reason why they were here right now, because of how lost they were. All alone in a strange country... Who could blame them for seeking out that old familiar feeling, that shred of comfort?\n\nA sigh escaped them as they rested their head against Andreas' chest. The Doctor wasn't looking at anything in particular, moreso blankly looking ahead, eyes focused on nothing at all. Their breathing was slow, their heartbeat as well, maybe slightly worryingly so, but that was normal for them, wasn't it? They found it difficult to remember a time when they hadn't been like that. So weak and fragile... It was frustrating sometimes, but the thought of getting better, of changing... It scared them.\n\n\"You already know it,\" The Doctor said softly, tracing their fingers over their right sleeve, following the familiar outlines of the scars that hid beneath, including the new addition. \"...My shameful secret, I mean.\" It'd be trivially easy to heal it, it'd barely take a second and with how desensitized to pain they were, they probably wouldn't even notice, and yet... They didn't. They never did, when it came to injuries like these. For whatever reason, they always let them scar. \"I know I probably don't have to ask you, but... Can you promise me that you won't tell anyone? I need to be certain that no one will find out.\"" }, { "author": "Andreas Featherfall", "message": "Andreas could tell they had a lot on their mind, what it was he didn't know and he didn't want to press them on it. He just let them go through their thoughts as he looked down at them. Once they rested against his chest again this time he couldn't help himself, he'd rub their head a bit in he hoped a comforting way. He still was making sure they felt safe while in the sky, that just was something he felt he still needed to do.\n\nHe knew they held a lot of past pain, no doubt a lot of secrets that held them back just like he did. But maybe he could be some comfort for them, he didn't know why he wanted to be that for them but he did. \"It's not a shameful secret, I'm sure I could top you on something being shameful. This, those scars it just is a show of the pain you have endured and made through even if you might not see it that way now. Don't worry I have no one to tell about any of this and it's not my place to tell. Least not unless you were putting yourself in danger, but those scars tell me it's not something that would put you in danger. But you have my word I won't tell anyone about this.\"\n\nAndreas was just glad his feeling of biting them was gone since there was no active bleeding that made him feel that way. He knew he'd been to close, yet he couldn't bring himself to tell them either and reveal something like that. Instead he'd think for a moment before deciding to show them somewhere really peaceful. \"I'm going to take you somewhere, if you don't mind flying. Don't worry I won't fly fast if you will allow me otherwise we can just stay here.\"" }, { "author": "Doctor Jones", "message": "Eyes fluttered shut momentarily at the gentle touch, and the Doctor took in a few deep breaths, some of the remaining tension seemingly fading from their body. Why was it so nice to be held by Andreas? Sure, they'd been held before, but something about this felt... Different. They couldn't put their finger on what it was, though - not like it mattered, they were happy to just enjoy the moment for what it was.\n\n\"I'd be a sorry excuse for a doctor if I didn't know how to do this without killing myself,\" The Doctor stated dryly in response, unable to stop themself. Was it a joke, or just regular sarcasm? With their signature blank-faced delivery, there was no way to know for sure. Still, they did seem to draw a little bit of comfort from Andreas' words, stopping their tracing of their scars and instead just holding their hand over the barely scabbed over injury. \"But... I suppose I should thank you for not telling anyone.\" They ignored the part on him apparently being able to confess to something even more shameful, but filed it away to ask about later.\n\nThe Doctor looked up at him and raised a curious eyebrow before deciding it wasn't that important. \"Sure, you can take me somewhere, I don't think I mind flying around.\" For whatever reason, they felt like they could trust him with not dropping them. Why that was, they had no idea. \"You can go fast if you'd like... I'll just hold on.\" They wrapped their arms around his shoulders again and nestled their face in the crook of his neck, breath tickling that area that was so very sensitive for most people. Did they notice? It was hard to tell." }, { "author": "Andreas Featherfall", "message": "Andreas was glad they seemed to relax finally to his touch, he was sure they kind of needed it for the night. He didn't know why he wanted to be this for them but something just kept seeming to draw them together. Maybe the Goddess had a plan for this? He didn't know what it could even be but he hoped it was good.\n\n\"I suppose you are right about that, don't need you cutting too deep. There is no reason to thank me, I just know how that is something you don't want getting out so easily.\" He couldn't help but smile at them agreeing to go with him. He still thought though it best not to go fast. Though them holding on and than nestling their face into his neck made his shiver a bit at the feeling. As long as they didn't take note too much for the small puncher scars he would let them be.\n\n\"If I go fast you won't enjoy the flying, even if you are holding onto me. I want you to enjoy this sincd it is your first time.\" Andreas would adjust his hold a bit to make sure they did stay safe before taking off in a slightly fast pace but not enough to were Jones couldn't look if they wanted to. Though mostly they would just be seeing the sky above and Andreas wings with the way they were held close. Though for Andreas he could see the trees moving below as they would start to turn into flat land and eventually to the lake. Going down into the forest in the middle as he headed for a small camp, his hideout. Taking them down slow before he'd land by the small camp. There was a fire pit, a tent made of leathers sewn together and some bags scattered around the area." }, { "author": "Doctor Jones", "message": "The Doctor kept quiet about those times they had cut too deep, had done things that would have caused serious damage if it weren't for their healing abilities. Usually, they were careful, but sometimes, sometimes they were just too stuck in that dark place in their mind to care - hell, sometimes they wanted to cause significant damage. Those times scared them most of all, when they regained themself.\n\nAndreas' scars went entirely unnoticed, and even if they were noticed, the Doctor wasn't going to question them, because minor scars like that really weren't such a big deal to them - nor was any scar, really. Considering their own, they could hardly judge, and they had seen much stranger and much worse many times before.\n\n\"Well... If you say so. You're the expert, I suppose,\" They muttered quietly. Maybe they shouldn't go along with him. After all, didn't they have things to do in the morning still? But then again, if they were left alone tonight... Who knew what'd happen. It seemed it'd be best if they went along, if only for their own sake - and he seemed to want them there anyway.\n\nThey didn't focus on their surroundings throughout the journey, gaze instead fixated on the starry sky. It really was beautiful out here, and the journey felt far, far too short, being over before they knew it. They pulled away slightly and looked around somewhat curiously when the two of them landed, wondering what sort of place this was but not daring to ask. A campsite? Assumedly, it was his campsite... Why had he brought them here?" }, { "author": "Andreas Featherfall", "message": "Andreas would set them down once they made it to their destination. He'd rub the two puncher wounds on his neck, point that changed him to being a vampire. He was glad they didn't seem to ask if they did notice anything with the scar. It helped some that it's where his tattoo started but it still never hide all of it when looking closely. There was many things he knew didn't seem normal for a aasimar when reading about them. No glowing eyes or white wings. No healing abilities either, he just wasn't 100% a aasimar anymore. \n\nAndreas would go over to the fire pit and get one going. He knew they would need a bit of warm from that to help deal with the cold. For him it wasn't as big of a deal which is why he stayed out here alone but Jones would be different. Once he had it going he would look up at them and smile.* \"Look through the trees there and you will see why I brought you here\" He would point out to a thinning of the trees which would show the lake a bit lower than them, the moonlight glistening off the still water, giving a reflection of the sky above it and the trees bordering it. It was a peaceful place where Andreas had made his little home.\n\nLetting them look around a bit he'd try to clean up some of the more dangerous things. Some of his own ways he'd tortured himself during days where the darkness was too much. Though he didn't think it was a topic either of them probably needed to talk about yet. Than came the box of wine he had, he needed to hide it since he didn't want to have the question of why he had blood wine. Best not to bring it up, right? He didn't want them to take him bring them here the wrong way. He had no ill intentions for why he brought them here. No, was just to let them see the sensory and if they want to talk about something with no one around here was a great place for just that." }, { "author": "Doctor Jones", "message": "Admittedly, it was a little awkward to be brought here just like that. Andreas clearly hadn't been expecting company in his living space, and the Doctor felt like they were intruding more than a little, trying their hardest not to look at any of the mess. They didn't know where to sit or stand, and for the first few moments, just remained standing in place where they'd been put down, assuming that would be fine. It was hard to miss their awkwardness, the way they plucked at the dried blood stain on their sleeve and seemingly tried their hardest to move as little as possible to remain unnoticed.\n\nThere was one thing that caught their attention, though, and it was that sixth sense of theirs. They could sense that there was some kind of blood nearby, and not inside a body. Had it been stored in... Bottles? How very strange. Was he planning to murder them and bottle their blood? But why? What kind of person would need to store bottles of blood? Or had he maybe hunted an animal and didn't know how to dispose of it properly? The Doctor decided to hope that explanation was the truth, not wanting to go into it any further - they supposed Andreas had his own private business. Still, the way they were staring directly at the bottles for a few moments was undeniable; they Knew.\n\nInstead, they followed where he was pointing and looked over there, lips parting for a few moments as they took it all in. It was a beautiful sight, there was no other way to describe it. The Doctor watched silently, watched the reflection of the moon ripple in the water. It made them feel a little more at ease about the situation, though they kept plucking at their sleeve and very much remained standing in place. They looked so awkward, one might consider it comical." }, { "author": "Andreas Featherfall", "message": "Once Andreas had finished cleaning up most of it and felt a bit better with the camp not looking so messing he would go into his tent for a moment to grab a few things before coming over to the fire and setting down a fur pelt by it and a stack of blankets. He knew they probably would need it so best to get it for them now.* \"You don't have to just stand there. Come sit down by the fire so you can warm up. Uh... You sensed something by the way you were looking. You can ask whatever you want here. I will try answering whatever you are questioning.\"\n\nHe knew he couldn't hide it forever if he wanted to he'd just erase it later but something told him not to jump that far yet. He wanted them to trust him even if it meant revealing more about himself. Plus it would help them know to be maybe more cautious at times when it came to blood? He rubbed his neck as he didn't know what to say about it all.\n\n\"It really is some sight huh? The moon on the water, it's the reason I decided to stay here over going into the city and getting a room. Lot more peaceful out here and you have the birds waking you over well the sound of the city waking up. So, I thought you might like this as well? Maybe I just thought you would\"" }, { "author": "Doctor Jones", "message": "Was it really a good idea to ask practically a stranger why he was storing bottles of blood? Maybe not, but the Doctor's curiosity had always been difficult to contain, often to the detriment of themself and everyone around them. Well... What was the worst that could happen, right?\n\nThey approached the fire hesitantly, extending their hands to it with a grateful sigh. With how thin they were, they had a lot of difficulties maintaining their body heat, and so fires like these were greatly appreciated - only now did they notice how cold they were, shivering slightly. \"I suppose I was just wondering why you were storing blood in bottles,\" They muttered with a vague shrug, not looking Andreas in the eye. Instead, they went to sit down on the pelt, keeping their hands closer to the fire to try and get some warmth in their body.\n\n\"...It reminds me of home,\" The Doctor said softly as they gazed in the direction of the lake. Their home in Findara, that was, where they'd lived until Henryk brought them here. \"It's quite nice. Thank you for bringing me here... I suppose.\" If he was about to murder them, at least they'd go out with a beautiful image in their mind. It was a rather nice thought." }, { "author": "Andreas Featherfall", "message": "Andreas would be glad they got closer to the fire, he had seen they were shivering from the cold so he'd wanted to get them warmed up as soon as he could. Letting them sit down before he'd move to cover their lap with a blanket and then their shoulder with one a bit thicker and warmer. He liked collecting blankets from the different areas he'd been to. A silly type of thing to collect but seemed to be something helpful tonight. \n\nOnce he made sure they were warm enough he'd move away so as they could see him across the fire and know where he was at. It was better this way in order to not make them more fearful of him once he revealed why he had bottles of blood. Though he didn't exactly like the idea of addressing right off the bat so he'd sit down first and keep his hands on his knees, a way to show he wasn't armed. \"It kind of reminds me a bit of home as well... Of course the sky islands are a bit different but some of this reminds me of them. It's a nice sight to watch, so I'm glad you like it as well.\" \n\nAndreas would rub the back of his neck as he tried to think of an easy way to reveal it. He didn't realize it was so hard to actually tell someone since it usually was kept a secret. \"I suppose the best way to answer the blood in the bottles is first off its not because I'm some random killer. I didn't bring you here to do that and if I had you are way to calm for that. But that isn't a thing I do...\" Andreas would look down at his hands as he'd fiddle with his ring again, a habit when he was nervous about something. \"I have them because I drink the blood, and no I'm not some cannibal... Well not exactly a cannibal? I don't know really if that would count as cannibalism since I'm not eating flesh... This is just sounding worse by the second isn't it?\" He'd look up at them slightly as he wanted to see if they were nervous around him\n-\n\n\"You're a doctor so... I'm sure you have you heard of vampirism. Well it's what I have, most just call it being a vampire or a night walker... It also means I don't exactly die of old age and I need blood to survive. It's a safe way to get blood without... Hurting, killing, or turning someone else. It also has a well... Better taste since it's not just blood but a mix of herbs and wine... Less coppery.\" He'd hold out his hands as he looked at them. \"I'm really not going to hurt you, I don't kill to get blood. It's done safely by ones who willingly donate their blood and know we exist. So, I didn't bring you here for doing anything like that I just wanted to share the scenery with you that's all I promise.\"" }, { "author": "Doctor Jones", "message": "The Doctor hadn't been planning on wrapping themself up, being plenty comfortable with the fire alone, but they didn't stop Andreas from putting those blankets around their body. There was something so comforting about his touch, even if they couldn't place why that was. It almost made them wish he wasn't going to sit on the other side of the fire but next to them instead, where they could curl up against him. Why did they wish that? It made no sense. ...Maybe they should focus on what was being said.\n\nAs Andreas talked, the Doctor absently pulled the blanket a little more tightly around their shoulders, making sure not to sit too close to the fire to prevent them from catching fire. They had to admit that they were comfortable here, more comfortable than they thought possible on a night like tonight. Maybe they should thank Andreas for that. Not now, though, they had to listen to his tale. And listen, they did. They sat in silence, face completely neutral as he spoke. Even they could tell that this was a big deal and that they should be respectful about it. Usually, they wouldn't have bothered to pay so much attention, but with Andreas... They wanted to listen to him.\n\nIt was an intriguing story, and no doubt a difficult confession. Vampirism, hmm. The Doctor had to admit, they weren't entirely familiar with the disease. They'd heard of and read about it plenty, but that was all theory. This wasn't theory, this was a real-life vampire sitting in front of them, having dragged them along through the sky to this hidden island. How... Interesting. How very, very Interesting.\n_ _\n\nThe Doctor rose to their feet and shrugged off the blankets. Perhaps Andreas may expect them to leave, but no, no, they didn't. They walked around the campfire and approached him, left hand reaching out to be placed upon his cheek and feel the warmth of his skin. \"You don't feel like a vampire,\" They said absently, retracting their hand after a moment. \"Nor do you look like one.\" Their expression was nothing but curiosity, no judgement at all. \"Though I suppose it would explain why you reacted like that when I was bleeding... Does the scent of blood drive you mad?\" Should they test it out? See how he'd react if they bled a little more? They couldn't help being curious... But their reaction probably could have been a lot worse, right? Right now, the Doctor was treating Andreas' vampirism less like something burdensome and more like something they were genuinely curious about." }, { "author": "Andreas Featherfall", "message": "Andreas thought they would react differently. Thar they would want to leave and not be around them. This was how he expected them to react, that they would want nothing to do with him once knowing. He knew drinking blood wasn't normal to others and most found this gross and disturbing. \n\nHe'd closed his eyes expected them to say as much when they got up. He was ready to be rejected and having to take them back before making them forget about the night and respect the wishes of not running into them again.\n\nWhat he hadn't expected was them to come over and place a hand against his cheek, looking up at them in a bit of surprise they were. \"We blend in more than the stories tell. My skin is still cool compared to most, I think it's just still warmer than yours to notice it as badly. I only will look pale if I went longer than a month without blood, otherwise I'm able to look as if I did before I changed.\" Andreas didn't feel like hiding it with them, he didn't mind answering any questions that seemed to be from them. Though he could see one question in their mind he didn't plan to let them test. No, instead he'd be up before they could realize it and had them captive in his hold again as he'd walk them both over to the fur pelt to sit on. Keeping them still a bit captive in his hold by holding them around their waist gently. He'd gotten a blanket onto their lap before them knowing it was even happening. \"The scent usually doesn't drive me made, but we are not testing me with blood either. Yes, tonight the scent made my fangs hurt a bit to bite but not because I was hungry. I only drink the bottled blood because if I were to bite someone it will either be a painful death or a painful change. I don't wish to put that onto another... Bit it doesn't mean my instincts still didn't make me want to bite after a long time of not. So, yes I had acted a bit more... Rash because I smelled your blood but I wouldn't have bit you as I have enough control usually.\"" }, { "author": "Doctor Jones", "message": "Now that Andreas was pointing it out, they did actually notice that his skin was a little cooler than most peoples' - though it didn't seem to be as bad as theirs. That would explain why they hadn't noticed it. Plus, their ignorance on Aasimar biology led them to assume a lot of things were just normal for his species... Actually, thinking on it, what other things did they assume that weren't actually as normal as they'd like to believe?\n\nThey listened to his answers, and then came the surprise of him grabbing them again. The Doctor instinctively struggled for a moment but was quick to relax, raising a silent eyebrow at Andreas. Had he guessed their plan? It was impressive, if not a massive pain. Well whatever. Even if he couldn't do much to stop them save for tying down each of their fingers individually, it was enough to discourage them. What good would come of it? Even if they were still curious, the warmth of his body was enough to keep them away from doing it.\n\nThe Doctor leaned against Andreas, taking one of his hands and examining it curiously. Didn't seem all that different from normal people. Even if they were satisfied with what they'd learned, they didn't let him go, seeming intent on keeping him here.\n\n\"So that means you have turned people before?\" They asked with a tilt of the head - an innocent question with no malice behind it. They couldn't judge. \"Does blood all taste the same to you? What about other foods, can you still taste them? Do they give you any nutritional value at all?\" Perhaps it was a strange thing to ask about, but they had to know. Was there someone out there like them?\n_ _\n\nAs they talked, the Doctor shifted positions, turning around to face him while sitting on his lap, either not noticing or not caring how inappropriate they were being. There was a rare spark of enthusiasm in their eyes, and their curiosity was undeniable - Andreas, unfortunately, was their unwilling test subject. \"How did you get turned? It can't have been recent, considering how much you seem to know about everything, right?\" Their arms rested on his shoulders, loosely draped over them as the Doctor asked their questions. At least their mind seemed to be distracted from all the depressing things they must've been thinking about before." }, { "author": "Andreas Featherfall", "message": "Andreas was glad to just hold them a bit captive so in order to not let them hurt themselves all in order to test something they didn't need to. He'd let them look at his hands, it didn't bother him any since he was sure they were plenty curious now since he'd revealed something big. He didn't believe he'd have to worry about them telling but could get to that later.\n\nTo them turning to face him during the questions he'd look down at them as he couldn't help but chuckle at their mind being so curious with all the questions. \"No, I haven't turned anyone. I know it's very painful because of being turned. I haven't planned to subject anyone else to this unwillingly as it's not some great thing. Though not said it told the fact he'd killed before because he'd revealed that there was only two ways before. \"We crave all types of blood, but I don't think all type taste the same. I think some have a more bitter taste and some came have a more sweet taste. That goes for the blood wines, uh that's what is in the bottles are called. I get mine from a less popular seller because to me it taste better than other sellers... Doesn't mean I don't like trying different ones since I don't try from the source anymore. I can still taste foods but they aren't as appealing to me by themselves. Even for a drink I rather have some blood mixed into it. Straight blood is more coppery which I why I do the wines. It's still blood but it'd from someone who's drank and had different herbs in their system to make it have its own taste that isn't so coppery like. As for food it doesn't give me much nutrition I could eat food sure but in the end I would still starve without blood and that's a painful way to die because it won't happen over simply a short time.\" \n\nAndreas would smile as he pet their head a bit, they were full of surprises with how they were draping their arms over his shoulders and sitting but he was trying his best not to make it into something it wasn't.\n-\n\n\"I got bit and fed from, it's rare to have someone born with vampirism. I did it willingly a long time ago for selfish reasons. Now I have to live with the choice of it for a very long time till I die of someone finding out about it and taking that information to kill me. I have outlived most my family and will probably outlive the rest of them. It's a more lonely deal than wanted, I wouldn't suggest it.\" He'd shrug as if it was nothing though as he was more used to it because he'd confined himself to such a life till now." }, { "author": "Doctor Jones", "message": "The Doctor said nothing in response to all the answers, only listening in silence. Why Andreas was so willing to answer everything, they didn't know, but they were happy he didn't seem to mind their questions. Most people would have gotten mad or offended at their curiosity - luckily, Andreas didn't.\n\nIt seemed like he wasn't exactly the same as them, but that was to be expected - they had met someone with the same condition as them maybe once or twice in their lifetime, and that was so long ago it may just as well be ancient history to many. At least some of their assumptions had been corrected, they felt oddly relieved about it. The assumption that vampires could only drink blood was one that they'd always been curious about, and now they knew.\n\nIf he never turned anyone, did that mean... No, they couldn't think about that. Who were they, to judge someone for the sins of their past? Andreas seemed very committed to not causing anyone any harm today, considering the blood wine, and so they shouldn't question it until he wanted to talk about it. Another question came to mind, though.\n\nThe Doctor was quiet for a few long moments, fiddling with their sleeve as they still held their arms draped over his shoulders. Should they ask it? This was an exceedingly... Strange question, and they wouldn't want to scare him off, but on the other hand, this opportunity was so impossibly rare to come by, they had to try.\n\nA deep breath and they raised their gaze to meet his. \"Can I taste your blood?\" The Doctor blurted, deciding that was the best way to get the question out, though... Maybe an explanation was in order. Then again, they really didn't want to. \"Not a lot,\" They said anyway, \"Just a few drops. I can extract it painlessly, you won't even notice it.\" Hopefully he'd agree... They were dying to know what a vampire's blood would taste like, always had been." }, { "author": "Andreas Featherfall", "message": "Andreas was curious, he couldn't help but wonder what they thought of him now. It wasn't something he usually just shared so he knew there was a lot at stake if something got said wrong. Had he said too much, to little? It was hard to really know with them just being silent.\n\nThough that worry quickly turned to shock ans surprise at their quest. They wanted to taste his blood? Well know he was curious on what was going on. Did they have some strange desire to drink blood? It didn't seem right but how would he know he'd met more than his fair share of strange. Though he'd try playing it off as not too strange. \"Got a liking of tasting blood? I know you aren't a vampire because you don't got the fangs for it.\" He'd chuckle a bit as he would tap their mouth lightly with a finger, he was more just surprised by the question than anything. As long as he wasn't biting them his blood wasn't dangerous. That would be a hassle if he had to watch ever drop of his blood like that. \n\n\"I think I don't need you handling anything sharp getting blood. Plus it's not like I'm going to cut my wrist open for you to taste my blood. But you have to answer why you are so curious about tasting my blood before you get any. You got a story behind that and no way your getting away with not giving me a bit of an answer.\" Andreas didn't mind if they did as long as he knew a bit why they wanted to know so badly how it tasted." }, { "author": "Doctor Jones", "message": "The Doctor was very aware how strange the request was, but they couldn't just not ask it, right? What were the odds such an opportunity would come up again? No, they had to try - and luckily, Andreas didn't seem to be as appalled by the idea as they'd expected he would be.\n\nThough he didn't agree immediately either, unfortunately. The Doctor didn't mind the way he touched their lips, but they were a little annoyed that he assumed they'd need something sharp. They pulled their hands away and sat back slightly, still on top of him but resting their hands in their lap. A moment of hesitation, and then they pulled up their right sleeve slightly, just enough to expose the veins of their wrist and a few of the longer scars that poked out. Then, they brushed their thumb over the vein, and a small slit opened. Normally, one would expect the blood to spill out, but it didn't, continuing to flow as if there wasn't a gap in the skin. A moment later, they brushed their thumb over the small wound again and it closed up, not even scarring - which might make one wonder why they had so many scars on their arm, and why they hadn't healed the current wound just yet. \"It'd be like that,\" They said, either not feeling any pain or being so desensitized to it that it didn't bother them. \"I doubt you'd notice it.\" Additionally, if it were that easy for them to cause themself harm, why were they so attached to the scalpel?\n_ _\n\nThey carefully covered the scars back up again, still looking down at their right arm, covering the previous injury with their left hand. A moment passed, and then when they removed their hand, the bloodstain on their clothing was gone as if it had never been there. It was done in complete silence as they thought about how to answer that question they really didn't want to. \"I just... I'm curious,\" The Doctor muttered eventually, shifting slightly as they folded their hands together in their lap. \"I can tell you the exact reason, but... It's not a topic I'm exactly comfortable discussing. If that's what it takes, I will, I just... I'd rather not.\" At least they were being honest about it." }, { "author": "Andreas Featherfall", "message": "Andreas would be shocked at what he was seeing, it wasn't something you would just see someone do and yet here they were able to so something that wasn't normal. Even his abilities back when he had ones weren't anything like that. It was interesting to see yet also a bit unnerving. Which for him was not normal to get unnerved by something when he'd done many of cruel things in the past. There was so much blood on his hands, innocent blood just as much as the ones who deserved to die... Just not the way they did. \n\nHe'd shake away the thoughts as he knew it wouldn't help him any but it didn't mean some of the sounds and screams didn't linger in his mind because of it. \"Remind me to make sure you don't do things like that when I catch you with a blade. I don't think you should do that to yourself, doctor or not its still risky. And as much as it's a interesting way to do things I think I'm fine with giving myself a cut, it will heal still just like any other cut would.\" \n\nAndreas would tap a finger under their chin to make them look up at him, giving them a small smile. He wouldn't force them into talking about it, he knew they still needed time to really trust him. But he also knew there was lots of dark secrets between the two. \"That's enough of an answer for me, you don't have to talk about something you aren't comfortable with. Only when you want to reveal something do you have to around me. Out here and with me there is no judgment, but don't expect me not to give a joke or tease you. The least I should be able to do.\" Andreas would remove his hand as he took out a small blade, the glistening of the blade reflecting his eyes shifting red for a moment before he'd take his right hand and cut his palm, just deep enough to cause blood to come to the surface. He'd put away the knife as he avoided looking at his hand. Some things just reminded of past mistakes." }, { "author": "Doctor Jones", "message": "\"I know how to avoid cutting my veins,\" The Doctor huffed in response with some amount of annoyance in their voice. \"And even if I would accidentally cause more damage, it's not difficult for me to fix it.\" Though... Wasn't the fact that they had to reassure him of that kind of messed up? Indeed, when trying to justify this behavior, they sometimes forgot how insane it was that they needed to in the first place, that normal people never even considered doing something like it. And with how many scars they had, it was hard to miss how frequently it happened.\n\nBetter not think of that right now. Instead, it seemed that Andreas did finally accept their question, strange as it may be. The Doctor let him lift up their chin, but averted their gaze at the smile he gave them. A sigh of relief escaped them when he didn't try to force them to talk about the matter. Maybe some day they would, but that day wasn't today. Even if Andreas had already revealed this huge part of himself, they weren't as ready to do so themself. \"You can joke about some aspects, I suppose... I don't care that much,\" They muttered with a faint shrug. There were some things they'd prefer he wouldn't joke about, but they didn't exactly have the right to complain about that, did they?\n\nThey turned to look at the cut when he made it, gently taking his hand in their right. There was a brief moment of hesitation, and then the Doctor moved their hand left over Andreas', pulling up some of the blood. They held their gaze down as they raised their hand, the blood floating up, and disappearing into their mouth. The Doctor closed their eyes to taste it better, curious as to if it would be any different compared to regular peoples' blood." }, { "author": "Andreas Featherfall", "message": "\"Still something I'm going to make sure doesn't happen. I can't heal you like a normal aasimar if you messed up while out of it. So, I rather made sure that just doesn't happen at all, okay?\" Andreas just wanted to make sure nothing bad happened to them, he wanted them to be safe he guessed which was a bit strange thing to want for someone he still didn't know well.\n\nHe would frown a bit at them averting their gaze but he couldn't dwell on it. It wasn't going to change, they felt the need to hide more than he did when with someone. He felt the need to hide it more in private were no one saw the brokenness. \"I will try not to joke about certain things so don't worry. I know enough not to cross certain lines.\" He'd not care about the blood pooling in his hand as he just ignored it all together and looked at the fire. Maybe he should have called it a night before but he also couldn't leave them alone either. He'd distracted them from the main thing so it was fine.\n\nAndreas let them take whatever as he just watched the fire. Once they took what they needed he'd take his hand away and cover the wound with cloth. It would heal soon enough with the vampire trait. His blood was different, there was definitely less blood cells in the amount of blood compared to others, the color had also been more deep red as less oxygen would have been going through it as well. (And whatever else would made it seem different from less blood cells and blood flow in the body)." }, { "author": "Doctor Jones", "message": "What was he so worried about? They knew what they were doing, they'd done it plenty of times. Did it go wrong sometimes? Sure, but what didn't? And they'd been able to fix the problem every time, even if it took some time occasionally. The Doctor didn't say any of that aloud, though, realizing that Andreas wouldn't understand and that it wouldn't be worth the energy to try and convince him - besides, they had more important things to worry about.\n\nThey sat in silence, eyes closed, head lowered for several minutes, the only movement slight twitches of their lower jaw to allow the flavor to spread to each region of their mouth. Indeed, it did taste different. Very different, actually, though not different in a way that allowed ordinary people to taste it. Frankly, part of them was tempted to compare it to something else, but they were sure Andreas would try to stop them - there was but one other willing subject nearby, after all.\n\nAfter that time, they swallowed absently and reopened their eyes, nodding to themself. \"Very interesting,\" The Doctor only muttered, and fetched their notepad from their pocket. With a stick of charcoal, they made a few quick notes, though the page had something curious to it - the edges were decorated with beautifully detailed drawings of flowers, in this case daisies that were weaved together to wrap around the page. It was a sharp contrast to their handwriting, which was truly worthy of a doctor's - a complete mess and impossible to read to anyone but themself. This artwork didn't seem to be something they cared very much about hiding, for once, displaying it openly if Andreas was interested in looking at it." }, { "author": "Andreas Featherfall", "message": "Andreas was a but lost in his own thoughts as they tasted the blood. Some things were best not to worry about such things of the past but some were hard to avoid. This was one of those times as his face showed that he was in a more dark place of thoughts. Though he was trying to hide he was feeling such a way because it wasn't what they needed to know or deal with. He was supposed to be the comfort this time. \n\nAt them muttering about the taste he would shake his head a bit as he tried to push the thoughts away and hide that he was thinking darker thoughts. He'd look back over at them slightly, seemed they wanted to write down things though he should be worrying about them writing something that would talk about the vampirism his eyes were drawn more to the border of it. Something he didn't see usually but in his stone charms. Though he also never much tried looking for such designs either.\n\nHe didn't say anything about it but just looked at the intricate designs. It really was something he wouldn't expect to see in a doctors notepad. But who knows all doctors were a bit different. \"You get your questions answered? Or do you have more going through that doctors head?\"" }, { "author": "Doctor Jones", "message": "The Doctor closed their notepad after writing down a few quick notes, nothing they intended on sharing, just some information they wished to write down for their own research. Even if someone found it, it was hard to understand the writing both because it was incredibly vague and generic, and their handwriting was nigh unreadable to anyone not familiar with them. They pocketed the thing and looked up at Andreas again as he asked his question.\n\nOf course the answer was a resounding 'yes'. Of course they had more questions. How exactly did one get turned, what myths about vampires were true and false, and so on. But they decided against asking those for now, not because they weren't curious, but because they were getting a little tired. Not that they wanted to admit that, because that'd make Andreas leave, wouldn't it?\n\n\"I've got what I need for now,\" The Doctor replied instead and once more draped their arms over his shoulders, looking Andreas in the eyes. \"...Thank you for answering all my questions, and... The other stuff.\" They looked away as they said that last bit, but looked up again once they finished it. \"Is there any way I can properly thank you? This information is very valuable to my research, and after everything tonight... I want to repay you somehow.\"" }, { "author": "Andreas Featherfall", "message": "Andreas looked up at them once they had finished writing. He didn't plan on asked about it since it didn't seem like anything they wanted to just share. Though it didn't mean he shouldn't still worry. He just simply didn't care at the moment.\n\nHe'd give them a small nod as he didn't care if he answered more questions or not. If they didn't have any for the moment it was fine as well. He'd just been wanting to make sure they were in a better mental state and it seemed he'd done just that. \"I don't see the point not answering them, it would be strange to tell you what I was than not answer any of it.\" His wings would twitch a bit with his need for something to calm his nerves but it was better to not let down his guard with them still being here.\n\nHe'd pat their head as he just wanted them to be feeling better. There was nothing he wanted, nothing he could ask for anyways. It was normal for him to want nothing from others when being alone for so long. \"I don't need anything, just as long as you are doing better I'm fine. Just making sure you do well tonight is all I want. So, don't worry about me wanting anything in return.\"" }, { "author": "Doctor Jones", "message": "With the fire on their back and Andreas in front of them, it wasn't hard for the Doctor to be comfortable, warming up significantly compared to earlier - they'd even stopped shivering and seemed plenty content now. Why did they feel so comfortable around him? Like they could just... Be, and not have to worry so much about everything? How very strange...\n\nWith their left hand, the Doctor gently brushed a strand of his hair behind his ears, and then leaned forward to embrace him once more, slender arms wrapped around the back of his head and their face once more buried in the crook of his neck. Hopefully he'd embrace them back - they didn't know why, but something about the way those strong arms wrapped all around them was so very comfortable.\n\n\"I'm okay tonight,\" They said softly, eyes held closed. Those pats on their head felt so nice... \"I think I just... Need to be held sometimes.\" They squeezed Andreas slightly, breathing slow and regular. \"It feels... Nice. I... Don't feel that way very often.\"" }, { "author": "Andreas Featherfall", "message": "Andreas didn't mind that they would nuzzle into his neck or holds onto him close. They just needed that type of comfort tonight so he was okay letting them be however they want to.\n\nHe would hold them with one arm as he would pat their head still. It helped him as well, let him calm down more and clear his mind. Maybe he wanted more sure but that wasn't something he needed to do, they didn't need that. \"We all just need a bit of comfort on hard days. I just seemed to be around to give that for you tonight which is good.\" \n\nAndreas would move slowly to lay down on his back as he'd look up at the stars a bit. At least with the fire and blankets he didn't have to worry about Jones getting cold, and if they did he's just wrap them up more. Though for now he'd just be okay with holding them and being by the fire." }, { "author": "Doctor Jones", "message": "Hard days, hmm... The Doctor supposed that would be an apt description for today. It was exhausting, overall, and they wanted nothing more than for it to be over. They didn't want to talk or think about the incident that happened before, about the way Andreas found them, all they wanted was to rest.\n\nThere was something so comforting about how he held them. His arm wrapped around them, making them feel safe and secure, his hand petting their head making them feel comforted in a way that they hadn't felt in ages. Why was he being so kind, so affectionate? Did it matter? No, they were just glad to be with Andreas, be close to him and get to be held by him.\n\nThe Doctor adjusted their position as he went to lie down, resting their head on his chest, hands folded beneath their chin as they just looked at him. A moment passed, and they turned their head to the side to be able to hear his heartbeat, letting their eyes fall shut. At least they didn't have to worry so much about flattening him when they laid like this, they barely weighed a thing compared to most. Hopefully he wouldn't mind the way their bones poked out, though, it was known to be bothersome to many.\n\nThe Doctor didn't ask about it, though, and just laid there, breathing slow and steady. They were falling asleep, and if Andreas let them, would be gone within moments, snoozing peacefully, seemingly without a worry in the world." }, { "author": "Andreas Featherfall", "message": "Andreas didn't mind letting them just forget about the day and just be held. It was helpful to him as well. It just seemed to help balance out the thoughts that made living hard at times.\n\nHe'd pet their head still as he'd be gentle at trying not to move too much as he'd pull the blankets over them. He didn't want them to get cold even though they felt comfortable in the moment. He didn't mind their bones being a bit more poked out. Yes, it was worrisome that they did but he also couldn't force them to take better care of themselves. Something maybe in the future to work on a little. Least make sure that they ate once a day to start? He knew how it was to let yourself go down an unhealthy path, he had done it for the first decade after he realized all head done, though he was sure they been doing it a lot longer so it wouldn't be some easy thing to try getting them to eat but that was okay.\n\nAndreas looked down at them as he couldn't help but smile just a bit. It was cute to see them like this, a peaceful moment for them he was sure. Sleeping here wasn't something he couldn't do, so he'd let them do just that. They need a good rest he was sure and it was still late. Plus he'd told them he wasn't leaving them alone for the night and he wasn't going to now." }, { "author": "Doctor Jones", "message": "Unfortunately, the Doctor did not manage to sleep throughout the entire night this time, though they got a good four hours or so in. They woke up for no particular reason, as they so often did, eyes blinking open slowly as they tried to process what was going on. Right... They were once more curled up with that strange Aasimar. A sigh escaped them as they carefully pulled away, and rose to their feet, silent as the night.\n\nThe white-haired doctor looked down at the man for a moment and then turned around, stuffing their hands into their pockets. They didn't know what they were doing. Just wandering around, they supposed. Their hand instinctively searched for the scalpel in their pocket but they found nothing. Right, it'd been taken. Once more they glanced at Andreas and considered briefly to search him, but no, that'd wake him up, wouldn't it? As far as they knew, he was still carrying the thing.\n\nWell, whatever. The Doctor went to sit down at the edge of the lake, looking out into the water as they crossed their legs beneath them. It was a nice night out, even if it was cold. So then why did they still feel so awful? Why was that irresistible urge still pulling at them?\n\n...\n\nThe scent of blood drifted through the air." }, { "author": "Andreas Featherfall", "message": "Andreas had been awake for some time after they finally fell asleep, his mind still wondering a bit but not as bad. Eventually he had found sleep as it pulled him under. He didn't know how long he's been sleeping till he felt a bit of something shifting from him. His mind still a bit drowsy so he'd for the moment not had thought anything of it. \n\nHe wasn't very well used to sleeping with another so he'd gone back to sleep for the time being. The peaceful night and fire helped him think less of the worst. Though he would be up once smelling blood. Sitting up as he looked down to notice they were gone. This sent a bit of panic through him as for some reason his mind went to a worst case. Getting up quickly he'd look around the camp, hoping they were right there but it wasn't the case.\n\nGrowling a bit in frustration he'd run a hand through his hair as his eyes changed red. He hoped it wasn't them and if someone came here and hurt them he wouldn't go easy on that person. Though he knew more what the scent was probably from. Heading towards it as he went to find out." }, { "author": "Doctor Jones", "message": "It was a strange sight. The Doctor was sitting cross-legged at the lake's edge, looking incredibly peaceful from behind. From the front, it was another sight entirely, though. The small gash in their arm from earlier had been expanded, stretching from the inside of their elbow to about four inches down their upper arm in a clean, vertical line. Though it didn't hit any veins or do any significant damage, the cut was far from shallow and no doubt should hurt a ton.\n\nOf course it bled, though not as much as one might expect. Still, their right arm, right leg, their left hand, and the ground were all slick with blood, some of which was starting to dry up. The Doctor rested their injured arm on their right leg, palm facing upwards, and was working on carefully sewing the wound closed again, stitch after stitch. They held a curved needle in their left hand and clamped the other end of the thread in their mouth, sewing as if the pain didn't bother them at all. After every stitch, they made a knot, and soon enough the wound was closed. Maybe Andreas could see the last few stitches, maybe he was too slow - either way, the Doctor only looked up in his direction once they finished, carefully pocketing the curved needle.\n\nTheir expression showed... Nothing, really. No shame, no fear, only that strange numbness that came over them whenever they did this. They made no attempt to hide the gruesome sight, only numbly stared at Andreas, brushing a strand of hair behind their ear with their left hand and leaving behind a red streak on their cheek. What would his reaction be? It would no doubt be unpleasant, people generally didn't know how to respond to such a gruesome sight." }, { "author": "Andreas Featherfall", "message": "Andreas made it to the lakes edge as he found them with the gash on their arm. Sowing it up as if it was nothing, like they hadn't just tore their skin and let it bleed. He wanted to say something but what even could he say? He'd failed at doing the one thing he'd said he planned to do that night. For Andreas it was a blow as it reminded him too much of his own past. He should say something yet he had no words. He couldn't be mad at something he was unable to stop.\n\nThere was too much blood still in his eyes but that wasn't the thing that mattered in the moment. Ignoring the scent of blood he'd walk over to them, it was a mess and not a good one. He cursed himself in his head for having lost his abilities to heal long ago. Least he would be better at helping than. Sighing he'd lean down and pick them up, he didn't care what they wanted to do to protest at this as he'd hold them close. They needed warmth right now, not a lashing because of what they did. It was over for the moment and right now he needed to handle the first problem which was getting them back to the fire. He was upset but didn't show it, simply waking back to the fire and setting them down on the fur pelt, he'd give a warning glare for them not to move before he'd head over to get some cleaning supplies.\n\nComing back after a bit before sitting down with a small medical kit, he'd take their arm and start to gently clean up the blood. He still didn't know what to say and problem best not to say anything in the moment either as he feared he might show his fangs were extended. Though he wouldn't bite them, they didn't need that all they needed at the moment was to get warmed and cleaned up. The clothes was the main problem though with blood on them. What to do with them he didn't know yet. Shaking his head he'd finish cleaning the area around it before wrapping his arm completely in a bandage. He wouldn't be hearing the end of this later he was sure.\n-\n\nLooking at them he'd gently push back their hair before wiping away the red streak of blood. He'd have stayed gentle the whole time. Sighing again at the sight before he'd tap their forehead with a knuckle. He couldn't say anything about the wound but he would about the bloody mess. \"You got two options here, you can take your bloody clothes off and I wrap you up like a roll in blankets, or you take the bloody clothes off and you get to have a very big sweater on. That's the only options you got right now as your out of it.\"" }, { "author": "Doctor Jones", "message": "Usually, the Doctor would have protested. Tried to stop Andreas from scooping them up and taking them along, but they didn't have the energy. It was all just so exhausting... They kind of wished to drift back to sleep, curled up in his arms. Maybe they would have, were it not for the sudden pain shooting through their arm.\n\nA startled gasp escaped them as they tried to pull their arm free when Andreas started cleaning it, the pain seemingly pulling them back to reality. Part of them wanted to protest but they couldn't get the words out, and so they gave in after a moment, letting Andreas clean up the wound and wrap it up. His technique for bandaging them was way off, that was not how one made sure it sat securely. He should just have let them do it. But strangely... They didn't mind all that much. There was something comforting about being cared for in such a way - even if they still hated being touched there.\n\nThey looked up at Andreas as he tapped their forehead, pulling their sleeve back over their arm to cover it up. Was he mad? Disappointed? He couldn't be happy, being woken up in the middle of the night for such a reason. Did he hate them? He had to, right? But none of the words he said reflected any of that - though they weren't all that much better either.\n\nThe Doctor let the silence linger for a long time, hugging their right arm to their stomach and wrapping their left arm around it. They lowered their gaze, and said meekly, voice so soft it was barely audible; \"...I don't want to... Undress right now.\" Or ever, especially when there were other people nearby, no matter how nice those people were. \"I'm sorry... Are you mad at me?\" It wouldn't be surprising at all." }, { "author": "Andreas Featherfall", "message": "Andreas tried to still be gentle as he had treated their wound and cleaned up the blood, sure he wasn't no expert but he knew enough that it needed to be dealt with. Maybe he should have just taken them to another doctor, let them deal with the problem but he had made a promise not to tell anyone else so this was all he could do. Though he'd give a glare at them to warn them not to move from that spot as he got up once again, he decided making something warm for them to hold would help so he'd get some coffee making on the fire before returning again.\n\nHe still didn't have much ti say as he didn't know what to say. He just had wanted them to be safe and yet he had failed at protecting them from this. No, he wasn't mad with them, more himself than anything. He didn't plan to scold them as what good would it do when it was already done. He just had to move on and help them now.\n\nHe would tap their head again with his knuckle as he was hardly going to just let them get away with not undressing. They could say what they wanted but he wasn't going to allow it. \"You are undressing willingly or I will take your clothes off myself. There is no third option here. Not for this, so you can either change into the big sweater on your own and I won't look till your done or I will see as I take them off myself.\" Andreas would push back their hair again as he signed at their last question. \"I'm not mad at you, do I wish you wouldn't have done that yes but I can't change the past on this or anything else.\"" }, { "author": "Doctor Jones", "message": "The Doctor inhaled sharply, flinching away from Andreas. How could he say that? They didn't want... They couldn't do that. Not here, not now when they were already dealing with so much. \"Please don't make me...\" They said in a barely audible whisper, curling their arms around themself. Their eyes were filled with a silent plea as they looked up at him before looking away again, looking so very small.\n\nThey could clean off the blood themself, but in their weakened state, it was going to take more energy than they had. Usually, it would only take a moment, but it was impossible currently. They could recognize the fact that it was important for Andreas, the fact that he was a controlling himself so well right now was greatly appreciated, but even then... They'd rather be attacked by him than be forced to undress right now. Their discomfort was impossible to miss, the way it looked like they were about to just run away instead of staying here in this awful conversation with someone that didn't seem to understand how deep their insecurities ran.\n\nAt least his statement about not being mad seemed to be genuine enough, that was a relief. The Doctor didn't look very relieved, though. They still seemed to be considering trying to run away, arms curled around their chest and their gaze kept low. Hopefully he'd listen to their plea. Couldn't they just go back to sleep and pretend this never happened? If that happened... That'd be ideal." }, { "author": "Andreas Featherfall", "message": "Andreas would sigh as it was a hassle that they just didn't seem to understand why it needed to be done. He got they didn't want anyone seeing them and he didn't plan to look. But the clothes were wet which concerned him more than anything. Yes, the blood smell was not helping him but he could ignore it enough. No, he just wanted to get them better.\n\nHe'd run a hand through his hair as he didn't know what all to do. Some part of him still wanted to be mad but he just couldn't do it. He didn't care about it in the moment. Shaking his head he'd tap their head again to make them look at him. Hopefully they would but he didn't know for sure if they would or not. \"Alright fine, but you need to left your arms up than so you can least have something warm over those clothes. Than you are not being left alone the rest of the night. You let too much blood out and I need to make sure you don't pass out and get worse. We are in this together okay? You can fight me all you want later but in the moment you need some warm clothes over your bloody ones and than I'm going to sit you on my lap, okay? I won't touch you unless you want me to but right now you need all the warmth you can get. That mean you need to also drink the coffee I'm making to help regulate your heat some. You don't have to right away but you need to sip on it.\" \n\nAndreas might not be a doctor but he knew a bit of medicinal stuff to help, he just hoped they would listen to him enough to do it. He knew they were hurting and uncomfortable right now but they still needed help even if they were." }, { "author": "Doctor Jones", "message": "Indeed, when Andreas tapped their head, the Doctor looked back at him, though still very much looking more than a little uncertain. The way they protectively held their arms close to their chest made it clear that whatever he was planning, they weren't going to let him do it without a fight. Luckily, he didn't seem to want to threaten them at all. He was... Accepting of their demands. That was highly unexpected.\n\nThey seemed to relax a little and nodded, arms lowering slightly. That request was more than reasonable, and the Doctor was okay with obliging. They knew they needed the warmth, and the comfort would be greatly appreciated - plus, it didn't matter how much coffee they drank right now, they doubted they'd be able to sleep tonight anyway. Not with the constant pain in their arm.\n\n\"Okay,\" They said with a nod, and once more averted their gaze. Why was he being so kind? Why wasn't he yelling at them? Why wasn't he pissed off at what they did? The Doctor lowered their head, being quiet for a moment before speaking up again. \"...I'm sorry,\" They added so very softly. \"I just...\" Why was this always so Impossible To talk about? They wished that they didn't have to discuss it, but didn't Andreas deserve some kind of explanation? Even if it didn't make sense? \"Earlier today, it was... Such a small wound, it... It was not good enough. I know that makes no sense at all, but... I had to...\" Another pause, another deep breath as they squeezed their eyes shut and blurted in one breath; \"I don't know how else to explain it but the urge doesn't go away until I cause enough damage to myself.\"" }, { "author": "Andreas Featherfall", "message": "Andreas was glad they seemed to comply enough for him to get them into a sweater to least give some more warmth before he would pick them up and move them to his lap. They could do as they pleased at that point as he'd just simply make them both a cup of coffee for them to drink, of course his would have some blood in it to help the craving a bit but he wouldn't attack them. Holding out the mug for them as he drank a bit of his own. He made sure not to add anything but some sugar to help them recover more. \n\nHe didn't care about what happened he just cared about the now, sure he was a bit in his own dark place but he wasn't showing it. Instead he was just focused on helping them through the night. \"It's fine, you don't need to apologize or tell me about it. It's something you do I get it, I might not like it but it doesn't matter okay? I'm just some stranger to you anyways so what right do I have to tell you what you do with your body?\"\n\nHe'd set a blanket on their lap as he set down his own mug. Just some things you can't change and if that's how they felt it was something they just felt helped, though he would have to help change that if he still was around later on. For tonight it really didnt matter. \"Just because I can't change it doesn't mean I'm leaving, okay? You still need warmth and I'm sure you are in pain so comfort will help too.\"" }, { "author": "Doctor Jones", "message": "The Doctor couldn't help but raise an eyebrow at Andreas' cup, sensing the blood in it but not asking about it. It made sense, all things considered, and they could imagine he was craving the stuff with how covered in blood they were. Had he been resisting his cravings? How difficult was that? Questions they wanted to ask but decided against for now.\n\nThey did wince and inhale sharply as the sweater was pulled on, using their left hand to carefully guide it over their right arm to minimize the pain. Clearly, it hurt a lot, but they didn't complain at all - they didn't have the right to, did they? It was their own fault, after all, they did this and now they had to live with the consequences. At least it didn't hurt so much more when the sweater was actually on, and the Doctor gently cradled their right arm to their stomach, holding it without moving so that it hurt as little as possible.\n\nThey held their own cup in their left hand only, partially resting it on their lap. Why was Andreas being so nice? The Doctor rested their head against his chest as they took a sip, enjoying the warmth of the drink. \"I don't know if you'll want to stick around,\" They muttered softly. \"I'm... Not okay, and... You shouldn't have to deal with that.\" The Doctor gazed down into the dark liquid, trying their hardest to ignore the pain. \"I get it if you don't want to be around me, if you don't want to meet again after today. I just... I don't know,\" They finished and sighed, cutting off their own ramble. No matter how much they wanted to, it'd be selfish to ask Andreas to stay here, and the Doctor sure as hell wasn't planning on doing it. Maybe... It'd be for the best if they managed to push him away." }, { "author": "Andreas Featherfall", "message": "Andreas really didn't have much for pain, least not anything that was good. Drugs sure but they didn't need that right now. He just tried helping them as much as he could and kept from moving too much. They probably needed better medical care but out here he didn't have it and he knew flying wouldn't help them in order to get any. No, instead he'd just concentrate on his drink as he looked down at it. He wanted something different but couldn't right now.\n\n\"You can say if it hurts or whatever you need to do. It's going to keep hurting since you made it deep and right now we can't go looking for something to fix it. Least not while you in this state\" Andreas kept his to himself like he said he would. Come morning he could take them back once they were little less out of it from the blood loss but it would take some time.\n\nHe'd look off to the lake as he signed, this night definitely wasn't planned. A pain was more like it on some aspects but it would be fine. \"I'm not leaving so stop trying to make me leave. You're just going to have to deal work me sticking around. So you got some things that need worked through and you got some not good habits. I got just as many I'm sure.\" He'd tap their head as he didn't plan to be mean but it still was to make them get it through their head he wasn't going anywherem" }, { "author": "Doctor Jones", "message": "\"I could fix it,\" The Doctor said softly, gazing down at their arm. \"Like how I fixed your hand a week ago. Like how I've fixed countless worse injuries. It wouldn't even leave a scar.\" Sure, maybe they didn't have the energy right now to fix it fully, but they could make an effort - it'd hurt way less if they did. So then why didn't they? What was stopping them? That was a question even they themself couldn't answer, and it was the same reason they tended to deny anything that could help ease the pain.\n\nThey sipped their coffee quietly, glad for the warmth that seemed to spread throughout their body. Absently, the Doctor leaned against Andreas, eyes falling shut. Even if they couldn't sleep right now, they were still exhausted.\n\n\"Well... If that's what you think,\" They said noncommittally with a vague shrug of their left arm. \"Suppose I can't force you to leave... Suppose I don't mind you staying either.\" They pulled their legs up slightly, winced at the slight movement of their right arm that came with them moving around, then relaxed again, eyes remaining shut. Were it not for them occasionally sipping their coffee, one might think them asleep." }, { "author": "Andreas Featherfall", "message": "\"Yes, you could yet you don't have the energy to do so. You just need to rest for now even if you can't sleep. I'll take you back later once you feel more like moving.\" He knew that though they said they could do it they wouldn't, they would leave the scar for some reason. He might not know why and in reality it wasn't his to ask. Some scars just won't worth healing.\n\nHe didn't have same energy to make a comment on what they said. To him it still led to some hard memories so what was there even to say right now? They didn't seem to care what he did so he'd just leave it at that. Later he could do what he was wanting to do but not right now. He just was there to keep them warm and that's what he would do.\n\nHe'd look up at the sky and he couldn't help but think of that day, the last things he'd said before it all went bad. The smell of blood so noticeable now when he thought back to the night, how he'd just wished they were playing a joke on his. The start of his fall... The night that ruined everything. His wings couldn't help but twitch with the known feeling of a blade against them, how he'd almost lost that part of himself had it not been for his change. Too many past mistakes he wanted to fix, things he wanted to say yet couldn't. A lonely path that took him from the rest of his family" }, { "author": "Doctor Jones", "message": "A few moments of silence. The Doctor listened to Andreas speak, and only let out a soft \"Mmh\" Noise in response. They didn't have the energy to formulate a proper reply, all they wanted to do was rest, even if they couldn't sleep. It was so warm and comfortable here... It reminded them of home.\n\nThis situation felt eerily similar to back then in many ways. The way Andreas was holding them, it almost made them feel young again, like they were but a child, curled up with their brother after he'd caught them doing this exact thing. He had helped them with the patience of a saint, like Andreas was right now, and then held them close - he hadn't even told their parents. Perhaps he should have. Perhaps things would have turned out differently then.\n\nThe Doctor sipped their coffee and drained the cup, setting it aside on the ground. They adjusted their position then, sitting so that they were still on Andreas' lap, but their left side was rested against his chest so that they could make themself small. Eyes closed once more as they leaned their head against his chest, breathing slowly and peacefully. If it were up to them, they were happy to stay like this for the rest of the night, warm, comforted, and most of all, not alone for once." }, { "author": "Andreas Featherfall", "message": "Andreas wouldn't mind that they didn't want to talk much. He knew they were tired and needed some type of rest even if it wasn't actual sleep. He didn't plan on moving it leaving so they could stay as long as they wanted to. He was sure eventually yes they would have to leave but for now it didn't have to be that way.\n\nHe did want to be a comfort for them even if they might not want or think they needed one. And he was sure they probably didn't to some extent but at least he was trying. He knew his brother would have done this for someone and he was trying to do more on how his brother was. Sure he wasn't perfect at it but he was trying. And maybe that's what this elf needed was someone willing to be there for them during the hard times.\n\nHe'd shake his head a bit, he really sometimes thought like his brother did. Just a little too late was all, but least the he was trying. That's what his brother would have wanted from him if nothing else was to just try and make a difference. He'd look down at them and cover them up a bit more just to keep them warm. It's all he needed to do for now." }, { "author": "Doctor Jones", "message": "Though the Doctor didn't manage to sleep, they weren't entirely awake either, drifting between that endless void between waking and sleeping for the rest of the night. They didn't think, they were barely conscious at all, one might think them asleep - but the moment the first rays of sunlight came over the horizon, they were woken up, one eye slowly opening, then the other.\n\nThe Doctor sat up, looking twice as groggy and tired as before they'd gone to rest. They yawned, made a motion to rub their eyes with both hands - and immediately let out a muffled groan of pain, breath hitching as they remembered what happened. What they did.\n\nTheir brow furrowed slightly as they sensed something. Had the sudden movement made them tear a stitch? No, that couldn't be it. It was much more likely that in their haste last night, they'd simply done one wrong, tied the knot too loosely. Either way, that didn't take away from the fact that they were once again bleeding.\n\nA sigh escaped them as the Doctor carefully began pulling up their right sleeves, all four layers - the sweater, the cardigan, the long-sleeved tunic they wore beneath, and lastly the bandages. Indeed, it was as they suspected, the stitch closest to the elbow had slipped away. Luckily, the wound wasn't bleeding all that badly, but it still needed to be closed up, and so that was exactly what they started to do, once more fetching the curved needle from their pocket and pushing it through the cool flesh of their arm without hesitation, as if it didn't hurt at all.\n_ _\n\nFor once, it seemed like the Doctor didn't mind Andreas seeing their scars, too preoccupied with fixing their mistake, the opposite end of the thread held in their teeth due to only having one hand available to sew. The criss-crossing lines were very numerous, and perhaps, on closer inspection, he might notice that the more recent the scars looked, the more severe they got in length and depth. At least they worked quickly, and within mere moments, the Doctor had finished their task, biting through the thread for the lack of scissors. Just like that, the stitch was done, and the wound was closed up again." }, { "author": "Andreas Featherfall", "message": "Andreas hasn't done any sleep or trying for that matter since he wanted to make sure they didn't try anything else. He let himself make the mistake one and that was as far as it was going to go. No, instead he'd just stayed up thinking about the past. A bit dangerous on his part but oh well he wasn't going to make someone talk that was tired. \n\nWatching the sunrise usually felt like a good thing, a new day and a better one right? But today he didn't feel that way. No, probably in all reality he was going to do something stupid later but so what? He'd done a lot of stupid before what was more? He'd shift slightly at them seeming to get up, seems their night would be closing soon.\n\nThe new scent of blood didn't bother him anymore as he just watched them work, he knew enough how to do something like that during a battle but to just do it was another. He didn't understand how they could but something told him they done it to themselves more than one should especially with scars that looks like they did on their arm. But it still wasn't his place to say anything about them. Instead he'd just let his wings stretch out as he waited to see what they wanted to do next." }, { "author": "Doctor Jones", "message": "Once they were done, the Doctor carefully wrapped their arm up in the bandages again, then equally carefully layered their clothes over it, covering everything up as if nothing had happened at all. Were it not for the scent of blood still in the air, one might even believe it.\n\nOnce everything was taken care of, they turned their head to look up at Andreas, examining him for a moment. He didn't seem to be doing all that great... A pang of guilt nestled in their chest and started growing, and the Doctor quickly averted their gaze. How could they have burdened him with such a thing? How very selfish of them. The shame in their body language was difficult to miss.\n\n\"I'm sorry... About everything,\" They muttered softly, looking down at their hands. \"I never wanted to cause you distress... Or burden you with all of this, you... You shouldn't have to deal with any of it. These are my problems, and...\" They trailed off, gripping their right underarm with their left hand, fingers digging into the barely healed wound. \"I'm sorry. I really am. I... Should go sooner rather than later.\"" }, { "author": "Andreas Featherfall", "message": "Andreas would do a bit of an opposite from what he should have. Laying his head down on their shoulder as he took a few deep breaths. None of this was their fault. What he was feeling was his own problems that didn't usually go away. He just hid them behind a mask that everything was just fine even when it wasn't.\n\nHe didn't think of them as a burden, stubborn little elf sure but not a burden. \"Stop being sorry for something that isn't your fault. I just... Some past came up when I saw you like that was all. I been fine once I drown myself in some Devil's Root.\" Though in reality he was wanting to more use it in a harmful way than not but not like they needed to know that. \"As for your problems, sure you probably need to deal with them but if your anything like me and I'm sure you are just because I see it you won't do it by yourself because you rather do it to hide or run away from something that overwhelms you.\" \n\nHe'd grab their left hand to kept them from hurting their wound more, lacing his fingers with theirs to keep their hand away from it. \"Let's not do that, okay? You aren't a bother to me or burden. I'm just simply tired of life at the moment because of the thoughts is all. You don't have to leave till you want to... I rather you stay till you are feeling up to actually moving and not being in too much pain.\"" }, { "author": "Doctor Jones", "message": "It was surprising when Andreas suddenly laid his head on their shoulder, but the Doctor found that they didn't mind so much, even if they worried their shoulder may be too uncomfortable to lay on. Maybe it was fine with all the layers they were wearing. Either way, they accepted the movement, closing their eyes for a few moments and taking some deep breaths.\n\nPart of them wanted to protest against his mention of the drug. Say that he shouldn't do that, that he shouldn't hurt himself. But that'd be hypocritical, wouldn't it? Quietly, they got a little closer, pushed themself slightly more against him, just wanting to be close to him right now. Why did they yearn for him so much? Why did they want him to be okay so badly? It was a strange feeling, one that sat inside their chest and hurt their heart, and they weren't exactly sure if they liked it.\n\nA sudden gasp as their hand was taken. As was normal for them, the Doctor froze momentarily before managing to relax a little. They hadn't had their hand held like that as far as they could remember, but... It was nice. Their fingers curled around Andreas' hand, accepting him holding theirs, lightly tracing their thumb over the back of his hand, hoping to comfort him a little. \"I don't want to go,\" They admitted softly, and gave his hand a light squeeze. \"I... I want to stay here with you.\" A short pause as they tucked their head away on his shoulder so that he couldn't see their face, and then admitted in a barely audible whisper; \"...You make me feel safe.\"" }, { "author": "Andreas Featherfall", "message": "Andreas didn't mind that their shoulder was like his for same comfort. For him it was enough just to be able to show maybe he was a little weak, that he needed this as well in the moment. It felt strange that he was doing it sure but he didn't mind this time.\n\nGetting high didn't sound bad but it definitely wasn't what he really wanted to do. No, he had other plans for it just wasn't something he would do around someone else. He'd chuckle a bit with him acting this way, he didn't fo this usually but for some reason he did maybe because he knew what he would do if they left? It would be a pitiful cry for help if it was.\n\n\"You're okay, I'm just holding you hand. No being mean or whatever just makes you stop toying with your wound.\" He would smile slightly as they traced their thumb over the back of his hand. It surprisingly felt nice, having just a little thing feel comforting. \"You don't have to go than, I'm not forcing you out. Stay as long as you want to. I'm no rush to really leave, it's nice just... Being with someone like this.\" Andreas would hear their last statement but he knew they probably didn't want him to hear it so he simply squeeze their hand back lightly." }, { "author": "Doctor Jones", "message": "Eyes closing, the Doctor just focused on the sensations around them, the warmth that came from being so close to another. How long had it been since they'd experienced this? Too long... And they clearly needed it. They decided not to worry about it for now and just enjoy the feeling, the sounds from all around them, from the sounds of the lake to any noise that came from Andreas whenever he shifted slightly. Their hand especially felt warm, and the way he was holding it was so nice... How could such a simple gesture be so comforting?\n\nThey had to nod in agreement to his statement, giving his hand another squeeze. It was a relief to hear that he wasn't going to make them leave, they really didn't want to go. Even if there were people waiting for them, even if they had responsibilities, none of that seemed to matter right now in this tiny world of just the two of them. What if they disappeared? Stayed here, with Andreas, and hid away from the rest of the world? It sounded so nice... But they couldn't do that, could they?\n\nA strange feeling overcame them, one that didn't show up but that they immediately recognized. \"I...\" The Doctor started softly, hesitantly. \"I think... I might want... Might want to eat something?\" They asked it as if it was a question, as if they weren't quite sure themself. \"If that's okay... But I'll be fine if it isn't.\"" }, { "author": "Andreas Featherfall", "message": "Andreas was starting to feel a bit better. He didn't understand why but this was helping him forget about the past in the moment and think more on the now. Though he was feeling some different types of emotions. He wanted them to just stay, let him be selfish, some also less than normal thought with a stranger. Maybe he was losing it just a little.\n\nGoddess help him he was jumping way too far ahead because he was feeling down. He needed to keep himself in check because they sure didn't feel like that just because. No, it just was nice being with someone, that's all it needed to be just comfort. Maybe this day wouldn't be so bad? It seemed least a bit better now with them wanting to stay a bit longer at least.\n\nAndreas couldn't help but chuckle softly at their question, they seemed a bit uncertain of their own want in the moment. Though he was glad they were wanting to eat, it was a good thing and not something he was going to say no to.* \"Of course that's okay, if you're hungry you should eat. It will help you get some strength back. Though I don't have a lot here. I got some meat I can cook and a kind of fresh bread I got the day before if that works, otherwise we will need to go back to the town.\"" }, { "author": "Doctor Jones", "message": "Even though Andreas had accepted the request, the Doctor still seemed hesitant to actually go on with it, letting out a soft grumble as they lowered their head, burying it in his chest. This had been an incredible struggle for them in the past couple of centuries, and if there was a way for them to survive without ever having to eat, they would do so immediately.\n\n\"I don't care what food it is,\" They said, looking more and more like they regretted the suggestion. \"I...\" More hesitation, a long pause. Were they really about to admit this? After everything... Didn't he deserve to know? \"I can't really taste food. At all.\" Another pause as they took a deep breath, squeezing Andreas' hand. \"I don't... Like eating. I know I have to, but...\" A slightly annoyed sigh. \"I hate it. It feels weird and uncomfortable and I wish I never had to do it.\" Well, now he knew some of the story at least - that should explain why they were this way, right?\n\nWhy they were being so honest with this person, the Doctor didn't know. Maybe it was because of that earlier admission that he seemed to not have heard, that they felt safe around him. Maybe it was because of the blood loss. Or maybe... Maybe they wanted him to be able to trust them? No, that made no sense at all, why would they think that? This was all so confusing... They let out a sigh, once more brushing their thumb over the back over Andreas' hand. It was all such a pain..." }, { "author": "Andreas Featherfall", "message": "Andreas would rub their head as he could see they didn't really know if they wanted to eat anymore. He didn't want them to feel bad about eating and it was hard for him to do as well at times since it wasn't the same since he always needed blood over normal food. It just made a lot of changes to get used to but it wasn't bad. \n\nSo they couldn't taste, well he knew one way that might help but didn't know if they would be up for trying it or not sure he couldn't make them just taste but he had read about spices ans citric flavors just helping out. \"Would you be okay trying stuff with more spices or citrus than? I read before it helps with one's who struggle eating without taste? And it's okay, we all have things that are different with. Just need to try right?\"" }, { "author": "Doctor Jones", "message": "Lips curled into a rare smile, but it wasn't a normal one. This one was dry, humorless, mocking the situation. \"Trust me, I've tried everything under the sun,\" The Doctor replied. \"Food combinations that you wouldn't even dare think of, but it's all the same to me. The only difference is how much effort it takes to chew.\" That smile faded as they let out a sigh. \"In this case... I genuinely advise to not put in the effort.\" It was all pointless anyway, why waste the energy?\n\nThere was one notable exception to their tasting problem, one that Andreas might be able to guess considering how they'd asked to drink his blood earlier, or maybe not. But the Doctor also knew better than anyone how unhealthy it was to actually consume blood, and it didn't exactly taste good anyway. It did taste like something, though, which put it leagues ahead of anything else.\n\nBetter not waste time, right? They reluctantly let go of Andreas' hand to carefully push themself to their feet, hiding a grimace at the pain that came with it. They still had no right to complain about it. \"Do you feel like preparing it, or should I?\" The latter was probably a bad option, considering they had no way to be certain if it was all properly cooked or not, but it was still better than nothing, wasn't it?" }, { "author": "Andreas Featherfall", "message": "\"Well if you tried it all and it didn't work than we will just make it so it has good nutrition to it. Red meats would help with your iron. The meat isn't tough and I got fresh to cook. Than the bread is multi grains so that will be good... We can do a sandwich for you. Nothing too difficult to chew. Andreas would pet their head as he was going to do his best to make at least a nutritional food that won't be too hard for them. If he could do a stew he would but that wasn't possible out here.\n\nHe thought maybe with the red meat he could have a bit of blood to it but nothing much. That was least the best option yes? He hoped it to be at least to be the best option. They shouldn't drink blood that much so it was wiser to do this.\n\nHe would let them get up before he would tap their shoulder lightly.* \"You sit down and rest, your arm is still sore and no reason for you to rip any more stitches. It's easy for me to make the food.\" Andreas would go over to his dug hole as he'd get out the meat and some bread before coming back to the fire." }, { "author": "Doctor Jones", "message": "Part of them wanted to protest. How could they justify letting Andreas care for them for the millionth time in the past 24 hours? But he was right. They wouldn't be of any help, and they'd only risk getting hurt even more - plus, with the blood loss and the fact that they hadn't eaten anything in a day and a half, there was a risk that they'd collapse if they started moving around too much, and they wouldn't want him to have to deal with that.\n\nSo, reluctantly, the Doctor sat back down and placed the blanket over their lap again, hoping to convey the message that they were planning to listen to his instructions for now. It was the least they could do, wasn't it? \"I'll be good,\" They muttered, absently picking some dirt off the blanket with their left hand, the right remaining held gently to their stomach.\n\nThey watched him as he grabbed the meat and bread, saying nothing to it, but they did decide to speak up about something else instead, to distract their mind. \"So... What do you have planned for the rest of today?\" Had they already asked it? They couldn't recall. Best ask it anyway." }, { "author": "Andreas Featherfall", "message": "Andreas would be glad they listened as he would start to make up the food. He would start to cut up the bread as he put the meat over the fire. He would need to make another warm drink but didn't know if coffee was a good idea for time.\n\n\"Do you want to have some more coffee? Or I can make something else, just don't know what you want to have. Also you don't need to act like I'm scolding you. I just want you to not be more hurt and you could if you tried helping.\" Andreas would look back at them and smile a bit. He also never minded cooking, he was kind of used to doing something like that.\n\nHe'd look over at them with the question as he thought about it. \"I didn't have any plans today, so we can just stay here.\" He'd smile as he keep cooking." }, { "author": "Doctor Jones", "message": "The Doctor watched him work without too much interest, absently wondering if what he was making looked at all appealing to a regular person. It had to, right? Otherwise people wouldn't be so eager to be eating all the time. Had it looked appealing to them, once upon a time? They could hardly remember.\n\nThey shook the thought out of their head and focused on what Andreas said instead, giving a vague shrug. \"I like warm drinks,\" They replied, and paused, adding a little more awkwardly; \"...I usually drink them with a lot of sugar to get some nutrients. I don't know why, just...\" They fiddled with their right sleeve, looking down at their hands. \"It doesn't bother me as much that way.\" Maybe it was because they didn't have to chew drinks. They had no way to be sure, and found it hard to care right now.\n\nAs Andreas looked at them, the Doctor looked back at him, a barely perceptible hopeful spark in their eyes. \"You... Wouldn't mind that?\" They asked, voice soft. Though they probably did have to leave somewhere today, the thought of being able to spend a little while longer here... It was one they quite liked for whatever reason." }, { "author": "Andreas Featherfall", "message": "Andreas would be a bit thinking on types of food that later maybe he could make, they didn't like to eat much that required a lot of chewing so he could make some more types of stews. He knew a few that his mother used to make when he was younger they were always healthy and good even when not feeling well. Maybe he could try making such things later on?\n\nHe'd shake his head a bit as he didn't know why he really was wanting to think about making meals, it wasn't like they were really that close but least this would be good. He knew the meat was tender so it should go good with a soft bread right? Least he was hoping it would be. He'd listen to their replies as he thought about it a bit, it did make a bit of sense.* \"Well I will make some more coffee for now. I don't have a lot else and good thing I do got sugar for it which helps I'm sure. I will think of some others to have on hand and get them. And it's okay, you don't have to feel awkward about being different. I'm sure without tasting it makes it more difficult to want to eat anything but we will just try to make this work today, okay?\"\n\n\"I don't mind, I have no plans for the day so you just rest as long as you want here. Whenever you eat to go back fine but till than don't worry about bothering me any. It's nice really getting to... Visit with someone... I...I made it a thing for a long time not to get close to others before... You kind of the first one I... Felt comfortable around\" Andreas would shrug as he didn't want to get too far into it. \"The Goddess I'm sure got some reason for this, don't know what though. She been more than generous with my past for me to have some good now.\"" }, { "author": "Doctor Jones", "message": "The only thing the Doctor truly wanted to do right now was disappear into the ground because of how surprisingly embarrassing this all was to admit. It was strange, usually they didn't care much what people thought of them, but with Andreas... They wanted him to like them. Why was that? What made him different from all the others? Talking to him about these things was simultaneously easy and so very difficult - none of it was making any sense, and it was incredibly frustrating.\n\n\"Coffee is good,\" They said, absently tracing a hand over the fabric of the blanket. \"It helps me stay awake.\" Were it not somewhat difficult to come by, they probably would be living off the stuff entirely. At least there were some advantages to their lack of taste - it prevented them from knowing how awful their preferred concoction of coffee and way too much sugar tasted.\n\nThey raised their gaze at Andreas' words, giving a curious tilt of the head. Was that true? Were they really the first he felt comfortable around? But why? What could they possibly have done to help him feel that way? Or was it because they were so broken themself, that he felt like they wouldn't judge as much as most? \"Goddess?\" They asked, deciding not to go into it and ask about the other part of his statement instead. \"I... Didn't guess you were the type to be religious.\" They tried their hardest to keep their judgement out of their voice, but couldn't entirely succeed - if there was one thing the Doctor didn't like, it was the gods." }, { "author": "Andreas Featherfall", "message": "Andreas would walk over to them after getting the food pretty well all finished. Just needing to get the sandwich put together but he thought he could do that once he sat down with them. Red meat always had a better taste to him since he left it a little bloody for himself. Though he did make sure it wasn't as blood for them. \n\n\"Glad coffee will be good for you. I do got enough sugar to help keep you awake with it.\" He'd sit down with them as he gave a smile. Handing over the coffee as he would make up two small sandwiches for them to eat. If they ate them both would be best but if not it would be okay. One was still enough to give some amount of nutrients.\n\n\"I feel comfortable around you since I haven't really tried being close with anyone in a long time and guess I just... It's nice connecting with someone and I like to hold you close for some reason.\" Andreas would look at them with a bit of a question look. Guess they didn't like the gods. \"Goddess Kamara... I don't really do religion, but... I wouldn't... Be this far if it wasn't for the Goddess. I'm not exactly your normal Aasimar, I'm fallen so I... Lost a lot because of it.\"" }, { "author": "Doctor Jones", "message": "The coffee was accepted without hesitation, and the Doctor lightly blew over the edge to cool the liquid down enough to make it drinkable and not burn their mouth - the irony of which, considering last night's events and the pain they willingly inflicted on themself, wasn't lost on them. Still, they sipped it quietly, and then rested the cup on their left knee, continuing to hold it with one hand to prevent it from spilling.\n\nThey watched as Andreas prepared the food, expression impossible to read, deliberately so. Wouldn't want him to know what they were thinking, after all - for whatever reason, they didn't want to upset him by mentioning just how Unappealing The food looked. A moment later, the Doctor averted their gaze and decided to take a look at their surroundings instead, by daylight this time.\n\n\"I don't... Mind being held by you,\" They admitted, even if it was an understatement of how they truly felt - they adored the feeling, and wished Andreas would hold them like that more, hell, they'd be happy to just be able to lean against him as they talked or ate. It'd certainly make the latter a lot easier.\n\nBut they didn't express that.\n\nInstead, the Doctor just looked at Andreas as he continued talking, curiosity clear on their face. \"Fallen?\" They questioned, not familiar with the subject. \"What do you mean by that?\" Best focus on that instead of religion - most people didn't like their disdain for the gods." }, { "author": "Andreas Featherfall", "message": "Andreas would set the food in front of them once he was done with with it before he'd move. Wanting to hold them again so he'd move to be behind them as he gently pulled them back against his chest. Still minding their arm this time as he would hold them gently with his left arm, sipping his coffee himself now.\n\nHopefully they would try eating a bit even if it didn't look good to them. They needed even just a bit to help them but he wouldn't force them into doing it if they really didn't want to because of the look of food. He'd instead just rub the top of their head as he wanted them to not feel pressured into any of it.\n\n\"I be honest... I like holding you it just feels relaxing... And it feels like I can trust someone.\" Andreas would sigh at having to talk about being a fallen but it was still true. \"Fallen is a simple term, there is a more technical one but it pretty much means that I turned away from being good. I was no longer the piller of good others see a aasimar instead I was more evil... Like a tiefling... Like the tiefling that took my brother... I'm not... A good person, I'm really far from it. I... I did a lot of bad things, I killed and tortured... And other things I don't want to get into really. I turned my back on everyone who was in my life because I wanted... I wanted to destroy the tiefling race. When a aasimar falls from the Goddess Kamara good graces we lose everything that made us a Aasimar. I lost my family, my fiancée, my wings, my pureness, my ability to heal. I was lost for a long time. Time that made me lose who I was and who my brother wanted me to be.\" Andreas would start to fiddle with his ring once again as he'd never shared any of this before. \"I have a lot of blood on my hands, a lot of wrongs I can't fix. When I finally... Came to my senses it was too late to go home, to try and make things right there. So, I exiled myself... Swore to never be with anyone and just try to redeem myself... Till I meet you.\"\n\nAndreas didnt know why he was sharing so much, maybe because he needed to tell someone. He just hoped they wouldn't hate him. If they wanted him gone he would leave, he wouldn't blame them if they did. He wasn't a good person, not really." }, { "author": "Doctor Jones", "message": "The Doctor didn't protest as Andreas went to hold them again, only shifting slightly to make themself a little more comfortable. This time, they didn't even freeze at the sudden contact, and only rested their head against his chest as their eyes fell shut for a few moments - they were clearly very comfortable like this, and they were getting used to it.\n\nThough they looked at the food, they didn't actually made any attempt to start eating it, more curious about what Andreas was talking about. It was a very interesting tale, and they kept quiet as he talked, only looking at him. There was no judgement in their gaze, no, it was hard to see what they were thinking about, but it didn't seem to be anything bad - though they could just be deliberately keeping their reaction neutral.\n\nIt was hard to know how to respond. The Doctor looked down, gently placing their left hand over their right harm, this time not to harm, but more because their thoughts drifted back to their own troubles. Their own past history... Which was awfully similar in some ways. They didn't share it, but perhaps it allowed them to empathize more than a regular person would. Perhaps a regular person may have called him a monster, cast him away for what he just admitted to... They couldn't do that.\n\nThe Doctor raised their left hand and reached out to take Andreas' hand, gently intertwining their fingers - if he let them, of course. \"I... Don't know what to say to that,\" They admitted softly. \"I don't know if there's anything that would be appropriate to say.\" A soft sigh, a short pause. \"I just... Know that love... It can make one do awful things.\" Another brief pause. \"I can't claim I know what it was like for you... But I can assume that I know better than most what it is like... And how terrible it must feel.\"" }, { "author": "Andreas Featherfall", "message": "Andreas didnt know what they would say, would they hate him? He did hope they wouldn't but it was hard to know what they were going to do. He was glad they seemed comfortable around him before he had started to talk about everything. Sure he was wanting them to ear but they seemed to want to listen to him for now.\n\nHe'd leave them be with not eating as he would talk. It just seemed to be a lot he needed get out. Though once he was done he did bring the plate closer before he'd look at them holding his hand. He'd smile as it felt nice getting to hold hands with someone again even if it might not be for long. He'd squeeze their hand slightly as he signed, he did feel better from actually telling someone.\n\n\"It's isn't exactly... Normal information about a person... Yeah... Love doesn't make us do... Some awful things. I can't even see my family because of it now... Don't even know if I have any family left to be honest. Thank you for listening and... Not just hating me... I am trying to be better now, not make such mistakes now.\" Andreas would sign again as he pulled them a little closer, but still was gentle." }, { "author": "Doctor Jones", "message": "How could they possibly hate him? After everything they'd done... As long as Andreas was trying to be better, the Doctor had no reason to even consider hating him for his past mistakes, no matter how awful they'd been. Going mad for the sake of a beloved family member... They knew exactly what that was like.\n\nIt was relieving when he accepted the gesture and held their hand, even if it didn't leave a hand free so that they could eat. The Doctor was reminded of why they couldn't use their right when they were pulled closer, a sharp pain shooting through their arm and they inhaled sharply before settling down again. \"Don't pull away,\" They muttered quickly, wanting the comfort of being held and not minding the pain so much.\n\nThey tilted their head back slightly to look up at Andreas, watching him for a moment or two. \"As long as you're trying to be better... I don't mind what you did in the past.\" They lowered their head again to rest it against his chest, letting out a deep breath. Despite it all, they still seemed relaxed around him, and not at all afraid. \"As long as you're not hurting anyone nowadays, I have no right to judge.\" There was no judgement in their voice or body language either, the Doctor was perfectly calm and seemed completely at ease around Andreas." }, { "author": "Andreas Featherfall", "message": "Andreas would chuckle a bit as they really caught him off guard a lot, he didn't mind it but it still left a lot of his own questions for why. But that was all things he didn't need to worry about for now. It just felt almost good that he told someone a bit and they didn't hate him for it. Least not as his family had when they found out. He supposed it was why he didn't talk about it before because of how his family had completely erased him from their lives and even their family book. It's why he'd never tried to reach out later as to them he was dead or didn't exist, a cruel way of doing it but he couldn't change it. He hadn't even been to his home in over a century.\n\nHe'd be concerned when they inhaled sharply as he looked down at them. They really did need that treated but flying with it hurt like that wouldn't help with the pain any. Probably just make it worse, they really needed to heal it once they got some more strength back. \"I won't pull away but doesn't mean I'm not going to not worry about it. You do need that treated better eventually so it isn't so bad. No matter how good you are at fixing it it still needs some rightly fixing to heal it faster and numb the pain.\" Andreas really didn't have any hands free either with holding their left and his right holding them close. He still wanted them to eat but maybe something to deal with a bit later.\n\n\"Don't worry I'm not... Blood thirsty like that anymore. I don't want to be like that anymore. Now... A tree or something hard gets the bad feelings than a person would. I done enough damage that most don't know about. Thank you for... Being okay around me still. And don't worry about any religion talk, I don't really talk or do a lot of that. I'm still not on great terms with the Goddess I just... Still have some reason to be loyal to her... Even if it's hard to be... I do have some things back that I didn't before. I'm just... Less shinny now.\" He would chuckle a bit as something came to mind a bit. \n-\n\n\"I guess I look as rough as I am now. Wings, hair, and eyes all show it compared to the pure white and blonde we usually have. Well... Least I think I look as rough as I feel. I actually can't see what I look like. I mean I'm sure I look mostly like I did before but I honestly don't know. Not seeing your own reflection makes that part a bit harder to know.\"" }, { "author": "Doctor Jones", "message": "\"The pain will get better in a few days. It always does.\" The Doctor gazed down at the wound hidden beneath their bandages and clothing, feeling it ache with every slight movement, every beat of their heart. At least the bandages wrapped around it prevented the clothes from rubbing against the wound, making it much more bearable than it usually was. \"I...\" They sighed, shoulders slumping slightly. \"Being honest, I doubt you'll be able to convince me to get it treated. If I wanted it to hurt less... I'd just heal it myself.\" A short pause. \"...I'm sorry.\"\n\nThey looked back up at Andreas, watching him speak about religion. It made sense, what he said. Kind of. To most, it was incredibly difficult to let go of their religions, it being something that someone had followed their entire life. So it was understandable that Andreas still felt some attachment to it, even if they couldn't agree with it. \"As long as you're trying to be better now, I won't judge your past,\" The Doctor told him, tracing their thumb over the back of his hand, following the metacarpus of his pinky finger, up and down and up again. \"I won't say I like the religion talk... As one who is forsaken by the gods, I don't like them very much, but I suppose it's okay. I just won't have anything insightful to say.\" Perhaps they weren't actually forsaken by the gods, but it certainly felt that way to them, and so that was what they called it.\n_ _\n\nAt Andreas' next statement, the Doctor pulled away slightly and turned their body around to take a good look at him. They were quiet for a little bit, eyes glancing over his face, his body, his wings, anything they could make out from their position. \"I don't think you look bad,\" They decided eventually, leaning back against him again. \"Quite the opposite, actually.\" Eyes fell shut for a few moments before a sudden realization hit them and the Doctor perked up again, wincing as they did but ignoring the pain. \"So the rumor that vampires don't have a reflection is true?\" They paused, brow furrowing. \"If you'd like to know what you look like, then... I can make an attempt to draw you.\"" }, { "author": "Andreas Featherfall", "message": "\"Maybe it will but I don't think you will want to stay that long. And flying is the only way out and it's not exactly a smooth no movement type thing.\" Andreas would frown slightly but it wasn't anything he could do, he wouldn't judge. He'd simply squeeze thier hand as it was okay. \"Maybe... Doesn't mean I won't try though least a little. Not always do we deserve to have scars, sometimes we deserve to have them healed even if we don't believe it ourselves.\"\n\nAndreas would smile at them as it was just how he lived with religion. He sure wasn't perfect but he still had enough reason to believe even if he wanted to think differently because of his brother. \"My past is... Messy, very messy after a certain point. But I try to forget about it and move forward. No use staying in a cave and starving myself just because I think it's what I deserve... I got a second chance so... Why waste it?\" He liked having them tracing their thumb along his hand, it felt good having such a small connection with someone. \"Forsaken I can understand... Kamara did the same to me during the time I was a fallen. But she gave me another opportunity, another chance to find some happiness. I know she's real because well... I wouldn't have met you. And well... It might feel you are but... Maybe it's more just lost? Sure I don't plan to push you with it but maybe that's more what it is.\" He'd shrug as he could be wrong but it wasn't his place to force them to believe or any such. He wasn't no saint to say otherwise. Just someone living now with some believe.\n\nHe'd raise a brow at them turning to look at him. He couldn't help but chuckle a bit at them studying his features because of what he'd said, it was amusing a bit because of their words. \"Never said I looked bad, just rough. But glad you find me good look, can't tell what others think too often by a glance. Yes, I have no reflection, which is probably a good thing since I can't see my brothers face then after messing up.\"\n\n\"After a century you just get used to not seeing yourself... Just learn you look however to everyone and it won't change properly... Thank you for the offer but I'm okay. I won't stop you if you wish to draw me but I don't need it. I made my choice knowing what would happen so I will live with it.\" He had no reason to feel bad about seeing how much he'd changed. He'd heard over the years some of his features which some had been shocking to know but some he just expected." }, { "author": "Doctor Jones", "message": "\"Well... So be it.\" The Doctor wasn't exactly going to care about the pain moving around caused. Sure, it hurt, and they weren't going to be happy about it, but it was what they deserved, wasn't it? After what they'd done to so many innocent people... This didn't even approach a percentage of the pain they deserved. \"You won't notice anyway if there's a scar more or less at this point... Why would you care?\" They really did seem to be trying to make Andreas dismiss the issue.\n\nThey looked at him when he spoke again, but had to avert their gaze - it was too painful. That thought... The thought that he was able to overcome his past to some extent, while they remained stuck in it, they couldn't stand it. The Doctor let out a deep sigh and let their eyes fall shut, deciding not to dwell on it - it'd only cause unnecessary pain.\n\n\"They've never listened to my prayers,\" The Doctor said, unable to stop disdain from creeping into their voice. \"No matter what I did, they never did a thing. They neither aided nor punished me - why should I believe in them?\" It was considered a harsh stance to take by many, but it was one they wholeheartedly believed. \"I don't attribute our meeting or anything to the gods. It's all random chance.\" Actually, speaking of that meeting... \"Can you give me back my scalpel? I do have some work to do tomorrow that I may require it for.\" Something like that was much more important to them than the discussion on religion, that was for sure.\n_ _\n\nThey reopened their eyes, tilting their head back to look up at him. \"I was planning to draw you anyway.\" The Doctor pulled their hand away from Andreas and went fishing through their pockets to grab the notepad once again. A bit clumsily with one hand, they flipped through the pages until they'd found a drawing of a face, showing it to him. It was an Elven woman, possessing an icy cold beauty, her face pale and her eyes light. There was a faint smile tugging at her lips, which brightened up her entire face and prevented her from looking as cold as she could have looked. She was gorgeous, and so was the drawing, which would have been lifelike if it hadn't been done in black and white. \"It'd be like that, but with your face instead,\" The Doctor said, with a faint shrug. \"It's whatever you want. I don't care either way.\"" }, { "author": "Andreas Featherfall", "message": "Andreas couldn't help but chuckle at their stubbornness at needing not to be healed. It didn't mean he didn't want it to not be that way. \"Well I will notice it and I want you to not be in pain. You shouldn't be in pain because of past mistakes... Though I can't say too much about it either since at times I have done the exact same thing... Just... I use not a blade to do it. But if you don't want it treated I can't stop you so do as you want with it.\"\n\nHe would move his hand to rub their head to comfort them a bit. It was okay if they didn't believe the same he did. \"The Goddess didn't bring back my brother either... She did punish me though so they do exist... But it's maybe different for each race.\" He'd shrug as he would move his head to rest on their shoulder, wrapping his arm once again around them. \"You can have it back once we leave, till than it's staying hidden. I won't forget about it.\"\n\nAndreas would look down at them as he saw them starting to get their notebook, looking at the drawing he was very impressed. He didn't see a drawing like that by just anyone, they were very talented. \"You are very talented, and well if you want to draw me you can. I won't protest if that's something you wish to do.\"" }, { "author": "Doctor Jones", "message": "Andreas' words continued falling on deaf ears - really, the Doctor was getting a little annoyed by his insistence, though they didn't express it, not wanting to risk annoying him in turn. He didn't seem to understand that was not at all how it worked, that they couldn't fix it just like that, that that would defeat the entire purpose of such an act. They took a breath, and didn't say anything else on the topic, deciding it'd be best to just move on.\n\n\"Well... Even if they are real, I'm still not a believer.\" The Doctor let out a soft huff and leaned their head to the side, resting it against Andreas' as he rested his on their shoulder. \"I don't need their aid in my life.\" Despite their harsh words, the way they leaned into him was much gentler, the way they seemed to appreciate his touches the exact opposite of what they were saying. \"I do need it back. Getting things like that custom-made... It's a massive pain.\" Though they didn't state it, Andreas would probably able to guess from how they favored their left hand for just about anything that that was the reason why they had to get tools such as those made just for them.\n\nThey closed the notepad again, shaking their head slightly and making sure to be gentle enough about it that Andreas wouldn't want to remove his head from their shoulder. \"It's not talent. I've just had a lot of time to practice. It's... Something I use to help me not fall asleep.\" They paused, sighing. Actually, if this... Whatever it was was going to evolve, it'd probably be best to warn him about it. \"I suppose I should tell you that I have a tendency to fall asleep at... Inopportune times during the day. I don't know why, but if it happens, it's normal, nothing to worry about. You can wake me, or let me sleep, whichever is better at the time.\" With that, they stuffed the thing back into their pocket and placed their left hand over the arm wrapped around them, content to just hold it gently." }, { "author": "Andreas Featherfall", "message": "\"You don't have to believe in them, it's not something you have to believe in it's just how I feel on them.\" Andreas didn't mind if they had a different opinion on the gods or even if they didn't want to get fixed up. It just all in all was just the way it was going to be. Sure he knew that he couldn't just change it for them but maybe someday they might try to.\n\nHe would drop though saying anything back for the scalpel. They can say they want it back but it won't be yet. Not till they leave was he going to do it. But he understood why they wanted it when it was custom-made. Andreas had been taught to use both his hands in fighting and writing but even he favored one hand over the other.\n\nHe wasn't going to take their word on it not being talent when it still was. He knew it was talent even if they said there was none at all just because they did it to stay awake. \"Practice still makes talent, but you can say what you want since it's your work. It's fine if you can't stay awake always, it's not like I can't make sure you are fine during that time.\" Andreas would shrug as he didn't really mind, it wasn't exactly the worst type of thing someone could do. He'd take his coffee and sip on it a bit as he knew the food probably was just going to be forgotten now. No reason to being it up and make it any argument." }, { "author": "Doctor Jones", "message": "It was kind of surprising that Andreas didn't seem the least bit annoyed about how little they cared about the gods - most religious types seemed to be very off-put by the mere notion alone that someone could be not at all interested in religion. It was... Nice. The Doctor really was glad to see it. \"Well... I suppose it is a good thing to have something to believe in,\" They said with a faint shrug. Maybe it would have helped them if they could believe in such a thing... Maybe not. There was no way to know for sure now.\n\n\"It's not really a matter on if it is fine or not,\" The Doctor replied softly, \"Suppose I just... Want to make sure you know. So that I don't scare you by accident.\" Why did they care about that again? Who even knew at this point, they'd been acting strange in every meeting with this man that they could remember.\n\nThe food hadn't been exactly forgotten, no, it was different - they'd lost what little appetite they had, and now were hoping that Andreas wouldn't bring it up. The Doctor absently continued tracing their fingers over his arm, enjoying the warmth of his body. \"I... Do think I should go soon,\" They told him reluctantly, really not wanting to leave, not while they were this comfortable. \"But... I do hope we will meet again... Some day.\"" }, { "author": "Andreas Featherfall", "message": "\"It's not exactly a believe in, I just... I have seen her more than once show herself to me. But again it's just something I have seen.\" He didn't plan to say much more on it as it was just going to be matter. Instead he just let it be as he looked up at the now morning sun. Guess it was going faster than he thought.\n\n\"Well thank you for telling me so I wouldn't be surprised by it. Though as long as your heart isn't down too far it won't worry me to the point of full panic. I would have just tried to wake you up.\" He was glad they seemed to trust him a bit with such information. It did help more than they would probably know. \n\nHe'd nod as he understood it was probably time for them to go soon. Shifting a bit as he kind of got ready to go if they were ready for it. \"Of course, I'm more than willing to meet again at some point. We just will have to see whenever we do meet up again. Though hopefully will he on better terms this next time. We seem to always meet on bad days, not that it's a bad thing.\"" }, { "author": "Doctor Jones", "message": "\"Waking me up does seem to be the best bet,\" The Doctor said with a nod, \"Though I may be confused when I do wake up.\" A short pause. \"Then again... Who isn't confused when they first wake up?\" Why were they even telling Andreas about all of this? What were the chances of the two of them ever meeting again? Probably small... But they wanted him to know, though they knew not why.\n\nA reluctant sigh escaped them. Indeed, it was time to go, they still had a decent amount of work to do, and it wasn't going to finish itself. The Doctor held their right arm steady as they used their left to push themself off the ground, getting up slowly and carefully, holding back a groan. At least they didn't collapse this time.\n\n\"Let's hope so,\" They agreed, partially because of how embarrassing it was to be seen this way. \"I... Wouldn't mind seeing you again.\" This was something said with an air of awkwardness about it, with them averting their gaze as they did so. \"You can just take me to the mainland, I'll find my way back from there.\" Wouldn't want to make things more difficult on Andreas, after all." }, { "author": "Andreas Featherfall", "message": "\"Well no matter how you are when you fall asleep and wake up I will still make sure its not to the extent of startling you.\" He'd give a small smile as he didn't want them to think he thought anything bad with it, sure it wad worrying but maybe it was a condition he didn't know about it. Though he was guessing it probably was more from their lack of being healthy. Either way he wasn't going to judge any.\n\nHe didn't really want to leave either but it was probably a good thing. That way they could get to any work they might have and he could go looking for some work again. Maybe getting one before their next meeting would be nice. Andreas would make sure to watch them, being ready to catch them if they did get dizzy or something but they seemed to do fine. He'd go over to his hiding spot and get their scalpel for them before walking back over and giving it to them.\n\n\"I think there is no hoping, I think we will meet again but yes less on a bad day would be nice. No, I'm taking you to where you need to go. This way I know you are safe and where you are needed without just collapsing somewhere.\" He was still concerned about them and collapsing from the blood lose even if they got up easily this time. But that was just something he was worried about with them more.\n\nAndreas had taken the back close to were they wanted to be before heading out to do his own thing. Looking around for work and doing some other work with getting some more of Devil's Root and Reverie Sticks as he was getting a bit low in his stash. He also had heard about a new blood wine from the vine and decided to get some himself.\n\nHe'd been busy and not tried the wine the day or a few days after as he simply got busy. Usually he would have tried it but this time he just didn't. Having one day around a week later on would decide to have some. Not getting the scent of Vervain before he'd chugged a full glass of it and feeling the effects after as he'd drop the glass before looking at the bottle with distain. He knew what it was and needed to get to the bottom of it. \n\nHeading out he'd go to the new place and it hadn't been pleasant to say the least. He found out someone was targeting them and used the blood wine to do it. He should have just killed them there but he was at a weakened state so he couldn't. Getting the list of ones who got the wine was all he could do before reporting it to someone else to deal with the pervider. No, he needed to act fast to get all that wine destroyed. Setting off to do just that even if he was dealing with the effects himself.\n\nAfter a long time of making sure all of it was done and having a less than idea trip, he dealt with some other moles, having to fight and deal with the ones he could though it ended with being more badly effected by the vervain. Finally making his way home as he tried to make it back to his home. Though that wasn't easy with being weak and feverish. He couldn't remember the last time he'd been this bad and he wasn't thinking very clearly. He'd more crash into a alleyway as he'd tried to pick himself up, this wasn't a good place to be since he'd not had blood in too long of a time frame. He knew his complextion was also paler now and he had more injuries than he could deal with either.\n\nHe couldn't heal himself with his vampirism and hadn't been eating in some time either. He all in all was in rough shape and he didn't like being in a populated area in case something happened." }, { "author": "Doctor Jones", "message": "Andreas. Why couldn't they get that name out of their head? No matter what they were doing, if they let their thoughts slip, the Doctor always found their mind drifting back to him. The couple of nights they'd spent with him, the conversations they'd had, the way he'd held them close in a way they hadn't been held in ages, all of it was engrained in their memory. He showed up in their dreams a lot too, and they were almost starting to look forward to falling asleep so that they could see him again - because he sure as hell wasn't showing up in the real world anymore.\n\nThey had been looking for him. Visited the spot where they'd met last time occasionally, wandered around the area, even considered going to his island but ultimately decided against it - mostly because they didn't have an easy way to cross the lake. And yet... Andreas remained missing. Maybe it had been a fluke. Maybe he'd grown tired of their nonsense and moved on, or he was avoiding them. Frankly, the Doctor would not blame him, even if it did hurt. They wouldn't want to deal with their mess either - and so they tried to be fine with the fact that he wasn't there. That he'd be gone.\n\nUntil they ran into him again.\n\nThey'd been in town for some unrelated business. Run some errands, nothing special, but as per usual when they went out, they suddenly felt that faint tug at the edge of their senses, the one that indicated that someone was hurt. Badly hurt too. Immediately, they stopped what they were doing, turned around, and started sprinting in that direction as fast as they could.\n_ _\n\nIt didn't take them long to find the person in question, but what was surprising was who it was. Panting, the Doctor paused for a brief moment while standing at the edge of the street, eyes widened. Their breath hitched. It looked like they were about to panic, but their instincts as a doctor took over, and Doctor Jones rushed forward, crouching down in front of him and examining his wounds. It seemed quite bad, but it was nothing they couldn't fix. Though something was curious... He seemed to have internal damage of some kind, as if he'd swallowed something acidic. Something to ask about later. For now, he needed to be healed." }, { "author": "Andreas Featherfall", "message": "Andreas had managed to least get himself pulled up to be sitting position at least, though he had not energy left to get himself home which made him concerned. He didn't like being out in the open like this even if it was in a back alley. Someone could still happen to find him and if too close he might attack. Though he also might just be too far out of it to do much of anything. Andreas would wince a bit as he moved, trying to lean against the wall was better than just being on the ground. He might be able to see someone get close but his senses were so dulled he didn't know if he even could.\n\nHow long had it been since he'd fed or tried even drinking anything? He couldn't really remember since it became hard to handle anything going down his throat. Maybe he should have tried for a doctor, though what do you even say? It wasn't like he could just tell anyone he was a vampire and he really didn't want to try compelling someone to help him only for it to break and turn bad quickly. He should have probably gotten help sooner but he didn't want innocent vampires to die just because someone was after them. Though he found out more were than he likes and it wasn't easy tracking down the ones he could to pass on. Least he got rid of the wine. It's what he wanted done the most. It really was their main weakness besides the sun and not easy to detect in blood when you don't know about it.\n\nAndreas would just put his head against the wall as he tried to concerve some of his energy. He couldn't stay here no matter how little energy he had. It wasn't safe. He needed to get back to the island. Least there he could try sleeping in his tent and try letting himself heal, very slowly. He didn't really want to trust blood wine either... Maybe why he'd yet to drink any blood. It was painful enough without someone tainting it worse. He'd hear something but it didn't sound right to him, more muffled like. Maybe he needed to rest longer than he thought.\n\nWhat Jones would see wasn't good, his wounds were bad both inside and outside. The inside sure not easy see but for the outside he had severe burns as well as plenty of blade cuts. He'd been in quite of few fights and none of them were healing like they should, they probably were a lot slower really in healing because if his weakened state. Of course the fever he has wasn't helping any with the wounds since he was covered in sweat and dirt that was mixed with it from falling. He honestly looked like he'd fallen after a battle which wasn't completely far off. The ground kind of showed the falling from the sky part. \n\nAndreas would open his eyes a bit though his vision wasn't very good at the moment but someone was there, with white hair? He thought he was seeing right at least. He needed to tell them to leave. That they were in danger if they stayed neat him but he just didn't have enough strength left to even warn them and make them leave." }, { "author": "Doctor Jones", "message": "Doctor Jones' medical expertise came in quite handy here, partially for the expected reasons, but also for the reason that it kept them calm and prevented them from panicking, which was quite rare for most in situations like these. It allowed them to push their fear and worry to the background and focus on the facts, the cold hard facts. The locations of the injuries, the severity of them, all of it.\n\nSomething else was noticeable too - he looked paler than usual, and when they reached out their hand and touched his cheek, it seemed that his skin was colder than normal too, something they immediately noticed due to being so close to him so many times. Was it due to the blood loss? Or something else? Examining his wounds revealed something else concerning as well: they weren't healing. The previous time they'd seen him hurt, with the cut in his palm, it had healed itself rather quickly, but that wasn't happening right now.\n\nThen there were those burns on the inside of his throat... Had he been poisoned somehow? It would explain it all. It also seemed like he hadn't been drinking enough blood, considering the paleness and how weak he was... Why was that?\n\nNo, the exact causes didn't matter right now. What mattered was fixing everything, but how? Knitting all the wounds together was certainly feasible, but would that be the most efficient way, or would it be better to feed Andreas some blood and then let his body do most of the work while helping heal the worst wounds? Did they know enough of vampires' biology to try it? Did they even have a choice? There was no way they could fix everything on their own, not in the state they were in - they needed to risk it. Even if it was going to make him mad at them afterwards.\n_ _\n\nDoctor Jones pulled down their right sleeve slightly to expose the veins in their wrist, and like before, brushed their thumb over one to open it up. This time, however, the blood didn't keep flowing, but with the use of their left hand, they manipulated the blood so that it started hovering in the air. They took a deep breath, closed the wound, then pulled Andreas' chin down with their right hand to open his mouth and force the blood inside, covering his mouth and nose with a surprisingly strong grip to make him swallow. It was a little lower on nutrients than most, if he was able to detect that at all, but blood was blood, and it should help.\n\nWith that done, they started to work on healing the most major wounds, at the very least preventing them from bleeding any more. It was a painful process, weeks of healing crammed into one moment, but it was effective, even if sweat started pearling on Doctor Jones' forehead with the amount of effort it took. There was no way they were going to stop, though. Andreas needed them, and for whatever reason, they were desperate not to lose him." }, { "author": "Andreas Featherfall", "message": "Andreas didn't know why this person seemed to stick around. He wasn't exactly moving a lot and he sure wasn't in a place to dealing with anything either. He didn't exactly care for the examination that he was getting but maybe it was a good thing? It meant a doctor right? He didn't know for sure though as he could hardly just ask when his throat felt as if it was on constant fire from the burns. About like how the rest of them felt just like...5 times worse as ever swallow and breath made the pain come back. \n\nAndreas didn't know what they were doing, he was trying to focus on who it was and what was going on but it wasn't exactly working. His body was pretty much doing the opposite for everything he wanted. It's why he'd crashed in the first place which still made him annoyed some. He could see them doing something with their arm he thought but didn't realize what fully till the scent of blood hit him. He needed to get away before something happened, why were they drawing blood so close to him?! He didn't want to be the cause for something bad to happen and the scent made him feel dread. He wanted to fight against the scent and their touch against his chin, but he had no strength. He was forced to drink the blood as it burned down his throat. He would have his eyes closed to the pain as his hands curled into fists a bit as he jerked back a bit. Though that was as much of a fight he had in him.\n\nHe thought maybe it was done, it didn't seem to have vervain in it but it still had hurt to swallow. He could maybe heal some given time but he was plenty weak. Though that didn't last long before he felt worse pain, he couldn't help but groan a bit from the pain as his fangs bit down into his lip. What was this person doing to him? He didn't think there was any poison and he didn't think any Devil's Root yet the pain was horrible for the moment. How could someone just easily do that. Maybe it was what he deserved for the past he had done." }, { "author": "Doctor Jones", "message": "They hated that they were hurting him. It was obvious that Andreas was in pain from their treatments, and even if it did seem to be helping a little, was it enough? Was it enough with how much they were causing him harm? Usually, Doctor Jones wouldn't care all that much, it was for the sake of the patient getting healed, but right now... It hurt to see him like that, and for once, they wished their treatment methods were less harsh.\n\nThey paused their healing for a few moments to let out a deep exhale, their breath shaky and black spots dancing in front of their eyes. He didn't seem to be in life-threatening danger anymore, so maybe it'd be best to take a very short break and then continue healing him? Check up on his condition, see if he was awake. Technically, he was awake, they knew that, but was he aware? Only one way to find out.\n\nDoctor Jones raised their hand to cup his cheek, moving their face relatively close to his and ignoring how it made their heart beat faster - that had to be the exertion. \"Andreas?\" They called out to him, voice a little louder than it usually was. \"Can you hear me? I know it hurts, and I'm sorry, but I'm trying to save your life. Is there anything else I can do for you? Anything at all?\" A hint of fear crept into their voice, no matter how much they tried to keep it down. \"Whatever it is, just tell me... Please.\" If he didn't, they'd have to continue healing him, something that may take more out of them than they could affort - but if it was necessary, they would do it." }, { "author": "Andreas Featherfall", "message": "Andreas would try to just get through the pain as it lasted, he didn't know how long it would last and even what was happening. Maybe this was a good thing but his mind couldn't see it as good yet only pain. He wanted to get away from it but he was backed against a wall so he really couldn't. Maybe it would just end. He doubted he'd black out even though he wanted to. For some reason that was harder to do for him when in pain. Maybe it was a vampire thing or just from his upbringing, who knew for sure.\n\nAndreas took a few moments to notice that the pain stopped, someone exhaled? His senses seemed to be back a bit better now even if he didn't feel like it. Whatever just had happened seemed it was good. Once the pain stopped he didn't feel... As much? How was that even possible? It didn't seem right that pain would than make no pain unless there was a worse type of would but he didn't think that was the case.\n\nHe would flinch slightly at the touch, apparently not too aware yet at his surroundings it seemed he would think. They knew his name? He'd open his eyes as he tried to focus, someone was in front of him and knew him, they were also seeming to be helping. His mind was still working a bit slow as it took longer than should have for him to understand the questions and start to kind of register who was in front of him. Jones, they were here, and helping him? He didn't want them to see him in this state. He was literally at his weakest state. Trying to not get lost with his thoughts he'd nod slightly after a bit of time, he did hear them. He didn't really have a lot he could need. Just a bed really and rest. He felt like he still was recovering from a bolder landing on his but it didn't feel as painful at least. \"Just... A bed... You look bad... As I feel... Just rest and... I will recover.\" It was hard to speak still but he needed to make sure they didn't push themselves any more. Both of them didn't need to be down right now in an unsafe area\n\nHe'd try giving a small smile to show he was okay just tired and sure hurt but most could just be bandaged till they healed on their own. Going to an inn or something was enough for now. They weren't safe outside like this and he knew it wasn't good if both couldn't even move if they pushed it. No, it was better this way." }, { "author": "Doctor Jones", "message": "The relief they felt when Andreas confirmed he was okay was almost enough to make them collapse, but Doctor Jones persisted, only leaning forward and pressing their forehead against his for a few moments, allowing their breathing to slow and them to calm down. He was aware. Though weakened, he was still talking. He would be okay. He'd be fine. They almost wanted to cry tears of joy.\n\nBut, they didn't. Instead, they pulled away after a few moments and pushed themself to their feet. Indeed, some place with a bed where he could recover would be the best right now - whatever had hurt him could still be nearby, and they wouldn't want him to get attacked again. Luckily, they knew of a place that wasn't too far away... But how to get there?\n\nThey could in no way support him, if he leaned on them, they'd probably flop over and collapse completely without even putting up the slightest bit of a fight. So then what? \"Can you walk?\" Doctor Jones asked, uncertainly. Maybe they could go and find someone to help? But was there anyone nearby that they could even trust? Not knowing who'd done this to him... It was making this situation so much more difficult.\n\n\"I know an inn nearby, we can go there and I can take care of the rest of your wounds in a less... Filthy environment.\" The Doctor's voice was a little absent, mostly because they were keeping careful track of their surroundings, making sure that no one got close. \"And then you can rest and recover, okay?\" A short pause as they glanced up at the sky. \"Getting out of the sunlight should help you too...\"" }, { "author": "Andreas Featherfall", "message": "Andreas would try to keep focus on them as he'd finished talking though was a bit hard. He'd be more surprised though when he felt their forehead against his, what were they doing? Was it a doctor thing? He'd look at them confused as he didn't know what to do let alone what to say.\n\nTo say he didn't want them to get up was an understatement. He'd been away for too long and he felt as if he was losing someone when they got up. Though this also was just because he was probably more out of it than needed but he didn't want them far away at the moment. It still was taking him a bit of time to understand questions but could he even walk? He didn't know if he could after he could not even stand before, and they couldn't really help either they both be dead weight than. He'd shrug as he didn't know but would try to get up slowly. It was difficult even getting up but he did manage to get standing up even if he was leaning heavily on the wall.\n\nHe'd try giving a smile though he didn't even know if it was convincing. \"Got any walls along the way?...I don't I can walk far... In this state.\" Andreas was luckily not seeing spots with being up but times like these wings were just more a drag than helpful in any way at all. He'd not ad wanting to be in a better place, one with less crowds close was nice. And the less sunlight would help too when he felt this bad. Least he didn't meet anyone that could destroy the ring otherwise he would have been done for completely." }, { "author": "Doctor Jones", "message": "The Doctor listened quietly to his request, then thought for a moment, considering the route. They'd have to make a few minor adjustments to the one they initially thought of, but it was very doable, luckily enough. \"Yeah,\" They said with a nod, taking a few steps in the direction.\n\nIt wasn't a particularly long walk - on a good day, it'd take maybe five minutes, but on a day like today with both travelers being as weakened as they were, it took a little longer, around fifteen minutes or so. Still, they arrived without issue, and the Doctor helped Andreas upstairs as well as they could, hiding their own struggle as best as they could. He might notice, or maybe not, but they seemed to be using both arms just fine, obviously still favoring the left with it being their dominant hand, but the right didn't seem to be in pain anymore.\n\nThe room was quiet and nice, with a large bed that the Doctor tried to guide Andreas towards so that he could sit down. As they did so, they glanced around the room for a few moments, then started rummaging around cabinets to find if there was anything that could aid them. Not too much, but those towels looked clean enough to be torn into straps for bandages, it was a start. They started doing just that, using their trusty scalpel to make an initial cut into the fabric and then tearing it with their hands, making neat, long straps. It didn't take them long, and as if they'd done it a million times before, they started wrapping up the wounds, brow furrowed slightly in concentration, not caring that their hands and sleeves were getting bloody from the work." }, { "author": "Andreas Featherfall", "message": "Andreas would try his best to keep up and not fall behind as they worked on getting to the inn. He knew he'd be slow but he felt like it was worse than he originally thought. Maybe he should have tried staying put but it was too late now. He'd made it through after a lot of leaning against walls for support since he didn't want to try leaning against them at all.\n\nHe was more tired once they got to the inn but they weren't finished yet. He still had to make it to a room which really seemed impossible at this point but he would try. Taking a long time even for this before finally getting to the room and sitting down. He'd probably have noticed more that they seemed to be fine with their right arm now had he not been struggling and he would have been glad to see but right now was not the case.\n\nHe felt a bot bad for the one cleaning the room later since he was a bloody mess that would made the bed the same way. Though he just stayed put and let them work. He could rest soon he kept telling himself, just a little longer before getting to lay down. It was hard not to just lay down and he was sure his whole demeanor showed he just wanted to lay down. He really hated being this weak. He was making so much work for them and it shouldn't even be this way. \"Sorry... For being a mess... I wasn't planning you to see me like this... Couldn't make my wings work that long I guess.\"" }, { "author": "Doctor Jones", "message": "Luckily, having already gotten rid of the worst injuries, this wasn't actually that difficult of a task, and they soon finished, tying the final bandage on his arm together so that it wouldn't slip off. The Doctor wished they'd be able to heal him fully, but they just didn't have the energy necessary. At least the risk of Andreas dying seemed to be gone, much to their relief.\n\n\"It's okay,\" They said softly, extending a hand to cup his cheek and look him in the eyes. The Doctor considered climbing onto his lap, but didn't want to risk hurting him - best not then. \"I'd much rather see you like this than see you dead. Okay? I'm just...\" They let out a trembling sigh, looking him in the eyes. For a moment, they let the calm mask slip, and they looked... Afraid, exhausted, like the almost three centuries of their life were suddenly weighing on them. \"What happened? Who... Did this to you?\" There was no way he did it himself, right? \"Finding you like this after so long of not seeing each other...\" The Doctor averted their gaze, blinking rapidly to keep tears from forming in their eyes.\n\nOnly now did they truly let themself feel it. The fear, gripping their heart, the exhaustion, the despair that came with the thought of losing him. Why did they feel so intensely about him? It made no sense... But the relief that came with Andreas being alive was equally unmatched by anything they'd felt before. \"Just... Lay down, okay? Get some rest, I'll...\" A moment of hesitation. What would they even do in that time? \"Suppose I'll clean up the mess.\"" }, { "author": "Andreas Featherfall", "message": "Andreas was glad it didn't take long for them to finish. The less he had to worry about trying to stay upright was better and though sure he was still sore and a bit in pain it wasn't as bad now. He felt like he could at least breath and not feel a constant burn. He was glad they had found him but also knew they didn't have the energy to heal him probably as much as they did. \n\nAndreas would lean into their hand a bit as he would look at them as well. He knew he still looked bad but they looked worried and he didn't want them to now. He would be okay with time. He'd nod as they were right it was better even if it didn't quite feel like it right now. How would he tell them though what happened? Would they think he did worse because he had technically hunted some just hadn't killed them. Someone else probably did that but he would have been the reason. \"Vervain... The burns are from Vervain... Vampires can't... Can't touch it let alone drink it... Someone... Found out and used a dealer to make tainted blood to sell... Was a anti vampire group. Don't know the name of them.\" He'd shrug as he didn't feel like sharing it all unless was asked for more.\n\nHe could tell they didn't really want to just clean up, he didn't really want them to either. He'd been hunting all of it for a month. He was tired sure but he had missed them more... He didn't want to admit it but he'd tried more not to kill and had fought so hard not to die because of them. He didn't think they probably felt the same but he was here because of them, wanting to see them and hold them. Probably a bit more than that but so what? Didn't matter right now. Instead he wouldn't let them get away. He'd grab their waist and pull them onto his lap as he rested his head on their shoulder. It hurt to move like this but he needed to hold them. \"Not yet... Just... I need this for a moment... Or more\"" }, { "author": "Doctor Jones", "message": "Vervain? It was a substance the Doctor had heard of, having used it occasionally in a medical context, but to hear it could be used in such a way as well... It was a little upsetting, to be frank. Was that why the inside of his throat had been burned? It explained the one missing piece, that was for sure. To think that someone would do that, try to kill another like that... They couldn't understand it at all, but it did make them more glad that they'd found him when they did. What would have happened if someone else had found him first? One of those people, even? Would he have been killed? It was an option they didn't even want to think of.\n\nThey let out a surprised gasp when Andreas suddenly pulled them close, especially when dealing with a sensitive spot like their waist. They didn't protest, though. No, the Doctor was happy to let him do so, happy that he wanted to hold them when they felt so awful. The Doctor wrapped their arms around his body and held him as close as he held them, though they couldn't muster the strength to hold him tightly.\n\n\"...I missed you,\" They admitted softly, voice barely audible. Though they'd been hesitant to say it, the moment the words left their mouth, they knew it to be true. They had missed him, missed talking to him, missed being around him, missed holding him. It was strange, they hadn't felt like this about anyone in a while... But it was true. \"I'll stay. Don't worry, I'm not going anywhere. I... I won't abandon you. I promise.\" They let their eyes fall shut, burying their face in the crook of his neck. \"We can stay here for as long as you need... Okay?\" They really were just glad to be so close to him again." }, { "author": "Andreas Featherfall", "message": "Andreas would still just keep hold of them as he rested against their shoulder. He didn't want them to vanish and he wanted to hold them close to make sure. He was sure they had more questions about it all but was glad they didn't ask now. Though out of the woods for being in that much danger he still could push a bit too far and go backwards some. \n\nHe didn't realize how much he'd missed this, the close contact with another but it just was also different with Jones. He felt a more want with them than he had in the past which was strange. He didn't know why but he did. He was happy though to just sit there and hold them for the time being. He would lay down eventually.\n\n\nAndreas couldn't help but chuckle a bit, it sounded bad from his throat being still somewhat sore. Guess they missed him too. \"I missed you too... More than I thought I would... I don't want you to leave... I don't want to be alone...\" Andreas would sigh at how he felt so weak in the moment. Everything felt raw and well he was opening himself up to them as well it seemed. He'd make sure they stayed fine as he let himself fall back onto the bed. He really needed to lay down even though he was wanting to hold them as well. A dilemma he didn't like at the moment." }, { "author": "Doctor Jones", "message": "Indeed, the Doctor's questions were many, but they decided against asking them for now. Andreas must be tired, and there was no doubt he wouldn't want to deal with them asking a bunch of questions right now. Frankly, they didn't even want the answers in this moment. All they wanted was to be with him, and make sure that he was okay. That last matter did seem to be the case, luckily, allowing them to focus on the first part instead.\n\nThe Doctor let him pull them down, more than happy to be remaining on top of him, in that oh so comfortable position, even if they worried for a moment they might be hurting him like this. Well, if that was the case, he could just say so, right? They rested their head on his chest, one hand on his cheek, the other under their cheek as a makeshift pillow.\n\nThey paused for a moment before continuing to speak. \"I... Thought you'd disappeared forever. I tried to find you, but...\" Hesitantly, they raised their head slightly, looking Andreas in the eyes once more. \"I had no idea where to start.\" A sigh escaped them. Now that they'd started talking, the words didn't seem to want to stop. \"I thought you'd left... That you'd grown to hate me, and decided to just abandon everything here.\" Another pause, voice growing ever softer. \"I... Was afraid you'd hate me so much that you abandoned the entire country and that this... That all of this was just some... Some kind of joke.\"" }, { "author": "Andreas Featherfall", "message": "Andreas was happy to just have them on his chest now. It felt better being able to actually lay down. Trying to stay up was just tiring so he didn't know what to do. He should probably try sleeping but just didn't really want to yet. He wanted to be coherent a bit longer so he knew he was with them.\n\nHe would hold them closer as he let them get comfortable how they wanted to, sure it was a little uncomfortable but not something that he couldn't handle. The wounds were covered so that helped a lot over them all being open as before. He should probably get a blanket pulled over but than that meant moving more and he wasn't very up for doing that in the moment. Maybe once he was about to sleep he will do that or not at all.\n\nAndreas would rub their head a bit as he looked at them. He'd made them really worry and he didn't meant to. He just had to deal with the bad wine before it hurt more that didn't deserve it. \"I'm sorry I made you worry like that... I...I won't leave you like that not, I'm not every going to hate you. You never done anything wrong to make me hate you...\" Andreas would sit up slightly, holding them still as he looked down at them. \"You're not someone I want to abandon, you...\" Andreas would pause as he tried to know what to say next. He didn't want to make them worry anymore. Maybe it was because he was still a bit in pain or because something deep down just told him to do it... He'd move one hand to grab their chin lightly before he'd lean in kiss them gently. It only being a moment before he would pull back, clearing his throat as he looked away from them." }, { "author": "Doctor Jones", "message": "\"Rationally, I know that,\" The Doctor replied softly, \"But I can't help being afraid.\" Part of them wanted to apologize for being so irrational, but before they had the chance, Andreas sat up slightly, seeming to be trying to say something but not finding the right words. His next move, though... That was something they couldn't have expected no matter how much long they thought about it.\n\nWhat was that? A kiss? They'd seen those before, but never, not once in their life, had they been kissed like that. The Doctor was stunned into silence, lips parted slightly as they just stared at him, unable to process a thought, unable to manage a word. All that remained was the lingering feeling of his lips against theirs, and their heart racing in their chest. As if still trying to figure out just what happened, they raised a hand and used it to cover their mouth, only staring at Andreas in complete silence, their usually so pale cheeks flushing a shade of pink.\n\nBut... As the moments passed, they realized that it... It didn't feel bad. Fleeting as the moment had been, they had enjoyed the feeling more than they thought they would when observing others kissing. And so, when they lowered their hand, there was a rare sight on the Doctor's face; a tiny smile as they shyly looked away, almost looking like a teenager who'd just been kissed for the first time - and far from upset about it." }, { "author": "Andreas Featherfall", "message": "Andreas still didn't know what to say, how to form his thoughts into words and yet he'd just... He'd just kissed them. Without asking or anything just done it. To say the least Andreas mind was reeling a bit. Had he just done the wrong thing or was it okay to have done that? Too many questions and yet his head hurt from them all. He wouldn't deny though he actually liked kissing them. Even if he hadn't explained himself at all or actually finished what he was trying to say. \n\nAndreas decided to lay back again as he just simply looked up at them. They at least didn't seem upset. Startled by it yes, but not mad. He'd seen ones mad before for such a small thing so maybe that was good? Though he'd also seen it took a bit for it to sink in what just happened for the anger to come. He did find them very cute at the moment though. Being stunned and lips slightly parted as they tried figuring out what he just did. Maybe he would have to do that again? Wait! What was he thinking!? He'd just did it once without asking he shouldn't be thinking that already again!!\n\nHe couldn't help it though but to give a cheeky smile at them being a little flushed in the cheeks. Maybe it wasn't so bad. He'd close his eyes though after so if they didn't to recover and be mad he didn't have to face them right away. Even though they were still on his chest. He hoped it didn't mess up their relationship that was forming, whatever type it was. He mostly was wanting them happy even if he had some impulses at times and some other thoughts. He needed to control himself for now being in pain apparently made him irrational." }, { "author": "Doctor Jones", "message": "It was hard to figure out what to do or say. The Doctor had never been in a situation like this before, never been so close to someone, never been... Never been kissed. And unfortunately, Andreas didn't seem to be much of a help either, with the way he was laying back down with his eyes closed, not giving them any sort of clue as to what to do.\n\nBut did it matter? The facts of the matter were: 1) Andreas had kissed them; 2) he had been the one to pull them close this time; 3) they liked the feeling; 4) they really liked him; 5) he seemed to really like them. What they should do... Wasn't that just what felt right to them? Screw the right thing to do, right? Could they really do that?\n\nThey hesitated for a long time, remaining seated on top of Andreas, hands eventually lowering to rest on his chest, gently as to not hurt him. Should they just... Go for it? Their gaze was transfixed on those lips of his, the memory of them pressed against theirs so very clear in their mind - it was doubtful that they'd ever forget. But no, the Doctor couldn't gather the courage. It was fine, they decided. There'd be another opportunity some other time. Maybe right now they should do what they came to this inn for initially, and go get some rest. Perhaps they'd be able to discuss the matter in the morning then?\n\nDeciding that was the best idea, the Doctor laid their arms on Andreas' chest and rested their head on top of them, eyes falling shut. Exhausted as they were, they were quick to start drifting to sleep - a testament to how truly safe they felt around him." }, { "author": "Andreas Featherfall", "message": "Andreas was kind of glad they didn't seemed to push any on the matter of what he did. It still made him want to do it again sure but maybe it was time he tried to sleep a little. It wouldn't hurt for him to get some rest and than worry about that type of thing later. Deciding it was best just to leave it for now and feeling Jones laying down as well he'd quickly get pulled into the darkness of a dreamless sleep. Which was good since he did need a decent rest to just recover. \n\nAndreas didn't know how long he'd slept, could have been a few hours or more but he was guessing it was more just didn't know how much more. His head still felt groggy but he didn't hurt as bad. What had all happened? He knew he was in rough shape before and something was on his chest? He'd open his eyes as he moved his left hand up Jones back, not something but a someone... Jones, why were they here? Looking down he'd sleep their sleeping form as he studied them a bit with a confused look. What had happened? \n\nIt would take a bit before he started to recall all that had happened, he'd tried to make it home and failed, he was in an alley before someone was in front of him which turned out to be Jones. Than they came to the inn, he got fixed up, and than... Oh goddess he... He kissed them! Andreas would cover his mouth with a hand as he tried to remember anything after but it was all blank. He'd... Did they hate him? He didn't think so since they were still here but had they even talked about why he did it? Ughhh the one day he does something like that and now he can't remember anything after!" }, { "author": "Doctor Jones", "message": "The Doctor had been awake for a little bit, but they hadn't dared to move in fear of waking up Andreas when he needed his sleep so desperately. No, they pretended to be asleep until he woke up - though that was very hard with everything that happened last night still clearly in their mind. They couldn't forget it. That moment would likely remained burned on the inside of their skull for the rest of time. That feeling... They so desperately wanted to experience it again, but they couldn't just do that, could they? They'd probably have to figure out what it all meant, why he did that, and if he was even willing to do it again. After all, Andreas hadn't been exactly keen on addressing it... Did he regret it?\n\nThey remained in place for a few more moments when he started stirring, but eventually slowly sat up, hiding a yawn behind their right hand, while the left remained on his chest to support themself. At least they didn't appear to be uncomfortable around him, or was that just because they were tired? There was no way to know for sure from an outside perspective.\n\nLooking back down at Andreas, the Doctor hesitated for a moment before lowering their right hand and placing it right next to the left, their arm seemingly not at all in pain anymore. \"How... Are you feeling?\" They decided to ask, avoiding the uncertain question of What had happened yesterday. \"Are you in pain? If anywhere hurts a lot... You should tell me, it could be a sign of an infection.\" And it was right back into the doctor talk, something they knew and understood - perhaps it wasn't too surprising their mind went to talking about that instead of the confusing mess that was last night." }, { "author": "Andreas Featherfall", "message": "Andreas would stop once seeing them up. Had he woken them up? He didn't think so but he never knew and his mind was still kind of reeling after realizing all that had happened before. They didn't seem to be upset but maybe more tired? He hoped he hadn't made them use too much energy but who know unless he asked which he didn't know if he wanted to yet.\n\nThey seemed to be okay though, their arm much have healed up good as it didn't seem to hurt them as it did last time... He wanted to check the scar but it would be a bad idea. Probably a lot of what he was thinking was a bad idea but he couldn't help it when they looked cute with their bed head. Wait... Why was he thinking this again?! Ugh his mind was too much of a mess. He would just decide to listen to the questions for now. \"I'm... Feeling less dead now thanks to you. I'm mostly just sore now. Some places feel itchy but it's probably just the healing.\" \n\nHe was almost a little disappointed they went straight to doctor talk. Maybe he shouldn't bring it up? Oh screw it! Goddess help because this is not easy. \"Uh... About yesterday... Did I do something... Different after you fixed me up? I don't know if my memory is uh... Correct or not and uh... I don't want to just... Say something that didn't happen.\"" }, { "author": "Doctor Jones", "message": "The Doctor really wished to check out the wounds, but they'd already done everything they could when Andreas was still asleep - a visual examination wouldn't help confirm much else. At least he didn't seem to be lying about his levels of pain, that was a relief. \"It'll itch for a while,\" They said, lightly scratching their right arm, where the injury had been located, though everything remained hidden beneath their sleeves. \"The scars will too, for a little while. Assuming you scar at all. I must admit, my knowledge on vampire biology is... Lacking.\"\n\nThey looked away as they said that, almost seeming disinterested. For once, this wasn't the thing they actually wanted to talk about. Medical science seemed so much less interesting in this moment in time - what was happening to them? Was Andreas causing this, somehow? With how much their mind was stuck on that Kiss, it had to be, right? But would he even want to talk about that?\n\nApparently he did. The Doctor snapped their head back to look at him when he asked his awkward question, their face already flushing ever so slightly. How were they supposed to answer that? They remained quiet, fiddling with their sleeves as they looked down at their hands before finally, after an agonizing silence, nodding. \"...Yeah,\" They muttered, their fiddling increasing in speed. \"You... You kissed me.\" It was a barely audible whisper, one that made their heart race, but they'd said it, gaze slowly raising to meet Andreas' to figure out his reaction." }, { "author": "Andreas Featherfall", "message": "Andreas was glad they didn't seem to worried about him being in any danger. He didn't feel like he was going to be now even if things still hurt some. But some soreness wasn't hard to handle, it would leave in a few days once he could get a bit more blood. Least he wasn't so pale now and didn't feel like he was a threat to them. This was a main concern for him but he felt alright. \"I still scar just... Not as much I guess. And you can always ask things whenever you want to about it later. I will do my best to answer.\"\n\nAndreas would sit up now as he let his wings stretch out. Seemed one had taken a bit more of his fall than wanted. A pain because looked like it lost a good amount of feathers. Ground it seemed for the time being, annoying since now he would be unable to get his supply but he should be fine without it just would take longer to heal. Looking back at them he could see they actually didn't want to talk about the normal. Strange but maybe there was a reason. Maybe the reason was what he'd asked?\n\nApparently so, least that's how it looked. He was surprised at their reaction and they have a slight flush to their cheeks? So maybe he had actually done it. He actually kissed them, goddess he hoped they didn't hate him for it. But they seemed more... Shy almost by admitting he had indeed kissed them? That couldn't be right, could it? \"So, I wasn't dreaming it...\" Andreas would run a hand through his hair as he looked at them. How was he supposed to explain this? He was nervous, what if he said the wrong thing? He didn't want to mess this up with whatever they had. He'd sigh as he looked at them, grabbing their left hand gently to keep them from fiddling and make sure they looked at him. His hand laced with theirs once again. \"Do... Do you... I'm not sorry I kissed you... I'm sure you probably... I don't know were waiting for someone else... But...\" Andreas would mumble as he looked away \"Goddess help me this is hard...\"\n\nBefore speaking up again and looking at them \"Call me whatever, crazy I guess but... I can't stop feeling things for you. I just... I want to kiss you again and hold you... I...I don't know why maybe I am crazy but... I just really want to be with you... And last night... I kissed you because it's how I feel about you and I couldn't... Say what I wantd so I just... Reacted... I'm sorry if it was wrong to do... But I'm also not sorry I did it... I know that we are not more than strangers but I don't everything just feels... Better when I'm around you.\"" }, { "author": "Doctor Jones", "message": "The Doctor couldn't help gasping softly when their hand was taken, though it was more because they were very tense right now than that it actually started them. The tenseness perhaps wasn't entirely unexpected. They'd never been in a situation like this, and unfamiliar things often felt scary to them - perhaps that was something they had in common with most. Either way, when they got used to it, they did calm down, allowing Andreas to hold their hand and intertwine their fingers. It felt nice and comforting, and right now, they certainly needed that.\n\nThey listened to his rambling in silence, gaze drifting around his face. Everything about him was so wonderful to look at, it was hard to pick what to focus on. And his words... It seemed that for once, Andreas was the one who was fumbling, and not them - though they'd probably act the exact same way if they had to talk right now.\n\nAnd indeed, the Doctor had no idea what to say. Words simply failed them. They continued holding Andreas' hand, considering what he said, contrasting it against their own desires... They were oddly similar. Maybe... Maybe they should take a risk. A small risk, if what he was saying was true, but a risk nonetheless. Then again, it was much more risky to start talking and probably end up saying something dumb, so...\n\nThe Doctor lightly cupped Andreas' cheek with their right hand, thumb brushing over his lips, their heart beating so loudly in their chest they were certain he could hear it. Slowly, they bent forward, gaze fixated on his lips, head tilted slightly to the left so that their noses wouldn't get in the way. So close they sat, their lips almost touching, and they hesitated ever so briefly before bridging that gap, bringing their lips against his, kissing him ever so softly.\n_ _\n\nThe Doctor lingered there for a few seconds before pulling away, albeit reluctantly. \"I... Hope that makes my feelings on the matter of kissing you clear,\" They muttered in a voice so soft that it was almost impossible to hear. Luckily, their face was still very close to Andreas', so it should be very easy for him to hear the soft mumble, or do something else if he so desired - they sure as hell didn't seem like they'd be saying 'no'." }, { "author": "Andreas Featherfall", "message": "He made sure to be gentle as he held their hand. He didn't want them to get hurt and though they were tense he hoped this would be enough to help calm them down more. He knew all of this wasn't easy for them as it seemed they never gone this far with someone. He would have to keep that in mind and not push anything.\n\nHe didn't know what he was really saying. He wad more panicked than he thought he would be and this was making it hard to say exactly what he thought. More than not he probably was just digging himself a deeper hole to be in but he didn't know for sure.\n\nAndreas would stop rambling at them cupping his cheek, looking at them with a bit of worry. Would they reject what he'd said? He'd freeze up at their thumb brushing over his lips, he was sure his own heart was beating just as loudly but yet he stayed still. Letting them move in as he stayed complete still, he was actually a bit nervous till he felt their lips against his. It felt like his worries vanished in that moment.\n\nTheir kiss back made it very clear to him on their feeling on the matter. He couldn't help but smile as he would close the small distance once again and kiss them back in a longer kiss. Holding them close by their waist as he let the kiss last a bit longer before he would move back a bit before placing his forehead against theirs. Andreas would chuckle a bit as he smiled at them. \"I quite like that answer on the matter. Just like I like you, Jones. More than I thought I would with anymore in a long long time.\"" }, { "author": "Doctor Jones", "message": "There was something about it. Something about the feeling of Andreas' lips against their own that made the Doctor's heart race in their chest, that made them want more... More of him, somehow. It was all so strange, so unfamiliar, but in a good way. This whole situation didn't scare them nearly as much as they would have expected. Sure, it was still a little scary, unknowns always came with some fear, but they felt safe, knowing he was there with them.\n\nEyes fluttered shut momentarily when he kissed them again, and the Doctor was almost a little sad when Andreas pulled away. It seemed they really quite liked being kissed like that, though they did not understand why. However, for once, they were happy to just let it be, and not be worried about the whys of the situation - what did any of it matter, when Andreas was right here, with them, seemingly feeling the exact same way?\n\nThey were quiet for a few moments, resting their forehead against his in return, expression remaining surprisingly neutral despite the situation - but their rapidly beating heart and the hint of pink on their cheeks couldn't lie. It was obvious that they were feeling the same way, even if they couldn't find the words to express it. \"I... Like you a lot,\" They replied softly. \"I don't... Think I've ever liked anyone quite like I like you, Andreas.\" Well, now that they were thinking on it, maybe there was that one girl... But she belonged to a time that had passed by long ago. No, they wanted to be here, right now, with him. \"I've... I've never kissed anyone before,\" They admitted, voice growing ever quieter. Hopefully that wouldn't be off-putting..." }, { "author": "Andreas Featherfall", "message": "Andreas didnt mind that they had a more natural look on their face. He knew they weren't exactly feeling that way. He really wanted to tease them a bit and do more but he would keep it to just kissing for now he supposed. Didn't want to overwhelm them too much, they didn't seem to maybe have done this before so maybe they haven't done more either. \n\nHe'd shake the thought away for the moment as he really just wanted to tease them more but later... Maybe... He'd for the moment just rub the back of their left hand as he looked at them. He'd heard many hearts being rapidly but for other reasons. This time he liked the sound for a good reason, one he was sure he'd probably have had with his ex but it wasn't something he could have heard than. Their pick cheeks made him just find them very cute at the moment and he wanted to just tease them to keep that little flush. \n\nAndreas decided after hearing the small confession from Jones he couldn't help himself. Still having their one hand captured already it wasn't hard to be quick and capture their other hand before he would have them pushed back onto the bed. His knees trapping them under him as he would have their hands pinned above their head in a matter of seconds. Him giving a cheeky smirk as he looked down at them before he would lean down and kiss them once again. He was actually glad to be their first kiss, and he wanted to be their last now." }, { "author": "Doctor Jones", "message": "The Doctor couldn't help giving the tiniest of smiles when Andreas took their hand, glad that he didn't seem to be put off by their inexperience. And, admittedly, they weren't the least experienced person out there - though their practical knowledge was lacking, they'd been alive for almost three centuries now, they had picked up some things along the way, especially with having been a doctor for most of that time.\n\nHowever, what they didn't have experience with was what Andreas did next. Quite frankly, there probably wasn't anything that could have prepared them for that. The way their hands were suddenly taken, the way they were pinned down, unable to escape his grasp, that smirk on his face... It only flustered them even more, lips parting to seemingly say something but the words remaining stuck in their throat as their face flushed darker.\n\nA soft \"Mmh\" Noise escaped them when they were kissed, a sound they had not planned on making but that slipped out without their permission. All of this was so unexpected, catching them off guard completely... But the Doctor had to admit that they quite liked it. Even the way they were pinned down was making them feel warm inside in a way they hadn't experienced before. Even if they wanted to speak, they couldn't form a coherent word, and so they just gave in to the feeling, kissing Andreas back the best they could in the hopes of showing him that they did not mind this situation at all." }, { "author": "Andreas Featherfall", "message": "Andreas didn't know why he was enjoying this so much but he really liked teasing them and catching them off guard. He would have to remember though to not get too carried away. Keep it simple and don't push it too far.\n\nHe had liked seeing their small smile before he'd caught them off. The surprise they showed and the darker flush fo their face made it all worth hit before he'd captured their lips in another kiss. Andreas seemed to have gotten what he wanted from them and would linger for a little longer before pulling back to just look down at them. He was more than happy at the moment just looking down at them\n\n\"Seems I got you a little flustered, don't worry I will keep from doing too many surprises in one day. But I like you a lot as well and I'm glad I got to be your first as well. I was a bit worried before that I might have messed up by doing that.\" Andreas couldn't help but smile still as he really did like them. He felt protective of them but also so much more.* \"I will try to keep from throwing you off guard too much but I can't say I might not find more excuses to be around you in the coming week. Since I am stuck here with my wing needing to regrow feathers. And don't you even think about using your magic on me to fix it. It's just some feathers.\"" }, { "author": "Doctor Jones", "message": "The Doctor almost wished that they would be able to reach out a hand and caress Andreas' face, but they didn't mind being held like this either - quite the opposite, in fact. It was so strange. Normally, they'd hate giving up control like this, but with him... They actually quite liked it. Maybe it was because they trusted him? Either way, there wasn't a hint of discomfort in their expression or body language, though it was also hard to read what they were feeling. Then again... That was normal for them, wasn't it?\n\n\"I don't mind any of it,\" They replied softly, part of them wanting him to get back down and kiss them again. \"I really don't. I don't... Know why you being my first is significant, but... I... I like it. A lot.\" It really was a nice feeling, how had they missed out on it all their life? What else had they been missing out on? Were there more experiences like this? Hopefully... He would be able to guide them to figuring out more things like it.\n\nThe Doctor averted their gaze, thinking that over for a moment. \"Perhaps... We should meet again, sooner than a month from now?\" They suggested, then added to the statement; \"I can't regrow feathers anyway. My healing... I can only repair what is broken. I can't regrow what is lost.\" That was the one major limitation they'd never been able to overcome, but even if they did know how, it'd take too much energy to do anything resembling it, and in this case, that just wasn't worth it." }, { "author": "Andreas Featherfall", "message": "Andreas couldn't help but smile as he looked down at them. Their size comparison was definitely amusing to him at the moment because they looked so small beneath him. But he didn't want to let them go either, he liked having them a bot trapped below him though not in a bad way for once. He kept his grip light but firm it helped being on a bed since it wouldn't cause any harm. It was probably why he did it in the first place because he knew it wouldn't hurt them. Sure he couldn't see easily what they were thinking but that was okay, it did give Andreas a bit of a challenge to figure it out.\n\n\"It's not really a big deal usually unless your younger. Kids usually like to have it more of a big deal of they did it with their crush or something like that. I just like that I got to be because I like you and I quite enjoy doing it with you. Though I suggest you don't say you don't mind any of it. There is a lot more that ones who like each other can do. This right here is only a very small part but one that I think is special for us.\" Andreas would place his forehead against theirs once again as he closed his eyes. He probably should be resting still but how could he when he felt like this?.\n\n\"We can meet whenever you want, I'm stuck in Lazaroth here till my feathers grow back. And I'm glad you can't grow them back, wouldn't give me a good excuse to be here if they were back.\" Andreas would tilt his head a bit as he moved to sit back up on his knees, letting go of their hands as he thought a bit. \"Do you want to keep exploring more things like this? Not now of course but as time goes on? Do you think you will still be wanting to? I ask because... Well if you believe you will still wish to than... I might decide to get a home here to stay. Instead of living on a island, not that it's a bad thing but I can't take you out there during the very cold months and you enjoy it.\"" }, { "author": "Doctor Jones", "message": "The Doctor hesitated, wanting to fiddle with something but being unable to due to their hands being held together still. \"You... Don't think it's strange that someone my age has never been kissed before?\" Admittedly, it was something they were a little uncertain about. Andreas seemed to know Exactly What he was doing, whereas they... Didn't. He probably had kissed a lot more people than them - he'd probably done a lot more with those people as well. Wouldn't it be weird for him to be with someone who hadn't done any of that? Who would be entirely clueless about, well, Everything?\n\nThat worry didn't take long to fade, however, with Andreas pressing his forehead against theirs so very gently. The Doctor let their eyes fall shut, taking a few deep breaths. Indeed, it didn't really matter, did it? If he wanted to be with someone more experienced... He could just find someone like that. But no, it was them that he chose, and that was all that mattered.\n\n\"I... Do have things to do,\" They muttered reluctantly. As Andreas let go, the Doctor lowered their hands and folded them together on their chest, biting their lip lightly as they looked up at him. \"So we can't meet as often as I'd like, but when we do...\" They shyly averted their gaze, heartrate quickening. \"I... Wouldn't mind, I don't think. I've never... Done anything like it, so I don't know if I'll like it... But I'd like to try.\" Hopefully they guessed correctly what he was talking about, because That Aspect of being with someone was something they'd always been curious about. Would he be willing to? With them? Strangely enough... The Doctor was hopeful." }, { "author": "Andreas Featherfall", "message": "Andreas would shake his head as he didn't find it strange. He knew some Aasimars who had taken a vow to just simply be alone and some just simply waited for the right one. Not everyone had to have a kiss when they were young. \"It's not strange at all, some like to wait till they find their beloved. And some simply don't wish to do any of that but live a life following a more holy life. Or something like that.\" He'd shrug as it wasn't a big deal to him, in the past when he was more immature it might have been but now he saw why someone would do that.\n\nAndreas didnt care about them not being experienced in the parts of a relationship, they will figure it out with time and he will make sure not to overwhelm them with too much. Not to say he didn't have some thoughts on what he wanted to do but for now he would take it slow for their sake.\n\n\"You can do whatever you need to. I will mostly still be resting here or I will be out wondering a bit. I need to find a supplier since I can't get to mine right now anyways...\" Andreas would scowl a bit as he hated ones who did what they did because it made it so any supplier become untrustworthy in a vampires eyes unless you could watch the person all the time. Sure most were run by a vampire themselves but it still didn't mean some didn't make it through the cracks to do what just happened. \n\nHe would shake the thought away as he he gave them a smile again. \"We can try whatever you wish to try when you're ready for it. I'm here for probably a few weeks before I can even get back to the island so we can meet whenever you want to.\" Andreas would grab their chin gently to make them look at him once again \"And I will be more than willing to show you that part of being with someone you wish to be with.\"" }, { "author": "Doctor Jones", "message": "The Doctor let out the softest of sighs, fiddling with their sleeve. \"It's not that... It's that most people can't deal with all my issues, or they find my appearance off-putting, or a million different reasons. Then there's the fact that I myself haven't really had the time to consider any of that, nor have I found anyone interesting enough to capture my attention for long enough... Until you, I suppose.\" Indeed, Andreas was the first person they'd truly been interested in in a deeper way who wasn't already with someone else. Well, there were maybe one or two individuals in the past, but most of those had been dead for at least a century by now.\n\n\"I can help you test the blood,\" The Doctor suggested. \"I... Well, my sense of taste is only sensitive when it comes to blood, I'm certain I'll be able to pick out if it's been messed with.\" Another thought crossed their mind then, one that they hadn't addressed yet. \"While we're on the topic... I hope you don't mind I tried to force-feed you my blood. I just didn't know what to do, and I needed to ensure you were okay...\" Hopefully he wouldn't mind - the Doctor really wasn't looking forward to a negative reaction, even if it was understandable. Though... Part of them was curious, what did their blood taste like to him? Well, they doubted he'd remember.\n\nThough as their chin was grabbed, the Doctor couldn't help looking at him again. They were quiet for a moment before nodding. \"I... Would quite like that,\" They whispered. A short pause, and then they reached out their arms, wrapping them around his neck, pulling Andreas down to kiss him again, eyes closed - it seemed they really liked that." }, { "author": "Andreas Featherfall", "message": "\"So you have a few more issues than the rest normally don't have, it's not a bad thing to have some days more than others. You seen some odd my bad, and heard some of it. Part of being in a... Uh relationship is having to learn to find ways to deal or get around those issues. Otherwise might as well just be in a brothel where there is no deeper connection.\" Andreas would shrug at that as he had done such a thing before and knew it wasn't as filling as knowing someone really.\n\nHe would look at them a bit at saying they could help. Could they even? It wasn't exactly something even he could just sense. \"I don't know... It's not exactly tampered with. It's made by the person eating Vervain before having their blood extracted. Some think it's a good way to keep from being bit... Though it's hard to pick up on it's scent in blood. Wearing something with it is usually a better choice.\" Andreas would shake his head as some just went too far and didn't help them anyways. All usually does is ends their life or they get turned because the vampire can't kill them from getting weakened. \"I guessed as much it was your blood. I doubted someone else just gave you blood to use. Just make sure I don't bite you okay? I rather not get you stick in this existence. You can use plenty of a vampire weaknesses to keep from getting bit. If you know how to use them.\" \n\nAndreas would let them pull him down into a kiss as he would pull them close himself as well. He didn't mind them getting a bit more bold and wanting to kiss. He was just glad they liked it really. It made him happy to see them open up even just a little like this, maybe it would be good for them both." }, { "author": "Doctor Jones", "message": "The kiss lasted for a good few seconds, though the Doctor had to pull away eventually for air, being very reluctant to do so. They held Andreas close, one arm remaining around his neck, the other entangled into his hair. There was something so nice about holding him close like this, and him being willing to be held by them - part of them was starting to want to never let go.\n\n\"A relationship?\" They asked softly, seemingly not quite believing what they were hearing. \"Is... That what this is?\" Would he really want to? With them? It was difficult to believe, but... They so wanted it to be true. And why wouldn't it be? He clearly didn't mind their presence, their oddities, all of it... Why couldn't it be true that he wanted to be with them in that way? Looking up at Andreas, examining his face, all the Doctor wanted was to kiss him again, as if trying to make sure that this was real and not some kind of amazing dream.\n\n\"I'll be able to detect it,\" The Doctor said confidently - a rare thing for them to be. \"I have... A lot of experience detecting strange things in blood, once I'm attuned to the flavor, I'll be able to figure out if it's tainted or not.\" If there was one thing they were good at dealing with, it was blood - there had been some people who'd accused them of being a vampire over the years because of how good they were with the stuff. \"Did my blood help at all?\" They questioned after a moment. \"I... Didn't know what to do, but I had to try... Something, right?\"" }, { "author": "Andreas Featherfall", "message": "He didn't mind them messing with his hair, it feel oddly good when they did that but he wouldn't tell them that just yet. But he was fine with letting them know he enjoyed the rest of it with them. Though he was probably going to have to make them go eventually or they would not get anything done they needed to do.\n\n\"If you want it to be, it's more what I feel this is like but I don't want to push you into something you might not be ready for.\" Andreas poked their head with his finger through to keep them least distanced for now. He could see their want a bit and he did need to keep them a little controlled so they could do the things they needed to do.\n\n\"I still rather you didn't. Some think normal poisons will work on us and use them if they find a way to get their wine into the mix. We have to always be cautious unless we have a trusted dealer. Mine just is far away at the moment... I will need to restock eventually which is a pain.\" He didn't want them to get hurt because of him. It was fine he was good for a while before he really needed to have it just was a pain when the hunger set in. \"Your blood helped, I probably would be healing a lot slower if not for it but don't be doing such a thing often. I don't want to harm you because of something like that. It can be dangerous and it would have been if I wasn't that bad. Most times after a month it's hard to control the desire for blood. Any time before that it's not bad which is why I just regularly drink some.\"" }, { "author": "Doctor Jones", "message": "\"I don't know, I've never...\" The Doctor's voice trailed off. Just how often were they going to have to say that? That they'd never done something they really should have done by now? Andreas said he didn't mind... But they minded, more than they should. There was something strangely embarrassing about it.\n\nA sigh escaped them when Andreas poked their forehead, and the Doctor let their head fall back onto the pillows, letting go of him after a moment to instead start fiddling with their hands, looking up at him. \"I just... I don't know if I'm ready for it. For any of this.\" Their left hand went to their right arm, starting to once more trace the outlines of their scars that remain hidden beneath their clothing. \"I think I'd like to try... But I wouldn't want to hurt you if it turns out I'm not ready.\" Did that make any sense? They really hoped it did.\n\nThey considered his words, resisting the urge to protest. It seemed they weren't changing his mind, no matter what they said - and the Doctor didn't have the energy to argue right now. \"I suppose I just... Want to help you,\" They sighed, averting their gaze. \"If it's blood you need, I can give you some more of mine. I know how much I can lose, and I can afford a bit more without endangering myself.\" If there was one thing they knew, it was that. \"Or... Something else. If... There's anything I can do for you... Please do let me know.\" Their thumb traced over the long scar left behind from the last time they met - they wished to help him the same way he'd helped them back then, but the method to do so seemed difficult to find." }, { "author": "Andreas Featherfall", "message": "Andreas would lean down as he put his right by their head and his left would cup their cheek \"Hey, I don't care if you haven't okay? We can take this as slow as you need and we will stop wherever you need. If you aren't ready than I am fine holding back and just being here with you. Don't feel like you need to do something you aren't ready for just because of me. I want you happy, that's all I need.\"\n\nAndreas would lean down and kiss their forehead, he just wanted to see them happy more than it all. And if it meant they didn't go into a relationship so be it, he would just be friends with them.\n\nHe knew they wanted to help but he was okay for noe really. \"Hey, I'm okay for now. It just takes time to get back to my stash and I know you want to help. But I would feel terrible if you got hurt because of me. I just... Have to do some more shady work to get some from here if I need it before I can get back to the island... Know anything about a good place around here and close to the water? That would help if you know a place. If not don't worry about it.\" He'd just smile at them as he tried to reassure them he was okay and they were helping. \"Though... Know anyone who can give uh... A good cut? I'm sure I probably need one after a month.\"" }, { "author": "Doctor Jones", "message": "The Doctor closed their eyes at the gentle touch, leaning into it and taking a deep breath. They nodded, albeit somewhat hesitantly, not seeming entirely convinced by his words but ready enough to accept them. \"Well... I know I do like the aspects of being together that you've shown be so far,\" They muttered, slightly awkwardly dancing around the topic of both physical touch and kissing him. Maybe over time they'd grow more comfortable discussing it, but this was all very new right now, so there was bound to be some discomfort.\n\nEyes blinked open at the kiss upon their forehead, and the Doctor felt their heart skip a beat as they looked up at Andreas, lightly biting their bottom lip. \"I... Think I wouldn't mind being... More than friends,\" They said softly, trying to ignore how Awkward They were when it came to this. Luckily, it didn't seem like he minded all that much. \"If that's okay with you...\"\n\nThey thought about those questions for a few moments. Tried to think of something useful to say, but... Nothing. Absently, the Doctor fiddled with their sleeve, brow furrowed. \"I can offer you some money to pay for those services,\" They said eventually, exhaling a somewhat annoyed sigh at their own incompetence. \"Maybe you can ask the innkeeper? I'm assuming he knows the area fairly well.\"" }, { "author": "Andreas Featherfall", "message": "\"We can always try being more than friends and if you decide you don't want to any more than we will simply go back to just friends. I know all of this is new to you, I'm willing to go slow so you don't get uncomfortable with anything we do.\" Andreas would rub their cheek as he was happy just to touch them or hold them just a little. He knew they opening up to physical contact would take time and he wasn't going to rush them into it thinking it's what he wanted. \"All I want is to be with you, no matter how it is, okay?\"\n\nAndreas would smile reassuringly at them as he would kiss their forehead again. \"And I like how soft spoken you get, no matter what you think I like you for the good and bad. It's why I won't just leave you just because of some new challenges or problems.\"\n\nAndreas would chuckle as he poked their nose, a little tease for them being so frustrated over something so trivial \"I don't need your money and it's okay if you don't know any. It's not a problem. Maybe I can find some places and we can look together? That way you could help me pick a good place here?\" He was trying to make them feel better on the matter. \"I be honest I'm horrible at picking a place. If I had to actually pick a place you seen what I would usually pick normally. I haven't actually had a place in a very long time.\"" }, { "author": "Doctor Jones", "message": "It was oddly tempting to try to get Andreas to do more, if only because the Doctor was incredibly curious about all of it. All these acts they'd heard talked about and read about but never got to experience... Who could blame them for being curious? But that would be unfair to him too, wouldn't it? Doing such things only for the sake of experimentation and not because they wanted to specifically with him. It seemed like it'd be best to wait until they knew they were ready, but how would they know? All of this was so confusing...\n\n\"I don't understand why you'd like me,\" They spoke up eventually, looking up at Andreas, \"Why you'd be willing to do so much for me... But I suppose I don't have to understand it to accept it, right?\" They raised their left hand and gently brushed it against his cheek, enjoying the closeness. It lingered there for a moment before they reached up both arms to pull him back down, not to kiss him, but just to hug him, hold him close and be held close by him, even if he may be slightly heavy for them.\n\nIt was a little ironic that he was asking them for help looking for a place, considering the Doctor's tendency to drift from spot to spot aimlessly, only stopping when people needed help. However, that didn't mean they weren't happy to agree. \"I'll try my best,\" They said with a nod, \"Even if I'm not sure how much I would be able to help. My own experience with picking places to live is... Lacking, to say the least.\" Frankly, they would have invited Andreas to live with them, but considering his vampiric nature... Maybe that wasn't the best idea. It'd be better for him to find a place of his own." }, { "author": "Andreas Featherfall", "message": "Andreas didnf mind getting pulled down as he let them, still keeping his weight off them with is elbow keeping him mostly off them. He rather they just stay comfortable and that meant just letting them pull him down enough. \"I like you because you are different. You have seen me at my worst and not cared about judging me. I seen you at one of your worst. I like that even though you have a hard past and many secrets like I do you are trying to do good... Plus I just am drawn to you, I know you don't believe in the whole goddess thing but I do. I think she maybe helped is meet. Maybe I'm just a believer that some good can come to one's who made mistakes.\"\n\nEither way he might say it he just simply liked them for who they were even if they didn't understand it. He would just smile as he used one hand to hug them back. Whatever they wished to do he would for them. He didn't mind being a bit of an experiment for them as long as it wasn't used to hard anyone else.\n\n\"Well we just will have to find a place with a good sunrise and well even if it's not by water as long as it has some nice view would be nice. But that might be impossible to find here. I don't really know though till I look.\" He didn't mind the hunt since even if for a house gave him a thrill of such a quest." }, { "author": "Doctor Jones", "message": "It really was hard to understand. In all of this messiness, what was there to like? Wasn't it a massive pain to have to deal with all of it? Part of them wanted to try to push Andreas away, make sure that he didn't get too close, that he didn't get hurt by them. However, the way they kept holding on to him told the Doctor enough about how much they really wanted that. Right now, all they wanted was him.\n\n\"I don't know exactly what all these feelings mean,\" They spoke up softly, \"But I know that I like you a lot, that I like spending time around you, and... I just want to be with you.\" The admission was added to by them gently cupping Andreas' cheek and looking up at him, before making an attempt to kiss him. The feeling really was quite nice... How could they not?\n\nIt didn't last long, though, because they had to respond to what he said next. \"I know the snowy landscape can have a lovely view, even if it is different from other countries.\" The Doctor was quiet for a few moments, thinking the matter over. \"Perhaps there's mountains nearby that'll allow you to have a higher place to live with better views?\" A short pause, and then they added in a soft grumble; \"Though that would be a pain to get up to...\" Maybe it wasn't so bad for him, but a long trek up a cold mountain sounded like hell. Then again, relaxing with Andreas and something warm to drink afterwards... Now that didn't seem so bad, actually. \"I'm assuming you'll want something away from town so that people can't look at you too closely, right?\" Speaking of... A realization came to mind and the Doctor reluctantly let go of Andreas. \"I still need to clean the blood from your injuries off you, and this room.\" The amount of blood surely would be suspicious if someone saw." }, { "author": "Andreas Featherfall", "message": "Andreas would poke their head gently as he smiled at them. \"Stop worrying so much. I will do things when you feel ready for them. Till than I will just help get you used to things slowly. You already got one thing down you like doing. You will get used to more as time goes on\"\n\nAndreas would make no attempt to refuse them as he didn't mind doing it more. \"I will say this once, you don't need to have labels for your feelings. Just follow whatever feels right around me. I'm not going to refuse you just because you never done something before.\" \n\nAndreas shook his head, he didn't want something up that high. Sure he liked a bit of a higher area but that high reminded him too much of his mess ups to his past. \"I don't want that, I can hide well enough with blood no one will know the wiser of what I am. I still sure want a bit away from the rest if it's not possible here than I will make due. Plus I don't think I need you trying to get to it in the cold no matter how nice the warmth is after.\" He would tilt his head as they were right, the place needed some blood cleaned and he kind of needed cleaned up as well. \"I will clean it so don't worry so much about it, it will take but a moment to do so.\"" }, { "author": "Doctor Jones", "message": "Just do what felt right... Was it really that easy? But how were they supposed to do that when they didn't even know what exactly felt right? The only way to figure that out was through experimentation, and that was something they weren't sure Andreas would like, to be used in such a way while they figured things out.\n\n\"I don't know what feels right or not,\" They admitted, averting their gaze. \"I barely know what my options are.\" A deep breath. This was going to be a horribly awkward thing to ask. \"Would you... Be okay with helping me figure it out? Helping me experiment, essentially?\" There was that slight shade of pink on their cheeks again, and the Doctor was starting to wish that the ground would swallow them up already.\n\nThey listened to his requests and nodded - it made a lot of sense. Helped narrow it down, that was for sure. \"I suppose I'd prefer it if you were somewhere close by as well,\" They mused, looking off to the side in thought. Well, it was something to worry about later, wasn't it? For now there were more pressing matters to worry about.\n\n\"I sincerely doubt you'll be able to clean blood off as quickly as I can,\" The Doctor said with a raised eyebrow in Andreas' direction. \"Nor as thoroughly.\" Especially when it was dried like it was right now. Dealing with blood was one thing they were confident with, and they weren't going to let him do it if he was going to do a worse job at it, that'd just be a waste of everyone's time, wouldn't it?" }, { "author": "Andreas Featherfall", "message": "\"You don't have to just know it, sometimes it's just doing something in the moment even if you aren't so sure about it. It's a learning you just have to work through. Andreas would chuckle as he looked down at them, kissing their forehead once again \"I would br delighted with helping you experiment. Whatever you wish to try or do, I know you aren't going to try causing me harm and so I will do whatever you want to find what you like doing.\"\n\nHe would smile as he was glad they did want him close as well \"Well I'm sure we can come up with a place like that. Just have to look around for places. I will try finding some in the coming weeks since I rather not stay here ever time.\" He'd shrug as it just was annoying being in a place not his.\n\n\"I never said I could quickly, plus that just means you will be using your magic which I don't think is smart. You used a lot yesterday and than also used your blood. Some blood won't hurt anyone. I'm sure there is more rooms like this at times.\" Was part of getting a room, some got bloody people who came into them or they left bloody." }, { "author": "Doctor Jones", "message": "\"Why can't the process be more scientific,\" The Doctor grumbled, more than to themself than to Andreas. Stuff to do with something as unpredictable as feelings had never been their strong suit, they preferred cold, hard, scientific reasoning. Facts and logic, experiments and evidence, that was comfortable for them. This... Wasn't. However, unlike with most times they were dragged out of their comfort zone, they were actually willing to try. To go through the difficulties, because it seemed like, in the end, it would be worth it. Andreas Would be worth it.\n\n\"I... Don't think I'll be able to aid you in your search today,\" They said reluctantly. \"I would really like to, but... I have work to do.\" Peoples' lives depended on them - there was no way they would be able to abandon that. \"But I should be free in a few days, I think.\" Should they plan out a meeting with him for once, instead of depending on random chance? Now that'd be something.\n\nThough they tried their best to hide it, the Doctor's annoyance clearly rose slightly at Andreas' concerned words. \"I'll clean it,\" They said stubbornly and started to try to squeeze out from under him. \"It doesn't take that much energy, and I don't want to invite any questions from anyone that'll clean the room after us. The risk to both of us is too great.\"" }, { "author": "Andreas Featherfall", "message": "Andreas would chuckle as he heard them grumble about it. \"The scientific process is more off how the different things make your body react to it. Just will have to try and see with it all. I'm sure you read things before to know some stuff.\" He would rub their head as he wanted them to not worry so much. \"Just give it time okay?\" \n\n\"You don't need to aid me in looking, I'm more than capable of looking around myself for a few days. Find who has what for places.\" He would need something in a good range just would have to see what they had available. \"How about I meet you here in a few days? In the afternoon? We could look at some places and than stop somewhere for something warm to drink.\"\n\nAndreas would sigh as he could tell it wasn't going to change, they were going to do it anyway. \"Fine fine, I concede. Just didn't need you tired before you were going to work. But I get your point. No need to be annoyed that I'm just worried about you overdoing it so soon.\" He'd let them move away as he just simply sat up. No use making this turn into a fight." }, { "author": "Doctor Jones", "message": "They couldn't help it, the slightest blush spread over their cheeks at Andreas' mention of their body reacting to things, which did kind of aid in proving his point - that reaction was not a voluntary one either. Still, thinking of it... They covered their face with their hands to try and ease the awkwardness, and more importantly, hide their reaction from Andreas even if there was no doubt he'd already seen it. Not saying a word, they nodded simply, taking a few deep breaths to try and slow their racing heart.\n\nAt least the conversation had the decency not to linger on the moment for too long. Having calmed down, the Doctor lowered their hands and sat up as well, giving a nod. \"That sounds quite nice.\" They crossed their legs beneath themself, trying not to think of the fact that this was sounding an awful lot like a date. \"How about... In four days from today, early afternoon?\"\n\nAs they spoke, they started cleaning the blood off their own clothing, which went quite well. Seemingly, all they had to do was hover a hand over the stains, and then it looked like it just vanished. It was a little more complicated than that, of course, but to the outside observer it often looked that simple. With their own clothes cleaned within moments, the Doctor reached out to Andreas to clean his as well, looking as if they'd done it a million times before. \"Sit still, okay?\"" }, { "author": "Andreas Featherfall", "message": "Andreas simply would smile as he didn't want to embarrass them too much but it was one way to say the scientific process it might have. All of it would sure be new but it was cute seeing their reactions to such small things. Maybe he will have to tease a little later when they meet again.\n\nHe was glad they didn't annoyed anymore, he didn't want to cause problems with something he wasn't going to probably win on. \"I think that sounds like a good time, will give a chance to find a few places before looking at them and it should be warm enough than as well. If it isn't as nice of weather we can simply just meet up than.\"\n\nHe'd watch the process of the blood getting cleaned up as it was interesting to see. He was sure it didn't simply just vanish but no need to ask how it worked. Just staying still and watching was enough for him. He would still need to find some blood dealer here that was not no this time. Talk to one's who got from one and so forth." }, { "author": "Doctor Jones", "message": "Luckily, just cleaning off blood was not a terribly difficult process, though it did require their hands getting close to the affected areas - not that the Doctor minded, they were more than happy to do so when it concerned Andreas. They let out a breath when they finished, but didn't seem nearly as winded as they did after actual healing.\n\nOnce they finished, the Doctor scooted closer to Andreas and wrapped their arms around his shoulders, burying their face in the crook of his neck and inhaling deeply. What did he smell like, they wondered to themself. Did he smell nice? More likely, after everything, he probably did need a bath... But they couldn't tell. They couldn't help it, they pressed a soft kiss into his neck, content to just enjoy his warmth.\n\n\"I don't mind bad weather,\" They said softly, not wanting to speak too loudly due to being so close to his ear. \"Or anything... I just want to spend time with you.\" Maybe it was a strange thing to admit, but they didn't care so much right now. They knew their words were true, and that was what mattered." }, { "author": "Andreas Featherfall", "message": "Andreas was glad when they were done. Glad that they didn't seemed as winded. He would hold them as he was fine just letting them rest again his neck. Though it was a surprise once they would kiss his neck. He would freeze up as it did surprise him that they would do that. He would chuckle one he got over the surprise as he just rubbed their back.\n\nHe was glad they didn't try to speak loud, it did help with his high level of hearing. \"I'm glad that you don't mind the bad weather. But I would still rather that it didn't happen. I want you to stay warm and well good.\nAnd yes, I want to spend time with you as well. It's fun no matter what we do.\"\n\nAndreas would be okay with just holding them but no matter what he just felt wanting to do more. He supposed though it would have have to wait. Maybe once he got a place? Least was with a try? \"But as much as I love this, you did say you had work.\"" }, { "author": "Doctor Jones", "message": "Breath hitched at the sudden hand rubbing their back and the Doctor tried their hardest not to freeze up, but they did anyway, though recovered after a few moments. They tried not to mind the feeling, hell, they found it quite soothing, but did Andreas mind? Was he bothered by the way he would easily be able to count their ribs, feel their spine? They knew he wasn't one to judge, but they were so used to that reaction of disgust, of discomfort whenever people got close enough to realize it, that they almost expected it from him.\n\nThat did lead to another problem, one they hadn't considered before - the fact that those things they'd like to try doing with him, likely would involve being in a state that was... Less than properly dressed, and if there was one thing they were uncomfortable with, it was that. There was a reason their preferred clothing style was anything that covered them fully, preferably baggy clothing that left even more to the imagination, even if it made them look a lot younger than they were, to the point where many mistook them for a teenager. All of this brought so many difficulties with it... But they so desperately wanted it to continue.\n\nThey squeezed him a little tighter, keeping their face hidden completely. \"I know I should go,\" The Doctor grumbled, \"But I really don't want to... I want to stay with you, right here, right now.\" They were quiet for a few moments, then reluctantly pulled away, gaze kept low. \"Just... Be careful, please, and... Make sure to rest so that you can recover. Okay?\"" }, { "author": "Andreas Featherfall", "message": "Andreas kept his movements slow so they git used to it. He knew this was something they didn't think others wanted to see or anything like that. But he didn't mind, sure it was still concerning to feel their spine and ribs just because he knew what it meant but he didn't mind it. Sure if possible later on he would try to help them but that was it. He wasn't disgusted by it.\n\nAll he could do was just let them get used to the idea of him touching them. To make them get used to knowing he doesn't care how they are going to look or anything like that. He simply just wanted to be around them like they wanted to be around him.\n\nHe rubbed their head as they held on a little tighter he wanted them to feel comforted for as long as he could give it to them. \"Oh I know what you mean. If you want you can stay, if not well you can go. I won't force you either way. But if you do go I will behave and rest some. I will be careful as well so you need not worry. I should be mostly healed by the time we meet again.\"" }, { "author": "Doctor Jones", "message": "It was oddly tempting to stay, to hold Andreas close and stay with him for the rest of the day, if not longer, but that sense of responsibility was impossible to shake off. After considering it for a long while, the Doctor reluctantly declined the offer with a shake of the head, exhaling a long sigh.\n\n\"I can't stay,\" They said softly, \"There are people that need me.\" It felt like a shame to always have to disappear so early in the mornings, but that was the downside with these unplanned meetings, wasn't it? Which was why the next meeting was planned, so that they wouldn't have to leave so early for once. Maybe it was silly... But they were already looking forward to it.\n\nThe Doctor got to their feet and stretched before turning back to Andreas. \"You'd better behave,\" They told him, \"Otherwise you'll meet with some very dire consequences.\" It was hard to tell if it was a joke or a serious threat, considering their deadpan expression as they said it.\n\nThough it was tempting to just walk out and leave, get it over and done with, they were struck with a sudden urge to be a little bolder... He wouldn't mind, right? And so, they stepped closer to Andreas, cupped his cheeks, and kissed him on the lips, pulling away after a long few moments with the tiniest hint of a smile on their lips, though it was hard to see. There. Now they could go." }, { "author": "Andreas Featherfall", "message": "\"I figured you wouldn't be able to bit doesn't hurt to try. Least the next time we meet will have a bit more planned and in a good way this time.\" Though he didn't want to let them go he would so they could get up. Maybe the days would go quickly so it was the meet time.\n\nHe could help but chuckle at their threat of him needing to behave. He didn't know what they might do if it was real but he almost wanted to just test it out. \"Don't worry I will behave like a good Aasimar, no biting anyone and causing trouble with the other kids\" He really didn't mind the little threat.\n\nHe was about to ask what it could possibly be for consequences but was stopped by the kiss. He really got surprised with their boldness at times. But he liked it, it showed they were opening up and taking a more lively look on life more. He couldn't help but smirk as he would decide to be a small tease as he'd take their one hand and kiss it like he was some knight. \"Well than till we meet again. I will behave and be waiting for the afternoon of the fourth day.\"" } ]	334	93,321
551.62069	1776-07-04	GuildPublicThread	[ { "author": "Zrembeth Vrardru", "message": "```Slayers Square, Blythwim```\n\nThe sun shone bright in the sky over the town of Blythwim. Yet it would not shine upon the townsfolk who call this place home. For many of them have fled from its streets to take shelter in their houses, taverns, anywhere which would keep the out of sight of the brutal maiden. The presence of Blythwim's dragon was enough to send terror far and wide. For all know wherever she goes, death falls upon anyone unfortunate enough to earn her ire. Following close behind here a collection of her royal guard and a few members of her court. Although these protectors followed the countess from behind, none dared stand in front of her.\n\nIt wouldn't be long until they reached their destination of The Slayer's Square. The center of Blythwim, and one which earned that dreadful title once Zrembeth took power. It was the place she conducted executions of any and all who she deemed enemies of Lazaroth. Thieves, smugglers, bandits, liberators, dissenters, all were brought to this very square to be beheaded by the countess herself. It was this act which brought order to Blythwim. Brought it safety from the enemies within and to send a message to its enemies beyond. And it was here that all of Lazaroth learned the title of this new wicked ruler.\n\nThe Dragon\n\nThat dreaded armored dragon now rested on a seat provided for her by one of her retainers. Her gaze fixed forward and unyielding. It was clear she was waiting, but for what?\n\nAn enemy.\n\nShe had received the message from the honored Duchess. Of a Findaran. A male. A knight. A fool who stepped onto her nations shores and demanded to face her in battle. How the dragon's fire burned inside her when she learned of this. Had it been any other upstart from that land of weakness she'd ignore it. But he approached the Duchess instead of her. There would be no question, she was going to nail his broken body to her castle wall for this. But not before brutalizing him before her people. \n\nFor the dragon was a wicked creature. But she was Lazaroth's protector. The beast unleashed upon its foes. She would prove to Blythwim, as well as Lazaroth as a whole, they had nothing to fear. Any who wished to harm her people would face her wrath. And her fury will be unrelenting." }, { "author": "Brakteon Wealbrig", "message": "The Old Guard Dog, Ex-Knight of the Findaran royal court, and first son of his house, Brakteon Anteel Wealbrig was in over his head, he knew that more than anyone else, but yet, as he walked towards his apparent doom there was a sense of messed up joy in his heart.\n\n His meeting with the Duchess had been meaningful, but it had been a battle of words, and he had to tailor his sentences so he wouldn't be disrespectful. He had to hold himself back from speaking his mind. He always hated that. \n\n He always despised having to speak with a collar around his neck, even though the results were in his favor. But here, against this woman of horrid nature, this Dragon As they called her here, he did not need to mince any words. \n\n No. Here, the only sound that mattered was the clang of metal as their blades struck. He could use his sword to speak his mind, and the Brightmoon Claymore hummed in agreement.\n\n However, he knew he could die today. \n\n As trained as he was, as dangerous as he was in combat, this Dragon had one thing on him that he did not. Age. She had been fighting battles longer than him and had become so dangerous that she had earned the name Dragon.\n\n And so, even with the glee of fighting a powerful opponent, he could not ignore the chance that he could meet his end at her blade. \n\n Brakteon was not foolish enough to deny his family the sword for his selfish reasons, so far above, out of his view, flew an Aarakocra named Lyu.\n\nShe was under his Mother's employ and had waited for him to recognize her scent before she approached him after he left the Duchess' estate. Brakteon and her spoke, and though she did not disagree outright with his plan, he could tell she did not agree with it. \n\n The plan was that if he fell she was to swoop in and take the sword back to Findara, as well as a message from him that was made of three words. \n\n \"Do not avenge me.\"\n\n This was his problem, his battle, and if it came to it, his death. \n\n 🌕\n\n Brakteon walked into the Slayers Square without courtesy, cape billowing in the wind as he looked to the audience of armed guards and well-dressed nobles. Sitting in front of them all was an armored woman, and it was clear this was her domain. \n\n It was also clear that she was fixed on killing him. \n\n There would be no respect in this encounter, she was not interested in such docile actions. \n\n Brakteon cracked his knuckles and his neck, pulled off his cape, and then pulled the Brightmoon Claymore. Despite the shining sun, the blade glowed its odd blue hue. \n\n \"I am Brakteon Anteel Wealbrig of the Wealbrig house,\" He announced only for the sake of her knowing who she was fighting against. She probably knew, and she probably did not care. But he said it regardless, because if he was to die today then he would do so knowing that he kept true to his name." }, { "author": "Zrembeth Vrardru", "message": "The gates of Blythwim hang open. Two members of the Countess's honor guard stood watch as Brakteon entered the city of the slain. Slowly the great gate would shut, the wolf now cornered, with no way out but through. No words would be exchanged as the two would escort the Findaran to the center of town. The streets themselves would be barren of any of its people. All of them locked away in their homes out of fear of the dragon and her servants who now prowl the streets. Delivering the newest lamb to its hungry jaws.\n\nThe city square was spacious. The Countess herself not difficult to pick out from the crowd of knights and warriors. Among the women who stand around their lord, there was an air of authority that surrounded the countess. The figured armored from head to toe that the crowd of knights just seemed to form around rather than within. All of them immediately standing at attention when the challenger was brought before them.\n\nCountess Vrardru herself would remain unflinching as he took a step forward. Her knights all grabbing for weapons, shields, anything to protect their countess from this upstart who stepped into their home. Tensions dropped slightly as he introduced himself to them. Brakteon, the son of House Wealbrig. While they were no longer moments away from cutting at his flesh it was clear this wasn't the same welcome the duchess gave him. He was not welcome. Yet here he was regardless.\n\nThere would be no response from the countess. Only a gesture followed by one of her knights stepping forward. A young Drow of somewhat small stature. Armored like the rest but rather than iron and metal she wore was lighter. A padded gambison and leather gloves. Her arming sword resting right at her hip. Her white hair pulled and pressed into a dignified bun. Unlike the rest of her group, she would give a quick bow to the knight before speaking.\n\n```\"I am Apollys. Daughter of Nembis and servant of Lazaroth. I will be speaking on behalf of my lady\"```\n\n\nThe Drow explained before turning to the countess and repeating what Brakteon had said earlier. Only she was translating it into Drowish. Unfortunately, Zrembeth didn't speak a word of Common. And Brakteon's Drowish was lacking.\n\nThe Countess nodded in response to the translation. She rose from the seat beneath her as she stood at her full height, towering over the smaller Drow. Her hand resting on a dagger resting at her waist. Oddly enough, it seemed to be the only weapon she had at the moment. Was she going to go into battle with that?\n\nShe spoke to Apollys who in turn gave another bow before facing Brakteon once again.\n\n```\"Lady Vrardru states you have challenged her. To defend the honor of beloved Lazaroth she accepts. This battle will be fought until death, with the victor having defending their respective homeland. She wishes to offer you an opportunity before you begin to rescind your challenge, sing your praises of Lazaroth and leave with your life.\"```" }, { "author": "Brakteon Wealbrig", "message": "Brakteon was silent as he looked at everyone who surrounded him. From their reactions they were cautious, but not afraid, because why would they be? They had this lady Vradru to defend them, to defend their land as the young drow had put it. \n\n Pompous. Arrogant. But powerful. \n\n Without even having clashed Brakteon knew this was going to be difficult, however, he hadn't come this way because he expected an easy fight. \n\n He knew of death, it clung to his shoulders every day, and he would not be frightened by someone who had someone else speak for them.\n\n Brakteon looked back at Apollys as blood seeped into his eyes turning them harsh red. \"Tell your Lady that I do not care for Lazaroth, and I do not care for Findara either. I do not fly my Kingdom's banner, nor do I come to defend any sort of honour for my Kingdom. Despite my name and House, I am here for my own matters and mine alone.\"\n\n He looked down at his trusted sword, his oldest companion, and then he faced his opponent. \"And if I meet death here, then I would do so with what little honour that I have left.\"" }, { "author": "Zrembeth Vrardru", "message": "There was a quiet nod from Apollys who in turn began to repeat what Brakteon had said to Zrembeth. This would be the only time that she would avert her gaze from the wolf, giving her attention to the young Drow before turning it back upon her opponent before her. Aside from her eyes it was impossible to discern what her thoughts were beneath her helm. Anger? Excitement? Resignation? Whatever her feelings they would remain buried beneath a grave of metal. \n\nThe countess would give her response to the young knight. Her words a language the wolf did not understand but with pure clarity that showed she was void of any fears one may have when entering into a battle to the death. Apollys would step to the side as Zrembeth took her own step forward. Grabbing the dagger which rested on her waist and held it within her hand. Within a matter of less than a second a bright light enveloped the blade as it formed a refined, Lazarothi longsword. A blade much more suiting one an occasion such as this.\n\n```\"Lady Vrardru has found your response lacking, I'm afraid. She states your refusal to defend your homeland is an act of selfishness and cowardess. A trait she finds befitting of a child of loathed Findara\"```\n\nApollys put Zrembeth's words in a far more polite manner than what she wanted to say. Who was this outsider? This fool who challenged her to a duel to the death and not for the honor of his home? Was his plan to slay her for the sake of ego? To return home to brag about becoming the Dragon Slayer? Everything she had done was for Lazaroth's sake. For her queen. She became the monster that she was for the sake of defending her home. And now this wretched seeked to deprive Lazaroth of its monster for 'his own matters?' Whatever matters were his own, her decision to slay him were only solidified.\n\n```\"The duel will conclude upon death or yield. Although the opponent is not required to accept ones surrender. Attempts to flee will mean the intervention of Lady Vrardru's honor guard. Attempts against any other than Lady Vrardru will result in intervention. Involvement of other parties will result in intervention. If you accept, you have been gifted the first blow to begin this duel.\"```" }, { "author": "Brakteon Wealbrig", "message": "Brakteon rolled his eyes at Apollys response from Vradru. Selfish. Now two royals of this accursed Kingdom had called him selfish, but what did they know? How was he selfish for wanting to avenge his befallen friend? What was selfish in doing whatever it took to see the end of those that gave him this fucking scar? They ruined his name! Ruined his face! His life!\n\n All he had ever done had been for someone else. He never asked to be the first son, and all he had done was what he was fated to do. The sword in his hand was meant to be honored, yet on his watch, they killed his Charge because he dared to go against the belief that owning another man was wrong. And now, in this fucking Kingdom, they thought they had any right to call him selfish. \n\n WHO THE FUCK ARE THEY TO CALL US SELFISH?!\n\n The rage brimmed to the surface, and his grip on his sword tightened. His breath became ragged huffs, his wolf blood boiling beneath his skin, howling in his mind, demanding freedom from the chains of rational thought. And Brakteon wanted to let his mind sink away into violence. He wanted to finally be free. \n\n But then he closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He let the cold air flow through him, freezing over the rage that threatened to be his undoing. He would not be a victim of his rage. He would not become undone by the snide remark of an arrogant tyrant. \n\n He came here for a reason. To let the Sisters know that their actions have consequences. That he was that consequence.\n\nVengeance was horrid, but it was also the nature of things. \n\n Brakteon opened his eyes again, the rage behind them now replaced with great focus, and then he raised his sword. He saw the magic of Vrardu's blade, a shapeshifter, meaning he could not rely on her keeping the longsword throughout the fight. \n\n That was certainly troublesome, but he would have to hope that if it did change shape, then his lack of reaction speed would be saved by his armor.\n\n Still, hope was a brittle thing. \n\n The gift of the first blow was certainly a hoax. Of that, he was sure. However, it was a chance to have the upper hand, and so with a whispered prayer to the gods, Brakteon swung the Family sword with all his at the Dragon's Head." }, { "author": "Zrembeth Vrardru", "message": "The countess watched as the knight took his first step. Followed by another. His approach was decisive, no sign of hesitation within him either. He was an arrogant mongrel, as spineless as Findaran's come. But hopefully his merit as a warrior isn't lacking. She adjusts her grip, both hands now holding the handle as she lets its point be directed toward Brakteon. As standard a stance as it comes for swordsmen. Her eyes would scan every part of the Oathbreaker. The bend of his legs, the flex of his arms, the glimmer of his blade. As brutal as The Dragon was, she was no fool. A master combatant who had wielded the blade long before Brakteon had even been alive. She intended to learn whatever she could about this opponent before making a move.\n\nBoth hands would hold the great sword as it dragged along the ground beside him. A sudden horizontal swing would be directed right at her. The speed and ease at which it was done indicated that underneath all that armor Wealbright was in possession of a great deal of strength. A hypothesis she already had upon first seeing him. They were near similar in height and build and such a large weapon was an indicator of one who values strength in a battle. A cleave from such a weapon would be akin to the force of a rampaging Chorg.\n\nShe wondered what his plan was. He had expect her to do something with him having the opening strike, but she could tell he was already going straight for the head. A killing blow right as the fight began. \n\n```Blocking such a strike would be impulsive. Softening the blow only by so much or possibly even shattering my blade. Perhaps he wants to see if it would regrow if it was shattered. Either that or he expect the obvious. To see if I am able to dodge. He's planning something. I'll give him neither```\n\nAs the blade neared her neck, the countess would remain perfectly still. Even with death barreling toward her she would not flinch, not falter, not waver in the slightest. Waiting just for the exact moment for Brakteon to put all his force into the strike so he can't back out.\n\n```He's overextended```\n\nAnd from its slumber The Dragon awakens as within a flash her blade clashed into the bottom of Brakteon's great sword. The blade was pushed upwards as she used her strength to sent it mere inches above her head, only letting it fall back to the ground when she was out of harms way. Leaving Brakteon to deal with the intense momentum from such a swing that didn't hit its mark. All the while her knights could be heard in awe of such a parry. How could they not? She hasn't moved a single inch from a strike that could cleave a man in half.\n\nShe didn't take this opportunity to strike Brakteon while he stumbled. She simply returned to the stance she had before. She wasn't done learning about the wolf just yet. Let him tire himself trying to get through her defenses. For she knew that he had never faced a warrior like her before" }, { "author": "Brakteon Wealbrig", "message": "Brakteon had expected a parry or a dodge even though he swung with all his might, and though the former was more in line with his expectations, he still winced at the recoil that came from her blade clashing with his. \n\n Fortunately, this was not his first time going against a greatsword like his own. He knew there were few stances one could attain with a heavy weapon, and though she was skilled, he reckoned he had more experience with the colossal weapon.\n\n Before Brakteon could stumble any further, he drove the sword into the ground to stop himself, and then, without bothering to look back, Brakteon aimed two fingers at the Lady. \n\n The plan was simple, at least for now. She had an array of weapons in her arsenal, and he needed to know just how quickly she could switch between them. \n\n Close-range with the sword and long-range with spells. He would manage his mana by relying on beginner spells. \n\n \"CHAOS BOLT; LIGHTNING.\" Upon his command, twin bolts of blue electricity shot from his hand to the knight. He did not put much force in the spell, and it was because he knew he felt it wouldn't hit. He was calculating how best to go about this, and he did not plan on dragging this out longer than he needed to. \n\n Every second he spent here was a second that the Sisters got to live, and he hated that." }, { "author": "Zrembeth Vrardru", "message": "The Dragon witnessed her opponent stumble after her successful defense to his initial assault. The force of his swing being drove right into the earth as he stabbed through the very cobblestone that they stood upon. As she adjusted her stance she had to admit, she was surprised that he had enough strength to be able to drive that blade through solid stone. Yet there was also the irritation that came at the sight of damage, no matter how slight, being done to her city of Blythwin. A sharp breath would escape beneath her helm. A moment of tension as she gripped her blade. But she would not let it consume her. She would enact bloody justice in time.\n\nYet as she waited for him to stand, he would suddenly point at her with two of his fingers. Muttering something in Common that she unfortunately didn't understand. It seemed the language barrier between the two benefitted Brakteon this once, she stood form expecting this to be him muttering a curse or insult of some kind. Likely upset that his predictable attack was so easily parried. The only one who understood his words was the knight, Apollys. By the time she noticed the panicked look in the eyes of her honor guard it was already too late. \n\nHer eyes widened at the sight of crackling mana at the tips of his fingers. By the time she took her first step to move the bolt fired as it collided right at her left shoulder. The Dragon would feel the wind knocked out of her lungs. Her armor, taking the brunt of the damage yet the impact strong enough to knock the countess to the ground. \n\n```\"A mage... By the blessed queen, this complicate matters\"```\n\nPressing her hands to the ground she grabbed her blade, working herself back onto her feet. She was fine, a light injury and a lesson in underestimating this Findaran dog. She wouldn't make that mistake twice. Brakteon wouldn't get the drop on her again now that she knew what he was capable of.\n\nAnd this fight was far from over." }, { "author": "Brakteon Wealbrig", "message": "Brakteon's face remained calm despite having landed the spell. He held back the surprise which came from the lightning hitting her, mostly because that joy was short-lived. Instead, he broke down what happened for him to have struck her in the first place. \n\n From how she could not dodge, Brakteon speculated that she had been unaware of the spell, either by language barrier or because she could not sense mana. \n\n Either way, he had an advantage, whether by language or casting. He did not understand drowish, but he caught the words she had used when on the ground. Mage. \n\n The Countess did not seem accustomed to the madness that came from magic. He could use spells to counter her ferocity. \n\n But that didn't mean the fight was his. He had been bested by non-magicians before, and from the look of resilience in her eyes, she was not going to let him have that chance again. She would close the distance and force Brakteon into combat, which she was more confident in than he was, at the moment.\n\n Brakteon also noticed that the weapon did not revert to the dagger state despite not being in her hand. That ruined an initial plan he had been forming earlier, but no matter. For now, there was a small unspoken understanding between the two knights. They were not to underestimate each other.\n\nThe Grey Oathbreaker stood fully and faced the Countess. He rolled the Claymore in his hand, pointed it forward, and then started circling her with slow calculated steps, ensuring to keep eye contact as he walked. \n\n He felt she was waiting for him to strike first, his spell might have put her on edge, and Brakteon knew it was best to keep her on edge, but he was also running out of time. \n\n So he stopped the circling and rushed forward at his opponent, swinging his sword with precise fury, aiming the attacks at possible points that would have her lose her footing or grip on her sword." }, { "author": "Zrembeth Vrardru", "message": "Even when knocked to the ground Zrembeth still radiated an air of malice toward anything within a swords length of her. The Oathbreaker stunned enough at his own success with his prior attack that he chose not to capitalize on a fallen opponent. Though considering how effortlessly she defended herself at the start of this fight perhaps such caution was warranted.\n\nThe Countess herself would suffer no complication in returning to form. The pain still radiated throughout her shoulder but she wouldn't let it register beyond simple acknowledgement that she had sustained damage. Keep fighting. Keep moving. Expect to suffer. Recognize it and move on. \n\nHer eyes stared through the narrow slit that was her helm at Brakteon. His own gaze unflinching as he held luminated blade. A claymore. Greatsword. Whatever one wished to call it. A two handed blade that he treated as though it were a simple arming sword. Rolling it like it weighed nothing. Holding a sword meant to sever spines and cleave horses in a single swing with one hand as he pointed it toward The Dragon as though it were a rapier.\n\nAn enchantment? Perhaps. It did glow. But that couldn't be all it did, did it? He had already established himself as a spellsword. Great strength? Also possible. But the momentum generated alone for the latter would have had that handle snap after quite some time. A scowl underneath her helm, she was working with little information. But with what little she had, she had to make do.\n\nShe studied his stance, his blade, his armor. A plan she concocted as Brakteon attempted to intimidate her with little success. And when he finally lunged she acted accordingly.\n\nDefense was a priority. Her parries wouldn't be as flashy as her first. Both hands focusing on directing the blade away from her body. Trying not to take the force of the weapon head on. But with her long sword that would prove difficult. She began to step back, Brakteon winning momentum with each swing as his weapon sliced through the wind with glee.\n\nBut as he chipped away at her defenses, she did not falter. Where lesser warriors would slip up, she let him focus all his attention into the attack. At points intentionally inviting various close calls, parrying at the last possible moment, encouraging the wolf to put even more effort in.\n\nWhen he finally overextended it would be a downward strike. As he began to pull his blade back up Zrembeth acted like lightning. Her steel boot would reach toward the upper base of the blade, stomping on the flat end with all her weight. Either disarming him, or as she expected, causing him to lean forward in an attempt to hold the blade. \n\nHe would be right where she wanted him. Leaning forward herself, one hand would grab onto Brakteon's wrist. Within a moment they were chest to chest. Close enough to tear out each others throats. A position for a greatsword wielder, who utilized the weapons length, closing the distance like this would make it too awkward to get a good swing in. Making harming her next to impossible without creating distance.\n\nBut she had no intentions on letting go. Her grip was like iron and her will like steel.\n\nWith a flash, her longsword changed shape again. This time into that of a weapon befitting an armored foe. \n\nA mace. A weapon which brought the end of many an armored knight.\n\nAs she held Brakteon with one arm, the other would swing directed right at his head, planning on crashing into his skull before he even realizes she's grappled him. Even if he stepped to the side in time, he wouldn't be able to move his body away enough to avoid it striking somewhere else along his upper body.\n\nAnother victim of Zrembeth's martial brilliance." }, { "author": "Brakteon Wealbrig", "message": "Brakteon was winning. His strength proved superior to hers even though her speed was greater than his, but her parries were getting weaker while his arms refused to give in to the burn that came from swinging the claymore. He closed in each swing, their dance ferocious, the song of metal against metal screaming through the cold air. \n\n If not for the threat of death, if not for his mission, if not for vengeance, Brakteon would have cracked a smile and thanked the Countess for allowing him to fight like this. \n\n But this fight, though beautiful, was not out of kindness. \n\n The Countess was waiting for something, and Brakteon could not tell what. He continued the assault, ensuring that his aim was set on any gaps in her armor, but then his focus on her sword made him forget that she too was a weapon. \n\n When she suddenly kicked against his sword, Brakteon's grip remained true, however, he was forced to lean forward so her attempt to disarm him would fail. \n\n Unfortunately, the cost was the gap between them. She was so close that he could stare into the harsh eyes behind her helm. They glowed in a way one should only see in a beast, and in some ways, she was one. Brakteon hadn't registered the death grip on his wrist until the flash of her weapon changing caught his eye. \n\n The longsword shrunk and became a robust mace, the natural weapon of all well-armored fighters. As she rose it high, he tried to step away and then felt her fingers tighten. She had closed the gap and robbed him of space.\n\nHer plan to end the fight was genius, he admitted that. But Brakteon also knew he too was a beast in more ways than one. \n\n There was no dodging, not at this size, so in a moment, the towering Brakteon Anteel Wealbrig, for the first time in years shifted. It was quick, in one moment, there was a wolf-man, and in the next, a large dire wolf was in his place. \n\n The shape change did not save him from injury, the sharp thorns of the mace scraped against his scalp, drawing blood, but he had avoided a much more gruesome fate.\n\n In his wolf form, Brakteon snapped at the neck of his countess, causing her to lean back a moment, a moment Brakteon used to push her back with his paws, aiming his strength, particularly at her left shoulder. \n\n The push let his paw slip through her hand, and when he landed, he snarled at her for a second before shifting back into the man-wolf form. \n\n The blood still pooled from the injury, dying the fur on his forehead bright red, but regardless, Brakteon picked up his sword again and stepped into a defense stance. \n\n He had not done that in ages. He could feel his muscles trying to catch up with the sudden change, but he hoped that his evasion of what would have killed most foes would give the Countess a moment to regard him carefully. If not, for now, he would be on the defensive." }, { "author": "Zrembeth Vrardru", "message": "The Countess felt the pull of the mace as it caught itself against the wolf's fur. A sound strike. Her eyes narrowed. Her teeth grit as she twisted herself forward, putting even more force behind her strike as a splatter of crimson splashed against her armor. Her grip tightened around Brakteon's wrist as she felt his resistance. His dying sputter. His last attempts to save himself. Even if he proved greater in strength their difference was minor enough to escape in time. The Dragon was fully prepared to add Brakteon's body to the many who have fallen within the Slayer's Square.\n\nShe'd fail to notice the sound of cracking bones was not simply that of the wolves skull, but rather his whole body as within moments he began to shift and morph before her. Her eyes widened in surprise as she stumbled to keep her stance. The Findaran's arm going downward as he transformed. By the time she was able to process what was before her she was already having to defend herself.\n\nThe Wolf snapped at The Dragon. Earning him distance as she stepped backwards on the defense. She knew full well she didn't have a weapon capable of parrying several dozen razor sharp teeth aiming right at her throat. Only to be thrown back several feet as that very wolf sent her flying back prone as she had once been before.\n\nAgain, this was minor damage. Quickly she rolled onto her knees to begin standing again when she witnessed her opponent shift back into the form he had at the start of this duel. Blood pooling down her side as clear signs of fatigue began to show. \n\nRather than beginning his assault anew, he adopted a defensive stance. That strike certainly did more than it seemed. For once, the momentum was now in her favor. Now wasn't the time to hesitate. To give him a chance to recover. That transformation winded him and he was likely concussed. Not to mention his earlier assault.\n\nAll the while Zrembeth was still full of stamina. Her one attack she had made this fight doing far more then Brakteon's flurry of slashes. \n\nOnce she was stood her mace adopted its longsword form again as she began an assault of her own. One to put Brakteon on the defense and drive him into exhaustion. She wouldn't make any extensions of her own, lest he try her previous strategy. At the moment, Zrembeth had the advantage. And to keep it, she had to act wisely. But also decisively." }, { "author": "Brakteon Wealbrig", "message": "Brakteon gritted his teeth when the Dragon charged at him. His shapeshifting had surprised her but not long enough for her to practice caution. She saw the moment and took it, and Brakteon's bleeding head and aching bones were not helping his situation. Still, he was not out of this fight. He could fend her off as he tried to make up a plan. \n\n And so the dance began anew, though their roles were switched this time. While Brakteon was strong enough to parry her swings, he was not fast enough to deflect all of them. Her blade, though almost as long as his claymore, seemed lighter to her. Every fourth attack landed on his armor, and one even managed to bite into his leg, which caused him to stumble for a moment before he managed to dodge the following attack. \n\n Brakteon was getting tired, and it seemed that the thrill of killing him fueled the Countess to push further despite the injured shoulder. \n\n And then it happened. An epiphany that was brought by remembering the teachings of his old sorcery Master. \n\n It was madness in hindsight because the chances of it working were slim. Despite how she came at him, Brakteon could tell she was now overextending herself. She shifted back whenever he wanted to close the distance and kept him at bay by swinging at his face, knowing he would dodge.\n\nBut he was running out of time. \n\n Brakteon continued the slow parries, his arms losing their strength, and then he saw it. The moment. \n\n The Countess swung, a precise slice that would have cut into his side, and rather than deflect the sword away from himself, Brakteon slammed the flat of his sword against hers, directing the attack straight into his thigh. The sword cut into the armor, drawing blood, but rather than howl out in pain, Brakteon pointed two fingers at his opponent. \n\n She would not fall for this a second time. Brakteon could already feel her sword changing shape and see her feet shifting back, but this was not a precise mana shot because he knew she would sidestep it with ease. \n\n This was a blast of power erupting from his body. \n\n \"THUNDERWAVE!\"" }, { "author": "Zrembeth Vrardru", "message": "The Dragon's advancement was unrelenting. Every swing of her blade, every step forward that she took chipped away at Brakteon's defenses. The blood from his open wound splattered the ground around her as he tried to protect himself. She could practically feel the strain his body was undergoing. The burning of his limbs. The pounding of his heart. It wouldn't be long now until he was devoured by the dragons flames. Another enemy of Lazaroth felled and beaten.\n\nShe felt the buckling of her opponents knees as she cleaved another strike he was barely able to protect himself from. This was the moment. Twisting her body she adjusted her new stance in the prime position to swing. A sideways slash aiming to decapitate the wolf in one clean strike. \n\nOnly before blade was able to meet flesh a burst of mana crackled through the air from the tips of her opponents fingers. A loud burst like the crashing of thunder erupted. Drowning out all other sounds as the Countess was sent soaring. \n\nPain rippled through her body from the impact. The very air knocked out of her lungs as she tried to collect herself. Protect herself whatever way she could to no avail as she crashed onto the ground hard. Her armor doing little to low the impact as she hit the cobblestone with a heavy thud.\n\nShe lay on her back, eyes facing upward and her blade knocked from her grip and resting about a good few feet away. Just out of reach. It was safe to say the spell Brakteon utilized was very effective." }, { "author": "Brakteon Wealbrig", "message": "The Wolf stood tall over the Dragon, his amber eyes staring at her without pride, satisfaction, or even rage. Knocking her back and disarming her was a feat not many could boast about, especially not a Findaran noble. If he wanted to ensure this advantage he could continue attacking her with spells while she was down. \n\n He had still held back his power, even restricting himself from Blood magic, but Brakteon looked to the people around him instead. Would they truly be okay with him killing her? Was the pride of these people so much that they would allow such? In front of all her subordinates?\n\n This was not why he had come here. He had not traversed these cold lands to cause the strenuous relationship between the Kingdoms to be made worse. \n\n This was not his enemy. The Brightmoon Claymore has bled many deserving, and maybe if he was on some righteous crusade, then he would continue this battle, but the road of vengeance is crooked and filled with jagged stones. Brakteon did not walk it as some savior. He needed the Countess, and he hoped that whatever gods had helped him this far would help him convince her. \n\n He touched his bleeding leg, the wound was harsh, though nothing he had not walked away with. He also knew that having it when fighting, if she decided his death was worth more than that of the Sisters, was a bad idea. So, with a deep breath, Brakteon quickly applied Sanguine Recovery to himself, causing the wounds he had to close. Atleast halfway, he still needed the mana if she proved difficult.\n\nBrakteon stepped forward and then stopped, his eyes falling on her sword. There was no telling whether she could recall it or not, if he got within striking distance his head could be rolling a moment later, so he stayed at a distance and drove his sword into the ground. A sign of pause, but he kept his grip on the handle so he could respond to an attack if it came. \n\n \"Who did they take from you?\" Brakteon asks in Drowish, his accent scratched terribly against the language, and he felt that he might have messed up a word there, but he kept speaking regardless in a low enough tone that he knew only she would hear. \"The Sisters of Salvation have struck me too, cowardly taking the life of a friend, and I came this way for help, as I was sent by the Duchess... In a sense. I do not expect you to believe me, but I do not lie. I need your help, Countess Zrembeth Vrardru. Aid me in sending them all to the pits.\" \n\n Brakteon gripped his sword tightly, and in his free hand, he readied a spell. He was not good at diplomacy, he was not good at reading people's expressions, only their attacks. So he prepared for the worst, but silently prayed for the best." }, { "author": "Zrembeth Vrardru", "message": "Impulses were all that shot through Zrembeth as she lay. Within a matter of seconds she went from advancing with a burst of momentum. Calculated strikes all aimed at wearing down her foe as she tore away every scrap of his armor. To lying prone, dazed, and disarmed. She'd face spellslingers before. Even spellswords fell at her feet. But Brakteon was different. It was as though his magic and his blade were connected, rather than two separate weapons. His feint was masterful enough to get the upper hand against The Dragon.\n\nThere were a handful of gasps from the crowd of knights surrounding her. A few exchanging worried glances at the sight of their Countess. An expression that Wealbrig would never get from the Dragon herself, but a sign that things were finally in his own corner.\n\nZrembeth herself flailed her arms and legs against the stone. Her vision was blurred, her ears were ringing, and she gasped for air which had been forced from her chest. She knew not of what Wealbrig had planned or what he was doing, but all she knew was she was in the worst place for a warrior to be and she was desperately trying to fix that.\n\nBy the time her vision cleared was when the bright gleam of his glowing blade reflected off her armor. Rolling onto her stomach as she pushed herself onto her knees, wild eyes looking everywhere she could for where her weapon had gone.\n\nHe could end her. Though the Dragon was still armored, lightly injured and more than willing to beat Brakteon to death with her fists if needed. Her death was a very real possibility.\n\nShe prepared to dive. To lunge in a desperate attempt to rearm herself. She would almost certainly be struck in the attempt. She'd have to power through it and hope the damage wasn't fatal.\n\nBut before she was ready to make her last attempt to survive, her foe would join her in disarment. Driving his own blade once more through the stone. \n\n```Who did they take?```\n\nHis words were strained as he spoke. The language sounding broken on his tongue as though he were reading them aloud. Half of the words were hardly enough to make sense. Fortunate as Zrembeth was the only one close enough to make sense out of his attempt to communicate. \n\nHe knew of her plight with The Sisters.\n\nThe Duchess seems to know as well.\n\nAnd he was requesting her help in their destruction.\n\nThere was a pause as the two stared each other down. Only broken as Zrembeth slowly grabbed at the buckles at the bottom of her help. A few clicks of metal clasps against leather. Slowly, she slid her helm off of her head, revealing the face of The Dragon herself. Beneath the legend, beneath the terror, beneath that title and bulwark of metal, she was just another Drow.\n\nHer knights seemed perplexed. The ones who had not seen her face until now gasped in surprise. The Countess letting the helm hang loosely in her right hand as she caught her breath. Only to whisper one word in response.\n\n\"Yield\"\n\nNot as a threat. But as a request. Or in Zrembeth's case, more of an order.\n\nIt wouldn't be long after she said those words that she advanced suddenly. Swinging her arm upwards as she used her very helmet as an improvised weapon to crash right into Wealbrig's already battered skull.\n\nBut now the question was would he yield after such a blow?" }, { "author": "Brakteon Wealbrig", "message": "\"Yield.\"\n\n Brakteon understood the word perfectly. On his way here, he decided to learn a few words: Yield, die, and eat. He knew that eventually, he would come across one of these words, but he expected the second word to be all he heard from the Countess, and yet here she was whispering it so that only his ears would pick it. \n \n Could his words have reached her? Was his attempt at diplomacy finally paying off? Or was this a trick? \n\n Brakteon pondered it. If he yielded, then what stopped her from swinging his sword and killing him? That would be a testament to her power. The Dragon fell the Wolf with his family's sword. They would write songs about it for ages, and his sword, his family's pride, would be in the hands of the Lazaroth Kingdom. \n\n Then again, he was already here, he had shown his hand and had refused to kill her despite having the upper hand. \n\n The Countess was a harsh creature, but her whispering and proceeding to use her helmet to attack him rather than her sword might have meant she would rather have their conversation elsewhere, that her defeating him before all these people was more of a political move than a necessary one. \n\n Brakteon hated politics, but he understood the necessity of it. \n\n He would have to trust this woman, as difficult as that might be\n\nSo Brakteon took the fall. He pulled his sword free and swung, but he held back his speed, having it so that it would only graze against her armor as the helmet slammed down against his head. \n\n The force behind her swing was a tad overkill for someone who wanted him to yield, and if he was still as injured as before, he might have gotten concussed, instead, all it did was hurt, and he crumbled to a heap at her feet. \n\n It might have looked overplayed, but he never did theatre and never will." }, { "author": "Zrembeth Vrardru", "message": "```\"Another victory, my lady, I never doubted you```\"\n\nSpoke Apollys, finally approaching Zrembeth with the blade of martial flux in her hands. There were very few who earned the right to touch such a weapon, let alone hand it to her. But Apollys was among the fortunate few. Even for the knights who were sworn to her. Zrembeth would give a quiet not, grabbing the weapon by the handle as it shifted back into a dagger form. Returning it to its sheath before glancing down at Wealbrig.\n\n```\"What shall be done with him, my lady? He is beaten yet he still lives. This was a duel to the death, was it not?\"```\n\nA silence between them hung in the air. Zrembeth herself still mulling over whether she would accept this surrender. If she shouldn't place her boot on his neck and stomp. After all, she told him to yield. Never made any promises after that. But... He was a proficient fighter. One who knew what very few didn't. That she was on the hunt for the order of trained killers. The Sisterhood of Salvation. He could have useful information if nothing else. An interrogation in a cell at the very least.\n\nAfter that... Lazaroth had expected blood and it got it. But it had not received the death it was promised. Either that would have to come later or he'd have to offer something worth his own life.\n\n\"Summon Yhstryl. Bandage and heal this man then place him in chains. The fortified cell under watch from two knights. Ensure he's fed and comfortable. But not too much so. I plan to speak to him and decide whether he'll return to this square bereft of chains or bereft of life.\"\n\nA quick nod.\n\n```\"Of course, Lady Vrardru\"```" }, { "author": "Brakteon Wealbrig", "message": "Brakteon underestimated how hard the Dragon of Lazarothi could swing a helmet. Despite his prior healing, he eventually fell victim to the blood loss and lost consciousness when her knights started dragging him back to this cell.\n\n He had woken up for a moment when they were tending to his wounds, but one of the guards got spooked and slammed the butt of his spear on his face, which he guessed resulted in his current headache and disorientation. \n\n He took in his surroundings as his eyes regained focus. It was spacious for a fortified cell, resembling more of an old lounge than a place to keep prisoners. To the left of the room was a shed-like structure, a toilet he assumed, and to his right was a large pile of hay which he could use for a bed. The walls were built from red bricks that had faded with age, and he had been placed in between the makeshift bed and the crude loo. \n\n The cell doors were steel, and unlike everything else, they seemed well maintained, polished even, and beyond them stood two guards who stared at him. A male Drow that gripped his spear, most likely the one that hit him, and then a female Drow who was shameless staring at him with a slight blush across her cheeks.\n\nBrakteon looked down at himself and saw that he had been stripped down to his trousers. The medic had applied balms to his cuts and a bandage to his thigh, where the Countess had done the most damage. Clamped to his wrists were heavy black cuffs, which had glowing runes scractched into them. Spell Shackles. \n\n They were very careful with him, and he could not blame them. How many have gotten close to killing their Master? How many Findarans dared to wander this far into their Kingdom? He had been too daring. \n\n Even he was surprised he lasted this long. \n\n He thought of Lyu, the Aarokocra that had accompanied him. He had told her not to speak to his family unless he was dead, and he hoped that she had seen that he had allowed the Countess to hit him, that this was all planned... For now atleast. \n\n Brakteon sighed and leaned his head back against the walls. He could do nothing but await his fate in the dungeon of his potential killer. \n\n He wondered where his sword was." }, { "author": "Zrembeth Vrardru", "message": "How long had Brakteon been in that cell for? Hours? Days? Weeks? It wasn't clear as the knights who guarded him had no intention of answering even the most basic of questions. They were unyielding in their resolve, much like their countess. It spoke to the caliber of people that the Dragon attracts. There were far more merciful, more peaceful lords to serve. A knight who served the very duchess who sent Brakteon here would be of greater renown than a soldier of the Dragon. It was only those who shared the countesses zeal and cruel devotion to their land who act in service to her. These woman who were willing to lay down their life without a second thought with their lord willing to do the same.\n\nIt would be two of these woman that Brakteon would be alone with until the sounds of heavy, clattering footsteps could be heard outside of his cell. The heavy metal door slowly slid itself open as he would be greeted with the iron clad figure that had decimated him in the fight before. The countess herself, Zrembeth Vrardru. Even in the safety of her own keep she was still dressed for battle. Her blackened armor freshly cleaned of the blood which once stained it. At her waist the very dagger she had wielded rested. But the wolf would know full well that its form was a simple deception to any who would suspect the countess to be underequipped.\n\nIn her hand she held Brakteon's most treasured possession, his moonlight greatsword. It was an odd sight. When he last wielded it it was against a band of hardened warriors who were keen on putting their lives on the line just to claim it. Brakteon willing to lay down his own life for that very blade. Zrembeth, however, showed no sign of favor toward it as its blade rested against the ground, with her dragging it with her the whole way. Hopefully it wasn't dulled by now. \n\n\"Leave\"\n\nShe ordered to the two who kept watch. Wordlessly the two funneled out past Zrembeth as the heavy door shut behind them. Brakteon now alone and chained with Lazaroth's monster.\n\nShe released her grip on the blade, letting it clatter onto the ground before reaching at her waist to grab a scroll she had rolled up. Unfurling it, she would hold it in her iron grasp as Brakteon could hear her voice quietly muttering the words of an incantation. Most likely reading whatever was on that scroll. It wouldn't be long before a bright flash of light would burst as she scroll would begin to disintegrate in her grasp. Its purpose complete as whatever spell she had used it for had now been cast.\n\n\"Your blade\"\n\nShe suddenly spoke in perfect common. Her Lazarothi accent was notable but the countess who didn't speak a word of the common tongue now suddenly was a fluent speaker. The result of the Tongues scroll she had just used for the sake of this discussion. In time it would fade and she would return to speaking Drowish exclusively. But for now Brakteon could understand her. And she could understand him.\n\n\"Disregarding its lunar glow what else is it capable of?\"" }, { "author": "Brakteon Wealbrig", "message": "Brakteon tilted his head as he studied the Countess with a spark of surprise. He had seen her without the helmet earlier when she had decided to bash his head with it, but he had been more worried about death then, now however, he was astounded by how, beneath the haunting metal that was her armor, was a woman who's beauty was on par with the Duchess. He knew elves and drow alike were blessed with it, but this was getting rather ridiculous. \n\n He decided it was best not to comment on it. Both because it did not seem worth mentioning and because he felt the Countess was not one for flattery. He was on thin enough ice. Instead, he looked down at his sword and pointed behind her before he answered her question. From where she came, down to where she had dropped the sword, was a long line that carved through the floor. \n\n\"Under the brightest moon, three blades were forged, \nPresented as gifts to the Great Wealbrig Lord,\nThe Claymore, the Cresent, and the one estranged, \nInfused with a light that shall never fade,\nTo be used in their fight for now and forever, \nThese weapons of night shall never chip nor shatter. \nBut the last of the three has been lost by the House \nAnd will only be found by the hound who loses their crown.\"\n\nBrakteon sat up straight to adjust the shackles digging into his skin. \n\n \"The Brightmoon Claymore is from a set of three, though most believe the third to be a myth. For as long as I have had it and as long as those before me have wielded it, the Claymore has never needed to be sharpened, nor has it chipped. Many have tried to destroy it, but whoever or whatever made these swords forged them from something beyond my understanding and that of others. It can also easily be infused with magic, as there have been many spell blades before me.\" \n\n He looked down at Zrembeth's dagger, his amber eyes examining the hilt before he looked back at his sword. \n\n \"Blades of magic are not a marvel in this world, many people possess such weapons, but they say that the lost sword did have some power infused into its metal. Aside from that there is not much else known of the swords.\"" }, { "author": "Zrembeth Vrardru", "message": "It was difficult to judge the reaction of the countess underneath her helm. The only sign that there was a person underneath all that metal was the reflection of two bright eyes against the faint glow of the torchlight. Zrembeth herself would allow Brakteon to tell his tale. But was increasingly disinterested in the history of it. She had known of its sharpness. During the time that Brakteon was undergoing treatment she examined it herself. Even swung the weapon a few times just to get the feel for it. To her surprise, it had the weight that she expected from viewing it at first glance. But on the battlefield Brakteon fought as though that weight was halved. It wasn't magically light, he was just that strong. The reason why the wolf would find his bindings had become exceptionally tight.\n\nShe had also noticed its sharpness as she dragged the weapon here. How it carved through the stone with mythical ease. Would her armor be able to stop such a blow? She expected a blow to the neck to crack her spine like a twig. But she still expected to be happily capitated. Now she wasn't so sure. \n\nHer hand quickly shot down to her blade as the wolf adjusted himself. Even in chains he was able to put the Dragon on guard. She wasn't sure if he'd be able to break free and they would have another fight on their hands. But Zrembeth was optimistic of they came to blows again. So long as she played things smart as she did last time. He was still recovering from a severe head wound. Hopefully that left him properly concussed not to try anything too egregious. \n\nA cold glare would be the only response the Dragon had to give to Brakteon in response to his tale. A family history that mattered to him but was utterly irrelevant to her. Her eyes would fall upon the blade she had tossed once more. Still not a scratch on it. The idea of claiming it for herself crossed her mind but never on the field of battle. Her blade was a gift to her mother from the blessed queen. She wouldn't dishonor Laz\n\nAroth by wielding the weapon of an outsider. Besides, being bound to a single weapon would do her no good, even if it was an exceptional weapon. But it had quite the heft. A fine blade for an execution if there ever was one.\n\nOnce she determined Brakteon was no longer an immediate threat she let her hand fall to her side again.\n\n\"Ethru Vrardru was her name.\"\n\nThe countess stated.\n\n\"In your broken butchery of my language you asked who it was the Sisterhood had taken from me. Her name was Ethru Vrardru. She was my mother.\"\n\nThe countess knelt down to be at the wolf's height as he remain chained to the floor. Her words laced with venom and bitterness as she continued.\n\n\"My mother fought the invading sea peoples during the Sea of Plenty. My queen rewarded her with the County of Blythwim and the very weapon I bested you with. She was a hero. An icon. She lead her forces and pushed back the encroaching invaders until the sea ran red with their blood. Saving countless lives and keeping the war from being drawn out with more violence. And she was repaid for her service with a poisoned dagger in her throat. My mother was the greatest woman I had come to know as a child and I watched her suffocate and bleed to death as all the onlookers watched helpless to save her. None of her achievements saved her that day. And the Sister who ended the life of Lazaroth's greatest hero escaped in the confusion. \n\nDid the duchess tell you of all this before she sent you to die?\"" }, { "author": "Brakteon Wealbrig", "message": "Brakteon noticed how she stepped back when he reshuffled his spot against the wall, her hand flying to her blade, despite him being chained down by these accursed cuffs. She was uneasy, and cautious, he figured after having held his sword for a while she had caught on to his brutal strength.\n\n But Brakteon was not eager to put her on edge, so instead he lowered his shoulders and dropped his ears, making him more complacent than he truly was. It seemed to work, but then again, he could not read her as he could others, her eyes were always in a perpetual glare, as if his very presence was a stain in this already rotten cell. The hate between their Kingdoms was one only she must have felt, because he had never bothered with the politics of their rulers. \n\n Be it rain or sunshine, people would always find a reason to kill each other. What mattered here was that he got the Countess not to kill him. \n\n When she knelt to be his height, Brakteon leaned back a bit, because he believed that leaning closer felt more threatening, and listened attentively to her story. Her Mother, the Countess before her, a hero to her people during the Sea of Plenty, was struck with a poison dagger. A tactic used commonly by the Sisters, ensuring the death of their target before they could get aid of any kind.\n\nThey had not used that tactic on Brakteon. They knew one person would be too easy for him to sniff out, so they ambushed him and kept him away from his friend till it was too late. \n\n When Zrembeth finished speaking Brakteon took a moment before he raised his hands up to show three fingers. \n\n \"Firstly, though it might be insulting coming from me, I am sorry for the death of your mother. She deserved a better fate than what those cowards forced upon her. Secondly, with all due respect, you did not best me with that blade, you did not even have it in your grasp when you asked... Demanded that I yield. And thirdly, I was not aware of your plight before coming here. The Duchess sent me with doubt in her heart that I would survive our ordeal, I asked to know why you searched for the Sisters, and now I do. I lost a friend to them, a good man who simply wanted to make this world better than it could be, one step at a time.\"\n\n He looked to his sword and then back at her. \"They ambushed me, knowing that without me being distracted I could have saved him. They gave me this.\" He pointed to the scar on his face. \"And when I finally reached him...\" Brakteon fell silent, taking a deep breath before he continued. \"I have searched for them for decades, and every trail has gone cold. Then I learnt they walk through your kingdom and here I am.\"\n\n He raised his shackles, the runes seemingly burning brighter every time he moved. \"I have not come here for the problems between our Kingdoms, Countess, I came to bury those responsible for my friend's death.\"" }, { "author": "Zrembeth Vrardru", "message": "Zrembeth was silent as the wolf spoke of his own plight. His own encounter. A friend. A nameless one but one who he seemed to care about deeply. Disbanded and distracted. Trapped and Attacked. At first it struck her odd that these assassins would be willing to let Brakteon go after their assault. After all, none would want a creature like him to seek vengeance against them. Though, from what she had seen on the field of battle she was inclined to believe that they never had the chance to put him down. Only to delay him. There would be a pause as the wolf concluded his tale before the countess would speak again.\n\n\"A tragedy, Brakteon Anteel Wealbrig, you have my condolences.\"\n\nThe dragon spoke in a tone too soft to be believed it came from the mouth of Lazaroth's dreaded monster. Regardless, that tone would not remain as kind as it once sounded as she stood to her feet again. Beginning to pace around the chain wolf like a shark fresh on the scent of blood in the water. \n\n\"However, the death of your companion does not concern me. There are many in Lazaroth alone who have fallen victim to a Sister's blade. Several of them make up the knights who serve me. Who aid me in my quest to bring them to justice for what they have done. So that they no longer hold Lazaroath by the end of a dagger.\"\n\nThe sound of scrapping metal could be heard as the countess took hold of Brakteon's blade once again. Letting it rest upon her shoulder as she continued to circle the trapped warrior.\n\n\"But you must understand. The right to bury them is not yours, Brakteon Anteel Wealbrig, it is mine. By right of my mother, by right as Lazaroth's protector. You charge into our lands, a male not even familiar with our tongue. Willing to tear apart my home in your quest for revenge. I do not know why the Duchess did not turn you away as another vengeance seeker. And now that quest has lead you to challenge me, the Countess of Blythwim, to a duel. One that, no matter what extenuating circumstance dictates, you lost. I cannot allow you to rob me of my act of justice I will impose upon the Sisterhood. \n\nAnd even if I was inclined to let you leave, our duel was to the death. You yielded, yes, but now your fate is in my hands. While I have no love for that title I am called, it is that reputation which frightens the Sisterhood into hiding. Makes them think twice before stepping out from their hiding places to butcher Lazaroth's people. You came as a Findaran, as a male, willing to rob Lazaroth of its protector just for your revenge. Allowing you to leave is an act of political suicide. Your freedom must come at a heavy cost, if I allow you to pay it\"\n\nThe light glow of Brakteon's blade would be near blinding as the Countess placed it right underneath his chin. Pressing against his throat.\n\n\"As it stands now, you are set to be executed in the square in the coming days with this very blade. I shall mount it within my chambers as my new headcutters blade and your body will be buried in the wilderness. Your grave nameless and your corpse left to rot. So tell me, Brakteon Anteel Wealbrig, why should I not cleave your head from your shoulders?\"" }, { "author": "Brakteon Wealbrig", "message": "Brakteon rolled his eyes with disregard. The talk of politics. Politics. Always about looking better than doing what needs to be done. Always about following protocol rather than accepting that rules are often a hindrance to do what is necessary. Brakteon had expected the Countess to grasp this, to understand that all the trouble that their titles give them is just nonsense. \n\n But still she needed convincing, however Brakteon was no longer going to tiptoe along the thin line of delicacy. \n\n \"How many under your employ are capable of what I have done, Countess? How many who stand with you against the Sisters are truly a threat to them? You have earned your title ten times over, but you are just one woman in a sea of capable soldiers. You have seen what the Sisters can do in a matter of moments, how they can cut through a crowd like shadows and kill whoever their target is, all before you even realize what is happening.\"\n\n He pointed outside the cell. \"What's to say they aren't in these very walls? One who killed my friend was the maid who ran the inn we stayed at for that night alone.\"\n\nBrakteon gestured to his sword. \"And I ask you, if I wanted to disgrace your home, would I have done the courtesy of a formal duel? You carry my sword now, tell me, if I wished to slaughter your ranks, how many would die before I would? Before you finally intervened?\" \n\n \"If you believe it your right to kill the Sisters, then fine, I would step aside for you to pass your well earned justice. But justice matters not to those bastards, they poison, they hide, the strike when you sleep. They will not wait for you to pass judgment.\"\n\n Brakteon pointed to himself. \"I am here to honor my Charge, even in his death. You might chain me here, but I have worn the guilt, the shame, the rage for years on end. Kill me, if you believe that would save you your reputation amongst your people, but I bet the Sisters would enjoy that as well. The dog who has chased them from spring fields to snowy tundra is finally dead, one less enemy in their wake, one less reason to fear.\"\n\n Brakteon leaned back. \"I cannot convince you more than I have, Countess, I have shown skill in sword and magic that has thrown even you on your back. I do not understand the politics of your Kingdom, and that fault is mine, but I had a teacher once, a Drow, and he told me that the true words of a warrior are spoken by their sword. I do not come to claim your title, or dishonor your land. I came here for aid, so that my friend can be avenged. For I failed to protect him, and so I failed myself. I am bound to none now, none but shame and rage.\"" }, { "author": "Zrembeth Vrardru", "message": "The iron hand of the Dragon would grip the fur on the back of the wolf's neck. His head pulled backwards as he faced the cold stone ceiling of his cell. He could feel the hair on his neck cut as Zrembeth pushed Brakteon's blade further against his neck. Careful enough with the sharp edge to not decapitate him on accident. After all, it could glide through stone like nothing, flesh would be of little concern. And given she knew the exact amount of pressure was needed, it was clear that during the time that he was unconscious, Zrembeth had gotten quite familiar with his weapon in a remarkable short period of time. A martial genius at heart, while she did not wield it with the same strength, she carried it with the same level of skill.\n\n\"Or... I could save for the formalities and end it right now before you ever have the chance to harm my knights.\"\n\nBrakteon could feel the sharp sting of a cut beginning to form on his neck. Drops of his blood gliding down his treasured weapon and forming a puddle before him on the cobblestone. The grip tightening around him like a vise.\n\n\"I want you to understand something, Brakteon Anteel Wealbrig. Perhaps \"Politics\" Was a poor word for describe what this is. I assumed it would be sufficient for you, but you seem to be dreadfully mistaken. I do not do anything for my Beneficial reputation. I am not called the Dragon because I am philanthropic. Not for my sense of justice. There are none who call me this name with admiration in their voice. I am called the Dragon because that is what I must be for the sake of defending my home. My enemies call me this because they believe me wicked. And they very well may be right. In that very square I have spilled the blood of hundreds who threatened my home of Lazaroth. \n\nI do not posture. I do not go to galas and mingle for my own social standing. I act. And it is because of that fact I am feared. Why my name is whispered with hate by thousands. It is this brutality which keeps my home safe. I became Lazaroth's Monster out of necessity. Do not assume me to be posturing for the sake of my 'reputation'.\n\nMy intentions were to execute you in the square. A symbol for my people to remain loyal. That outside threats have no place whilst The Dragon is perched. But if you make threats I say we skip the formalities and end it right here before you have the chance to free yourself. By the time I feel you struggle against your chains I'll have your throat slit within a fraction of a second.\n\nUnless... You have a reason I shouldn't. You speak of your skills but I have warriors already. Many of them. But skills in combat is useless against a foe who hides in the shadows. Every trait you have stated is one I already have. Nothing unique that I am missing. Not only that but I have nothing to suggest your loyalty. That you'll obey my word and behave in any other matter than a rabid dog following the Sister's blood trail. As it stands right now, I am far better off without you. You have little to offer me. \n\nSo speak your words, Brakteon Anteel Wealbrig. Convince me. Because if you don't, your life ends right here in this prison cell and you will be buried in the same grave I shall place the Sisterhood in.\"" }, { "author": "Brakteon Wealbrig", "message": "The glow of the Brightmoon Claymore showed no fear in the eyes of its true owner. The Wolf glared at the Dragon in silence for a long moment, the tension in the air almost suffocating. Brakteon has been in a set of horrible situations, but he had to admit that this was one of the worst ones yet. She had the advantage, she had the sword at his neck with his blood trailing down its blade, yet Brakteon remained calm.\n\n \"I seem to have been mistaken by your title, Countess. You are more soldier than Monarch, which is a quality I respect in high regard. However, you are wrong on two accounts. Firstly, I am an Old Gaurd Dog, not a rabid one, and secondly, as it is clear from our duel, it is not every trait we share. Allow me to demonstrate.\" \n\n Brakteon slammed his neck against the prison wall, threw his legs up, locked them around Zrembeth's midsection, and twisted her with all his might. The quick action took the Countess by surprise as she was thrown on her side, releasing her grip on his neck but not the hold on his sword, and it dug into Brakteon's neck slightly more.\n\n However, Brakteon gritted his teeth, taking the pain with resilience as he threw his cuffs against the sword, slicing the Spell Shackles off and freeing the mana inside him.\n\nHe then quickly pressed two fingers against her helm while she still had his sword against his neck. They stayed like that for a moment, both in danger of death, but rather than fire a spell, Brakteon spoke. \n\n \"You are missing mana, Countess. I see your stance on the matter as a valid one. I am a man who came to challenge you before your people, and I am a man who dared to even pull my sword against you for nothing other than my pursuit of revenge, and I even had the balls to threaten your knights. So yes, I have been a tad overzealous, and you have no reason to believe I won't turn on you the instant I am through with the Sisters. So, I ask you this: What act would have you spare my sword the shame of killing its owner? What would you have me do to prove myself loyal to the cause? To show that I won't turn on you?\" \n\n \"Ignoring our current situation, of course.\" He gestured to the sword currently slicing into his neck. \"This is just a little precaution so you don't kill me so easily. I speak my spells out of habit, so I need not say anything to cast one, and at this range, I fear even if you kill me, you might not survive. So, Countess Zrembeth Vradru, how may this Old Guard Dog show that he is of use to the Dragon of Lazaroth?\"" }, { "author": "Zrembeth Vrardru", "message": "The countess's first feeling was the sensation of her feet leaving the ground. She was keen to hear what this wolf had to say. To hear him plead for her mercy. To swear loyalty in her hunt. That she could intimidate this warrior into submission. He was held at blade point with his own weapon. A weapon that he knew could kill him in an instant. And she knew his strength was otherworldly. That with enough effort he could tear his bindings and make his escape. But not before she cut him down. What she hadn't accounted for was how fast he would be. How before she could even blink he leaped from the ground and tossed her to the solid cobblestone beneath her with a thud.\n\nHer eyes widened. Her grip on the handle of his sword firm as she used every ounce of strength to keep it upright against his neck. She could see his arm extended. Two fingers. A conduit for mana unbound aimed directly at her just inches from her skull. She knew not of what magic he was capable of. If he even had any left from how much he had used during his battle prior. But it seemed to be enough for him to rely on whilst his life was in peril. The both of them now balanced on a tightrope between life and death. One they had stood upon so many times in the past.\n\nZrembeth cursed herself for not killing him when she had the chance. When he threatened her knights. When she battered him with her helm. He still lived because she was willing to put aside her title, her name, who she was just to see if she could make something out of him. Another who understands the pain she feels. Another to fight for the justice of. But she knew now that this would never work. His vengeance had driven him to madness. Brakteon Anteel Wealbrig was a man of action. A man who cared little for the consequences so long as he succeeds in his goals. A duelist. A monster.\n\nHe was just like her.\n\nHer eyes softened at this realization. That scorn beneath her helm fading as she looked upon a monster just like her. A monster the Sisterhood had made. Though... She wasn't even sure of that now. \n\nShe understood Brakteon. Better than she had her own family. And it saddened her. For she knew another monster like her couldn't exist in this world. Not one unchained. \n\n```\"How may this Old Guard Dog show that he is of use to the Dragon of Lazaroth\"```\n\nHe spoke as Zrembeth's free hand trailed down to her waist, gripping the handle of her dagger.\n\n\"Rest, old dog\"\n\nShe quietly answered as she brought up her family blade. Within moments it had assumed the form of a shield which she placed right up against her face where Brakteon had placed his fingers. Using her free hand, she glided Brakteon's own cherished blade against his neck. Cutting through flesh and bone until finally severing his head from his body." } ]	593	15,997
362.333333	1776-07-04	GuildPublicThread	[ { "author": "Marghulis", "message": "He slammed the flat side of his horseman's pick into the face of one of the bandits that were attacking him. He had gone to Lazaroth to explore the lands, wanting to find anything interesting for his duties to Zutaal. This place was part of the Slave trades with Gantrick and Dasvaz, as such, he planned on raising a number of feral undead here just to cause chaos near slave camps.\n\n Unfortunately, some bandits thought it would be a good idea to attack him, half of them were dead, and the other half were barely surviving against him and his raised undead.\n\nHe cast a ray of sickness on one of them, causing the bandit to slow down, as the poison began spreading across his body. Marghulis used the pointed end, and cracked the skull, causing some blood to sleep out the newly made hole on top the bandit's head. He kicked another to the side, as he then felt an arrow hit his shoulder, embedding itself into a plate of armor, while going through the skin, but not hitting any of his vital areas.\n\nHe used the sword on the ground and stabbed the crawling bandit left bleeding down. As he made his way to the one laying down on a tree, a sword wound through the gut and held a bow. He stabbed the man, killing him, but soon after, he kneeled on the ground, the arrow from earlier began hurting his shoulder even more." }, { "author": "Doctor Jones", "message": "They had sensed it from far, far away. The scuffle happening caught their attention, not because of the sound or anything, the shouting that'd alert anyone else, no, the Doctor sensed the blood as it was spread over the snow, flowing out of people in ways that it was very much not supposed to. Gods be damned. They couldn't just have one peaceful stroll to process everything that was going on lately, could they? There always had to be something going wrong.\n\nDespite that, they didn't hesitate, starting to run in that direction. It seemed like a scuffle of some kind, a group attacking a person whose strength was underrestimated. No matter the country, there were always people like that, it seemed. Would there even be anyone alive by the time they got there? Best hurry up.\n\nThe sight they arrived at was a massacre that took their breath away. The dead strewn around, like dropped ragdolls. Blood seemed to coat every surface. Over there, someone still moved, and Doctor Jones took a step, rushing in to help, before realizing that the man had no chance to live with that injury to the brain - those were always fatal.\n\nNo, it seemed that there was only one still alive, the one whose weapons were the cause for all this death. Raising their hands to show that they meant no harm, Doctor Jones approached, calling out a simple phrase; \"I am a doctor, you are hurt. Please, let me heal you,\" They said in Common There was no saying what a man like that might do to someone he deemed vaguely threatening, especially when hurt - best be careful.\n_ _\n\nThey were not at all a threatening sight. Even with the warm coat that covered their body, their pale and thin face was hard to miss. White hair was tied up messily on the back of their head with a few strands escaping, and pointed ears clearly suggested an Elven heritage. Were the stranger to desire so, he could easily kill them - they were a foot and a half shorter and a third of his weight, it would not be difficult. Still, those pale grey eyes had a determined spark in them, a determination to heal, to provide aid for someone that required it. There was no intention to harm anywhere in their expression or body language, not even any fear, only that quiet determination, and a hint of worry." }, { "author": "Marghulis", "message": "His helmet covered most of his face, only allowing some of his eyes to be seen by anyone outside. It was glaring at the white figure, unknowing of their true intentions. Was this person here to hurt him, were they an assassin, while he didn't know, he was not going to allow them anywhere near him.\n\nHe used the sword to his side as a cane, doing his best to support his body weight, but it seemed his wounds were worse than he expected. As he keeled over, the pain suddenly exploded as he felt something start dripping from his side, and when he looked, he saw a wound there he didn't see earlier. It seemed one of the bandits was able to do more damage than he thought.\n\nHe tried standing up again, but his body was no longer listening to him. As he only fell again, his left arm shaking from carrying all of his weight. He gave a wet cough, as he laid on the ground in a heavy thud, the dirt around him being pressed into the ground. As he looked at the white robed person in front of him, trying to look intimidating and raising his pick, before even that fell from his now weak grip." }, { "author": "Doctor Jones", "message": "Another patient who seemed adamant to refuse help. The Doctor couldn't help but let out a sigh, slightly annoyed at how frequently this happened. Why were so many people like this? Though they supposed that the people in this area did not yet know of them, so it did make some amount of sense that this person was suspicious of them - didn't make it any less annoying.\n\n\"Do you want me to prove my healing capabilities?\" Doctor Jones asked, hands still held up. It was going to be a pain, but if it was necessary to help a patient... So be it. \"Or is there anything else I can do to prove that I mean no harm?\"\n\nReally, it seemed that if he kept going like this, he was going to collapse on his own in just a few moments, but the Doctor would really like to prevent that. It'd be a pain to have to drag him to safety, and if he lost too much blood, there wasn't a lot they could do about it, considering the two of them were different species. Hopefully he'd just allow them to help and not make this any more difficult than it had to be." }, { "author": "Marghulis", "message": "He could only hatefully glare at them. How weak he has gotten ever since his younger days. Where only a few bandits were enough to not only tire him out, but even wound him a number of times. It was slowly annoying him of how the world was reminding him that he was aging, that the fact that he had changed a lot since the war, and even then, he still can't escape time and its grasp.\n\nHe could breathe heavily, his helmet echoing it to create the sound of a growling beast. As he hesitantly nodded to the Healer. He was going to allow them to heal him, but only this once, he vows to never again let another heal him, it reminded him of being weak, and he hated that feeling already enough. There was no way in hell was he going to allow that to keep him chained again.\n\nHe slowly moved himself, doing his best to go back to the tree where he killed one of the bandits, so he could sit up and see everything in his rather limited line of sight. Getting a better look at the healer. Seeing that they have a pure white robe in a land filled with dirt, platinum hair that shone in the midday sun, gray eyes that seemed both harmless and tired. Though, the one thing that really stood to him, was that they looked rather feminine in appearance from his observation.\n\nNot only that, but scrawny too. He deduced from seeing their arms after they moved it up slightly to get a hold of their healer's kit. He saw that they had few muscles to speak of, which put him into the conclusion that they might not be from Dasvaz, far too pretty and far too skinny." }, { "author": "Doctor Jones", "message": "A quiet sigh of relief escaped them. At least they wouldn't have to resort to Those Methods to convince this stranger to let him heal them. After everything going on lately, the Doctor wasn't sure they had the strength to live through that.\n\nThey approached quietly, footsteps barely making any sound in the snow. Crouching down beside him, Doctor Jones spent a few moments examining him, slender fingers carefully moving near the injured sites, not yet touching them. By far not the worst injuries they'd fixed, that was for sure, it should be doable, but they had to move fast.\n\nWith their left hand, Doctor Jones unclipped their robe and let it slide to the ground to free up their arms, revealing the white tunic and light grey cardigan and pants they wore beneath that. Their thin frame became even more evident that way, with limbs that the stranger could probably snap in half with one hand if he so desired, though the way their oversized clothes hung loosely on their body hid most of it.\n\n\"This is going to hurt,\" They announced, and pressed their right hand, a hand as cold as a dead man's, against his chest in an attempt to hold him in place. The left, they hovered over the injury in his side, and then closed their eyes, taking a deep breath.\n\nA moment passed, and suddenly, the flesh started knitting itself back together. Veins, muscles, tendons, anything that had been injured, fused together in an insanely painful process, but it was one that was incredibly effective. Lastly, they put the skin back together, and within half a minute, Doctor Jones finished the entire healing process of this injury without even a scar remaining.\n_ _\n\nThey wanted to continue with the other wounds, they really did, but they had to pause momentarily. Letting out a breath, their breathing unsteady and shaky, the Doctor reopened their eyes as they sat back, sweat pearling on their forehead despite the cold. Despite the way it may seem, the healing was not effortless at all, it always took a lot out of them. \"...Give me a moment,\" They breathed, swallowing hard, left hand clamped over their mouth as if they were trying to keep from throwing up. Gods, this was such a pain." }, { "author": "Marghulis", "message": "With the glare of a hawk, he watched as the Healer walked towards him. Their white robe being taken off to reveal more casual clothing that seemed like something that most commoners wouldn't be able to afford. From what he could see at a glance with his blurry vision, it seemed soft and warm, and must have been made from the wool of those sheeps in Gantrick if he remembered correctly.\n\nThough, it did reveal the fact that he was right with his first thought on the kid. They looked weak, typical of most mages not part of either the warlocks or military battlemages, both types of magic users being used to physical fighting and training. Warlocks have some favor to close quarters. And battlemages being soldiers too, as such were subjected to the same training.\n\nBut when he felt their hand lay on his chest, even through his armor, it was cold. It was unnatural, but, how could he judge them, he was a warlock of the damned, the risen dead. He was devoted to one of the Archdevils themselves, he was sure he couldn't give judgment on how cold someone was.And when the healing began, it felt different than what he was used too.\n\nHe winced at the feeling of his skin reattaching itself to each other, with the cold air of Lazaroth blowing on his exposed wounds, it felt like ice was being poured on them. It was distracting, irritating and a little painful, but he just pushed the urge to scratch his wounds, as he knew it would only make the situation worse than it is.\n.\n\nWhen the healer finished, he saw that they got tired, their body sagging as the healing was complete, and most of their energy was depleted from their body. **\"Kid... The only injury I have left is on my shoulder. And I'll survive that one, you've already dealt with the important one, rest for a bit.\"* He said, feeling a little better after the healing. A little tired, but at least he could stand now.\n\n*\"We should move to a safer area, where there are a few bandits, there are bound to be more.\"* He slowly stood up, and while he thought it wasn't smart to do so, they had to move to a more secure location. *\"Rest for a minute, then let's move. The night will fall on us soon, and we just make haste before it does.\"" }, { "author": "Doctor Jones", "message": "A stubborn shake of the head. There was no way that Doctor Jones was going to leave any injury unfixed if they could prevent it. And besides, there was a damn arrow in his shoulder - they had to fix it, no matter how much the stranger insisted that they shouldn't.\n\nSo, as he got up, they did too, reaching up and grabbing his shoulder with their right hand with surprising strength. Without asking for permission, or confirmation, they grabbed the arrow with their left and yanked it out in one swift motion, tossing it aside. It didn't matter if it had any kind of hooks keeping it in there, sure, it might hurt to remove, but it wasn't a hurt that lasted very long, because Doctor Jones immediately started healing it again, fingers of their left hand moving in tiny little movements to direct the flesh to repair itself.\n\nDespite how much their face paled, despite how much they had to grit their teeth and clutch on to the stranger's shoulder to keep standing, they pushed on, through the pain, through everything, mind solely focused on healing, as it always was. This, too, didn't take them very long, and they soon enough finished healing him up, at which point they finally let out their breath, panting as if they'd just run a marathon, still clutching on to his shoulder with both hands this time.\n\nHis words hadn't escaped them. Kid.* It might've been amusing in any other situation. They were what, three times his age, probably more? And yet, their appearance had always reflected that of someone in their late teens at most. Best not to mention it now, though, there were more important things to worry about.\n_ _\n\n\"Yeah... That's smart,\" The Doctor muttered in response, leaning against the stranger as they caught their breath. Gods, why was this so exhausting lately? It didn't use to be this bad, in the past, it used to be so much easier to heal patient after patient after patient. Now they could barely get through one healing session without practically collapsing. It was so very frustrating... \"Do you know of any safe locations?\" Their voice lowered in pitch somewhat, exhaustion creeping into it. Compared to most, they spoke softly and somewhat slowly.\n\nTheir gaze went over to the fallen cloak, though they couldn't muster the strength to walk over to it. Best wait here for a few moments longer and hope that at least some strength returned to them before the cold sapped it from their body even more... Assuming the stranger would let them hang on, of course." }, { "author": "Marghulis", "message": "He felt the kid slump over him after they finished healing his shoulder. Their light body falling on his shoulder and slightly hooking them down as they fell unconscious. He tried to wake the kid, gently shaking their body. Seeing that they didn't respond to him anymore. He pushed them to the side, and outstretched his hand, dark magic coursing through his veins and coming out of his fingertips. And like threads of a puppet, latched on to one of the bodies of the bandits.\n\nHe pulled his hand upwards, and the threads of magic followed, he then spoke. *\"Drashi Vordeun Mekros Salaar, Marows Vordun merokas Vlak'kel mortrek Ahn... Drashi Vordeun... .\"* He continued reciting the incantation for a minute, as the threads slowly submerged themselves into the body. And once he said the last word once again. The body snapped, and slowly stood up, the eyes of the corpse glowing blue as it looked at him, awaiting its orders.\n\nHe looked at the healer again, their chest slowly rising up and down as they were asleep, fatigued and unconscious from all that they did. He sent a mental order to the zombie, as it moved and carried the younger's body. It is a cold flesh meeting with the healer's own. As it followed behind him. Marghulis himself moved to the other bodies to do the same thing. And after a few minutes, three more zombies were now following him.\n\nHe then began walking to the West, as the zombies followed him, intending to go to the area he saw before the attack, it was in a fairly good area that had few things to it, and was filled with gravel and small caves. It would be the best place for them to stay in and recuperate. He then felt where his wounds were before, still hung up on the fact of how fast it was done." }, { "author": "Doctor Jones", "message": "It was a strange thing how quickly the Doctor managed to drift to sleep. One moment, they were awake, the next, they were completely out of it, snoozing peacefully, chest rising and falling slowly. This wasn't unexpected, though, it was actually fairly common for them, but it was a problem that it happened at such an inconvenient moment. Luckily, the stranger didn't seem to have any bad intentions for them.\n\nA little while after being picked up, they woke up again, still being carried by the undead. The Doctor blinked their eyes open slowly, glancing around to figure out what was going on. Frankly, they were expecting that the stranger was carrying them, but that did not seem to be the case. No, what was carrying them was... One of the corpses from earlier? So then the stranger was a necromancer of some kind. Well, not like they could judge, being a hemomancer and all that.\n\nPerhaps one might expect the Doctor to be disgusted by the sight, but no, they seemed... Amazed. They reached up a hand to brush over the undead's cheek, marveling at the sight, the cool feeling of its cheek. There was an odd beauty to how lifelike it was, and yet, so very dead. Necromancy was something they had been meaning to research, once upon a time, but they'd realized it wouldn't help their goals, and thus, ended up deciding against it.\n\n\"So you're a necromancer, then?\" The Doctor asked curiously as they turned their gaze to the man walking in front of the small group. Perhaps they should get back down, but why would they decline being carried like this? There was something comforting about it, plus, they'd only slow everyone down if they were to walk on their own - the Doctor had never been particularly fast. Plus, well, they were just plain lazy sometimes - like right now." }, { "author": "Marghulis", "message": "When the kid touched the cheek of one of the corpses he was puppeting, he also felt it in his mind. He looked behind him, and saw that the healer, who was unconscious earlier, was now awake, and curiously poking at the zombie he had risen. He kept walking as the healer was rising from his sleep.\n\n*\"You have thankfully awakened, we're a few minutes away from the camp, if you are able to walk, then do so. There is no need for you to be carried if you can do so on your own. If not, then you can stay as is.\"* \n\nHe told them, as he kept walking forward with his undead soldiers following behind him. Their bodies were beginning to slowly stink and attract flies, the drying blood on their bodies causing the smell of iron to waft through the small group, their weapons and clothes still dripping from wounds and other openings made in the small battle." }, { "author": "Doctor Jones", "message": "The Doctor remained quiet for a moment or two, their mind only picking up that someone was speaking to them after the fact - luckily, they'd registered the vague meaning of his words unconsciously. Seemed like he wasn't particularly keen on answering the question, but considering how obvious of an answer it had, they didn't mind it so much.\n\n\"I can technically walk on my own,\" They spoke after a reluctant moment of silence. Sure, lying would have been more aligned with their goals of being lazy, maybe catch a very quick nap, but they'd always been a terrible liar. \"But not very fast. It'll likely slow us down a lot.\" Their gaze had been focused on the man as they spoke, though they looked back at the corpse carrying then when they finished talking.\n\nIt truly was an incredible thing to behold. Even if the bodies were rotting already - did necromancy speed up the process of decay? - the way they moved was very, very interesting, and the Doctor found their attention captured by it immediately. Much like the flies buzzing around the corpses, their mind was swarmed with questions, though the stranger didn't seem so keen on answering them... Hopefully later. The curious look in their eyes was difficult to miss." } ]	373.5	4,348
541.571429	1776-07-04	GuildPublicThread	[ { "author": "Doctor Henryk", "message": "*It's been a few days since he had visited Atticus Xelnore. The Doctor had undergone a fair few trials since then, but his studies never eluded him. Books which he collected from Xelnore Manor had returned with him to Lazaroth, where here he began to experiment with new spells and thaumaturgical workings. Henryk knew he needed some assistance, and thus who better than his dear friend Doctor Jones?\n\nIn the basement of Argith Estate, Henryk awaited in his laboratory with a few tomes laid out, opened up on display. The spells in question had been 'Create Homunculus', 'Life Tether',* And 'Perfect Regeneration'. Three tomes which the Mage Hand had kept to themselves, hiding these spells from the world as they were deemed unnatural to the world. Henryk, however, saw these as potential tools to further the use of Medical Arcana. Today he wanted to discuss the Homunculus spell, but desires Jones's input.\n\nWhile waiting, he had a servant bring him a pot of tea. Today was Kandagulu Jasmine— and incredibly luxurious tea, imported from that gods forsaken jungle land. Henryk had some capital to spare, in fact, he was already beginning to make foreign investments to generate more profits.\n\nHis attention right now was on the experiment at hand. He already collected some... Resources, but needed Jones's Hemomancy. This process was delicate. Complicated. Macabre and all things wrong. Fortunately, they were in Lazaroth, and the Mage Hand had no authority in this land.\n\nHenryk poured out some Jasmine tea for himself, placing a sugar cube inside the tea, and a little bit of milk. He stirred with his teaspoon before finally sipping the tea. Ah yes. It was nice and warm.\n\nAnd this laboratory was cold.\n\n...\n\nThe Doctor would stand in wait, reviewing the tomes again and again, until Jones made their presence known." }, { "author": "Doctor Jones", "message": "Homunculi. A concept that the Doctor had briefly looked into, once upon a time, but one they possessed neither the skills, nor the funds, nor the information to pursue back then. They had thought of it occasionally, but always lacked something, and as the decades went by, ended up losing interest in the matter completely. It had lost its importance over time anyway. They had no use for a new body, no use for test subjects, and they were way too busy with just helping people to even have the time to think about it.\n\nReally, they'd assumed that it would not be something they would ever look into again, and yet... Here they were. About to dive headfirst back into the subject. Sure, right now, the Doctor had no particular use for homunculi, but that curiosity of theirs had always been difficult to quell, no matter how much they tried to. And who knew, maybe there was going to be some useful way to apply the science - there was no way to know for certain until they tried, right?\n\nAnd so, the Doctor climbed down into the basement, ignoring the coldness of the place. They paused briefly in front of the door, then knocked, pushing it open a moment later and slipping through the crack before closing it again. \"Apologies for being late,\" They muttered, stuffing their hands into their pockets and sauntering over to Henryk to see what he was looking at. \"Fell asleep.\" They were indeed about twenty minutes late to the originally appointed time, but it sure as hell wasn't intentional.\n\nPerhaps in the time they'd been here, he'd learned of that habit of theirs. Their tendency to fall asleep at the most random of times, sometimes even while standing up or working on the more dull tasks. They didn't have an explanation for it, but it sure as hell was a pain in the ass for everyone involved.\n_ _\n\nWell, whatever. The Doctor didn't come here to worry about that, did they? No, they came here for a much, much more interesting reason - homunculi. \"How far do you intend to go with this research today?\" They questioned, peeking at some of the tomes with no regard for Henryk's personal space. That spark of curiosity in their eyes had been lit, it was hard to miss how much they were looking forward to this. \"What exactly is it that we are doing today, Doctor Henryk?\"" }, { "author": "Doctor Henryk", "message": "Twenty minutes late, and fashionably so. When Jones finally decided to show up the tea had already began growing cold. \"You're late. I hope the nap was good\" Henryk had spoken as Jones walked in, making a husk chuckle as they groggily walked on over. \"I had tea brought down. You're free to serve yourself. It's Jasmine.\" Doctor Henryk had finished his beverage sometime ago while waiting. \n\n\"For context, I've made a new acquaintance who possessed a series of Mage Hand books. Tomes of forbidden knowledge, generally kept from public eye. Homunculi. I'm sure you've heard the term. The 'little man' is a concept explored greatly in Alchemy. Ancient Alchemists use to tamper with the creation of artificial life— however it was never explore in-depth. My assumption would be that the research of Homunculi are banned by both the Alchemists Guild, and the Order of the Mage Hand.\" Doctor Henryk had glanced from Doctor Jones to his books. His hands would pick up one of the tomes as he held it up.\n\n\"Fortunately, my dear friend, we are in Lazaroth. All things dark and macabre are sanctioned here, and thus we can take our research of Medical Arcana to the extreme. We will be experimenting with Homunculi for the purpose of organ research.\" Henryk would introduce the goal at hand.\n\n\"You see, I've been utilizing animal organs for some time now to fabricate my concoctions. _However_, the local butchery doesn't always have fresh organs available for use. This is why I wish to experiment with Homunculi. They provide a humane way to experiment the effects of our medication we produce, they provide fresh organs for research... They also provide us an opportunity to understand the development of life, and how organisms are grown.\" Henryk had paused, before placing the tome down.\n\n\"My proposal is that we should explore research of Homunculi. To see if their organs are compatible with that of mortals, to test medications on them, as well as use them for other experiments that we may need subjects for.\" Doctor Henryk concluded.\n\nHe would wait to see how Doctor Jones felt about such an idea. To use Homunculi as a means to further their medical research. Additionally, he had other curiosities about artificial life... Something he wouldn't express yet.\n\nHe looked to Jones expectantly, looking for an answer.*" }, { "author": "Doctor Jones", "message": "With a wave of a hand, the Doctor dismissed Henryk's statement and went to pour themself a cup of tea, a tad annoyed that it had gone cold. Oh well. Nothing to be done about that. They plopped in a small handful of sugar cubes, making the liquid nigh undrinkable to most, and then stirred, gazing over at the tomes once more as they did so. As Henryk started his explanation, they continued to speak, and upon realizing that the liquid was too saturated and the rest of the sugar would dissolve no longer, set aside the spoon and took a sip, trying to use what warmth of the drink remained to push out the cold of the basement. It wasn't very effective.\n\nHowever, the more Doctor Henryk spoke, the more they lost interest in the drink. The Doctor's attention was caught by his words, and they lightly brushed over the cover of one of the tomes with their left hand, gaze transfixed upon it. Creating life for the purpose of experimentation... Making the organs used in his various concoctions, and of course...\n\n\"An ethical way to experiment upon living creatures,\" The Doctor muttered without realizing they'd said it out loud. They couldn't help it. Lips curled into a faint smile, and their usual exhaustion was somewhat lifted from their face. Even their heart started beating a little faster. The endless knowledge that this experiment would bring, it was hard to comprehend, the possibilities impossible to figure out right now - but they were endless. Having an endless supply of bodies to work with, to test out anything without having to worry about the ramifications, more blood than could ever be given to every injured person in the world, maybe even... Maybe organs could even be given in the same way blood could. Phaendar... Can I finally cure you?\n_ _\n\nThe Doctor realized that they'd gotten lost in thought and cleared their throat, pulling themself back to reality. \"Do you think it's possible?\" A short pause, then they shook their head. \"No, I don't care if it's possible. No matter what ends up happening, I have no doubt that this will provide valuable data for my- Our* Research.\" They turned to look to Henryk, smile broadening ever so slightly, a rare spark of excitement in those usually so dull eyes. \"What do you need me to do, Doctor Henryk?\"" }, { "author": "Doctor Henryk", "message": "Doctor Henryk would smile, seeing as Jones was unbothered by the idea of engineering artificial life— in fact, he was quiet happy that Jones seemed to taken a liking to Doctor Henryk's idea of experimenting with Homunculi.\n\n\"I'm glad to see you're undeterred. Most couldn't stomach the ideas so macabre.\" Henryk had spoken. \"Okay. I'll explain further...\"\n\nWith a pause, collecting his thoughts, and beginning. \"The ritual which has been described in these tomes require a _womb_ suitable for incubation of the Homunculi. I have spoken to the local butcher here in Syvathere, and acquired three cow wombs. All their sexual organs in tact, and ready to be experimented with. I'm going to need assistance from you in creating a self sustained artificial womb out of these organs. I believe your Hemomancy will come in use for this process.\" Henryk had give a moment for Jones to process what he had said, before continuing onwards with his thoughts.\n\n\"Presuming we create the 'artificial womb', we must collect organic material for the process. As a control, we'll be using organic material from one donor—\" He would look to Jones, meeting their eyes. \"—yes, we can use _multiple_ donors in the process if we so pleased.\" He would clarify for his fellow doctor. \"The necessary component will be either yours or my blood. The conductor of the ritual must provide their blood, or else the Homunculi will not obey. Supposedly a telepathic link is forged between the caster and Homunculi once it has been born— allowing us control over the creature.\" Henryk provided an elaboration, making it clear that one of the two must provide blood during the process, lest they wish to be victim to a feral beast with no master.\n\n\"Assuming we can make three wombs, we'll have three homunculi being produced. The minimum period to creating these creatures is _seven_ days. For our first experiment, we'll be seeing the difference in incubation period between each Homunculi. I think one week, two weeks, and three weeks is a good first experiment. As for the organic material provided... Who other than _us_ to provide. This is our experiment, after all. There is no need to drag anyone else into this.\" Henryk would rationalize. \"Just remember... These creatures are _not_ extensions of us. They are not our children. They are beings without souls. They can _never_ replace you or I— or anyone.\" Henryk spoke with a sudden seriousness, a particular depth to illustrate to Jones that they cannot feel merciful towards these beings. No matter how mortal they may seem.\n\nHenryk would let out a hefty sigh. \"My, I'm parched. I don't typically speak this much— I can't help but admit I am quiet excited.\" He would say, making a husk chuckle." }, { "author": "Doctor Jones", "message": "The Doctor showed a vague hint of amusement at Henryk's mention of 'macabre', though it was one that was quickly hidden. Could this really be considered that macabre compared to the things they'd already done? The crimes they'd committed in the past? Right now, it didn't feel that way, though depending on the way this went... It might end up becoming worse. There was no way to know for certain.\n\nThey shook those thoughts out of their head and took a sip from their tea, holding the cup in both hands as the other doctor continued speaking, explaining everything. With the amount of preparation he'd put into this... Had he already assumed that they would agree to this?\n\nThat, too, was pointless to dwell upon at this moment in time. That explanation of Henryk's was so much more interesting anyway. The Doctor listened wordlessly, silently amazed at the amount of knowledge he'd managed to find on the topic. When they researched it, there were only a few snippets, snippets that they did find back in the explanation, but that hadn't been nearly enough to construct the full picture they were getting right now. It was astounding what money and the lack of influence from the Order could accomplish.\n\nBut then he turned serious suddenly, and the Doctor's smile faltered as they averted their gaze. Right. Of course. It made sense, but... It was still good to have it pointed out so clearly. \"I understand,\" They said just as firmly after letting the silence linger for a moment or two. They shouldn't get any strange ideas from this, this was for science only.\n\nAnother few long moments of silence as they pondered, giving Henryk plenty of time to pour himself another cup of tea if he so desired. There was a lot to think about, but there was one question that seemed the most important right now.\n_ _\n\n\"Whose blood is it that we will be using for this?\" Normally, it'd be an easy choice - pick whoever was healthiest, which would likely be Henryk, if not by much. However, in this case... It was a little more complicated. \"I'm assuming that my experience with hemomancy would perhaps make me the better subject. Additionally, and do feel free to correct my assumption if I'm wrong here, I do believe that between the two of us, I have the most experience with using one's own body for experimentation.\" The Doctor looked down into their cup as they said that, a slight discomfort emanating from their expression.\n\n\"Either way, I'm sure you'll agree only one donor would be best, to keep the amount of variables as low as possible.\" If Henryk had any arguments for the case that he should be the one, though... Well, he was welcome to give them. After all, this was a conversation between two medical professionals, was it not? Surely the two of them should be able to respectfully agree or disagree with each other." }, { "author": "Doctor Henryk", "message": "Doctor Henryk listened to Doctor Jones's logistics that they'd be the better donor. In truth, that maybe the case, to use Jones who has a history for bodily experimentation and their aptitude in Hemomancy. Yet, this was something that hadn't been done for in perhaps centuries. The creation of the _first_ modern day Homunculus. Doctor Henryk had admitted it time and time again, he was a made filled with pride and ego— akin to that of a High Elf like Jones.\n\nHenryk would made a sigh, before softly chuckling. \"You bring up logistical points, my friend. But, allow me to be honest... I desire to be the blood donor simply for the honour of being the first to bring _Artificial Life_ to the modern era. We'll be experimenting with both our blood eventually— but who will be the _first_ to do so?\" Doctor Henryk had mused, before pulling out his coin purse, swiping one of his coins from the bag.\n\n\"Lets flip a coin on it. I respect you enough to be the primary donor, and master of the first modern Homunculus. It's why I have no qualms leaving the decision to fate. Heads shall be I, and tails shall be you.\"\n\nWith that, Henryk let out a hefty sigh, before flipping the coin. The piece of metal would soar in the air, rapidly spinning, before landing in Henryk's open palm. He'd then slam the coin onto the table, covering it. Henryk looked to Jones, nodding, then removed his hand.\n\n...\n\nThus, fate decided Doctor Henryk to be the first, as the coin displayed Heads.\n\n\"That question is now answered. For the first three Homunculi, I shall be the donor. The next three we shall use your blood. We'll study and draw conclusions from there.\" Henryk would state, moving his hands to his sides.\n\nAfter a brief moment of silence, the raven haired man would let out a slight chuckle, sweeping his hair back with his left hand, as his pale blue eyes met Jones's own eyes. \"I'll admit... That _was_ childish of me.\" He would say. \"However the world wouldn't develop without some competition, no?\" \n\nHenryk would walk over to metal table, a cloth covering it. \"Now then... The primary reason I need you.\" He'd grab the cloth and pull it off to reveal three sets of cow organs on display. \"We have some work to do. I was thinking of creating a essentially a flesh sack coated by leather which would contain the womb. We'll be using water and sugar to feed the sacks during this process— it'll still act as an organism after all, to some capacity.\" The Doctor explained. He looked to Jones, and waved them over. \n\n\"Come now— lets change into our _work_ garments. We have some work to do.\" \n\nYes, it was indeed time to work." } ]	522	3,791
612	1776-07-04	GuildPublicThread	[ { "author": "Doctor Henryk", "message": "The day had finally arrived.\n\nAfter a lengthy discussion held with her majesty, it was agreed upon that Doctor Henryk may take Lady Vierna's hand in marriage. To become Patron of Syvathere under the condition he remained loyal to Lazaroth and her people, and to help the Queen with her ailment. A condition Henryk had accepted most graciously, as now neither he or his Fiancée had to hide their love anymore. The people of Syvathere, especially that of the Drow populace found this to be preposterous. A taboo. However despite the scrutiny, they were forced to accept the truth of the matter— that the Queen of Wolves endorsed this union between Drow and Halfling.\n\nIn a simple dressing room, Doctor Henryk was dressed in shades of grey. His raven hair quaffed by the butlers as they ensured that he had appeared fit to be presented with the Duchess. Standing before a mirror he wore grey slacks, a lighter grey dress shirt, and a darker grey sleeveless vest top, matched with the pin of the Hanging Tree braced over his chest. He had been adorn in Lazaroth's colours, to match Vierna when they would speak their vows and bind their marital pact.\n\nHenryk pondered to himself how he had gotten here— how a street urchin turned doctor managed to become betrothed to a Duchess in a foreign land? So much had happened in a short amount of time, he felt blessed to be here today— he would have it no other way. He knew his curse, but even the devil would not steal this day from him. Even if Ulmos attempted to make contact, Henryk would do his best to push away this villain from his mind. For now, he would focus on what was important. His wife.\n\nHe had been longing to call her that, and today he will finally have the opportunity. For once in his life he had felt anxiety. The way his heart had been racing, breath uneasy— he was nervous, but his arrogance and confidence would disallow him from showing such emotions." }, { "author": "Duchess Vierna Argith", "message": "𝓛𝓪𝓭𝔂 𝓥𝓲𝓮𝓻𝓷𝓪 𝓐𝓻𝓰𝓲𝓽𝓱\n\n_Only by a Queen's approval, would this moment truly blossom. An event shaped by an unplanned meet. Within foreign lands, paths unexpectedly crossed to the realm of Wolves and Matrons. From a humble clinic to a glorious Estate. From the calm of simplicity, to the daring stares of cynical observers. The wedding of a Duchess was no place to simply ignore, no matter the supposed taboo that clung tight to the pairing. Nobles of Lazaroth flanked by the company of the Doctor's wants. A Matriarch present and with her approval, all bearing witness to an event overseen by Lunam's watchful gaze. Within the Temple in Syvathere, the Duchess would finally claim a Duke. And in truth, bind forbidden lovers._\n\n_Silence crept upon the busy rush of Vierna's quarters. Maids at the ready, working in unison with the Lady at mirrorside. Every lace done to perfect adjustment, every dab of the brush at her cheek. - A truly larger punishment awaited those who failed a Noble on the day of their marriage. Yet, something more stirred than such simple mistakes, thoughts parading at the mind of the Duchess. Anxiety, at what came next. The churning ache at her stomach, the twisting tides of politics at her neck for such a rash decision to marry. Perhaps it would have been better to claim some Lesser Noble of an elevated family, to harness greater trust with the local guilds or magical families of past. And yet, no other man had ever stepped in the places the pair had come. The peculiar Doctor had her heart, and by Ashira's approval, there would be no stopping this event now._\n.\n\n_After much murmur amid the Temple of Lunam, curious eyes both eager and passively observing would dart to the growing movements at the main doors. With swift beckon of a well-dressed Butler, the masked Drowish musicians would be cued in to begin. From a Harp, woven in Spidery-webs would a most soothing and Lazarothi tune play. A hired Illusionist silently murmuring a cast, as the ceiling grew encased in a night-like aura. A shimmer of darkness, flanked by bright star light. How fitting, as the main doors soon came to an opening._\n\n_And so came the Duchess.._\n\n_The strum of Spidery-webs paced delicately, matching the graceful steps of the arriving Noble. All would fall quiet upon the display, as upon the manufactured Night light, came one most devoted to Lunam's stares. The Duchess. The Matron. The Bride. The familiarity in her style retained, Sapphire blue eyes surrounded by the Dark shades of the She-Elf. Her skin marked by white dapples, and ever more by the careful and elegant work of her Maids. A darkening around her eyes, a glittery tune at her cheeks. Her lips, natural if not for the slight gloss that wouldn't dare remain too intruding. Silver locks braided similar to a crown, yet traces of her length retained and left to drape to her upper back. A beauty that was a struggle to doubt, yet little had been said of the gown that draped her._\n.\n\n_A wedding-themed white dashed by Lazarothi greys. As befit Vierna and her natural style, the wedding dress remained shoulderless and free. Her neck, draped by a manner of jewelerry that dazzled in the nightlight. A long skirt that followed after her by trail, carefully guarded by the Maids that followed. Bracelets apparent yet her hands kept bare. Most intriguing however, was the veil that draped over her head and hair. Mimicking web-like details, the Spidery fashion had been all the craze._\n\n_Behind that veil, came curious stares mustering her composure. Eyes upon the crowd, understandably expecting a quiet scrutiny. Yet, as soon as she saw Him, The strangest of relief overtook her thoughts. Henryk, oh how scared she imagined he was. All behind that confident visage, the two truly had that in common. Soon their gaze would meet, and so would encourage those steps as she began her trek along the Aisle. There had been no requirement for an escort, in Lazaroth the Matron likely understood to handle walking just fine. Pacing her steps with the tune of the Spidery-harp, Vierna managed the faintest of stares to familiar faces. From sassy Huntresses to Cunning Nobles, all would fall to silence at this union; or face the wrath of the Matriarch that allowed it._\n\n_And so, soon enough, would she finish her trek and closen to the Man who waited. The closer she got to him, the quieter the room felt. The anticipation, bringing a smile to her face as she soon positioned herself at his side. The Priestess of Lunam awaited them, and soon the ceremony would truly begin._" }, { "author": "Doctor Henryk", "message": "He could hear every step she made. With each pace approaching, the world became quieter. His heart raced. It _pounded_ like it was ready to jump out from his chest. Oh how she radiated. Dressed in hues of grey, her blue skin and starlit freckles which doted her skin made him think of night skies— she truly was graced by Lunam's beauty.\n\nSilence began to wash over the crowd as she took her place beside the Doctor. He would smile at her, unable to maintain his composure as happiness was flooding from his being. Where most Lazarothi couples united not due to love, but due to politics, these two united willing because they truly felt for one another. In this destitute land, romance could be found between the shades of lies and half-truths, that Lazaroth could yield something truly pure.\n\nHenryk now faced the Lunam Priestess himself, standing beside Vierna. He couldn't help but occasionally shift his gaze to Vierna, before quickly looking back to the Priestess as she had begun the ceremony.\n\nThe rites began, and the Priestess would open with introducing the couple to be wedded within Lunam's temple. She would speak through the customs— to Henryk words began to blur as his attention was not on her, but to Vierna's very breath. O' how he wished to hold her hand right now. How he wished for the eyes of onlookers to gaze away— but he knew they needed to witness this. They needed to know that this union is to be, whether they objected or not. It was written in the night sky by the Moon God that these star crossed lovers were fated to be together.\n\nThen the Priestess would motion a hand for the fair to look to one another. Slowly, Henryk would turn his body to face Vierna's. Eyes locked with hers. The cold dead blue eyes he possessed more than a year past were long gone. He did not look upon his wife-to-be with a clinical gaze, no, his eyes held warmth. The blizzard which clung to his irises had long since cleared to reveal blue skies. Spring had came with Vierna's presence— Henryk was a man whole. Far beyond a touched starve Half-Concubus, but now an individual who had found the person he needed to be complete. He gave his heart to her, and likewise, she gave hers to him. He would do everything in this world to keep Vierna happy. To keep her _safe._\n\n`\"Doctor Henryk. You may speak your vows to Matron Argith.\"` The Priestess spoke to the Doctor, their gaze looking upon Henryk, whilst his own gaze remained locked to Vierna's.\n\nHenryk, clearing his throat, spoke loud and clear— for everyone and for all within this temple to hear.\n\n\"I, Doctor Henryk, in the presence of Lunam and the people of Lazaroth, pledge my mortal body and soul to you, Vierna Argith. I taketh thee to be my wife, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, for in sickness, and for in health, I shall remain ever faithful even after death; I thereto pledge thee my faith.\" \n\nAfter a brief pause, Henryk would speak a last phrase— perhaps something not typically heard at weddings when reciting one's vows...\n\n\"I love you, Vierna.\" \n\nThe Priestess, seeing as Henryk had finished speaking his vows turned to Vierna. \n\n`\"Matron Argith. You may now speak your vows to Doctor Henryk.\"` They would hold their gaze to Vierna, whilst she looked to Henryk...\n\nThe audience waited expectantly, especially after Doctor Henryk spoke his final sentence— his declaration of love. Would the Duchess reciprocate?\n\nAnticipation filled the air..." }, { "author": "Duchess Vierna Argith", "message": "_The moments began to blur. The anticipation clear as vows began to be recited in the presence of Lunam. A wedding, a binding. A Matron to claim a Man, a Duchess to find her Duke. But as they turned and their gazes locked, Vierna struggled to look at him with the cunning mind of a politician. There was no land to gain from him, no alliance to bind her connection to the land greater. No Noble friends would be made from this ceremony, atleast those in Lazaroth. Moments continuing to pass, her eyes lost within his as she watched his lips move. A vow, that he offered firmly and with little in the way to stop him_\n\n_Yes, the thoughts of a politician quickly wavered. A brightening sensation harnessed within her, an confidence if not foolish but so surely needed. The customs of the mainland fluttered in her thoughts. No longer could she simply see him as a means for gains, but of a life together. A husband at her side. A Father, for their children. A means to a Family never before experienced, and how perfectly Henryk concluded his vow, bringing a smile to the speechless Drow._\n\n_Her turn came, a brief look upon the Priestess before her stares returning. The audience, how they watched. Their thoughts, likely to sow gossip and deceit. Within that stare however, she would focus entirely upon him. The much needed confidence._\n\n\"I, Vierna of House Argith, Matron of Syvathere and devout to Lunam, take you as my Man. My Husband. To have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness, and in health, I shall remain ever faithful even after death. May we dream together in the night.\"\n\n_Her vow complete, Vierna had the mind to reply to his unexpected final words. By her stares, she intended on waiting til the perfect time. Now, allowing the ceremony to go forth._" }, { "author": "Doctor Henryk", "message": "The Priestess spoke thus,\n\n`\"Then with the power vested within me, I decree thee Husband and Wife.\"` The Priestess would clasp her hands together, as moonlight passed from the temple's roof to shower onto the pair. Lunam recognizes their marriage, and are now bonded by the Moon Lord presence.\n\nThere'd be an uproar of cheers from where Henryk's peers had been sitting. Loud whistles and clapping would shower the venue whilst the Lazarothi nobles remained more cordial, giving simple claps.\n\nHenryk, holding Vierna within his gaze, would bring a hand to her waist side, pulling her closer as he looked down to smile at her. \"I hope you don't mind...\" Before leaning in to kiss the She-Elf before the crowd, which only caused Henryk's entourage to grow even rowdier in celebration.\n\nHe hadn't cared for politics presently— No, he simply wished to declare his undying fealty to his now Wife. That none would tear them apart.\n\nThe future was now at hand. What more would be beholden between the pair? How will their path shape now that they were in unity?\n\nThe future in Henryk's eyes remained uncertain, but his confidence and unwavering optimism will ride out any storm that comes their way. After all, he and Vierna were strongest together.\n\nNot even the Devil will take this day from him." } ]	440	3,060
448.615385	1776-07-04	GuildPublicThread	[ { "author": "Niles Haran", "message": "It wasn't often that Niles had too many out-of-town deliveries, but when they came around, he tended to enjoy them more often than not. It wasn't too long ago - perhaps ten or thirteen years - that he thought he would spend his life in one singular town, never venturing out to a place like A'shona. He checked his brown leather bag over again to make sure the book was securely wrapped in place, not in danger of wrinkling or folding before it was first opened. It was bad business to have a damaged product to deliver. \n\nAs he stepped from the wayshrine, his face was met with a warm breeze that could only have come from living south of the mountains - though the sight of the town, with its thatched roofs and stone walls, occasional shingles, and the constant bustle of the market brought back memories indeed. It was quieter in Gantrick, he remembered, for there were less people to fill the air with noise. He heard someone call for eggs in the distance amongst the jumble of conversation - and the sunlight of the late morning was doubtless warming the manure he faintly smelled in the distance.\n\nSome people hated the smell, but for him, it was a reminder of home - one that he didn't often encounter.\n\nA casual walk through the square took him to the marketplace, where he had heard the far-off yell for eggs - and his eyes skipped from place to place, casing the area and making sure that he was on the right streets. Through the crowd of people he walked, happy to hear the bartering and arguing that meant the city was living and breathing. Signposts gradually pointed him towards his destination - a small house past the mill road, beyond the gate and well into the heart of A'shona.\n\n_ _\nHis daggers rested inside his jacket, and though a friendly smile was affixed to the face of the golden-haired courier, he knew that nothing was more dangerous than an out-of-town delivery at times. If an enemy had found him out and wished to get him someplace vulnerable, the cost was only a few silver coins.\n\nA few minutes later, he found himself walking steadily on a cobblestone road, his gray cloak firmly around his shoulders, enjoying the sunshine. He never really disliked the heat, despite the way he was dressed - it spoke to the gecko in him, he supposed. Heat meant sun, and sun meant comfort. Much different than the freezing winters of Gantrick had been. Niles was a lean man, with a long, angular face that seemed to be ever-smiling - but this time, it was true.\n\nBlue-gray eyes darted from house to house, searching for the right signposts for the address..." }, { "author": "vrba_2640_vrba", "message": "Siora: The cobblestone road that would lead to his destination would slowly start to become less and less the stones being covered more in dirt and grass as it showed the path was old and less kept up as the rest of the roads around the town. The road would start to go more into an outer area with trees and what sounded like a stream close by. It was a peaceful walk to the cottage, the birds singing as the grass would blow softly in the breeze. As Niles was getting closer to the off path home he would see in the distance a small cottage. The cottage was built on a foundation of stones off the ground by five feet, no doubt under that stone area was a small root cellar. The cottage itself was made up of logs that had been intricately cut and stacked to make up the two stories of the house, it than framed around the windows and edges with a darker wood to set off the bleached out colored logs used for making up the home. It was small, no doubt being all one room for the main area and small upstairs for more storing and a bed to be in. \n\nIt was surrounded by trees and as they got closer could hear the stream more clearly. The person who had built this home had no doubt built it by the stream for easy access to the water as it didn't seem they had a well close by to draw water from. The place almost felt like it was more connected to nature than other places closer to the town. Maybe this is something that this person wanted was to be away from others. It sure seemed almost like they were a bit of a recluse with how far out there were from the town.\n\nOn the small porch there would be some chimes hanging above the door, they would be made out of wood and carved with introcate lines. Made to ward off evil spirits from entering the home and the area around the cottage. The person living in the cottage was a bit superstical on wanting to keep the evil away from their home, mostly because they feared that they might become a fairy that would do more harm to others if around them for too long. Though they still were searching for their purpuse in life and for now they thought that as finding maybe who their father was if they were luck." }, { "author": "Niles Haran", "message": "As the cobblestones began to thin, Niles's mood improved further. The manure he'd smelled in the distance was more pungent here as he made his way to the outskirts of A'shona city. In such a place as Thyseer, the very countryside was alive with magic. Everything was intensified, a sign of its taint with fey magic. The half-frozen countryside of Slydenn was much different than this warm paradise, but still, one farm could hardly be too different from another. Both places required water and sun and tending for crops to grow, no matter what they might be. It was hard work, but rewarding.\n\nThe trickle of a stream met his ears, and around the banks sprouted a small copse of trees. The home that sat next to it, presumably his destination, was a simple log cabin with a stone foundation. Unconnected to any of the surrounding farmland, but still a cozy place to live if one had a way to make their living. Immediately, the eye for detail of its inhabitants was on full display - the carvings on the chimes, the dark stain around the windows. Two stories was a rather large house for a solitary dwelling, but who was he to judge? All he'd been paid for was the book delivery. Three silver pieces, his out-of-town rate. It was the same as urgent deliveries, and usually worked out to be cheap enough that people considered it.\n\nThe porch seemed well-made, he thought - and the chimes were well-fashioned, too. If this was a woodworker's home, he could have believed it. A few carpenters he knew chose to maintain houses out near the farms they serviced. It would have made a good deal of sense - but as Kalev often said, the mind of a spy must be open to information and closed to assumptions. He made his way to the door, knocking the dust off his boots on the small cobbled path to the porch along the way, and raised his knuckled to it. A quick few raps on the door made for a good alarm, in his estimation.\n\n_ _\n\"Ethan Pedron, courier service.\" He called into the house as he stepped back from the door, seemingly at ease. His left hand lingered near a hidden dagger, ready to grasp it should he need to - just in case. Niles was a lean man, with a weathered face that seemed to be forever smiling. His hair was the color of golden straw and fell to his ears. Crinkled eyes of a cloudy gray-blue peered around the shop, finding most of it as it had been. He wore tough, simple work pants of beige cloth, and worn-out boots of brown leather. Under the gray peddler's cloak was a dusty brown tunic." }, { "author": "Siora Qira", "message": "Siora would be busy bustling around her cottage, though it might look big at being a two story it really wasn't big at all. It was small and the second story really was more just a loft like area that had a window looking out if you so wanted to. Siora wasn't very craftly or so she thought but had spend a long time building the small cottage to her liking and with the things that made her feel safe. Moving out of the towns was a big step for her but one she was glad to have made since she felt a connection to nature once again. As long as she didn't find a hunter around her place hunting just for fun, she seemed to be fine with the people around her.\n\nAt hearing someone knocking she would look at the door, leaning back and tilting her head to let her good ear be close to the door to make sure she had heard a knock and to keep from spilling her arms full of things she had been moving around. Yelling out to the door once she realized someone was there. \"Give me just a moment! I will be right there, I am just a bit fu-\" At that moment there would be a loud crash in the house as Siora would drop all of the things in her arms as she had tripped on the edge of the rug she had, a sling of curses coming out next as she would was cursing out the rug and a few other things.\n\nIt would take a bit more before the door would open up, a disheveled woman would be standing in the doorway, though they were only around 4'5\". It became obvious quickly that they were a fairy with the wings behind them, but they also had some other blood in them with the taller side. Though the strangest part was the tattoo looking marks on their skin, it was not fully normal for a fairy but was not normal for any other type either. Siora would push her hair out of her face as she looked up at the person in front of her. \"Ah! Uh hello, do you need something? Sorry for taking so long to get to the door. Also, if you wouldn't mind speaking a bit louder when you talk. I can only hear partially.\" Once her hair was out of her face there as a distinct scar running from her ice blue eye to her ear on her left side." }, { "author": "Niles Haran", "message": "A crash from inside, a yell. The inhabitant of the two-story cabin seemed a bit clumsier than the exterior would suggest. Perhaps they'd paid for it, but he supposed that was irrelevant. A woman's voice from the inside. A little off key. Cursing. A commoner's accent. If this was an act, it was certainly quite convincing. A female commoner, perhaps with some skill at crafts, definitely quite attentive to appearances. Perhaps not attentive to their balance, if the clatter from inside was to be believed. \n\nA few moments passed, and Niles simply enjoyed the sunshine, retrieving the book from the brown leather bag and dusting off the covering it had been wrapped in. Best to have the package ready for delivery when the door was opened. As the hinges swung and the inside was revealed, he quickly assessed the woman that appeared in front of him. Short, much too short to be an elf. Hair knocked about around her face. Wings askew. A half-fairy, then, for she was much too tall to be a full one. The tattoos were of some interest - not too many people chose to mark their skin unless they were status symbols. Many who could not afford to choose had theirs marked as slave branding.\n\nIt was intricate, but that told little other than the fact that someone valued the marks. A valued slave was still a slave. The scar might have lent some credence to that assumption, as well - there was a long mark, trailing from eye to ear. He was surprised she had hung onto life, from the location alone - the ear was scarred over, and that meant that the blade had bitten deep into her face. Not enough to crack her skull. Torture was a possibility.\n\n\"Oh, uh- I'll try to speak up.\" A false fumble was a good way to assure people you had made some slipups. He cleared his throat, spoke a bit too loud. \"My name's Ethan Pedron! I'm a courier from Ardunon - I have a book for you! On The Nature of Fairies and Their Magick, by Callum Elenya!\"\n\n_ _\nThe calculations occurring behind the smiling eyes of Niles Haran went unspoken as he brandished the package, ever polite. There was no pause given as he covered his tracks with business - his mouth moved almost automatically as he made his estimations. Kalev had hammered it into him in training, before his face was changed.\n\n\"Is this the right address!?\"" }, { "author": "Siora Qira", "message": "Siora would laugh a bit at him speaking a bit louder than needed. A lot of people did that when around her as they always mistook her lack of full hearing to being she could hardly hear unless you were yelling at her. Though she didn't take it as offensive or anything, she simply found it funny and usually would tease someone about it. \"I think you got the volume a little loud, we don't won't to get me deaf now. Yes, you are at the correct address. That's the book I ordered. I'm trying to figure out about my father, got to be answers about the fairy type to get some idea. My mother was never much help for me learning about him. I figure than maybe if I learn about different fairies I can see which kind he is. It's all kind of exciting I suppose to see if you can solve the mystery.\" \n\nSiora would smile at him a bit, she didn't much care about how her scars looked. At one time she'd tried to hide them, act more like a good fairy and all that but she'd learned it was better to be herself as long as she stayed away from ones who decided to hurt the nature around her. Than she usually was needing to hide a dead body or make it look as if an animal attack had happened. Though luckily that only happened a few times. \" Oh, uh since you come such a long way from the town would you like something to drink or eat? Also I can tell your thinking I look a bit different from a normal fairy and such. And no I was not a slave. Close once but not one of those, these are more... A mystery to myself as to others.\" She would point to the tattoos as even she didn't understand how her scars had turned into the tattoos and how they glow at night. She wondered if it was something to do with her father as her mother never had such fairy magic. Though of course her mother always said she was just blessed by the moon goddess so who knows what the real answer was. Wouldn't really find it out here.\n\nSiora would tilt her head a bit as she would look at him. She'd lived out here long enough to get a read of others to some extent, not saying she was great at it but she could tell he kept his guard up even though he acted like a simple delivery man." }, { "author": "Niles Haran", "message": "\"...Sorry, ma'am, I didn't realize.\" His head dipped for a moment in embarrassment that bled through a little into reality. It wasn't the worst conjecture that the ear damage would have led to a need for greater volume, but so be it. At least it was the right address - she seemed to need the book, so he handed it over to her carefully, making sure the book wasn't damaged in transit.\n\n\"That'll be three Findaran silver, or the equivalent.\" He replied politely. He hadn't asked a single question beyond the address, but the information she was spouting seemed so voluminous and so readily given that she must have been asked a fair few times before - or else, she was providing a cover story very clumsily. Either she was a horrific spy or socially awkward. She'd grown up without a father, had no idea how she'd been tattooed? He supposed these were her mysteries to unravel, and he had no part of them - but a drink of water on the long road would be rather nice. It had been a while since A'shona, and a refill of his waterskin would be rather nice.\n\n\"If you wouldn't mind, ma'am, I could do with a cup of water and some for the road.\" He nodded in acceptance, a friendly smile still in place as she looked up at him. That glance he knew - it was scrutiny. He was beginning to think there was something to her beyond those tattoos that might be worth investigating. If this was a trap, he had to know - and perhaps he could capture her for questioning, if he made it out of this log cabin alive. He stepped forward into the cabin, ducking his head at the door.\n\nA small beige spider winked into existence on the roof, outside of her line of sight. Summoning his familiar was as easy as breathing, but more importantly, the eyes of the ogre spider were excellent, and Squint turned his gaze outward to scan the tree line, trying to spot any enemy operatives in the area. His vision fed into Niles's own, letting him experience both worlds in one as he continued into the house.\n\n_ _\n\"...Is there anywhere I can hang my cloak?\" He asked, standing on the doormat inside. \"It's nice to have it off, sometimes - especially as the weather warms up.\"" }, { "author": "Siora Qira", "message": "Siora would take the book as she would smile, running her hand lightly over the cover as she always loved the feel of a new book just as much as the feel from a worn out one. She was always studying something to try and find out her own mysteries but she'd yet to figure out a single one. Though she didn't let it keep her down as it wouldn't help her any to dwell on her failures so far. \n\n\"There's no need to apologize, it happens a lot. At this point it's just funny to me, though could also be just because I hang out in this area by myself a lot soooo could just be I'm a bit crazy.\" She would shrug as she stepped into her home as he walked in.* \"I will get the three Findaran silver, just will be a moment as I have to get them out of my jar. You can hang your cloak on the hook just to your right. The furniture is a bit on the short side but you are welcome to sit till I get some water for you and the payment.\"\n\nSiora would walk into her kitchen area not far on the other side of her cottage. The place was all one room besides a small divider for changing and washing up, though it was still close to the fireplace to have an easy way to get warm water. The kitchen was not much, a row of shelves and a small counter for cooking. It all just kind of quent in its look. She would flare out her wings to fly up to her top shelf to get a jar, it having her money in it. Usually not being smart to show where you keep such a thing but she didn't always think ahead at such things. Once coming back to the ground she would take out the amount needed and than get some water from a jug she had on the counter. Getting two cups filled so she had one as well before coming over to her table. \"Okay here is the payment and your water. I can refill your waterskin or bring the jug over if you want to fill it up instead.\"" }, { "author": "Niles Haran", "message": "There was a time when Niles would never have checked for anyone around the house, but now there was no place he did not go where he didn't believe he was being followed. The spider's vision swept one way and the other, taking in the sights of the idyllic river bend. Nothing visible. But nothing visible did not mean there was nothing invisible. The spider's eyes fell to the ground, looking for strange clumps of grass pressed down by an invisible footstep, shrubs brushed aside or sat upon by invisible bodies. Yet all around there was quiet save for the birds. \n\nThose he scrutinized next - as a shifter himself, Niles knew never to trust animals. His gecko form had allowed him to eavesdrop on one too many conversations for him to be comfortable seeing birds fluttering around, and the spider's eyes scoped each of them out, making sure they weren't lingering or watching the house...\n\nMaybe it was because she was a bit crazy, she said. Internally, Niles agreed immediately, but there was no way that the courier would have said as much to a patron. Certainly not before getting paid, or before getting a bit of water. No use biting the hand that fed you. He hung the cloak with a grateful nod and a smile, turning to a small but well-built chair to seat himself. The interior was a bit cramped for a shifter, but seemed just fine for someone as short as her - she was never going to be pressed for head room, he supposed.\n\n\"Thanks.\" He took the money in one hand, counting it out and weighing it briefly before placing it back into the brown leather bag he had carried in, then rising from his seat to fill up his waterskin. \"I'll fill it myself, don't worry about bringing it over.\" He assured her, moving to the jug not only as a favor, but to observe the contents - unusual smells could be indicators of poison, even if the water was otherwise clear..." }, { "author": "Siora Qira", "message": "\"Well that's fine. I collect the water from the rains or sometimes from the stream out back if I didn't get enough rain water for drinking. I think rain water always tastes better. Though could just be the secluse in me.\" She would set down the glasses of water before looking over at his cloak, she wondered a bit on where he'd gotten in as it seemed to still be together pretty well even though looking worn-out some. \"Oh would you like something to eat? I been having some vegetable soup simmering over the fire for a while so it would be about done if you would like some.\"\n\nSiora would seem to not mind having a stranger in her house as she just went about sort of doing what she was before he had came with her package. Take it over to a shelf of books as she set it down with the collection of fairy books she had. It was probably not something she would find in any book on what explained her tattoos or how she was a bit different from other fairies. She would need to go somewhere else and have either someone know more or have tests done to find out more. Though she never had any thoughts of finding it out from someone else. For her the small forest area was her home and where she felt safe, though to feel safe she wouldn't be finding answers.\n\n\"I hope you don't mind me asking but how long have you been a carrier? And what species are you? You don't have to answer any of that I just am curious as I don't meet many others out here. It's just me out here. Sometimes I think no one would notice if I was kidnapped or killed. Though that's just my thinking.\" She would shrug as she went over to her pot of soup and would taste it to see if it was about finished. Smiling at it tasting perfect to her." }, { "author": "Niles Haran", "message": "Rainwater, she said. It was hard not to think she was a bit wordy with her explanations - a habit that put him on edge still, as if there was more she was not telling. Talk, talk, talk - every word could be a smokescreen, meant to distract from the real truth. His mind was running in circles, trying to pay close attention to the way she spoke. Was there some sort of code?\n\nHe filled the waterskin, verifying that there was nothing visually different about it - but he thought better of staying for the soup. There was too much going on in this little cottage for his comfort. The way she carried on, the questions she was asking - it all added up to a bit more than a simple woman living in the woods, trying to find out about her past. There were too many suspicious phrases, words that didn't fall out of her mouth quite right.\n\n\"I think I'm all right, ma'am - wouldn't want to get indigestion on the road.\" He patted his stomach with a friendly smile. Best to get the answers out before he headed back to the city - letters to deliver and packages to haul. A drink or two, as well as a night of surveillance, were in order. Squint's vision returned nothing, yet again - and the spider winked out of existence, returning to the ether from which he had come.\n\n\"...I've been a courier about six years now, ma'am, but isn't that last one a bit of a strange question?\" He asked, cocking an eyebrow. 'Sometimes I think no one would notice if I was kidnapped or killed' was a WEIRD thing to say, and even if she wasn't an enemy spy, he would have been out of that house in a jiffy regardless. There was no reason to stay when someone started speculating about their death in front of you.\n\n\"I think it's best if I head out.\" He picked his way over to his cloak and bag once more, throwing it around his shoulders with a polite smile, bowing his head in thanks. \"But I appreciate the water, ma'am. Enjoy your book, and if you need anything delivered, don't hesitate to order again.\"" }, { "author": "Siora Qira", "message": "Siora would look at him and notice a bit she was talking too much. She would tend to do that when she was in a comfortable environment and with this being her home she was. She shook her head at her being a rambler, it tended to make people stray away from her a lot when she got like that since it wasn't exactly what you would expect with someone being a recluse in the forest.\n\n\"I don't blame you, you probably have a lot more packages to deliver and don't want to deliver any of them late if can help it. It sounds like you had a pretty good amount of experience in the job of a carrier. I'm sure you find yourself in many of new places. Would no doubt give you a chance to see more of places than just staying in one area.\" Siora would look at him before looking back at her soup, being embarrassed she said such a thing. \"I'm sorry about that, I tend to ramble... My mother always said I never really knew when to be quite when I was in an area I felt comfortable in. A bit why I moved out here I suppose, less people have to hear me just go one way than the other way with a conversation.\"\n\nShe would look back at him at hearing him grabbing his cloak \"I hope you have a safe travel to your next destination. I will enjoy the book, I haven't found what I'm looking for yet but it might be in this book.\" She would smile as she was trying to keep her own hopes up that just maybe this book would have the answers but didn't really believe it herself \"I doubt I will be getting any new books after this one, not unless some new fairy book comes out. I read every single one I can find by now, this was the last one. Guess if I don't find any answers here I guess I will just have to give up trying to figure it out.\" Siora would shrug as she would get her pot off the fire and set it down to cool \"Either way I wish you the best of luck and safety on your travels as a carrier.\"" }, { "author": "Niles Haran", "message": "\"Well, if you ever think you're staying in one place too much, consider that wayshrines make it easy to go anywhere in the world. If you really want to visit someplace, you can.\" He rolled his neck, stepping over the threshold and out of the house with a wave as she went on about her search for answers. At this point, his patience had worn thin - and then worn through. Nothing was going to get him out of the house fast enough.\n\n\"Have a good day, ma'am.\" He called over his shoulder as he set off down the path, seriously considering a drink as he made his way back to Findara..." } ]	463	5,832
251.857143	2022-06-09	GuildTextChat	[ { "author": "doctorscatman", "message": "The light that Hercule had been able to see off in the distance was what appeared to have been the remains of a fire. By the time he had arrived, there were little more than embers littering the mixture of unburnt wood and ash. Over the fire, the skinned, cooked carcass of a Koibra could be seen. It seemed untouched and recently made. Smoke still whisted off of it. Whatever lived here had been here recently.\n\nIf Hercule chose to survey the small property from every angle, he could see a well, perhaps with drinking water available for him. It appeared to be well maintained and free of contamination from a distance, but there was really no way to tell without going there and checking for himself.\n\nBut before he could make a choice, a fairly tall man, standing at 5'10\", dressed in what appeared to be a knight's set of armor walked into the campsite. He brought a few bundles of wood with him, carrying a bundle over each arm. With the size of the bundles, it could be assumed that the man was magically enhanced in some way, as it was highly unlikely for any man of his size to be able to carry one in each arm.\n\nAt his heels, a dire wolf followed along. It looked around the campsite, and its eyes finally rested on where Hercule was. Just as it appeared to begin peering closer to come and investigate the area, its attention was moved as the man spoke.\n\n\"Victor, sit.\" He said, dropping the two bundles of wood against the shack.\n\nHe moved over to a stool next to the fire, pulling a knife from his side to begin cutting a slice off of the Koibra. He began feeding piece after piece to the dire wolf, ensuring that the wolf was content before he began to feed himself." }, { "author": "freakin_popo", "message": "[Captain Hercule Bauer]\n\nHercule would have forced himself to come to a halt as his one opening to approach the well was interrupted by the arrival of the supposed knight and his pet, Hercule slinking back into a crouched position. A missed opportunity - but surely another must open up again, he would think to himself. This thought changed, however, as the dire wolf would look in his direction.\n\n'Oh you damned beast.' Hercule thought to himself, the hand that hovered over his hand crossbow moving to unclasp the strap that kept it secured. There would be no hesitation if it continued it's approach - he'd let a bolt off if he had to before making his retreat back into the gloomier parts of the swamp.\n\nAs the owner of the dire wolf called it's attention away, Hercule would let out a very low sigh of relief. He hadn't been discovered yet and thus could still benefit from acquiring something from the camp before continuing in his way. For now he would sit quietly, waiting for the two to finish their meal and retire for the evening before moving in." }, { "author": "doctorscatman", "message": "For the next two hours, the two sat there, eating slowly. Almost as if they had nothing else to do. The embers started the fire once more when the man offhandedly threw a handful of the sticks from one of the bundles from the fire. He would cut a piece off for himself and cut off an extra two for the dire wolf. With each piece cut, less and less of the animal was to be left if Hercule wanted to get something decent to eat.\n\nAs the time passed, and the direction of the wind changed, the man perked up a little, looking in Hercule's general direction. It appeared that he knew that there was Something There. He just couldn't be sure of the exact direction. However, after a few moments, he sat back in his place and continued eating. They didn't appear to be planning on retiring for quite a while.\n\nThe wolf, however, had remained resigned to staring at Hercule the entire time. Content with Hercule not moving toward them, and the food that it was getting, Victor knew not to ruin a good moment. But if Hercule made any move outside of making himself known Victor would begin barking his head off." }, { "author": "freakin_popo", "message": "[Captain Hercule Bauer]\n\nAn hour passed. Then another. With each moment that passed, the feeling of thirst, and hunger after having caught a few wiffs of the cooked Koibara, surged in Hercules gut and throat. With the occasional glance he caught from the man and his dire wolf, Hercule believed they must have been Taunting Him. The whole We know you're there, we'll just bide our time Situation. Even though Hercule was a considerably patient man - albeit, not in every circumstance - he would now feel no reason to be so. \n\n'Sit here and give you the satisfaction of waiting me out? Feeling like you're in a position to outplay me? I'll show you ya bilgerat.'\n\nHercule would suddenly emerge from the bush he crouched behind, giving one glance towards Arlen and Victor before starting to walk towards the well. He shared no words or made no direct movements towards them The Goliath was thirsty, and damn them if they would stop him from enjoying a few gulps of clean water." }, { "author": "doctorscatman", "message": "The rustling of the leaves would reach Arlen's ears, and almost immediately afterwards he spotted the man that he had smelled so many minutes prior. The stench of the Goliath was strong in his nose, but the wind had dispersed it so that he was not able to pinpoint an exact location. He knew where he was generally speaking, but not exactly. Seeing where he was now, Arlen looked at him.\n\nHe then spotted the man heading towards the well, and that was where Arlen felt the need to speak up. \"You'll want to be boiling that water before you drink it, stranger.\" Arlen's deep voice called after him. It was a northern sounding voice, far from the posh and imperial accent that would be expected of a man with his attire. He had a feeling that a man that appeared less savory in appearance might value his advice less if he spoke without reason, and so he paused before continuing on. \"Water was contaminated last night. I cleaned it up, but boil it to avoid sickness.\"" }, { "author": "freakin_popo", "message": "[Captain Hercule Bauer]\n\nHercule would come to a halt at the edge of the well as Arlen spoke, albeit for just a moment. With a low huff he would grab undo the rope keeping the barrel suspended in the air before allowing it to drop into the water below. A few moments later and Hercule would have been hoisting it back up with minimal effort, grabbing ahold of the buckets handle as it came into his sight. \n\n\"An' I don't suppose you'll deny me access to your fire there to boil said water, eh?\" Hercule would \"Ask\", already moving towards the opposite edge of the fire where Arlen and Victor were seated. \"Less you're against lettin' a stranger take care o' his needs.\"\n\nHercule would set the bucket down before slinging his pack off his shoulder, rummaging around until he pulled out something that resembled a pot - some kind of malformed piece of steel or some other that had been converted into a makeshift cookware. A few moments later Hercule would scoop up some of the water from the bucket with it before putting it by the fires edge." }, { "author": "doctorscatman", "message": "Arlen gave a weak smile before gesturing over to the food, the fire, and then finally the well. \"Make yourself at home, friend.\" He replied simply. \"Help yourself to the food if you're hungry. Just don't take anything that doesn't belong to you and we should get along just grand, eh? And I would advise you to move on. It's not very safe for regular folk out in the mires. Grumpkins and mirelurks and the sort. Nasty things you wouldn't want to catch yourself running into.\"\n\nFor a man as practiced in the arts of deception, persuasion, and intimidation as Hercule, he could immediately tell this was a front. Although he was honest in his allowing Hercule to use his equipment and take his food, something sounded Fake About his tone. Like he was hiding something. It was hard to tell, Very Hard to tell, but it was still there.\n\nVictor's hackles were raised, but Arlen genty brought a hand down to pet the wolf, and it slowly began to calm itself down. \"Not now, Victor. The old lad's a friend. Be respectful.\" He whispered to the wolf." } ]	233	1,763
231.6	2022-01-23	GuildTextChat	[ { "author": "Hjalmar Sigurdsson", "message": "Hjalmar hated the swamp. The mercenary mucked through the swamp, every so often stooping down at some footprint or a broken branch. He had to make better time than this. The bandits who carried off his client's family surely where fools for running off into the swamp. He chuckled, he guessed he was a fool for chasing them, but the man offered good pay. He shifted into the form of a very large wolf, and started sniffing the air. He could barely make out the sent of the bandits. He was on the right trail.\n\nThe shapeshifter continued down the route. It was easier to traverse the swamp in wolf form he noticed, and he lightly tread from strip of dry land to root to more dry land, avoiding the water. Even so, he still hated it. His wolf form was that of the Winter Wolf, a rare breed of dire wolf adapted to cold climates, not the hot weather of the swamp. He wouldn't stay long. Get the target, dispatch the bandits, get out. And goodness he hated mosquitoes." }, { "author": "Aralynn", "message": "Nature is wondrous in the ways it can communicate with the world, The Blackwater swamp is no different. When a branch is broken the swamp knows, the murky water is disturbed, the swamp knows, and when someone new enters the swamp knows...\n\n\nViolet eyes pier through the canopy of the thick willow staring down at a man as he transforms into a wolf and heads inside deeper into the belly of the swamp. A big smile would slowly begin to stretch onto a young Dryad's face as she whispered to herself, \"Oh boy some entertainment.\" Like a ghost in the wind, the Dryad would move through the swamp following the Wolf just out of sight and due to her scent being the same as the flora of the swamp out of smell. \n\n\nUsing a small bit of magic she would summon a strong gust of wind that would just barely push the wolf not enough to make their trip or fall but just a smidge so that they would get their front leg stuck in thick mud that fucking REEKED!!!!! \n\n\nAralynn had to hold her mouth shut as she giggled softly to herself knowing that the little inconvenience might get a reaction from the wolf. She watched on with excitement to see what the wolf might do now having its leg engulfed in mud that smelt for lack of better words like ass." }, { "author": "Hjalmar Sigurdsson", "message": "When his leg stepped in the mud he immediately yanked it back out, cursing under his breath. He did his best to ignore the horrid smell, being used to the battlefield bad smells where the norm, and kept going before realizing something. That strong of a wind this far in couldn't be natural. He first smelled the air then looked around, couldn't see or smell anything different, but he thought he heard a giggle off to the left. After looking in that direction but seeing nothing, he kept on going, deeper into the swamp.\n\nHe stopped after a few paces. Could he be going crazy, no probably not. That wind had to have been artificial, any natural wind would have been stifled with all this thick vegetation. He stopped and started searching the surrounding area, looking for movement. And listening for any out of place sound. It would be difficult to hide." }, { "author": "Aralynn", "message": "Aralynn smiled widely seeing the small amount of annoyance on the wolf's face. She missed messing with people although her pranks were nothing more than childish fun and no one ever got hurt she normally enjoyed them more than the other person. Then again no one has entered her Swamp in years... Decades maybe. She saw the wolf standstill and knew that they were definitely looking for them but Aralynn needed to get one last prank before she was going to be caught. \n\n\nHolding back her squeals of laughter she summoned a ball of ice-cold water that quickly dropped on the wolf's head. At that point, she couldn't keep herself from bursting out and began to laugh as hard as she could looking at the wolf. \n\nLooking to their left half-hidden behind a black willow tree Hjalmar would see a gorgeous dryad woman; With had elf-like ears, stunning violet eyes, skin that reminisce of the greens and browns of the murky waters that make up the swamp, straight hip lengthed hair that was made of willow vines and cattail plants, and curves like a forest goddess. Aralynn wasn't wearing any clothes, not that she needed or cared enough to own any. And knowing that the wolf saw her she would give him a heartwarming smile." }, { "author": "Hjalmar Sigurdsson", "message": "Contrary to the intent of the dryad, the water actually felt good to the wolf, cooling it down in the insufferable heat. He shook off the excess water, and hearing the dryad laughing he turned and quickly spotted her. Realizing it was just some local playing tricks, he rolled his eyes as he sniffed the air to catch the scent of the bandits. The trail was fresh, but lead up into some trees, likely as a route above some unseen body of water. After double checking that it was the way he was supposed to go, he shifted back into human form, and began to climb the tree.\n\nHe quickly got up a few feet to a wooden platform crudely nailed into the tree. He must be close to a large body of water, as an old rope bridge stretched out, and he could see a clearing partway across. \"This must be the trail\" He thought, and he examined the bridge, making sure it would support his weight. Satisfied, he grabbed hold of a rope handrail and began to cross slowly." } ]	221	1,158
731.333333	2023-06-03	GuildTextChat	[ { "author": "kyutefluffboi", "message": "\"Finally, civilization. Can't wait for a drink or two.\"\n\nIn the busy city of Alazaad, where its bustling community of various cultures culminate within the confines of their safe settlement, a woman would stand out the rest of the people like a sore thumb. For all the tradition colors of Khisfire, there is only one who bore the green colors of a woodland ranger. She hides her face behind a hood with only her golden locks peering out, shining gently in the hot sun.\n\nMany of its denizens would gaze upon her face. Taking a small glimpse, they are mesmerized by her foreign beauty. Her features were that of a fair maiden. Homely, meek, and sincere. The rest of her body is concealed in green robes, but even so, some are curious to see what is hidden within.\n\nUnfortunately, some were too curious for their own good. When a few guys approached her with a cocky grin, they flirted with her a few times and tried to touch her hair. Only to be met with a beat down of a lifetime with her strength surpassing that of three men. The locals began to gossip about her monstrous strength because of this incident.\n\n\"Fucking idiots...\" With a rather annoyed look on her face, she would leave the scene with one final back kick on one of her victims' head for good measure. The rumors of a 'demon woman' now spreads like wildfire, to which the people kept her distance from her. Much to her dismay, she can't ask for directiont to the nearest tavern. \n\nAfter much searching, she finally found a tavern where the ranger can eat and rest. \"Finally!\" Opening the door with excitement, she would see a rather strange and ominous vibe going on with the denizens of the fine establishment. \"....\" Instead of happiness, she yet made another heavy sigh. Hopefully no one dumb enough would try to hit on her.\n\nWith that said, she would sit in front of the counter. Ordering the barkeep of the place for local specialties of four dishes and four drinks. Which was to the surprised the locals within.\n\n-\nRosera paid no mind to them and started to simply wait for her order to arrive, with a hand on the counter, she placed her arm upright with her head on her palm. Having a rather bored expression that deserved a casual yawn." }, { "author": "sadremembrance", "message": "The tavern wasn't full of merely elves and other creatures alone - for sitting in a corner in a booth that held his weight upon its girthy, padded seat was a beast unlike any other - a beast whose eyes glimmered of yellowed amber and withheld annoyance. A tail swished carefully as it curled around his frame slightly - it was not quite dextrous, but it could move and shift enough to allow him a vantage point from which to sit. The Dragonborn's duo of horns hued an onyx-black curved backwards, as stiletto-slit pupils narrowed at the woman who sat at the bar counter. A spike-tipped, spine-laden tail swished agitatedly - clawed hands obfuscated by gauntlets merely began to audibly clench with the hint of grinding metal. A toothy maw full of pointed fangs found itself lapped at by a long, purple-pink tongue, forked at the very end like that of a serpent's. \n\nPlate armor rested around his frame, guarding his body like the chainmail and gambeson layers underneath it. Only a helmet was bereft upon the armor's otherwise encompassing features, same as with his tail and his rows of dorsal spines. Next to his sat an arming sword and a heater shield - to the dismay of the tavernkeeps, who could be seen pensively Glaring At the Dragonborn, whose ruby-red scales glimmered lowly in the light from those that were visible. It was as if molten fire contained themselves within them, ready to sear and roast those who would dare to assault the Dragonborn clad in such mighty armor. But it mattered little in any case - for the Ruby Gemstone Dragonborn merely sheathed his arming sword, and restrapped his heater shield to his arm with just as much swiftness.\n\nIndeed, for he Heard Of the commotion - a \"Demon woman\" Who assaulted men. A fool, then, perhaps, who sought to enrage the authorities of this local town. But it mattered not - for he, __Kunshokh__, would see to the will of his patron god, Anthron. The images of war flashed in his mind - the iconography and carvings and engravings of battle and death and combat bedecked upon his burly, brawny frame. A hound-skull necklace rested upon his neck, a holy amulet of a shield crossed by two swords upon the front of it that dangled from his wrist. His armor was worn and scarred, gouged, yet it still held true and achieved its duty of protection and endurance. For indeed, Kunshokh Marched, every crashing thud of his sabatons thudding from the seven-foot-tall Ruby Dragonborn as he made his way to the Ranger. A forked tongue flicked out for the briefest of moments.\n\nThen he reached her at last, and with it, stood behind her about four paces - enough to avoid being in range of her weapons, but enough to strike should he be needed. A growling punctuated his rumbling, vulcanean tone - like that of a volcano building the strength to erupt from the very ground and drown the world in hellfire and ash. Indeed, Kunshokh found other members of the tavern Burning A hole in his frame with their eyes, but he didn't care - let their foolish words bounce off of mighty scales like they were chaff before the Sword of Anthron. He was never to be a slave again; Kunshokh Never Desired to return to the life of fear and misery that gripped him once so terribly as a young hatchling.\n\nThen at last, his words came forth, gruff and volcanic, simmering with barely-contained annoyance, though no true anger - not yet at least. For now, the Dragonborn ensured he kept his cool - he knew what would happen if he lost it, and the likelihood of fighting his way out of this town, while possible, was slim and disfavorable to his deeds and progress toward becoming a champion of Anthron. After all, he was no unintelligible Fool Armed with a cudgel and bludgeoning everything in sight in a vain, self-centric effort to please Anthron - no, he was an intelligent being with a thinking mind.\n\n[C]: \"You. Do you desire to bring the guards' wrath upon thine head?\"\n\nIt wasn't a question so much as a pointed statement.\n\n_ _\n\nFor after all, Kunshokh knew she was not exactly coming across, at least to him, as a capable and competent individual to say the least...\n\n[C]: \"Avoid doing such in the future. Or you will likely wind up in a worst fate then being merely referred to as a Demon woman.\"\n\nHarsh words finished themselves with a slight grunt of notation at his own meaning, before Kunshokh prepared to turn and move back to his booth. Assuming there was nothing else to say, of course..." }, { "author": "kyutefluffboi", "message": "The woman sat silently as she lazily closed one eye and kept one barely open. Dressing out in this kind of place was really strange, though her patrol led her to this place. And to say the least, she doesn't carry any extra clothing to make it less obvious that she's a foreigner. She was already thinking of leaving this place immediately after a hefty meal, with what she did to those three men, surely they'll take revenge. Either by more of them or by guardsmen. A bothersome thought deal with.\n\n\"*Hmm?\" The ranger could hear it. The heavy rumbling footsteps of something fierce, creaking the wooden floor with each step of their foot. Felt a presence that was rather intense for any ordinary individual here around the tavern, and perhaps something much fiercer as well. Then and there, he spoke with such grit and gruffness. His annoyance was a clear indicator that what she had done certainly made a mark on him. \n\nShe listened his sermons closely with full attention. It was as if she was being scolded by her captain, though the thought made her a bit happy about it. After all, she is a little forgetful. Her temper always letting loose unless she wears the regal attire that aspires what a model warrior is. Flying the colors of Thyseer with grace and dignity, but amidst those militaristic discipline, she is still herself. Nothing changed other than work ethics and professionalism. And certainly, she isn't working as a soldier at the moment.\n\nAt the end of his session, the woman only grew a soft smile on her lips with her eyes slowly opening with interest. Her legs began to move on top of each other with each passing moment, thinking of what she will do next now that the Dragonborn had returned to his booth. \"Hmm~\" With a sultry hum, she would stand up from her place and slowly made her way to Kunshokh. Unlike the paladin's heavy footsteps, hers didn't even utter a single sound or a single creak of wood across the floorboard, as if she was as light as a feather.\n\n-\nHer presence wasn't that much open either. Khoshukh took all the attention after all, and that was enough to conceal herself even in plain sight. Even if her green colors were obvious, the attention of the audience lies elsewhere. Nearing him, she would sit at the opposite end of the booth. Right in front of him, Rosera had taken her seat. The only thing visible on her face was her soft lips and beautiful hair. The once golden strands of hair turned dirty blonde as they have been taken away from the rays of the sun. \n\nHer smile still present even in the presence of such a large individual, yet the woman doesn't seem to be scared in the slightest. \"Thank you for the scolding, I tend to forget about my temper. Hopefully you don't mind me taking a seat here. If you don't want to, just say the word.\" \n\n\"By the way, the name Rosera. Rosera Silvermoore. May I ask of your name, Sir Dragonborn?*\"" } ]	654	2,194
1,436.666667	2023-05-07	GuildTextChat	[ { "author": "Deyanira Caizerios", "message": "Deyanira had an odd relationship with Shame. Or rather, a Lack Of a relationship with shame. Fierce transparency weaved within her soul, making her produce the dazzling flames of her versions of 'truth', and whether those fires devoured her being or not mattered little. Self-Authenticity was Deyanira's most prized virtue, as for so long had she existed without it. Her father had made Certain Of that. Every day, it seemed, his voice would slip into the darker parts of her consciousness and pridefully entertain the painful mementos of the past, sometimes as effortlessly as twisting her present reality into a reminder of his haunted impact. Each time Deyanira heard a whisper of her father's \"𝘋𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘢𝘨𝘢𝘪𝘯 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘐'𝘭𝘭 𝘬𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘮𝘺𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘧,\" Or his \"𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘴𝘵𝘶𝘱𝘪𝘥 𝘸𝘰𝘮𝘢𝘯! 𝘞𝘩𝘺 𝘤𝘢𝘯'𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘥𝘰 𝘢𝘯𝘺𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵?\", malevolence would Burn Within her chest and propel her motivation into Proving him wrong. So, if there was any 'true truth' to Deyanira's authenticity, it was this— the broken girl from the Kandagulu Jungle survived because of the extreme spite she held for her father, no more or less. Even within this moment, the mixed Elf could sense the echoes of her father in the throes of pure mockery over the mess of her entrance. And to that, she thought, So what? Deyanira wasn't the type to devise plans ahead anyway. She came with the strength she had prepared, and then dealt with everything else in order it came. An adaptable and determined woman, Deyanira performed best under pressure and often enough when her life depended on it too. Her connection to Zutaal was ominous in this way, luring the wrathful woman to the edge of death to unlock the most valuable wisdom. But, regardless of Zutaal or her father's ability to influence actions, Deyanira Was the one at the helm. If this decision to intimidate the bar maiden panned out poorly, she would have nobody but herself to blame...\n\n➳\nSpeaking of the bar maiden, Deyanira had begun cultivating a sense of paranoia about the woman's actions after her departure. This is taking a while, The Elf noted mentally as she shuffled quietly to the door that led to the back of the Emerald Viper, Was she lying to me? While Deyanira did not fully lean against the door and listen in, she moved close enough to concentrate correctly on the noise on the other side. At first... Silence. It was as if nobody was there, and that observation Terrified The criminal, evident in how an anxious frown twitched upon her lips. But then...! A voice! It was clear the voice did not belong to the bar maiden, rather it seemed to be a man or at least someone with an incredibly deep voice. With the bar already closed and notably lacking security in the front, Deyanira thought it safe to assume the voice to be Senjro's. She was nearly prepared to step back and greet the man in traditional Deyanira fashion when she suspected the door to peel open, yet that all altered in a blink of an eye. A sudden series of clattering commotion and panicked shouts flooded faintly through the shut door, followed by a very clear \"You can't leave me here with her!\". The Elf's gaze widened in complete alarm and without a second thought, she seized the door handle to reveal the scene.\n\n➳\nAt first, Deyanira noticed the bar maiden; after all, the woman shrieked so deafeningly that it was difficult not to see her immediately. By the time the door was completely swung open, the bar maiden had outstretched a single finger that pointed out an open. There, Deyanira finally spotted Senjro. That loser is trying to get away! She thought while her gaze narrowed down upon the particular purple and yellow patterned cloak the man wore, And he is fucking wearing the heirloom! Without another glance to the bar maiden or even room for a second thought, Deyanira vaulted through the window and dashed right after Senjro. For now, the man was easy to spot with such a noticeable garment of clothing, particularly the one Abaran had described in tedious detail; however, once he reached the main crowds of the Bazaar then, things would become difficult. Perhaps not a thief but Definitely A huntress, Deyanira actually knew a thing or two about tracking prey. 17 years in the Kandagulu jungles did teach her something after all. The woman made chase, at least at first, allowing Senjro to gain comfort in the fact that he Knew His chaser was directly behind him. Of course, Deyanira was confident in her ability to outrun the man; however, she desired a faster route and one with an element of surprise. She waited for a moment that Senjro was occupied with what was in front of him, and when the man finally turned his head away from her, the mixed Elf ducked and rolled into a small alleyway, completely out of his sight. She wasted no time scaling the wall and reaching the rooftops, using the higher ground to gain the advantage on Senjro. Her sharp eyes did short work of discovering Senjro zooming through the Bazaar again; after all, the man hadn't managed to swap directions while running when she arrived on the rooftops. \n\nThrough leaps and dashes across the roofs of the Bizarre Bazaar, Deyanira gradually began to gain upon her target..." }, { "author": "Vikra, Guildmaster of Thieves", "message": "Once again the kobold found herself idly digging dirt out of her claws as silence filled her air once more. This didn't look good for the woman she had been tailing. Whoever she wished to see, this Senjiro person, obviously was in no hurry to see her. Eyeing the woman, Vikra took note of her clear irritation with the situation. While the thief had yet to see the woman's face, Vikra was almost certain her expression was a sour one. Then, commotion. The kobold's eyes widened slightly, but even the words through the door were enough to tell Vikra what was going on. Her target was fleeing the scene in a hurry. Just as the woman moved, so too did Vikra, slinking under table after table until she was along the wall of the door the woman had ran through. Peering into it, Vikra took note of the barmaid. There'd be no following the woman and her target without the maid seeing her.\n\nAh well.\n\nThe moment the woman began running after the man, Vikra did as well. While she was less interested in Senjiro, she was more intrigued by why this woman was chasing him. It was obvious he had or knew something that she wanted. The only question is what that thing was. Perhaps he failed to pay her money on time or stole something that belonged to her. Before the sun rose this day, Vikra would find out. Dipping, weaving and dodging through the crowd with a skill unmatched by the two she followed, the kobold was surprised to see the woman take an alternate path. Dipping into the alleyway with her, Vikra was delighted to see the woman scaling a wall instead of continuing on the obviously worse path on the ground. Following suit, Vikra was right on her tail, but as silent as a whisper in doing so.\n\n_ _\nIt was clear that she now had the upper hand over Senjiro, one that would very likely result in her catching him. Vikra was happily surprised by this turn of events. Perhaps this woman could prove a worthy initiate after all. Jumping across the rooftops, Vikra now began to picture and wonder how she'd descend upon Senjiro. Jumping down onto him could prove to be dangerous, especially if her agility was lacking. Spraining a muscle or breaking a bone was a nightmare for a quick-footed thief. She'd have to be sure before doing such a thing. Another option was getting ahead of him, which was what Vikra hoped the woman would do before descending to the ground. This was quite a chase it seemed, but that meant eyes everywhere were on the commotion.\n\nGuards would surely be alerted by this. If she was a thief attempting to steal something, this was still sloppy, even if her choice to climb to the rooftops did impress Vikra." }, { "author": "Deyanira Caizerios", "message": "\"Hey, you there!\" \n\nSenjro halted cold in his tracks. A pair of guards stood up ahead, only about 10 feet away. While they hadn't witnessed the initial reason for the man to be in such a hurry, they did catch the suspicious sight of a panicked Senjro booking it through the Bazaar; and that ruckus alone was enough cause for investigation. From above, Deyanira crouched into cover and observed the scene with great unease; Dammit, I shouldn't have allowed him to get away from the bar in the first place! Now he has to cause all this drama... She huffed in frustration and awaited the situation's outcome in silent fury. A clear scowl of contempt burned deep in the faces of the guards as they approached the heavily panting man. Neither of them appeared the type to tolerate the midnight market shenanigans, and Senjro appeared well aware of this, attempting to stutter out a word before they could...\n\n\"G-Guards! Oh, my Gods, Guards! Thank goodness, you'll never believe—\"\n\n\"That's enough out of you!\" The first guard interrupted, his voice gruff and coarse, \"Why don't you start by telling me exactly why you're running in such a panic? Don't you see the damn commotion you've caused?\" He gestured back down the path that Senjro had arrived from, where several individuals looked upon the man in bewilderment. \n\n\"No, no! You have it all wrong, you fool-\" Senjro cut himself off with the most sheepishly sincere smile he could muster and let out a nervous chuckle, \"I mean! I-I was only late, that's right! Late! A meeting-\"\n\n➳\n\"At this time of night?\" The second guard chimed in, crossing his arms with a look of doubt. \n\n\"Look, I know you Fine Guards have much more to worry about than My Nightly activities. I'll make sure to keep to walking Only From now on, and you two can continue your night without any more unnecessary problems. What do you say?\" Senjro proposed with another anxious series of laughs, which did little to disguise the sweat that built upon his brow as the guards further interrogated him. Deyanira narrowed her eyes in anticipation herself, regrettably hoping that Senjro could muster the persuasion to slip away from the guards; otherwise, her target would likely end up in a place she could not reach without serious backup, and the Eld had No Desire for a prison break all over a damned heirloom cloak... \n\n\"Alright, alright!\" The first guard finally answered, \"You're a waste of my time anyway. Just don't let us catch you doing foolish things around here again, we've got enough of that already...\" \n\n\"You can say that again,\" The second guard added, and then snapped at Senjro, \"Get lost already, old man.\"\n\n➳\nSenjro and Deyanira released a deep sigh of relief at nearly the exact moment. That could've gone a lot worse... The Elf woman thought in dismay, already making up her mind to never take a job like this; after all, she was humble enough to admit how horribly this was going, and it wasn't even over yet! Despite her strong will to be destructive and independent in her choices, Deyanira had to bite her tongue for an even stronger will to be Patient. Therefore, as Senjro scampered off at Walking Speed, Deyanira gradually followed behind while she formulated her next move. For the time being, Senjro would be unable to run without alerting more attention, and it was clear that when given a chance to inform the guards of a thief on his tail, he would Not. The Elf woman recalled that Abaran had detailed Senjro's rather scandalous history as a criminal, one that had trouble with the law too. Therefore, Deya could only assume Senjro wanted to avoid the attention of the guards at risk of exposing his own nefarious reputation. While that eliminated the danger of a tattle-tale target, it didn't lower the chances of guards Still Being alerted to a potentially large commotion. However, she wasn't at a complete loss yet. This huntress did have some tricks up her sleeve, after all...\n\n➳\nWith Senjro stuck at a slow speed through the Bizarre Bazaar, Deyanira easily made her way in front of the man; leaping, rolling, and ducking to about three rooftops ahead of him. At first, Senjro remained vigilant of where the guards stood stationed and turned in the opposite direction of them. Occasionally, he checked behind himself in search of Deyanira, presumably. Yet, she would not be as arrogant as she was the first time to approach the shrewd coward head-on. It will be a surprise for this asshole! She thought as she maintained her distance ahead of the man. Eventually, Senjro started to reach the outskirts of the marketplace, where the crowds and vendors died down, and where the edges of the shadowy desert greeted civilization. It seemed he planned to exit somewhere outside of Alazaan. Regardless in this empty market area of the Bazaar, there hadn't appeared to be another soul aside from the usual sketchy characters. Deyanira had hoped for such, though she still wondered where the man planned to escape after reaching outside the market; Nothing but sand, it seems? Regardless, she swallowed that concern away and presumed with her plan, he wouldn't reach far outside of the Bazaar anyway. Still at least three buildings ahead of Senrjo, Deyanira used the extra time to carefully descend from the rooftops and return into the darkness of the alleyways. This time, she was planted in an alleyway where the outside of the Bazaar was only a couple of feet away. From back down the street, she could hear Senrjo chuckling to himself as he relished the apparent victory of his escape, mumbling something along the lines of \"That woman will never get me now...\" Deyanira suppressed the urge to scoff aloud but didn't stop herself from expressing a raised eyebrow of pure sass. Quickly she stretched herself against the wall closest to Senrjo and then concentrated on the sound of his boots in the sand; each foot softly producing a ₜₕᵤₘₚ ₜₕᵤₘₚ ₜₕᵤₘₚ ₜₕᵤₘₚ...\n\n➳\nJust as Senjro nearly passed by Deyanira, the woman leaped out and seized the back collar of his shirt with one vicious tug while the other hand pressed a dagger to his throat, then dragged him back into the alley with her. For an extra incentive not to scream aloud right away, the mixed Elf pushed her dagger hard enough back on his throat for blood to trickle down.\n\n\"Don't move. Don't scream. Let's get this shit over with already, for fuck's sake...\" Deyanira spoke through gritted teeth to keep a low tone, \"It's not nice to steal from your family, y'know? So why don't you give me that fancy cloak you're wearing, and we can settle this quickly?\"\n\n\"No!\" Senjro cried out loudly, and Deyanira quickly kicked him in the back of the knee harshly as a reminder, \"I-I'm sorry!\" He resumed, this time in a whisper voice, \"But, I can't give you this. Abaran is Hardly Family. Only a distant cousin! This is My Family's cloak, I just can't give it up. Abaran is better off without it, lousy jerk! Come on, don't you believe me?\"\n\n\"No, I don't believe someone as fucking sketchy as you!\" Deyanira hissed into his ear, \"Unlike those guards, I ain't buying your excuse. So here's what's going to happen. I let you go. You take off the cloak and hand it over. Ta fucking da. You get to leave alive. Deal? OH! And if you wanna do another round of chase in the Bazaar, I'll obliterate you into ashes as soon as you take off. I'll set your whole damn bar into blazes too. Got it?\"\n\n➳\nSenjro rapidly nodded his head in agreement, \"Deal! Got it!\" \n\nDeyanira released the Sun Elf from her hold and shoved him into the wall across. He collided with the brick wall before he could stop himself, which allowed the Warlock time to show off a trick of intimidation for more Motivation To follow her directions. It was a simple spell that couldn't even be used for much of an attack anyway, but the appearance of danger was all she needed. \n \nᴘʀᴏᴅᴜᴄᴇ ꜰʟᴀᴍᴇ!\n\nBy the time Senjro turned around and finished rubbing his head in pain, the flame held within Deyanira's hand was all the motivation he required to remove the cloak and drop it to his feet. Before he could acquire any bright ideas of burning the item, the woman crushed her hand tight, and the flame disappeared. Surprisingly, Senjro did not cower and take off after the ordeal had been completed. Deyanira certainly expected him to bolt off into his next hiding spot. But, instead, he stared deeply into the face of the other Elf. Not one to be intimidated by eye contact, the Warlock greeted his stare with brazen hostility and prepared for a battle if need be. A moment of silence passed until he finally spoke.\n\n➳\n\"I Won't Forget your face, woman.\" Then, Senrjo left. Deyanira, at last, huffed out her scoff in return and clutched the cloak up from the ground, inspecting the clothing for any blood or other stains. Despite a bit of dust, she deemed the heirloom in decent condition for Abaran. Whatever, not like he asked for it to be all shiny and clean anyway... She thought while folding the garment together. Deyanira hadn't any time to stop and beautify the cloak anyway; after all, Senjro still lurked around, and he definitely had threatened her back there. Additionally, while the two had that earlier encounter in a more desolate location of the Bazaar, there was always a risk of unwanted attention. Therefore, Deyanira had to move from this location as swiftly as possible and preferably leave Alazaad altogether, By tonight. With a sigh, the woman knew she still had plenty more work to complete a successful mission. So, she tucked the folded cloak into her backpack and made her way to the convenient nearby exit of the Bazaar; the original direction that Senjro had planned for his own retreat. It appeared he decided to return back into the life of the Bazaar himself, abandoning whatever goals he had located beyond into the sands." } ]	1,375	4,310
274.666667	2024-04-24	GuildTextChat	[ { "author": "Oryra Felanna", "message": "Oryra would glare back at his darken expression, her stubbornness and a bit of her will to live no matter what showing. That was one thing that though she's been betrayed time and again she didn't let it hold her down. And given the chance she would probably let them all burn as she struck the match. She was never one to kill before but she was more willing with some now, the sisterhood and Baldwin being ones she wanted to see burn now.\n\nHer tail would swish as she gave a glare at Reheem before giving a sly smirk \"Oh come now, they deserved every bruise they got. You least have to be gentle with a lady and they had no respect for me being one\" She would say this sarcastically as she would put one of her covered hands against her heart like she was trying to be genuine. \"It's also not my fault they couldn't see the attack coming from me. That's just being a bad guard if you ask me\"\n\nOryra couldn't help but scoff at being said to be the healthiest one. She was hardly healthy she just had more of a sass and stubbornness that kept her standing even when she was on a last leg. She learned at least that much from the sisterhood, never show a weakness to a potential enemy.\n\n\"If that's the way you want to do it, than all you get is a name from me. That is as much curtisy you will get from me.\" She would growl a little at Baldwin's name as she really had a score to settle with him someday. \"Yes, he stabbed me. No, I have seen no healer. He forced something from a veil into my mouth that made my would knit together painfully and than I woke up here.\"" }, { "author": "Sayf Al-Faheem", "message": "He continued to not pay much attention to her sarcasm. He took note of her responses, but knew better than to feed into her spite. It was nothing unusual, especially among recent captures, and he understood the reasons for it. Unfortunately for her, she didn't really have a say in the situation.\n\n\"Hmm. Probably would be best to get that injury checked out, just to make sure it healed properly. I don't know what he uses in his potions, and I don't trust his medical work.\" He spoke pragmatically. His concern was moreso protecting his investment rather than any care for her as an individual. Desert life was hard, and he needed someone strong enough to handle it. Lingering injuries would only make things harder.\n\n\"One last question. Do you have any particular skills, or a trade you practice?\" He asked. He had made up his mind by now, and was moreso concerned with price negotiations. If she was skilled she'd be worth more, and as such he'd be willing to pay Raheem more. As much as they got along, he drove a hard bargain, and Sayf was in no mood to be swindled." }, { "author": "Oryra Felanna", "message": "Oryra didn't like the like the best but the slaver was more annoying, he seemed to have some types of ideas to make her not hurt this stranger if he decided to buy her. Though that was just something she would need to deal with later.\n\n\"Not much to check, but that is on the outside. I couldn't tell you how the injuries would be inside... I wouldn't trust anything he gave either.\" She would look down at her abdomen, it didn't hurt but she didn't know if that was because of the thing the sisterhood gave her for pain and such back when she first joined or if nothing was wrong.\n\n\"Needlework, I do needlework.\" She didn't plan to say that she could do the things she could with a needle, if he knew he'd probably just put more restrictions on her and she didn't want that. Was going to be annoying if he used something anyways to keep her from harming him. \"Made these clothes before they became worn from the desert and ocean conditions for some months.\"" } ]	243	824
353.75	2024-04-25	GuildTextChat	[ { "author": "Sayf Al-Faheem", "message": "\"Better safe than sorry.\" He nodded as she spoke. He knew a few healers who could make sure there were no internal injuries. He himself was no healer, and while he could do first aid, any long-lasting healing was far beyond him, and if that injury flared up out in the desert, there was little that could be done.\n\nHe did, however, seem to be more interested in her needlework. While he had absolutely no clue of the danger she could pose, he knew the value of a good Seamstress in repairing clothing, especially in the desert where it was the only thing between you and the sun and sands. Combine that with the tents he and his fellows lived out of also being fabric; someone who could properly repair clothing would be a valuable asset.\n\n\"Needlework? Interesting. So I take it you're a seamstress?\"\n\nHe turned to Raheem, pulling out his well concealed coin purse, before checking the weight to get a rough idea of what he had left.\n\n\"I think I'll go ahead and buy her. How much is your price for her?\"\n\nRaheem thought about it for a few seconds before responding.\n\n\"You know, for you I'll give you a deal, how about 150 gold coins?\"\n\n\"You drive a hard bargain.\" He sighed. \"I'll take it though. I do expect you to show consideration in our next business deals later on.\" He poured his coins out on a nearby table, counting out the change before Raheem handed him a key, presumably to Oryra's chains. That done, he turned to Oryra. \n\n\"Alright, get a move on. We're leaving at nightfall.\"" }, { "author": "Oryra Felanna", "message": "Oryra shrugged as it was probably a good thing to get her checked out just in case but it didn't mean that she was happy with it either. It all just made her annoyed in the end.\n\nShe would tilt her head as she thought about if she wanted to answer or not. \"I don't work for anyone so I wouldn't say I'm a seamstress. I just have worked with needlework was all. Never had a chance to work anyone so I can't say I actually am a seamstress.\"\n\nSo he was going to buy her, she didn't know if she wanted to be around this person or not but for now she supposed she could behave a little. The price was crazy to her as she could have done a lot more with that amount. Especially over just buying one person.\n\nShe's glare at the key as she wanted to just grab it and run, though she couldn't do that yet. She be annoyed at being told what to do but would step forward. Best to learn and be obedient till she could strike. \"I'm not leaving till he gives me back my little loom. I won't leave without it, I got that from my grandmother and it's been important to me.\"" }, { "author": "Sayf Al-Faheem", "message": "He looked at Raheem, his annoyance with Oryra beginning to show. He thought of himself as a fairly reasonable fellow, even to his slaves, but his patience had it's limit. Ready to get things over with, he asked Raheem to grab the loom. Raheem, after holding it up for Oryra to confirm it was the same item she was talking about, handed it to Sayf, who put it in his coinpurse.\n\n\"Correction. You haven't worked for anyone Yet. As of now you will do what I say, whether or not you want to or not. I'll return the loom once we're out of town, but for now I will hold on to it to keep it away from pickpockets.\" It wasn't only for that reason he was holding onto it, as he was doing it partly out of spite, but he had no desire to argue, either now or later on when a pickpocket had snatched it and she would want it back. He was being honest though. He would give it back.\n\n\"Now, let's get you to a healer. Stay close, and don't try anything funny.\" He said, leading her out into the street. He thought he had seen a local healer not to far down the road. He would have prefered being able to wait until he was out of the town and back at camp, but that was to much of a risk. He knew how violent Baldwin could be, and he wouldn't put it past him to have simply given her painkillers and left any injury to fester. That being said, Sayf tried not to be overly rude, and while he tolerated no disrespect, he was true to his word. As he was leading her through an empty section of street, he turned to her for a bit, and said:\n\n\"Now that we are away from unfriendly ears, my name is Sayf, although for the moment at least you are to call me sir. I waited to tell you since I am not on friendly terms with the thieve's guild at the moment, and if they knew I was here I would be a dead man.\"" }, { "author": "Oryra Felanna", "message": "Oryra was not happy that he would keep her loom but stayed quiet about it, only giving a slight glare as she crossed her arms. It wasn't easy for her to keep her mouth shut always but it would for the moment. She really wanted to just take it back.\n\nThough she was happy she did halfway get it, had the slaver not just given it back she probably would have gone trying to get it back. That really was her prized possession through the years. \"I have worked for others, just not for that type of work... Don't hold your breath that I'm going to just do what you want.\" She didn't want to be complient but it was whatever. She would just have to stay quiet and listen for the moment.\n\n\"I can't promise anything, but I will try not to get lost... For now\" She would look around as they finally got out, it was nice being out of that place. She didn't like it and she probably would have attack a guard again soon had he not decided on taking her. She didn't trust him but he had kind of helped.\n\nShe would raise a brow at his words, seemed he didn't really trust others much either. Most of the people here didn't either though so it was alright, made it easier for her to keep her walls up. \"Guess you have a lot of people who don't like you. Though good luck with me just calling you sir, I'm not your just typical slave.\" She had it rough but she'd also done a lot of bad herself, that's why she had a horn taken. Not some nice tiefling, she had to have done something pretty bad to lose the amount of horn she did. But she didn't care to reveal what it was." } ]	357.5	1,415
416	2024-04-29	GuildTextChat	[ { "author": "Oryra Felanna", "message": "Oryra didn't like talking about the past but she supposed he deserved to know some of it. It just was hard for her to think about them because she'd thought she was a good girl, she'd never caused a fit or anything but it didn't seem to matter in the end. Her tail swishing at the end as she tried to keep her head clear enough.\n\n\"My father took me to a town far from my home, said was for a festival... It was busy, I was holding his hand and than I remember feeling him let go of my hand. Never saw him again and I waited for days. Lived on the streets after that.\" She would stop for a second as she thought about them, could she even find them? \"I can't tell you much about them, I was abandoned at the age of 5. I don't even remember which town I lived in, just the one I grew up in on the streets.\"\n\nShe would look up at him before starting to follow him again, didn't want to have him get irritated to her too much for stopping. She didn't know what to say, was it right to answer them on what she tried to streal?\n\n\"Well... I tried to steal a nobles seal and some jewels that they had. I had them... I just didn't knock him out long enough so he raised the alarm.\" She wouldn't have to worry about food? She didn't know the last time she'd not had to worry about food in over the last two years, sure she had food but it was only after she'd done a job. She knew it now was not the right way to live but she had been blinded by trusting someone else.\n\n\"They could still speak... Just couldn't run after me, it was only a nerve block. They just made it a bigger deal than was needed... Just because it was a better deal didn't mean I liked this outcome. It just was them still over reacting because they could completely move after a few hours. All they had was a few bruises to show for any type of attack on them.\" She didn't like that they still said she did that but she didn't care about them. They were far away from her now so she wouldn't see them again anyways." }, { "author": "Sayf Al-Faheem", "message": "He sighed slightly as he heard she didn't know where her parents were. He was hoping to both make a quick bit of cash and allow this temperamental woman a chance to vent on a more productive target. But alas, it wasn't to be, although he wasn't surprised much either, considering the timespans involved. He decided that there wouldn't be much to gain from pressing further into the issue.\n\n\"A noble's seal?\" He chuckled a bit, seemed she wasn't as innocent as she liked to make herself out to be. \"Well that alone would get your horn cut if caught. If I were to be convicted such a thing I might get branded a thief, not fun at all. But you seem to have some skills at burglary then? You are not a simple seamstress, not at all.\"\n\nHe contemplated all he had learned so far. This slave, which merely a half hour ago he had thought was a simple, if resistant, slave had turned out to be a hardened criminal who had lived on the streets longer than he did, and had no qualms about injuring or even killing people. She could prove to be quite a valuable asset, but she was also clearly quite dangerous. Until she could prove he could trust her not to attempt to murder her, he'd have to make sure she was supervised at all times, and when she couldn't be supervised, she'd have to be restrained or confined somewhat. Enough to keep her from sneaking about at night.\n\n\"Before you keep saying they were overreacting, think about it from their perspective. The guards were probably just trying to do their job. They probably deal with Thieves on a fairly regular basis, but getting attacked and then Losing their ability to move Would be quite traumatic. You probably would've been better off just knocking them out as well. Easier to convince the judge you weren't trying to murder them in that case I'd say. How did you get caught in the end? Did more guards show up?\"" }, { "author": "Oryra Felanna", "message": "\"Well I didn't get a cho...\" Oryra would shut her mouth as she'd was getting too close to crossing a line. Just because the sisterhood abandoned her didn't mean she could say she was one. If she did she knew most would use that to try and get in or the sisterhood would be after her to silence any secrets. Not like she knew any, she just was sent out to steal things all the time since she'd been in it.\n\n\"Yes, well usually I don't get caught. A thief I have been so I don't care being called one. You live on the streets you do whatever to survive even if it's not the best choice... At the time they seem like they are to a child.\" She would just shake her head as she looks back at how she was just used by them, more than she really wanted to admit.\n\n\"I never said I was a simple seamstress, I was honest that I was no seamstress. I said I work with needle work... But yes, I done burglaries so I know what I'm doing. That seal should have been mine, would have got a lot of cash from that.\" \n\nShe still didn't believe the same for the guards, she'd knocked most out but was not able to get that close when she'd paralyzed the ones before getting caught. \"I know they were doing their job, I only did what I did because I was trying to get away... I know exactly how that feels anything I done to another I done to myself so I knew where to make it not hurt. Only thing I haven't done is one to kill myself. And I did knock out a lot of them... There just was a lot more than I could just knock out... Yeah more showed up and I couldn't get away.\"" } ]	411	1,248
302.666667	2024-05-13	GuildTextChat	[ { "author": "Vill Itrius Hondo", "message": "Vill rolled the question through his head as he determined what was appropriate to say. In truth, he came to Sayf because he saw the opportunity for many things; vengeance, power, riches... Chaos. But only one of those was a good answer to tell a seemingly righteous man such as Sayf. And so he did. \n\n \"I have a score to settle with a few people,\" Vill told the man and gestured to his bad leg with the cane. \"A bone to pick as one might say. I have heard tales of you, through covert means, and you seem to share my interests, to a degree so far at least. Siding with you will give me an advantage against those who wronged me while biting back at the guild for its corruption. It's not some noble cause that will be written stories, but I didn't come to have stories told of me.\" \n\n I came to see how I could end the stories of the fools who thought themselves better than me.\n\n Vill looked down the alley to where he expected to see the slave. A part of him pitied her because he understood the depravity that came from being owned by another. Someone had thought him slave worthy, unfortunately they had not anticipated the magic he wielded in his hands. For what he showed on the surface, though devilish, was nothing close to his true nature.\n\n Maybe he could use the slave to his advantage one day. \n\n \"I see. Well, if it is to ensure an uninterrupted trip then I cannot complain.\" He adjusted his standing and leaned against the wall. \"Still, one thing I learned from the guild, is that the walls tend to be more aware than you think. I suggest we move eventually, otherwise your desire to not be noticed will be but a distant memory.\"" }, { "author": "Oryra Felanna", "message": "Oryra would take a bit longer than planned but would eventually walk back over to now two. She would frown as she looked at the newcomers but said nothing about it. It wasn't her place to say anything though seeing anything tiefling made her a bit uneasy. Any of her race just made her feel that way because of her parents though, she just felt she couldn't trust them.\n\nWalking over to Sayf before stopping close to him. \"The healer says I'm fine now, a few fixes but nothing they saw that was life threatening for injuries. I'm guessing now we will be traveling to the new place I get to call home?\" She would look over at Vill before looking back at Sayf \"Is he coming with? Can you even trust him?\"\n\nOryra was not wanting to travel with two more because it gave her a less chance to escape but not like she would say that. No, in steas she was just going see if the half tiefling could even be trusted. She doubted she'd be getting any help if she even asked. It was all just irritating as she was wanting to get out of here and away. \"So, how long of a move do we even have? Since I'm guessing we are going out into the desert?\"" }, { "author": "Sayf Al-Faheem", "message": "Saif raised an eyebrow as Vill mentioned the guild. He was instantly concerned, the last thing he needed was a guild assassin following him back to camp. But his comrade had vouched for Vill, and the fact he mentioned it so casually did speak of his lack of immidiate ill intent. He decided to give him a bit of a chance, although if he did find out he was Thieves guild he'd knock him cold in a heartbeat.\n\n\"This guild you speak of, it isn't the Theives Guild is it? Don't tell me you're a member of the guild. If so there will be some issues.\"\n\nBefore he could get an answer, he turned to see Oryra returning. He was glad she hadn't taken to long, and he hoped her sarcasm would have settled down for the moment. \n\n\"Very well.\" He said before handing some coins to the healer. \"We'll see sooner or later if we can trust him.\" He said to Oryrya before turning back to Vill. \"You are correct about the walls. Any further conversation best be done on the move. The camp is 3 hours out in the desert, although I will not tell the specific route yet. There are a few others in town who will be joining us on the trip back. We can talk more once we leave town.\"" } ]	278	908
363.428571	2021-11-22	GuildTextChat	[ { "author": "Astalios, Iron Prince", "message": "The time had come for the beginning of some real work. It wasn't anything that made his heart pound like the thrill of battle, but it was work nonetheless - and necessary for the functioning of the kingdom. If such mistrust could be allowed to propagate, then it was likely that Alynthi would lose the respect of its people, and while their reputation was so far excellent, this had to be remedied before he could call it spotless.\n\nStriving towards perfection brought excellence. That was what the battlefield had taught him. Astalios paced the archive room, nose stuck in a ledger, as he and the clerks looked through the supply records of the nobility that had been recorded over the past three years. Each was a rather large folio of parchment, and Astalios thanked the gods that he had some experience writing papers in the Alchemist's Guild.\n\nThe information they had was scarce but useful - the name of the town was Heartford, and it had been desgtroyed approximately three years prior by troops. Troops meant supply chains - and every baron needed to deploy his troops with an uptick in nonperishable rations when they marched. An inconsistency would mean that while the army was reported not deployed, their food stores would suddenly increase and then decrease. Money always talked in the end.\n\nThat was the thing about such investigations - people didn't simply stay financially in the same situation. Perhaps the baron that had done this had gotten richer by a large amount, or perhaps they were suffering from a debt that was paid with money the baron did not seem to have..." }, { "author": "The Weaver of Stories", "message": "Of course, just like with any kingdom, smaller settlements were often looked over by a baron or duchy, mainly to ensure each corner of a kingdom is watched over and taken care of. Just like the larger duchy of Vedian, what was once the small tree-cutting village of Heartford was watched over by a considerably small and less financially important family known as the Agarvrans. The family itself has been around for generations, just about as long as the royal family had been in power. Given the family is made up of nothing but elves, it makes sense that they've been around for so long. There wasn't much information on the family in question, and there were many holes in the portfolio on them such as pages seemingly missing or torn out or just jumps in timelines on the Agarvarans whereabouts. \n\nAround four years ago, however, a member of the Agarvarans family was disowned and stripped of their title; the youngest son of the current heads of the family name, known as Dalyor Agarvaran. Though, given his status of no longer being apart of the family, he now simply goes by Dalyor. Currently, he resides Willowdale though the reasons for him being disowned have been blotched out in ink. Not much is known about the youngest son other than his current location. The Agarvarans never owed a significant amount of money to anyone in particular for anything it seemed, and there was definitely a lot of missing information on the family. Since the incident with Heartford, the family now only has one other settlement they watch over and take care of, a northwestern mining town known as Lerwick.\n\nThere were a handful of chroniclers within the archive, though they kept to themselves unless the prince directly asked for help from them." }, { "author": "Astalios, Iron Prince", "message": "Dalyor Agarvaran. That was the man he needed to speak to. Whether it was because he was the perpetrator of such a crime or because he was the only one to speak out, it was likely that this disowned son had his own secrets to reveal about the family. Furthermore...\n\nThe mining town of Lerwick. It was possible that the family had been taking the inhabitants of Heartford for slave labor in Lerwick, as many miners die every year...\n\n\"Excuse me.\" He lifted his head from his ledger and reached out for the nearest chronicler. \"What is your name? I need a small bit of assistance on the records of the town of Lerwick and the Agarvarans. I would like mortality statistics for the miners, and the productivity of the mine over the years, if you could bring those to me.\"" }, { "author": "The Weaver of Stories", "message": "A young satyr looked over as the prince brushed her arm to get her attention, causing her to jump in slight surprise. Tilting her head, she listened to the prince's questions before allowing herself a moment to think. \"Uh, Kidu Tratker. If you'll give me just a moment my lord I'm sure I can find exactly what you're looking for.\" Nodding toward Astalios, the satyr woman rushed off down one of the many rows of chronicles, books, files and scrolls before stopping at nearly the end of one. Brushing her fingers along the various shelves, she finally stopped with an accomplished smile and pulled out a few scrolls from shelf before making her way back to the prince.\n\n\"Lerwick Mining Company. It seems to have been funded by a different family up until.. Three years ago it would seem. The prior owners of the mine were a half-elf family known as the.. Glynfirs. It seems we actually have nothing on them after they sold the Lerwick Mining Company to the Agarvarans. As for the mortality statistics..? I have them all here in this scroll going back ten years, but if you need more that go back further I will happily get them for you, my lord.\" Kidu bowed her head and stood aside, allowing the prince to look over all she had brought him.\n\nThe scroll with the mortality statistics did in fact go back around ten years. From the start to around three years ago, the mortality rate seemed relatively normal for a mining company, perhaps considered average. When the Agarvarans took over the Lerwick Mining Company, mortality rates increased by nearly three or four times, but so did intake of new miners. Given that slavery is outlawed within the kingdom of Alynthi, one can only assume how the mining company has come across so many lives to throw away. Another thing to note is the town of Lerwick's proximity to the well known slaving nation of Dasvaz.." }, { "author": "Astalios, Iron Prince", "message": "\"Thank you, Miss Tratker.\" Astalios murmured as he looked up over the data. Slavery seemed to be in excess in these parts, and slavery was illegal. Another crime, another time... Perhaps the inhabitants of Heartford had been brought to the mine after all.\n\n\"Could you or another chronicler bring me all the information you have on the Glynfirs, their arguments or relations with the Agarvarans? Thank you very much.\" He wondered, really, how rotten this family was. There was much to indicate that they were not only slavers, but had possibly destroyed Heartford as well - or else were guilty of massive negligence. Records had been destroyed. That in itself was perjury, and could be punished by the highest judge in the land - which happened to be him, with the exception of his mother and father.\n\n\"All I need is to travel to this place unannounced, in secret. Gather information myself, or send spies to their court. I would rather do so in person...\" He thought out loud as he looked through the papers in front of him.\n\nIt was already probable cause. Already a crime against the royal family." }, { "author": "The Weaver of Stories", "message": "\"I'll get right on it, my lord.\" Kidu rushed off and grabbed another one of the chroniclers to help her search for more information on the Glynfirs and Agarvarans. The two were gone for quite some time, well over ten or so minutes looking for anything on either family. As Kidu and the other chronicler returned, the only had a few pieces of paper, further proof that someone within the castle or someone close to the Agarvarans didn't wish for anyone to have anything on what may or may not have happened. Stumbling back along with another chronicler, Kidu placed down all she and her companion could find on the desk where the prince sat. \"I'm sorry your majesty, but all I can find where a few things on the Agarvarans and even less on the Glynfirs.\" Bowing her head once more, Kidu stepped back and went back to her duties, though stayed nearby in case she was needed once more.\n\nInside of what Kidu brought over were only a handful of documents on either family. What was known for now was that the Agarvarans were an extremely old family of full-blooded elves. Not once in their history did they ever go outside of their own race, not even half-elves in any way or form. The current man and woman at the head of the family, Alen and Leena Agarvaran were still alive and well, along with their many, Many Children. However, one such that had been cast out, their youngest who the prince already knew to be Dalyor Agarvaran, had been removed from every will and testament that tied him to any of the families riches and belongings. Currently, the Agarvarans are staying in Lerwick where they can oversee mining operations.\n\nAs for the Glynfirs, there were countless statements from neighboring villages of the kindness and generosity of the half-elf family. Known for their donations to the more needy parts of Alynthi and even outside of the kingdom, the entire family seemingly perished in their manor near Heartford, seemingly due to a mishap with their fireplace. Their youngest daughter\n\nHowever, was missing at the time of the fire, and has been missing since. A signed and obviously copied document was in the pile of papers as well, stating the Agarvarans took over the Lerwick Mining Company not even three days after the Glynfirs perished with no heirs to take the business over.\n\nThe final and most notable document was the list of families that were found dead or filed as missing that previously lived in the now destroyed village of Heartford. There were many, many families ranging from elves to shapeshifters to orcs to even a single family of loxodon. The only family marked as missing however were known as the Olvenwoods, a half-elf family consisting of two sons, a mother and father. The eldest son went missing long before Heartford was destroyed, leaving only the single son Richard Olvenwood, mother Elizabeth Olvenwood, and father Henry Olvenwood. All other inhabitants of Heartford were either found dead, or survivors have since relocated to known parts of Alynthi. Which granted, there were only a handful of survivors who were lucky enough to not be home during the destruction of Heartford." }, { "author": "Astalios, Iron Prince", "message": "It was wonderful, the prince noted, what you could find with royal authority and a few pieces of paper. He began to scratch out his fndings on a piece of parchment, using the ink itself to form the quill. Iron gall ink was a favorite medium of Astalios's...\n\nFirstly, the likely suspects were the Agarvarans, whose labor supplies were nearly positively slaves from Dazvaz. Their son had to be investigated, as did the family themselves. One was likely an objector, and from the looks of things, Dalyor was the odd one out. The operations had not been exposed by the Agarvarans, so they either knew and lied or perpetrated it themselves. He resolved to travel himself to see Dalyor.\n\nSecondly, there was the matter of the Glynfirs. Their reputation was rather kind, and he had no reason to believe that they were undercover somewhere, but their lost daughter would be an excellent replacement ruler for the Agarvarans when they were executed for their crimes. He scratched out a note to do some research on her in particular.\n\nThirdly, the Olvenwoods. This was likely the family that he had met - an Olvenwood. Was it the older brother, long gone missing, that he had seen? Was it Richard? He bookmarked the family for further reference.\n\nFourthly, there was nothing but admirable conduct from his scribes.\n\n\"You have served me well, Miss Tratker.\" He inclined his head to her. \"I have one last request only - any available portrait of the Glynfirs' youngest daughter.\"" } ]	332	2,544
275.928571	2021-11-25	GuildTextChat	[ { "author": "The Weaver of Stories", "message": "Alongside the well known nobles of Alynthi were the distinguished and elegant Agarvarans. Entering through the main hall was Hagred and Solana Agarvaran along with their eldest daughter Bellaluna. The three elves made their way down the beautifully decorated hall before finally entering into the ballroom. Dressed probably even better than most of the attendees, Hagred and Solana set their eyes on the king and queen, making their greetings as elegant as they possibly could. It was strange, given that balls were usually held as some form of celebration, but the Agarvarans would never turn down and invitation to the castle. Too many business possibilities or deals to be made, how could they pass it up? Bowing and curtsying to the best of the their ability, the family then stepped to the side of the ballroom to watch the other attendees.\n\nSolana gestured to Bellaluna before pointing out the prince. One could only assume what she was saying and implying Bellaluna do with the prince, such as gaining his favor. Rolling her eyes slightly, Bellaluna soon made her way up the stairs to the prince's side, bowing as she did so. \"Good evening, your majesty. Thank you for inviting my family to such a beautiful ball.\" Standing up once more, Bellaluna stood beside the prince and looked out at her mother and father, a forced smile on her face. One could only wonder if Dalyor spoke the truth about his sister, or if she was as devious and conniving as Hagred and Solana." }, { "author": "Astalios, Iron Prince", "message": "So that was them. Three elves, all alike in dignity, and perhaps all hiding the same ugly heart beneath that veneer of beauty. It was difficult to tell at times what to do with people like that - whether they made decisions based on the well-being of their people, or out of their own selfish desire. However, the information he had made one of these possible outcomes very clear, and the other unlikely unless Dalyor was a lying lout, Richard was a con man... They had never met each other before, and they were unlikely to be in cahoots. He had seen tears - real tears - on the elf's face when he described losing his lady love. And now they were sending their daughter to him, to make friends. It was a strange state of affairs...\n\nHe regarded her with a sharp eye, bowing lightly and inclining his head to her for a moment before he returned his eyes to the dance floor. \"Well met, my lady. There is a certain announcement I wished to make, and so I had hoped that a ball was an appropriate occasion. How have you fared on your journey? The wayshrine was not malfunctioning in any way, I trust?\" He asked coolly. There was a pressure test that this woman had to go through in order to gain his confidence, but he did intend to keep speaking with her. Perhaps Dalyor's trust was well placed...\n\n\"And if you do not intend to carry on with what your parents have assigned to you, please feel free. I would rather we speak as honest people than as a lady of the court and a prince.\" His wary expression finally broke, introducing a tired smile to the conversation as he turned to face her." }, { "author": "The Weaver of Stories", "message": "\"I never could stand travel by wayshrine, but that's no fault of yours, my lord. Simply personal preference.\" Bellaluna stated respectfully, her eyes dancing around the various people on the ballroom floor. The prince's words about her parents however caught her off guard, but as he said them her shoulders relaxed quite a bit, almost as if she were holding a rather uncomfortable posture this entire time. Sighing and ensuring her parents eyes were not on her, she glanced over to the prince. \"Why speak so plainly then, my prince?\" Looking him up and down, there was a slight look of concern on the elven women's face. Noticing his expression as well only caused her to worry more. \"Have I- done something wrong?\" Bellaluna tilted her head a bit.\n\nRealizing she had yet to state who she was, she bowed her head in apology. \"My mistake, my lord. I never introduced myself. I am Bellaluna Agarvaran, daughter of Hagred and Solana Agarvaran. If I have offended you in any way by not properly greeting you, I am sincerely sorry, my lord.\" This is what she assumed she had done wrong, and there was almost a look of fear on her face, but one had to wonder; was it fear of the prince or of her family?" }, { "author": "Astalios, Iron Prince", "message": "\"You have done nothing wrong, Bellaluna. As a matter of fact, I am quite honored by your presence - and as such, I shall deign to provide some decent conversation if I can. You addressed me exactly as I am meant to be addressed.\" There was no way he could possibly tell her of the intricate veil being thrown over the ballroom for the moment - his announcement would provide legitimacy to the ball, and killing two birds with one stone was opportune. Astalios himself was nearing the age where he needed to seek a wife, and ensure the future of the kingdom was well taken care of. That announcement did indeed demand a ball. \n\nIt was, in a way, a wonderful ruse. The best lies contained half-truths.\n\n\"I speak plainly because people have something to gain from the favor of the Prince of Alynthi. I, on the other hand, would like to get to know the people I am to rule over in the coming years. My parents are right on that point - to know the court is to stay afloat in the world of ballrooms and politics. Therefore...\" \n\nHe thought for a moment, tapped his chin as he came up with a question. \"What is your favorite color? Why?\" It was wasting time, of course, but the establishment of his presence needed to be clear, and the Agarvarans needed a reason to remain at the ball, hanging on the word of royalty. He was going to give them that reason." }, { "author": "The Weaver of Stories", "message": "Relieved by the prince's words, Bellaluna offered an apologetic smile before looking back out at her parents. Listening to his words, she thought for a moment. \"Purple, I'd say. It's elegant but soft.\" Saying this, she ran a hand down her dress, which was a pastel purple of sorts. She ran her hand back up it and then rested it over the balcony once more before looking over to Astalios. \"What about you, my lord?\" \n\nBack on the ballroom floor, Solana and Hagred had separated from one another. Hagred Agarvaran could be seen speaking with a few noblemen, and Solana was on the otherside of the ballroom speaking with the king and queen. It was obvious they were attempting to make ties with the other important families present. One could only assume what lies or half-truths They Were spinning to gain favor with the other families. Solana then glanced over to her daughter, and her smile quickly became a bit stiffened, almost as if she were silently scolding Bellaluna. Stiffening up, the young elf stood straight once more, just like she had when she first approached the prince. \"Forgive me for the formalities, your majesty. I'm sure you can relate to certain things and ways being expected of you by parents.\"" }, { "author": "Astalios, Iron Prince", "message": "\"Of course. Regal bearing is expected of someone regal, and noble bearing is expected of someone noble.\" He nodded slowly back to her as he observed the cues from mother to daughter, her stiffening in response to the nonverbal warning given. Appearances and discipline seemed to be a major factor in the Agarvaran family mode of operation, but that was a given for any noble family. They were certainly making their rounds. Their day was coming, though, and he knew that soon, they would rue the day that they had cast out Dalyor, enslaved Viessa, and chosen to make his subjects suffer. It was as if family was being threatened - a notion that made his hackles raise.\n\n\"As for my favorite color, though... I don't know if it's dreadfully boring to say gray is my favorite color. It's the look of steel, of stormy skies and rain, of my warhorse.\" He listed off the reasons he liked it. \"It is a bit dreary at times, though, and from then on, I have trouble deciding between gold or silver or copper red or sulfur yellow or copper sulfate blue. Each pigment has its charms, each metal has its look to it.\" He wondered whether he would give her a silver stag at the end of the night, and the small purse at the belt of his doublet contained iron discs enough for his magic to work..." }, { "author": "The Weaver of Stories", "message": "Bellaluna suddenly began to giggle, and as her mother watched a nod of approval was soon seen. Solana then returned to her discussion with the king and queen, and Bellaluna then looked over to the prince before rolling her eyes in a tired way. \"Sorry. Expectations. Gray though is a beautiful color. It goes with practically anything, same for white or black. A close second of mine would probably be a dull blue, a lot like the sky after it rains.\" Bellaluna shrugged a bit. As one of the many waiters passing out drinks walked by, she stopped him politely and grabbed two wines before offering one to the prince. She herself only held hers rather than taking a sip just yet. \"If you don't mind me asking, my lord, what is the occasion of this ball, this get together of so many noble families?\" Bellaluna cast a curious eye the prince's way." }, { "author": "Astalios, Iron Prince", "message": "\"Please, no apologies. I understand.\" He nodded evenly at her words, trying to wrap his head around the colors for the moment. There was a small part of him that had never considered anyone would like gray as a color, but he supposed he could be wrong about many things. \"I suppose that Is A wonderful shade of blue, considering that it usually means one can continue a military campaign without interference from the weather. Mud is always an issue when cavalry needs to be moved and infantry has some sort of armor to carry. Heavy equipment trains also get bogged down...\"\n\nHe took one of the wine glasses, though he did not drink for the moment. He touched his glass to hers in salute. \"Well, I suspect that you shall all find out near the end of it. I have a small announcement to make. That is all. I intend to retire to my chambers for a few moments - perhaps an hour or two - during the middle of the ball - to prepare for the speech. When I re-emerge, the announcement will be ready, and I daresay that there will be quite a stir in the Alynthi court.\"\n\nHe knew that this was a game to play - the speech, playing into the big announcement, keeping the Agarvarans in check as he stole their files right out from under them. Before the ball, he had prepared to enter the mansion - the floor plans had been memorized with his spymaster, the plan painstakingly prepared. He had only about twenty minutes of actual searching to do - a passage between his quarters and the wayshrine would be risky. He needed to be seen in his room during his time recessing.\n\n\"I have never met the opinion that gray is a beautiful color besides my own... I suppose that it is, in a certain light.\"" }, { "author": "The Weaver of Stories", "message": "\"I can't say I know much of actual war, though formal war I'm well versed in, my lord.\" Bellaluna spoke coolly, her lips finally grazing the edges of the glass as she took a drink of wine. Idly moving her hand in a circle to cause the wine to shift in its glass, Bellaluna let out a gentle sigh before nodding toward the prince. \"Of course my lord, I can't imagine how much more stressful it is to be a prince. Even as a noblewomen myself.\" Hearing him mention a shakeup however, the elven women tilted her head with intrigue and worry all at once. \"I hope its nothing bad, my lord.\" With another sip of wine, Bellaluna rolled her shoulder a bit, and obvious sign of stress. Thoughts raced in her mind, but she'd never show it in her demeanor if she could help it.\n\n\"Any color can be beautiful if looked at with the right pair of eyes. Even colors as plain as black and white. The world simply isn't that; black and white. There's grays everywhere you look if you simply open your eyes to do so.\" Bellaluna's eyes dulled a bit as she looked out to her parents. It was almost as if she were inadvertently speaking about her family's known prejudice to anyone that wasn't a full blooded elf; the royal family included. Perhaps she was ensuring to the prince that she wasn't that way, even if her parents were. \"An open pair of eyes can see the world completely differently and more openly if they choose to.\"" }, { "author": "Astalios, Iron Prince", "message": "\"It is perhaps the opposite with me. I always seem to find that I am one step behind in the ballroom, while a step ahead on the battlefield. And as for stress, my lady, I find that while the responsibilities of princehood are great, the privileges of the position come with some benefits that I very much enjoy. The food is quite good when I am not on campaign, and the beds are somewhat softer than the ground.\" He joked quietly, taking a small sip of his own drink after she had taken hers. She did not seem to be a terrible person - although that could have been a bad judgement on his part. She could be leading him around the nose with lies at the moment, though her demeanor suggested otherwise...\n\n\"It is nothing bad, I assure you. Alynthi politics will heat up, but for the most part, I imagine the people of Alynthi will be excited to hear it.\" He made his predictions for the competition to follow. An onslaught of women were soon coming - more intense barrages of them than swarms of arrows on a muddy field, more deadly than a pack of wolves stalking him. It was to be the ultimate sacrifice in the name of justice.\n\n\"True, there are grays.\" He acknowledged. \"But sometimes, I believe that we can set the world to a lighter shade if we make enough effort to do so. I hope that is to be true in the future.\"" }, { "author": "The Weaver of Stories", "message": "Bellaluna let out a small chuckle to the prince's jest before sighing. \"Yes I suppose I can agree. Though I can't say I envy having experience with war.\" Sipping on her wine once more, the elf nodded at the prince's reassurance and smiled at the good news. \"That's good to know, my lord. I know my mother and father are eager to know what this ball is all about.\" Eyeing her parents, she set the wine glass on the balcony and idly ran her fingers across a necklace around her neck. Continuing the topic of colors, she nodded. \"The world always needs more light my lord. Too much darkness, if you ask me.\" She looked over to the prince, her eyes bright but sad all at once. \"Even the brightest of lights can sometimes cast the darkest of shadows.\"" }, { "author": "Astalios, Iron Prince", "message": "\"It's not an experience to be envied. War is a brutal thing, in one fashion or another.\" He mused, taking another drink from his wineglass as he surveyed the scene once more. Not too much wine, of course - he needed to be clear headed to remember what the layout of the Agarvaran manor was. Two doors to the left, right turn, one down, and the room on the right. It was all coming together in his mind.\n\n\"Eventually, they will have quite the surprise, as will the rest of the court. I look forward to seeing their reactions.\" He murmured, trying to keep up the facade as much as he could. \"It will at least cause a stir. I have no doubt that our conversation here is at least a small bit pleasing to your mother and father, and it will be more so after the announcement is made.\"\n\nOn the topic of colors... Was she trying to be coy or trying to get him to give up his secrets? \"Take heart in the fact that those of us who seek to increase the light in our lives have not given up.\" It was a generic answer, plausible deniability if he needed it." }, { "author": "The Weaver of Stories", "message": "\"I wonder why that is?\" Bellaluna tilted her head a bit, only growing curioser and curioser at the prince's announcement to be made. What could it be, she wondered? Nevertheless, she finished what was left of her wine before a waiter eventually passed by and took the empty glass from her. She wouldn't press him on the matter however, it wasn't her place given he was so much higher in the royal hierarchy than she. If it were Bellaluna's mother in her shoes, she knew Solana would be much more pressing on the prince, probably more flirtatious as well. Nevertheless, she nodded at the prince's words of light and darkness. \"If only I had the privilege of being surround by more light than dark.\" Bellaluna sighed at her own words before brushing them off. \"Though, I wouldn't worry too much about it. You and your family have done more for this kingdom than any of us deserve, my lord.\"" }, { "author": "Astalios, Iron Prince", "message": "\"Oh, if I revealed it now, it wouldn't be a surprise, my lady. Call it good tactics.\" He chuckled for a moment, placed the wineglass in the hands of a waiter with a 'thank you', and relaxed against the balcony once more. There were whirling dances going on, and more intricate steps going on when the dancers' feet weren't moving. Dances within dances, plots within plots, politics within politics.\n\n\"I hope that everyone has such a privilege. And do not worry, Bellaluna. I shall continue to toil towards what all of my loyal subjects deserve. Do not underestimate yourselves - praise is not all you and your family shall soon find. Rejoice and be glad. I am sure you will find this party quite interesting, and your life a bit brighter, I hope.\" It couldn't be anything more than that - lampshaded against the investigation was the careful admission that he was clueless about the murderous tendencies of her family.\n\nHe hoped that it would shade him from suspicion, especially considering the positive delivery of the message." } ]	285	3,863
320	2021-11-26	GuildTextChat	[ { "author": "Astalios, Iron Prince", "message": "Through the ball, he continued to talk with Bellaluna, play up the intrigue of an announcement to the court, and generally prepare for the commencement of the plan. His pieces were in place, and during the ball, a soldier tapped him on the shoulder, spoke a few code words. And once the dance was done, Prince Astalios was headed back to his personal chambers to prepare for the operation at hand.\n\nHis speech was written and prepared by a scribe that he had selected at Kidu's recommendation, and a court mage stood ready to cast an illusion on him as his advisors attended the disguise. He would be in no simple cloak for this work of deception, but the guise of the unquestionable Lady Solana Agarvaran. As the mage wound his illusion, cloaking Astalios's voice, height, build, and appearance, he kept his fine clothing underneath, and his simpler circlet crown upon his head.\n\nOnce this was ready to be cast, he made a show of preparation to a select few waiters, who spread the gossip amongst themselves in earshot of certain noblemen and women. This, surely, would keep the noblemen tied down at the ball, and the conflicting rumors would keep them discussing. Now, he made his way through secret passage to the wayshrine, and the mage who had turned him into Lady Solana now took on his guise. Any who passed by would greet the prince practicing his speech...\n\nHe raced to the wayshrine, careful to uphold the superior expression and arrogance he had seen on the expression of the elven lady, and stepped through it into Lerwick Manor, and out the other side..." }, { "author": "The Weaver of Stories", "message": "With everything in order, the ball continued like normal with the guests and the Agarvarans none the wiser to what was actually taking place. As the prince made his way through the wayshrine into the town of Lerwick, many of the residents were no where to be seen. This was due to how late it was along with many of them being away and working in the mines. This made Astalios's approach to the Agarvaran manor completely safe and trouble free- that was until he approached the door of the manor itself. A guard seemed to be posted outside, and when he saw what he wholeheartedly believed to be Lady Solana, he bowed and opened the door for her, muttering as she went. \"Is everything okay, my lady?\" Given that she was returning without the rest of the family, it was probably a pretty strange sight to be seen.\n\nWhether the prince chose to answer the guard or not, the door was opened to the manor for him. While Lerwick was an average looking town, the inside of the Agarvaran manor nearly compared to that of the castle. Marble floors with beautiful, expensive and elegant decorations all around. Directly ahead, a staircase going up to a second floor with hallways to the left and right on the first and second floor both. It was a massive manor, but thats to expected for a noble family anyways. The guard waited to close the door until Solana, the prince, answered him however." }, { "author": "Astalios, Iron Prince", "message": "Astalios chose to answer the guard with only a withering glare that he thought worthy of the Lady. He did not need to answer the lowly guard, of course. He was Lady Solana. He flicked his hand in an imperious motion, gesturing for the guard to close the door behind Lady Solana as he walked, straight-backed and proper, up the staircase. There may have been some murderous intensity behind the words that Lady Solana spoke, but he did not know her speech patterns well enough to imitate her. It would have to do for the moment. He, or rather she, was on the warpath.\n\nPast the guard, he ascended the staircase. What had they gone over...?\n\nOh, yes. Two doors to the left, right turn, one down, and the room on the right at the end of the hallway. That was the record room. He thanked the gods that he had prepared using the Royal archives beforehand. He had to be quick, had to be worthy. He took from his \"Bosom\" A key, made of iron, only for show, and unlocked the door by inserting the false key, but turning the tumblers with his own magic. The lock clicked open, and he entered, closing the door behind him.\n\nQuickly, he began to rummage through the records of the family, checking lockboxes, safes... He reached out with his metal senses to see if there were hidden mechanisms that he was missing.\n\nIt had to be fast." } ]	311	960
265.928571	2021-11-27	GuildTextChat	[ { "author": "The Weaver of Stories", "message": "The guard quickly gulped seeing he had upset his lady and without another word the doors were shut behind the disguised prince. As he ascended the stairs, many of the butlers and maids who had just witnessed Lady Solana say nothing and be so angry all at once avoided her, scurrying away or trying their best to seem busy and clean things that seemed to already be spotless. As the prince made his way through the manor, already knowing the layout surely helped with his disguise. This was no fantasy story, for he would surely be caught if the own lady of the house didn't know where she was going in her own home. The moment the prince entered the record room and shut the door behind him, he'd first be greeted by a much, much older elven man who tilted his head in his/her direction. \"Oh, my lady. I thought you were in the capital for a ball?\"\n\nOf course, should the prince ignore him and continue to rummage, it may cause a bit of an alarm, though the elf seemed like nothing more than the families record keeper or something similar." }, { "author": "Astalios, Iron Prince", "message": "\"I have Decided,\" Astalios glared pointedly. \"To review some of our records before returning to the ball. I am close to a business deal with a particularly frustrating nobleman whom I wish to be done with quickly. Leave me.\" He snarled in her voice, promptly returning to his work in going through the papers. Where was the profit margin from the last few years? The expenses? Any sort of record of her family's dealings? They had to be here somewhere - and Astalios was no stranger to record-keeping, having done his research in the Alchemist's Guild.\n\nThere was a filing system somewhere. No trapdoors from his metal sense, nor hidden safes within the walls, were there...?" }, { "author": "The Weaver of Stories", "message": "The old man sputtered a bit, but left nonetheless, shutting the door behind him as he went. As for the prince, he was now completely alone, and as he rummaged through all the files, he'd find they were neatly kept in alphabetical order. With his magic, he'd sense something behind a painting on the opposite wall. The painting itself was that of the Argarvarans, though it must have been recent given Dalyor was missing from the family portrait. It was most likely a safe of sorts or lockbox behind a small trapped door, though as he continued to search in all the files and papers, all major documents he'd inevitably skim over seemed to be tip top in terms of the law of the kingdom. Nothing on slavery, which meant it was hidden somewhere.\n\nAdjacent to the painting, another shelf of files could be seen, and rather than in alphabetical order, they were marked by dates. Each shelf had around five small boxes filled with files, each box with a year's full of files on profits from the mines. The years on the boxes seemed to go relatively far back, around fifteen years. This meant files from the Glynfirs must have been here as well." }, { "author": "Astalios, Iron Prince", "message": "Excellent. First, there was likely to be old information in the Glynfir ledgers, so he decided to prioritize the safe in the walls before coming to them. He reached out with the invisible hand of magic, and feeling the hinges and latches, unlocked them one by one. He removed the painting personally, gently sliding it up and off the wall to set it down carefully on a nearby desk. Ideally, besides the files being missing, the Agarvarans would notice nothing further.\n\nWith a flick of his hand, the wall opened, and he was faced with the lockbox, whose iron mechanism was child's play to turn at Astalios's will. The moment of truth was at hand - what was in the lockbox? What files could he find?" }, { "author": "The Weaver of Stories", "message": "As the prince opened the lockbox, nothing more than a small amulet would be within. There was no sort of metal on it, but it glowed with an obvious form of magic. Alongside the lockbox in the hole in the wall were papers in a file beneath it. Dozens of contracts with the Agarvarans name on each of them were inside, all pertaining to the purchase of obscene amounts of slaves. All contracts were only ever from one of two places however, Dasvaz or Gantrick, the two neighboring kingdom and nation respectively. Both Solana and Hagred's names were each of the contracts, along with a red stamp that read 'Lerwick Trading Company.' On the contracts, the slaves were only ever written down as numbers and letters, such as A230, B843 and so on. Never any names or anything to identify them should they perish in the mines.\n\nPreviously found in the castles archives, the prince would most likely recall to the amount of deaths in the mines since the Agarvarans took over the company having risen exponentially. All contracts present were only ever dated as far back as around the time the Agarvarans took over the mining company. However, the question still remained; what was the amulet for? Why did it glow? What sort of enchantment was within its amethyst shell?" }, { "author": "Astalios, Iron Prince", "message": "Excellent. Astalios slipped the files into his doublet, and left the amulet there. There was no use in taking an obviously magical object when it could blow him open. He had enough evidence for a conviction right there - and as the judge presiding over his own trial, he had the discretion to pronounce the sentence. Execution was imminent for the Agarvarans. He closed the lockbox once more, re-locked the chest, closed the wall and the trapdoor, and replaced the painting and the other files.\n\nThe prince then opened the door to the record room, left, closed it behind him, and quickly strode off to the wayshrine, to return to his castle..." }, { "author": "The Weaver of Stories", "message": "As the prince in disguise exited the archive room, he'd feel a small form bump into his legs, followed by small arms wrapping around them. As he looked down, he'd see a tiny face stare up at him with starry eyes before the small child spoke up to him. \"Hi, momma! Is Luna home?\" The little half-elf girl giggled and looked around past what she believed to be her mother for her elder sister, Bellaluna, but frowned when she saw no one. \"Where's daddy?\" As the small child spoke, a gasp could be heard down the hall as an elderly woman rushed down the hall to scoop the child up into her arms, bowing in apologies to the Lady prince. \"I am terribly sorry, my lady. She heard you had come home and simply wouldn't stay in bed, I'll return her at once, a thousand apologies.\" The elderly woman then began to turn, but the prince would immediately notice a similar glowing amulet for only a moment beneath the woman's dress collar." }, { "author": "Astalios, Iron Prince", "message": "\"Be sure you return her to bed at once. Any further mistakes will be severely punished.\" He commanded her sternly before his eyes caught sight of the amulet. He had thought it a lure trap meant for the would-be thieves of information, but now he knew there was another purpose - perhaps something much more useful to the investigation. That woman may have been Viessa in disguise, or perhaps it was used to control the servants. And undoubtedly, that was the child of Dalyor Agarvaran.\n\nIn any case, once they had begun to head off, Astalios quickly unlocked the archive room once again, went behind the wall, and retrieved the amulet that glowed with the strange purple sheen of a spell. He left just as quickly as he returned, and this time, he would be stopped by no one as the Lady Solana Agarvaran made her way to the wayshrine, amulet tucked into Astalios's doublet along with the papers denoting the slavery contracts. \n\nIt was over for them, he knew that. He might as well discard his disguise - but the surprise of it all was necessary if they wanted to make their moves before the Agarvarans could react. He wanted his troops mobilized. The Royal Guard was already poised to take them prisoner at the end of the ball - they controlled the wayshrine home, and would detain the Lord and Lady should he come back and give the signal.\n\nNow, if was time to send such a signal.\n\nAstalios walked through the wayshrine, and came out inside the castle, seen only by his guards, who had blocked access to the room for the time he had been investigating. He hurried back to his room through the passage, met the mage who had been posing as him.\n\nThe illusions dropped, the amulet and files encased in an iron shell for safekeeping, and embedded in the Prince's wall.\n\nHe thanked the mages and the soldiers, gave a quick nod to the guard captain present that indicated he had found the material he needed.\n\nNow, it was time to return to the party and give a speech.\n\nHis stride to the balcony of the ballroom was now unbroken, his gaze unveiled by any deception. He was now himself again, a more fitting arrangement for someone about to seal the alibi. What would he say? The speech was true - he was getting to the age where he needed to find a wife. If anything happened to his father, he would be king indeed, not just prince. He changed from his white and gold doublet into full royal dress, the black stag on a yellow field featuring prominently as he donned the ceremonial crown, pure gold decorated with antlers, and a cape that draped itself over his shoulders.\n\nAnd now, he had to make a speech. On this front, he was much less accomplished than on the battlefield... \n\nA herald in the royal finery preceded him to the balcony and called the court to attention. The music halted, the couples and nobles dancing stalled, and the room held its breath as the trumpets finished their salute. \n\nThe herald cleared his throat. \"His Majesty, Prince Astalios Dilitirios of Alynthi, The Quicksilver, The Silver Stag, the Iron Prince.\" \n\nHe followed the man onto the balcony, looked out over the noblemen there present. His father and mother watched from over his shoulder, ready for the announcement to proceed. He gave a sharp wave, then cleared his throat.\n\n\"Lords and ladies of the court, I must thank you one and all for appearing to this ball. It is my great pleasure to welcome you to the castle once again, and the ties that bind the aristocracy of Alynthi have been strengthened by this night. It is through all of your dedication and hard work that we have managed to pursue the safety and prosperity of the kingdom we all call home.\"\n\n\"As I have come home from campaign these past two years, I have been repeatedly reminded of legacy, and what it means to make your mark on the world. What do we intend to leave behind?\"\n\n\"The king and queen have left me behind, and secured the future of the kingdom as their legacy. It is my hope that I should work as hard as they have to establish the same peace that we are quite proud of - and to accomplish this, I will need to leave a legacy myself.\"\n\n\"Therefore it is my happy honor to announce that it has come time,\" His voice carried throughout the room, filling every corner. \"For me to begin courting a future Queen of Alynthi. Effective immediately.\" He winced internally at the delivery of the speech. It sounded more like an order than a happy beginning.\n\n\"May the gods guide us all to a happy future - and thank you all for coming to the ball! I hope to see you at many more!\" He finished off his short speech with an open end, implying that he would host more for the purpose of finding a wife. There was so much wrong with his phrasing, of course... But it had been said and done, and the chatter resumed after a round of applause that thundered through the ballroom.\n\nTime to face the music." }, { "author": "The Weaver of Stories", "message": "As the prince was announced, all present turned their attention upward toward the balcony, the music that once played stopped and the loud conversations now silences or a dull murmur. Many wondered just what it was that the prince planned on saying. Ladies whispered to one another fervently, while lords simply watched on most likely a bit more bored than their wives. As the prince spoke on, however, all voices became completely silent at the mention of the king and queen, but gasps and whispers soon erupted when Astalios announced he'd be looking for a lady to court and eventually marry into the royal family. A queen to be caused all the ladies, even the much older ones, to look around at one another in a giddy excitement, including that of Lady Solana.\n\nNot for herself of course, but for Bellaluna. She began to whisper and mumble to her daughter, but Bellaluna looked up at the prince, her eyes filled with unhappiness. Not that she disliked the prince by any means, but the last thing she wanted was to be forced into a marriage with someone she had yet to come to love or even know more past a simple conversation about colors. All she could do was nod to her mother who was most likely pushing her to court the prince, get the Agarvaran name even higher than it already was. The ambitiousness of the family was as plain as day." }, { "author": "Astalios, Iron Prince", "message": "Astalios was grateful, then, that her mother and father were no longer going to be a concern. At least Bellaluna was going to be spared the consequences of the announcement. What could he do for now? Smile at her? Laugh? Wink? There would be numerous implications in everything he said and did, so the best move for the moment was to do nothing. Any sign of favor would mean he only amplified the efforts being made by Lady Solana. He didn't wish to enact any more punishment upon her.\n\nIt would soon be over, anyway. Not the ball, no - but the long history of being pushed around by Lady Solana. He was proud of his portrayal, as the prospect of power seemed to excite her and the servants seemed to fear her. Every move she made was harsh - and perhaps it was not unbelievable that he had played her well. Now, with the documentation he required, Lady Solana was unlikely to be bullying any of her family for the rest of her life.\n\nAnd here they went. He descended the stairs to the ballroom floor, ready to immerse himself in the flurry of ball gowns that were soon coming..." }, { "author": "The Weaver of Stories", "message": "Immersing himself into a flurry of gowns would be a Bit Of an understatement, but correct nonetheless. While Bellaluna seemed to drag her feet as Lady Solana pushed her to go interact with the prince, many more ladies young and old curtsied and offered their greetings as the prince passed them by. Some giggled nervously, others took in the prince's more Private Features like vultures, and even more stayed back anxiously, probably knowing they never stood a chance. Nevertheless, Lady Solana grabbed Bellaluna and practically forced her over through the other women before curtsying low and elegantly for Astalios.\n\n\"Good evening, your majesty. I am Lady Solana Aeryn Agarvaran, and this is my beautiful daughter Bellaluna. I'm not sure you if you two have met or not-\" Bellaluna rolled her eyes at her mother's obvious lie, shaking her head as she averted her eyes from the prince. \"-but allow me to say thank you graciously for an invite to your ball. We Agarvarans have been enjoying ourselves tremendously.\"" }, { "author": "Astalios, Iron Prince", "message": "\"Well met, my Lady. It is my pleasure to have you and your family at the ball. As a matter of fact, I have indeed met Bellaluna before the announcement was made.\" He inclined his head to the lady, and once more to Bellaluna. There was no gesture of familiarity, no sign of favor. It was the best he could do to spare Bellaluna at the moment. Just a few more formalities.\n\n\"I hope that you continue to enjoy the festivities.\" He gave her a respectful nod that she did not deserve. There was no way that this woman could be experienced with any sort of dignity once one knew what she had done, but he had to fake it for the moment, like Lady Solana and Lord Hagred did daily to pretend that they were not murderous, slaving snakes.\n\nHe moved past them, trying to make his way to another set of suitors in an attempt to cut the conversation off." }, { "author": "The Weaver of Stories", "message": "As the prince walked off, Lady Solana quickly turned and dragged Bellaluna away. She was obviously scolding her, probably believing her daughter had offended the prince in some way. Nevertheless, other ladies and even a few lords made their way to the prince, offering their chance at a conversation with the single prince. A chance at royalty was something anyone would want. In the distance, Lady Solana could be seen leaving the ballroom with both Lord Hagred and Bellaluna, though they didn't seemed to be in any hurry. Lord Hagred seemed to be sternly talking to Bellaluna as they walked, and it was most likely the two parents intended on having a harsh conversation with their daughter away from prying eyes and gossiping lips." }, { "author": "Astalios, Iron Prince", "message": "Working as intended, he supposed, but he did feel bad for Bellaluna. There had to be something he could do for her that wouldn't displease her parents, but wouldn't indicate he had any undue interest in her. Ah, why bother? It was for the rest of the night only... And Astalios needed to seen the half-ruse that he was looking for a lady to court. He was, of course, actually looking.\n\nSo he continued on his way, hoping for some good conversation as the night dragged on, and the dances continued." } ]	219.5	3,723
309	2021-11-28	GuildTextChat	[ { "author": "The Weaver of Stories", "message": "Quite some time passed, ladies had given their hello's and goodbye's to the prince time and time again, some even gaining he chance to share a dance with him. However, the later it got, the slower the ball seemed to become and every once in a while a family would take their leave, thanking the king, queen and the prince for the invitation and beautiful ball as they went. The Agarvarans were still present, talking the ears off of other fellow noble families. Nevertheless, it seemed the ball would be coming to a close soon." }, { "author": "Astalios, Iron Prince", "message": "Astalios was growing rather weary of the ball - there were too many people to meet, too many women to dance with, too many nobles to please. He couldn't help but feel that there was something missing about each of them - A dash of adventure, perhaps? It was likely, however, that he wasn't giving them a fair chance. The mind of the prince was elsewhere, on the trap he had laid for a certain elven family.\n\nHe broke from the last dance with a bow and a light kiss to the hand, then decided to make it happen himself. No more waiting. There would be absolute certainty, even if he had to make Bellaluna a little uncomfortable for a few moments. There would be time to apologize later.\n\nHe made his way over to the Agarvarans, nodding his head as he approached them. \"Good evening, Lord and Lady Agarvaran. Lady Bellaluna.\" His eyes lingered on her face intentionally. He had to bait the hook well. Inwardly, he reminded himself to apologize.\n\n\"May I do the honor of escorting you home? The ball is ending, and I have a few matters to discuss with the both of you.\"" }, { "author": "The Weaver of Stories", "message": "As many noble families took their leave, many ladies and lords offered the prince final winks and waves goodbye as well, hoping to further cement their chance at the throne. It was a bit sickening to think about, how quickly many of them would throw their bodies at the prince if given the chance, only to have a shot at one day becoming queen of Alynthi. No true love or anything of the sort. They were power hungry, as many people are in the world. As the prince made his way over to the Agarvarans, all three turned to greet the prince respectfully via bows and curtsies. Lady Solana smiled brightly at Astalios, his words only causing her dark eyes to light up even more. \"Good evening, your majesty.\"\n\nLord Hagred bowed deeply as well, his voice low and rumbling, unusual for that of an elf. \"Thank you for the invitation, my lord.\" Bellaluna offered a meek smile to the prince, her heart sinking out of what was about to happen between her parents and the prince. \"But of course, your majesty, we'd be honored.\" Lady Solana raised her brows to her daughter when she thought the prince wasn't looking before gently pressing a hand to Bellaluna's back to get closer to Astalios as they walked. \"I must congrajulate you on the announcement, my lord. I know the kingdom's been anxiously awaiting this day.\" Lord Hagred spoke as they walked toward the castle's wayshrine, his long black hair flowing down the back of his suit. \n\n\"Indeed, my love. News of a potential princess is always great news for the young ladies of the kingdom. I can't imagine how many- Ill-fitted Women have tried their hand with you tonight, your majesty. You need a good elven woman, if you don't mind my saying.\" Lady Solana chirped in, bowing her head just in case she may have stepped a bit too far over a line that may or may not have been there." }, { "author": "Astalios, Iron Prince", "message": "They reacted the exact way he would have expected. There was no way that he could avoid it - and his heart went out to Bellaluna for the moment, but if the larger issue of justice was to be solved, he had to bear with them for the moment. The amount of people that had mobbed him was truly staggering, and to clear his head, well - using the authority of the Prince of Alynthi was a good way to get out some of his frustration at the new life he was going to have to live. The winks and waves were fine enough, but he doubted that any of the women knew him, or were looking for love. Perhaps they were looking for nothing more than a crown...\n\nHe was unlikely to give it to them with such attitudes. Perhaps a decent enough con woman would make it into his heart, and he would be stuck with someone who didn't love him for the rest of his life - although he doubted that would be the outcome. Love was a matter that he couldn't begin to figure out, but he was sure that it would end well if he played his cards right. Vetting the ladies that he showed favor was a must, and he needed to assert that he was looking for a personal connection - if they didn't really like him, they were free to leave. Not many people liked to be in the thick of battlefields.\n\n\"I thank you both for your graciousness, Lord and Lady Agarvaran. As for whether the kingdom has been awaiting this day, I do not know that I had any sense of tact when choosing it, but I had hoped that it would be a welcome date. Not close to any feast days of holidays. Not in the harvest season.\" He replied, going through his reasoning. There was, of course, the trap, but there was no hint of that in the genial smile or the chestnut-brown eyes of Astalios. For now, he was the prince of good times and celebration.\n\n\"And of course - many women have tried their hand. I expect that this will be only the first of many incidences. As to whether elven women are needed, I have not had the opportunity to court many women at war.\"" }, { "author": "The Weaver of Stories", "message": "\"Ah yes, our warring prince. I'm sure both your mother and father are fiercely proud of you, I know I would be if I had a son like you.\" Lord Hagred spoke, almost as if he never had a son to begin with. Bellaluna's eyes seemed to go dull with sadness, even behind the beautiful smile she had on her face. Her gem-like blue eyes almost seemed to go grey. Nevertheless, the four continued onward toward the wayshrine, and as they arrived to it, Lady Solana turned to the prince. \"Once again, thank you for the invitation to such a beautiful ball. It's always a pleasure to see the castle in all its grandeur. Would you join us for some tea while we discuss what you mentioned?\" As she said this, they had made it to the wayshrine, and the three Agarvarans stopped to look at the prince. \n\n\"I can show you to our lounge once we arrive at the manor, its most comfortable there my lord. Though I am curious, what was it you wished to discuss?\" Lady Solana said with a wicked smile. Hagred nodded his head in agreement before gently nudging Bellaluna. \"Oh- erm, yes. I could give you a tour of our gardens. They're most beautiful at night.\" Bellaluna's voice seemed happy and upbeat but drained all at once. Even more so when her father refused to acknowledge her lost and estranged sibling." } ]	302	1,545
279.142857	2021-11-29	GuildTextChat	[ { "author": "Astalios, Iron Prince", "message": "He nodded along as he walked forward to the wayshrine with the family that seemed a little too comfortable in its lies for his sake. There was a nest of evil inside each of their hearts - and while he breathed, it was his duty to root out and destroy evil. So it was with these people - these slaving snakes that wore the faces of elves. It would soon be their time for retrubition.\n\n\"You are too kind, Lord Hagred - I am sure if you had a son, he would be most accomplished.\" He replied mildly, thinking of the fate of Dalyor. His real son had been banished, his wife and child stolen from him...\n\n Bellaluna's eyes were windows to her soul. Thankfully, she hadn't picked up the lying habits of her parents...\"~~You've activated my trap card!~~ On the contrary, Lady Solana.\" Astalios simply replied to the woman as they reached the wayshrine. He took his footing in front of the entrance for a moment, a genial smile still on his face.\n\n\"I was hoping I could show you and your husband a few rooms that I think suit you in the castle.\" At the signal of his hand motions, soldiers of the Royal Guard snapped to attention, filing into the room beside him, pikes and swords drawn. An accomplished abjuration mage followed them, ready to counter any spells sent flying.\n\n\"For example, the dungeons. Your perjury, slavery, and murder makes them an excellent fit for your ilk. I hereby arrest you in the name of the crown, for your many crimes against the people of Alynthi and House Glynfir.\" His smile morphed into a stern snarl that only softened for a moment as he turned to Bellaluna.\n\n\"As for you, Lady Bellaluna, you are free to go. Please enter the wayshrine. My sincerest apologies for the trouble tonight - I did not mean to make this an uncomfortable experience for you, but business had to be taken care of.\"" }, { "author": "The Weaver of Stories", "message": "Lady Solana and Lord Hagred both stopped in their tracks, turning back as the prince stopped him with their words. Tilting their heads in slight confusion, their eyes both widened as royal guards began to swarm them, weapons drawn. \"Wh- what is this?!\" Lady Solana spoke out, her husband gripping her arm fearfully. \"What is the meaning of this, Prince Astalios?!\" Lord Hagred shouted as well. Bellaluna gripped her mother's dress in fear, almost like a small child hiding behind her. \"Astalios-\" She started, but was cut off by the prince's next words. The mention of slaverly and the Glynfir's though caused both the Lord and Lady's expressions to change to that of a much more sinister tone. \"Damn you, Astalios!\" One of them called out, a spell forming on the Lord's hands before being diminished by the royal mage.\n\nThe two, knowing they had been beat, raised their arms in defeat. The soldiers came forward and clasped their wrists in iron, but not before Lady Solana called out to Bellaluna. \"You know what you must do, child! Don't end up like Dalyor, don't betray your family!\" As Lady Solana and Lord Hagred were dragged off, Bellaluna looked on in shock, her eyes practically staring through everyone and everything. She most likely hadn't heard anything said by anyone, as her face turned pale." }, { "author": "Astalios, Iron Prince", "message": "\"Lady Bellaluna.\" Astalios spoke gently to her. \"Your brother was most concerned about you. You cannot believe the relief he felt when I told him that Viessa still lived, and that his child was not dead. I imagine he will be just as relieved to see that you are safe and sound. As a matter of fact, I believe I met your niece tonight, and I cannot help but think of the joy of his meeting her.\"\n\nHe waited for her, hoping she was all right. If she was in such shock, there were few things that could really snap a person out of it save for family and people they cared about. To arrest her parents with her right there might also have been slightly traumatic, but Astalios was well accustomed to such things as shock, and he did not often consider the social implications of seeing your parents, horrible as they are, arrested.\n\n\"Are you all right, my lady?\" He asked, concerned about the experience for her. It might have pushed her over some edge..." }, { "author": "The Weaver of Stories", "message": "\"I-..\" Bellaluna stuttered, tears forming in her eyes. After a few moments of silence, she lunged forward, wrapping her arms around the prince's neck as she embraced him pitifully. All walls pertaining to the proper way to act around a royal seemingly dropped; this was nothing nothing more than a little girl crying in the arms of a man she saw as her hero. She began to sob, and after many minutes of her crying she finally collected herself. \"I- I can't think you enough. They were- were monsters. They killed so many, they almost killed Dalyor I-\" Bellaluna stood, wiping her eyes as she did so. \"Her last words they- she wanted me to do away with one of our maids.\"\n\nBellaluna bowed her head in apology before continuing, \"My mother, Lady Solana she put a spell on one of the Glynfir's, their daughter, Viessa. She and Dalyor had a child with one another, and shortly after she cursed her to look old and gray, along with stealing away their daughter. I was meant to- to kill them or have them be killed should anything happen to my mother or father. I-\" Bellaluna stopped herself for a moment, shaking her head at the prince. \"I could never...\"" }, { "author": "Astalios, Iron Prince", "message": "He embraced her steadily enough, holding her there for a few moments. She had been through enough for one day - and a breach in decorum was not going to kill anyone. There was no need to rush now - the trap had already been sprung, her parents taken to the jails, and the prospect of Viessa's death had been averted. He had been guessing for a while that the amulet he had taken from the chest was related to the woman being Viessa. It seemed that now, his suspicions had been confirmed, and he was vindicated for his thoughts. \n\nGently, he guided her off of him, then listened to the story of what she was supposed to do. It seemed much like the Agarvarans to do such a thing. \"Rejoice, Bellaluna. During the ball, when I was supposed to be preparing for my speech, I took the wayshrine to your manor disguised as your mother. I entered the records room, took cold and hard proof of their monstrosity, and also took a purple amulet that I believe contains the curse on Viessa. With any luck, you should see her restored, your brother once again at Lerwick Manor, and be attending a wedding relatively soon.\" \n\nA smile cracked across his face as he revealed to her the solution he had come up with. \"Though Dalyor's claim has been legally broken off by the Agarvarans, their status as criminals allows me to seize their property for the crown when they are convicted - and make no mistake, the judge deciding their fate is none other than myself. I can give my property to a certain man, who, if he wishes to marry Viessa Glynfir, will have the strongest claim to being Lord of Lerwick that anyone can muster.\"" }, { "author": "The Weaver of Stories", "message": "\"You.. You disguised yourself as my mother?\" Bellaluna couldn't help but let out a gentle chuckle. The lengths the prince had gone to put them behind bars was crazy, but it simply showed how much Astalios cared about his people. Bellaluna nodded her head, \"I understand. Thank you, your majesty. Thank you so much.\" Bellaluna offered a mournful smile, though there was a slight sparkle back in her eye once more. \"Do you wish for me to send Viessa and her child through the wayshrine here?\" Bellaluna peered over to the wayshrine, unsure how to face those in the household with this revelation and news." }, { "author": "Astalios, Iron Prince", "message": "\"Yes, well, I had thought that an intimidating glare would save me from any questioning. No one would dare to interrupt Lady Solana, would they? No, I thought it was a good ruse, and it turns out that I was right.\" He shrugged, his actions speaking for themselves for the moment. As for the prospect of Viessa and her child meeting him - well, they already had, in a manner of speaking, but he thought it best to have Dalyor visit them first. In this, they were better off meeting the man that had so wanted to meet them than the one who had arrested the people the child thought were here parents.\n\n\"I will have Dalyor return to the manor instead. I would like for your reunion to be a private one. Afterward, I will summon you all again for the commencement of the trial, but for now, give thanks, be well, and begin to heal. It is all I can ask of you. All things considered, you have been very lucky that a vigilante in the Greenheart Woods was such an unpleasant person.\"He remarked, turning on his heel and heading back to the royal quarters." } ]	269	1,954
673.555556	2022-08-21	GuildTextChat	[ { "author": "Astalios, Iron King", "message": "After the last words had left his mouth, and the cheers had finally begun to fade, Astalios inhaled, exhaled, and stepped down from the podium and into the wash of the crowd, one foot after another carrying him forward. The declaration that he was king had been made - now he had to do the work to fulfil the role. He gave his mother a quick embrace, a kiss on the cheek - and his sister a warm hug. \n\nBut then, there was much more to do than comfort family. That would occur later tonight. For now, as always when dealing with official business, Astalios pushed down the proclivity to relax and forged his way forward into the life of the king he needed to be - the king he wanted to be - for the day. Dignitaries, well-wishers, his council, the royalty of other nations - all needed to speak with him, or perhaps needed to exchange pleasantries. That was fine. He was ready and willing, wearing his wrought golden crown of thornlike antlers, the black and gold and white cloaking him in ceremony as he made his rounds." }, { "author": "Queen Sierra Seey", "message": "Sierra wasted no time. \nAs soon as she got the impression that Astalios was ready to talk to, princess to king, she headed straight for him. \nWith the elegance of a dancer, but the quick steps of a hunter, she approached him, and from afar already made her intentions known. By a look alone. \n\nSome would think her hands glued to her stomach by now, as she barely moved them at all, and simply let them rest in the same place. Only a wayward strand a hair, was cause enough to shift them about. \n\nHaving finally reached Astalios she stops about 2 feet from him, and curtsies in front of him. Faintly. She wants him to know that while she respects him for king, he wasn't much higher than her. And soon they would be equals.\n\n\"Princess Sierra Seey, of Findara. A pleasure, King Astalios Dilitros of Alynthi. \nAs you might know, my grandparents have kept me under their close and harsh guidance for a while now. \nToday, a comparably small a cause for celebration compared to your coronation, I was for the first time permitted to leave our castles perimeters since I arrived there 6 years ago. \nNonetheless I expect you've heard of me. If not, one more reason for me to despise my grandmother's love for secrecy. \n\nNo doubt however, will you have questions of me, and I have questions to ask you. As you might have noticed, my grandparents did not attend today. I would like to discuss the cause for it in more privacy, but I ensure you, that they do not think less of you in any way. They, and I, have good reason.\n\nI would also like to discuss an unrelated private matter. The nature of which is also better kept under lock and key. And I would prefer if my grandparents were not informed either.\n\nShe speaks in a low tone, compared to the noise of those around them, that keeps slightly rising and falling regardless of her words, something he'd already be used to from her grandfather, whose tone had always been hard to read. It seems to run in the family. \nDespite that, she is making an effort to come across as friendly and approachable, something she barely manages. Her hard exterior and ice cold gaze make her seem distant, regardless of how many warm smiles she flashes" }, { "author": "Astalios, Iron King", "message": "The first of the circling birds, it seemed, was coming. It was not, however, the swaggering silhouette of Alyus that forced its way to the front, but the demure and rather quiet figure that had been in attendance beside the rest of the royalty at his coronation. The seating chart had named her as Princess Sierra Seey of Findara, and he knew her purported grandparents quite well indeed - his chess matches with her grandfather had been a regular pastime since he had returned from war, and before then, as a child in the court, he had been quite close to the old elf, learning as much as possible about the duties of kingship as he was willing to teach.\n\nNow, their granddaughter appeared to him, gave a small curtsy, as he might have expected. He had never bowed to the kings of other nations either, never bent the knee. It was a good sign that she was not making that particular mistake. He returned the courtesy with a nod of the head in respect to her as he tried to absorb what she was saying. Information, in many forms, was the currency of good leadership, and if this was his first test, he should not fail now.\n\n\"Well met, Princess.\" He replied quietly, brows furrowing in concern as he listened to the rest of her speech. Her grandparents had kept her close - that much was true, he had heard her name perhaps twice from the old king over the chessboard. He had been rather surprised to see her attendance at his coronation, and it was apparent that something had changed in the court of Findara - but he knew not what. Questions he had indeed - and a flare of irritation, as if she was insulting a family member, sparked within him for a moment as she professed that she despised her grandmother's love for secrecy. Family, to him, was a deep connection - and through the adage that blood was thicker than water was meant to say that bonds Forged Were stronger than that of family, his mother had been adamant that the opposite was true.\n\nOnly Family Shared blood.\n\n_ _\nStill, his concern and anger was not only for the way she spoke about her grandmother - but also for the possibility that she was right. Family should treat each other better than that, he mused, one way or the other. More would be revealed in time. And the reason for her grandparents' absence was... Foreboding. With so many enemies in the world to deal with, he could not help but feel he was letting an ally slip into trouble.\n\nIf her grandfather needed help, Astalios's loyalty was unquestionable.\n\n\"If you would like to discuss such matters with me, it seems as though they are quite urgent. From the description alone...\" His expression, through the entire moment, had been as it always was - contemplative, serious, focused. He was as impassive as could be, like a steel statue.* \"It seems we may have much to talk about. If the urgency demands that we speak, then there is a private chamber outside, near the throne room, that may suit our purposes.\"" }, { "author": "Queen Sierra Seey", "message": "Sierra stopped for a moment, contemplating his words. \nShe had Intended to create a sense of urgency, but she had not expected him to deny everyone else an opportunity to speak to him, for her. \nIts almost like he was flattering her. Or perhaps he had an ulterior motive. Annoyed at her own paranoia, she Quickly discards the treacherous thought that the closest ally of hers should harbor an ill will towards her. \nInstead she nods to him, acknowledging his decision, and giving him her best attempt a genuinely warm smile. \nIt still came off as a little distant\n\n\"If that is so, then i will happily indulge the opportunity. Though I hope to resolve everything quickly, and not keep you for too long\n\nThere are other vying for your attention\"\n\nThe princess steps aside, to let Astalios lead the way, And looked around to see if others would dissent her for hogging the king like she did. \nIn hindsight she should have let a few others talk to him and approach him after only. But what if they would have dragged him away. \nShe sighed on the inside. As always she was doubting her own decision, and had to remind herself that sometimes being selfish was a good thing. \nBesides, she meant it when she said that she did not want to keep the King for long. \n\nOne way or another, no backing up now" }, { "author": "Astalios, Iron King", "message": "\"Time is no object if this discussion is of some importance. Others will wait in service of a friend.\" Astalios replied evenly, stating the fact as if it had always been so, an unshakable truth that he held dear. Loyalty was always a virtue that he rewarded in his troops - and if he was not a loyal man himself, and did not aid those he was pledged to trust and defend, he could no longer ask it of the men he commanded.\n\nHe led her, with quick strides that parted the sea of people like a ship's prow, out of the ballroom for a small moment and to the antechamber that he had sat in earlier, keeping tabs on everyone that came near with the unseen eye of his magic. Two guards were all that followed, and he ordered them with a hand to stay outside the chamber as he and the princess entered. Inside was a simple room - a mosaic of the Alynthi stag covered the floor, a bench and private altar for prayer at the opposite end from the door. Nothing else met the eye.\n\n\"Please.\" He gestured to the short bench, choosing to remain standing while she sat. His voice softened by a half-degree as he let out a breath that he did not know he had been holding - her grandfather, it seemed, was in some sort of trouble - and considering the friendship that they shared, it was nothing short of certain that he was going to throw his weight behind aiding the king.\n\n\"Now,\" He spoke carefully, trying to cut to the heart of the issue as quickly as possible, his voice colored by true concern for the old man. \"Is Sarven all right? Is your family in trouble? I can intervene on his behalf if there's been a coup or an unstable political situation for some time. If there has been a coup, I will cut down his attackers personally.\" \n\nHis voice was truly urgent, the passion of a man worried for a friend - less veiled than public stoicism. \"If there's been a disease of some kind, I can summon the Alchemical Association to see if there are medicines to deal with it, even in experimental testing.\"" }, { "author": "Queen Sierra Seey", "message": "Sierra found herself just as surprised to hear him call her friend, as she had been just a second earlier in him indulging her. \nShe genuinely thought it would be a challenge and diplomatic and political nightmare to get close enough to the newly coronated king. \n\nThe princess followed with quick steps, keeping her eyes locked on the person in front of her, not wanting to draw any unneeded attention. She imagined the two of them walking off was already suspicious enough. \n\nOnce she had entered, she wasted but a glance at the décor. Impressive, but not to her tastes, as expected. \nInstead she drew a line in the air, closed her eyes and let an incantation fly over her lips. \n\n\"A ward against detection magic and scrying sensors\" She explained.\n\nAs much as she enjoyed an opportunity to sit down, as strange was it to have the other hulk over her, restlessly standing. \nAnd while listening to the horrible things astalios was imagining and conjuring up from nothing, she herself got a bit restless, shifting from side to side on the bench\n\n\"First, I can defuse most your worries. \nThe king is doing alright, healthy and while the noble circles estimate of him is as disapproving as it has always been, no-one is annoyed enough to enact a coup. Yet. \nIf I had known you two were This Close I would have chosen my words more carefully, but the matter is a different one entirely. He has spoken of you, but mostly in analyzing your chess play patterns while trying to get me involved with the game. \n\nAs you might be aware, we are but a few weeks away from my grandparents 400th anniversary as ruling King and Queen. \nNo doubt you will already have received an invitation to the occasion. \nWhat my grandmother would love to keep secret until the very last second is that the two of them intend to step down. \nAnd what is currently said to be a 3 day celebration of said anniversary, really is one day of celebration for that, and the other two are intended for my coronation. \nI will soon become the Queen of Findara. \n\nThat is the core reason, why I am here today instead of them. \n\nIf you wish it, I will let my grandfather know of your heartfelt worry, I am sure he would appreciate it deeply and more so than I ever could.\"\n\nA deep breath followed, as she began talking of heavier topics\n\n\"I also wanted to express my personal condolences for the loss of your father. And congratulate you on your successful and impressive coronation. Should I not get the chance to talk to her personally, I would like it if you could let your sister know of my condolences as well. \n\nI will also say, that these past few months in the capital have become more and more restless. \nMy grandfather is neglecting his obligations more and more, as he wastes time on trivial things. Ones that he could well spend the rest of his years exploring instead. \nAnd as you might be able to imagine, my grandmother, while being the one who has brought forth their plans of retirement, is now deeply regretting them. She's become more and more abusive in her usage of power, and more and more insufferable to be around, and is making up for Sarven's absence in the court threefold. \nThe only way I can calm her, is insinuating that I will become a pawn for her, and that she can continue her rule through me. Which I have no intention of doing. \nI can however reassure you, that I have every attention of strengthening the bond between our nations, as we have done for many hundreds of years. And as our ancestors have done. \nTo that end I want to make a political picture of the situation myself. All the information i have is from 3rd, 4th and potentially 5th hands. \nI would prefer it to be from the source itself.\nAnd I will use the resources at my disposal to aid where I can.\"\n\nShe was worried that she had insituated distress, and if she had made her intentions clearer he would have denied her the audience. \nIn a way, she feels she tricked him, which by all means wasn't her intention." }, { "author": "Astalios, Iron King", "message": "\"...I see.\" The calm composure of the court was replaced, perhaps out of habit, on his face as he listened to what she had to say - each and every item on the list was run over in his mind like a bulletin board being checked down for errors. First on the list, of course, her grandfather's health was assured - but the nobility disapproved of him. The opinions of courts, he noted, were as fickle as the wind - the last he had heard, her grandfather's rule was rather prosperous for the entirety of the realm. But people, as he was more and more likely to find, were rather less worthy than he had thought them to be - even in places like their own realms. It was infuriating. Had they no respect for the long reign of a stable monarch? For the work he had done for them over four hundred years of service?\n\n\"I would say, Princess, that a man who plays chess with another often learns just as much about his opponent as he does about the game.\" He murmured through gritted teeth, the poetic observation masking his displeasure at the situation at court in Findara. \"But yes, I have received it.\" \n\nAs she continued, he lent his ear once more - and found news that shook him to the core. Perhaps he had taken her grandfather as a rock upon which the kingdom of Findara was built, or a universal constant - but sadly, his reign too was ending, and not prematurely like his father's. But the subterfuge of such a coronation was likely to draw the ire of many dignitaries of neutral countries, who would likely feel snubbed and excluded. There was a protocol for this sort of official procedure, and it included invitations and proper preparation for a reason - not to make enemies of guests. \n\nWhat in the world had caused such a lapse in judgment from a man he respected and admired? What had meant he had to abdicate in favor of his untested granddaughter? A woman who, from what she was saying, had been kept nearly imprisoned? Perhaps things in Findara were worse than he had thought.\n\n_ _\nNearly every piece of news she brought was concerning, and cause for some action - which was a dark sign for things to come. The more she spoke, the more he worried. Blast. Why now? Why, when another war with Dazvaz was looming, when the antics of King Alyus threatened to break peace, when the Lazaroth elves became more and more brazenly evil - why did he choose to withdraw? To throw in the towel, to abandon Astalios when he needed him the most? He had fought in dozens of wars, led his people through struggle to prosperity. \n\nAnd now he was gone. \n\nWithdrawn into his own world, as Sierra had said. Foreboding indeed. The condolences about his father hit more deeply than he might have liked to imagine - for more and more, he felt he was left without friends in the world. His father had been one of the last few bastions of what was truly right within it, and now... He had zealots on all sides, flimsy rulers and concerning developments, while their erstwhile enemies seemed only to be multiplying. Evil was festering in the courts of his allies - perhaps not the evil of violence, but the evil of degeneration and irresponsibility. \n\nHis lips were drawn tight, mouth in a hard line as he adjusted his posture, now coolly absorbing the new developments like a commander receiving tactical information. It had rapidly changed from a personal issue to a new battlefield - that of hearts and minds. And he could not count on anyone but himself to be a marshal. That was increasingly clear here, as the girl, untested in battle, was to become queen. Gods help them in the future - they would soon need all the luck they could get. It was some time before he spoke again, leaving a heavy pause in the midst of their conversation, but when he did, it was with the temperance of a man attempting to leave his own feelings behind and focus on the necessary details for victory.\n\n_ _\n\"I believe, Princess, that you and your grandparents are making a severe mistake by concealing the coronation under the guise of that anniversary celebration. It will either appear to be a rushed, hasty decision, or a political snub to neutral countries - neither of which are particularly favorable outcomes for you at the moment.\" He advised, keeping his speech short and to the point. He did seem as though he was genuinely trying to help - simply in the manner he knew best, as a commander to a fellow general.\n\n\"You need them to both recognize you properly and make them believe that your grandparents trust you, which is going to be an active contradiction to what has been implied in hiding the coronation date. It speaks of fear and of bad planning. Publicize it, and perhaps move the date back to a point in time at which every king and queen that could possibly want to attend will have the undeniable ability to do so. You may also want to consider a progress through the towns of Findara - Sarven was a familiar face to many in the kingdom. For most, he is all they have ever known, living through their grandparents' lifetimes.\" There was something irreplaceable about the constancy of time, he thought, but this was as good as one could do.\n\n\"Furthermore, if the date has been set, your grandmother, though...\" He paused for a moment, a fond recollection of both her grandparents now tainted by this news. It left a bitter taste in his mouth. \"You must not deal with her directly. It has Never Been her to whom they will owe allegiance - and you must remind the noblemen of that. They must see you as their lifeline, and not her. I wish I could say I was a more competent politician than I am, but if you need military assistance, I will without fail aid you.\"\n\n\"All I ask of you is your trust. It is the lynch pin in the alliance that holds the world together. Gods know what carnage might result if we cannot rely on each other.\"" }, { "author": "Queen Sierra Seey", "message": "Sierra felt the need to get a bit defensive. He had, possibly on accident, implied she was complicit in these schemes and trickery\n\n\"You assume I have any authority or ability to influence their decision-making. \nIf I did, this entire situation wouldn't be as dire as it was. \nWhat I am doing right now, informing you of their plans, was against the express wishes of my grandmother. Hence my request to not let them know\"\n\nThough, for fairness sake, she would also defend her grandparents\n\n\"What I believe is happening, is that my grandparents are getting conscious of their end. \nFor the longest time they were trying to deny it. They've led a long life, filled with power, and for most of it, with no chance at a legacy. \nNow I am suddenly back, discovered in Khisfire, and hastily brought back home. \nIt is entirely possible that my presence is causing them to act irrationally. Overreacting in a way. \nThat they simply wish to guide me with their wisdom. \nThat they are slowly making an enemy of their granddaughter, doesnt occur to them. \nThat their decisions are alienating everyone, and causing irrational harm, they are blind to. Simply ecstatic that their line doesnt die with them. \n\nI can understand them. In a strange, twisted way, I can. And i think the passing of your father, and your coronation has, 'inspired' them to shake things up themselves. \nChange inspires change, in a way. These events might have clued them in, that its the end of their reign. \n\nEntirely speculation. Bringing it up with them personally, would no doubt inspire an endless debate that could spiral out of control. And I would trust my grandmother in her stressed, annoyed and explosive state to make it somehow deadly to everyone involved as well. Despite her age and temper she is a formidable mage still.\"\n\nSierra took a deep breath, and for a few moments closed her eyes. She had to recall some information herself. Make sure she had retold everything correctly, and make a quick decision on what to do next. Her eyes opened with a refreshed, stern gaze to them. She had some kind of idea.\n\n\"I do however agree, that keeping my coronation secret is a very big mistake. And I am willing to take a risk. It however requires you to become complicit in this scheme. \nI would ask you to write a letter. Thinly masked as a response to the invitation. And ask about my wellbeing. Maybe even bring up my forced seclusion and borderline imprisonment. Another royals inquiries might be all I need to sew doubt in their minds about the entirety of their ways. \nAnd I might even be able to sway their opinions in my- in our- favor. \nFrom their point of view, letting me leave the confines of the castle, letting me voice my dissent to anyone, let alone the king of Alynthi, was a major mistake. \n\nThey have however one unforgettable ace up their sleeve. \nApart from me, and a few very trusted and loyal advisors, and now you, none know that I am intended to be coronated soon. Or at all. \nThey might retaliate with the withdrawal of those plans. Merely hold their celebration, and continue their reign. \nIt is the consequence should I become __unfitting__ for the role.\"\n\nShe spit the word out. No doubt she had heard it many times these past few months or even years\n\n\"Worse yet, they might Properly Lock me away. Ive enjoyed a modicum of freedom so far. But that might chance in a heartbeat.\"\n\nAnother pause follows, before she continues, a bit quieter, and letting the royal tone slip a tiny bit\n\n\"I am thankfull that I can confide in you, king astalios. That you are willing to listen. And help, what surmounts to be a stranger\"" }, { "author": "Astalios, Iron King", "message": "That, he thought, was the problem with her. She was the queen to be, and yet she was not ruling. As an heir, Astalios himself had been involved in policy, and many times, the reminder that he would remember his friends and never forget his enemies made during this time of transition was enough to induce action. It was likely she could turn the court to her side, considering they would already likely be plying her with gifts or promises.\n\n\"As Princess, you Do Have authority. Especially as the heir. Noblemen care about staying afloat, staying in power. And you have your words.\" He spoke earnestly, attempting to put the intention of his words clearly. \"If your grandparents are being irrational, as you say, the argument one needs to make is that they are Not Setting you up for success. Inform them that they are crippling your early rule - and I am sure your grandmother wants a functioning pawn, at least, on the board. If they are conscious of their end, remind them that creating a good legacy means properly preparing you for rule - and not handing you more enemies through a political snub. Sarven is more than intelligent enough to realize this, and so is she.\"\n\nIt was all about framing - and that was an excellent tool for a ruler, the ability to frame a problem in a way that the recipient of the argument could understand, not in a way that mattered to you. Arguments based on his own morality had no place in a Lazaroth court. The only way to get through to people was to speak to them in their own language. The orc that he had found within the Greenheart came to mind - his throat opened on the ground, bleeding into the grass - but given a good death, because of Astalios's experience with the orcish mindset. He had yielded information due to the same argument.\n\nHis face fell, however, when she suggested he write a letter smearing them in the face of the world. The very concept of doing so, of fabricating the information, itched at him like a disease.\n\n_ _\nWhy lie? Why was he being asked to tarnish that reputation they had garnered, not only to Astalios, but to their people? The evil that men did lived after them - but the good was oft interred with their bones. Was it to be so with her grandparents - that he would write in his own hand and forget their friendship in service of exposing their insanity? \n\nOne thing was clear, however. Sierra was Not* Ready for rule. Solving the problem of the snub by destroying the reputation of her kingdom as honorable was not a helpful solution - and she seemed to have given up far too quickly for his liking on solving this through other means.\n\nShe was, however, much better than the alternative, if she was to be believed. It was a sad day for Findara.\n\n\"That is Not, in my opinion, a helpful solution, Princess.\" He replied bluntly.* \"I would only be sullying the foundation for your rule - and almost certainly encouraging people to call you illegitimate. If they are rumored to be keeping you secret and treating you badly, it will raise questions not only about your well-being, but their mental state - and call into question whether you are in fact their granddaughter at all. Put simply, I will not write the letter. I believe I can help in other ways. But that is out of the question.\"\n\n\"Instead, let me visit the castle, talk with them about their anniversary. Sarven has been known to occasionally take my advice, and I am sure I can work something out if I make a state visit, or simply a jaunt over to see you, in fact. Perhaps we had a decent conversation at the ball, and we might simply want to have tea. You could invite me. Or any other number of excuses. The point is, I am still willing to fight for the best possible outcome to your political situation, and preferably, without the dangers of such subterfuge and smearing.\"\n\n_ _\nAfter all was said and done, he pinched the bridge of his nose with a hand, almost alien-feeling with no gauntlet to cover it. A sigh escaped him as he forced himself to relax. \"I... Please know that I am trying to help you in the best way possible. I do not want to accept the unfortunate reality that my friends are now power hungry, miserly people, but I must, in the end.\"\n\n\"The truth is that even if they are unfit for rule, to the outside world, they must continue to appear in their right minds - and you must appear to be a Proper Choice, made by people who are still of sound judgment. Right now, that is doubtful.\"" } ]	642	6,062
649.888889	2022-08-22	GuildTextChat	[ { "author": "Queen Sierra Seey", "message": "\"You misunderstood\"\n\nShe simply whispers, with a sigh\n\n\"I know just as well that the royal families reputation is important to uphold, and even the slightest damage is self sabotage. \nI was not intending it to be a public letter, instead hoping their respect for you is enough to cause introspection. \nYour suggestion however, I just as valid, if not better. \nI have once again underestimated your willingness to put yourself in the line of fire. \nIf you would personally see to making my grandparents recognize me and give me the political freedom I need, I am more than willing to have you\" \n\nHer demeanor changes. New opportunities are opening themselves up in front of her. \nShe sits up straight, and reaches for the turquoise gemstone, inlaid into her necklace. And with a click has it release from its clasp. \nWith her palm she turns it, and fidgets with it, while speaking\n\n\"I don't know how else to say it, but I envy your position. \nIt occurred to me during the ceremony, but you and I, are very different. \nI was raised a commoner for 160 years. \nYou were raised to be a king for a third of that. \nNaturally, you know more. Have more experiences. Are known by more...\nAnd I'm still oblivious to so much\"\n\nShe trails off, and goes quiet, looking at the gemstone more so than the king in front of her\n\n\"I despise the scheming of my grandmother. \nI want to be open, and confront her and be honest. \nBut she's forcing me to use her own ways against her.\"\n\nWith a quick gesture the gem is back in its place and she reestablishes eye contact\n\n\"Naturally, I expect you to be aware, but what I told you tonight are my perceptions. \nIts quite possible that being confronted by them from this angle will surprise and alienate them from listening. \nSo I will warn you to approach the topic carefully, and with caution. \nAs confident as I am I have to acknowledge the faint possibility that I have manufactured the situation to be more dire than it truly is.\"" }, { "author": "Astalios, Iron King", "message": "Ah. A misunderstanding. She wanted him to write them personally, which was... Less damaging to the public reputation of Findara. It still was a poor substitute for the practice of being present, in his opinion - the tone of a latter was a much different matter than the tone of a voice, and each had its particular subtleties to navigate. The better option, though, was to ensure that he could take in the greatest range of information about this particular topic that he possibly could - and see for himself how far the mighty had fallen in the kingdom of Findara.\n\n\"As I said, Princess.\" His response was a steady and firm thing, the voice of the man like a drumbeat or a low string tone. \"Lesser matters will wait until friends are attended to. Your grandfather happens to be a man I consider a friend, just as Findara and Alynthi have remained not just allies, but friends in word and deed. You need only alert me to whatever is happening in order to requisition my aid, and this matter is like any other.\" He bit his lower lip briefly, considering how to word the advice he was about to give.\n\n\"I... Also do not believe you would doubt my willingness to put myself on the line for an ally had you left Findara for a small while. Reputations are most useful at court, especially when they are earned on the battlefield. It grants a modicum of respect from everyone but curs and sour older veterans, and while the former are not worth bothering with, the latter can be won over with proof that you Are What men say about you. Your actions will dictate it eventually.\"\n\nBut the next part of her talk caught him off guard. She was... Jealous? Jealous of what? Reputations were fine, he thought to himself, but no one talked about the cost one had to incur for them. He had waded through more blood in one battle than she had likely ever seen, watched his men torn apart in front of him and fighting desperately for survival. Lost friends. Even in a victory, there was no perfection.\n\n_ _\nThough his instinct was to become irritated once more, he forced it down, and responded in a more rational manner than his first instinct would have demanded. He needed to keep control at all times. His eyes fell on the gemstone that she held so carefully, as if it was a golden egg that would someday hatch. \"Princess...\" He sighed, running a hand through his hair until it stopped on the crown.\n\n\"Being known is a double-edged sword. My time at war has garnered me recognition, yes - but I was at war since I was a boy of fourteen years. I was raised to rule, yes, but there was precious little time for the important lessons when I was fighting for my life every battle for half my time on this earth. It is I who should envy you. You have lived a lifetime's worth of experience, all without war and death as constant companions. At times...\" His voice lowered to nearly a whisper. \"At times, they are all one tends to think about. I expect that will fade somewhat over the rest of my life, but each battle is a fresh wound.\"\n\nHe regained his composure for the moment slowly, drawing in breath as he considered his options. \"At any rate, I would expect the honesty to be a very favorable trait of yours, Princess. I am not much in the habit of enjoying he company of liars and spies. I will have as much caution as possible with him and your grandmother, as the matter at hand is somewhat delicate. And...\"\n\n\"As a final matter, Princess, may I ask what that gemstone means to you?\" He met her eyes with the curiosity of a natural scientist, simple in a way - a question asked, and an answer to find." }, { "author": "Queen Sierra Seey", "message": "\"I have experience, yes. The experience of a weaver, who works with her hands, and that of a midwife who listens for gossip and knows when to pass it on and to trade it for details that do nothing but entertain the neighbors. I don't envy what you've lost. I envy what you've gained. Call me cynical all you want, but my grandparents passing quietly in their sleep tomorrow would make this entire ordeal a cakewalk. \nAnd I know it's you I'm telling this. \nBut in the words of the only man I ever recognized as worthy of my respect, 'it's better to have loved and lost, than never loved at all'\nThey might be related to me, bound to me by blood. \nBut they might as well be strangers. And by the way they are treating me, they consider me one just as well.\"\n\nShe goes quiet. A finger running over her small gemstone. \nAnd she once again pops open the clasp, and lets it fall into her hand. \nWith a small fling of her wrist she tosses it into the air, and at the zenith of its trajectory, it stops. \nFloating there, in place. \nWith the thumb and pinkie of her left hand, she pinches the tip, and pulls, and the entirety of what appeared to be a gemstone unravels into tiny blue lines. \nAt first gibberish, but soon it reveals itself to be a blueprint of some kind. \nNot a blueprint of anything even remotely mechanical, but magical nature instead. \nShe reaches inside the projection, pulls on one of the strings, and like a guitar string, it vibrates as she lets it go. \nAbove her shoulder, a blue disk appears, hovering an inch away from her skin. \nNo doubt a protective layer that would block a blow aimed at her shoulder.\n\n\"Its a matrix of all the abjuration spells I've cast on myself. A web of connections. 6 years of work. \nThere are enough small enchantments here, to have a coordinated squad of soldiers beat on me for 12 hours without break, and still have a handful of spells left to guard my vital organs. \nBut each of them, a precisely coded spell. A weapon I haven't considered attacking me, might pierce through like there was nothing there at all. \nA blade disguised as a pen, might for all I know pierce every single layer and then my skin. \nA spell is still deadly in most circumstances, especially because i cannot guard myself against only 'fire' it has to be a fiery blade, or a fireball, or an explosion that I protect myself from. Any other element the same. Someone using a root to pierce me, is for the spells purpose different than a stick. \nAny creativity on my enemies part I didn't anticipate can be my end.\nThis 'gemstone' means more to me than anything else in the world\" \n\nAnd having shared her most intimate secret, the blueprint shifts away, and its placed back in her necklace\n\n\"Don't get any ideas. Its only a record of the spells. Losing it would simply mean I have no means of tracking which enchantments are on my person already. I would still be protected\" \n\nHer tone has shift dramatically. Once again returning to cold and demeaning. For a few moments she even sounded like her grandmother. \nAnd there was no doubt, that divulging all the layers of protection she had was presented as a sign of trust. That he would not abuse it. And that she trusted him enough to share it. Considering she had just offended his way of life, what little family meant to her, it might even be considered a way of making that up to him.\nThough her gaze had hardened. Her mouth still. Her features as elvenly alien as they could be" }, { "author": "Astalios, Iron King", "message": "That was more concerning than he had thought. In the moment, all he was reminded of was Delsandra - those eyes burning with madness, the hunger for power clearly evident in them, the cold callousness of a woman who cared little for the lives of those around her shining through. Her words mirrored Sierra's. Those were not the words of a cynic. \n\nThey were the words of a monster - loyal only to her own goals. 'I envy what you've gained'. Power, that was what Sierra wanted. It was sickening - who says that? Who in their right mind would wish death on their family, or imprison them? And for power? Perhaps she thought that he was now loyal to her entirely, or that the man standing in front of her was someone less grounded in the belief that power should not be lusted after, or that one should not wish death on their family, even if they were getting along poorly. \n\nThe world had gone mad, and he could do little to stop it. Was this how a family treated each other in Findara, of all places? A stable kingdom ruled by what he had thought was a wise man? Disgusting. And this was the woman he was supposed to call 'princess', 'queen' and 'ally'. Who spoke of slaying her kin to make her coronation flow easier. His lip curled in sheer displeasure and revilement as she spoke regarding her grandparents, and he hid little of his disdain for the words that had exited her mouth.\n\nIt was all he could take to avoid unveiling his fury and simply expelling her from the room immediately, but that would have been an unfortunate mistake that he would have regretted later. Will against heart, the battle raged within him. How was he to stand there and not make an objection? Yet how was he to say anything without alienating her entirely?\n\nThe worst part of the matter was that he Could not* Ignore her claims that she was being imprisoned. Duty called him to help, and duty was the greatest aspiration of King Astalios. He could not cast it aside in favor of a personal dislike.\n\n_ _\nAnd now she showed him the gemstone. Perhaps it was a memory, a keepsake - but no, she was simply showing him her wards. He memorized the parameters - they did not protect against spells, for the most part, but they were effective against blades. Perhaps the words 'A flood of mercury' did not enter into her imagination. Not many people in the world imagined it until they drowned in the substance. \n\nAny semblance of emotional closeness between them was shattered now as he surveyed her, baffled that she would consider that more than a gesture of trust. What further was there to be gained by showing her defenses? A picture might have been more endearing and more telling of something she held dear, rather than the cold and factual matter of wards. What was she, he wondered, that she was convinced this would be some sort of effective gesture? Did a heart not beat inside her?\n\nBut that was secondary to aiding her, and begrudgingly, he finally nodded his head.* \"It seems, Princess, that we are quite different people.\" He had tried to hold back the venom from his voice, and forge it into passion. Most of the bite was taken out of it.\n\n\"I do not believe you are a cynic, Princess. I believe you hold... Beliefs that I would consider misguided about family. Blood is its own bond, and it should be treated as such. That does not only go for children about their parents - it should work both ways. And Both Of you, you and your grandparents, have violated that bond. They in mistreating you... And you in wishing that they might die in their sleep conveniently so that you might ascend the throne. I... Can understand why you might not place such a high value on family, but one day, when you create your own, you will know what fire your heart ignites as those of your blood are in danger.\"\n\nA long exhale as he tried to hold that fury together, to keep her from seeing it. \"I thank you for your trust. Please consider what it is you wish for carefully.\"" }, { "author": "Queen Sierra Seey", "message": "Sierra saw his disdain for her words. She heard it. Hadn't lied when she said she had ear for gossip.\nHer entire body deflated as the regret of what she had said washed over her\n\n\"I merely stated it would make things easier. I would not genuinely wish death on anyone. \nIf power and the throne was all I wanted, i could have attained it long ago. Compared to my defenses, my grandmother has a paper towel shielding her. \nI could have the power I wanted. With a hundred knifes pointed at my back, lasting all of 2 weeks. \n\nNo, I'm no usurper, nor will I ever be. \nThe reason I am so... Disdainful of this entire situation is a different reason entirely.\" \n\nShe finally has had enough of being the one sitting on the bench while the other looms over her. And gets up, circles astalios and begins stepping through the room as she speaks, the rhythm of her heels accentuating her words\n\n\"You don't realize the pity you inspire in people. What perfect conditions you have taken the throne under. Even I, who barely feels a tinge in my chest at seeing neighbors be killed for missing tax money, shed tears watching you and your sister. You have the sympathy of the people. Because you have proven yourself, certainly, but because they empathize with your misfortune. I thought a coronation should be cause for celebration, but by making it a Tragedy, you've subverted expectations so thoroughly, its an incredible play. The young prince, forced to the throne by necessity. \nNo one would ever accuse you of power hunger.\"\n\n\"Now look at me. \nA person, who no-one knows. I was discovered in Khisfire 6 years ago. On accident. Conveniently. \nThen never again seen by the public. Kept isolated, and unable to form any meaningful political relationships. \nI have so far met none of the ministers that I will be working with in a months time. \nWhen, if even, I take the throne. I will need to prove myself. \nAnd it doesn't help that I intend to betray the intentions of my grandmother.\n\nAs you said, i am set up for failure. Tenfold.\"\n\nShe stops her nervous walk, and returns to center. A deep breath, and her hands are back to resting on her stomach\n\n\"You talk of family. Of creating my own. \nBut even there I have little choice. I must find a high elf man who is around my age, who I can have an offspring with. \nHe will need qualifications, to be a ruler. Preferably be of noble blood in the first place. That pool is incredibly narrow. \nI wish to have a family yes, and having a husband would solidify my position, and give me someone to fall back on. \nNot to mention that I am the last of my line, unless my mother decides to run away with another commoner. \n\nI wish... For simplicity. \n\nTo marry who I wish. To ascend the throne well prepared. To know where I stand. \nBut we rarely get our wishes do we... No, I chose to sacrifice that simplicity when I accepted the offer to come with my grandparents 6 years ago. \nAnd I could not go back, if I wanted to.\n\nThe sooner you can talk to my grandparents, and the sooner We Can convince them of the error of their ways the better. \nDon't mistake my words for affronts. I want to have you as an ally, and prove myself worthy of that honor. I want to aid you in the hundreds of things troubling you just as much. \nBut I will not have an opportunity to do so, if I stand on shaky ground. As you well know\" \n\nShe finishes with a heavy exhale, obviously exhausted from the heavy talking subjects\n\n\"What im saying is... I need to take drastic measures. \nLike talking to you today. Against the express wishes of my grandmother.\nAnd I could not be happier defying her\"" }, { "author": "Astalios, Iron King", "message": "The quiet disdain morphed into open fury as she spoke, outlining him as some sort of mastermind making a play. The prince forced into the throne by necessity. No one would ever accuse him of being power hungry, would they? It was a play for sympathy? The death of his father was a play?* The bubbling rage that had simmered under the iron lid of will threatened to boil over as the gold and silver tiles of the room's mosaics began to morph and twist, rippling and undulating like the scales of some sleeping beast, spikes of gold and silver raising from the floor as if the room itself rejected what was being said within.\n\nThe crown on his head began to morph and twist, spikes in shattering masses beginning to fracture into spines of their own, a monstrous visage to the prince's head at that moment. Had he been wearing his armor, the transformation might have been more apparent, but he was a moment from flying off his leash and simply removing her head from where she stood. The pain that he had forced down, the tears he had kept back, the deep wound of losing his father, the man that had raised him and loved him and sired him, mocked as a clever political play by this heartless... Thing That paced the room before him.\n\nHe clasped his hands together, the knuckles whitening as they bound themselves tightly to prevent any rash action while he spoke. There was no room for error in this situation, not with such a white hot wrath as was boiling within him.\n\n\"You will Never,\" He stated quietly, teeth clenched tightly against each other, grinding themselves into his palate as he beheld the sheer disrespect and audacity of Sierra Seey, a monster pretending to be a woman of some stature.* \"Imply that the death of my father was in any way positive again. I would sooner carve my own heart from my chest than ascend the throne in such circumstances, and the fact that you possess the *Gall* To tell me that I am making some sort of Perfect play Is despicable.\"\n\nAlly. She Dared* To imply that they could ever be allies or friends after her manner of speech to him today? It was as if she was shoving a dagger deeper and deeper into his gut, twisting it with more and more unhinged, callous statements that would throw any man off the precipice of rage.\n\n\"You speak as though your predicaments are unique.\" He hissed, teeth still clenched in anger at the sheer disrespect. If she were a knight, he might duel her on the spot.* \"Tell me of how hard it is to be forced to marry someone you do not love once again, Sierra. You are not the only one who wishes to find someone to truly love. But it is our duty. Leadership is not a boon and a right, something to be reveled in. It is a responsibility, full of the burdens that come with it, and both you and I will need to deal with them.\"\n\nHe drew in breath and let it go, trying desperately to hold on to his self-control as she flaunted the fucking habits she had of trying to circumvent what was respectful. \"I do not *Mistake* Your words. They are *Unmistakable.\" At this final point of her conversation, his voice was shaking with the pure anger that colored his voice, a red haze that had come over his vision as she continued to spew her affronts.\n\n\"If you wanted to have me as an ally, Princess, you might start by Never implying in any way - or even acknowledging the possibility - that I have somehow orchestrated the situation around my father's death in order to gain sympathy.\" Those words escaped him in a hateful snarl, the vitriol no longer hidden.\n\n\"Now, I fulfill my word to you in acknowledgement that I gave you a promise to aid you. I sincerely hope that we do not have a conversation such as this again. I will argue on your damned behalf. I am a man of my word.\" And that ended it. Regardless of how hateful she was, he would hold to his agreements, keep to his contracts. Alynthi needed stability, and rage was not stable." }, { "author": "Queen Sierra Seey", "message": "The very moment the first piece of metal deformed, Sierra held out her hands, and cast a spell. A blue, ethereal bubble formed around the princess, and with it in place, she prepared to cast a spell in return should he ever seriously endanger her. \n\nHer expression changed completely, at first gritting her teeth in preparation for an impact, but as he kept talking, she turned into cornered animal. \nFrom casual conversation, to life or death moment. \n\nShe dismissed the ward she had put in place earlier. \nIf anyone had intended to watch through divination, this they would now see. \n\nEven after he calmed down, she maintained the barrier, and was ready to counterattack, or counteract whatever attack he might fling. \nOnly when he reminded her, or attempted to, that he was still on her side, did she 'relax'. Her hair was wild, and in the turmoil had become messy. But she failed to notice. \nHer gaze betrayed what was going through her head. She was looking at him with the eyes of a maniac. Who could not believe what they were seeing.\nFinally, after a painfully long pause, she replied\n\n\"I have reconsidered. \nI'd rather face my grandparents alone, than let you in my kingdoms walls.\"\n\nShe did not wait for a response. She turned on her heel, and made to leave the room." }, { "author": "Astalios, Iron King", "message": "Astalios's eyes had remained fixed on her throughout, as if the spell barrier was nonexistent, a flimsy film of paper or a fan between them instead of a magical ward that could not be ignored. She at least did not reply with arguments back, to tell him that his feelings on the matter were wrong, that he should be glad the king was dead, that he didn't need him anyway. \n\nWhat a crock of horse dung that she had peddled. And she had shoved it in his face as if she thought it was wisdom. This, he knew, was a tragedy for the long-standing alliance. He wondered if Sarven knew what an inhuman person was pretending to have a heart in the form of his granddaughter.\n\n\"Go, then. But reconsider only this - I am not the monster in this room.\" He stated, force of speech and personality stamping the words into reality with a deep, powerful tone.* \"I loved. I lost. And you implied I played it for my own gain. Would you consider that anger an unreasonable state of mind, Princess?\"\n\nThe words were not as completely vitriolic as the previous rage, but they referenced back the words she had spoken, from 'the only man she had ever recognized worthy of respect'. \"If you do not understand, then you have never truly loved at all.\" \n\nFor there was more than just indignation and rage behind every word - what made them so passionate, so powerful within his mind was pain and loss, the ache of missing the man that had raised him, who had taught him the sword in the courtyard, whose crown he had once accidentally turned to lead. That same crown he now wore, disfigured by the anger of a king mourning the loss. This was, for the first time in so very long, a valve leaking what he kept hidden into the world at large.\n\nA tear welled up in his eye, and then another and another, until his reddened eyes were streaming clear water down his face. The grief he felt was not public, but it could be felt in private here as he let himself sit down on the cushioned chair, head in his hands.\n\n_ _\nHe did not listen to the steps of Sierra as she walked away, but flattened the tiles back down under her feet so that she would not hurt herself, and let the anger of mockery turn to the true sadness of what he had been experiencing, and was now private. \n\nIn heaving sobs, he began to cry in earnest, black cloak falling over his knees and exposing the white underneath as the wreath of the crown returned to its normal shape as well, the branching spines consolidating into the telltale antler-style spiked ring. His chest raised and fell with every cry, the agony of losing his father extracting sorrow from him that he wished he could share with his mother and sister. \n\nBut he had to be strong. Could not show to the world that he was weakened by the events of the coronation, could not stop to mourn for his father without leaving the kingdom to ruin. Could not feel what he felt without inviting attack. And for that matter, he had just made his own situation worse - Findara was such a necessary ally if the world was to remain somewhat unconquered by the slavers of the north and west and east and...\n\nEveryone, really. Even Thyseer was now a question mark with Delsandra's mad captaincy. \n\nHe wept for what had been said, for what he could not say. And stayed in the narthex long after Sierra had left the room." }, { "author": "Queen Sierra Seey", "message": "\"I would consider it unreasonable, yes\"\n\nShe thought to herself as his words echoed behind her\n\n\"You might think you are not the monster in this room. But we very well may both be. And you are right. I haven't loved\"\n\n*But she does not speak anything aloud. Before stepping out of the room, she makes sure she looks at least presentable, fixing her hair, relaxing her deeply furrowed forehead. \nAnd placing her hands back on her stomach. \n\nUntil finally she leaves the king to his emotional prison. \nSierra at least does him the mercy of deflecting any questions, and mentioning he needs a moment to think, though the more savvy and perceptive might notice how troubled she was under the facade. \nSpecifically how she was tapping her heel against the ground nervously whenever she stopped walking. \n\nFinally, quickly, however one calls it, she manages to find her way out of the ball room, and to the" } ]	793	5,849
782.4	2023-04-17	GuildTextChat	[ { "author": "The Tale Weaver", "message": "To say the entire world was abuzz would be a gross understatement.\n\nFor the first time in history, royalty from all the kingdoms would convene together in a single room, at the very heart of Lucidien. Alynthi was the meeting place, and the streets were crowded with Alynthians and foreigners alike, all wanting to see the royalty they had never laid eyes upon. Some wished to see a merfolk up close, like the royalty hailing from Tritetheas. Others wished to see if the Queen of Wolves from Lazaroth was as terrifying as she was beautiful. Many feared the Bear King of the North, while others wished to lay their eyes upon the mysterious sun elves of Khisfire. There were a handful of citizens unnerved at the thought of so much royalty in one place, especially given the known alliances and hostility between them. Nevertheless, it was a time of suspense, mystery, exhilaration and excitement across the kingdoms.\n\nWith this important meeting ready to commence within the hour, the guardsmen had nearly doubled within the Alynthi castle. The wayshrine at its heart was heavily guarded and monitered, and any not invited into the castle's walls would likely be arrested on the spot if they dared to appear from the wayshrine. No one truly knew who would arrive first, but it was a known fact amongst the guard that at least one royal from every kingdom would appear, even the notoriously reserved aasimar of Kara-Tur. While everyone knew what the meeting was about, the bigger question on everyone's mind was what the rulers of the world were going to do with the events that happened at Sorevelle.\n_ _\n\nTerrible visions plagued royalty and nobility alike, and an even more terrifying voice clawed its way into every attendant of Sorevelle's mind. Rumors had spiraled out of control, some more sound than others. The most common however pertained to the Forgotten God, Azmondious. Was he returning? Or was it some other entity or god the mortals did not know of? There was always the possibility of course it was all some sick hoax, but even then the culprit had to be more powerful than even a grandmaster of magic, given Alynthi's was one of the individual's who's mind was bombarded with visions.Alongside the attending royalty, a handful of councilors were expected to attend as well, if only to act as advisors to their kings and queens; or princes and princesses.\n\nIt was quite early in the day. The sun had only peaked over the horizon just under an hour ago, the spring air crisp, clear and chilly. The beautiful gardens that surrounded the wayshrine were thick with dew and of course the sound of shuffling metal armor. At least two dozen royal knights stood watch over the wayshrine, and more lined the route to the meeting wing of the castle where the royalty and nobility would be ushered. Each individual who passed through the wayshrine would be stopped and asked to stand within a circle of truth. Basic questions would be asked, such as confirming who they are. It was a simple but highly effective way of ensuring there were no invaders or spies slipping through the security. No question was too nosy however, just simply confirmations of identity.\n\n_ _\nThe king of the kingdom, Astalios Dilitrios, would be the first face to greet each arrival. For now, he stood alongside his younger sister, who too would greet the arriving royalty and nobility. Once their identity was confirmed, each royal and noble regardless of relationship to the Alynthi crown would be heavily monitored. Any and all weaponry would be confiscated with permission of course, and stored in a heavily guarded and warded armory specifically for the royal and noblemen's weapons." }, { "author": "Astalios, Iron King", "message": "The air felt tangibly heavier, in some way. It was undoubtedly a function of the pressures laid upon his shoulder by hosting this particular summit, but it was there nonetheless. He had arisen in the morning something less than alert, and had to splash cold water onto his face to bring himself to full wakefulness. He needed every sense to be sharp, every finger and toe in place. Tensions were high in the world, he knew, and this would only serve to ratchet them slightly higher. He could only hope that with the threat of such a force laid against them all, they would begin to work together, instead of against each other.\n\nCommon enemies often united the people of the world - when the dragons turned on Leteron, its allies began to pull together, and it was able to destroy the threat before the world was lost. He was certain politics had never been simple, and squabbling lords and princes had always been a plague on the world. Ambition and morality drove them all into conflict. The hearts of the people of the world could not have changed, he thought. They were still the same throughout the ages.\n\nHe inhaled deeply, the morning mist filling his nostrils with the sweet scent of wet grasses and honeysuckle. The courtyard of the wayshrine was set, for the moment, with arches of gold and iron, patterned with the stag's antlers, that made for an outdoor hall, to direct the parties arriving through it into the meeting chamber. There were terms and conditions to read, but none too odious - setting ground rules for a conference would be well within his purview as the host, and any that violated them, no matter how high in station, would be thrown from the premises.\n\nDoubtless, that swaggering child Alyus would be walking through at any moment, eager to puff himself up and impress on the rest of them just how big and powerful he thought he was. He wondered for a moment whether he could throw the man out for behaving like a schoolyard bully.\n\n_ _\nThen there were the other hostile parties - Queen Ashira, for example. She was far more dangerous than Alyus had shown himself to be - with the ability to read the minds of others, he never quite knew how much she was privy to, and her excising of his secret, the war-drums in his head, was quite the feat. He had not quite figured her out, yet - though she spoke as if she could be trusted in some way, there was no guarantee she would keep his secrets. There was much imperative for her to spread them.\n\nIt would not be an easy summit, that was for certain. \n\nThey could prepare as best they could, however. Before the wayshrine, a pavilion was set up, a carpet of black and gold, with seating for the king and his council as they waited. He reclined on the largest of them, the throne, made of seamless black iron to contrast against his suit of armor. It was his usual attire, but where he normally wore simple steel, with the stag sigil of Alynthi made out in transmuted gold on his breastplate, his armor was nor an intricate work of gold, engravings present on every seam and every angle, every border written on in black iron that seemed to blend into the gold without welding or carving.\n\nTransmutation magic, and no doubt - for the king was somewhat famed for his mastery of metals, and this black and gold work of art was resounding proof. The black stag of Alynthi was emblazoned upon the breastplate, and on his head, a circlet of golden antlers for a crown, this one clearly made by the hands of a smith, passed down from generation to generation of Alynthi kings. His eyes were sharp, though they were a muddy brown like silt at the bottom of a pond, and his hair fell in dark waves to his shoulders. He was broadly built, sturdy, and muscular, and his jaw and nose were strong. Ears that were halfway between a point and rounded were hidden in his hair, and he seemed somewhere near a wood elf on the elven side, though undoubtedly a mix.\n\n_ _\nHe glanced to each side of him, surveying his counselors and his family, making sure they appeared ready to receive the parties to come. He needed them to be just as attentive as he was, for the day. Caleesi had been through much, but she was both his mistress of magic and the second of four witnesses needed to discuss the happenings at Sorevelle. They needed to present a strong front to retain control over this meeting..." }, { "author": "Caleesi \| Grandmaster of Magic", "message": "Just before the daybreak of Solaris's rays greeted the horizon, Caleesi was already up and on her feet. It had only been nearly three whole weeks since the incident at Thyseer. The memory of bodies falling and screaming around Lady Scarleth still rattled her soul. Princess Delsandra lifted with a terrifying look on her face as light shot out from her mouth and eyes, Cali herself seizing to the floor, the blood red visions– All of it burned within the back of her mind. After that night within Sorevelle, Caleesi never left her room. At least not for the first week. Sleep had not come to her either, even though, she didn't necessarily need it. Nights spent by firelight proved far more comforting than closing her eyes... Only to be met with the cold chill of snow pinching at her feet, and blood curdling screams that would send poor Cali into a panicked daze. \n\nWith tensions already bubbling within the young woman's chest, Caleesi did her best to swallow the concern that lurched from her throat. She understood better than anyone that there was no room for expressing one's fear. Even more so with a massive summit within her own kingdom. Luckily, Scarleth had many days to prepare herself for this day– And she refused to let her nerves shackle her from succession. \n\nToeing herself towards a large, porcelain white wardrobe, Caleesi retrieved a gown that was one not particularly favored for a woman liked herself; but one she knew was needed to show face and elegant reputation with the matters at hand. A simple garment at best, the apparel Lady Scarleth wore was of pure blinding white. An enclosed vestment that covered her entire body– save for her arms. Around her shoulders laid an elegant cape that outstretched further than the dress itself, gold armored patterns of leaves and other Alynthian symbols danced symmetrically down either side. Across the rib-cage of the gown sat one thin gold band. Cali's iron stag Astalios had gifted her dangling from it on her hip. \n_ _\n\nAlthough the sorceress hated such restrictive clothing, with not much room for her traumatized skin to breathe, she would grin and bear it for this meeting. Looking at herself within the wardrobe's half mirror, she could see the drained expression that beheld her face. Noticeable lines had sunken in around her cheekbones, leaving her lips to sit wearily between a thin framed face. Those dull, hollow eyes were almost gray in the dim light. No trace of the once warm, sunlight hues of ocean blue. Caleesi traced her tongue along the outside of her lips to make them appear less dry– a silent sigh rising in her chest. \n\nShe needed to feed soon.\n\nHow long had it truly been since she had? Caleesi had stopped keeping track ever since the ball. She had noticed the weakened state her body had felt more recently, though, she had brushed it off as the after effects of the visions. Now it appeared her physical appearance was lacking, which was a tell tale sign the vampire needed to feed. Nevertheless, Cali knew there was no time for it. She would have to travel across Alynthian borders to be able to feed– As it was the only way she could keep her secret at bay. With a determined look, Scarleth pulled herself together and headed out to meet King Astalios and the rest of the royal party near the way-shrine. Reminding herself of every step that was needed to keep the peace and order...\n_ _\n\nThe days leading up to now never got much easier truth be told. The grandmaster knew a meeting was essential, however, having to face hard truths with allies and potential enemies? Caleesi found herself unable to process what kind of outcome would hold every kingdom together; or push them further apart. As the high elf arrived at the courtyard, her eyes darted near the rows of seats for the king and his council. Astalios already perched upon his throne with a hardened look deep in his eyes. He certainly had more on his plate than the rest of the Alynthians present. Caleesi herself harboring a sense of guilt for it as well. She had made no effort to console him once the pair came back home. Perhaps it was the obvious fact that she had no place in speaking with a king in such a casual manner– As Cali Was A part of his council. \n\nThe boy she used to know seemed so far removed from the man he was today. Adorned in iron and metals much like a second coat of skin, with a heavy gaze so hardened she could see only herself in its reflection.\nShaking away the unprofessional track in her mind, Lady Scarleth wedged her bottom lip into her mouth with her teeth. By now, Caleesi's mouth was running dry yet again. A faint, staggered breath drew from the she-elf as she shifted into her glistening black and gold like chair. Rotating her shoulders, Cali brought them gracefully behind her back before exhaling. There was an eagerness within Scarleths movements, even with her rather hard solemn stare. She thought anxiously about the many faces that would soon crowd around the round table. Many royals who hadn't experienced such a traumatic event were sure to arrive with questions- and rightfully so. Yet even still, would they choose to believe? \n_ _\n\nThe thought of King Alyus arriving surely put a knot in her stomach, as many tales of the mighty bear king painted him as an enemy of many. However, Caleesi had her thoughts scrambled elsewhere when it came to the soon to be arriving guests. Reigning from the sky kingdom for the first time in years, the anticipation of meeting the angelic rulers left a rather perplexing feeling in her gut. How would they react? Would they be willing to listen? To help? But what of the other kingdoms as well? It was all a blur. \n\nPoised within her seat along with her other council members, Caleesi held a stern, neutral gaze even with all the screaming thoughts running through her head. One final look was given towards the king, and though the two had not spoken a word since that unfateful night, when their eyes interlocked, Lady Scarleth knew what he was silently portraying. It was up to all of them to hold the control here. Now, all that was left was to wait... \n\|\|" }, { "author": "Princess Alora Dilitrios of Alynthi", "message": "Her Grace stood anxiously at the edge of her chamber's balcony. Her mind had been flowing with flurries of worry ever since the appearance of the clawing voice at Sorevelle. \nAlora had awoken hours before the royal meeting due to the series of insomniac events she'd been struggling to fight. What eased her worries were the lush greenery and bitter-sweet scents of the finest flowers the land of Alynthi had to offer. Melting under the influence of soft breeze and lush aromas, Alora's chest plunged forwards as her hands planted onto the railing of the platform she stood on. She pondered if the meeting to start an hour from now would go successfully. She envisioned Astalios appearing quite tense, as well as many guests. It made sense. Multiple kingdoms, one rival to another, were to be gathered in a singular room to bring forth a single decision, which sounded profoundly difficult. As the sun had risen to the midpoint of the sky, it was her signal to head down to the meeting room before the portcullis of the main entrance were risen. The princess stood straight, adjusted her posture, and with a pivot to the heel she elegantly strut indoors.\n\nThe Princess of the Land was dressed in the most extravagant fabrics and materials known to all dwellers. The colours of her kingdom she represented projected pridefully. The heels she wore added to her length, and had her standing tall. Her crown, dazzled with precious rocks, stunned the rays of sun. Limbs and torso dripped with royal jewelry as per dress code. She respected the King's desires, and a significant one that applied specifically to her was following royal conduct and tradition. It only made sense to in a gathering like so, and with all due respect, the princess knelt forwards to the convention.\n\nIn addition, she continued to respect the late King's desire; to bring along his word to the table. Therefore on Alora's right thumb hugged her beloved father's ring.\n\nAs she stepped foot at the entrance, she noticed that her brother, or more formally known as the King, sat with his broad shoulders spread far from one another. His chest seemed solid, as well as his thoughts that mustered within. Alora had noticed Caleesi second, the gorgeous individual who'd she knew well enough to consider as a close friend. The elf's beautiful locks of yellow always struck Alora's eyes, especially when tamed. She sat still with her chest barely visible to be heaving upwards. Lastly she'd noticed the room itself. How eerie it appeared. All the seats that circled in the shape of a union was intimidating. Before she was caught observing far longer than necessary, the princess curtsied and briskly strut forwards to her seat that was situated next to the King himself. Alora was quick to stick her knees and ankles close to one another. Right after she slid her legs back to position them at an angle. Although her legs were not visible beneath her dress, the position of them was, regardless, noticeable to any royal no matter the length of dress. Her hands were placed one over the other more or less to the side. \nFrom this moment on, Alora plastered a look of bitter-sweet mellows. As she awaited for the guests, she stuck thought into her head. On average she had met most, yet there were still some she knew just by name or tale. Her heart raced from within as she recalled the names of the great Kings and Queens of the other lands. Their presence would simply put the table at shock. Not much being left to think about, Alora shut her eyes briefly before reopening. She was ready for any guest to appear." }, { "author": "King Alyus Archaius", "message": "Appearing from the cloud of dark mist from the wayshrine was the King of Gantrick, Alyus Archaius. The dark mist gave way for gold, as the king's apparel came fully into view for those watching each individual appear from the wayshrine. A golden cape lay upon his shoulders, the right decorated with a bear of black steel, roaring and baring its teeth. The lining of his cape was white fur, a clear call to his home and country in the north. Underneath this cape was an intricately decorated and hand-tailored tight-fitting jacket, red, black and gold in color. There was no symbol of Alyus's kingdom upon his chest, as it was resting upon the back of his cloak. Finally, atop the king's golden and long hair was a crown of black steel, matching the bear upon his shoulder and the gloves on his hands. All things considered, he looked both regal but fearsome, though that was his intention.\n\nAlyus was more than aware of the rumors about him. Some feared him, others saw him as an unworthy or unprepared child simply sitting upon a throne because it was thrust upon him. He knew he could prove them wrong, but it would take time. Much more time than he spent hidden away in his castle of snow and stone. A part of Alyus regretted not attending Sorevelle, though he never had. Perhaps he would have seen first hand what this meeting was about, could confirm it being true. While all the details were not entirely clear as of yet, Alyus was skepitcal. This 'prophecy' wasn't entirely sound in Alyus's head, though there was always the real possibility he understood as much as everyone else who was just as confused as he. Additionally, his close ally was there, Queen Dhakashira. If she had a reason to lie to him, than perhaps he'd lose an ally this day.\n\nThen there was the many that looked at him negatively around the world. His only other ally didn't, but the rest of the world either saw a child or a terrifying beast. He wondered if all would attend. Alyus was most curious about Kara-Tur, though their arrival was likely not going to happen. After all, when did the aasimar, aarakocra or mothfolk ever feel inclined to touch the ground? As far as Alyus knew, aasimar currently ruled over the sky kingdom. Perhaps they'd break the tradition today. Another group Alyus was quite curious to see was the merfolk of Tritetheas. Tensions between Lazaroth and the water kingdom were quite high given recent events, but at least this meeting would hopefully put those aside for now. There was an obvious tension in the air itself after all.\n\n_ _\nGazing around at the faces staring back at him, the security wasn't something that came as a surprise to Alyus. The sheer amount of royalty and nobility alike in one room required this much safety and precaution set in place. Alyus brought no reason to be a threat however. Leaving his trusted and enchanted battle ax at home, all he brought was himself and his council. A few faces Alyus did recognize, one being the princess Alora. The Bear King remember just how regal she looked even in morning over her father's passing. Then Alynthi's Grandmistress of Magic, Caleesi Scarleth. As delicate as she was beautiful. Alyus had heard she experienced something similar to Queen Dhakashira. It'd be interesting to hear what she had seen...\n_ _\n\nThe third recognizable face Alyus laid eyes upon was Astalios. Every time their eyes locked it was like steel meeting fire. There was clear but slight animosity in Astalios's eyes every time they spoke to one another. Even though he'd been king for but a fraction of time Alyus had, he still had little respect for the bear king. It reminded Alyus of nothing more than his elder but passed brother, Godwin. Before those memories could seep in, however, the king stepped forward to greet the host of this meeting; Astalios.\n\nAlyus knew not who had arrived before him or if he was the first there. Following behind him through the wayshrine, one by one, were members of his council. Locking eyes with the Iron Stag, Alyus bowed his head in respect. Regardless of their thoughts for one another, tradition was tradition and they were both kings. \"Your majesty.\" Standing up straight once more, Alyus turned to ensure each member of party safely made it through the wayshrine. Once they had, his eyes returned to Astalios. There would of course be immense security, and a zone of truth would not be out of the question. Knowing the possibilities, Alyus refused to allow thoughts of invasive questions being asked into his mind. If the Bear King knew anything about Astalios, it was that he wasn't deceitful. No king in history that ruled over the Alynthi throne had been." }, { "author": "Duke Vasili Golitsin", "message": "Alynthi. A horrid, degenerate country, far too concerned with the frivolities of equality that so plagued the more Southern nations to see the bigger picture. At least, that was Vasili's view. As he and the rest of the Gantrickan Court stepped from out of the Wayshrine, materialising in the courtyard, he couldn't help but flinch slightly, narrowing his eyes at the sudden presence of the sun and a cool breeze, to replace the howling icy gales of his home \n\nBeside him, the infamous Bear King, Alyus Archaius, stood tall and proud, the large golden epaulets bearing the facade of a bear's gaping maw atop his shoulders glistened in the sunlight, the smatterings of light dancing across the golden archways shepherding them towards the meeting - provided they be vetted first, of course. The Alynthian royalty was also there to receive them, Astalios himself in the centre. It took all of Vasili's resolve not to sneer at him, a mongrel playing as a king, some foetid mix between Ursus knows how many different species clad in finery and affectations unbefitting of his origin \n\nVasili himself was dressed lighter than usual, but a ring of jet black fur still lined the cloak he wore, a reminder of his home country, even if it was impractical. He was short, unnervingly so given his abhorrent reputation for cruelty and violence amongst the slaves who he peddled far and wide to Dasvaz, Lazaroth, and Khisfire. A man so minuscule and lacking in physicality bearing such an ill-omened title was never a good sign. Though the scars of his rampant childhood illnesses would never be fully eliminated, they were covered quite well here, the makeup doing its job well\n_ _\n\nHe smiled, piercing eyes raking over the receiving Court as he awaited King Archaius' greeting, his thick mop of wispy grey hair sitting like a deep fog atop his head. At his hip was his family's whip, a lash of deep burgundy, it's jolt detailed in solid gold, inset with dazzling gemstones. A gaudy, flamboyant thing, used for barbarism and depraved acts of violence. Vasili knew it would be confiscated of course, all weapons would be, but he brought it regardless. A statement piece, if ever there was one, that was his reasoning \n\n\"Your majesty, I am Duke Vasili Golitsin of Gantrick, Castellan of Southhallow and Master of Coin, a pleasure to make your acquaintance\"\n\nUnassuming yet surrounded by a constant air of malice and discomfort, that was Vasili's game. Despite the pleasantry, his abject hatred of Alynthi and all it stood for fame through in his eyes, though a smile drew across his visage, if one looked deep enough they'd find the vehement spite and vitriol for the so-called un-pure of this nation, held back by the man's stately obligations" }, { "author": "Astalios, Iron King", "message": "As Alyus entered through the wayshrine, Astalios had to hold back a small smile - while it was somewhat predictable to interact with him, he never disappointed. There was a certain petulance about him, even in the manner of dress, in half-capes and huge pieces of metal. A roaring bear indeed. He kept his face as impassive as it had ever been, however, and rose with the rest of his retinue to greet him properly. There was no time to waste in doing so - and as his arms left the black throne of iron, he waited for the rest of the Gantrick retinue to arrive.\n\nThe creature that entered, however, made all thoughts of smiling quickly exit the current plane of existence. Gantrick was a notoriously difficult neighbor, with its adamant reliance on slavery, and that in itself bred scum and villainy like no other place save Khisfire and Lazaroth. But chief among scum was this low creature they called a duke, with a reputation for cruelty that surpassed even the common nature of slavers, and ventured into exceptionality. A rat indeed. \n\nHe wondered what Alyus was thinking, bringing this piece of filth into his kingdom for a diplomatic mission, but then again, he supposed the childish excuse for a king had not thought of it at all. Retinues were meant to be made of those who could do good diplomatic work, and his presence at the meeting would sour relations already. How had Gantrick not disgusted its neighbors yet or offended them in some way?\n\nYet it was the duty of all of them to remain unwavering and calm throughout this meeting, and he could not sacrifice the summit for one man unfit for any place but the executioner's block. He nodded his head in recognition to the king. Duty, he reminded himself. Always, duty came first.\n\n\"Your Majesty.\" He replied curtly, mouth drawn in a serious line. His eyes slid down to observe the duke briefly before another slight nod in his direction. \"Your Grace. Welcome to Alynthi Castle.\"\n\n_ _\n\"Hand your weapons to the guards, and step into the Circle of Truth before you.\" He gestured down to the circle of truth between them, large enough for one person at a time to step in. \"State your names, and your full intentions in attending this meeting, starting with the phrase 'My full intentions at this meeting are'. Then, when you have stated them, and we find nothing objectionable, you may follow the lining of guards to the chosen meeting chamber. You will be joined shortly by the other diplomatic parties. When all are assembled, we will enter the chamber, and I will open the meeting.\"\n\nThrough it all, his face was as stony as ever, never changing in expression, his voice a deep baritone. Small men, he thought as he observed them both. Both small in the ways that mattered. Perhaps it was the weakest men that did the most damage to the world. They had not the strength to undertake good works." }, { "author": "King Alyus Archaius", "message": "As eager as Alyus knew his Master of Coin was to be rid of Alynthi from the face of the earth, today's proceedings would not be tarnished by hostilities or animosity outside of meeting's entire reason; a threat that could include the entire world. Though, the king knew his council would remain in line. Whether those present saw the king as a child or not, the guillotine was something many back in Gantrick knew Alyus had an affinity for. Or personal executions by the king himself. Where Alyus preferred a swift beheading by sword with ceremony, Alyus instead opted to rip their head from their shoulders with his own monstrous maw. The differences between Alynthi and Gantrick were vast.\n\nThe king had no weapons on his person, made apparent by Alyus raising his hands so his belt was visible and missing any swords or the like. With a few steps the Bear King was at the center of the circle of truth. Looking down at it to admire the magical spell for but a second, Alyus looked up once more to Astalios, who'd brow was as sharp as iron. \"Alyus Cateline Archaius, King of Gantrick. My full intentions at this meeting are to determine whether or not the events that plagued Sorevelle are true or not. Depending on the answer to that, to additionally determine next steps in combatting whatever threat has befell Lucidien.\" The entire time he spoke, Alyus's eyes were focused in on Astalios. Whether the two king's liked it or not, overall they shared a home.\n\n_ _\nAlyus knew Astalios would do anything to protect it, regardless of those who fight alongside him in doing so.\n\nLooking to the individual who cast the spell to ensure his intentions were confirmed, Alyus then stepped from the spell's center and stepped aside to allow his council to do the same. Watching quietly from the side, Alyus could only hope none of his party said anything they'd regret. Like a terrifying omen, the bear king's eyes burned into each Gantrickan councilor that stepped into the circle, like a warning to not besmirch the crown upon his head. Vasili would next, and with the animosity clear in his eyes, Alyus held his breath for but a moment while the duke answered. And so, the king crossed his arms across his broad chest in patience, awaiting to be led to the meeting chamber where he'd likely spend a good few hours of his time." }, { "author": "Duke Vasili Golitsin", "message": "In terms of diplomatic relations, Gantrick was... Subpar, at best. It's only true friendships were born of the slave trade, and though Vasili Golitsin was a wretched beast of a man who orchestrated untold suffering on an international scale, tearing apart families and destroying countless lives, the very thing which made him so abhorrent to most of sound and reasonable mind was what so endeared him to the slavers - and by extensions, the Kingdoms - of Lazaroth, Dasvaz and others. He was Master of Coin for a reason\n\nUpon receiving the instructions, Vasili obliged. He unclasped the deep burgundy whip from his side, handing it gently to the nearest guard. He awaited King Archaius' as he entered the Circle to disclose his intentions, as was only right and proper of a subsidiary to the King, before entering it himself. It was lucky, the formality and security of the event. It, and the dire subject of the meeting itself, substantially reduced the risk of men coming to blows over the political divides of the world\n\n\"My name is Vasili Feodor Golitsin, Duke of Fallholt. My full intentions at this meeting are to assist good King Archaius in ascertaining the cause and truthfulness of the supposed visions which many claimed to have plagued Sorevelle, and how to appropriately respond to both the potential causes and the event itself\"\n_ _\n\nHis accent was thick, thicker even than the Bear King's, the regal drawl of his words exuding self superiority. With both King's eyes upon him, even the multi-generational hatred directed at Alynthi and it's rejection of slavery or acceptance of the lesser beings in this world was stanched from overflowing into a snide comment here or there. The statement about his personal beliefs was already made when he needlessly brought a family heirloom with him, an heirloom quite literally steeped in blood. All his attire, by technicality, was born of slavery, born of the death and destitution of thousands. Even now, as they spoke, hundreds toiled in his mines and fields, deep in the Gantrickan wastes \n\nThough his hatred ran deep, Vasili was no fool, and if there truly was a threat to all Luciden he would not damn his country just to damn Alynthi with it. But should an opportunity arise After Whatever debacle these Sorevelle visions heralded, well, it would be only logical to take it. After his answers were revealed to be truth, he smiled once more, nodding to the Alynthian Court before following the Gantrickan retinue to the meeting room, awaiting the next arrivals" }, { "author": "Prince Dorian Hali Lambros", "message": "Next, emerging from a fog one would see in the early hours of the morning on a beach, came a blue robed figure who's hood and sleeves caught a gentle breeze that ruffled the feathers lining the man's elegant attire. What could be seen if his skin was littered with glistening blue and green scales, while the gills on his neck seemed to gasp for air until he, with a subtle wave of his hand, magically pulled water from a canteen to hold against them so he could breathe normally while two Triton Guards flanked him on either side and his advisors and servants joined him. \n\nWhen he looked up from his feet, Dorian's bright blue eyes swept the crowd of all of the royals and nobility that had already arrived. He had never seen so many land-dwellers before, so while he was in wonder of the different kingdoms that had come before him, the Crown Prince also felt a bit overwhelmed already. He had heard so many stories, and not even a few feet away from him were some of the greatest rulers of his time. \n\nHis eyes went to the Shapeshifters who were closest to Alynthi's king. The Iron Stag _and_ the Bear King? It was like something right out of a story book. But, this wasn't a storybook. What happened, and what brought this meeting together to begin with, would affect all of their Kingdoms whether they liked it or not, his own was no different. It was why he was sent in his parents' stead, so he could take part first hand and take another step on his path to becoming a King himself.\n\nWhen the Gantrick Court moved on, the Mermaid Prince approached Astalios and respectfully removed his feathered hood. As he did so, he bowed his head. \n\n\"Your Majesty. I am Dorian, Crown Prince of Tritetheas. It is an honor.\" He introduced himself, his long wavy hair hiding the anxious look on his face before he raised his head once more. While his people had few ties with Alynthi, they did have a mutual friend in which they both trusted. Dorian knew he had little to worry about while in the Stag King's kingdom, and the thought soothed the Prince's racing heart. \n\nStill, he did wish he could return home as quickly as possible. He wanted nothing more than to dive into the sea with Isla, and swim among the sea life. For now he had a duty to perform, and he would follow through. Many would be surprised to find that the Prince carried no weapons. His great blue bow, the Wavecutter, was not on his back and his staff too was missing. He seemed only to bring his entourage, and a few sets of clothes. Along with him, his companions also respectfully greeted their Host, while the guards saluted." } ]	701.5	7,824
712	2023-04-18	GuildTextChat	[ { "author": "Astalios, Iron King", "message": "As the party from Gantrick slithered past into the meeting chamber, his eyes followed for a brief moment before alighting on much more pleasant company. Prince Dorian of Tritetheas was not a man he had the pleasure of meeting before this summit was called, due to the nature of his kingdom, but they were friendly enough with Tritetheas, and he was somewhat relieved that their relationship had not changed in the turbulent eddies of prophecy and visions. There were so many enemies causing their relationships to suffer that he was exceedingly grateful for good company.\n\nHis own nod of the head was much easier now as he accepted the courtesy of Prince Dorian, reading the the triton with an appraising glance, but not an overly critical eye. Feathers, he wore, and scales. Matching the skin on his body, he expected - the tones of blue and green suited an underwater kingdom, and Astalios found himself facing what he he had prepared for. Though he was somewhat disappointed the king had not come personally, he doubted that was a personal slight - many rulers had their own affairs to tend to, and they had no reason to be malicious.\n\n\"Welcome to Alynthi, Your Highness.\" The voice the answered him was calm and even, a baritone that resonated through the courtyard as if a tuning fork had been pressed to the listener's sternum. His eyes were sharp still, the face impassive as it had been with the Gantrick court, though perhaps slightly less hard around the brow. \"I am King Astalios. We share the honor. My best wishes to His Majesty your father. My guards will collect any weapons brought. Please step into the Circle of Truth, and state your name and full intention in attending this meeting, beginning with the phrase 'My full intentions at this meeting are'. Once that is accomplished, the chamber is along the path lined with guardsmen, who will see you to it.\"\n\n_ _\n\"The other diplomatic parties will join you shortly, and when the full complement of our delegations is assembled, I will join you personally to open the meeting.\" He gestured briefly towards the circle of truth on the floor. \n\nThere was youth in this one, he noted - the hair was not quite enough to hide the feelings of uncertainty from a man who had so recently been raised from the station of prince himself. He had journeyed to Lazaroth and Findara alone, attended parties on behalf of his royal father, and made himself a known figure on the world stage before his ascension. It had been a difficult change from leading armies, and he had felt unequipped. Truth be told, he felt just as unequipped now for the role of king as he had back then. \n\nThe simple difference was that the mantle of kingship was his to hold, and there was none else to take it up if he did not. It was his right and his role now - and when this boy took up the... Crown, he thought, not the sword. When this boy took up the scepter and crown, he too would have to mold himself into a king." }, { "author": "Prince Dorian Hali Lambros", "message": "The young man nodded when Astalios directed him and his group to give up their weapons and have their intentions be read. Of course, the Prince was first. He stepped within the bounds of the magic, and he could feel the slight warmth that the magic gave off. It was almost comforting. \n\nWhen he reached its center he took a breath and looked to his guards as they relinquished their weapons. He understood the king's desire to keep weapons out of his meeting halls, and he was glad that these Triton were the best of the best of the Royal Guard. They handed over tridents, and blades, but even without their weapons they would be formidable foes to anyone that tried to make an attempt on the Crown Prince's life. \n\nHe looked to the caster of the spell, and clasped his hands in front of him. Despite his anxiety, he felt safe, and he wasn't afraid. \n\n\"I am Dorian Hali Lambros, Crown Prince of Tritetheas, and my full intentions at this meeting are to learn more of the threat that faces our kingdoms. So that we may understand and prepare for whatever it is, and so we can potentially set aside our differences and come to an agreement on how to face it.\" He spoke firmly and loud enough for multiple people to hear him this time, his icy blue eyes shifted to the ground in front of him. When they said he was good, he nodded and stepped from the spell circle. Until he returned home, it was just him and his council. The future of the Sea Kingdom was in one place, and while their Prince seemed anxious there was a firmness in his voice. As if he was announcing he would not allow himself to be a pushover already.\n\nAfter his council and Guards passed the King, each greeting him and having their intent measured, the Prince began to follow the steps of Gantrick. His shimmering robes glittering in the light as they bounced with his stride, his jewelry gingling, and the sail on the back of his head and neck glowing with what could be assumed to be pride. \n\nHe silently reminded himself to relay the Stag King's well wishes to his father when he returned to Neptsa, he was sure the other merman would be happy to know of the Land Dwellers' words. For now he walked alongside his council as they made their way to the meeting room, speaking to his servants about retrieving some fresh water for the mermaids in their ranks." }, { "author": "Princess Nala Samir", "message": "Not too late after the wayshrine opened for the royalty of the sea dwellers, a new light would shift within the portal. Much like the sweltering hot sands of the Khisfire deserts, a more moderately warm presence shined its way though. Soon however, a flash of golden light broke the flustered tension in the air, sunlight pouring through each crevice of the beautifully adorned stag mounted shrine. There was a wisp of sound much like softened sand shifting in the wind, until finally a figure would make themselves known by pivoting one foot through the portal. \n\nPrincess Nala Samir was the first to emerge through the wayshrine. The youngest of the Samir family, but by far the most serious in her role as a royal. She had been upholding the throne since her parents' departure, and by the fierce expression on her rather sullen face, Nala had learned a lot through this experience. Not too far behind her trailed the rest of the Samir family, three brothers all guarding around their sister in unison. Many had their fair share about the sun elves from the south, that their kingdom was just as horrible as that of Gantricks. What many failed to realize however, was that the princess herself had different views on how her kingdom could improve. The talk of slaves and theft was a constant nagging in her ears. \n\nNala knew she would likely be judged for the rumors that spread so harshly about her kingdom. Which only furthered her to prove herself to the many attendees that Khisfire Was More than its wavering reputation. While the Kingdom of sun was not made an official enemy to anyone yet, there was still a lingering feeling that no one saw Khisfire as anything more than a breeding ground of crime. Princess Samir wanted nothing more than to prove those thoughts wrong, as her kingdom was a place of beauty and fiery passion and filled with a culture like nowhere else in the world.\n_ _\n\nAs the sun elf settled both her feet firmly on the ground of the courtyard, her rich emerald-sage eyes landed sharply on none other than King Astalios. There was no anger or hatred that filled her strong gaze, however anyone could have assumed that by the way that the princess held herself. She had only heard of the rumors that flowed haphazardly from Thyseer by traveling mouths; most of which the story would change each and every time. As skeptical as it all seemed, Nala knew better than to trust much of anyone, especially that of a neighboring kingdom that showed little to no respect for her own.\n\nNevertheless, it would seem the young woman was gauging the body language of the king. Searching in his eyes for any sign of distrust. It had only ever been the second time Nala had met Astalios, and while the two have never formally spoken- only in passing- She didn't have much yet to form an opinion on him. After a brief moment of observing all of the Alynthian party, Nala took her right leg forwards ever so slightly, pressing her toe into the ground and dipping herself gracefully at the torso as she laid her arm elegantly over her ribcage. With a respectful bow of her head, Samir stood straight once more. The thick, heavy accent of her native tongue playing strongly from her plump lips. \"Your Majesty.\"\n\nDonning a sharp attire of all black, Nala's cape-like gown was slim to fit her curvaceous figure. It was far more different than the clothing she was used to wearing in her own domain, however, the occasion didn't call for show of skin. Golden plates of armor wrapped her shoulders, the scales glistening under the welcoming sunshine of Alynthi skies. Fluttering chains draped from each plate, dangling on an open back of sunkissed skin. Atop of her head lay yet another set of hypnotizing chains and jewels, accustomed to the Khisfirian culture. All of which flowed lavishly with the long, thick twist of her raven braid that swept the floor.\n_ _\n\nHer signature bangles still clung to her hips– making each sway a sound of harmonious melody. Adorned with a heavy centerpiece necklace, it surely made Nala stand out in her silhouette of shadowed black. The princess's crown was one of firelight; a small circlet that held sharp edges and dazzling gems of blazing emerald, much like her eyes. Those hues were the color of new spring growth, bright and soft all at once. There were flecks of strength, of the kind of green that comes only as summer advances.\n\nNo weapons were present on her person, as she knew coming into this meeting there would be a protocol like no other. And while of course the warlock had her powers to rely on, she felt empty without the holsters of her blades. Nevertheless, there was a rather reckless hope that this day would not end in bloodbath. She could sense the high tensions as soon as her foot crept through the wayshrine... Knowing not of who all would be present just yet, Nala tried to compose herself with the means to keep the peace and an open mind. She led with her brothers close by, only accompanying herself with her personal guard, siblings, and a few of her council. Hoping it would show a sign of strength instead of foolishness.. \n\|\|" }, { "author": "Prince Hannibal Samir", "message": "Hannibal finally back in Alynthi puts a smile on his face. It was a strongly welcome break from the sand and parties in Khisfire. Despite his love for his events he does get sick of them. Hannibal concludes he does need a break from the party life in Khisfire, deciding that he wouldn't mind visiting Gantrick one day for example, but wouldn't dare lower himself to a petty traveller. Never the less Hannibal is thankful for this break especially that something is to be talked about the terrifying voice he heard in Thyseer a place Hannibal never wishes to visit again. \n\nYet this whole visit isn't a positive for him. Having to talk about the possible end of the world and all. Not to mention the contention of this half breed claiming to be his elder brother, which is tagging along. Yet this magical appearance of another sibling shocks him, it has greatly improved his opinions of his other old brother Azir, as it can be seen that this half brother has just come to possibly usurp the once establish order of ascension. Yet as Hannibal's personal advisors suggested, he shall keep quite on the matter of the half brother as it displays instability to be mentioning it.\n\nHaving Nala lead the family into Alynthi, does have him a tad hesitant. Hannibal isn't sure this may be to much for his younger sibling, and that Azir should be the one to take the pressure of leading. Or the new eldest despite his illegitimacy. Hannibal just really doesn't want his little sister to be worrying or receive a negative appearance.\n\n.\nHannibal's attire was yet another of extravagance as always. However, unlike every other time he has left his nation for an event this is not in his nation's colours. Being black and white cloth this time, it is still clear of the extravagance of such fabric. Unsurprisingly the white is still spotless. In typical nature his torso is mostly exposed. Wearing a black veil clamped with gold it hids the lower section of his face and down past his neck, leaving his amber eyes looking on. Gold chains line along his body and outfit with the famous orange amethyst planted in the gold occasionally along the chains. For the first time outside of khisfire his tattoo is exposed, a lapis blue wing runs from his shoulder and chest to fingertips yet partially hidden beneath golden bracers. The prince lacked any head pieces aside from the previously mentioned veil. \n\nThe prince had no weapons on him, not expecting things to get dicey, if anything would occur he could surely rely on his magic. Hannibal knows that with the amount of jewellery everyone would be wearing is a deadly mistake in the presents of the Iron King, if things ever get heated. But surely the people here are civilised enough to avoid physical altercations but you never know with the brutish king of Gantrick." } ]	618	2,848
384	2023-04-21	GuildTextChat	[ { "author": "Princess Alithia Zahavi", "message": "As the Findaran Princess stepped through the portal, she smoothed the front plait of her gown to remove phantom creases. In her 45 years of life she had yet to step foot within the walls of the Alynthi Castle. In fact, until recently the expectation was that unless circumstances required she might never. She recalled, quickly, the advice of those past, politicians and scholars who had committed their own skills to paper in the hopes that unfortunate novices such as herself might be able to learn a mimicry of their art. Alithia hoped even a mimicry was feasible. \n\nThere was nothing especially unique or embellished about the entry of the delegation from Findara. The Princess accompanied by her Royal Guard and Commander Halmorn Baughn waited for a few moments as the previous delegation made their way towards the meeting chamber. Her eyes surveyed the room passively in an attempt to put names to faces. Scrolls and novels had been filled with details relating to the occupants of this room, however, in this moment the emphasis needed to remain on the acquisition of new information. Well, acting in accordance with known truths would be a good way to start. \n\nFinally once the path ahead had cleared, the Findarans filled the empty space, the Princess turning to face the King before dipping into a brief, respectful curtsey before resuming her full height. \"Your Majesty,\" She began, voice unwavering despite the roar of blood echoing through the chasms of her head. \"Thank you for inviting us all here today and for hosting this meeting.\" Her eyes remained fixed on the face of the King, unsure if they would be able to return from wandering if she allowed them." }, { "author": "Astalios, Iron King", "message": "Though regrettably, he had never met the princess of Findara, he had definitely spoken with her father - and her brother's death he had felt almost as if it had been his own. Prince Temperance had been his companion on the battlefield - one of the mentors who had been most instructive in teaching him not only how to war, but how to behave as a warrior. There was some resemblance within her now that stirred his memory here and there - the sunlight glinting off those horns of hers, the way her jaw was shaped. Though softer around the edges, it was her brother he saw for a moment. \n\nThe eyes, the hair. Further and further, as he looked upon the princess that dipped into a curtsey before him, he was reminded of the first day he arrived in Dazvaz on his father's orders, and was received by a man as old as he was now. Prince Temperance had aged on the battlefield, and then ceased to age forevermore. Pangs of guilt lanced through the king as surely as if a sword had been slammed into his flesh, and he bent his head, the stern expression softening into something a bit more melancholy.\n\nIt would not do to mention her brother, he reminded himself - he had to stop. No more thoughts of any far-off places or far-off times. Only the here and now was real. He inhaled, exhaled, drew himself together, and prepared himself to formally receive her.\n\n\"Your Highness.\" He spoke quietly, respectfully. \"Welcome to Alynthi. I am honored to receive you. My best wishes to His Majesty your father.\" If the rumors were true, her father too was ailing, and the loss of a father was an experience he did not wish on anyone. \"My guards will collect any weapons brought. If you would, lease step into the Circle of Truth, and state your name and full intention in attending this meeting, beginning with the phrase 'My full intentions at this meeting are'. Once that is accomplished, the chamber is along the path lined with guardsmen, who will see you safely to it.\"" }, { "author": "Princess Alithia Zahavi", "message": "When the King's tone matched her own, Alithia felt the squeezing feeling within her chest lift slightly. It was done, she knew him and he knew her and neither of them were in tears or trailing off script. A small win. There was still actual business to attend to. The zone of truth was a nice touch, she thought, searching the floor for signs of magical boundaries extending beyond the appearance of the circle. These kinds of magic always intrigued the Princess who had invested so much of her time into the study of other magical schools. \n\nRegardless of the magical intrigue, the Princess and her party did as instructed, handing over the few weapons they had brought and stepping forward. They were in the home of a friend, and Alithia truly believed in the strength of the alliance between their two kingdoms. The blood of Findarans was shed beside that of Alynthi warriors on the battle field until only a few years ago. Even she had lost blood to the conflict. \n\nThe King knew this too. Until the letters stopped coming, her brother had always written of the Alynthi Princes' nobility and honor. The stories and anecdotes revealed in those letters were reason enough to trust the man before her. If Temperance would follow him into battle then she would not hesitate to do the same. Luckily they were not at the point of discussing battle yet. Either way, the Princess knew it was time to state her piece. \n\n\"I am Princess Alithia Deianeira Erato Zahavi, Crown Princess of Findara,\" The word Crown Still threatened to catch in her throat every time it was said, \"And my full intentions at this meeting are to understand and learn the nature of the discussed recent events and the ways in which we can all guarantee the wellbeing of our people.\"" } ]	369	1,152
1,181	2023-04-23	GuildTextChat	[ { "author": "Princess Auriel Vivane Praevada", "message": "_As the fateful day approached the youngest of the Praevadas had been busy, though she kept her activities a secret so as to not alert her siblings of her plans. After all they had no way of knowing that she had known of their planned trip down to the land kingdoms, no she had been very careful not to tip them off otherwise there was no way she would have been able to sneak out at the same time they had. Her heart bursting with excitement and curiosity, after all for the most part they tried and succeeded in keeping her cooped up in the castle grounds, a whole new kingdom would be more than a breath of fresh air! She had spent much of the previous days in the castle kitchen, and with some guidance from their top chefs (of which many regarded her a pseudo-apprentice) had managed to whip up a variety of foodstuffs, all tied in some way to Ambrosia. Now the goods were neatly packed away in an ornate basket, shunted into interdimensional space in one of her rings for the journey ahead._\n\n_As it was, she knew she would not be able to slip past Cyrus and Scylla by a long shot. No, those two knew her too well in that regard and could easily intercept her. So carefully she waited, hidden from view near the pillars that surrounded the wayshrine. It was a trick she knew all too well, as most Aasimar couldn't hide behind pillars and columns due to their wings many disregarded them as a place one could hide, luckily for her though she could. As she heard first her brother, then her sister state the location she grinned in excitement, giving only a moment after she was sure her sister had gone through before leaping into action. In a flash the girl leapt and sprinted, slipping past the guards with an ease that spoke of her experience of doing so. Quickly placing her hand on the shrine to what was likely the shocked faces of Lulani and Kress as she uttered the words that would take her away and into the white mist that would transport her to Alynthi._\n\n \n_The sight of the next sibling was a stark contrast to the two that had entered previously, rather than a grand entrance and floating down as her sister and brother had. The girl that appeared was more than a foot shorter than the others and lacked perhaps the most defining trait of the Aasimar, wings. Indeed the appendages seemed to be completely missing from the young woman as she blinked for a moment, a disarming smile on her face as she took in the room. Her own dress was simple as well, a white and cream affair that was modest yet styled just enough that it could be called fashionable as it brushed the floor. She wore one ring on each hand, plain gold bands with the slightest of runes inscribed on them. The only other jewellery she wore was a plain gold necklace with an amulet depicting Kamara and rather then a crown or tiara or even as her sister wore opals in her hair, the woman had a simple gold chain that clipped in just above her ears before looping around the back of her head over the simple braid she wore._\n\n_Now she had to be on her best behaviour, Scy would certainly be mad regardless but upsetting her oldest brother was not what she wanted to do. So she had to remember her edicate lessons as best she could, she could not afford to make a bad impression here after all! Noting the man who was most certainly the King of Alynthi she quickly descended the stairs on her feet like a regular person, her grace natural and bubbling like her personality rather than the poised stiffness that some nobles had. Finally reaching the point where she could properly greet the king she had to stop herself from almost squealing in joy, finally! People she wouldn't have to constantly look up at to talk to!_\n\n \n\"Your Majesty,\" _She said politely as she did her deepest curtsy, after all deeper ones were how one showed more respect right? Well it sounded right to her anyway, so she would continue under the assumption it was._ \"It is a great honour to be invited into your country and your castle.\" _Thinking that was likely long enough spent in the curtsy she straightened up, her pose as relaxed as her smile as she regarded the man before him. Her eyes like her smile were bright and open, white flickering orbs of light that were without any hint of guile as she continued her introduction._ \"I am Princess Auriel Praevada and it is a pleasure beyond words to meet you in person. Perhaps for once I will not have to crane my neck up to actually speak to someone, which I am sure my physician will appreciate.\"\n\n_Oh poop, that part was supposed to be inside her head! No matter how earnest the words were they had slipped out before her filter could catch them. The woman's face showing her own surprise and embarrassment at the slip as she continued, hoping to quickly brush it under the rug as it were, after all this was her first real experieicne having to actually act as a princess and hopefully the King could tell as much._ \"As this is our first official visit, I thought it proper to bring a small token of our thanks for being invited to this unique occasion as well as to your kingdom.\" _With that, a small puff of magic appeared between her hands, now holding a large ornate basket with an exquisite aroma emanating from within._ \" This contains two bottles of Ambrosia wine, a vintage I am told is rather good. A selection of tarts, cakes, pastries and honey all with ties to the same ingredient, all prepared by myself under the guidance of our head chefs.\"\n\n \n\"And for your sisters, a special gift I had commissioned from the Mothfolk smiths of Kir Chult.\" _She continued as two small wooden boxes appeared on top of the basket, each open and containing a single ornate ring set with glittering, glowing stones._ \"I am unable to pronounce what they call the stones exactly, but they are only found on their island. A piece of our lands to show our regard for your own.\"" }, { "author": "Astalios, Iron King", "message": "When the first of the Kara-Tur party entered the castle via the wayshrine, he wondered for a moment what to expect - though the kingdom purported to support the freedoms of others, he could not fathom how it was that they were slightly more receptive to Gantrick and the rest than Alynthi. His kingdom had not fought a war of aggression in thousands of years, they had guaranteed the sovereignty of Thyseer and let Dazvaz become its own nation - all land concessions made to avoid war, and for the right of the people who lived in those nations. \n\nHow, then, was he to take their approach? Blind at best, and hypocritical at worst. They turned a blind eye to slavery, widely, as they owned slaves themselves, and he supposed that was to be expected - Khisfire did much the same. But to preach freedom at the same moment was incomprehensible to him. One could not exist without the other - freedom of the people, freedom of nations. Alynthi had long since supported both, been a leader across the continent in both the rights of citizens and unilateral legal processes. They had ensured the freedom of nations they were under no obligation to release. It mystified him, stuck like a grain of sand under the collar, became a constant irritation. He knew little about the goings-on of Kara-Tur, but whatever was occurring, its effects were not pleasant. \n\nThe boy that stepped through the door first bore the same angelic appearance of his guard Winrae - and the same large stature. Aasimar, he knew, were almost unreal in their physical appearance, and often looked much like they had descended from heaven themselves. Looks could be deceiving - Winrae was certainly no angel, and he had struggled enough to stop her from causing an international incident when her sister had made a decision she disagreed with. No, these were no angels. They were mortal, like the rest of them, and had to be held to the same standard, their appearance disregarded in favor of their actions.\n\n_ _\nAnd in action, as the party emerged, they were much different from one another. First the boy, overeager and accidentally pretentious, bowed deeply, spoke without full decorum. He stared Astalios in the eye as if that was the measure of a man, as if it were supposed to impress him. He did not quite know what to think of the boy - foolish, certainly, but perhaps his intentions were not to offend. Young, he decided. It was the best way to describe him in a word - young, with all the highs and lows of youth.\n\nHis sister, taller than him, with opals braided into her hair, emerged after him to clarify, and she held herself with the expected decorum that suggested either she was the elder or the wiser, though he was in name leading. For a moment, it reminded him of the Khisfirian party. As she clarified the boy's name - Prince Cyrus - Princess Scyllakhalari reminded him of his mistake, and it was evident what had occurred. With so little practice at meetings such as this one, or even contact with the kingdoms beneath the sky, it was inevitable that they would be inexperienced. It was a skillful rescue, for if had been left to his own devices, and not corrected by a member of his party, the infraction would have been much greater.\n\nEach moment fed him further information, and he filed it away as if it were data on a set of alloys in ledgers long forgotten since he had become king. Their relative inexperience made them unknowns in the world of politics, and their very presence was indication of a change...\n\nHis thoughts were interrupted by the appearance of another woman - no, too small in terms of Aasimar for that. She stood nearly even with him, perhaps an inch either way. A girl, it seemed, though she was dressed similarly to the others. She seemed to have similar features, as well, but those wings were absent, and he wondered for a moment whether she was some sort of human before reminding himself that her eyes were solid colors, and she was Aasimar indeed'.\n\n_ _\nWhat had happened to her wings? She curtsied, and suddenly it was apparent that she was another princess - perhaps the second that the boy had spoken of. Auriel was her name - and a basket of gifts within her hands. The word 'ambrosia' lifted his eyebrows for a moment - with what little he did know of the sky kingdom, ambrosia was a forbidden food, only meant for the Aasimar to eat lest they offend the gods. Yet here she was, offering it at their meeting, and it was a powerful gift to make. \n\nThe breaking of patterns, the establishment of new traditions. The rings, too, were beautiful, and such a statement must be answered in kind. He knew the stones as he saw them. Decorum was a sword that swung both ways, and as they made their gestures, so too was he obligated to make his. Though a second prince and an advisor also entered, confusing the numbers the boy had given, that was a small issue at the moment.\n\n\"Your Highnesses.\" He inclined his head politely to the party, speaking slowly but with purpose. \"Welcome to Alynthi.\" His eyes turned to Scyllakhalari. \"It is a small thing, Your Highness, especially in lieu of the rarity of such meetings. You spoke well.\" \n\n\"I thank you for your gifts, Your Highness,\" He addressed Auriel now, eyes fixed on the rings for a moment. Some stone from the mothfolk, she said? No hint of the common metals within them. An itch in his mind wondered what they were made of - if only this was his study! \"The ambrosia is fully appreciated. I know it was not lightly given. The rings, too, are beautiful.\"\n\n\"My guards will collect any gifts and weapons brought. Please step into the Circle of Truth, and state your name and full intention in attending this meeting, beginning with the phrase 'My full intentions at this meeting are'. Once that is accomplished, the chamber is along the path lined with guardsmen, who will see you to it. When all are assembled, I shall join you to open the meeting.\"" }, { "author": "Prince Cyrus Praevada of Kara-Tur", "message": "Kamara, help me.\n\nCryus now had not only made a fool of himself once, but twice in the presence of a king. If his father was here, surely he'd have been sent straight back through the wayshrine. Was it nerves? No, Cyrus wasn't known to be a nervous man, not ever- though with today's proceedings, perhaps it was. Cursing himself a thousand times in his head, Cyrus did his best to hide his woeful thoughts from display, but when his youngest sibling rushed forward out of the wayshrine to present herself to Astalios, Cyrus felt his heart stop for what felt like an eternity. Cyrus has always been a hard man to upset, even when his was a baby. Their mother had always said he was quietest of all her children, never fussy, never crying. But the look on Cyrus's face was unmistakable; pure disappointment and irritation.\n\nStaring holes into the back of Auriel's head, Cyrus gave his twin a look of dismay before looking back at the interaction between the princess and Astalios. She had brought gifts for him, something Cyrus would surely appreciate later, but now he was more than embarrassed of this entire interaction. Lulani closely followed Auriel, leaving Cyrus's mind in an irritated spiral. First, he forgot his name. Then, Scylla had to introduce him. Now, he had practically lied to the king of Alynthi about how many would be with him. Praying to Viviana, Kamara, Ora- anyone would offer guidance and calm to this situation, Cyrus watched Auriel like an eagle watching prey. Normally, Cyrus would shoo things like this to the side, understanding that Auriel was young and mistakes her normal. But today of all days?\n\n_ _\nScylla would surely get to Auriel long before Cyrus would, most likely after today's meeting. Auriel would not go unpunished, that would be certain. Nevertheless, Cyrus did mentally commend his youngest sister for her wit about bringing such lavish gifts for the royalty of Alynthi. It very well may have saved Cyrus from certain doom- at least in terms of embarrassment. Eyeing the other Alynthians watching them, Cyrus's eyes settled upon the two princesses of Alynthi, though he did not know their names. There was a third woman with them, though Cyrus did not know if she was another Alynthian princess he had not read of or if she was a simple noble. Nevertheless, the prince's focus returned to Astalios when he addressed the Kara-Tur party as a whole.\n\nCyrus would be first to step up to the circle of truth, though he first removed his sword still in its sheathe and gave it to the receiving guard, offering a nod in respect to them as he did. Once his sword had been taken, the high prince turned to King Astalios and stepped within the circle of truth before answering the asked questions. \"I am Cyrus Praevada, High Prince of Kara-Tur. My full intentions of this meeting are to gain a better understanding of the grave matters and potential threat reported in Thyseer during the Sorevelle festival, create a rapport with the other kingdoms should this threat prove true and real, and come up with a solution to combat or nullify this threat immediately. Additionally, as I cannot lie, see the land kingdoms for more than what we've read in the history books back in Kara-Tur.\" Finishing his introduction, Cyrus moved out of the way to allow his siblings their own turn.\n\n_ _\nAll Cyrus could think of were the implications of his actions only a few moments ago, but with a gentle inhale, the prince remembered what he had taught himself over and over again. Fate will be, as fate will be. If it is Viviana's will that King Astalios sees Cyrus as nothing more than an idiot tripping over his own words- so be it. Gazing around idly, the prince's eyes once more fell upon the two Alynthian princesses, most notably the taller of the two- with emerald green eyes. Offering a deep nod in her direction as a sign of respect, Cyrus held his tongue so as not to interrupt his siblings speaking to the king. Still his eyes remained gently stuck on the princess. It was silent admiration, though the last thing Cyrus needed after the last five minutes was to seem like a creep, staring at a princess in what could have been seen in an unsavory way.\n\nStill, Cyrus offered a gentle smile the princess's way for the last time, looking away for good afterwards." } ]	1,267	3,543
792.75	2023-04-25	GuildTextChat	[ { "author": "Scyllakhalari Preavada", "message": "Scylla had not been looking towards the king or the wayshirine when her youngest sister materialized from the mist of the portal. Her gaze had drifted to the other princesses in the room and to the room itself. The architecture itself was new to her, the people, and the accents. She'd heard travellers speak with the rules of their language in hers, but she'd never been surrounded by odd tongues. When she was Auriel Scylla ceased to breath, as if holding her breath could freeze the moment before the young aasimar could wreck it. Immediately the princess felt dread, the pit of her stomach cemented and her neck and cheeks radiated heat. Her copper eyes trained on the king but her face had not changed from it's amicable mask. She waited for her sister to fail, it had been trained into her at this point. There had been a point in time where she'd held hope for the girl, even patience to endure Auriel's thoughtless nature; now she just expected disappointment. To her surprise her sister wasn't the bull in a china shop Scylla had come to expect, she'd done well. The older princess felt the heat in her face leave, but her body refused to relax it was only a matter of time before the younger girl messed up. In that moment she felt pride, but the other shoe would drop soon enough.\n\nWhen Auriel presented the king with ambrosia Scylla nearly opened her mouth to protest. Ambrosia was sacred, a fruit presented to her kingdom by the gods meant for them alone and the conflict stirred inside her. Tradition and conditioning from her childhood made sharing such a thing with outsiders feel wrong, it pushed her to act and instead she bit her tongue and stayed in place. Her better judgment held her mouth closed and her feet to the spot she stood. It was not just to keep something to themselves, and sharing it was a gesture of respect. Though these people had in fact done nothing as of yet to deserve such a gesture.\n\nAll people deserved respect of course, until they proved otherwise; this offering her sister presented King Astalios showed far more respect than he deserved at this point. If he proved unworthy of such a gesture she'd set things right, as The Sword of Kamara it was her duty and Scylla would happily fulfill her purpose.\n\nWhen Astalios addressed her Scylla dipped her head in acknowledgment and proceeded into the circle when Cyrus had finished. Standing in the circle she began as the king had requested, \"I am Scyllakhalari Preavada, Princess of Kara-tur and Sword of Kamara. My full intentions at this meeting are...\" She paused to give the statement thought and to choose her words carefully \"My full intentions at this meeting are to understand this supposed threat that was made known at the Sorvelle festival and to gain an insight on how best to proceed with Kara-tur's relations with the land kingdoms\" That felt true enough as the words left her lips. She stepped out of the circle and began to follow her twin away catching his long look at the princesses of which she followed and appraised them briefly herself. Scylla did not leave though, instead she paused to observe her sister's response in the circle." }, { "author": "Princess Auriel Vivane Praevada", "message": "_For sure the girl knew her arrival would likely draw the ire of her siblings, especially that of her elder ones. Yet the sheer intensity of the stare she felt on the back of her head was more than she could have ever expected, for sure she would be in for it later but as long as there were others around hopefully any punishment would wait until they were back on the other side of the wayshrine. Keeping her expression as cheerfully open as she could given the situation she eagerly glanced around, taking in the strange architecture, the guards and the princesses.Everything was just so Different To Kara-Tur, it was new and exciting and all rather grand in her opinion._ \n\n_Walking over to the guards she presented the basket of gifts gracefully, offering a charming smile as she almost went to continue before she started, snapping a finger as if suddenly remembering for in truth she had almost forgotten the weapons she took almost everywhere. Her smile was a little sheepish as she turned back to the guards before fiddling with a ring on her other hand, with that a set of ten large metallic rings appeared in her hands, engraved with jade and golden runes as she presented them with a small 'sorry' to the guards. Curiously if the guard took them they would find they were much heavier then they initially looked with the slim figured woman holding them easily, each ring weighed about a kilogram for a total of ten kilos of weight that she passed off without a second thought._\n\n \n_She barely had enough time to think as she approached the circle, blinking as she mentally recited the words the king had told her to start with, gods above she was nervous. Remembering things word for word when they were told verbally had never been her strong suit, even on paper she tended to mess up the orders of words when trying to read from them, it wasn't her fault the letters always moved on their own! However she had to do this, she had to get it right - so firmly she stood and took a breath. Offering a silent prayer to Ora and Gritka to make her words right as she spoke, her brow slightly narrowed as she spoke her answer._\n\n\"I am Princess Auriel Vivianne Praevada of Kara-Tur, my full intentions at this meeting are as follows. To support my siblings in their investigations into the happenings and potential threat towards us all that occurred at the Sorevelle festival in the Kingdom of Thyseer. Further it is my personal desire to see the land kingdoms with my own eyes and support my family in making the best first impression in our visit and in forging friendships and alliances with the kingdoms our people have ignored for so long, and to also help my siblings personally make good impressions as people because well... We are not all people... People? I'm not sure that makes sense, but anyway I think that's everything... Also I was really curious about these lands because well... I don't get out much... Wow these circles really work don't they?\"\n\n \n_She looked down at the circle in a little awe as she trailed off somewhat, blinking in surprise as she moved off to join her siblings, offering a silent 'sorry' and an apologetic shrug as she waited for the rest of their party to follow suit. Sue she had said a lot, but it was all the truth and she didn't think it was Too Bad. At least she hoped not, it was hard to be sure as she was busy looking around with her eyes. Taking in all the sights as she stood just a little away from the older Aasimar, her eyes flicking between her brothers and the princess in question as she barely managed to contain a smirk. Not many grabbed his attention like that, but curiously this one seemed to - a fact she would store away for later use._" }, { "author": "Astalios, Iron King", "message": "All was not entirely well upon the floating islands, he gathered. As the princess's brother caught sight of her, his expression said much that was not spoken. Perhaps he had disapproved in some way. If that was the case, there was certainly no indication the same could be said of her sister. Princess Scyllakhalari's expression was unmoving, as if nothing particularly unusual had happened. There was some discord here, he thought, between them, though he could draw few conclusions about what the root cause happened to be. \n\nAt least their plans at this meeting were in line with the rest of them, and as Prince Cyrus spoke his intentions, he was again reminded that they came from a world much different than that of the large majority of the continent. Princess Scyllakhalari's gaze at the area behind him reminded him that castles were no use in defense against a force that could land inside the walls, and he had to imagine that tunnels and caves upon the sky islands were much better defenses. In a way, this trip was more than simply an emergency meeting. For them, it was a chance to explore. \n\nOf course, that was not the main purpose - and during the meeting, he would brook no mention of anything but the current topic - but when it was concluded, in return for the ambrosia, perhaps he could arrange a few books as a parting gift - a collection of encyclopedias of flora and fauna. Even a description of notable natural wonders would serve. He could not let his mind stray from the topic, however, and as the tall princess stepped into and out of the circle of truth, he was faced with another reality - that they were being judged just as surely as they were judging the Kara-Tur party, and this was only a first step in the greater sphere of politics. \n\nThe weapons offered to his guards on the third sister's part were most curious - he had to assume they were magical, for the density of the metal was much higher than he had anticipated.\n\n_ _\nHe could sense the gold that contributed to their color, iron, lead, and another metal he could not perceive. Perhaps zinc, he thought. It would be well suited to alloying with iron, though he could not quite fathom why the other materials were present. He had, in his years at the Alchemical Association, done much of the research on the strengths of such alloys, but there was nothing he could discern about this particular mixture that might be useful save for its weight. Curious indeed. Perhaps they were akin to training weights.\n\nAs she stepped into the circle, and began to speak, he was reminded of the efficacy of a Circle of Truth, for not only had he asked her to speak her intentions, but to speak her Full* Intentions. The resulting ramble was proof that the spells were active, and for that he was grateful. Forging friendships and alliances, helping her siblings to make good impressions... It was all spoken as if this was a large party, and not a meeting about a threat that had invaded the minds of the royalty present, shown him a vision, forced him to consider speaking to... \n\nTake up the sword. The words Anthron had spoken to him when his vision had ended echoed within his mind now as a memory. He restrained himself from a shiver. Strength, he told himself. What the world needed to see was strength. How else would he be able to convince them to unite? They needed to pull together.\n\n_ _\n\"...Before you go, Your Highnesses.\" He spoke quietly and calmly to Princess Auriel, though nominally to the others as well, a somber tone to his voice.* \"It is heartening to hear your intentions here. I cannot promise, however, that the conversation will be pleasant. Nor can I promise sightseeing. It is not a happy occasion that I have called this meeting to discuss. Please accept my apologies on that account, and my thanks that you have chosen to attend. Perhaps on another occasion, when this situation has been dealt with, we may satisfy more of your wishes to see the land kingdoms.\"\n\nAs the guards led the Kara-Tur party onward, he found himself returning to thoughts of the night, the eye of terror in the sky, the collapse of Caleesi, the awkward dance that had preceded it. His gaze briefly flickered towards his Mistress of Magic. She stood normally for the moment, presenting herself as any other minister, but she had experienced the horrors of that night as much as any of them. He was still unaware of the reason the visions had locked her into them for longer. An uneasy feeling picked at him - the unknown was never comfortable. With knowledge came the ability to form a plan of action, but they had been able to gather slim to none...\n\nNot to mention that his secret had been finally found out, and the queen that had done so was no one he trusted. A disaster, he decided, returning his eyes to the wayshrine. But this was their way to remedy that." }, { "author": "Queen Dhakashira Runacri \| Matriarch of Wolves", "message": "A flash of black shot from the wayshrine, dividing upon its arrival into a pair of ravens. They circled several times, each repetition of the movement pushing them nearer the courtyard's borders. The grounds were thoroughly scrutinized, the bird's gaze raking over every face and flower from above. With the area sufficiently scouted they barked out a harsh caw in unison, returning to the gateway of their origin to flank their arriving master. \n\nFrom the wayshrine emerged the queen of Lazaroth, attended by her Master of Laws and Spy Master. They perhaps seemed an unlikely choice, especially considering Recent events, but both were trusted and capable in such a setting. Dhakashira lacked the guard escort of other royals, whether this was due to confidence in herself or in their host was left to be interpreted by others.\n\nHer attire was as dark as the wings of her feathered companions, and carefully embroidered with silver thread that mimicked the markings on her skin. It was as though she were enveloped by the night sky itself, adorned with its many constellations. Her golden gaze slid slowly over Alynthi's royalty and representatives, finally resting on their king. Her head dipped, hair spilling over bare shoulders, as she greeted him.\n_ _\n\n\"Your Majesty,\" When her chin rose Dhakashira's eyes were fixed on those of increasingly familiar brown, searching, seeking answers to questions usually answered by her magic. Out of respect she did not release the tendrils of her intuitive sorcery, did not permit them to brush the outer limits of his mind and relay every inkling of emotion, \"I can only imagine the immense pressure placed on all of you to host an event of this magnitude, you have our sincerest gratitude for taking on the task.\" Ensuring the safety and comfort of all those arriving was no small feat, but she was confident in Alynthi's ability to do so. Though it was difficult to shake the nagging worry that their minds would be penetrated once more, it seemed none could prevent it, yet.\n\nShe was pleased to see the Iron King, it allowed an opportunity to share information outside of the written words they'd exchanged since Sorevelle. Some things were better expressed in person, and others best left out of correspondence that had the potential for being intercepted. \n\nQuite familiar with zones of truth she was quick to recognize the one set before her and its purpose. Queen Runacri stepped forward with no hint of hesitation, looking to the king as she awaited further instruction. The Matriarch of Wolves was far less feral than his people had likely imagined. These events demanded decorum, and she would act accordingly. Though upon her arrival home it would be like slipping off an article of clothing that was much too tight, a relief to revert to her less dignified nature. As she stood before him the dark elf dismissed her scouts with a subtle movement of her hand. The birds were snuffed out, leaving nothing more than small, billowing clouds of shadow that would soon dissipate. \n_ _" }, { "author": "Corinthian, The Cruel Lord", "message": "As the beautiful Mother of Wolves stepped from the portal, another large cloud of menacing black fog would rise up behind her, making way for her Real Crows. Slithering out of the wayshrine like his pet snake that accompanied him was none other than Corinthian, The Cruel Lord and Spy Master of Lazaroth. Azazar sweeped beside him in a hissing fashion, her long and massive form almost the size of a beastwalker. Nevertheless, the obsidian reptile kept her place beside her master, eyeing the crowd with a cold and venomous gaze. She was no threat to anyone though, not unless the high lord wished her to.\n\nCorinthian himself was far more calm and collected than he had been the night of Thyseers horrific tragedy. What once was a ruthless, vengeful, and careless Councilor– Now stood a reserved and alert member of his kingdom. Corin's hands held one another tightly behind his back as he strode in behind his queen, the pits of his black eyes floating carefully around the courtyard; if only examining every inch of detail Alynthi provided. Naturally, the darklings gaze would fall back onto Ashira– his mind recalling the night of her Almost Untimely demise. \n\nHow he called for her in a heap of fear and panic. Oh, how he hated that feeling. Looking over her features here in the gentle winds of morning dusk, Dhakashira seemed as radiant and alive as ever; almost as if she was never fazed in recent events. A flicker of worry pinched at the half elf's temples, the ache in his shoulder still faint, yet a constant reminder that the two of them could have easily met their fate... Locking his jaw in an attempt to wash away any sidetracking thoughts he knew Ashira could easily delve into, Corinthian remained sharp and alert. His face masked in a serious deadpan.\n_ _\n\nThe Cruel Lords attire mirrored the queens in elegance and style. Just like the crows that disbursed before them, a thick layer of jet black feathers lined Corinthians shoulders; the tufts of the hand sewn fabric aligning each point upwards to express the male's long, broad figure. Upon his chest lay two layers of the finest garments in Lazaroth. Suited in all black, Corins undershirt mimicked that of a sun elf waltzing in the sand. Its loosely fitted sleeves puffed towards the wrists, whilst every other inch cinched inwards to create the dazzling figure of the high lord's form. Atop the rather revealing piece however, was a black vest; light gray swirls and symbols embedded in the stitching that represented his kingdom decorated along the front. \n\nAs Corinthian made his way closer towards the front of the group, taking in each face that greeted him, only two stood out so prominently. Caleesi Scarleth stood at a distance– Like the golden magic that swirled softly in his eyes, her blonde hair was every hue from white-spun sun to golden browns, all married into long flowing locks. While the counselor had little to no information about the woman, just that she had meant a great deal to Lysanthir– There was no doubt her beauty and grace could entangle you in. It took a great deal of restraint for Corinthian to not shift his gaze towards the vampire beside him. As he was sure Lysanthir was no doubt sinking his teeth into the presence of her alone. Nevertheless, he pushed on from the woman and set his sights towards the host, king Astalios. \n_ _\n\nThere was always something about the newly found king that set the darkling on edge. Perhaps it was the jagged stone expression of pure emptiness that sat upon his face, or maybe the idea that he truly didn't care about anyone or anything. Alas, that would be decided by the end of this meeting no less. Corin knew the gathering was about the visions, and while he knew them all to be true, the thought of holding each kingdom together long enough to show that fact did put a chaotic pep in his step. \n\nA small, wry smirk peaked the edges of the high lord's lips as the king's cold gaze collided with his own. Looping his arm across his chest in formal respect, Corinthian bowed lowly. Soft jingles from the many rows of golden chains and jewels that decorated his elven ears chimed as he lifted his head forwards– locking those black orbs into a pool of muddy brown. \"Your Majesty,\" The darkling crooned, his tone low and sharp. As Corin stood upright, he ran a hand through the front of his hair. Wavy black curls fell into place around the golden half laurel circlet he always wore, each pattern of leaves shining under inky tresses. \"It is truly a pleasure to be here...\" \n\|\|" }, { "author": "Lysanthir Tauriel Olagwyen, Master of Laws \| Lazaroth", "message": "The final form to emerge from the inky-black wayshrine was the tallest figure of the group and eldest; Lord Lysanthir Tauriel Olagwyen, Lazaroth's Master of Laws. While his appearance wasn't nearly as elaborate as that of the queen's or Spymaster's, his presence was enough to convey the very same, chilling feelings. After all, he was quite literally a dead man walking. It only took mere milliseconds for Lysanthir to get a look around the courtyard, study every face and understand who could be potential threats and who were not. His eyes of icy blue didn't even look as though they had moved all that much to the average eye; one of the perks of being an undead blood-drinker. Lysanthir's gaze fell fully on Astalios first, and without hesitation the vampire offered a deep bow in his direction, followed by a simple greeting as his long blonde hair fell forwards.\n\n\"Your majesty.\" Standing upright once more, Lysanthir watched in silence as Dhakashira spoke, but was quick to realize she was standing within a Circle of Truth. Understanding the matters ahead, Lysanthir respected Astalios's desire to be secure and sure all would go well. Even in Lysanthir's hundreds and hundreds of years, there had never been a summit involving every royal party from every corner of the world. There were unfamiliar smells in the air, something sickly sweet like wine, perhaps even tarts? Turning his gaze towards the path leading to where the summit would likely fully take place, Lysanthir was surprised to see tall pairs of wings rounding the corner. Kara-Tur must have accepted the invitation after all. What a historic day, though it wasn't as if it was Lysanthir's first.\n\n_ _\nDressed in both elaborate but simple armor, Lysanthir was wearing something he had worn many times before. Silver in color, the armor was as beautiful as one might expect, but obviously from a time long ago. Twin pauldrons rest upon his shoulders, slowly dipping down in layers of armored plates. The pauldrons clasped onto his shoulders also held a long cape flowing down Lysanthir's back, a slightly darker gray to the rest of the armor, but blood red on the inside. The chest piece's filigree danced up Lysanthir's form, both sides perfectly identically mirrored to the other. On his arms and wrists were guards, decorated similarly to the front of his chest piece, though his hands were only covered in black gloves. On his lower half were simple gray pants, followed quickly by tall armored boots once again matching his chest piece.\n\nThe final noteworthy piece upon Lysanthir's form was the circlet that wrapped around his head. Starting thicker from the back, each side that wrapped around his head gradually grew thinner before coming to a final point at the center of his forehead and hairline, decorated with a sky blue centerpiece. With such an appearance, one might assume Lysanthir was armed as well, but this was not the case. In fact, he felt almost naked without his twin blades at his sides, but knowing Astalios as little as he did, Lysanthir just knew weapons would inevitably be confiscated. It was best to come with the assumption things would be peaceful amongst the attendants as well, right?\n\n_ _\nFor but a flicker, Lysanthir's eyes fell upon a face he had seen when he first exited the wayshrine; Caleesi. For the fleeting second he looked upon her, Lysanthir took note of the worry in her eyes, though that was to be expected. Today's summit wasn't exactly for celebration or joy. It was a time of uncertainty, a feeling Lysanthir figured hardly any of the royalty present were familiar with, save for perhaps Astalios given how quickly he became king. Nevertheless, Lysanthir remained still beside Corinthian and the blasted snake he felt the need to bring. There was a spiteful part of Lysanthir that wished and hoped the king would forbid the beast from entering the meeting room, but Corinthian could prove to be quite a stubborn and unruly toddler at the best of times. Now was not the time for one of his tantrums.\n\nFrom the time the letter arrived inviting Queen Dhakashira to the summit to the moment Lysanthir stepped out of the wayshrine, the vampire had little time to reflect on the possibilities of what could have taken place during Sorevelle. It was a funny thing to Lysanthir, living forever but running out of time..." }, { "author": "Astalios, Iron King", "message": "The ravens appearing through the wayshrine, he thought, was an intelligent touch - just as he was prepared to receive combatants, she made sure that she was not caught unawares by any trap he could set. There was no arrogance about her, he thought - and that made her all the more dangerous. It was one thing to deal with an incompetent enemy, and quite another to deal with a sensible one. That information was filed away neatly for the moment - ravens, he thought. One could never be too careful with ravens, now. \n\nWhen the queen appeared, however, he was somewhat disgusted to see that she had brought both of her creatures with her. From their conversations, she had at least seemed reasonable, but considering the debacle at Sorevelle, he had thought that both of them might have been left behind. It was unlikely that she did not know what she was doing here - and therefore, he also had to wonder what purpose she could possibly have in bringing them other than to make a show of some kind.\n\nHer dress was a new design, thankfully - wearing a golden ribcage full of hollowed out spaces for bones was not a particularly good message to send at a peace conference, nor was it a particularly good choice for a ball. It was, he had to admit, stunning needle-work, and the silver thread, along with her general features, went together well. A coordinated appearance. Her eyes moved slowly until they fixed on his, perhaps a reminder of the knowledge she was privy to.\n\nIt chilled him to the bone, in a way - trust was such a frightening burden to place on a stranger, and with the beginning of his reign being as it was, he had not even trusted his advisors for as long as he could see them. At least he had audited their incomes and gotten to know them better - this queen was still much unknown, and what he did know of her did not bode well, save for the fact that she seemed reasonable in all but her choice of councilors.\n\n_ _\nA snake slithered in besides the second form to emerge from the wayshrine, and his eyes flickered down to it for the moment. Familiars were all the rage in many places, and though he had none, he could understand the utility - a second pair of eyes, a weapon if need be, a body to throw at the enemy while you made your escape. It was almost as slippery as the man it followed, clad in tufts of puffed black fabric, smirking like a petulant child. There was something about the expression on his face - the suggestion of a smirk on anyone's face, really - that ground against his temper. Self-satisfied superiority. The tone of his voice was too oily for it to be anything else. \n\nThen the third member of the party emerged, and the king resisted the urge to pull his upper lip into a snarl of disgust, keeping his face as stern as it had been. Since Sorevelle and Thunder Fest, he had been quite convinced he had seen enough of what passed for a Master of Laws, this crooked creature who had not proven himself capable of behaving with even the most basic of boundaries. At the latter festival, he had cornered his Mistress of Magic during the fireworks, reminded her perhaps forcibly of her parents' death. He still had little idea what she had been thinking when he continued to make advances at Sorevelle.\n\nThey bowed and made proper homage, these creatures that the queen had brought, but he was unlikely to forget their behavior soon. Cold were his eyes, as unmoving steel.\n\n\"Your Majesty. Welcome to Alynthi. My thanks for your kind words.\" He inclined his head in return, tone controlled, but as respectful as he could muster given the subjects in front of him. \"Your Graces. My guards will collect any weapons brought. Dismiss any familiars or animals, as they will not be needed within the meeting.\"\n\n_ _\n\"Please step into the Circle of Truth, and state your name and full intention in attending this meeting, beginning with the phrase 'My full intentions at this meeting are'. Once that is accomplished, the chamber is along the path lined with guardsmen, who will see you to it.\"" }, { "author": "Queen Dhakashira Runacri \| Matriarch of Wolves", "message": "No amount of magic was required to detect his displeasure upon the arrival of her companions. She would not waste their time or lower herself to the point of offering explanations, the choice had been made. Few others could be trusted with her own secret, or the burden of ensuring she did not endanger the life of herself or those gathered. The Hym possessed queen had gained excellent control of her unwelcome companion, but in times such as these she could not risk even a minimal mistake. The reassurance of her councilors' presence and combined skills were worth the dissatisfaction of others. \n\nShe acknowledged what was asked of them with a swift nod, briefly spreading her arms in a display of openness, \"There are no weapons on my person,\" Both due to her inclination toward summoning and his expected precautions, \"I am Queen Dhakashira Runacri of Lazaroth, my full intentions at this meeting are to thoroughly investigate the events that occurred at Sorevelle, as well as assess relationships between kingdoms and determine how we will face our shared enemy.\" She could be speaking of either unwelcome invader, the one that forced visions upon them or that which plagued Astalios himself. The simple statement ensured her honesty, keeping secret her desire to further explore his unusual connection from all but the king himself. He would likely piece together both intended meanings. Perhaps some hope of freeing him and herself drove the woman's interest.\n\nStepping aside she settled at the path's start, to either be summoned back to the circle of truth for further questioning or await the answers of her own people. Her head was held high, shoulders pulled back while she observed those who accompanied the king. Her gaze lingered on the Grandmistress of Magic, a new curiosity creeping over her. One that would be suppressed until the day's end, at the very least. She cast a look toward the meeting chambers, wondering what awaited them." } ]	830	6,342
520	2023-04-26	GuildTextChat	[ { "author": "Corinthian, The Cruel Lord", "message": "With just how dangerously Corinthians pupiless eyes danced with the Kings, one could only imagine the silent words that stirred within their heads. It didn't take magic to sense the tension that rose within Astalios the moment he watched Lazaroth's council step forth. Many knew of the name, 'The Cruel Lord' – and many knew him to be downright unbearable. Nevertheless, Corin cared not for the opinions of a king, after all, he was already judged by a god. \n\nEven still, the golden magic that sat inside an endless void whipped around like a flurry as Corinthian was instructed to leave all of his prized possessions aside. Including Azazar. Clicking his tongue, the high lord looked down towards his companion who in return, lifted her diamond shaped head up to meet him almost immediately. \"Well well, looks like you get to play with the others, Azazar. Let's make a good impression now...\" It was eerie how the two were, their movements coordinated and lethal. Some often believed Azazar to be a familiar under the possession of the darkling. However, others spread rumors that she was a shifter— pretending she was nothing more than the snake that she posed as.\n\nRegardless of the truth surrounding the serpent, Azazar slithered her way slowly over towards the group of guardsmen who had been collecting any and all weapons from passing members. Her gentle, hushed like hisses made for a greeting that not many would quite understand unless they were familiar with the species. Nevertheless, the snake coiled her way between the legs of a guard; laying her head upon her massive body as she waited patiently for her master's return. Unbothered by the crowd, surely eyeing her every move.\n_ _\n\nBefore the Spymaster entered the circle of truth, he lifted his hands at face level, magic swirling from his fingertips. An inky shadow bubbled along his person, before soon the councilors weapons were slipping from invisible pockets and into the air. With a simple swivel of his index finger, Corin's knives and daggers danced carefully in the air, making their way over to the hands of a guard that had been collecting all the other weapons before him. \"Take good care of them now,\" Corinthian mused, his eyes still glued ahead. \"Not many have the pleasure of seeing my fae collection.\" \n\nKnowing his words would likely scratch the skin of some of the Alynthians in the room, Corin hid his smirk by trailing his tongue along his lips. In truth though, he did feel rather naked without his weapons, but understood the procedures nonetheless. Stepping aside just as his queen had, the spymaster entered the circle of truth, \"I am Lord Corinthian of Lazaroth, my full intentions at this meeting are to accompany my queen in the events that occurred at Sorevelle, as well as learn further of the threat that now hangs over us...\" Pausing a moment, Corinthians gazed hardened as it drifted somewhere distant. He couldn't find the will to push any further words through, as his mind truly began to settle in the severity of this supposed threat. \n_ _\n\nAnd although he had not experienced the visions like that of his queen or the king, that voice still lingered in his head.. Reminding him of something he shouldn't have... Galadriel. Corin could only imagine the thought of a god coming down to ruin yet another life of his. But now this seemed far more bigger than just himself. Looking around, the counselor took in the faces before him, this time, more thoroughly. Each and every soul here was at stake– and whilst that thought or feeling would have never crossed Corinthians mind, something deep inside of him shifted.. \n\nIn silence, the darkling strode over towards queen Dhakashira and awaited for their last companion to follow suit. The weight of this meeting now bearing down upon his shoulders. \n\|\|" }, { "author": "Lysanthir Tauriel Olagwyen, Master of Laws \| Lazaroth", "message": "Finally, it was Lysanthir's turn to step into the Circle of Truth. Based on the King's gaze, he wouldn't be surprised if Astalios expected the vampire to mention Caleesi in his forced words of truth. But as said before, Lysanthir is not here for his own pleasure or pain. He was there to support his queen and nothing more. Watching quietly as Dhakashira and Corinthian spoke their words of truth, Lysanthir then stepped within the circle, careful to look Astalios in the eyes as he spoke. \"I am Lord Lysanthir Tauriel Olagwyen, Law Master of Lazaroth. My full intentions are to support my queen in any way she may need as well as offer advice to the matters at hand should it be needed. I also wish to understand the threat that may be lingering amongst our world and offer assistance where I can given my experience being as old as I am, but only if it is asked of me.\"\n\nLysanthir's voice was calm and deep, but it didn't take a Circle of Truth to tell he was being genuine. Not once did his eyes flicker away to Caleesi, even if internally he may have wished to see her reaction to his words. Once he finished however, the vampire stepped from the zone of the spell and followed along being his queen and fellow councilor. Passing by Caleesi and the Alynthian princesses, Lysanthir kept his gaze forward and stern, but the sound of the vampire's voice would appear in the Grandmistresses mind and only hers, but it was nothing more than a simple piece of reassuring advice. Lysanthir had noticed how nervous she looked, even scared. It was not his intentions to scare her further with his presence, knowing it likely did. \"The burden and task you carry is great, but you are not alone.\"\n\n_ _\nThere were quite a few ways his words could have be interpreted. If Astalios had heard it, he likely would have assumed it was Lysanthir's way of saying he was near and never too far away from her. Perhaps most would see it that way. Lysanthir only prayed Caleesi would not. His intentions were to reassure her, that she was not going through what she was alone. Dhakashira, Delsandra, Astalios- they had all experienced what she had, if not at the same extent however. Outside of them, Caleesi had the two princesses, countless courtiers and allies withing other kingdoms to support her. If Lysanthir could offer even an ounce of reassurance, he'd do so.\n\nContinuing forward, Lysanthir wondered if Astalios would request him to display their visions as he had before in Thyseer. Of course, there were likely others closer to Astalios who could do so, but Lysanthir could be considered one of the strongest illusionists today. Nevertheless, the meeting would be long and stress-inducing for nearly everyone involved. Lysanthir only hoped things wouldn't spiral into arguments." }, { "author": "Princess Delsandra Qinrel", "message": "If only the fiery Thyseerian princess knew she was last to arrive...\n\nThe wayshrine slowly changed from an inky black to a gentle blue and gold, and while it may not have been Thyseer's colors, they were Delsandra's. Well, her favorites at least, and the most common colors she wore. Sure, she could show off her kingdom with pride, but that simply wasn't Delsandra's way. She wanted things the way She Wanted them. Stepping down from the wayshine in a dress of blue and gold, Delsandra looked quite elegant and regal in her attire. The dress itself was a darker blue, adorned with shoulder clasps that held a long and flowing shoulder veil that almost looked to be dancing in what little breeze there was. The clasps were gold with chains of the same material that elegantly laid down the sides of Delsandra's arms.\n\nThe cape matched the color of the dress, save for the fact it was silky and practically see through. Delsandra also had a belt of sorts around her middle, the same gold as the clasps on her shoulders and chains that hung from them. The final piece of note was Delsandra's golden earrings that danced the length of her long eladrin ears, as well as the circlet upon her golden hair. Those fiery eyes fell upon Astalios first and foremost, followed by a surprisingly gentle smile. Delsandra looked tired, more so than the king had likely ever seen her. It was clear she tried her best to hide it with a small amount of makeup, but the look in her eyes was clear.\n\n_ _\n\"Greetings, your majesty.\" Delsandra offered a curtsy, gently lifting the sides of her dress to the king and a smile in the direction of his siblings, the Grandmistress and her own sister. Eyeing the Circle of Truth that was impossible to miss, Delsandra would have done the same if it was her own kingdom and she was queen. With what little small talk they had time for, Delsandra eyed her sister Irezora for a moment. \"Thank you for allowing my sister to stay here since- well, that night. I haven't been able to really... Function, all too well since.\" A smile remained ever present on Delsandra's lips, but it was clear Sorevelle had a lasting effect on her. Perhaps it would be the last Sorevelle she'd ever host...\n\nWhat Delsandra did not share was the rampant nightmares she had been having since that night. They caused her to wake up screaming in terror as the vision played over and over again in her mind. If today meant a solution could be made to these nightmares and whatever entity haunted her kingdom, she'd attend this meeting ten times over. The fire in Delsandra's eyes was noticeably duller than usual- that almost eerie look to her eyes was gone. It was replaced by stress and fear, something Astalios would easily be able to pick up on." }, { "author": "Astalios, Iron King", "message": "As the creatures of Dhakashira's council slithered away to the meeting chamber, the wayshrine shone blue and gold, and through the shrine stepped Princess Delsandra, a vision in the same colors, her kingdom's colors absent from her garb, the blue replacing what should have been the Thyseer royal purple. She was a sight, to be sure, but it signified what he already knew - that her kingdom was lower priority than herself. Her expression, though, was much gentler than it had been at any other event, and he found himself wondering what had changed between Sorevelle and this meeting.\n\nPerhaps it was the fatigue that plagued them all, perhaps it was the visions they had seen. But something had softened her for the moment. He worried, however, when that ugly head would rear itself once again, and her unsettling qualities would resurface. There was nothing he could do about it now - there was duty to be done.\n\n\"Your Highness.\" He bowed his head once again, this time with more sincerity than he had to the Lazaroth party, though there was a sinking feeling still. \"Welcome to Alynthi.\" He paused, considering her words carefully. \"I am sorry to hear of your troubles. If there is anything I can do to help, please do not hesitate to ask. My guards will collect any weapons brought. If you would, please step into the Circle of Truth, and state your name and full intention in attending this meeting, beginning with the phrase 'My full intentions at this meeting are'. Once that is accomplished, the chamber is along the path lined with guardsmen, who will see you safely to it.\"" }, { "author": "Princess Delsandra Qinrel", "message": "Watching Irezora quietly, Delsandra quickly realized she was wearing the dress she had sent, offering some calm and brightness to her fear-filled heart. Delsandra half-expected Zora to wear something of her own, but it brought a bit of that fire back to the princesses eyes, though much warmer than usual. Listening to the king's words, Delsandra offered a nod of thanks his way before turning the guards, informing them of her lack of weaponry. Turning to face Astalios, Delsandra stepped into the Circle of Truth and cleared her throat of the sleepiness that lingered within it. \"I am High Princess Delsandra Qinrel of Thyseer, and my full intentions at this meeting are to share what I know of the events that took place at Sorevelle, what I experience and come up with a solution to any and all threats that may linger over Lucidien and our kingdoms.\"\n\nOnce her words had been received and deemed truthful, Delsandra stepped forward and past the king of Alynthi. Extending her hand to his sister, once Irezora accepted, Delsandra placed her hand within her sibling's, bring her close into something of a half-embrace. The elder sister shared words of both worry, hope, fear and happiness with Irezora as they made their way to the meeting room, and while they may be the last to take their seats, Delsandra just knew today wouldn't be an easy one to get through. It soon began to settle in the sheer amount of royalty Delsandra would meet today- many of which she had a distaste for.\n\nIt was only then that Delsandra realized Corinthian would be here..." }, { "author": "The Tale Weaver", "message": "Slowly but surely the meeting chamber began to fill with hushed voices and uncertain looks. Royalty from all across the world were present, from the watery depths of Tritetheas to the cold mountains of Gantrick- all prepared to learn, listen and plan for the threats at hand. The table the royalty and nobility found themselves at was nearly a full circle, or an extremely circular crescent. On the same side of the room as the entrance where the attendants would enter from was a gap in the table around 5 or 6 feet wide to allow someone to stand at the center of the room where the table wrapped around. On the opposite end alongside the many chairs the royalty would sit in was the largest and most decorative of them all; practically a throne of gold and iron.\n\nThe arrangement of the seats were separated by group, but there was a clear effort to keep groups with tension away from one another, such as Tritetheas being far away from Lazaroth. From the left side to the right, the order is as follows; Lazaroth, Khisfire, Tritetheas, Findara, Alynthi at the center, Thyseer Kara-Tur and finally Gantrick. As each member takes their seat, their name, titles and kingdom would magically appear on the outer ring of the meeting table, ensuring that everyone would be addressed properly and known to one another. Any guards brought along with each party would need to stand near the walls of the room, still near to their royalty however.\n\nNow, the meeting would soon begin, but there were a few moments before King Astalios would enter as well, allowing time for everyone to settle and get a good look at the other individuals present." } ]	487	3,120
880.5	2023-04-29	GuildTextChat	[ { "author": "Princess Irezora Qinrel", "message": "Filing in nearly last, Princess Irezora found herself with a quick choice to make that would affect the duration of the summit. Of course, the Thyseer delegation was to be seated next to Alynthi in the center, however, Delsandra had yet to take hear seat amongst their chairs. While each group of representatives were separated slightly, such adjacency might offer ample chance for conversation or worse, argument. It had been a long while since both Irezora and Delsandra participated in a political event together, in fact, unless the doomed festival could be counted (Irezora would not) the number of engagements involving collaboration of this degree could be counted on one hand. \n\nUnfortunately the choice was straight forward enough. The Princess walked towards the furthest left seat designated for Thyseer, placing herself squarely between their wildcard and the unknown that lay with the Kara-Tur delegation." }, { "author": "Astalios, Iron King", "message": "The last words that passed between them were said, the last moments of the greetings long past. With a wave of his hand, the king breathed in deeply, exhaled, let magic flow through him once more. He neither trusted the snakes within his castle nor the snake without - and the golden arches that had lined the walkway from the wayshrine to the small pavilion melted like wax before the flame, crashing into a silver flood of mercury, joined by the iron throne he had received the royalty from. The mass of writhing metal soon calmed, and he separated a part of it with the wave of a finger, formed it into an orb of silver material roughly the size of a writing desk. \n\nThe orb streamed towards his guards, heading between the legs of the one who had unfortunately been saddled with Corinthian's pet. The orb snapped itself into a boxy form around it, nearly instantaneously enveloping the animal in a cage of thick iron bars, too small for it to slip through, missing any lock or key. He trusted the snakes within his castle as far as he trusted this snake without - which was to say, nor worth an inch. The rest of the metal formed into a strongbox, padlock, and key, each of which was given over to the guards. There the weapons would stay for as long as his guests were in his castle. Their guards had none, they carried none on their person, and the mages of the court were standing by in case of untoward spellcasting. \n\nWith a nod, he directed his family and his advisor to advance as if there was a battle to come - it was apparent in the grim set of his expression exactly how enjoyable he found this meeting. To know when magic was being cast, he had made certain preparations - and as he led his delegation forward just behind the Thyseer party, he strode beside Princess Irezora for a moment, giving her a sharp look - thankfully, she had made the necessary preparations, and a cursory errant touch of the hand passed the ring stealthily from one to the other.\n\n_ _\nThe ring did not so much as touch his skin, however - as their hands seemingly accidentally collided, the steel annealed to his armor seamlessly as if it were sinking into a pool, the mark aligning itself to the top of his ring finger, a simple carat that could have been a scratch to the rest of the world, before disappearing entirely once it was properly aligned. The runes he flipped to the inside of his armor, concealing them from view entirely, though keeping their form as he rearranged the metal. \n\nIt was done, view blocked by his hand and hers. The afterglow of a cold spot blossomed at the top left corner of his finger where the ring was absorbed, confirming what he needed to know. He breathed slightly easier, though his head was downcast, and he made a brief apology for his haste to push forward. \n\nOne step after another, guard after guard, he approached the meeting chamber, bracing himself to face them all - the slaver queen who knew his secrets, the sickening creatures who skulked beside her. The child king in a man's body, his twisted crony by his side. The three sullen brothers and their sister taking the lead. The aasimar with glowing eyes and godly gifts from their seat of hypocritical judgment. The prince from beneath the sea. The madwoman and the inventor. Temperance's sister. And him. \n\nWhen the Thyseer delegation took their seats, he was grateful for Princess Irezora's behavior - letting Delsandra talk to the Kara-Tur party was a nightmare waiting to happen, and with a quick glance and nod he thanked her. He advanced into the room with head held high, the face of iron ever in place, and strode around the table to his seat, eyes sweeping across the seated monarchs and their heirs, observing that their guards had stood back, that they had taken their seats in earnest. It was time to lay out the rules of the conference. He hoped, for Devinah's sake, and for all of theirs, that they would be able to listen.\n\n_ _\n\"Your Majesties.\" His voice thundered as he stood before the throne of gold and iron he had fashioned for himself, taking his place in the center of the crescent table. \"Your Highnesses. My thanks for your attendance. I must ask you all now to lend me your ears as we establish guidelines for this conference of ours.\"\n\n\"In accordance with established decorum, only delegation heads should speak to the council at large - the reigning monarch present or those closest to inheritance, according to your custom. The advisors brought may only speak after being announced by their heads, and only then if they have some purpose to fulfill - for example, background on the intricacies of a particular spell. Secondly, given the severity of the current situation, there will be no discussion of any topic unrelated to the crisis of the events at Sorevelle.\"\n\n\"Thirdly, due to the suspect nature of this magical occurrence, there will be no spellcasting of any kind that is not necessary to breathe on land, so that we may speak freely without concern of magical interference. Fourthly, in the spirit of our being brought together to share this discussion, it is in our best interest to hear from as many perspectives as possible regarding this matter. However, if one delegation is asked a direct question that merits a response, let us do our best to allow the chance for a response.\"\n\n\"Lastly, it is my expectation that in these deliberations, there will be no deliberate disrespect or ad hominem additions from any of us to any other. This meeting is called for a grave purpose, and it is beneath us to sabotage that purpose.\"\n\n_ _\n\"If there are no objections, let us begin.\" As he sat back upon the throne of gold and iron, the armor itself began to flow like water, dripping off of him like a waterfall onto the floor below. Likewise, the throne melted into a pool of quicksilver as he sat, flowing around the table in a wide arc and slipping out the door, coalescing there into a molding for the door's arch. \n\nBeneath the cold iron was a simple chair of wooden make, like the rest of the seats prepared for the delegations that had come. Beneath his armor, there was a simple tunic of black with embroidery mirroring his coronation dress, the emblem of Alynthi emblazoned on its chest. The crown of antlers that rested upon his head provided the gold necessary to complete his kingdom's colors. \n\nThe night before, and for several weeks leading up to the conference, King Astalios had paced in frustration, gritted his teeth, and subjected himself to the ministrations of diplomatic advisors, offering much needed advice. Demands were to be absent, they had said - and though he balked at the thought initially, he had been argued into a corner, made to see reason. This was no battlefield command, the monarchs present were not his soldiers; to order them about was to offend, and the wording of the speech had been carefully crafted, painstakingly torn away from his initial draft.\n\n_ _\nIt made him writhe internally to be stripped of his armor, uncomfortable without it. He felt as if his protection was gone - all of his wards, all of the various contingencies he had placed on that suit of armor. All had been washed away as the armor became nothing more than a thin strip of gold on an archway, leaving only the nondescript ring behind. More uncomfortable still was to reduce his throne to this chair. In front of an orc, he had never been humbled, never been laid low. He refused to retreat, refused to yield. But to humble himself here was a necessity. As his advisors had said, he must be simply another representative, no matter whose castle the meeting took place in.\n\nIt irked him. Itched at his soul in dark corners of the mind he had not reached in years. But it had to be done. The stern expression was a mask, unmoving. He was bared now, vulnerable in front of them all. He hated nothing more. But it had to be done." }, { "author": "Princess Delsandra Qinrel", "message": "Seated and unsure, Delsandra took a long look around the room. There were so many faces she didn't recognize, specifically the aasimar family from Kara-Tur, the prince from Tritetheas and a few members of the Khisfire royal family. Eyeing the many she did not know with a curious look, her gaze was quickly drawn elsewhere when the Iron King finally entered. Watching as he descended into the meeting room and took his seat, Astalios's words were more than understandable. There was a lot of tension in the room, between specific groups as well. It made sense to keep the conversations on topic as much as possible. A slight tingle of nerves crawled up Delsandra's spine, followed by what felt like hands as hot as fire. \n\nPhoedite was with her.\n\nWhen Astalios finished speaking, Delsandra cleared her throat. Given Sorevelle took place in her home, perhaps it was only fair that she began the proceedings by recounting the events leading up to what happened to herself, Astalios, Caleesi and Dhakashira. \"Your words are more than fair, your majesty.\" Offering a dip of her head to the Iron King, Delsandra's eyes then gazed around the room as she continued. \"I suppose it only makes sense we start from the beginning. From what I remember, everything was normal and going well until tremors began to shake the castle. At first I believed it to be an earthquake, but even then it was strange given Thyseer has never experienced one before. The sky then began turning a blood red, followed by a terrible voice. It was as if it- clawed into your mind. From what I understand, not a single person within the castle or just outside of it was safe from this voice.\"\n\n_ _\nSwallowing, the princess allowed herself a moment to breathe. Regardless of what anyone thought of Delsandra, she was still a person, and that night had scarred her more than she had let on. The princess's bright eyes dulled slightly. \"The voice spoke to us all, the pain- gods, it was unbearable. I felt as though my head would explode. What it said was-\n\nThe Devourer's eye has settled on us. A Catalyst yet to discover itself lies dormant in ice. Mother and daughter and son will perish, the great terrors will return, but only united will the Devourer fall.\"\n\nStopping once more to allow each individual around her process the words, the princess continued once more. \"After the voice had finished speaking, four of us here fell under some sort of spell or curse for a few moments. If I remember correctly, it was King Dilitrios that fell first, followed by myself. I am unsure out of Lady Scarleth and Queen Runacri who fell third and fourth, but what I do know is we all experienced a vision. Once we had all awoken once more, the four of us retreated to a room where Lord Olagwyen cast a protective barrier around us so we could recount what had happened. We shared the visions we had with one another, then I ended Sorevelle to ensure my people and castle were safe and unharmed.\"\n\n_ _\nWhile Delsandra had not noticed, it would be clear to everyone she was trembling slightly. The fear of reliving the vision and terrible voice was crawling up her spine and tugging at her shoulders, but with a straightened back and determined gaze Delsandra did her best to shake that fear away. \"As for the visions we saw- perhaps a medium as Lord Olagwyen had done before? To allow others to See What we saw?\" Looking to Astalios for guidance on how to proceed, Delsandra fell silent for good. There were a few ways they could do this; go in the order as Delsandra had remembered it or allow whoever wished to show their vision go. If Delsandra had it her way, she'd not show it at all if it meant saving herself the pain of seeing it again." }, { "author": "Astalios, Iron King", "message": "She seemed different in some way, he thought. The zealotry in her eyes had died down, and there was nothing much about her now that reminded him of the way she had acted at Thunder Fest. That had been a creature of questionable sanity, he thought - that Delsandra was no longer here. What had happened that night that she had been... Unbalanced? He could only conjecture. There was little to do but listen to her now, and continue with the conference as planned.\n\nFair, she said. He resisted the urge to let out a long breath. There was still a little eddy underneath the skin that drove him forward, to be decisive, to act with conviction. He had to temper his every word with the expectation that he was among equals. That was easier said than done - the voice of command was so comfortable for him that he had to extract a petition or request forcibly from his throat. Her description of the events of Sorevelle were also relatively similar to his own, with only minor differences in the places they had been - and he could discern no detail of import that would be helpful to add. \n\nShe was shaking slightly, as if the fear had caught up with her, like a man shivering in the cold after his fire had gone dark. He had not known the vision had affected her so - surely, it was an unpleasant experience, but this was far deeper a wound than he had expected. Perhaps that was the reason she seemed unsure. When she asked for a way to project the visions, and the vampire's name was mentioned, he knew time was of the essence - no matter how he had to put the words, the first offer could not come from Lazaroth.\n\n\"Thank you, Your Highness.\" He nodded his head to her in a gesture of respect, tone a great deal gentler than he had believed himself capable of in the moment. \"With regards to the voice, and the events leading up to the implantation of our visions, I have nothing pertinent to add. I second the motion for a showing of these visions, as it is expedient and effective.\"\n\n_ _\n\"I now present the Grand Mistress of Magic, Lady Caleesi Scarleth, who will now act as medium, and relate to the council the visions each of us has had, with our consent. If for matters of national security this is objectionable, I motion that we have a court mage in our confidence project the vision instead, following Lady Scarleth's presentations.\" He suggested. \"In addition, Lady Scarleth will elaborate on the level of magical power necessary to break through the wards at Sorevelle, and project a vision of that magnitude onto the guests at large.\"\n\nHis eyes first rested on Queen Dhakashira - she would certainly recognize the wording from their private discussion, and he had explained his reasoning fully to her then. The same held true now - he did not expect those not allied with Alynthi to open their minds to an Alynthi court mage for fear of espionage, just as he did not wish to allow that miserable creature men called Lysanthir access to his own mind. She had extracted his secret regardless, but she had not extracted his troop organization. Too much valuable information was buried within for them not to conceal some of it.\n\nHe turned to Caleesi next, a gentle nod in her direction signifying that she was to do her duty. He worried for her too - if the visions had affected Delsandra so, perhaps he should have kept closer watch on her. He did not think she seemed all too different from the norm, however - perhaps there was something yet to be discovered. Perhaps she hid it too well. They would soon see how well she handled the pressure - and he hoped for her sake that she was able to keep composure." } ]	814.5	3,522
1,146.5	2023-07-06	GuildTextChat	[ { "author": "Tsar Alyus Archaius", "message": "\"The young prince shares a valid point we've not discussed.\" Alyus, who had been silent up until Alithia referred to him, glanced to Prince Azir with a stern but understanding gaze. The Iron Stag's irritation did not go unnoticed by Alyus, and while a part of him wanting nothing more than to push those buttons further, this was not some petty matter they were discussing. It was the world, and the lives within it that could be at stake. Regardless, the entirety of the summit had missed a vital point in this prophecy, one only Azir had managed to catch. Up until this point, even Alyus had not fully thought of it. \"I am sure I don't need to remind us all what the word catalyst means. Just as his highness said, what if it Is Something that jump starts the visions the four of you had seen?\"\n\nFurrowing his brow, Alyus sighed and shook his head slightly. Eyeing the room, it was clear all present were either refusing to admit it or were blisfully unaware of a particular part of the prophecy. \"We can no longer sit by and fail to realize or admit what these great terrors truly are. The prophecy does not say they might return, it says they Will, and if we are to take every facet of these words as truth than we cannot continue to ignore what I believe to be the most important and arguably more dangerous line.\" Gauging reactions and expressions, Alyus eyed Dhakashira directly for a moment, his gaze one of uncertainty. The Bear King was entirely out of his element here.\n\n_ _\n\"There has only ever been one point in our world's short history where there have been great terrors plaguing the lands we call home, and I'm sure all of you know what I'm referring to. The dragons were a mighty foe, one that took the All-Mother herself to defeat. If Prince Azir is correct in his hesitation, this catalyst we so desperately want to find could be the exact reason they return. Would it not be more beneficial to allow the expansive resources we each have to explore other potential leads? Was Khisfire not once the capital of the very empire the dragons sought to destroy?\" Without realizing it, Alyus's voice had grown in volume, his tone much more demanding. When he fell silent however, the king allowed a moment of reprieve from his words, and instead offered a nod to Azir.\n\n\"If the representatives of Khisfire believe their best way to contribute is to research and study what we know or even search for other leads, than at the very least allow them to explain their opinion. We all deserve the same opportunity to share what we believe the best course of action is.\" As Alyus finished speaking, his crystal blue eyes fell upon Astalios. There was very clear tension in the Bear King's gaze, one that demanded not only respect but reason. Astalios was proving more and more to be a man Alyus had not fully figured out yet, but regardless of how he felt about Alynthi's king, Alyus was prepared to stand by what he believed the best course of action was.\n\n\"Your highness-\" Alyus turned to look at the prince, his gaze softening slightly from the hard look he had given Astalios. \"-please do elaborate on your ideas.\"" }, { "author": "Prince Azir Samir", "message": "Azir, leaned back into his chair, expressionless as he observed the assembly's reaction to his proposal. One particular king, visibly irritated, failed to conceal his disdain. Azir couldn't help but find amusement in the ruler's glare and lack of basic control over his emotions. Astolias, had struck him to be a man who used more brawn than brain and Azir had chided himself for making such assumptions but perhaps his initial judgement had not been too far from the truth. Although the iron king's tone irked him, Azir clenched his fists hidden from view and maintained a composed facade, it was beneath him to entertain such provocations when there were more important issues at hand.\n\nJust as the iron king's words were interrupted by the findara princess, Vuruxes' laughter echoed in his head as if he had read Azir's thoughts \"You're going to let an old swine who relies on a little girl to convey his thoughts disrespect you? Go on tell him what you think of him, call him out for the brainless brute that he is\"\n\nLike a persistent shadow, Vuruxes appeared at Azir's side, sensing his annoyance. The demon, ever eager to provoke a reaction, whispered venomous words into Azir's ear. Yet, Azir's expressions remained unshaken. He had grown accustomed to Vuruxes' presence, his taunts carrying little weight in his mind. Ignoring the demon's attempts to goad him into acting on his emotions, Azir leaned forward turning his attention to the princess who had taken the floor, his eyes fixed on her as he listened intently.\n\n.\nHaving little prior knowledge of the princess, Azir's gaze shifted towards her, curiosity mingled with a tinge of skepticism. He knew she hailed from Findara, a staunch ally of Alynthi, and with that alliance in mind, Azir had anticipated the representatives of both nations to echo each other's opinions. However, he had become suspicious of their concerted focus on a specific aspect of the prophecies and visions, which conveniently granted them access to their bitter rival's lands.\n\nAs these thoughts flickered through Azir's mind, his brow furrowed ever so slightly, revealing a hint of suspicion. His eyes scanned the room, subtly assessing the demeanor of the representatives from Findara and Alynthi, searching for any signs of hidden agendas. Suppressing a sigh, Azir reminded himself not to jump to conclusions too hastily. Perhaps he was overthinking their actions, neither had shown any capacity to think that far ahead. Azir's gaze returned to the princess, attentive yet guarded, as he continued to listen to her words. \n\nAs the princess continued to speak, emphasizing the lack of alternatives and the urgency of the visions, Azir found it increasingly challenging to suppress a laugh from slipping past his composed facade. He couldn't help but notice the stark contrast between her confident words and the practical realities of the world. Her courage seemed naive, as if she knew the world solely through the pages of books rather than through experience.\n\n.\nA hint of amusement danced in Azir's eyes, barely contained behind his impassive gaze. He found himself mentally dissecting her words, his mind playfully contemplating a sarcastic retort: \"If the prophecy had claimed the catalyst lay beyond a cliff, would she be advocating for us to blindly jump off it?\" However, Azir knew better than to voice such a remark. His lips pressed together in a thin line, hiding any indication of the amusement and skepticism that stirred within him. \n\nThe princess's grandiose description of the council left Azir perplexed. He couldn't help but question if he had been attending an entirely different meeting. So far, all they had achieved were vague interpretations of incoherent visions, testimonies that only bred further uncertainty, and a plan to embark on a search for a potentially catastrophic object they were ill-prepared to confront. Frustration welled up within Azir, threatening to breach his calm exterior. Azir clenched his fists slightly under the table, his knuckles whitening with the strain of his restrained emotions. He fought to maintain his composure, reminding himself that the princess's views were nothing more than naive idealism. \n\nPrince Azir couldn't help but feel a tinge of disappointment furrowing his brows as his gaze swept across the room and lingered for a moment on the iron king before returning to the Findara princess.\n\n.\n\"This is the best defense we can muster? A group of rulers relying solely on a prophecy without undertaking efforts to verify its authenticity or understanding its origins. Not even considering the possibility that the prophecy itself could be a trap before fixating on a plan to wander aimlessly through a vast expanse of ice?\"\n\nCooling the rising tide of frustration, Azir steadied his breathe, letting go of any frustration with each exhale. Although Azir lacked an alternative plan of action, he had been taught a good ruler always seeks counsel from those more knowledgeable Before Taking action. Resigned, Azir gave up on trying to convince them of the danger in pursuing the unknown, after all they were used to deciding and not discussing. \n\nA glimmer of hope washed over Azir as a voice of reason finally emerged, following the princess's rhetoric. It was the bear king who spoke in defense of Azir's cautious approach, providing a welcome respite from the prevailing mindset. Azir's eyes brightened subtly, a faint hint of appreciation for the bear king's intervention. Though Azir had yet to form a complete judgment of Alyus's character, the fact that he was willing to listen to dissenting opinions and consider alternative theories already elevated him in Azir's estimation. Notably, Azir also observed that Alyus made no mention of the proposed separate council, an idea that Azir had put forth. While he recognized it as his own to defend, he couldn't help but notice the omission.\n\n.\nAzir offered an acknowledging nod towards the Bear King before turning his attention back to the council. His posture upright, his voice measured, Azir began to address the council once more\n\n\"I would only like to offer my reasons for suggesting the establishment of a separate council. Firstly, most of us gathered here are not experts in matters of prophecy. It would be arrogant of us to assume that we can unilaterally make decisions without those who possess deeper understanding and knowledge in such matters.\" Azir's hands, previously resting calmly in his lap, occasionally moved with purpose, his gestures were deliberate but not exaggerated. \n\nHis gaze traversed the assembly, his voice steady. \"Secondly, As some of you have repeatedly pointed out the urgency of this issue, I won't do so again but each of us bears the responsibility of governing our kingdoms and managing our organizations. Devoting all our attention solely to solving these prophecies would be impossible and potentially neglect the needs of our people in the present. A separate council, comprised of dedicated individuals from each kingdom, would let us react to sudden developments in our absence and allow us to combine our strengths and resources more efficiently while keeping the power of decision making within this council.\"\n\n.\nAzir chose to omit the final reason behind his proposal. Above all else, He couldn't ignore the underlying animosity and simmering rivalries that often lurked beneath their polite façades. The notion of these rulers, who would readily seize any opportunity to undermine each other, suddenly holding hands and joining forces to save the world seemed incredulous to him. What if the prophesied catalyst turned out to be a powerful weapon? Were they to simply believe that none of the individuals present would succumb to the temptation and seize it for themselves? His expression hardened, a flicker of skepticism glinting in his eyes. As these thoughts raced through Azir's mind, his features remained composed, concealing his apprehensions. \n\n\"I understand there are more pressing matters at hand so this is merely a suggestion and not of immediate concern, all I ask is you seriously consider this proposal solely on it's merit and not personal emotions.\"\n\nWith his statement concluded, Azir's gaze swept across the council, hoping to have put this matter to rest. Yet, there remained another pressing issue that demanded attention.\n\n.\n\"As for the expedition itself,\" Azir began, his voice firm and resolute. His brows furrowed slightly, reflecting his genuine concern. \"I do not view my people to be expendable and as such I don't share the enthusiasm in sending my men into a situation that could potentially be catastrophic.\"\n\nPausing for a moment, Azir leaned forward slightly, his posture conveying a sense of determination. His hands rested on the table before him, fingers tapping gently,\n\n\"We will discuss this matter internally,\" Azir continued, his voice carrying a note of conviction. \"Among our trusted advisors and siblings. If we come to the decision to send an envoy, we will seek the approval of his Majesty, Alyus, and ensure our efforts are coordinated with the existing groups present.\"\n\nHe was resolute in his stand, willing to take the necessary time and precautions before committing to any course of action. With a final nod, Azir leaned back in his seat. He remained attentive, prepared to engage in further discussion if needed, but he had already said everything he deemed necessary." }, { "author": "Princess Alithia Zahavi", "message": "She was often described as a scholar, whether derogatory, neutral, or positive, it was no secret that her preference was in the analysis of facts and discovery of connections between them. Perhaps that was the reason that she found the condescension dripping from the Prince's words so malodorous. Solely on its merit and not personal emotions. Was that truly what he believed? Perhaps some around the table, this young prince included, might think that way, allow themselves to put forth ideas and proposals based on what best suits them and their needs, but to imply that others function in this way as well with no proof or actions to justify the assertion was arrogant to say the least. \n\nIt's important to remember, she reminded herself, that not all seated here have the same good intentions that Findara had continuously displayed and planned on honoring. Though the further justification of the council elucidated this man's thought process, it did nothing to convince her of its necessity. Even without an army of siblings to share the load she did not worry about this matter consuming far too much of her time. All of her days had been endlessly filled since she first began stepping into the role of an heir, and she was under no illusions that this toil would end any time soon. The work was never done. Just as there was always more to learn there would always be more to do. Even so, her own proposal had accounted specifically for this, a chance for all parties to discuss the revelations of the meeting with all parties they deemed relevant before reconvening. Then again perhaps the pride of some might be fragile enough that a rejected idea alone was enough to elicit such a biting, unnecessarily pointed and frankly insulting response. \n\nThen again, based on the meeting thus far much better should not have been expected. The tension between the Bear and Iron kings was palpable and she had no desire to be stuck between it. Everything she had done and said thus far h\n\nAd been in the spirit of cooperation; a spirit it seemed some only valued in name, not practice. \n\nThe possibility had occurred to her in preparation that factions or blocks might form, as they so often did in a room of people used to getting their way. It seemed as though that scenario might unfold given how quick this Prince was to disrespect fellow royalty. \n\nI do not view my people as expendable. Her face remained composed, an intentionally distracted look apparent from the wandering of her eyes. Expendable. Were the forces of Khisfire so weak and unskilled that committing them to an expedition would tax the kingdom greatly? Perhaps instead there was potential for embarrassment when put in line with elite forces from other kingdoms. Previous intelligence did not indicate this, but it was always a possibility. The Prince would be privy to information her informants were not. His words were meant to be flagrant, it was hard to imagine they had any purpose but to elicit a response. Whether from her or the Iron King, that was uncertain.\n\nExpendable. The tight clenching of her jaw did little to abate the desire for her fist to follow. Of course for someone who war was not a fresh scar still tender to the touch such a thought might occur. The rulers of Findara were no cowards. Their son-heir had died on the battlefield defending the very sense of unity that this Prince professed to care so deeply about. But it was not her place to question his knowledge of war, his understanding of what it truly means to give your life to a cause. Those swearing their lives to protect the people of Findara were not so easily swayed by the possibility of danger. In fact, they readily prepared to meet such challenges so that those they leave behind might never face the same. For this arrogant man to imply anything else was nearly enough to put her over the edge. Nearly. \n\nThere was no point in a response from her. The Bear King had all but ignored her words and now this Prince had clearly made up his mind. The council would continue on as though her proposal had never been made until someone else, much more experienced and wiser could suggest that they discuss the matter internally among their trusted advisors as she had suggested mere moments ago. Findara did not often have Queens, that much she knew. Perhaps this was why. \n\nPerhaps she was no seasoned politician, but when one's intentions are well-meant the process of spotting those whose motives would prove to be less savory became far easier." }, { "author": "Astalios, Iron King", "message": "A gracious intervention by Princess Alithia, he thought, had saved him in more ways than one. Had he been responding with the words hot off his tongue, there would have been little but fighting to do, and they were not at this conference to brawl like children arguing over who would take the largest toy. A thankful glance made its way to her as he focused in for a moment and attempted to cool down - the ignorance of one person, and his assumption of their lack of preparation, was poor reason to destroy the conference he had worked hard to pull together.\n\nThe boy doubtless thought he was being clever - which explained his tone. Anthron's heart pulsed away inside of him, attempting to stoke the flames of pride, the urge to bite back at him with exactly the amount of respect he deserved for the lack of attention he had paid to the meeting thus far. The only thing left to do was to take things calmly and slowly, and ensure that there would be no unraveling of the delicate tapestry they had worked hard to weave.\n\nA soft inhale and exhale helped submerge the ball of anger into something more calm, like molten metal encountering the surface of a pool of water. There was no reason to be angry at the boy - he had seen many officers like him come to Dazvaz thinking they had figured the practice of war to be solved, and lost a great deal of men under them before they learned their proper lessons, or else were lost in foolish sorties of their own making. This one, though, was probably more given to inaction.\n\nHis face was still the stern mask of contemplation, but the anger behind it had faded into restraint for the moment. There was also the matter of the child Alyus, but he had expected something of the sort the moment there was an opportunity to challenge what the Alynthi court or their allies had said. The best avenue forward, then, was to lay things out empirically, and let that stand, regardless of what the boy thought he was expressing intelligently.\n\n_ _\n\"I shall address the first points, Your Majesty, Your Highness, before moving on to the proposal of a subcommittee.\" His voice was level and even, a measured effort to remain in control. \"Firstly, we have spent the meeting thus far attempting to puzzle out what the catalyst may be, but the fact remains that we have little idea what it catalyzes, or what it is. Therefore, it is Most Pressing that we learn more about it, which was thus far the focus of the proposed reconvention in Gantrick castle, with the company of hundreds of scholars from every kingdom we can muster.\"\n\nHis gaze slid briefly to Azir, reminding him of what had already been proposed. \"All of us here present were proposing - and pledging - scholars to the cause. This Is The research that our Khisfirian friends have proposed, is it not? We have previously dealt with that concern - I see no reason to retread proposals that have already taken place thus far. It is arrogant to proceed without the proper resources and histories, as you say. That is plainly truth.\" Clean your ears, boy, or speak again without ignoring what has come before. Speak of arrogance again, and drown in your own. \"The Khisfirian scholars are welcome to join us in this at their leisure, of course.\"\n\nExpendable was a strong word. Was he sending scholars into the pits of doom to laugh at their demise? Surely not - and neither would he send soldiers on hopeless expeditions to take on armies of orcs with no more than a company at their disposal. But if research was too dangerous for them, then he supposed that the profession of scholars had outlived its usefulness, and there would be no need for any more of them to do their work. He had stated - twice - that they were sending scholars. Why would it be a possibility in the Khisfirian boy's head that he did not intend for them to do the proper research?\n\n_ _\n\"As for the creation of a subcommittee, Your Highness,\" He continued undaunted. \"Any representatives sent would be drawn from among our trusted advisors, which means only that the Great Game - the politics of nations - would be fought by proxy. It wastes valuable time authorizing and negotiating wording when between us, at this conference table, we may settle disputes personally, and do so with the urgency required of an endeavor like this one. Additionally, I expect our scholars to be able to do quality research without our direct oversight - and for the wayshrines we use to be fully capable of carrying us all to Gantrick in relatively short order if decisions are made that require our presences.\"\n\n\"None of us should need to be continually in Gantrick to govern the investigation, especially given the gracious help of His Majesty.\" He concluded. \"When our presence is required for our coordination, it should be a simple matter for us to reconvene, given that this cooperative measure is of the highest priority. To that end, I look forward to our next reconvention, three days hence, where we might begin to make progress in this research endeavor.\"" } ]	992.5	4,586
286	2021-12-02	GuildTextChat	[ { "author": "Winrae Kaliyah, Kamara's Chosen", "message": "After her run in with an unusual tiefling, Winrae decided it was time to return to her home and normal duties. She had recently been out on business in Findara, assisting the Shield Guardians with matters that weren't as dire as they had original told her they were. Some nasty business with Sisterhood of Salvation copycats. If they were the real assassination group, the fight Winraehad gotten herself into would have been much bloodier and not as swift. Nevertheless, she was in her home of Alynthi, specifically the castle. She had wanted nothing more than to return to her normal duties of protecting the royal family, and word had reached her that the prince had recently discovered a noble family of liars and slave owners, and she wished to congratulate him on protecting the kingdom.\n\nThe paladin had returned to the castle only moments ago, entering through the main gates with other lower ranked knights and guards greeting her with salutes. Winrae happily returned them, but had no time for discussion. For now, Winrae was patrolling through the royal gardens, on her way to the throne room to hopefully discuss with the king and queen what happened in Findara. She was fully clad in her armor, though her helm was beneath her armpit revealing her face and long red hair. The golden armor she wore shimmered from the sun above, truly basking Winrae in the way many looked at her; a shining example of what a paladin should be." }, { "author": "Astalios, Iron Prince", "message": "The prince was at the moment exiting the halls of the castle into the gardens. The whole Agarvaran affair had weighed heavily on his mind since the arrest of the Lord and Lady, and he often wished that he hadn't made the announcement of his proclivity towards courtship on the same night. It had been a wonderful trap for the power-hungry Agarvarans, whom he had captured and defeated, but the ramifications socially had been vast. Women everywhere - and in the same manner as Bellaluna had been foisted upon him by her parents, many other young noblewomen either tried to introduce themselves forcibly or were told to by their parents. Everyone wanted to be queen.\n\nIt left him needing a bit of a break - and as he advanced towards the fountain, he caught sight of the red-headed Aasimar he had confided in about Anthron. Winrae was back from whatever she had been doing - perhaps some trip of her own - and she had been missed in the palace, he knew that much. His father and mother always spoke highly of her.\n\nHe advanced, marching with steel sabatons, towards her with a smile and a wave. \"Winrae, it is good to see you. How have you been? What transpired on your trip? I have to say I was looking forward to our next meeting.\"" }, { "author": "Winrae Kaliyah, Kamara's Chosen", "message": "Turning as she heard her name, she offered a bow when she realized it was the prince. \"Good afternoon, young Astalios.\" The paladin then stood straight once more and shrugged a bit at the prince's question. To be completely honest, her recent travels were boring compared to any others she had taken in the last year. \"Bah, the Shield Guardians requested my assistance in some Sisterhood matters. Turned out to be nothing more than wannabes wishing to cause trouble and hurt innocent people. Trivial. Though, it's good to see you, my lord. I heard about some issues with a noble family.\" Winrae raised an eyebrow, her all white eyes wide with curiousness. She hadn't heard much, just about slavery and lies, which to be fair was common amongst nobility. Rarer though, in Alynthi.\n\n\"I take it it went over smoothly then?\" Winrae's voice was always very commanding, even in a formal discussion amongst those she considered friends. She had a way about her words, almost as if her voice alone had a god-complex. Winrae has no such complex, she simply knows she's better than the common rabble. A view she keeps to herself of course, but one that would quickly cause the prince to view her differently than he had been. \"I'm sure nothing that's been going on with me is nearly as exciting as the recent events here in the kingdom.\"" }, { "author": "Astalios, Iron Prince", "message": "\"Ah, well, they were nothing challenging to take care of. The parchment trail led me right to them, and when I was engaged in detective operations, I took many precautions that allowed me to gather my information while they were unaware of my deception. And of course, I was happy to see justice done. It could have been very hairy otherwise.\" He observed. Looking back on the matter, it was a good thing that they had taken the precautions to bring an abjurer, have an illusionist disguise him.\n\nWhen stomping in with royal authority, the people loyal to the Agarvarans might have hid the information he needed deliberately, and he would never have gotten the same respect as he had from every member of that family.\n\n\"The daughter, Bellaluna... She was very fortunate to be free of them. Viessa and Dalyor are together again, now, and I believe, more importantly, that I have secured the ironclad loyalty of the town of Lerwick for the ages to come. It's a good thing, too. That area is quite near Gantrick and Dazvaz, which might pose some problems in the future if King Alyus continues to behave strangely. And, of course, we don't want to have the plague of slavery continue into our lands. Politically and morally, it was a good move, I believe.\"\n\n\"But there is another matter I wish to speak with you of. A dream I have had lately...\"" }, { "author": "Winrae Kaliyah, Kamara's Chosen", "message": "\"Yes, Gantrick and Dasvaz have been nothing more than a thorn in our literal sides for quite some time. Gantrick more than the latter, of course. As for King Alyus, he stays hidden in his frozen prison, and let's just hope the bear stays there.\" Winrae scowled a bit at the mention of both places, one a kingdom, the other nothing more than a nation. Could very easily be conquered by Alynthi, spread their territory. Winrae knew of course this would never happen, and for now Dasvaz was nothing more than a stain. Nevertheless, Winrae silently praised the prince on his discovery of the Agarvarans, one she was sure the king and queen would be very proud of him for. Hearing him mention a recent, however, Winrae raised a worried brow.\n\n\"Anything worrisome, Astalios? I never take dreams lightly, mind you. They always seem to be outside forces either warning us, or playful spirits wishing to do us harm or scare us. Gods be good, its not anything to worry about.\" Winrae herself has many dreams, especially given her position as a paladin of Kamara. While the Goddess never directly speaks with her, the two often discuss indirectly via prayer and dreams, though its been a long while since she's had one. Perhaps she'd visit the Temple of the Gods soon.." }, { "author": "Astalios, Iron Prince", "message": "\"Unfortunately, it has been Quite Worrisome. It started as myself in a field, looking at the stars. It was peaceful, calm, and bright even though it was night, and I was at home, I believe... In spirit, if not in location at the castle.\" He began to describe the dream, racking his brains for the message that had been given to him. There was more... There was more panache he could have been giving this delivery, more awe as befit the way he felt. \"I was astonished to be somewhere so beautiful and doing nothing.\"\n\n\"Then... The dream changed. It was as if the heavens themselves tore open, and it felt as if all the happiness in the world had been ripped away from the world. There was nothing positive, no light in my heart. Then my crown melted atop my head, and it burned into my skull. My head was heavy, my knees buckled, and the only light left was the moon. In the center of the moon...\" He took a deep breath, recalling the excruciating pain of it.\n\n\"In the center of the moon there appeared a red light, like a small dot in the center. It was terrifying.\"\n\n\"But then that fell away, and suddenly I was... In the middle of a parade of victory, the common people and nobility alike out in parade, throwing flowers at our feet - myself, my parents. The royalty of Alynthi. The people were thanking the gods for us. I felt pride, I felt the rush of victory. I had conquered something, and perhaps that was the reason the people were thankful.\"\n\n\"Then the cheers became screams, the people melted to corpses, the sky to ash. The moon reappeared, within it the red dot, and the kingdom became a wasteland, burning. Fire consumed all - Tempest, my parents, the people.\"\n\n\"There was one word: Prepare. A deep voice, booming, came from my heart. And it was all that kept the darkness from reaching me, like a sword and shield at my side to defend me.\" He spoke reverently of the presence. \"What could this mean? I shall prepare, but for what?\"" }, { "author": "Winrae Kaliyah, Kamara's Chosen", "message": "Winrae crossed her arms over her armored chest, her helmet now in one of her hands as she listened and thought intently. Peace, then horror. Sounded like a nightmare. Then the moon had a red dot at its center? How peculiar. Winrae's first thought was the prince's crown burning into his head being a symbol, something along the lines of 'heavy is the crown', so to speak. Be careful with your power or some such, but as the prince continued, her thoughts changed. \"Hmm..\" Winrae's voice rumbled as she racked her brain for what it all could possibly mean. \"This voice you speak of, you say it came from within your heart? If you say you have a deep connection with the God of War, it makes sense for his voice to be the one warning you. At least in my eyes it does.\" Winrae shrugged a bit at her words, continuing. \"Peace to mayhem and chaos, then back around again once more. And the red dot you say was at the center of the moon, its strange indeed. I'm unsure what the moon or what sounds like a red star has anything to do with us here on the ground though.\"\n\n\"There are quite a handful of possibilities, what your dream meant. At first, I believed it was a message to be careful with the power your crown and throne hold. That made the most logical sense, given your.. Craving For battle.\" Winrae tried her best to word it as respectfully as she could, waving her hand as she thought of the right word to say. \"But people praising you and then melting away it- to be terribly honest, my lord I'm not sure in the slightest.\" Winrae bowed her head in an apology for her lack of guidance, but she couldn't pin down what it possibly could have meant. \"Have you reached out to Anthron or any of the other Gods for any guidance? I could try to see if Kamara has any knowledge to give myself too.\"" }, { "author": "Astalios, Iron Prince", "message": "\"I understand that this sort of thing is highly symbolic - and normally I would have agreed about the warning to be careful with the power given to me. Not to abuse it. But it felt almost as if some dread... Thing... Was there, and I was warded by that power against it. The voice that told me to prepare might have been true - I did not feel that the red star was a god, or anything like the gods.\" He contemplated it for a moment, rubbing his chin with a gauntleted hand. \n\n\"I wonder if it could have been the Forgotten? There are many threats to the kingdom that I can perceive, though not all of them are serious, and it is unlikely that many of them will be unreactable, so to speak. For example, Gantrick. Moving armies is a massive endeavor, and very visible. Especially for the tundra dwellers. If they march an army south, we will at least see them coming, and be able to muster our armies and probably those of Thyseer to intercept or force them to split their numbers to deal with a two-pronged counterstroke.\"\n\n\"I... Well, this is what I received when I took your earlier advice and asked Anthron.\"" }, { "author": "Winrae Kaliyah, Kamara's Chosen", "message": "\"The Forgotten? Hmm.. From what I know of the exiled god, he's never been associated with any sort of redness or specifically a red dot. He was always depicted as a massive golden dragon, of course. Though, being exiled may have caused him to change in some way, so its still a very real possibility.\" Speaking of the God of Magic, Azmondious always left a sour taste in her mouth. He was exiled for a reason, he's why humans went extinct and dragons nearly took over the world so long ago. A fire burned in the paladin's heart to ensure he never returned, but she pushed that feeling down to focus on the prince's woes. \n\n\"It sounds as though your patron is warning you. That's the main thing I'm understanding from it all. From what? I haven't a single clue. I'm sorry I can't offer anymore insight into what you've seen. Though, you could accompany me to the Temple of the Gods sometime, perhaps one of them will have some sort of answer for you.\" Winrae shrugged, placing her helmet back under her arm once more. The Gods typically never reached out directly through a conversation, they almost always communicated through dreams or visions or strange happenings in your life. This is what the prince's dream sounded like, and for a god such as the God of War to reach out, it must have been extremely important." }, { "author": "Astalios, Iron Prince", "message": "\"I am not entirely sure of what god Would Be associated with it. The Temple is a fine option, I suppose...\" He inhaled and exhaled briefly, thinking back on the dream. It had always bothered him that Winrae thought he was the champion of war - and her counsel was usually quite good. It didn't bode well, however, for the country if he was to be the next king. What kind of reign could he possibly have if war was what he was most aligned with?\n\n\"Do not worry about the lack of insight on such matters. If they gods wanted to give us their thoughts directly, they would. At best, I can only 'prepare'.\"" }, { "author": "Winrae Kaliyah, Kamara's Chosen", "message": "\"How will you prepare then, my lord?\" Winrae asked, unsure how he would prepare for something he knew nothing about, for the most part. It was quite a direct and pointed question, and in her voice it almost sounded as if she were challenging the prince's resolve and plan. While her eyes were completely white, it was almost as if the celestial being before him was staring right through him. Even if he didn't know Winrae well, most aasimar were known to be out and proud and full of themselves. Winrae was no acception to this stereotype." } ]	293	3,146
270.833333	2021-12-03	GuildTextChat	[ { "author": "Astalios, Iron Prince", "message": "\"Marshal the armies, I expect.\" He stated rather mildly. \"Kick up training, begin to investigate these rumors more often. I suppose that the preparations we can make are those that won't make neighboring countries immediately suspicious of us - but we can make sure that we are ready for an apocalyptic threat without alerting them, I believe.\"\n\n\"Or it could mean that I, personally, have to prepare for a challenge. In which case I shall kick up my own training once again. With the nature of my magic being as it is, I am sure... I am sure it was given to me for some reason. I shall have to find out what that is.\" He cleared his throat. \"Doing both is going to be the most useful. I shall prepare both myself and the kingdom for a coming challenge.\"" }, { "author": "Winrae Kaliyah, Kamara's Chosen", "message": "Winrae's expression remained relatively neutral, though her mind was much deeper in thought. This dream the prince had seen and his course of action in how to deal with it worried Winrae. It sounded as if he were going to devote all his energy, time and sanity into preparing for something that may have been nothing at all. Of course, all dreams had meaning but still, it could be something much less severe than what they were thinking. Though she supposed it if it truly was something to rally the troops over, better to be prepared for nothing than be ill-prepared for something. Winrae nodded slowly, her expression now somewhat of a frown, \"I implore you not to work yourself to death over something you or I know so little about. I also recommend speaking with your father or mother at some point about it, at least your dream. If you go raising your army up, I'm sure you'll worry them.\"\n\nWinrae stretched out her long white wings for a moment, causing a long shadow to form over herself and the prince for a a fleeting few seconds. Folding them back up behind her back once more, Winrae rolled her neck a bit. \"If at any point you wish to spar and work on your own skills to prepare Yourself, I'd happily volunteer.\" Winrae offered a playful and devious smirk, \"Though just because I'm meant to protect you doesn't mean I'll go easy.\" Winrae then let out a chuckle, her voice sounded as challenging and proud as it always did." }, { "author": "Astalios, Iron Prince", "message": "\"Well, Dame Kaliyah, I cannot say that it is wiser to underwork than to overwork myself, but I shall take that under advisement.\" He chuckled for a few moments, considering her advice. It was sound, and there was no reason not to take it. His parents did need to be in the loop, but that was easily remedied. \"And as for the prospect of working myself to death, well - I should be fortunate if I could bring myself to that point.\"\n\n\"Now, if you wish to challenge me, you must realize that I could simply wrap your own armor around your body, shred you with it like a piece of parchment being pierced by arrows, and other such nasty metaphors, but I could use some practice against an abjurer enemy, as magic will be at a premium in any duel. So, what say we forego the wings and spells, and fight as we are, hmm?\" He asked, letting his hammer fly from his back and into his hand solidly. He brought the weapon up to grasp with both of his hands fully, and his armor shifted and flowed to form a helmet over his head - a helm in the frogmouth style.\n\n\"I have no doubt I shall offer you a challenge before you best me.\"" }, { "author": "Winrae Kaliyah, Kamara's Chosen", "message": "\"Ah, a fair fight you say? Its bold of you to assume my own armor and magic can't protect me from spells such as yours.\" Winrae winked before placing her stag helm atop her head. The horns were massive and stretched out relatively far, and one could easily wonder if Winrae had ever used them in battle to impale those who got to close. The paladin would have to be mindful of her wings, as she always used them in combat. No need to cheat, right? The helm itself, once it was locked onto Winrae's head, began to glow from within, the eyes shining a bright white. In armor, Winrae stood a bit taller than when out, at 6'10. She looked foreboding and one wouldn't have to wonder why she was so revered.\n\n\"Let's not wreck the garden though, Astalios.\" Her voice emitted from the armor, almost as if it were being projected out a bit louder than it was before she had placed her helmet on her head. Winrae pulled her golden and massive greatsword off of her back and readied herself in a more defensive position. She's allow the prince to take the first swing, as she wanted to see just how well his form was in battle. For now, she'd defend herself for the most part." }, { "author": "Astalios, Iron Prince", "message": "It had been years of practice with the army that had readied Astalios for duels - and here, with an aasimar glowing bright in front of him, he had to admit, it didn't look very hopeful at all. There was the fact that she stood a good nine inches taller than him, the fact that she was still glowing despite the lack of magic involved in this duel, and the fact that she was divine in origin.\n\nRegardless... He could do his best, fight hard, and perhaps find a way to outsmart her or come up with some other solution to the problem. He began with a huge looping overhead strike with the hammer, a blow that would easily be parried if it was a real strike.\n\nInstead, he twisted the hammer at the last second, changing the angle of the strike to make it appear that he was feinting, and brought it back along its original course - feinting a feint, in essence." }, { "author": "Winrae Kaliyah, Kamara's Chosen", "message": "To say Winrae's greatsword was massive would probably be an understatement, but the weapon was definitely a difficult one to get past. Watching Astalios ready himself, Winrae smirked confidently beneath her helm. The prince may have had years of experience, but she did as well, if not more. Holding her greatsword with both hands, Winrae watched the prince move and strike his first blow at her, and in response Winrae raised her sword up to block overhead. He had surprising control over a weapon so heavy, but Winrae's was as well. Without her wings, she was much slower, but this didn't bother her. This battle would be more about strength and wits than speed, which was right up the paladin's alley.\n\nAs the two clashed, it would take a moment for either of them to pull their weapons back to prepare for another blow or block, which gave Winrae ample time to slam an armored boot into the prince's chest. With her armor on, she weighed more, and with her height advantage she'd at least knock him back a few feet, if not entirely onto his ass. Winrae then raised her greatsword once more, giving the prince no time to recover from being shoved away so harshly. Of course, Winrae would hold back her strength just a bit. No reason to maim the prince too bad, right?\n\nAs the two's battle carried on, passersby stopped and began to whisper to one another. Guards ran off to get others and tell them to come watch, maids stopped to cheer the prince on silently. Nevertheless, there were now eyes on the prince and royal guard. Two powerful stags clashed with one another, one winged, and one of silver. If this battle was real, it'd be one you'd hear in bard's songs or a tale spun by old men to their grand children. For now, this was nothing more than a friendly spar." } ]	268.5	1,625
278.714286	2021-12-07	GuildTextChat	[ { "author": "The Weaver of Stories", "message": "As Winrae raised to block Astalios's next blow, the prince would feel himself falling, almost as if the ground himself had given way. Falling into a deep blackness, Astalios would feel, hear or smell nothing for what could have been minutes or even hours. He simply wouldn't be able to tell. The blackness persisted and persisted, and a heavy feeling would begin to form in the prince's chest, until a faint light would form before him. A massive shadow seemed to stop the full light from reaching where the prince was at, and the sound of heavy and deep breathing could soon be heard and even felt. The prince would feel each exhale resonate in his chest, almost like a drum reverberating in his heart. Hot air from whatever or whoever was breathing seemed to blow onto the prince's face, and it smelled of death.\n\nMere seconds later, the prince would be sat on a throne. It wasn't a familiar place in the slightest, but easily recognizable as a throne room. People before him bowed, but were trembling and whimpering in fear. The world before him was in black and white, and as he breathed he would soon realize the heavy breathing was now coming from his own lungs. Astalios couldn't move or speak, but his body seemingly stood without his say. He was much taller than normal, it was obvious he easily stood quite a few more feet. The prince would feel heavier, and the feeling of power would surge through him. A feeling of complete control and a foreboding power over all who coward before him.\n\nThe prince would even get a feeling of pride over the fear he had created..\n\nYet again, the prince seemed to be pulled from wherever he was, darkness consumed his every sense once more. Astalios's feeling of power and control would drain, and all he'd be left with was an emptiness. A ringing would begin in the prince's ears, and a familiar voice seemed to reach out to him. \"Asta- os?! Astalios?!\" Soon, the darkness began to fade, and a blurry light reached the prince's eyes. As his visio\n\nN cleared, a worried Winrae would be the first thing he'd see, followed by quite a few maids and servents crowded around in worry." }, { "author": "Winrae Kaliyah, Kamara's Chosen", "message": "As Astalios came to swing at Winrae's knee, she instead chose to strike as well while he was open. Sure, he'd land his blow, But so would she. If he wanted to play dirty, there was no reason she shouldn't as well. Swinging high, she of course turned her blade so the flat part is what hit the prince's head, and hit it did. Slamming into the side of his helmet, Astalios's hammer would also make contact with the aasimar's knee, causing her to buckle beneath the impact. Wincing a bit, she raised her greatsword once more to block or strike, but was surprised to see the prince simply fall limp to the ground with a loud Clang. Her initial feeling was that of victory and pride, but it was quickly washed away by fear and worry.\n\n\"Astalios?! Astalios?!\" Winrae shouted she dropped her greatsword to the ground, a loud clang emitting from its impact with the ground. Maids and servants ran over to assist, but Winrae kept them back. She hesitated to touch him, but she had to ensure he was okay. \"Astalios, can you hear me?\" She quickly removed his helmet.." }, { "author": "Astalios, Iron Prince", "message": "What was that noise? What ringing... He hadn't even remembered being hit by a blow. The last thing he remembered was starting his swing towards her knee, and all of a sudden, another nightmare, another vision from the gods themselves. He took a deep breath, shook his head to clear it. His eyes fluttered open and stayed open, taking in the scene around him.\n\n\"That's 'your majesty' to you, Dame Kaliyah.\" He joked weakly as he pulled himself up on one arm, then the other. The ringing in his ears was subsiding, and he managed to climb to his feet unsteadily. \"And don't you worry. I believe I was out before I hit the ground. The gods have chosen to play another joke on me as I was in mid-swing. Excellent swordplay, as always. But I think we may have to call this one a tie for the moment. I saw too much for it to be the result of a knock to the head I received...\"\n\nThe throne, the presence. The darkness that had swallowed him, the light that tried to reach. The world was in black and white. He had felt heavier. Power had coursed through his veins. But this was not the throne of Alynthi, no - it was someplace else, where he should not have been. Perhaps it was someone else's eyes that he deigned to look through.\n\n\"I shall tell you about it shortly.\"" }, { "author": "Winrae Kaliyah, Kamara's Chosen", "message": "Winrae cracked a slight smile at the prince's jest, but helped him up nonetheless. Once she was sure he was safe to stand without help, she backed away slightly. \"Visions in daylight..?\" Winrae's worried look only grew more, and she removed her helmet and sat it on the hard ground. \"My prince, perhaps we should have a healer come and look at you. While I may not have been what caused you to fall unconscious, you could have easily still gotten some injuries. I'd also not recommend much fighting if visions are now visiting you during the day.\" Winrae practically sounded like a worried mother, though to be fair It was her job. Gesturing for the servants that had surrounded them to shoo, Winrae leaned on her greatsword after picking it up.\n\n\"I pray this doesn't become commonplace, my lord.\" The paladin gripped the hilt of her greatsword tightly, and while not visible to anyone around her, Winrae placed a small boon over the prince. He'd feel a warmth, but nothing more, though knowing him he'd probably immediately recognize it as a dispel spell, one to ward off evil that may have latched itself onto the prince." }, { "author": "Astalios, Iron Prince", "message": "\"The will of the gods apparently takes precedence over what time of day it is, or what I'm doing at the moment.\" He chuckled, taking it in stride as well as he could. There was not much he could say beyond the obvious - that he was all right, that he could care less when they came, and that the days of ruling would not cease.\n\n\"I'm all right.\" He whispered to her after the small spell of warmth washed over him. He was touched that she was concerned enough to ward him, but worried that she might consider it a hallucination and not a vision. Dreams were one thing - insanity another. He was not an insane man, no matter how unlikely it was that he might have visions sent from on high. \"Don't worry about me. I shall be as I was in a few moments. And besides, I will not walk in fear of what might happen to me. Life goes on.\"\n\nHe resumed his louder tone - and therefore the course of normal conversation. \"I can command the sea not to rise, but will it listen? No, I believe I simply have to go along for the journey, as it were, and adapt to the new state of things. As for a healer, I'm not injured. I do not require one.\"" }, { "author": "Winrae Kaliyah, Kamara's Chosen", "message": "\"Prince Astalios, I have to protest. I insist you see a healer. You may have a concussion and not even know it.\" Winrae frowned, her glowing white eyes serious, just as her tone was. She was worried, as any other royal guard should be with a collapsing prince. She believed he had visions, but happening in broad daylight, not during dreams? What if he was out in a battle and she wasn't there, or perhaps he was attending something important with or for his parents. Perhaps Winrae would have to stick a bit closer to the prince for the foreseeable future. \"If you're not going to see one, then allow me to cast minor healing at least.\" Winrae's frown turned into a slight glare, almost a challenge to argue with her more.\n\nThough, most of her looks and demeanor were a challenege." }, { "author": "Astalios, Iron Prince", "message": "\"Perhaps so. Cast your spell, Dame Kaliyah, and satisfy your conscience, but concussions are one thing. I have had a few before. Visions are another. No concussion has ever put me on a throne, out of my body, viewing someone else's life in vivid detail.\" He frowned, looking down at the dented metal around her knee plating.\n\n\"As a matter of fact, you should also perhaps heal yourself first. Your knee is a good piece of yourself to keep intact, and I would hate to be healed before the physician. There's no sense in refusing it, however, so lay your magic on me and let's be done with this debate.\" A healing spell could do no harm, and anyone who refused would be a fool, but he did believe he had not had a concussion.\n\nPerhaps Winrae did think he was unfit for command after all. It was a bother - the Aasimar probably thought he was some stupid boy, despite his being a warrior well into his thirties. He knew what he was doing." } ]	260	1,951
282.75	2021-12-09	GuildTextChat	[ { "author": "Winrae Kaliyah, Kamara's Chosen", "message": "\"Thank you, my prince.\" Winrae bowed her head greatfully, and hummed a quiet prayer to Kamara before a warmth and golden glow began to cascade over Astalios. Whether he had injuries, internal or external or none at all, they were healed and any pain would subside. As she healed him, Winrae also made sure to listen intently to Astalios's words about his dream and vision. The mention of viewing it through someone else's eyes however caused Winrae to raise a brow as she finished healing him. \"So, you didn't feel it was you? Hm.. Your last one was message to Prepare. Perhaps it was to prepare for whoever you were looking through...?\"\n\nWinrae gave a solid gaze to the prince before the sound of squeaks and wings flapping caused the aasimar to tense and turn. Before she was fully able to, a small flash of white landed on her helmet and scurried up her armor before finally resting atop the paladin's shoulder. Winrae immediately recognized the beast as a peggabun named Pim; the pet of one of Winrae's closest and most trusted friends and allies, Essme, a fellow paladin. Hearing the frantic squeaks and yips from the small creature was immediately a red flag, because no paladin was following behind him. \"Pim? Where's Essme?\"\n\nWinrae's focus almost seemed to completely be moved from the prince to the peggabun, and a noticeable look of worry seemed to wash over her face. \"Uh..- my lord, I apologize for this but I believe a close friend of mine may be in trouble.\"" }, { "author": "Astalios, Iron Prince", "message": "\"My thanks to you, Dame Kaliyah, for your care and dutiful conduct.\" He exhaled as the magic washed over him, curing a few sore muscles.\n\n\"Then this is a most opportune time for Essme.\" His helmet, as if attracted to him by magnetism, shot towards the rest of his armor and was absorbed back into its pattern. The warhammer, forgotten for the moment, made its way to his hand in the same fashion, slamming itself into his palm.\n\n\"She finds herself with allies ready to aid her, and with resources at their command. Can this pegabun lead us to the friend of yours? If so, I believe that we are ready to aid her. I will be guarded on my journey, of course.\" Astalios's helmet once again flowed in waves of silver to clamp onto his head, the unornamented frogmouth helm characteristic of his propensity toward practicality, rather than show. A ring of gold resembling a crown, however, still circled the helm, seamless with the steel, as a benefit of his ability to change the metals inside it." }, { "author": "Winrae Kaliyah, Kamara's Chosen", "message": "\"Allow me a moment, my prince. I may be able to see her in this very moment, perhaps get a sense of her surroundings or where she is.\" Winrae closed her eyes, and magic seemed to emanate from around her. Her vibrant red hair began to swirl ever so slightly from the power, and after moment her eyes opened once more, glowing a bright yellow. Astalios would see a paladin performing a spell, Winrae would see Essme, and what she saw practically caused the aasimar to bend the hilt of her greatsword. \"A tiefling has her cornered in a desert, which can only mean Khisfire. I can begin a tracking spell through Pim, given he's her closest ally aside from myself.\" Winrae's voice practically seemed to cause the ground to shake with anger. \n\nWhat she saw was a purple skinned tiefling holding Essme up against a rock, shirtless and seemingly not allowing her to move. It was obvious Winrae was more than furious, as even after her spell had ended it almost looked as if her hair had turned into a burning flame. Essme was practically a sister to Winrae, though Astalios may not have been aware given the fellow paladin being stationed in Findara rather than Alynthi like Winrae. Looking over to the prince, she nodded. \"Wayshrine will be quickest, though they didn't seem to be close to any civilization which tells me Ghanimara Desert. My location spell will tell us when we get to Khisfire however.\"\n\nWinrae's mind had now gone into tunnel vision, made clear by the way she was practically telling the prince what they'd be doing. All that was on the paladin's mind was murdering the tiefling that dare touched her friend, her sister. Tieflings weren't worth their weight in shit in Winrae's eyes, and she planned on ensuring her sister was safe and sound no matter the cost. It was true though, Astalios may just witness a side of Winrae he had never seen." }, { "author": "Astalios, Iron Prince", "message": "\"Khisfire it is.\" He nodded along, voice echoing through the helmet, and headed off to the wayshrine immediately, breaking into a run, and then a leaping flight as his feet left the ground, magic propelling him forward faster than a bird in flight. There was nothing quite like the true rage of Winrae, he supposed, and she had even begun to change in appearance as she got angrier.\n\nIf a friend was in need, then there was no question that he would be just as willing to kill as she was." } ]	289	1,131
384.6	2022-05-20	GuildTextChat	[ { "author": "Astalios, Iron Prince", "message": "The sun was shining, birds were singing cheerily, and he knew for certain that his sister, with her habit for gardening, would likely be where she thought the flowers needed the most care. In the current flurry of activity surrounding his quest for marriage, he suspected that a good talk with his sister was in order - though she might have been younger than him, she was more apt in social situations. Shows of strength and careful speech were subjects he studied, but she had been much better adapted to it, as her education in the court involved less sword fighting and more etiquette.\n\nSo it was that the knock of steel sabatons on the stone garden path was heard, and Prince Astalios, with two of his own guards flanking him, joined his sister in the garden, turning his own dagger first into a stream of mercury, and then into a hand that waved a greeting as he got nearer.\n\n\"I suppose the flowers are coming in well this season.\" He greeted her with a warm smile.\n\nPrince Astalios himself was a rather sturdily built man in dull gray plate armor that didn't make much sound as he moved. It was surprisingly fluid as it encased him in steel protection. He wore a simple crown upon his head made of pure gold, and on his right hand, there was a signet ring of the same pure gold that depicted a warrior with one sword raised above his head, the other in his hand.\n\nHis eyes and hair were brown, and his ears were slightly pointed, owing to his heritage as a half-elf. His jaw and nose were strong and masculine, and he strode to the fountain directly." }, { "author": "_natters_", "message": "The sound of footsteps caught her attention and the stiffening of Lincoln behind her caused a smile to form on her lips. \"At ease friend. You really must learn to relax a bit.\" Lincoln had always been such a jumpy person. He was a couple years older than her but she remembered even as a boy, he often did the same thing. Honestly, she was surprised that he had been placed in the guard. Then again, Asyara was hardly any trouble and truthfully, most everyone loved her. It was likely the easiest job a guard could have.\n\nLifting her gaze, she smiled as they beheld her brother. A shake of her head had her brown tresses dancing about her features. \"Brother, are you not nearly dying in that armor?!\" Never did she see her brother without his proper attire. Often times, she felt more sorry for him than for herself with these heavy dresses.\n\n\"They are coming well, yes!\" She smiled and patted the grass next to her. \"I've started a basket here for mother. I think i will make a bouquet for her.\"\n\n\"I thought perhaps we could talk about your love life... Or lack thereof?\" She turned her attention to him. He was a handsome man. His cheeks were chiseled, his jaw line strong. Standing up, she made her way towards the fountain with him, sitting at the edge of it before sliding the flower in her hand behind her ear. The periwinkle color was a beautiful contrast against her dark brown hair.\n\n\"Perhaps we need to have a ball? Or some kind of event. Invite the noble families here... And anyone else you might find an interest in...\" She let those words linger there for a moment. Both of them were destined to be married and sadly, it would never be for love, but for alliance. It was the price of being of royal blood, sadly. Asyara had come to terms with it but often times she wondered if her brother had.\n\n\"What do you think? Would a ball or a... Solstice or something help you to decide? The realm will need it's Queen, brother.\"" }, { "author": "Astalios, Iron Prince", "message": "\"As you well know, if I'm going to live in my armor, I might as well die in it.\" He joked, letting the smile deepen. \"Although I suspect the flowers are the ones dying at the moment. Green thumb is not one of my many virtues, even if some of my colleagues are more invested in botanical pursuits than I have any time to read.\"\n\nThe conversation's quick turn to what he might have eventually brought up left him speechless for a few moments, his eyebrows raised in amazement, as he wondered how she might have guessed that he had a problem to talk over, and how she had guessed the right problem with the murder trial and the slaving crises being dealt with at the moment, in addition to the investigation of King Zarreus's parents' deaths. She seemed to not only have a knack for it, but an uncanny ability to read minds.\n\n\"You've taken the words from my mouth perhaps ten minutes in the future.\" He sighed as she took a seat next to the fountain, and sat at the edge of it along with her, the black and golden contrast of the armor's emblem shining in the sunlight along with the polished sheen of the rest of the steel, unnaturally smooth. \"I have no idea how you manage to come up with what I'm going to say before I say it, but it's what I should expect, I suppose.\"\n\n\"We have already had a ball in order to make the announcement - and there I saw perhaps one or two people I may have had a possibility of making a real connection with. But besides that being a ruse to arrest the slavers, I was so inundated with well-wishing party guests and 'well-wishing party guests' that happened to be eligible ladies that they ended up in a sort of blur. I think I'd like to try a much quieter setting next time.\" His mind strayed for a moment to the dappled sunlight of the hunting trips that his father had suggested. There was that one trip with the quail and the wolves..." }, { "author": "_natters_", "message": "\"I did not mean to take words from your mouth brother, but the truth of the matter is... Time waits for no one. Not even the likes of us.\" She smiled softly to him. Asyara doted on her older brother. He had always been there for her when needed and she appreciated that so much.\n\nThe mention of the ball had her frowning. She had forgotten there had been one recently. Her reasoning for not attending was sickness, of course. \"Well perhaps... You could invite a couple of them to dinner... We could set something up here in the garden... You could have soft music playing... Fresh flowers for your table.\" Asyara smiled at him sweetly and she looped her arm into his, her other hand coming up to brush against the steel of his armour. \"And perhaps... Not wear this to dinner... It can be somewhat... Cold...\" Turning her gaze up to him, she placed a kiss upon his cheek before she stood.\n\n\"We could place a table and two chairs right here..\" She moved her hands around a bit as if drawing the image. \"And we could have a harpist over here...\" She took several steps from where she was just standing. A slender brow lifted as she looked to her brother.\n\nA moment later, she made her way back to him. \"I know there are so many things going on right now that have your attention but... This has to be done. You are Alynthi's legacy. The people look to you for protect. For direction.\" She smiled and brought her hand to his strong cheek, caressing it for a moment. \"You deserve your happiness.\"" }, { "author": "Astalios, Iron Prince", "message": "\"I'm well aware that I won't have everlasting time, but I will at least have a few decades.\" He raised an eyebrow at the implication that the . \"The process of picking someone to live with for the rest of my life is not going to be easy, of course - and I intend to be as thorough as possible with my selection. There Is Someone out there for me - an eligible lady that is my soul mate - and I intend to find her in my own time. Political marriage would be much enriched by the companionship of love.\" \n\nHe was, however, somewhat miffed that she assumed he would be willing to invite a few of them to dinner at a time - or perhaps she had meant one of them at a time, but that assumed the presence of suitable candidates. There were many ladies of the court, but none of them had given him the spark of a real beginning that he was looking to cultivate. \"I'm not sure I would take any of them to a dinner. Perhaps in time, I shall have a few candidates, but talking to the ladies of the court in general would be the best thing for me now.\" \n\nHis gaze followed where his sister indicated, picturing the table and the harpist and the many other flourishes intended to make him more favorable - or to instill a mood into the night forcibly, like the reaction of magnesium and bromine. It stank of artificiality to him. \"I don't know. I believe a romantic mood is not exactly going to solve the issue of whether I have a real connection with someone. It's a scenario in which I have a better chance, true... But is there a real difference here?\"\n\nHe removed her hand from his cheek with his own gauntleted fingers. \"It is not for me to chase anything besides stability, I think. If there's a way to happiness, I shall do it my own way.\"" } ]	397	1,923
464.75	2022-08-09	GuildTextChat	[ { "author": "Princess Alora Dilitrios of Alynthi", "message": "Feeling two pairs eyes upon her, each approaching with unalike intent, the princess stopped straightening the wrinkled petals of the flower she held and looked up. Her eyes, scintillating and wondrous, darted over to Edvard who stood on guard next to the stone walls of the castle. Her eyes then darted on over to the other side, next to Rikard who enjoyed the beaming sunlight on his face.\n\nThe princess stood from where she sat and gently placed the flower down on the wooden seat. She dragged a foot backwards and dug its tip into the soil. Carefully Alora tilted her heel to a lovely angle and slowly curled out her shoulders. The sides of her silk cape were then held (as she was unable to lift the bottom half of her slim dress that was stuck to her body frame) and as elegantly she should she curtsied, greeting the two protectors of the kingdom.\n\nAlora flapped her cape upwards right after her curtsy and drew her foot next to the one that was at the front. The soil that had stuck to the tip of her leather footwear had fallen apart and barely any residue was left. Her head had turned to Rikard as he approached her after he'd finished ogling her. With a soft and tender tone Alora responded. \n\n\"A pleasure to be acquainted, Sir Rikard. To answer your prodding curiosity, all I'm thinking of is how time has been passing by quickly, as well as how things have changed since the rejoice of my brother's return.\"\n\nThe princess smiled softly and turned her head towards Edvard. Her eyes silently gestured a welcome and an invite to come closer. Alora looked back to Rikard and overlapped her hands in front of her abdomen." }, { "author": "Ser Edvard Eldebrand", "message": "Edvard simply stood as Rikard approached, taking quick mental notes of their conversation. He couldn't help but laugh as Rikard introduced himself, his voice resounding in a deep, yet soft chuckle. He smiled calmly, shaking his head. His forehead fell to the iron palms of his hands, burying himself in second-hand shame. Fulminatus? The title was as ridiculous as the man himself. A fitting title, perhaps. Picking up his eyes, he stared off towards Alora, nothing her beckon.\n\nWho was he to refuse an order? With a heavy sigh, he slowly clanked forward, each step more intense than the last. His left hand rested on the hilt of his sword, the right clinging to his helmet, which pressed firmly against his steel breast plate, freshly polished and adorned with the black and yellow standard. Faelyth had given him the motivation to clean up not only his act but his appearance as well. Standing confidently near the two, he huffed carefully, stopping with a resounding thud.\n\n\"Your Highness.\" He spoke calmly, his armor scraping against itself as he moved to bend down on one knee, offering a solemn and silent greeting to the princess. He intended only on giving an adequate introduction and impression to the royals. Whether they be Alora or Astalios, it didn't matter. He planned on serving them directly, with honor and grace, and refused to pronounce himself otherwise.\n\n\"I apologize for Ser Rikard's impoliteness.\" He said, raising from the ground to tower over the princess. \"I can assure you, his intentions are noble. His tongue simply does not compare to the prose expected of him. I am Ser Edvard the Kind. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, and an honor to serve.\" \n\nCarefully, he turned his gaze to Rikard, shooting him a quiet smirk. Suffice it to say, he liked the lad. He was, perhaps, a little unruly, but he was slowly becoming worthy of his armor. He was soon to become one worthy of admiration, and the effort he put in was something Edvard respected." }, { "author": "Sir Rikard Van Dahl, Fulminatus", "message": "\"...Right. Sorry, Your Highness, if I was rude.\" Prodding was a bad word, wasn't it? It meant he was being a little annoying. But she wasn't telling him to go away, so it might have been only a slight level of annoyance. The way she moved was a little stiff, he thought to himself, which wasn't always a bad thing, but it was pretty formal. He glanced back over to Edvard, who seemed to be gloating over something he didn't understand. But at least he could grasp the fact that he was being played for a fool. \n\n\"Uh, I think time goes by pretty quick for people that don't have a lot of it, Your Highness. I guess you're in that position, bein' a princess and all - Lots of speeches to give and practices to go to and dinners to attend. But since the Iron Prince got back, things have been pretty...\" He took a moment to think about the change in situation. Tense? Were they tense? No. Orderly, he guessed. On the money every time, like a butcher who was cutting his meat into the same little pieces of chuck roast.\n\n\"I guess they've been pretty by the book?\" He questioned. \"I mean... For us, it's been more 'go crack down on that nobleman here' and 'make sure he's payin' his taxes' there and 'arrest her for takin' bribes'. Which is good for the kingdom, right? But he's got his head in those ledgers, and he goes over em every night to make sure he's not missin' jack. He's been to Thunder Fest, sure... But not a lot of parties for someone who says he wants to get married.\"\n\nMany thoughts on his liege's propensity to sit and read instead of down a little ale and make a little merriment were present in his mind, but he figured that was all that was appropriate for the princess's conversation, and the watchful eye of Edvard. \"How's it been for you, Your Highness? Busy?\"" }, { "author": "Princess Alora Dilitrios of Alynthi", "message": "The difference between Rikard and Edvard was vast. It'd made the princess snicker. They, hopefully, at the least had similar intentions when it came to serving the kingdom with the utmost loyalty.\n\nEdvard didn't have to do much to give the impression of an experienced and loyal knight. The way he rested his hand on the hilt of his sword, took his appalling steps with the heavy iron boots that beat the ground below, and stood with aligned shoulders was enough. Edvard's approach was far different than Rikard. The princess has been known to be one of the many rare understanding people. Although Rikard had come off as impolite, she knew his intentions were not. With Edvard's reassurance on that, she gave herself a small nod.\n\nHer eyes shifted towards Rikard as he recommenced to speak. A thought of her own that she developed was how the depth of his pitch didn't intertwine properly with his face. It was at first baffling, but nothing she got glued onto.\n\nHis way of speech was half respectable and half, as she's heard many say, casual. It personally did not bother her as she was now well aware of his intentions and that he was still in his stages of learning.\n\n \"You aren't exactly incorrect, nor correct. My duties consist a little more than the generic eating and attending you've mentioned, but you are on the correct line of thought.\"\n\nThe princess raised a hand up to her head to tuck away loose hair that'd escaped her bun. Once finished, she lowered her hands back to their overlapped position and recommenced speaking.\n\n\"I respect your thoughts and concerns, and to shift your doubt to affirmative fact, yes you are right about my brother's orders from the book being beneficial for the kingdom. The things he does out of the book are also just as beneficial. Without his side of the hard work, this kingdom would've started to corrupt itself.\"\n\n\"I wouldn't like to speak on my brother's behalf, though from what I've come to notice is that letting duties go for some liquor or gatherings is not as possible at times. I see that he's quite harsh on himself, and I do my best to help, but certainly you and I both know it benefits the kingdom. I can assure you that he'll find someone to wed eventually. He's a good egg. If he was able to attend the Thunder Fest, I'm sure there will be much more opportunities and possibilities if similar gatherings are held.\"\n\nAlora's voice was calm, her tone soothing. Every word she spoke was rolled off her tongue softly and with gentleness. Hearing Rikard's question on how she's been, she answered briefly.\n\n\"Not as busy, though I'm expected to return in some time as I've got some scrolls to read over. Now to return the kind words to you both, how has your duties been, lovely guardians of the kingdom? I hope they haven't been too brutal or mangling.\"" } ]	443	1,859
566.2	2024-01-07	GuildTextChat	[ { "author": "Princess Alora Dilitrios of Alynthi", "message": "When Alora had heard the sound of the gravel pounding further into the ground, her ears twitched. Before she could spot the source at the distance the sound had been made it, the source, had seated themselves next to her. The scent was awfully familiar. The tenderness of their voice spoke to her soul. This was not just anyone. It was Astalios, her brother. Her Only Brother. The brother who understood her most and assisted in her being the woman she is today. No matter how far they had drawn apart, his scent to her nose hadn't. Her chin lowered and straight through his eyes pierced the perfectly green orbs of Alora's.\n\n\"A-Asta-lios-..\"\n\nThe princess choked on her brother's name as the letters clawed their way out her vocal cords. Her whimper wasn't long lasting as a gasp for air followed his name. Had she continued watching the leaves, she would've began mourning by herself. It was almost a blessing from the gods. They knew what she needed better than she did. \n\nThe first thing Alora noticed was the wrinkled worries and unpleasant exhaustion that had plastered across his face. He was tired in every way that was possible. It was moments like these that made her feel culpable. She felt that her tears and weeps meant nothing and were of no value. Never once does she remember him saying he's tired. Her dear brother must've been just as shocked and if not more in pain than she was. He'd gone through war, in hopes to return to a peaceful abode, only to witness another loss but this time of a man who raised him.\n\n\"R-Right, I was reading... I-It's abo-about trees a-and the environment sui-suitable for their grow-\"\n\nThe continuous choking on her words resulted in Alora's eyes to well up with innocent, sweet, tears. As she spoke and choked on her words, her wrists climbed up to her ivory cheeks. She wiped away any tears that escaped her sockets.\n\nBut alas, the number of tears had multiplied in seconds leaving her helpless. Alora's hands were not fast enough for the numerous tears that suddenly blasted down. As the tears drew stains on her now rosy cheeks, she broke down and weeped like a child. Her tears were similar to the day she had fallen off the horse Astalios taught her how to ride. Innocent, pure, and unknowing.. \n\nWithout hesitancy, the princess threw her whole self forwards to gently wrap her arms around her brother's neck. Her arms clanked against the chest plate he wore but that noise had only encouraged tears to keep flowing. As her head lowered, their headpieces clashed. Alora's tiara had caught onto one of the antlers on Astalios's crown. As the headpieces binded, so did the two siblings." }, { "author": "Astalios, Iron King", "message": "\"Alora-\" He had begun to say something, but in the few moments between his sentence starting and the moment it was stopped short, he had lost his train of thought. Perhaps there was nothing they could say to each other that would mean more than the presence of an arm lent to support family in their time of need. Her voice was pitiable in its own way, on the verge of breaking before she had even gotten his name out. To be left to wander the halls of the castle without much time to grieve was a difficult fate. \n\nTrees and the environments most suitable for their growing were certainly the last thing upon his mind, and he didn't doubt that they were the last thing on hers. Guilt shot through him as if he had been pierced with an arrow - how could he have let this situation grow so severe? It was his duty to take care of Alynthi, as king, but as the man of the house, his was also the responsibility of taking care of his mother and sister. He bit his lip, cutting off any further words, and wrapped his arms around her in turn as she used his shoulder to cry on. \n\nThe day of the funeral had been hard. His coronation had been harder. Taking care of his sister would perhaps be harder still. He had cried once, during his coronation party, but never grieved. The tears had been shed in rage, in a moment of weakness after a foreign minister suggested he was making a show of his grief for political gain. The incident had needed an apology uttered through gritted teeth and against his will to repair. No time to grieve indeed. \n\nHer tiara was soon caught in his circlet, and part of him thought to tell her about it, but it was easier to bend the metal of her headpiece and flatten it back while freeing it, making it less likely to catch on his crown again. The crown his father worn would never be the subject of his magic if he could help it - it was made thousands of years before by dwarven master smiths. It was no toy to shape as he wished.\n\n_ _\n\"...I'm sorry.\" He exhaled, leaning into her. What else could he say? The tears she was shedding were a long time past due, and he was a poor substitute for the greatness of the man that had come before him. Had his father been there, he had no idea how he would have handled the situation. All Astalios could do was be quiet and listen. There was nothing he could do to fix it, nor bring his father back from the dead. The gods, fickle as they could be, had taken him in good time. It was his duty to succeed him.\n\nHe wavered for a moment, holding back a wave of emotion that threatened to overtake him - but when one person cried, another had to stand firm. There was no use in both of them crying - one had to support the other. He had done so for the sake of his country many times. For his sister, he could do so again. \"...I had hoped to speak with you sooner.\"" }, { "author": "Princess Alora Dilitrios of Alynthi", "message": "Alora sat still in place. The only thing caught moving had been her chest which heaved with emotion. Astalios knew, once Alora let her tears flow, it could last an eternity. Though that didn't seem to bother him, and that was not a shocker. She knew her brother was understanding and patient with her. As Astlaios used his gift to carefully separate their headpieces, Alora continued to weep like a child. She hated that Astalios had to see her in such a vulnerable state, but far more grateful of his temperament. \nRight when Astalios had apologized, Alora's body jolted. An apology from Astalios?! Nonesense! He had nothing to apologize for. It was his duty to be doing what he was doing. It wasn't like he had a choice. The only possible choices he had were stepping down from the family or passing down the throne to her; and he knew either options weren't the best. He had done nothing wrong. \nBefore she spoke, the princess sniffled in increments and cleared her throat.. Although her tears kept flowing, her voice had gained stability, allowing her to speak without much choking.\n\n\"Don't a-apologize over something you d-didn't have a say in. I-I'm glad we have the time now.\"\n\nHer tone was undoubtedly quiet, hurt, and strange compared to her tone on other days. Her voice reflected on how much she'd let this all affect her. Being away from her brother now was much more difficult than it was years ago, definitely because she was much more malleable and clueless as a child.\n\nOnce again, Alora's attention had shifted to the unpleasant lines that had found a place on her dear brother's face. He'd been working himself out, and so, she had decided to address it. \n\n\"You're f-far more tired than I will ever be, A-Astalios. Don't push yourself too hard. I can't a-afford losing another loved one, let alone, it being You. I w-want to remember your voice.\" \n\nAfter speaking, she dug her face into her arms that wrapped loosely around her brother's neck. A part of her wished they were born out of royalty so that their lives were much more simpler. No politics, no responsibilities of this sort. They would've been just a loving family of four with them playing the roles of son and daughter. Who knew, perhaps Astalios would've been married by this time and had children if he was not royalty. Or maybe, Alora might've been a seamstress. The more Alora thought of the simple lives they could've had, the more tears were produced. \nYet, she couldn't have been grateful that it was Her Family that was royalty. She knew that they all had good intentions and wanted the kingdom to progress more than anything. A family of simple hearts with hefty responsibilities to bear. This made it evident that everything has happened with reason." }, { "author": "Astalios, Iron King", "message": "\"As am I.\" He replied, exhaling slowly. Was it such a shock that he had apologized? Neglecting one duty in favor of another was the way of things now that he had ascended the throne, and the circumstances of the day did not change that fact. He Did* Have the choice - he was king, and his word was law. But if he wished to be a good king, time was short and expensive. Meetings lasted for hours, and family tended to languish. It would be better eventually, he thought - once his advisors adjusted, once he understood how to navigate the social setting he found himself in.\n\nHe gave her a warm squeeze, trying to make the most of what time they had. He could not stop tears with a command, but perhaps with support, they could be slowed and then assuaged in time. A crying sister was the last thing he had ever expected to face in Dazvaz - and the time he had spent there had shaped him into a person wholly unprepared to deal with such matters. Fourteen years of absence from his family, and no hands-on mediation or sharing in struggles and triumphs. It was a failing of his that he could not rectify.\n\n\"It is a different voice than when I left, to be sure.\" He tried to broach the topic gently as she continued to cry, shedding tears on his shoulder.* \"But I do not intend on leaving you or Mother any time soon. I would hardly be a good king if I allowed myself to have a short reign.\" It was poor reassurance, but it was what he could offer. His thoughts drifted to his father once more, dwelling on the face that had greeted him as he returned home a hero, that had come to the border twice a year to check their progress, that had made his appearance at Uncle Temperance's battlefield funeral.\n\nGuidance was absent, and power politics were everywhere now. What he had most wanted to do when he returned was to speak with his family, to reacquaint himself with civilian life - and not long after, his father had left this world for the next. The gap had grown again.\n\n_ _\n\"...I miss him greatly.\" He sighed, letting his eyes close in grief as he echoed his sister's sentiments, making sure she knew he was neither impervious nor heartless. \"The night of my coronation, a Findaran lady tried to suggest I was profiting from his passing. I nearly let myself go. I am sorry I was taken away before I could speak to you then. At the funeral, too, I was busy. I wonder whether I shall be busy perpetually nowadays.\"" }, { "author": "Princess Alora Dilitrios of Alynthi", "message": "Although Astalios's words hadn't lessened her worries, it had certainly rekindled hope that the two, now being in a state of realization, would try and devote more time for each other. It wasn't like they both hadn't already tried to do so. Experiencing loss simply motivated them to triple their efforts.\n\nThe fragility of life is perplexing. Its value differs from person to person, as well as its meaning. Young adolescents who take pride in their youthfulness believe they are untouchable and take risks. On the contrary elderlies fear to rest their heads and so whatever they can to not be paranoid. In the end it didn't matter who or what you were, since the print left behind would be the only thing continuing to live on as the corpse rots. The living and breathing are all guests to their homes and families. Nothing is guaranteed life for eternity. Alora's father had been her greatest teacher. To the very end he disciplined and sheltered her; teaching her how to mourn and the hardships that follow death. \n\nAs the vigorous flowing of tears had started to ease, Alora pulled herself off her brother and adjusted her position. She sat on her shins with her torso facing her brother. The change of position had given her gown the opportunity to pumpkin itself. This change extend the attire's laces and layers, patterns and cuts. \n\n\"I... Miss him as well. Just enough that I've been tempted to look into the past and see the exact moment of his death. I'm afraid if I do so, and find out his death was avoidable... I wouldn't forgive myself. Looking back won't heal me. It'd only deepen the scar.\"\n\nThere had been a sudden change in Alora's voice. It had reverted to its gentleness despite what she spoke of being bittersweet. All it took was some tear shedding for her to be back to 'normal'.\n\n\"You do not have to apologize for being King, Astalios. It's a duty that was inevitable. But... I cannot bear the vacancy inside of my heart.\"" } ]	592	2,831
758.666667	2024-02-08	GuildTextChat	[ { "author": "Princess Alora Dilitrios of Alynthi", "message": "Alora listened to her brother with a full heart. His sentences held such expression and undesirable burden. Each word grazed, if not punctured her heart like a sewing needle to a pincushion. Reason being; her feeling of helplessness. Alora has never been queen, never will be king, and will almost never have to take on responsibilities that are the equivalent of a king's or queen's. If she were to ever obtain title as Queen, it would be for another kingdom, and unlikely for Alynthi. She did not understand or relate to his struggles as King, but understood that hurdles awaited him. One of the many things Alora was fully capable and literate in helping with was emotional distress, and currently, she understood his domineering emotions and knew how to approach the situation. Just as much he felt them, she did as well. \n\n\"I must marry a woman of strong political connections of suitable station.\"\nThose very words made Alora feel unease. \nRealistically Astalios's decisions shouldn't be questioned, and technically, his freedom to wed whoever he wanted to was never really taken from him either. But of course, that wasn't how a King like her brother saw and thought of it. He had just mentioned how it felt as if he'd become Alynthi. A decision so crucial like this could result in all his and previous leaders' efforts and works to be disfigured, but it could also result in zilch which would equally be harmful for Astalios. It was a gamble any King so intertwined with their kingdom was not willing to take on.\n\nWith courage, Alora spoke her heart and attempted to offer a different perspective. \n\n\"It is not a Must, Astalios. It is something you Want To do. It's not even something You Want, it's what your duty requires. Have the comforting thought that it is unlikely for you to fall in love with someone who will be the doom of Alynthi. Your devotion to Alynthi is something you or anyone cannot take away.\"\n\nAlora swallowed her brother's expressed desire to find love and the worry of not doing so in time. In return, she let out a sigh and honest thoughts.\n\n\"Do remember that political ties are the bow to the braid. They should not be the main and full reason why you choose to marry someone. I'd much rather have the Queen be a woman of any background with great determination fuelled by the desire of Alynthi's betterment than have a Queen coming from a kingdom with immense ties with no stench of will.\"\n.\nA moment of silence allowed Alora to regain her thoughts and offer Astalios the comforting gesture of fixing his locks and readjusting his crown. His vision blurring by the glaze that engulfed his eyes was visible to her. With a soft smile and gentle tone, she continued speaking. \n.\n\"I assure you, Astalios, my dearest brother, that you Will Find love. You will fall in love, and you will be in love. All it takes is time, and you are far from not having enough of it. It's just pressing. That's the nature of time, but that does not mean I'll leave you to struggle. Don't you forget that I am your sister of 24 years, and the one thing I know best of is you. . . That being said, let me help. After all, I Am the princess. If anything, I'd know more than any king or prince about the women of each kingdom. You'd be left jaw-dropped at the differences in priority at those gatherings I get invited to.\"\n\nAlora let out a light-hearted chuckle to ease the mood. \n\n\"Any luck with Father when you began your search? Any one in particular that caught those noble eyes?\"" }, { "author": "Astalios, Iron King", "message": "\"My wants factor very little into ruling.\" He took a moment to blink a few times, squeezing what might have become tears back into nothingness as he brought up his gauntleted hand to rub at his eyes. The steel split like a curtain being pulled back to reveal the skin underneath as his fingers reached the bridge of his nose, carrying away any teardropt before they became fully formed. One inhale, then the next, and then the next fortified his constitution once more. He had to get a grip on himself.\n\nWants were such a small thing compared to duties. If he'd continued as he wanted, he might still have been a prince, learning from his father until he was a hundred years of age, with hair beginning to gray as he took the crown after a long and peaceful reign preceded it. In the wake of his father's death, there was only duty - to be anointed king too soon, to rule with competence and steel in his bearing, to be the man he had wished to be before he was ready.\n\nWants, his heart told him in a whispered voice, would have him back on the battlefield immersed in gore, wreaking havoc against those that dared to oppose a single word from his mouth. Face twisted into a snarl of fury and delight, bladed pieces of shrapnel whirling about him like a hurricane, armies shattered by their own armor. The feel of a bones breaking beneath his hammer, the coppery smell and taste of blood. The war-god, his heart, whispered constantly about his wants. \n\nHis face shifted rapidly from remorse to frustration to terrible resolve, the shadow of each emotion passing over his face as he tried to take a moment to calm himself before speaking. Alora was looking out for his well-being as a person, he reminded himself.\n\n\"What else is there but what my duty requires?\" He asked as she straightened the crown and attempted to smooth out his hair. Normally, he might have waved her off, but there was little time for an interruption of that little consequence when they were speaking so candidly.\n\n_ _\n\"Yes, the political ties are the bow - but the braid is the creation of heirs to follow after me, and that is what leads me to believe my time is running short. My concern is... Selfish in nature, I think.\" He admitted, voice low and soft, run through with pangs of guilt. \"There are many women with great determination for Alynthi's betterment among the nobility. I had hoped that I might find myself falling - truly falling - for one of them. I know that they will be no doom to Alynthi should I marry them. Doom will only come should I fail to make a decision. Especially now.\"\n\nHis mind once more returned to the events at Sorevelle, the eye of the devourer, the great meet he had called in the castle, the time spent in search of scholars and historians and all manner of esoteric acolytes to find out some way to chase down a lead that seemed to have slipped away from them. The Association was little help in matters of magic...\n\nHe was abruptly brought back to the topic of conversation by his sister's offer. It might have been embarrassing, but like wants, embarrassment had no place in his duties. They were out of time for it. He would have to let his sister see what she could do.\n\n\"...It would be a great help to me. I appreciate the offer greatly.\" He spoke finally, nodding his head. \"Father and I never had much luck. I had very little time with anyone, and of those, only Bellaluna Agarvaran and I had much serious conversation. That happened to be because I executed her parents for slaving, not for any... Romantic purposes.\" It sounded awful as the words left his mouth. He grimaced." }, { "author": "Princess Alora Dilitrios of Alynthi", "message": "Alora retracted her hand from her brother's head after noticing it hadn't provided him with much comfort. The young boy Astalios once was who enjoyed this gesture was no longer the man she spoke to. The day of his departure was the day that young boy was marked absent. \n \nA blank visage is what now plastered his bags and forehead wrinkles. His laugh lines were non-existent, the pump to his tears had rusted, and his lips had chapped enough to eject dust with every cold word. The uncommon occurrence, just like now, were the instances that reminded Alora that he was never this expressive or emotional. Around her there was far more 'life' in him than when he faced strangers or individuals he vaguely knew. The tears that had temporary made an appearance, or the distressed look on his face were moments she cherished despite them not being pleasant memories.\n\nAfter a quick sigh and brisk turn, the princess scooted herself to the tree's trunk, a bit further from her brother to give him space. She wore her tiara and continued listening to what Astalios had to say without facing him. At her hand was a stick she had picked up from next to her feet. Across the dirt patches near the tree's roots, Alora drew circles. It was right when her brother finished speaking when she shoved the stick through the soil.\n\n\"Well from what I've noticed, I think I may have a lead as to why you haven't been very 'lucky'. I think the main reason is because you're too emotionally and physically distant to most beside from family or trusted ones. I understand you're the king, but you can't expect yourself to fall in love with someone if you are not out in the open and decompress every emotion you feel. Here's an insider; it's charming when a person is capable of showing emotion while simultaneously having the control to seize that. You're not the first king of Alynthi, and certainly won't be the last, so just take a breath and remember that emotion is a sign of strength, not weakness.\"\n\n\"Just as much you'd want someone ideal for me to wed, so would someone else's brother or sibling for their sister. It goes both ways, so sell yourself well. There is much more to you than what your people see. Prove that to your interest. These are the two main things I've noticed. The rest will be discovered once you fall in love.\"\n\nAlora tilted her head to face her brother. Her eyes locked with his as she finished off what she had to say with a little smirk,\n\n\"I've currently got a few people in mind, more specifically a princess whom I know, but I will not identify them. I'm not even the slightest cruel, but just this once I will be. I'll help by kickstarting possible interests. I'll leave the rest for you to decrypt. That will be the only way you'll know if you've fallen in love. Just keep your eyes open for the rocks I hurl towards you. If you're looking for me to arrange everything, then you're not looking for love Astalios.\"\n\nThe princess's lips creased from a smirk to an organic smile she could not hold back." }, { "author": "Astalios, Iron King", "message": "Decompress every emotion he felt. Be out in the open. The words stung like arrowheads, reminding him of what exactly he had left out in his letters to her. His father had known, but he had kept that secret between them to his grave. With him gone, there was only Queen Ashira to share the secret with, and even that was done unwillingly. He had also said that he would begin to enlighten his allies so as not to shock them, to make gestures of trust. There had to be a flash point somewhere.\n\n\"Alora.\" His breathing quickened as he took a few deep breaths, squeezing his eyes shut for a moment and reopening them. It was time. It was painful, but it was time. He wondered how she might look at him afterwards - what kind of a brother could he really be to her after it was revealed? There was much that would change, but in the end, he could never have kept it bottled up forever. His lip curled up as he began to bite it, a sign of nerves he had not shown in years.\n\n\"Alora, I...\" He stopped himself for a moment before the words poured out of him. Proper context, proper explanation. Everything was needed. \"During the war, my letters to you did not contain every detail I could have included. I am sure you know this already. I did not wish to bore you with logistics or sadden you with more than a passing mention of losses. I kept many things from you. If I am to let things out, I... I beg of you to listen to me now.\" \n\n\"One of the details I neglected to mention is quite significant.\" He squirmed uncomfortably as he shifted his weight against the back of the tree. He could never sit easy while discussing this sort of thing. The armor sloughed off him in a wave, pooling by his feet as he moved closer to his sister, turning his body to face her, sitting cross-legged as the armor reformed as an empty shell where he had been sitting. \"I was born in Dalery, not the palace. You know that, I suppose. My birth was not only unusual for its location.\"\n\n_ _\nHe prayed for the gods to grant him the strength to say what he needed, squeezed his eyes shut once more, girded himself for what was about to be said. A flashpoint, he thought to himself, much like the way his secret had been forced out by the queen. There was no room for error, no time for any further mistakes. He had to move forward, and his sister Had* To understand. He could no longer rely on anyone but himself, and if he really wished to move forward, that had to change. No man is an island, his father had said.\n\n\"The god Anthron was also present in some fashion.\" He hissed out, wincing as he pressed on.* \"A piece of the god of war is within me now and always was. It awakened on campaign. I sound as if I am stark raving mad, but that is the reason I can learn no other school of magic and touch nothing but metal. Were he not interfering, I might have been able to learn anything else but what I know now.\" \n\n\"He whispers to me, Alora.\" His voice was low and haunted, fear evident in every word as he covered his face in his hands, clutching his temples as if that would fix something about the problem. \"Every moment, there is a whisper and an urging. On the battlefield, his voice used to sing to me in chorus with my heart. My heart wishes for many things, and should I uncage it, I am... So Afraid. You ask me to be open about my feelings? I cannot share this in court. The king is a lunatic, the king is possessed, the king is unfit for his station. I am Deathly Afraid.\"" }, { "author": "Princess Alora Dilitrios of Alynthi", "message": "\". . The god of- . . War?\"\n\nAlora's hands dropped to the ground, her nails collecting a bit of soil beneath them as her fingers curled inwards. The princess froze. She was speachless. This meant a lot of things, for sure a lot of new things. It arose hundreds of questions and concerns. \nAlora didn't know the exact way to react, or what to say. Her own brother, her only brother, was the emodiment of a god. A god of War. She felt her stomach twist and her throat burn. \n\n\"You're telling me during the time you served at war . . You enjoyed the massacres? The blood shed had to be pleasant, without a doubt. The dismemberments, the squelching, and all the bloodied cries. It was all pleasant? . . . Is this why you survived the war? Because that Thing Was not satisfied? . . How foolish of me. You certainly weren't the one enjoying it. That Thing That calls itself a god was, and clearly, those years of bloodshed were not enough. Sickening.\"\n\nHer gaze lowered and focused on the leaves that surrounded them two. A scoff of disbelief escaped her throat as she lightly shook her head. The light in Alora's eyes faded as her thoughts magnified and unease overwhelmed her. As she slowly lifted her head, her eyes crackled and burned a deep, green fire. The princess was not angry. She was disappointed for not knowing and the assumptions her brother held onto. She was also disgusted by the war god's intentions, which were not surprising.\n\nAlora shakily sighed as her arms extended forwards. Her core tightened as she pulled her brother off the tree and wrapped her extended arms around his clanking and bulky armour. She had let his weight collapse onto her all at once.\n\n\"Astalios . . Why were you hiding a thing like this from me? I am your sister, and you are my brother. My view would've never changed. Ever.\"\n\nShe temporarily pulled her brother off her as she held him up by the shoulders. Gently she shook him as she spoke. \n\n\"You are not a lunatic. You are not possessed. And certainly, you are Not 'unfit' for your station. You were born to be The King Astalios of Alynthi, and that god will not take that from you. Do not let it take from your life. If anything, it'd hate being overcome. Out of spite the god of war may increase your desire of violence, but do not let it get ahead. Continue fighting back. You've done so well keeping it to yourself, and it must have been difficult when you needed to cry for help. Now that you've expanded the circle, you can reach out for my help if it ever becomes uncontrollable. I promise you brother, that you will be able to live your life. It will just be different than how everyone else does. You'll find someone accepting of this embodiment.\"\n\n\"As for the time being, do not disclose this in court. Not because they'd think you're some lunatic, but because it does not define you. Why should we allow something like this to dictate opinions? The way and how this kingdom is ruled should not concern them, only the end results just how it always has.\"" }, { "author": "Astalios, Iron King", "message": "The fact that she hadn't backed away and run from him was miracle enough. He hadn't known much of what to expect - with his long absence from the court, his sister had grown into someone he barely knew. To confide in her because of the blood they shared had been a gamble of epic proportions. Who knew if she was now the sort of person who spread the news they learned to every corner okf the universe? Had hadn't been able to find out exactly how she dealt with stress. Perhaps in some way this had been a mistake, but there was little for it now but to wait and hope that his trust was not misplaced.\n\n\"Father knew after the first few days.\" He replied, bitterness seeping through his voice. \"But now he is gone, and I am king.\" Though the day was warm, and the sun was shining, he could feel a chill on his spine and a shadow passing over his face. Whether they were real was no object. \"The fact is... For all I've done, what frightens me the most is whether it was not only Anthron that has urged me on, but my own heart that agreed. I know not whether I Did Enjoy it, Alora. It is low of me to say so, and I have spent years attempting to change what I felt, but some part of me never feels at home unless I am on the battlefield. Peace thus far has only been a different kind of hell.\"\n\n\"I can scarcely blame everything on a god.\" A sour snarl appeared on his face, disgust and guilt wrapped into a single grimace. It smacked of something very like hatred, though perhaps less outwardly furious, and was only broken when Alora leaned forward to attempt to pull him off the tree. He let himself be pulled into an embrace, wrapping his arms around her as she took a shaky breath in tandem with his own. To hear her say that her view would never have changed...\n\n\"I did not think it would, but... For all the near certainty I had, it was the smallest of chances that terrified me.\"\n\n_ _\nAs she took him by the shoulders, he held her gaze with something like sorrow on his face, contemplating how best to break the news to her. He was king, but... He had no idea how much he was even himself. He waited to hear her out for a moment before gently placing his hands upon her wrists, removing them from his shoulders, and holding both in his. It had to be done gently, but it had to be done.\n\n\"Thank you for all you've said. You may never know how much this means to me.\" Every word was solid, the force of brotherly love and the weight of the kingdom behind it. \"To continue fighting is what I have done these past years, and I am glad that I now have you to speak to. But I cannot say in good conscience that I am not a lunatic, nor can I say that I am not possessed.\"\n\n\"I...\" He struggled to find the right words for a moment, brows furrowing as he searched for them. \"How much of my mind is even my own? I have no way of knowing what is my thought and what is the war-god's. I can hear the voice, sometimes, and feel the influence, but who knows whether that is only what I am being allowed to notice? A good tactician disguises his maneuvers, and the god of war is not likely to be a poor one. I worry that I have never known myself from the start.\"\n\n\"To say anything to the court is out of the question.\" He agreed. \"As it should be to say anything to people not here present. I... This secret is a part of my life that very few have ever known about, and I wish not to spread it.\"" } ]	793.5	4,552
631.75	2024-02-10	GuildTextChat	[ { "author": "Princess Alora Dilitrios of Alynthi", "message": "\"Well, it'd be wrong to say that your thoughts are not yours. They are, just influenced. Arguably, one could say influenced thoughts no longer belong to you. Nonetheless, you'd just have to search deeper down to reflect on that and know what is yours and what is not. It's tricky, but nothing impossible. Something impossible could ever exist.\"\n\n\"You've got a stronger mind than you'd expect, Astalios. Remember that you're a Dilitrios by blood. What lives within you is a little god that's been four cornered.\"\n\nAlora dropped her arms off her brother's shoulders and leant him back on the tree. All throughout, his sister's sweet voice had remained as is. Not even once had it cracked, or switched to express a form of anger or irritation. That emotion simply did not exist within her. She couldn't fathom the existence of that emotion. The light in Alora's eyes returned as the fire was extinguished by them comforting one another.\n\n\"Well,\"\n\nAlora pat her thighs and pulled herself to her feet. She brushed any debris that hung onto the ruffles and patterns of her gown.\n\n\"I've got an appointment with the town's well-known seamstresses. I wouldn't want to keep them waiting as they've got busy schedules ahead. They inspected my closet just a few days ago and concluded that my wardrobe has outdated. I was told that 7 pieces were to be replaced against my will.\"\n\nHer head hung low as she muttered the last bit of her sentence. She wasn't too content that she had to clean out her closet. She felt that getting rid of old clothes or attires disposed memories. \n.\n\n?\n.\n\"Huh..\"\n\nThe princess felt her neck lock in position. She was unable to lift her head, along with the lids of her eyes. A sudden wave of tiredness had taken ahold of her. At her palms burned a feeling of unease. It was not pleasant, and certainly not of the ordinary. What would've also been out of the ordinary were the reverberations she had so suddenly felt. A thought then crossed her mind. Had she taken a quick glance into the future to feel and be met with such oddness? Had she, she must have known. She never voluntarily tried to, and was never asleep to have it done involuntarily. The princess was left thinking with a feeling that teased the strength of her knees." }, { "author": "Astalios, Iron King", "message": "This time, he kept his mouth shut. The question that lingered, that he had posed to her and she had not grasped, was how she could be sure his thoughts were his own when he himself was not? She had heard of it secondhand, and was so confident in her brother that there was no doubt in her mind he was in charge of how he thought and behaved. That was the idea, of course, but it was impossible to really discern, so far as he knew. The gods were beyond mortal reckoning. Who knew how they behaved and how they did not? Reality was their plaything, much less his mind.\n\n\"Your faith is quite unshakable.\" He replied quietly, uneasy with the conclusion she had drawn. There was very little he could hold onto, and while he was unsure she quite grasped the scope of the occasion, her steady and calm demeanor was a stabilizing force in many ways. No anger, no irritation, simply passion and patience. A rare combination indeed. He could only hope that he was worthy of such faith in the end. If he were her, he would not have trusted the man that appeared before her so strongly.\n\nHis eyebrows raised in surprise as she began to talk about seamstresses and preparing dresses. The conversation was not normally the sort of thing that led into conversations about clothing, and as his mouth opened to comment on the fact that she was a princess, and if anyone was giving her orders, she would be remiss not to come to him or dismiss them herself, a cold feeling played upon his spine once again.\n\nThe world seemed to darken, though nothing had changed, and a voice spoke in his ear, though Alora and himself were the only two occupants of the garden. It shook the world with its intensity, power flowing from every word, and Astalios could feel the presence in his very bones. His heart began to beat quicker, temperature rising in an instant, hands contracting into fists, the pool of metal that had once been his armor erupting in a series of fragmenting spikes.\n\n_ _\nIt was Him. There could be no doubt. His eyes burned with fury, and though he found himself immobile, his hands twitched upwards, trying to gather some strength to fight with before he toppled over into the grass, drained, eyes fluttering in a desperate attempt to stay awake. The nest of spikes behind him remained in place, a remnant of the god's intervention and his magic, but there was little Astalios could do but battle for a breath.\n\nEven then, that did not come easy..." }, { "author": "Princess Alora Dilitrios of Alynthi", "message": "Alora's sealed lips rounded themselves in shock as brother toppled onto his side. The clanking of his armour rang in her ears, as well as the wheezing sound of air that escaped his lungs. It wasn't every day where she saw her brother so powerless, and today had been a day full of all sorts of weaknesses. \nUsually when someone was fighting to stay awake, their eyes would droop and they'd have a peaceful expression on their face. That was not the case for Astalios. He seemed to be far from grasping peace. The expression that wrinkled his face reminded her of a soldier waging a war. He was certainly tired, but herself feeling a sudden wave of tiredness is what baffled her. There was some form of a supernatural being or force that was doing this to them, without a doubt, and it was specifically being tougher on Astalios.\nRegardless, there hadn't been much time to think. There was just enough time for her to get her soon-to-be unconscious brother and flee to the interior of the castle. \n\nRaging against the position her neck was locked in had it unlock. Quickly, the princess dropped to her knees and pat the ground around her brother's head to see if he'd flinch. A flinch would've indicated consciousness. Before her brother could've even flinched, the princess was struck with an idea. She threw one of her brother's arm around her shoulders. The princess grabbed the pit of his knee, placed it onto her hip, and pulled herself to her feet to start walking.\n\nOnce she felt her knees and arms, that had already lost their strength from this \"Spell\", giving out after a few steps, she chose to use one of her many abilities. This would make it the first time that Astalios saw Alora's magic. A strong gush of wind had knocked the two siblings as an 8-ft flower had spawned to Alora's assistance. Using her index and middle finger of her other free hand, she'd order the flower to curl itself and let out its leaves to them. Obediently the flower did as told and embraced the two siblings with its leaves. The flower then circled around the perimeter of the castle under Alora's command, searching for a balcony. Finally finding one, it placed the Dilitrios siblings down on it and backed away. The princess gave a quick peck to one of the petals of the flower. Excitedly the flower recoiled backwards and shrunk back to the normal size of a flower. The speed of its recoiling reminded most of a slinky being let go of. In remembrance of the flower, as per usual, a mark was left behind. The glittery petals of the flower scintillated under the warmth of the sun in the royal garden, where the flower had grown. \n\nThe closest balcony that'd been to the garden was obviously Alora's, and the doors were always left often during the day to wind her her room with the sweet smell of nectar and flowers. The princess briskly rushed inside and from her room, ran outwards towards Astalios's chamber. Many maids and guards seemed confused as well as worried. They all followed Alora but stopped at the entrance of the King's chamber. The door had slammed shut and a following sound heard would have been the body of the King's thrown into his bed." }, { "author": "Astalios, Iron King", "message": "He was not alone. \n\nThe presence had faded as surely as it had arrived, but his time hearing the voice of the god so clearly had been taxing for the body, to say the least. There was much he did not know about the plans of the voice that spoke in his head, but what else could a war god want but war? It was his domain, he thought to himself. His domain. Was 'he' the god or the man? Astalios himself surely was unused to peace.\n\nThere was not much energy left to struggle against the closing of his eyes, and his vision was blurred and dark behind the curtain of nearly-shut lashes. Faintly, he could feel someone looping an arm around his shoulders. The sweet scent of a flower. He was being pulled somewhere. Alora. It had to be Alora, he thought to himself, for no one else was in the garden. He tried to spark some measure of movement in his muscles to help her. Dead weight was harder to move than even cripple who a small amount of help. He had been surprised at the weight of a corpse compared to the wounded when he'd first carried one.\n\nHe could not be a corpse.\n\nThey stopped. Something shuffled around them, something green - then they were moving again, and his feet felt the familiar touch of stone. Marble flooring, perhaps. Drained as he might be, he struggled to open his eyes in truth now, a herculean effortin itself. Alora's chambers, he thought - how had they gotten there? Magic, it had to be. They had not walked the steps. Out through the door they went, and Astalios's feet scrabbled slightly for ground, attempted to find purchase and support himself. They could not collapse again. They had to make it. The oaken door of his study appeared before them, and as the door opened, Astalios tried to muster a few words with a failing voice.\n\n\"The... Ch-\" A throat far too dry for the length of time that had passed cut out in the midst of the sentence, and his sister continued past to the bedchamber, passing the chairs by.\n\n_ _\nAs she laid him down upon the bed, he could do little but lay there for a few moments, gathering breath and strength, thoughts whirling about in his head like a gathering storm. He was not alone. He was not alone. His sister. The god. The man. The line between the two blurred and twisted, leaving him unsure what he could trust, what it could mean.\n\n\"I am not alone.\" He croaked out finally, fingers scrambling for the nearest bedpost as he drew himself upwards by his fingernails, leaden arms working overtime to produce some sort of result. He felt as if he'd fought three battles in the course of a single day - one was enough to exhaust a man, two enough to drain him, and three enough to kill him. It was not often that one survived the third.\n\nHe needed to control himself. There was time enough for figuring out what the words of the god meant. Right now, he had to present a story to the servants, ensure it didn't spread. There was ruling to be done, no matter how badly he wished to collapse. Disaster management, he thought to himself. King collapses in palace. No.\n\n\"Tell the servants I have retired to my chambers, and that I require a meal.\" He choked out, finally pulling himself into a sitting position. \"We will discuss this later, Alora, but things may have developed. I cannot thank you enough for your assistance in this matter.\" She had been a true asset in the moment, helped him back to his room, got him off the garden grounds and into the castle, where he could be tended to should he need it.\n\n\"For now... I should rest...\"" } ]	617.5	2,527
337	2024-04-24	GuildTextChat	[ { "author": "Princess Alora Dilitrios of Alynthi", "message": "\"Zora~!\"\n\nThe princess dropped the braided flowers she'd been working and lunged herself forwards to her friend. Alora loved Zora for the honesty and loyalty she showed towards their friendship, as well as the respect she had for her kingdom. In addition, they've shared a majority of their lives with one another to keep anything from one another. Seeing Zora in the flesh with this impression of her engraved into her mind excited her immensely. The princess yanked the box that'd been tucked below Zora's arm to give herself the room for a grand welcome. Before Zora knew it, the box had been placed on a random table and Alora's arms were squeezing her waist. The princess was so happy she could nearly lift her feet off the ground and leave her entire weight on Zora, which she did Not Do. \n\n\"You made it in time, no need to apologize. All that matters now is that you're here.\" \n\nThe princess released her arms and raised her hands up to Zora's shoulders. With a warm smile she concluded her welcome to her friend. It'd been a while since the two had interacted. The meeting would have been their only opportunity to reunite, yet that had not been the case. It was a very frightening day and heavy-hearted for Alora. \nThe princess let her hands drag down Zora's arm to make their way to her palms. She gently tug onto Zora's hands and had her follow to a table with two chairs that'd been specifically set up for them two. \n\n\"We've been separated long enough to keep quiet. Was your way here at the least comfortable? I would hope so.\"" }, { "author": "Princess Irezora Qinrel", "message": "The sudden onslaught of physical affection from her friend only caught Zora off guard due to her rushed state. Still, the sentiment was returned with a complimentary hug and warm smile. Not a moment later she'd found herself plopped into one of the many chairs arranged in the garden. \n\nAs much as she tried to convince herself otherwise, she had missed the company of the Alynthi princess during her time back home. Morning spent taking tea alone were no match for the lively conversation and gossip she had grown used to. \n\n\"I am well, all is well, as I hope it is with you!\" Her words were light and smile bright as she beamed at the other woman. \"It has been too long, to be sure. How has it been here? Have you been keeping busy despite your brothers brooding?\"" }, { "author": "Princess Alora Dilitrios of Alynthi", "message": "\"That's a relief to hear, Zora. It's been quite . . Tense. I'm convinced Astalios's recent emotions have been setting the mood of the castle. Some days the castle is as cold as a morgue. Our duties don't really converge so it is difficult for me to soothe his worries. When we meet, the castle is so tenderly warm. The weight of the kingdom is on his shoulders so he isn't to blame, which is also half the reason why I worry he's unintentionally distancing himself off from marriage. I was hoping that this tea party could allow me give him a helping hand. After all, he hasn't denied his yearn for love.\" \n\nAlora sat down as she spoke. Her legs had ended up crossing and with her hands resting on each arm rest. After a moment of silence, Alora's lips curled which promoted a smile to blossom onto her face. A thought of something, or most definitely someone, had made it to her mind for a brief moment before vanishing. \n\n\"That royal meeting was something, wasn't it? Got us all on our feet and picking our skins. I was impressed how civil is remained.\"" }, { "author": "Princess Irezora Qinrel", "message": "Alora's comparison of temperature seemed about as would be expected from the King whose acquaintence she had been making more frequently. Though icy might be too harsh of a description from the man she'd begun to learn more about, there was a general standoffishness that seemed almost second-nature to the young man. It was possible this was residual from his days as a commander, and Zora generally believed as much when weaving together the threads to the tapestry of the King together within her mind. There was another explanation though, that his sister unknowingly suggested. Perhaps he was lonely.\n\nThat loneliness had not presented itself before in her mind was a source of mild irritation, however, there was no reason to dwell on missed opportunity at the expense of new ones. As her friend continued, though, the thread became more difficult to follow. His yearn for loveWhat an odd way to phrase a desire to wait for favor in the form of fancy to fall at ones feet. Though there were many that might be considered and backwards, there were also traditions that existed with reason. Kings and Queens rarely had such freedoms with their marriages as to delay the inevitable in the hopes that they might find one with whom their connection was instantaneous and ideal. A monarch's duty was two-fold: lead their people now and secure their future. \n\nOne might consider Zora a romantic upon further investigation, however, that quality would never shine at the expense of her people. She had a hard time believing that the King would allow it to either. Not to mention that the man she'd come to know was many thing, but romantic did not seem to be one of them. Perhaps he simply had no interest in such desires of the flesh and heart. \n\nThe Princess's eyebrows furrowed down in sympathy and then up with surprise. \"I certainly do not claim to know the King to the same extent that you do, Alora, but I did not think him the kind of man to put duty second to fanciful fantasies of romance.\n\n\" \n\nThe meeting. That had been another matter entierly concerning her friend's brother. Zora feared if it hadn't been for the Findaran heir's interference there might have been far less civility. \n\n\"Yes, though I must admit I did not have the chance to meet many of the other dignitaries. There was a lot to discuss after.\" Her brow furrowed once again. \"I believe I tried to catch you before I left, had you retired early?\" That wasn't the entire truth, of course, she hadn't left until well in the night after her meeting with the King, but that wasn't the point at the moment." }, { "author": "Princess Alora Dilitrios of Alynthi", "message": "\"Oh, he's certainly not the type to do that. But a part of me has faith that he will from time to time. As important as it is to be monarch, so is it to continue on living through your children and loved ones. Being remembered as a good king is one thing, and being remembered as a faithful Figure Is another. I cannot fathom being alone 'till dusk. I am willing to be by his side as he takes his last breath, but I wish to marry. But I possibly can't move on until I am sure he has found his one. He needs him a good wife, and Alynthi needs a good queen. Without him finding a pair, I won't have the heart to move on and leave him to be on his own. I sound selfish and pitiful now, but it is true. I wish to marry just as much as he does.\"\n\nAlora rested her elbow down on the arm rest and raised a hand up to her forehead. She rubbed and pinched her temples with her fingers as her thoughts churned and thickened. This conversation had her thinking if she'd ever end up wedded with how things were currently going. A frustrated pout escaped her round lips as her hand dropped down to her chin. \nThe change in topic had Alora sit back up right, letting her hands drop down to her lap. \n\n\"Right, I did dismiss myself quite early. I wasn't feeling too well. Then, I got caught up in a conversation with . . Someone.\"\n\nAlora's fingers started to twiddle and dance under the layers of the gown she wore as she spoke of Cyrus. An index finger began twisting and twirling a piece of fabric around. The expression on Alora's face softened, a little too much to the point where the peach fuzz on her face stood and tickled her cheeks 'till pink." } ]	342	1,685
228.375	2021-11-13	GuildTextChat	[ { "author": "Prince Astalios", "message": "The night was warm, the candles glowing softly as Prince Astalios returned to his bed once more, ready to sleep. Talks with Winrae had yielded advice about speaking to the god Anthron, the King of War. It was no wonder that he was so aligned to battle, from her cryptic advice to pray and sleep, though he was apprehensive about the prospect of actually trying to contact the god of war. \n\nIt was an uphill battle to control the joy he felt at getting into fights, slamming his warhammer into the chest of a bandit, the crunch of a skull between his hands as he manipulated his armor around him like a second skin to enhance his own strength. It was... Too much. It was wrong to delight in these things, this Astalios knew - and the peace of Alynthi could be disturbed by his own pull towards war. His father and mother's constant work, gone, and their legacy only a warmonger.\n\nHe couldn't let himself go so far. There was no honor in such a fate...\n\nBut perhaps Winrae was right about the prayer. Perhaps he could ask for a removal of that joy in battle. And so he knelt, by his bedside, armor on a stand in his room, only a dagger beside him. He looked towards the armor, engraved with the golden imagery of a stag, and felt the golden crown still upon his head, stylized with only the stag's horns. It was time...\n\n\"I do not come... I do not come to you asking for power.\" He whispered by his bedside. \"Remove it from me. I need guidance so that I may direct my wants... Towards a goal.\" He slipped into bed feeling foolish, and drifted off to sleep..." }, { "author": "The Weaver of Stories", "message": "As the prince slowly lilted off to sleep, for what could have been seconds, minutes, or even hours passed by. The darkness and calm of sleep washed over Astalios, until a gentle light began to drag him in. As if his world that was previously enveloped by the darkness of slumber had all but disappeared, before the prince lie a vast valley. It was dark, and the moon and stars above shown bright and as beautiful as they always had. It was obvious he was still under Lucidien's sky, and a comet quickly zipped across its blackness before disappearing as quickly as it had appeared. In the valley where the prince stood, grass gently swayed in the night wind, though no creatures or other people could be seen anywhere, nor buildings or any sort of light. The only light that allowed the prince to see was that of the stars and moon above." }, { "author": "Prince Astalios", "message": "\"This is a strange dream...\" He murmured, looking down at himself as he surveyed the green grass, the comet streaking across the sky. It was peaceful in the valley where he stood, but he was clad in the armor he wore to battle, in his hand the hammer he wielded. His crown was pure gold and still on his head, his armor turned golden in the pattern of a stag where elsewhere it was steel.\n\n\"Perhaps I may have more like this.\" It was nice, he thought. It was a good thing that he appreciated such peace in the world." }, { "author": "The Weaver of Stories", "message": "Just as quickly as the peaceful feeling had washed over him, it was replaced by an increasing sense of dread. The crown atop his head grew heavier and heavier, until his knees would eventually buckle beneath its weight. Unable to remove it, the prince would feel as though all the happiness in the world had been ripped away from his being, and instead replaced with helplessness, dread, fear, death. The prince would be completely unable to move, and as if a hand beneath his chin forced him to look upward, each star slowly began to disappear. Faster and faster did the light from each star burn out, until all that remained was the moon, high in the night sky. \n\nThe golden crown on the prince's head slowly began to melt and meld into his skin, sending searing pain through his veins and down his body. A massive shape took form over the moon, and soon enough the prince was cast into complete and utter darkness, all feeling now lost from his body and being. For what could have been hours, he sat there, unable to move or know how much time had really passed, until a small red dot, no more than a pinprick appeared at the center of where the moon once stood. Almost like an eye peering straight through the prince's soul." }, { "author": "Prince Astalios", "message": "Prince Astalios collapsed in pain, the weight of the world upon his shoulders, gold painful upon his head. He gritted his teeth, and repeated to himself that he could not cry out, could not concede - the dream had not yet even begun, and who was he to run from it?\n\nBut the pain!\n\nIt stabbed at him like a thousand knives, burned like a hundred suns, and hit him with the guilt of a million battles enjoyed and taken part in. His veins screamed at him like steel on steel, the squeal of the battlefield, swords scraping against armor and axes against bones. He could not look away, but he could stare back at the eye, and not try to turn his head. There was nothing but the dot and the soul of the prince, staring back at one another.\n\nWhat did the dot see? What too did the prince?" }, { "author": "The Weaver of Stories", "message": "As this dot or eye or whatever it may have been stared at the prince, that feeling of terrifying dread only increased tenfold. This did not feel like a god, no, it felt darker. Much more horrible and gruesome than what many have described when being reached out to by one of the gods. Not even the tales and myths of those who have lived to see the God of Death himself have spoken of such a terrifying and painful feeling. This was no god. This was not Anthron.\n\nAs quickly as all this feeling of dread and sorrow appeared, it disappeared. A different, more familiar warmth washed over Astalios. Victory, triumph, pride; the feeling of winning a battle over a difficult enemy. Adrenaline coursed through the prince's veins and that weight was soon lifted as cries of victory echoed through his mind. The darkness disappeared, and visions of soldiers cheering on the king, queen and prince could be seen. Visions of towns and cities thanking the gods for their rulers, for the safety it gave them. Almost as if the prince were flying through a vision of what could be, what could happen." }, { "author": "Prince Astalios", "message": "Whatever it had been, there was no escaping it. But now the soothing pride of victory covered him - glory rested on his shoulders like a soft cloak, an aura that gave those around him peace and his own visage radiance. There were none that had escaped him, none that stood against the hammer.\n\nTowns and cities gave thanks. Roses and triumphs rang through his mind like the calls of a bell singing of victory, of prosperity, and of feasting. It was paradise.\n\nHe rode through city streets astride Tempest, the horse bearing garlands, and he knew that in this dream, in this vision, he had won this pride through hard conflict, earned it slowly and surely. They thanked the gods for him, for his family, that they lived in Alynthi... And it was brought through victory.\n\nWas that his purpose? Was it his way to strive to win battles? Was that why he enjoyed the feeling of battle so?" }, { "author": "The Weaver of Stories", "message": "As roses were thrown about on the street before him and people cheered the princes family name, their faces ever so slowly began to twist. The smiles became saddened, but the cheers continued. The countless decorations of flowers across each house and over the various fences began to wilt and decay, and soon enough the smell of ash and fire hit the prince's nose like a brick wall. The cheers became screams, and that red dot that loomed so high in the sky returned. People in the street were crying, screaming, dying, \"Why didn't you help us?! Why couldn't you stop it?!\" The fires began to consume the children and mothers and fathers that were once cheering the prince's name, and from beneath him, Tempest was soon enveloped in flames as well.\n\nThrough all the chaos and destruction that now seemed to surround the prince, his heart filled with that victory and longing for battle. It was not a feeling of pride over the destruction around him as if it were his own doing, no. But that swelling feeling was soon followed by a voice speaking a simple word. The sound of the obviously male voice echoed and boomed almost from the inside out, as if the prince's own heart was speaking to him. It was almost as if that voice was the one thing stopping the death and destruction around Astalios from reaching him, almost like a shield and sword at his side and in his heart.\n\nThere was nothing but one simple word.\n\n*\"Prepare.\"*" } ]	212.5	1,827
925	2022-07-14	GuildTextChat	[ { "author": "Caleesi \| Grandmaster of Magic", "message": "Gentle was the air that whispered through milky white curtains of a single, yet large bedroom for one particular soul. The softened clamor of luggage rustled together before inevitably Thumping To the ground– followed by the heavy sigh from a rather delicate voice. Caleesi Scarleth had never truly been this far within the Alynthi castle since she was nothing much more than a baby. Always cradled at her mothers hip as she watched royalty dance along the outstretched ballroom just downstairs from her newly assigned room. Part of those memories created a small divot in the high elf's stomach, thinking back to her days with her parents. Although that woe was quickly replaced with a bittersweet smile as Cali reminded herself that her mother would be proud of her now. After all, she had become the very thing she worked so hard for... A Grandmaster. \n\nTaking in the spacious atmosphere, Caleesi's wide blue eyes explored each and every crevice and embroidered detail that the royal room had to offer. From a lavish queen sized bed, to the sizable mini fireplace surrounded by a one person desk already littered with the sorceresses books. It was dusk however when Scarleth had arrived- traveling all night to make it before morning. Her first job started at dawn however... And although the work in question was far from her ideal of being on a council, Caleesi respected it nonetheless. Attending a festival of all things- who knew? The idea of being surrounded by millions of strangers, let alone royalty was nerve racking enough as it was. But nothing this former High Lady couldn't handle. Even so, the bite of 'what if Still nipped at the back of her well pointed ears. \n\n_ _\n\nWhat if the prince didn't like her? Much less remembered her. Despite their adolescence- Caleesi fondly remembered the little boy who attended each and every family gathering in celebration of the king and queen. While the two only held simi-frequent conversations with one another, the high elf got a good chuckle out of his company. She could always notice him in the middle of a crowded room, or amongst the faces of a million strangers. The prince had a whimsical way about himself back then. Smiling and parading around like the beacon of joy for his people.Nevertheless, part of Caleesi liked to think maybe Astalios remembered her face too. But perhaps that was just silly to think about. She may not have held the title of a princess, let alone true royalty, though always found herself constantly surrounded by it. \n\nTaking a moment to pull off her worn in clothes and trade them in for a small silk nightgown, Caleesi sauntered over near the decorative window and sat silently upon the ledge. The high elf pulled her long legs to her chest, wrapping those feminine arms around her knees before resting her head within her lap. The sounds of silence became quiet deafoning at these hours, even when the poor woman's mind seemed to race endlessly with thoughts. Tilting her chin up to prop onto her forearm- Cali watched the calm, deep midnight blue sky from her rose painted window. The moon still shining down tenderly on her just as it did in her times of need. Caleesi took a deep breath in through her nose before letting it blow out rather harshly- still stuck on what she should or could do to make the best impression tomorrow... \n\nWho knew that even the most level headed people still concerned themselves with the jitters?\n\|\|" }, { "author": "Songbird Karl", "message": "As the wind gently blew against the castle, causing the mighty stone to groan in silent anger and stress, a small starling landing on the roof above the royal quarters, nestling onto the shingles. The bird stared out into the sky, chuckling softly at the blue wonder in front of him. He always liked the night-sky. That wasn't really fair, though. He liked most things. Sun rises, sun sets, the moon. He always found himself getting lost in that cosmic beauty. The infinity laid out in front of him. Part of that joy definitely stemmed from the ability to fly between the stars. He always felt so in tune with the realm while flying. Watching everyone below him lead happy lives. Living in pure, unadulterated peace. He loved that. Always had. But there were some nights when that peace was interrupted. He could always feel them, you know. The insomniacs lying up at night, nervous to face the next day. Not like he had anything better to do, right? He was absolutely willing to make someone smile instead of sleeping.\n\nIn an instant, the bird swapped forms with a man, covered in dark, concealing clothing. A hood was draped over his head, and his face was covered with tightly fitting rags. Thin enough to allow him to breathe, of course. Quickly, he crouched down, rolling out a large piece of leather holding all of his tools. He removed a small hook with a smile, taking care to latch it onto the roof. Reaching on his back, he removed a long piece of rope, quickly fitting it through a small notch in the hook. Testing it for weight, he deemed it strong enough, quickly taking a few steps to the end of the sloping tower. His feet collided with the thick stone of the castle, and slowly, Karl lowered himself down, whispering quietly to himself as he went. 'Fifth window down on the left... Fifth window down on the left...\" He reminded himself repeatedly, humming a tune. A tune that would slowly pierce Caleesi's ears.\n\nSoon, a pair of red eyes would descend from the top of Calee\n\nSi's window, quickly taking a peek into the room. Quickly, a bandaged hand would follow, offering a small, quiet wave. Karl quickly cut himself from the rope, falling down onto the windowsill with the grace of a house-cat. He waved once more, chuckling softly. \"Hope I'm not intruding.\" He said in a sweet, cheery voice, reaching to his waist to remove a small fife. It was slimmed down and undecorated, clearly brought entirely for the effectiveness, not the looks. \"Caleesi, right? New Grandmaster? Pleasure to meet you.\" He said, gripping the fife tightly in his hand. She was more beautiful than he had expected. His little birds had told him she was pretty, but she was PRETTY. He shrugged it off, offering a visible smile underneath his face-mask.\n\n\"I'm the Songbird, by the way.\" He said, nodding quietly. Quietly, he raised the fife to his lips, beginning to blow out a short and sweet song. From the corner of his mouth, he began to sing, somehow juggling both playing the fife and singing. \"To your happiness, Miss Caleesi.\" \n\nThe tune was quiet but sweet, the lyrics piercing Caleesi's ears in a rough, yet gentle manner. \n\n\"Folks gather 'round for I'll tell you a tale\nYes fill up your cisterns and drink down your ale\nFor I'll spin you a story of a magician so strong\nHer magical will hath done strung us along\n\nSo cheer, cheer, loud so she'll hear!\nYes cheer, cheer, for the wondrous years!\n\nHere comes Caleesi, so strong and so brave\nWith her magical hands she casts down the knaves\nA bringer of peace and of beauty immense\nA glorious age she's set to commence\n\nSo cheer, cheer, loud so she'll hear!\nYes cheer, cheer, for the wondrous years!\n\nNow my friends, I am sad to say\nThe time has come for us to go our separate ways\nBut look to your heart for guidance and smarts\nKnow that Caleesi is in all of our hearts\n\nSo cheer, cheer, loud so she'll hear!\nYes cheer, cheer, for the wondrous years!\"" }, { "author": "Caleesi \| Grandmaster of Magic", "message": "With the chirrs and thrums of the outside world echoing into the castle walls, subsequently causing a much more eerie noise to reflect out into the air- Caleesi sprained her brows ever so slightly. Alynthi was beautiful, that much she always knew. However, with how much she would have to get accustomed to up here in the massive wonderland that was the stronghold of a fortress- the high elf knew she would have to get used to the howling of the wind from time to time. A chill that abruptly breezed by the window had shivered poor Cali enough to stand up and fall closer towards her firepit. Leaning onto one of the bed poles, the sorceress hovered her sleepy gaze over the fresh log wood before raising her fingers in front of her- speaking out in a hush. \"Incendia.\" Within seconds, the under barrel of the logs began to quake and tremble. Jolting around until sparks of embers sputtered from the center, finally exploding with elegance as a flame danced around. Growing brighter and brighter- the lulling orange hues reflecting softly against the tapestry, creating a homely ambiance. \n\nCaleesi watches as each crackle breathed among the burning wood, ripping the layers apart only to fuel the flames further. Those same flames swayed within the reflection of the grand mistress's eyes, making her eyelids fold with a heaviness that craved for sleep. In those moments, Cali switched from wondering about her duties to debating on which pillow she'd be resting her head on tonight. However, that thought didn't linger long. Because now the sounds of unfamiliar footsteps padding against stone caught her ears. At first, the woman thought it was nothing more than a guard patrolling the halls. Yet, when she fixed her senses towards the door... Nothing. Puzzled by this, Caleesi shifted on her hip and twisted herself around slowly. The sounds of whispers creeping up on her elven ears as if it were breathing on her skin.\n\nNarrowing her eyes, the high elf tip toed her way back towards her window, a million thoughts running through her mind. \n\n_ _\n\nWas someone really trying to break into her room right now?\nWas someone Really Trying to break into the Castle Right now??\nBetter yet, who would be stupid enough to do so?\n\nMagic fiddled within Caleesi's palms as she cautiously grew closer towards her windowsill. The strange sounds of a melody faintly drew the woman in, and once she was face to face with the breach of the wall- about to stick her head out of it–A looming figure of black rolled from up above her. Along with the eerie sight of red eyes piercing into her ocean blues. Cali's face widened in alarm, panic revealing itself outwardly as she jumped back in a shudder. Surprisingly, a yelp shrieked from the young woman's lips; though, she was quick to hush herself by slamming her hand against her mouth. Not trying to wake anyone. As the figure slinked its way into the window, waving and relaxing himself as if this was something he did often, Caleesi looked on in much less horror but confusion. Shocked from it all. Opening her mouth to speak, the high elf's lips failed to make sense of what was going on. Nevertheless, as the man introduced himself- a faint memory clicked in her absent mind. \n\nUpon the music that the songbird gently played, Caleesi's expression had completely melted from its perplexed state and into a far more softer and flattered gaze. Those high cheekbones kissed a rosy pink while a smile sat between them, admiring the presence of the bard she had only ever heard stories about from her district long ago. Slowly, the sorceress made her way over to her bed that sat inches from her window. Sitting down respectfully as she devoted her humbling attention onto the man with nothing more than a tender stare. Stars seemed to sparkle in the high elf's eyes as she admired his voice, and all the sweet words he hummed to her. Parts of them even flustering the mistress as she could be seen enthusiastically raising a brow along with a chuckle or two.\n\n_ _\n\nOnce the music died down, and the songbird's tune came to an end, Caleesi lifted her hands up to cast an illusion. The mist of a bird, far similar to the mask he wore soared briefly into the air, circling around a few times before diving down and sitting on the man's shoulder. Mimicking the twitchiness of most observant fledglings, the bird cocked its head towards the fife, and back to the song bird before opening its beak to speak– The voice that came out of the illusion however was Caleesi. Her gentle and soothing tone murmuring out through the magic as she voiced, \"Thank you, Songbird.\" Soon, the illusion would die out. Like a breeze that drifted in the wind, the shimmering off white mist fizzled away into nothingness. \"If i would have known I was going to have company, I would have made you some tea for your generous talents. I hope you can forgive me.\" Caleesi offered a gentle smile as she pulled her hands back into her lap gracefully, the sparkle in her eyes still gleaming. \n\|\|" } ]	934	2,775
784.25	2022-07-15	GuildTextChat	[ { "author": "Songbird Karl", "message": "Underneath the cloth wrapped around his face, Karl blushed wildly as he moved to pack his fife away, watching as the conjured bird moved to land on his shoulder. That was... Sweet. He grinned heavily, raising a hand to pat the magical bird on the head. He always had a soft spot for the little creatures. He had always loved birds. The smaller ones, of course. Songbirds were quite obviously his favorite. He held a certain dismay for larger fowl, finding hawks and eagles too close to the form of the Wretched Herald for comfort. His smile only grew even larger as it's beak erupted with the beautiful, gentle voice of Caleesi. He was truly ashamed to see it go, but nodded all the same, now able to gaze back towards Caleesi's visage. He was still stuck on her face, inspecting every gentle curve of it. He almost felt selfish, knowing how he was allowed to gaze upon her beauty while she was stuck with his mask. Eh. She'd have to get over it. He chuckled as she smiled, raising his hand towards her.\n\n\"Not a problem at all, Miss Caleesi. An audience with you is all I need.\" He smiled, moving to relax on the windowsill. He sat against the warmed stone, nestling into the corner like a bird finding it's nest. He hummed softly for a moment, his eyes gazing back to the night sky. It was a strange thought, but he wondered if she remembered him. He'd been across the realm multiple times. Played for many young royals. It was his favorite thing to do, really. He always liked sitting in the windows of young royals, playing cute little tunes to prepare them for the day coming ahead. He looked back to Caleesi, seeing that same young girl he had played for all those nights ago. She was prettier now, though. And smarter. A lot calmer. She'd grown up. It was worthy of a hefty smile and a light chuckle. He stopped himself prematurely, trying avoid feeling a sense of attachment. This was just another visit. He'd done them all before. This one wasn't any different.\n\n\"Nervous?\" Karl asked, staring off towards the fire. He didn't want to keep looking at her. Didn't want to make her feel uncomfortable. But there was a sense deep inside him that almost forced him to look back at her. His eyes slowly darted back over, meeting hers. His were red, but they seemed calm. They portrayed a sense of kindness. Of safety. Of joy. They were red, but they were cozy and comforting. Eyes you could get lost in. \"Don't be. If that bird is any show of your ability, you'll make for an excellent grandmaster. Besides, Thunder Fest isn't a big deal. Just time to have fun.\" He chuckled, sighing as he leaned against the palm of his gloved hand. She only really got prettier the more you looked at her, didn't she? \"And don't worry about the tea. You don't have to be that cordial. Especially considering I am technically breaking into your room.\" He laughed heartily, shaking his head at his own joke. This was nice. He could've been doing so many worse things, couldn't he?" }, { "author": "Caleesi \| Grandmaster of Magic", "message": "That angelic looking smile continued to radiate dazzlingly under the dimly lit room. Never had Caleesi had such a heartfelt performance made just for her... Let alone a charitable soul to provide it. Karl's words of courtship caused the young woman to blush unexpectedly, as her face could be seen heating up around the apples of her cheeks and up her ears. Though, the high elf was quick to shake her head bashfully, looking away for a moment to compose herself. That wide grin stung her face as if it was a muscle she had not used in such a long time- Cali pursed her lips to refrain the silly smirk, though there was no hiding it. Giving a faint giggle, the grand mistress pulled a few strands of her golden blond hair behind her ears, finally bringing her attention back to the man. \n\n\"Please, you flatter me good sir. Do you always say that to every person you sing to?\" \n\nTeasingly, Caleesi raised a brow towards the songbird. Of course he must've buttered up all his guests, as is the life of a performer. Nevertheless, Cali knew his kindness would stick with her. His next words however, caused something close to a shiver that resonated within her chest. Shifting ever so slightly in her seat, the elven woman fixed her eyes elsewhere for a moment. In truth, she was nervous at first. As would she be around any man who decided to slip through her window- much less walk through her front door. But of course the songbird didn't know her reasons as to why, which meant he must have thought her reaction from earlier could have been taken as offensive. Playing it back in her head now, Caleesi couldn't help but give an airy laugh. \"No,\" The high elf started, tracing her tongue playfully over her teeth before flashing a gentle smile once more. \"Just surprised. It's not every day you get to be greeted by the wondrous songbird, no?\" Caleesi traced her blue eyes over towards Karl in a careful attempt to meet his gaze.\n\nAnd as the two naturally locked onto one another's glowing hues, a warmth began to wash over them both within the silence. \n\n_ _\n\nSomething about the man's abnormal red eyes made Cali fall under a hypnotic stare. She couldn't quite understand how they held such a softness to them, almost as if they screamed for recognition. For an understanding that they were harmless. Watching as Karl pulled his attention away to bask in the fireplace, Caleesi took that time to observe the rest of the shapeshifter in his human form. For such a kind guy, he surely didn't dress the part. Though, perhaps that was just the ignorance talking in the woman's mind. As the silence crept in further, Cali opted to speak up. However, her voice came out hushed. Almost as if she were hesitant to speak. \"You know.. My parents, they would tell me stories about you.\" Swallowing the lump in her throat, the high elf carried on. \"Of a spirited starling who searched the skies for those who had lost their spirits long ago... You were the reason a lot of people still carry on today.\" \n\nAs Karl allowed his focus to return to the grand mistress, inevitably locking eyes once more- Caleesi could see the gentle flame sway in those red hues. Finally, something clicked. The reason she was so captivated, so curious about this man. It was because he reminded her of home. Of her parents so long ago. Pulling her bottom lip into her mouth in thought, Caleesi offered one final smile before bowing her head in grace. \"So thank you, songbird.\" Once she lifted her head, a small sigh drew from the woman's lips as she rolled her eyes in a sort of carefree motion, thinking back on what Karl had said about the festival. \"Well, you're one to talk. You Are far more cordial than i. Besides, i haven't been to an event in years..\" Shifting her gaze elsewhere, the light in Caleesi's eyes seemed to dim a bit. \"I wonder if i will still fit in, you know?\"\n\|\|" }, { "author": "Songbird Karl", "message": "\"I do, but I mean it every time I say it. I'm always genuine. Every word I say, I mean.\"\n\nHe smiled, giggling slightly at her flushed and embarrassed nature. He never buttered people up. He found it counter-intuitive. Fake smiles and ingenuine laughs were never his forte. He didn't like telling people the things they wanted to hear, he liked telling people what he knew would truly make them smile. And he did mean what he said. Compared to the people he had sung to recently, Caleesi had been the most interesting by far. The rest had all been scared or angry, trying to kick him away. But Caleesi remembered him. Caleesi knew why he was here. She appreciated him being here. That wasn't a feeling he was really used to. He was a baron of happiness, of course, but most didn't really WANT to feel happy. He understood that, of course. It didn't discourage him. But he still wasn't quite used to that feeling. To be wanted. Even if it was a surprise, Caleesi was glad he was here. To say he flushed heavily under his mask was an understatement. Never before was he happier to be hidden.\n\n\"I-I-I...\" Karl frantically seemed to try and search for words, juggling thousands of thoughts in his mind. His relaxed demeanor was reduced to that of a flustered child, scrambling to find some sort of mental stability. Even his smoothed out sitting position was disrupted, his legs immediately smashing into his thighs. Quickly, he swung over towards Caleesi, his feet finding the wooden floor of her quarters. With a surprisingly silent thud, they landed on the hardwood, and Karl's gloved hands found their way to his chin, allowing him to rest on his knees. \"I don't know about that. I just like to make people smile.\" He shrugged, grinning awkwardly under the cloth. The thought that anyone could've ever relied on her for mental stability was... Terrifying. He liked spreading joy, but he didn't know if he could shoulder that responsibility. To know that hundreds, maybe thousands of people a\n\nRe still alive because of him was... Paramount. Infinite. Grandiose. Terrifying.\n\nHe gazed back towards her, happy to meet her crystalline gaze. Gods was she beautiful. It felt terrifying to know that he now carried the burden of her happiness. That she had blushed because of him. That she was so... Embarrassed but happy. Because of him. He quietly cleared his throat, his eyes refusing to leave hers as he stood, slowly and silently standing back on the windowsill. He hated to leave her, but he didn't know if he could still stay here. He wanted to waste the night with her, but she had business to attend to tomorrow, didn't she? Her work, her happiness, and her feelings were far more important than his. That's how it was with everyone. She was no different, and she'd never be any different. \"You'll fit in. I'm sure of it. Just walk proud. One look at that smile will warm the hearts of all of your subjects, I can assure you. It's warmed mine.\" He grinned, giggly softly. He gazed back out into the night sky for a moment, before turning back to Caleesi one final time. His voice somewhat solemn, but always infected with the tune of happiness. \"If you ever need me, Caleesi, I'll be there. Just ask for me. It'll be my pleasure to bring a smile to your face once more.\" He flashed a cheshire grin, chuckling as he spoke. \"And it's Karl. You don't have to keep calling me Songbird.\" \n\nQuickly, he shifted back into a bird, the moon reflecting off of his lavender spotted wings. The fowl quickly flashed a solemn bow before darting out of the room, disappearing into the night sky." }, { "author": "Caleesi \| Grandmaster of Magic", "message": "Watching just how antsy the shapeshifter had become, Caleesi couldn't help but toss her head back in amusement as sweet-flowing giggles blew from her peach lips. She was used to the occasional flustered individuals who had the chance of speaking to her, knowing that her appearance more than likely caused one's flesh to rise shades of pink. Cali never truly understood what others saw in her, be it beauty of course. It had been years since the high elf ever thought of herself as a beautiful soul, let alone a soul at all. In her mind, she was merely a servant to the greater good. Not that it was a bad thing, given Caleesi knew her powerful place in the world. She just simply chose to be of use rather than be the problem. Nevertheless, the elven woman sought comfort in Karl for tonight. Even in his silly rambles to pull himself together, she appreciated his genuine nature. \n\n\"Well, I do believe you should give yourself more credit than you lead on. Without your songs to guide broken minds, I don't think there would be half as many smiling faces. Don't you think so?\" \n\nPursing her lips into a slight smirk, Caleesi took note of the resistance in the songbird's eyes. Call it a hunch, but she could read him like a book. The eyes were a window to the soul, and in all the young woman's years of learning, she knew that very well. Picking up on the language of the body, and all its mysterious ways of sending signs- Cali could sense the battle within the bard. Though, what for, she couldn't quite put a finger on. Tilting her head, locks of simi-long and wild blonde curls draped down the side of the woman's face and bare shoulders. Her crystal blue gaze searching for the answers in his hymn of red. But alas, Karl had turned away and thus was their window closing for just another moment of solitude. \n_ _\n\nCaleesi slowly stood out of respect for her guest's departure, giving a gentle nod of the head in acknowledgement to his last words. However, as the shapeshifter morphed into his feathered side and took off for the midnight sky, Cali pulled some of her own strings and sent that same illusion of his favorite bird after him. Its pale, translucent figure drifted alongside Karl as it chirped in contentment. Suddenly, the chirps became more rhythmic, and soon the tune of the song Karl had played for Caleesi was singing into the air. Only this time the tempo was slower than his as the magic bird opened its beak to sing– The voice was none other than the grand mistress of course, her voice was soft, dainty and slow just as the tempo of the song she had now revised as her own. A song made just for him.\n_ _\n\n```'Folks gather 'round for I'll tell you a tale, \nOf one so sweet, you'll never feel stale.\nFor I'll spin you a story of a the songbird- so wild\nHis magical tone, it'll make you cheer mad.\n So cheer, cheer, loud so he'll hear.\nYes cheer, cheer, for the wondrous years~\nHere comes the songbird, so swift and so brave \nWith his fife in hand, no stranger shall stray.\nA bringer of peace and friendship so strong,\nA beacon of light, always singing his song.\n So cheer, cheer, loud so he'll hear~\nYes cheer, cheer, for the wondrous years```" } ]	783	3,137
746	2023-07-19	GuildTextChat	[ { "author": "Astalios, Iron King", "message": "A pair of ladies gossiping in the hall was no news to him - and as he approached, the curtsies were expected as a courtesy. He would have continued on with only a nod - but one of them asked a question - a pertinent question - and there was no reason to refuse now that would not offend a member of the court. He had half a mind to do so anyway, to simply keep walking and leave the inquiry unanswered, but perhaps here was an opportunity to kill two birds with one stone. There were many minor nobles that could be forewarned of the preparations they would have to make.\n\n\"My Lady.\" He slowed to a stop, inclining his head respectfully to answer the question. An elven lady, with green eyes and black hair - he was sure he had seen here somewhere or other, but for the life of him he could not remember the name. But the crest he could never forget - they had been drilled into him over the course of his life, to memorize which banners belonged to which houses, which was friend and which was foe. That particular crest of flowers meant House Pierrepont, of the Duchy of Willowdale. She would meet with Leonyra soon enough, if the latter had taken what he had said to heart.\n\nIt was not often they saw so many diplomats, that was true - but they were leaving or gone by now, thank the gods. He did not think he could bear another snide, egoistic suggestion from men who did not listen to what had already been said, or thought themselves more intelligent than they truly were. No man was infallible, that was certain. To place oneself on a pedestal was one of the great dangers of life, in a way. It blinded you to your own faults, when they were the most important details to keep in mind.\n\n\"The summit has proceeded as well as can be expected, I should think.\" He answered cautiously. It had been a tad strained, but there was some measure of cooperation to come from what had been agreed. They would be meeting in Gantrick very soon, troupes of scholars and historians alongside them.\n\n_ _\nGods send that the tenuous agreements held. It was more than national lines, of course - the fate of the world rested upon every banner, every life, every mile of land. Hopefully, the rest of them could see that. He was not left with much to work with outside of his allies - Princess Irezora was helpful enough, and Princess Alithia certainly had saved the conference with a well-timed intervention at a flash point in the negotiations. Neither king had been present, though - and that worried him a great deal. \n\nOutside of them, the Kara-tur delegation was inscrutable, and perhaps it amounted to nothing after all their efforts - they had pledged nothing. The Khisfirian boy was insulting and spoiled, though he professed himself a soldier. There was nothing that so irked him as his lack of attention. Alyus, surprisingly, had taken the reasonable path. What might otherwise have been a disaster had been possible through some cooperation there - but he was still the overgrown child, and he knew nothing of his true intentions. Queen Dhakashira was another issue entirely - she Knew.\n\n\"We are preparing for our reconvention in three days. Gantrick Castle is hosting a research symposium of sorts as we begin to organize efforts to untangle the events of Sorevelle.\" He related simply, face a stern mask, as it usually was. He disliked being kept in one place for too long when he had business elsewhere - but such was court life. \"It is likely you will be asked to provide scholars of repute, My Lady. We need all we can muster.\"" }, { "author": "Lady Eleanore Pierrepont", "message": "Upon his reply, the movement of that curtsey slowly eased. Eyes previously lowered gently raised to meet with the King, attentive on the more direct tones of this Warrior at heart. The others would follow along, too, though blend far more into the background. Afterall, it was this emerald-clad woman who spoke up. Her flowery gown offering now more distinction upon closer look. - every detail perhaps intended, considered for the next day. How a ruler may plan his next day of meets and the settling of matters, a Lady like her held importance to appearance for herself and the portrayal of her Family in the very court. Especially right now, to a King who offered reply. A privilege, as well as an opportunity for introduction.\n\nAs well as can be expected.\n\nWords with many meaning, she thought. To Eleanore, it spoke of a mixed reaction. Uncertainty, familiar with the fate of working with former enemies not too long ago. As hard it was to admit faults in a meet, so too was it to admit her honest thoughts on the matter aswell. There was an expectation to find a response both diplomatic, yet also not so familiar as every Noble who seeked to appease a King. Not boring, as some would say. \n.\n\nA glint of understanding and acknowledgement seemed apparent in those eyes, silence remaining as she allowed the King to finish his next piece. A research symposium in Gantrick Castle? Now that was news that surprised her. The Bear King of the North was a common tale, one of the usual antagonistic flair. Cooperation with him was certainly an intriguing one to Eleanore, either speaking to the skills of the King himself or the sheer desperation of the matter at hand. Little time would be given to think, however, as the King directed his words onto her. Finally, the time had come for reply. \n\n\"..And provide them we shall, Your Majesty.\" - The briefest of nods came to show, the appearance of a smile however faint seeming to brighten as her words seemed to add on. An explanation, suited in the softness of her Noble tone. \"My Father told me of your efforts in Dazvas. An honour, he said, to have served alongside you in those dreary days. It would be unbecoming of me not to offer such support.\" - For what she lacked in the knowledge of war, Eleanore would relate to family history and her own personal touch. A Lady in a Court may seem uninteresting to a Man so entrenched with duty and the constant conflicts that distracted him. There, she seemed willing to offer calm counsel. \n\nThe topic of Gantrick seemed almost perfect to vantage her way from. - A dangerous land, where outsiders rarely survive such trips. It was clear before that such a topic showed a tinge of concern, but her further words would only reflect it far more. \n\n\"And.. Gantrick Castle? Rarely does the duty of a King not surprise me, Your Majesty. I only hope for your safety in such a place.\"" }, { "author": "Astalios, Iron King", "message": "Lord Renard Pierrepont was a serviceable cavalry commander, he recalled - useful in battle, and seemingly older than time. The ageless quality of most elves was present within him, and he might not have known the man was old enough to daughter were it not for the time spent memorizing families and names. That was the trouble with elves, he thought - even though he was half-elven himself, he would age over his lifetime as humans did. One always knew how old a half-elf was, relatively.\n\nBut older elves were impossible to gauge, always youthful in old age, able to hide what they wished within their expressions or turns of phrase. Perhaps it was also true with his daughter. She could be forty years his senior, and he would never know - her hair would be just as dark, never showing the strains of silver that might show within some half-elves at the age of seventy. Her dress was uncommonly detailed - fine needlework, of course, but most ladies of the court put much effort into the smallest of frills.\n\n\"Your father is Lord Renard.\" He stated rather than questioned, voice as firm as an old oak. \"Extend my regards to him when you see him next, my lady.\" The man had not failed him in any way he could recall - and it was good to remember the men that had served under you, from the lowest stations to the highest. Nobility were not exempted from this, of course - especially the commanders that ranged from 'acceptable' to 'excellent' among them.\n\nPrince Temperance was not the only mentor he had learned from during his time at the front, and the men-at-arms that had been the most instructive were often old thatchers or fletchers or bakers, made into soldiers. To pay their loyalty back with his own was simply the only way to proceed honorably. He could never forget the men that had risked their lives in his service, lest he take them for granted.\n\n_ _\nThere was something in her eyes - the hint that she knew something. Most of the ladies of the court were clever, of course. He doubted that they had just simply happened to be talking in the corridor he happened to pass through on his way from the throne room to the study. Court life consisted of many carefully laid traps. Perhaps he ought to employ one of these strategists on his staff, to inform him of the comings and goings of such-and-such minister and how his wife's dress was blue, which meant he wasn't sleeping well. He was constantly both impressed with and appalled by the workings of the court in that way.\n\n\"Gantrick Castle.\" He maintained in an even tone, keeping his face impassive as ever. \"My presence is required. Otherwise, the gesture of trust will be empty.\" Neither, he thought, was he a coward to run and hide from the shadow of an overgrown boy. The kingdoms of the world needed to see them working together, side by side, to realize the severity of the changes that were about to happen. Gantrick and Alynthi were not friendly by any means - and courts the world over were very well aware of that.\n\nIt was sure to cause a buzz, he knew - and he could scarcely predict the outcome. Even though this came from the horse's mouth, it would soon be shattered by the rumor mill into a thousand different pieces, each disparate and strange to hear back. \"I cannot let the work of the summit be unraveled. I must go. I am sure you understand, my lady.\"" }, { "author": "Lady Eleanore Pierrepont", "message": "The difficulties of deciphering the mysteries of Elven youth was one thing. It was true that such a concept could deceive and hide the reality of one's age. Eleanore, still with her beauty and looks, could have been nearing 80 and yet never once shown such a long life. It would only make it more surprising to learn that the Young She-Elf was infact a tinge younger than the Iron King. The Pierrepont's were a family of mixed Elves. A strange unity between High and Wood Elves that mellowed out through their shared interest in the land and Noble matters. The Lady certainly bore the elegance of a High Elf, aswell as the more homely manner of a Wood Elf. Her height, shortened. Her hair, avoiding the rays of blonde typically found on the High Elves. A style that wouldn't follow the complete trend of the court, a need to differ that most likely filled the thoughts of all members of the Alynthian Nobility. \n\nIt would be a good sign that the King knew well of her Father, a smile apparent as Astalios spoke directly and without need for much assistance. \"I will, Your Majesty.\" - A soft nod of her head sealed her acknowledgement, simple courtesy extended between the two. Eleanore would not attempt to pry further for the moment, choosing her battles wisely as she sought a new path that revealed itself. - an openness of the summit. \n\nThe curiosity of those eyes was well guided for the King. Behind the colourful green, there ticked the well groomed thoughts of a Courtly Lady. Unlike the battlefields of Dazvas or other places that the King seemed used to, the Courts were a battle with words. Eleanore seemed well versed in this field, suited for the gossip and political theater. While not entirely planned to catch her King's attentions, the opportunity was one to squander. - especially with the wants of her Father and the legacy she wished to leave behind. \n.\n\nThe impassive nature of the King seemed to intrigue her, Eleanore not taking it as dismissal of her character but the state of a man so used to orders and war. It seemed more a game to see if a King could crack, to show the potential of a smile or something else. - But in times like this, a far harder challenge. Regardless, the matter of Gantrick and Alynthi working together was not lost on her. The issue seemed most remarkable in hindsight, and revealed just how grave the look of the future seemed. The Iron King was known for rarely catching a break, so she imagined the man most tired of all of this. \n\n\"..Your presence there would show clear legitimacy, My King. I only hope this gesture of trust will be respected by your host.\" The Lady seemed to add her piece, the words seeming to cleverly catch the mixed tone of care aswell as subtle experience. Her point was not to impose on the thoughts of Astalios, far from it. - Instead, to offer quiet reasoning.\n\nHer tinge of caution seemed to mellow out in that understanding, a softer expression lingering on the neutral tones of the King who seemed driven in his actions. Clearly, she couldn't help but admire it. \n\n\"I do understand, Your Majesty. You must go, that is clear.\" Eleanore only further extended her support, her words far more direct yet not commanding. Her words wouldn't end just yet however, a moment of silence lingering until her speech returned. \"-.. Forgive me, but I must admit my own feelings of.. Inaction. Our King goes off for the good of the Realm, and the Courts simply continue. I wish to know if I can do more for my King. The scholars my family will help provide, but is there anything that I myself can offer?\"\n\nIt would be difficult to decipher if this were deception or a genuine interest, but Eleanore seemed keen as she spoke with a combination of driven emotion and composure. By now, she imagined the other Ladies a simple blur in relevancy. Clearly, she knew her talents well." } ]	757	2,984
849	2023-09-14	GuildTextChat	[ { "author": "Astalios, Iron King", "message": "She did not seem uncomfortable, at least - he was grateful for that fact. A little stiff in the beginning, when he had placed the chair across from his desk, but she softened up quickly as he opened his mouth to speak with her. Perhaps he had not spoken the most formally to her, and that was what had finally bridged the small gap between them. In any case, it was done with now, and he could only proceed with what he had seen.\n\nOpenness was a strong word. Several secrets yet lurked within him, not the least of which flowed through his soul like an undercurrent that threatened to drag him out into a sea of blood and fire. At Sorevelle, when the drow queen had discovered this secret, he had stated that he would reveal the secret to his allies one at a time, making sure that they knew what was to be done and what he knew, in a calm setting. This was hardly the time, though - there were matters of state to attend to - but after those had ended, he could gauge whether Princess Irezora was one to keep a secret.\n\n\"That fool boy.\" He let out a long breath that hissed through his teeth like water thrown upon a fire as he settled more comfortably in his seat. \"There are many insults I can tolerate, but unfortunately for my political career thus far, it is remarkably thin when it comes to making light of my care for my men. To say I consider them Expendable...\" Fury roiled beneath the surface at the word. He knew well what sacrifices they had made, and would be called upon to make in the future.\n\n\"I suppose that too I must learn to ignore or smooth over. As my advisors tell me, politics is the art of communication, most often used to smooth disagreements over in service of a goal.\" His inhale through the nose was heavy and long as he brought his armored gauntlet to the bridge of his nose and grasped it hard, as if a headache plagued him. Many did, but this particular headache was worse than most, and entirely unrelated to physical symptoms.\n\n_ _\n\"I believe some thanks is still necessary. I wish to show gratitude. What I would have said would have doubtless provoked a fight - and it was all too timely for her to intervene.\" Princess Irezora's words made a modicum of sense about a way of thanking her, but what to send if not a gift? A letter? To meet with her personally would be better - but a letter might serve two purposes. First, to thank her, and second, to set up a meeting and get the measure of Temperance's sister. It was high time everyone were brought up to speed, and her father was too sick now to do much of anything while she served as de facto regent.\n\n\"I shall write her a letter. We should meet, as you say - I have been lax in speaking with her properly.\" He sighed, considering the prospect of speaking with yet another woman devoted more to the scholarly arts than to the whims of the court. It was much more agreeable, in his mind - at least he might be able to talk with the two princesses on a purely practical basis. Implication and innuendo went over his head or under his nose far too often for his liking. \"Perhaps we may be able to speak on that scholarly basis after the formal introductions are made.\" His mind seemed to wander for a moment. \"I wonder, though it is unlikely, if she has read any of my publications.\"\n\n\"...I must ask,\" His brow furrowed as he studied her carefully, more curious than anything. \"What exactly have you said here that could cause offense? My... Practice of politics is rusty, of course, but I believe you have by implication neither called me unintelligent nor unsuited for command...?\"" }, { "author": "Princess Irezora Qinrel", "message": "Though her comment on the Prince had been more of a joke, the King's reaction revealed once more that anger he had only nearly suppressed earlier that day. Surely she had found great offense at the boy's words, but it stood to reason how a King or heir might find even more fault with the words chosen. No, the Princess did not think the King saw his people as expendable, just as she was sure the rulers of Findara did not either. \n\nHow he would learn to better ignore and smooth things over, that was yet to be determined. It seemed that thus far his advisors had offered fairly sound advice in that realm, seeing as he mentioned them specifically as a group with influence on his outlook and decisions. This did lead her to wonder who these people were and why it was she sitting across from him at this moment and not them. Perhaps he had already spoken with everyone of any importance who he trusted to help with decisions. Now it was time for some experimentation. That was well enough, she did love a good experiment. \n\nThe frustration evident from his body language was evident. In the end he had shown a great deal of restraint, she was sure, in not giving the Prince a piece of his mind right then and there even after intervention. Tension creasing the edges of his weary face could most likely be blamed, and if she did not believe he might take offense to such a suggestion she might have asked if he wished to continue their conversation the next day. Men could be touchy when it came to matters of capability and pride, this she knew. It would not do to give the King reason to doubt her confidence in him. \n\n\"I believe that would be more appropriate, a meeting to discuss other matters with no specific mention of that specific event. Now if she were to bring the subject up that could be another matter entirely, but I'd say that unless she does there is no need for you to make an explicit effort to show appreciation. Such an act could come across as an attempt to ensure tha\n\nT you owe her no debts for the interaction even though I am sure that is not your intention in issuing such a gesture.\" For a moment she paused, having registered his brief aside about his works. Though she had read quite a few in theory, whether she truly understood their content was another matter entirely. Often her creations might benefit from some deeper understanding of alchemical properties or the way metals can be manipulated while maintaining magical properties, but the subject area simply seemed too vast for her to fully grasp. Such an innate relationship with the substances, she reasoned, must do much for one's understanding.\n\nPerhaps they might discuss further possibilities for collaboration on a later date, at a later time. Perhaps if the world had not been on the brink of war or worse their meetings might have a much lighter tone. Perhaps they would not have met at all. \n\nThe question of what it was she had done... Well... That was more complicated. If he had not seen the potential sligh then his intentions were maybe even more transparent than she had first thought and he was not being humble in the subpar self-rating of communicative aptitude. Providing an answer was simplified by the latter fact though. Last night he had taught her the basics of metallurgic properties, now it was her turn. \n\n\"My previous outright dismissal of your idea to send a gift might have been seen as aloof and my further instruction on the potential mindset of a woman I know very little than you do could have been perceived as condescending. Addressing someone clearly in a greater position by proposing a direct course of action could have been taken as presumptuous, even though my opinion had been asked for.\" She paused for a moment, eyes surveying the lines of his face for any change. \"Not all men mean what they say, Your Majesty. Even fewer listen even when they have asked.\"\n\nShe allowed a moment of silence. Perhaps he might think of the Prince they had both already mentioned, or the Bear King with whom he found some level of disagreement almost immediately. Either way the point was clear. \"There is also the matter of trust. Knowing that my words were not meant to bite, cut, or insult means trusting that my intentions here are good and my offer of aid genuine. Trust is not given easily or freely so as a habit I operate on the assumption that its existence is tenuous at best unless I know otherwise.\" His words the previous night had indicated that at least some level of trust had been built. Afterall, despite all that separated them their goals were nearly one in the same. \n\n\"But a meeting,\" She said, leanin\n\nG backwards slightly. \"A meeting would be good. What then?\"" }, { "author": "Astalios, Iron King", "message": "There were certain things, he thought, that still mystified him in the day-to-day dealings of a king. A meeting was the usual, that he could understand - but to thank her before she brought the subject up was unnecessary? His brow remained deeply creased in a mixture of exhaustion and confusion as he mulled it over. Not to show explicit appreciation? Were they not allied? Whatever else she was, the woman would surely like to know her efforts had neither gone unseen nor ungratefully taken. \n\nAfter a fashion, though, it was understandable from an outside perspective - but even then he was left wondering whether that made sense in the first place. Would an attempt to owe her no debts be the worst act he could possibly commit? It seemed the greater offense to him to not be thanked for such an integral piece of help than to be thanked when none was necessary.\n\n\"...I shall endeavor to stick with the meeting.\" He said after a long moment, letting his breath out in a sigh. It was as if he was immersing himself in the waves waist-deep, walking towards the ocean. There was really no telling how deep the pit of politics could go. \"Though I must admit some confusion as to why that would be seen as an attempt not to owe her anything - friends are not debtors, and we give them thanks still when they assist us.\"\n\nWhat he heard next in fact reversed the direction his eyebrows had been steadily heading - from confusion to a look of mild concern. Outright dismissal of an idea to send a gift - he hadn't even noticed that. Instruction on the mindset of a woman she did not know. He had begun to pick up on the most direct cues, but he was forcibly reminded of just how much he did not know every time he set foot in a room with an experienced courtier or two hanging about in the corners and looking to pounce.\n\n_ _\n \"...Your Highness,\" He asked, shaking his head slightly. \"Why would anyone ask for an opinion they have no intention of listening to?\" There were more points she had brought up, he reminded himself, and he had to ask about them too, lest his curiosity go unsatisfied. \"Those who do not listen when they ask for counsel shall be deaf to the right advice, when it hits their ears. Those who do not plainly keep their word will soon find it is worth nothing. An open ear and a strong word are both necessary qualities in a ruler, are they not?\" \n\nHis father had spoken at length about the importance of honoring agreements kept in this fashion - a promise from a throne was the same whether it was to the lowest of men or the highest of kings. But perhaps... There was another meaning to that. His eyes flickered in recognition the moment after the words had left his mouth, and he realized their meaning.\n\n\"Ah. Both are qualities necessary in a Good Ruler.\" He rectified his earlier mistake a little sheepishly. \"There is no accounting for company who does not believe that is a goal to aspire to - and no accounting for present company, who is a little Too Apt to mean what he says.\" He rubbed his forehead briefly with the palm of his hand, trying to allay the beginnings of a pulsing headache that lurked just behind the temples. Under the golden crow.\n\n\"In that respect, the matter of trust, as you say, may be the most important of all. A good friend will keep a man honest, but if he can no longer trust his friends...\" He shrugged. Precious few friends were here in Varilon, he thought - precious few for a man whose whole kingdom was sworn to the throne he now sat. \"I thought it a reasonable enough proposition to discuss a meeting we had both been present for with you. I would not likely receive honest advice if I do not offer honest opinions.\"" } ]	797	2,547
837.333333	2023-09-17	GuildTextChat	[ { "author": "Astalios, Iron King", "message": "Opinions. He racked his brains for a moment, thinking over the course of the meeting one word at a time. His chin came forward to rest upon his thumbs, fingers laced before his mouth. Thankfully, she seemed amiable enough, and if they were going to work together, it was necessary to be as honest as possible with her. For a moment, he let his eyes close as he pictured each person at the table, each perspective clashing and mixing where they met. A bit like smelting a composite ingot, he thought - mixing each into the primary metal and letting them cool into an alloy.\n\nWhat first came to mind was the startling ease - or relative ease - with which Alyus had agreed to begin the research in Gantrick. He had been expecting more opposition to that particular proposal - which made him suspect either heavy advisory or some sort of trick. Either way, it meant there was something going on behind the scenes.. His eyes snapped open again, fixing the princess across the table from him with a concerned gaze.\n\n\"My first impression is that someone or something is influencing the king of Gantrick's actions in this matter. Normally, much more convincing is needed to get him to accept such a proposal - and whether this is Queen Ashira's advice or some other source, Something Is clearly different. He was far too quick to acquiesce.\" He began to nod along as he put his conclusions into words. \"I wish I knew what went on in his mind. I am no politician, to be sure, but neither am I Alyus. The man's decisions, as far as I have seen, are completely internal - he does as he wishes, regardless of the consequences.\" \n\n\"For evidence of that, we need look no further than his choice of company in the meeting - his Master of Coin, bringing a whip used to beat slaves to a meeting in Alynthi. It could not have been a more flagrant choice if he had intentionally made it.\" He sighed. Golithsin was more contemptible slime than man. \"There must be some added factor I am missing.\"\n\n_ _\nThere was more, of course - that Queen Ashira had been somewhat reasonable was expected. She had acted similarly in their meetings, and when they had spoken in the library she had seemed aware of the situation. Understood the factors that influenced his decisions, knew why it had been difficult even to speak of. The princess from Kara-Tur had been helpful at times - guarded, of course, but what little input she had offered had been in line with the meeting's inquiry, as had Prince Dorian's. That had been roughly in line with what he had expected, as well - they performed their duties relatively well. In the political sphere, from what he knew of it, mundane was the way things were meant to be.\n\n\"In Khisfire, there seems to be a good deal of... Turmoil. We knew as much entering the conference.\" He acknowledged. \"But the way it extends to the royal family is interesting. Brothers in conflict, and none of them, in my opinion, ready to take a throne. The princess is somewhat of an enigma. I do not believe that the prince knew what he was doing at the meeting, nor how to speak to peers. I have had my own struggles with that, but it is hard to see whether he has made an attempt to learn.\"\n\n\"In Lazaroth, too, there is something unseen that continually perplexes me. In my experience, the queen knows how to behave in a political setting - yet she brings those two... Creatures of hers to my kingdom as if they are trusted advisors. What it is that they advise her on I have no idea - so I must assume, as with Alyus, that there is another unseen factor influencing her decision to keep them with her. Enough of a factor that it overrides the risks of their behavior.\" He paused for a moment, thinking over the preparations and the results he had seen.\n\n_ _\n\"The Kara-Tur royalty behaved in a much less condescending manner than I would have expected. The princess that headed the delegation did her job well.\" He remarked finally, capping off his impressions of the meeting. \"I do not know what exactly in my letter finally convinced them to descend, but they did. It is unlikely they will send too much aid, but whatever they do, we must not snub them, or it is unlikely they will send anything again.\"\n\n\"Is this consistent with your assessments of the situation?\"" }, { "author": "Princess Irezora Qinrel", "message": "As the King's appraisal of the situation began she could not help but feel herself an examiner comparing their observations and interpretations. It was surprising to see the aspects in which their perspectives differed and to speculate on the reasons that might be. For example, while she too had found Alyus' agreement to the investigation surprising, it had not seemed entirely quick or without apprehension on his part. In fact, she was inclined to expect a lack of outside influence on his decision. Whether or not the Bear King's will was one of iron or lead remained to be seen, however, she expected that were she sitting before him instead offering counsel the conversation might vary in some important ways. \n\nThey were in agreement on the kingdoms of Kara-Tur and Khisfire, however, there were some additional problems that might need to be considered down the line. It would be most effective, however, to wait until resources had been allocated to reevaluate their perspective and words. The topic of Lazaroth was slightly more difficult. As far as she was aware the Queen had only just appeared on the political scene recently and she had heard nothing of the Alynthi King having relations with her before or since then. It was possible that at that engagement she had presented herself particularly well, though from what she had seen the woman engaged little and talked less. There had been the meeting of those afflicted during which she may have demonstrated some level of political aptitude but she could not speak to what she had not seen herself. \n\n\"For the most part, yes,\" She began, pressing her lips together momentarily with furrowed brows as her thoughts also began to coalesce. \"This was my first time directly interacting with many of those in attendance so I unfortunately might be lacking in some of the personal experience that you have had to inform your observations. That said, I am hesitant to assume outside influence on the Gantrick King's behalf so quickly\n\n. It is possible that he, too, wishes to seek out this potentially catastrophic entity, though I would not bet the safety of any kingdom on that. More plausibly, he might prefer to have the investigations under his watch in a way with quick access to information and findings. I know that if I were able I would like the capacity to oversee and be first called in the case of anything and by investigating further into his lands we cede some of that power to him. In this case I would say we did have much of an option otherwise, however, the dynamic will still be shifted as a result.\" \n\nHer eyes fixed on his pensive gaze as she moved on to a relationship she was less sure about. \"I believe the Lazaroth Queen's silence spoke more than any words might have. She is intelligent, that is certain, since with just her presence she gained information while revealing none.\" A momentary pause filled the space while her gaze shifted interlaced fingers blocking his mouth then returned to his eyes. \"How a monarch comes to choose their advisors, I can not say. Between the two of us I have far less experience than you do in such matters. I know in Theory How I would go about such choices, but I can not say that my criteria would apply for all. It is possible that the Lazaroth Council members hold value that we are unable to see or support their Queen in some way we might not consider.\" Once more her lips formed a line as she rested her right temple against an open palm, weight falling on her propped elbow. \"Yes,\" Her voice took on an absentminded tone as blue eyes flicked upward in thought. \"I suppose the purpose and criteria for an advisor rests in the hands of the one being advised.\" Her gaze dropped to find his once more, leaving silence as she waited to see if he would understand her unsaid question, ask one of his own, or wait for her to speak further." }, { "author": "Astalios, Iron King", "message": "\"Perhaps initially I would have thought so as well.\" He acknowledged the princess's avenues of exploration into the mind of the Gantrick king. \"But my assessment of the man thus far has not included such tendencies. It strikes me as strange that he did not need to be argued down into accepting the proposal. In many respects, he has demonstrated that the lines of reasoning that would lead him to such conclusions are different than ours. His first reaction was to say that he accepted, but there could not be armies sent into his territory. He spoke as if we were invading as opposed to sending researchers. No one had made such a proposal.\"\n\nHe sat back upon the carven oak, letting his hands fall upon the armrests as weary eyes narrowed. \"He expected us to attempt to exert control in Gantrick, I think. The meeting was a measure of cooperation, an extension of a hand to everyone involved - he had to know by the opening speech, and my actions during it, the purpose expressed. It would defeat that purpose to use it as a vessel for subversion. Therefore he was afraid, and felt his fear first. He reminds me of a few soldiers I have met during my career - boys that were the largest in their circles, used to getting their way and imposing that upon others.\"\n\n\"And yet so afraid to be challenged.\" He sighed. \"Many who project swaggering confidence often do it out of fear. Perhaps it is his family that made him this way - their unfortunate demise was sure to cause many wounds. Perhaps he fears being wounded again. But as things stand, he is, in my estimation, the sort of man to evaluate out of fear first.\" In this case, though, he had not, and had made a good decision, choosing not to oppose the idea entirely. It was a step that made him question what had gone differently. \"I expected him to refuse flatly. I would say that it bodes well for Gantrick, but time will tell if that is the truth.\"\n\n_ _\n\"Queen Ashira, among others, knows that battles are often fought before they begin.\" He agreed with her assessment of the queen. She knew much more than she let on - their conversation in the library had likely given her all the information she needed to begin piecing things about him together. Princess Irezora, too, had kept quiet during the meeting, and simply observed for all she was worth. \"In that quality, she is matched by some present.\"\n\nBut on the subject of advisors, he could not mistake what she meant. He had his own unexpected advisor with him - the grand mistress. He could hardly speak about the presence of the others without some explanation for her. How to put this politically was quite the dilemma. \"...In my short tenure as king, I have kept many of my father's advisors.\" He began slowly. \"It is my opinion that his judgment was sound on their selection, and he must have judged them to be both trustworthy and competent enough to advise him. As you know, trustworthiness is a quality all its own.\"\n\n\"It was quite unlike her to struggle with a spell of that kind.\" He admitted, rubbing a gauntleted hand over his mouth. \"And lately, I have been unable to understand a certain few of her actions. I am to speak with her shortly on that account. As children, we were good friends, but... Much has changed in the past fifteen years for both of us. Ultimately, I believe the purpose of an advisor is to offer competent and trustworthy advice, in every situation. The coming days will require a magical advisor of the highest caliber, able to operate in any conditions.\"\n\n\"My father believed she was that advisor. I intend to be certain that his judgment was sound.\" As honest as he could be, he thought, but there was much left unsaid there." } ]	794	2,512
771.666667	2023-09-20	GuildTextChat	[ { "author": "Astalios, Iron King", "message": "A brief frown crossed his face as she called his words well-crafted. As craftsmen went, he doubted he was particularly good, but perhaps the finer points of subtlety wouldn't have been able to drive home their meaning as well as bluntness in the presence of the king of Gantrick. Still, he could have done better, he thought - there was no reason to offend people where he could avoid it. \n\n\"There is room for improvement, certainly.\" His voice was soft, the low bass filling the space of the study even at a small volume. \"If he only hears a subset of what I say, I should try to tailor my words to fit that subset when speaking with him. The art of communication is a difficult one to learn, but ultimately I must learn it. It is a most useful tool to use in ruling.\"\n\n\"I must protest, Your Highness.\" He shook his head as she spoke of his lack of engagement in war. That he knew well - and here she showed her own lack of experience in such spheres. \"There are soldiers and there are soldiers. I did not call the man a warrior - such men as I compared him to are only soldiers by happenstance of their profession.\" They were unprepared for war, he thought - like bullies in a schoolyard being confronted with a knight in armor, they stood little chance on the battlefield until they were able to change with experience.\n\n\"He has very little reason to trust, yes.\" He agreed, a small nod accompanying the statement. \"As do I. As do we all - yet there is a marked difference between an unwillingness to trust and a strange tilt to what we propose. One doesn't simply march armies into a research center, and none at the table proposed it. It is an imagined enemy that he fights against, and he does not seem to grasp what we really are, in my estimation.\" A small pause followed the statement as he squeezed his eyes shut, attempting to wipe his mind of that particular topic. \"Let us hope for the sake of the people of Gantrick and the world that he begins to grow.\"\n\n_ _\nSo many eddies in the current of politics tugged and swayed them one way or the other. His hands, resting upon the armrests of the oaken chair, felt almost leaden with exhaustion - and yet there were still letters to be written, seals to be affixed, places to go, people to see. It was nearly as grueling as his basic training had been physically, and more mentally draining than writing his dissertation. At least with various alloys, there was a definite, measurable result that could be attained and measured. With people, you never knew what impurities were present. Some escaped the eye entirely.\n\nHe wondered what was behind the veil of the princess sitting across from him. She seemed educated enough in the political sphere to be hiding many truths behind clever omissions.\n\n\"...Important criteria, yes.\" His eyes strayed for a moment to the fireplace before making their way back to her. \"It is imperative to see that they are followed. I Will Have someone who follows them, one way or another.\" That should have been evident the first time, he thought - but what she had implied perhaps he did not grasp, this time around. In any case, it was a finished point. \n\n\"The political choices of your own family?\" He asked, raising an eyebrow in curiosity. She had scarcely revealed much about her family to him yet - and perhaps this was an avenue into discussion her situation instead of his. He had laid much on the table, but he had yet to see similar levels of investment from her. \"Are there any choices in particular you might be speaking about?\"" }, { "author": "Princess Irezora Qinrel", "message": "Room for improvement was an apt way to put it. It was not as though the King could not carry himself appropriately in most situations. Rather, there were certain nuances that could be lost on a less trained ear. While she had spent years listening and reading about the art of conversation, he had learned the way of the sword. The pen is mightier than the sword, some say. However, in this case they would need command of both to succeed. \n\nHer gaze contemplated the man's willingness to learn and listen. It was rare, in her experience, to find one with power so willing to hear and heed the expertise of another. While it might have been easy to cite a respect for elders, functionally, she supposed her age was not that much greater than his. While quantitatively her years were greater, in experiences they were about equal. He would need to learn command of the court as he had the battlefield. \n\nThere were the obvious details that set the two settings apart. However, more nuanced similarities existed still if one looked. As far as she was aware, a General would hold council with his trusted advisors, men he believed capable of providing truthful feedback and executing direction. Leaders with whom he could recount a day of battle with and share observations with the goal of moving towards victory. Why should his command of his kingdom be any different?\n\n\"If I may, Your Majesty,\" She began, hands sliding down to rest atop her lap. \"How frequently do you share your interpretations of such conversations with those whose feedback you trust?\" Whether he would take the next step in connecting her question to a course of action would be seen.\n\nAs he spoke more on the nature of the Gantrick King, she became more resolved in the idea that these two men had crossed paths on many occasions before this one. Perhaps the example of battle was not one she should have used. After all, of those present she would always defer to his knowledge of such areas. For that reason she did not\n\nSpeak further on the matter of the Bear King, trusting that in time she might witness that which Astalios had. \n\nThen came the moment, the crack in the door that might allow a cool draft to ebb the fervent flames of the fireplace keeping them comfortable thus far. Finally he asked about her family and position. There was so much she hoped to one day say, if not to him then to Someone Worth trusting. For now, however, she would have to tread lightly. \n\n\"Well,\" She began, pulling her bottom lip below the top for a moment before rubbing them together in thought. At the same moment her eyes once again caught a fascinating grain of strong oak on the table separating them. He had already been open and forthcoming as far as she was aware that it should have been easy enough. It was not as though she wished to keep secrets from him. In fact, the opposite might have been true. That did not make the words any less troubling. The bond of family was one she found transcended many realms of logic and reason. \n\nHer eyes found his once more after the brief pause, calm returning to her features. \"I am sure you are aware that my father much prefers to deal with internal matters of state to international ones.\" For a moment, a soft smile tugged at her lips as her chest filled with pride. \"Our people love him and he is a good, kind man.\" A small sigh deflated her lungs and smile. \n\n\"I just wish he could see what I have, know the importance of, well of,\" A hand motioned between the two conversationalists just over the table, \"Of this.\" Her shoulders slumped further as the next thought came. \"And you have met my sister.\"" }, { "author": "Astalios, Iron King", "message": "She seemed to accept what he had said fairly cleanly, which was for the best, he thought - on the whole, it was entirely too tiring to keep going back and forth about the political matters of the day when they had run over them once or twice already. Why could it never be scientific discussions he had anymore? He had been happy enough to do his research, speak with the researchers that had come to the front, and conduct his experiments during the winter seasons when armies did not often march.\n\nThose were good days, he thought - when even during the war no lives were being spent, no raiders descending from the border to prey upon the villagers of Alynthi or attack the border fortifications, no soldiers spent in their efforts to wipe out the tribes that had plagued them so. Snow fell, fires roared, and he was able to rest and recuperate from the days of fighting in battlefields that he had grown up on. Writing letters back home to his sister and parents by the firelight. It was somber, still, but warm.\n\n\"How frequently?\" He asked, snapping out of his remembrance with a few blinks of the eye in confusion. He supposed he had met with his generals at least once a day - more as the situation demanded it. \"Daily. More than daily, really - I intend to be advised whenever I am in need of advisory. I suppose I keep advisors on hand - and they have been most instructive in political matters. I thought the transformation of the throne into the plain chair and the removal of my armor were moves that rather pleased them, though I am proud to say they were my own idea.\"\n\nWhatever did she mean, asking him about how often he was advised? Perhaps she thought to gauge his willingness to listen, though from her words she already believed him a good listener for a king. What did That* Mean, anyway? It wasn't as if kings needed closed ears for the position - nor did good ones proceed without advice. Kings kept their own counsel, but heard all. Was that not right?\n\n_ _\n\"Yes, I have been meaning to speak with His Majesty for some time.\" He nodded in agreement as she discussed her father's willingness to stay within Thyseer. The man was isolating himself in the sphere of international politics, secluded in his own world. A good, kind man he might be, but Astalios would have to speak with him eventually - no longer could he deal with princesses, whose power was not absolute.\n\n\"We may be able to solve that problem from my end, however. I should think it can be resolved with a little convincing and perhaps tea.\" He remarked. Tea with Galinheiros seemed like a frivolous matter on the surface, but it was a way to get the man to the table, which he needed badly. If the letter he had sent to every nation in the world had not summoned the man, he doubted any other official communiques would.\n\nThen there was the matter of Delsandra.\n\nHe had indeed met Irezora's sister - and frankly, she disturbed him. She was a woman whose every action seemed to hint at the hinges coming loose. Bring back Lysanthir, she said, immediately after the man had been accosting his Grand Mistress, and she had been panicking. The inner machinations of the woman's mind were alien to him, in the worst ways he could think of.* \n\n\"...I Have Met Delsandra.\" He gritted his teeth, clenching his jaw. A muscle in his cheek tensed as he tried to form the next words. \"Her demeanor is concerning. I hope that it is not too offensive to hear, but I am not quite comfortable with her in many circumstances. She has been a handful thus far.\"" } ]	772	2,315
573.333333	2023-10-07	GuildTextChat	[ { "author": "Princess Irezora Qinrel", "message": "How she wished for a glass of water, wine, anything to restore the moisture that had left her mouth at the conversation's turn. Surely he did not expect her to answer his questions. Had she ever seen a man burned alive? The memory of a dream so intentionally suppressed resurfaced at the question. A field of singed flesh with a molten crown and flicker of recognition. Dry breath caught in her throat as the room stood still for a moment. Perhaps she had hardened at last under the pressure into a crumbling piece of coal before the chance to become a diamond. The steady rise and fall of her chest and beating heart seemed to slow nearly to a stop as control was momentarily snuffed behind an image of a broken man. \n\nHer sister fancied the flame, though her fascination had found new frontiers in the recent decades. What specifically the interest was, she did not know. Or she had not. Of course the specifics of this referenced conversation never made it her way. Delsandra would have had to tell her as much herself. Hearing the words from an ally... No, hearing them from This Ally was enough to merit a silent prayer of thanks that she had kept dinner light. \n\nAs the details of the dream replayed in her mind new connections were made then disregarded then pondered again all within the span of the moments it took for a semblance of composure to be regained. The lump in her throat was swallowed as eyelids fluttered momentarily to reset the gaze that had been fixed on the true face of the man from the dream.\n\n\"I have not, Your Majesty, and I would like to think that neither has my sister.\" What else was there to say? She would not assert anything that could not yet be proven. While she trusted the man before her the fact that he remained the King of a foreign nation was not to be forgotten. The subject of their conversation had shifted to her sister and future queen. Bringing up a meaningless dream would add nothing and avoiding the topic would get them nowhere. \n\n\"I,\" She pause\n\nD, seemingly contemplating her words further before speaking again. \"My intentions in aiding your efforts are perhaps not quite all I first indicated.\" There was the confession. The continued explanation followed before a chance to answer was offered. \"All that I have said thus far is the truth and I have no intention of seeing any of our people suffer at the hands of our enemies. However, while I can not speak for my father or sister, I hoped to show our ally that...,\" That what, that she had also seen behaviors to cause concern? \"...My loyalty is to the people of Thyseer, not just the crown.\" There the words were. Were her sister to hear them they might have been treason, but she hoped the Alynthi King understood." }, { "author": "Astalios, Iron King", "message": "She seemed shocked by the proposal that she would ever have seen a man burned alive - though it was a rhetorical question, he hoped, she seemed to think he was seriously asking her. The look on her face was disconcerting - which could mean any number of things. Perhaps she Had* Seen one burned alive, and was attempting to cover for her sister, or worries herself about it. In any case, it seemed as if she was much more affected by the question than he really had intended.\n\n\"...I apologize. It was meant to be rhetorical.\" He attempted to mend whatever had broken with a calm tone, reassuring her he had not meant anything by it but to illustrate a point. Perhaps he would have to be more careful about the mention of such topics around those that hadn't seen battle on the scale he had. There were far too many people who hadn't seen war, and therefore didn't realize how much worse it could become than just one person burning alive.\n\nAs she began to speak again, he listened closely to what she said, and what she did not say. Her intentions in aiding his efforts were not as they had been? It was perplexing, but the clincher was the statement that she was not just loyal to the crown of Thyseer, but to its people. There was much implied in that - that either the crown of Thyseer was not loyal to its people or that the people were not loyal to the crown. It was a concerning development, much greater in magnitude than any conversation about Delsandra.\n\n\"...Do you mean to say, Princess, that the crown and the people of Thyseer are not in accord?\" He asked quietly, assessing the situation as best he could. She had said that She Was with the people. Therefore, not in accord with her family.* \"The last I heard of His Majesty, the man was well-liked by the populace of his kingdom. There was little unrest within Thyseer, at least from some of my sources.\"\n\n_ _\nThen what was she proposing? That she might be able to subvert her family's choices, whatever those might be, for the good of the world? Things must have been a good deal worse than he had gathered for this offer ever to have been possible, or even a thought in her mind. That was her family she was telling him about - doubtless she had greater reason to trust them than she did him. This meant either he was a last resort or this was a ploy - and there was reliable enough information for him to think this was no ploy..." }, { "author": "Princess Irezora Qinrel", "message": "Certainly she did not mean that the crown and people were not in accord. He was right, all loved the King and he cared deeply for the people of Thyseer. Though once upon a time the same might have been said for her sister, in recent years there had been no sign of such compassion or care. In fact, one might argue that even sanity seemed to me lacking at times. Just how much could she say without endangering the alliance completely, though? It seemed as though her words had begun a train of thought in the King's mind that she was not sure would end in her favor. There were always risks to be taken when putting oneself in a position of vulnerability. That was what she had done, after all.\n\nIt was not only the words that left her exposed. The effects of the long day had certainly taken their toll and though thus far she had managed a semblance of composure as thoughts began to fill her mind her fingers formed a fist gripping the fabric of her dress. \n\nThere was little unrest in Thyseer, this was true for the country at large. However, there was great unrest within the castle when it came to the activities of her sister. Though her father would deny any wrongdoing, she had seen and heard enough to understand that her concern was well placed. Concern might not have been the right word. It was fear. There was helplessness. True helplessness as staring into the face of a dragon with no hope of survival. \n\nThe clenched fist began to shake as her grip tightened. Though the urge to latch her jaw shut to avoid the chattering that was certain to escape, she had to say something. \n\n\"My father is well-loved, and he in turn loves the people of Thyseer deeply.\" This was the truth, observable and stated. \"It is not,\" Her jaw clenched for a moment before continuing, \"Above all he cares for his family, however, and I believe this to be the reason that he does not share our concern.\" Fear She reminded herself. \n\n\"In theory he understands the importance of this alliance for the futur\n\nE of Thyseer, but I have not found a way to turn his attention from what happens within his borders to what happens within his castle, let alone what might happen with the world at large.\" She shook her head. \"I believe he sees that he has his family and people within Thyseer so he need not care for anything beyond that.\" His love blinds him. He loves the people so but will leave them to the whims of Delsandra. Yes, the fear was well placed. \n\n\"I hoped that my stay in Alynthi might draw him here at the very least to casually visit if there was no official business to be done, but it seems that I have failed at even that.\" Glassy blue eyes turned upward to meet the man's. \"Your Majesty, it is not the actions of my father that I fear,\" That was the right word, \"It is what follows.\"" } ]	573	1,720
325.333333	2023-11-18	GuildTextChat	[ { "author": "Astalios, Iron King", "message": "\"True enough.\" He replied calmly. She was naturally going to be paranoid about such matters, given that the general public seemed unlikely to approve of whatever was going on in the dungeons. But such was the lot of a soldier or a spy - suspicion was their lot, allaying it their job. Death was around the corner - they knew the risks of the occupation.\n\n\"I do not wish to throw away lives, of course, but we must surveil her in some fashion, whether that is through insertion of a spy in some position close enough to learn more or through placing eyes in the walls. A more direct infiltration - perhaps a shifter tunneling through the ground as a mole, for example.\" He mused. \"It seems to me that laying the proper groundwork will take some time, if insertion as a jailor is off the table. Perhaps a beggar or two will work, as a starting point.\"\n\nThere were many rumors that reached the ears of the lowest better than they reached the highest, and regardless, it was to be a thorough conversation with his spymaster tomorrow. He leaned forward, grasping a fresh sheet of parchment paper, and waved a hand over the ink in the well. Iron gall ink spewed forth in a delicate stream, arranging itself into the tiniest threads of a message, words like 'meeting' and 'earliest' taking their places on the parchment as his thoughts pressed themselves into being. \n\nWords, like a pattern spun on a loom, placed themselves on the parchment, wetting it as the excess ink made its way back to the well. It would take a moment to dry, of course - but the address to his spymaster was finished almost as soon as it had begun. They could afford to waste little time.\n\n\"An attempt to draw her away would be beneficial.\" He nodded in thought. \"Have you any idea what could do so? You are, after all, sisters. Perhaps you might leverage that bond to allow some time for exploration while she is absent.\"" }, { "author": "Princess Irezora Qinrel", "message": "He had recommended the very idea that had crossed her mind. Perhaps it hadn't been as reprehensible as she'd first though. That was unlikely, though. It was unfair for whoever might be put at the end of Delsandra's wrath. \n\n\"Our bond is not as close as you might be thinking, Your Majesty.\" Her head tilted to the side slightly as her eyes drifted over his face. \"It seems she does not have much time for her little sister these days, and I stopped pushing when it just made her withdraw further.\" There had been that moment, that hint that perhaps her sister truly was in there somewhere. It had been Irezora that Delsandra first sought to protect on that night. \n\nBut there was still the matter of potentially laying bait. The idea did not sit well with the princess and even though the man before her had echoed the thought, the uneasy feeling remained. There had to be a better way. \"Perhaps I might make myself of use to her, in a fashion.\" Her eyes narrowed in thought before widening, eyebrows raised. \"She might see benefit in knowledge of the Alynthi King's plans, for example.\" \n\nA feeling near excitement flooded her senses, igniting once more the spark of creation. A plan. \"She already knows that I have requested to remain here in your court, why not let her believe that I am here to gather information, a double agent of sorts.\"" }, { "author": "Astalios, Iron King", "message": "Our bond is not as close as you might be thinking. True enough, she seemed to have drifted from her family in recent years - or perhaps her family had drifted from her. Whatever the case, it was she that sat across the table from him now, asking him for help instead of her father or sister in order to halt whatever was going on beneath the stone of Thyseer Castle. His sisters were close, when he had lived at the castle, and only distant when they were apart. He had to remind himself to take better care of them - to keep his family close. They were dwindling by the day.\n\n\"...My condolences, Your Highness.\" He spoke quietly, a genuine apology on his lips. To be estranged from family was no small tragedy. It was a death before death, in a way - though they could be recovered eventually, it was hard to repair bridges that had been burned. Before he continued, however, her lips opened, and out spilled an idea from the princess's mouth.\n\nMake herself of use to Delsandra after a fashion? Spy on his plans? It would have worked, he thought, but...\n\n\"Pardon me, Princess, but...\" He shook his head. \"I Have No plans. What would we begin to propose I am doing?\"" } ]	292	976
259	2024-01-01	GuildTextChat	[ { "author": "Princess Irezora Qinrel", "message": "With a quick bob of her head, the decision became easy. There had been one option that she had thus far tried to ignore. If this plan did not work - desperate times did call for desperate measures. \n\n\"I appreciate your support, Your Majesty. I would like to first approach my father one last time in the case that he is able to be reasoned with based on the shared concern of our ally.\" A quiet tapping sound filled the space between them as momentarily her leg bounced. She wouldn't worry him with their other option quite yet. There was only one guaranteed way to cement the alliance between their kingdoms in a way that even Delsandra could not undo. That was a last resort however. \n\n\"If he still fails to see the risks to our people then, then I will proceed with our current idea. I will report back as frequently as possible in person, but in times that I am away...\" Her voice trailed off as she seemingly searched the space of his desk for something. \"Do you have a spare note sheet? Or two pershaps?\"" }, { "author": "Astalios, Iron King", "message": "The imprinting of the ink on parchment paused for a moment. One last chance to coax the king out of his den would be best. There was no reason in making him think he had been circumvented unnecessarily - and if he could wake up to what his firstborn daughter had been doing and how she'd been acting, the process of remedying the problems would be greatly expedited. There was little chance, considering how he'd acted thus far, but...\n\n\"A prudent course of action, Your Highness.\" He agreed, the vein of black ink resuming the process of unwinding itself onto the page, dying the surface where it touched. \"It is my hope that he will heed your warnings. It was said to me once that a man who listens to those who have his best interests in mind will go forward and go far.\"\n\nAs she said, if he failed to see the risks, there was little they could do to avoid the inevitable conclusion. They would have to take matters into their own hands. Her question for a note sheet was slightly surprising, but he shrugged his shoulders and opened the drawers of his writing-desk, pulling a sheaf of blank parchment three pages thick from it and handing it over.\n\n\"May you have all of Grikta's luck, Your Highness.\"" }, { "author": "Princess Irezora Qinrel", "message": "She still had one last matter of business after his dismissal. As he slid the sheets her way she pulled a pin from her hair once more, however this time rather than transforming it into a graphite pencil she closed her eyes and exhaled with a clear image in her mind. The item transformed into a rudimentary stamp with clearly carved runes. \n\n\"If I may,\" She half asked as her arm reached to press the image into the King's ink tray. Pulling back she separated two sheets of the pile, heavily pressing the marking into each. After a moment the ink faded as if seeping deeper. \n\n\"There. I've only attempted this once or twice but whatever you write should appear on my sheet and vice versa. The writing should only be visible to the owner of the parchment but should there be any issues please do let me know. This should allow us to more speedily arrange meetings should it be necessary.\"\n\nAllowing only a moment for his response so raised herself from the chair. \"I thank you once more for the audience, Your Majesty.\" She allowed a moment longer to be dismissed or showed out." }, { "author": "Astalios, Iron King", "message": "With interest, he eyed the transformation of the pin. Though he was not quite sure she'd end up with much holding her hair up after she had pulled them all out, he had to admit the feat was impressive. To change one material into another was largely an accepted fact of transmutation magic, of course, but when it was not a metal, the change seemed infinitely more magical to him. This was to say nothing of the runes, which made their impact not only on the physical paper, but magically bonded the two.\n\nThe mark disappeared as the magic took hold, and with an appreciative glance at the stamp, he took a moment to draw a single letter A on his sheet, carefully ensuring it appeared on the second. When the spell worked, he leaned backwards in the oaken chair, a full nod of the head given in the wake of a work of art.\n\n\"Well done, Your Highness.\" He murmured. \"I should think it holds up even against a lexicon for ease of communication - especially so when communicating in secret. It is difficult to disguise your identity when using one.\" With another cursory glance at it, he swept the parchment under the desk, setting it aside in a smaller drawer where it could be found easily.\n\n\"As I do you for attending, Your Highness. Please convey my regards to His Majesty, if you would, and express to him my wishes to meet with him soon.\" As she left the room, the golden wax seemed to beckon to him once again, and he reached out to the melting plate in the silence that followed. One last task to end the day..." } ]	245	1,036
554.25	2024-06-17	GuildTextChat	[ { "author": "Astalios, Iron King", "message": "When the letters of the day were written, the fire burned low, and the eyes of King Astalios were heavy enough for sleep, there remained only one task before the beginning of the next day - an incident report that seemed connected to an encounter he'd had in the Greenheart. One orc was a coincidence - given that the orc was from Dazvaz, and not a citizen of Alynthi.\n\nTwo was concerning.\n\nThough he'd been dispatched, there was a small investigation he needed to conduct - leaving no stone unturned was the best way to proceed, though it undoubtedly took the most effort. One man's attention could only split so many ways. Delsandra and her antics in Thyseer, the eye turned towards the border in Dazvaz, Alyus and his ilk in Gantrick, Matron Dhakashira in Lazaroth and her knowledge of his secrets, this Catalyst and Devourer... \n\nAnthron.\n\nRest was a commodity for a man that had little time in the day - and Astalios had quickly become such a man in the time since his ascension. How his father had dealt with the workload, he had never known - but he supposed he was to find out through experience. Perhaps it was because his father spared only an hour for physical practice a day. \n\nRegardless, as he sat exhausted at his desk, he pulled himself upright to await the next entrant, making sure that he was presentable. His armor shivered for a moment to shake off any dust or impurity, polishing itself to ensure a fresh shine. His crown re-seated itself on his head, the antlered circlet raising and lowering to reset its position. Even in front of his guard complement, there was an image to maintain, a set of duties to fulfil.\n\nThis was no different. The world did not stop because of the current goings-on, and neither did training. A squire of one of his royal guard needed cultivation like any other project of his - and though she had performed well in basic training and came with her own recommendations for the high post, he was not going to let her go untested.\n\n_ _\nThe recent upheaval had meant a rechecking of the wards and guard complement around the castle, ensuring that they were alert and well-coordinated. For that task, he had designated some of his royal guard. The squire should first of all have known what was being checked, and secondly understand why they were checking in such places. It was a good chance to gauge her capability, and find room to grow.\n\nThrough the second sight granted by his magic he felt her coming - the set of armor she wore, the hammer at her waist. Unlike the servants, who wore simple buckles and livery, she was dressed for her station. She did not bear the full trappings of a knight yet, though. No signet or stamp. He inhaled once, exhaled once, and locked his eyes on the door, waiting for the inevitable knock..." }, { "author": "Zchnil \|\| Tch RsqaS Guar", "message": "With each step Zenith drew toward the King's room, each breath she took was heavy, as she tried to keep herself calm, not letting any anxiety be shown through her. But to say she was struggling was an understatement. She was clenching and unclenching her fists, biting the inside of her mouth, and causing more sores to develop over time. \n\nIf it weren't for the heavy armor she was wearing now, she might have been shaking from nervousness by now. Usually, the guard isn't like this, she was quite composed in most cases, but this was something new, something she had never felt before.\n\n Was it because of the authority the king held? Was it because of what he could say? She truly didn't know, it could be a thousand different things and she wouldn't have a clue.\n\nMaybe that's a good thing though, maybe she should go into this blind, to learn head-on how to deal with this nervousness, so she could never be nervous again... That was difficult though, Extremely Difficult. She could practically feel her heartbeat in her ears, suddenly the armor felt suffocating, and her hammer felt too heavy. She felt all of this because she was finally going to face the king.\n\nBefore becoming a true knight, Zenith had no opinions on the king. Koa would ramble about him and say how some of the laws are so restricting, or how he never had the fun he could have like he would when he would go to Lazaroth. She only recently discovered how horrendous they could be. But after joining the military, she had to learn about the king and his ways. Not only that, to meet such a powerful man, to soon be a loyal royal guard to the man, had Zenith nervous beyond all comprehension. \n\n'What if I'm too nervous? What if I'm not strong enough? What if I failed these tests?' Zenith thought all of these to herself, her brain almost being overran by them that she nearly missed the door she was supposed to enter. She stopped right in her tracks and turned her body around, staring at the door tha\n\nT would lead into the King's quarters. She hesitated as she raised her hand and curled her knuckles, just inches away from the door. \n\nShe almost just decided to leave right then and there, but that was a foolish idea, so her knuckles knocked right against the door, three hearty and loud knocks that she was sure the king could hear." }, { "author": "Astalios, Iron King", "message": "A slight pause outside. Perhaps gathering her nerves. Three sharp knocks. She was young, this one, and had not been to war. There were so few within his ranks that had not been bathed in the blood of conflict. It was both a source of comfort and of regret. The blood they had shed together in battle gave him trust and confidence - but the source of the trust could not have been more regrettable.\n\nFor every survivor that served him now, there was another dead on a craggy field, never to see the sweetheart he had left, the parents that had wished him well, the friends that shouldered their grief and tried to carry on in their own ways. The image of curling ram's horns graced his mind once again. He knew precisely why his thoughts returned to Temperance every time he thought of trainees, but it took none of the sting from the memories.\n\n\"Enter.\" The iron lock unlatched, and the door swung open of its own accord. The king's voice met the knight in a deep baritone that masked his exhaustion with strength, and piercing mud-brown eyes surveyed the guest as she entered the study. Like most rooms in Varilon Keep, it was fashioned of heavy gray granite, meant to serve first and foremost as a bastion of defense. A fireplace roared away opposite a large wooden writing desk that held an assortment of wax sticks in black and gold, a wrought-iron candle holder in the form of a stag, a golden melting stand. An inkwell, stacks of parchment paper, an eagle-feathered quill.\n\nBehind it sat the king himself. The crown of Alynthi, a wreath of beaten gold antlers, sat nestled on waves of black hair. A strong nose and jaw, an olive complexion. Ears that were rounded at their elven points, a build that was entirely too sturdy to be completely elven. A dull gray suit of plate armor wrought in a simple style, with the breastplate transmuted to gold and iron to bear the banner of the kingdom upon the front. A poniard dagger at his waist.\n\n_ _\nOn the battlefield, he had commanded the armies of Alynthi for years, leading them to an ultimately victorious campaign against their western neighbors. At his coronation, he had been a grieving son, wishing for his father to return. Now, it seemed that he had aged years in the time since the crown had sat upon his head. The boy was gone, lost some fourteen years prior. So too was the young man, lost when his father's passing had thrust the responsibility of the crown upon him.\n\nThis was what met the eye." }, { "author": "Zchnil \|\| Tch RsqaS Guar", "message": "The guard did not waste even a second when she heard the king's voice, about to open the door herself. She jolted when the door was flung open, her eyes wide from the suddenness of it. She looked over at the king, silent and still for a moment, before she immediately stood up straight, her hands behind her back. She entered the room, having to step sideways a bit because of her wings, even though they were close together and closed, it was still hard to get places.\n\nZenith stood a few feet away from the desk, looking at the king and holding eye contact with him. Brown eyes contrasted with her own violet eyes, her hair a similar color. She had darker skin, with blemishes and beauty marks. Her face was soft, and besides the one scar she had on her lip from being careless, it was also smooth. \n\nIt was clear she had just only recently joined the military, not even joining a war or any battles with the lack of scars, and that still look of hopefulness in her eye, one that many men in the army don't have, from what she's seen at least. \n\nIt was like the guard was the opposite of the man, a man who was tired and busy, and a woman who was bright and hopeful, with that light still in her eyes.\n\nHer heartbeat was still going fast though, like it was about to beat out of her chest. She almost could have sworn the king could also hear how fast it was going - even though that wasn't possible. Her throat felt dry, and suddenly it felt like she lost the ability to talk, just staring almost dumbly at the man.\n\nGreat first impression.\n\nAfter what was only a minute, which felt like hours for Zenith, she finally was able to mutter something. \"Hello, Your Majesty,\" She mumbled, while her face was stoic, she was mentally celebrating and patting herself on the back for not stuttering. It was small, but it was a win in her book.\n\n\"It is great to finally meet you, I've been excited and also nervous since I got the news that you wanted to see me. I heard that one of the men suggested me for one of the high roles, and I'm greatly honored to even be one of those suggestions! I hope I do not disappoint you.\" She practically rambled all her words out, and after she finished talking, she gave an awkward smile. This was so much worse than stuttering, she wanted to just dig her head into the ground and hide in it for the rest of her days." } ]	540	2,217
357.1	2022-06-05	GuildTextChat	[ { "author": "Sir Rikard Van Dahl, Fulminatus", "message": "The stables were a source of some comfort for a previously poor boy, and shoveling hay for his horse was always a pastime he undertook not for his horse's sake, but for his. It sometimes made him think of home, and of what had been before his knighthood, if he undertook manual labor like this. So in the warm, still night, he stood in the stables, giving a dull brown stallion the hay he was tossing and working to his heart's content by lantern light.\n\nThe man was absolutely massive - standing at a well-muscled six feet and eight inches, with a few crocodile scales peeking out from his shoulders, he cut an imposing figure. At the moment, he was draining a tankard of ale directly into his mouth, laughing and joking with the bartender all the while.\n\nHis eyes were a sea-green shade, his hair a tawny brown. He didn't speak like a nobleman, and his deep, rumbling voice contrasted greatly with the apparent youth of his face. But even so, the man was clad in steel armor of high quality, which bore the emblem of the Royal family on it. He was of course off-duty, but it was his prerogative to wear the King's colors as a member of the prince's household knights.\n\nHis hair was cut short, practical to fit into a helm or other headwear, and he carried with him a steel mace on his hip beside a dagger of plain make. The smile he wore extended to the corners of his eyes, and it was clear that he most enjoyed the current situation. He felt quite a bit at home here." }, { "author": "Ser Edvard Eldebrand", "message": "'There is no comfort to be found in this wretched kingdom.'\n\nEdvard complained silently as he slowly dragged the coarse brush across the rough fur of his horse. The meaningless activity offered no sense of peace, leaving Edvard almost numbingly bored. Yet, with the everlasting memory of his lover and the god that taunts him throughout every waking moment of his life, no solace could be found even within the thoughtless task. Edvard cursed softly as he threw the brush down to the corner of the stable, frustrated with a knot in the horse's mane. Placing his armored pauldron on Gerhard's snout, he aimed to calm the beast as he retrieved a small knife. With a single quick motion, he removed the knot, leaving an extremely noticeable dip in the consistent hairline of the mane. Edvard didn't care. The appearance of his horse didn't matter to him at all. As long as the beast was fed, happy, and effective, he was satisfied. Although, Edvard was never satisfied. Not anymore. Rage and dissatisfaction seemed his permanent state as of late.\n\nWith a clank and a thud, the large man collapsed onto a small stool outside of the stable, placed on the side of the large swinging doors. He was in a sorry state, his hair and beard rather unkempt and stained with sweat accumulated under the heavy weight of his pure steel armor. The sun over Alynthi grew more malicious by the day, and the attractive yellow color staining the steel certainly didn't help. He always hated yellow. He placed his armored hand under his chain, ignoring the hairs pinched in the nooks and crannies of his armor. The slight pain was easily ignored and a subtle reminder that he was still alive, even if he hated the notion. His tired eyes stared forward, watching the blue sky outside of the stable. The color. Findara. He shot a glance down at his hip, noting that the blue cloth wrapped around the handle of his sword was still there. If only he could go home.\n\nIf only." }, { "author": "Sir Rikard Van Dahl, Fulminatus", "message": "The clunk of a horse brush and the clank of an angry knight reminded Rikard that he was not the only one present in the stables - and while he might have found the exercise relaxing, some noblemen didn't see it that way. He scratched with one armored hand at the back of his neck, where scales grew a dark olive green, and put down his pitchfork, reassuring the dull horse that he was going to be back in a minute. \n\nHe traipsed over to the place where Edvard sat, exiting the stable proper to lean against the doorway and survey his fellow knight. Edvard was a cranky one, he knew, but maybe there was something besides the norm bothering him. Maybe he was a little fussy, and didn't want to take care of the horses. Maybe he was prissy, and didn't like to be dirty. But that didn't suit him too well, he thought to himself. Best to find out another way.\n\n\"Hey, what's eating you?\" He asked simply, the booming voice that echoed from the huge man rumbling with the faint echo of a throat that was far more voluminous and expansive than it needed to be - and the slight reptilian tone that colored such a deep affectation. His face didn't match his voice at all - it was like a young boy speaking in a grizzled old man's way.\n\n\"Lice in your armor?\"" }, { "author": "Ser Edvard Eldebrand", "message": "\"If I had lice I wouldn't be here. Horses don't deserve that wretched plague. We bully them enough already.\" Edvard grunted, not daring to look towards the towering man speaking to him. It wasn't a show of disrespect, but more a show of his intense laziness. The world had eaten away at him, and he had simply taken it. There was little fight left in the man, all of it replaced by an intense drive to simply do nothing. The world wouldn't better itself through his action. What was the point? He shrugged at his own thought, sighing as he softly ripped his hand away, placing it in his lap. He gritted his teeth as it took a few hairs with it, the stinging pain resounding on his chin. He shut his eyes and leaned back against the wood of the stable, feeling the exhale of his horse ruffle his hair ever-so slightly. \"Long story. Not one I'm willing to tell.\" He lazily opened a single eye to inspect the man, slightly surprised by his appearance. A seven foot man with the face of a stable-boy. Eh. He had seen things far more confusing. There was likely magic at play. There was always magic at play. He often wished the damned art didn't exist. Life would be a lot less complicated.\n\n\"I'm surprised you even have a horse able to fit in the stables. You don't seem the type to be able to even mount and normal steed. Perhaps a direwolf is more your speed, ser.\" Edvard chuckled softly, slamming his eye shut. He rested in the darkness for a moment, before a vision of his love appeared. Quickly, he opened his eyes, shaking the thought from his mind. Thinking about her hurt him dearly, yet everything made him think of her. Damn Otis, and damn the gods. Damn it all. He stared forward, once again, inspecting the infinite expanse of blue sky laid out for him miles and miles away. His eyes caught sight of a small bird, flying from tree to tree in a natural stupor. What the knight wouldn't give to grow wings and fly far, far from here. Free from service, and free from the gods." }, { "author": "Sir Rikard Van Dahl, Fulminatus", "message": "\"Suit yourself. If you wanna be a clam, why should I tell you what to do?\" Rikard raised an eyebrow at the knight that sat on the stool outside the stables. Though they worked together, Rikard and Edvard hadn't been particularly close, and that was for a reason - Rikard was quite a bit more open than the constantly moping Sir Aldebrand. He guessed that was because of his noble schooling, or something like that. Either way, he played things close to the chest, that was for sure.\n\nAt the mention of his size, Rikard gave an unnaturally toothy grin. It was one of a few things he was proud of, and the mirin' was always appreciated. \"I don't know, the last time I tried to ride a direwolf, she was a shifter I met in the woods. Didn't go as well as I wanted, because, well... She didn't like knights. So, no rides on the direwolf train. But a percheron or something is still in my size range. There's a good one in the stables here I use if I really have to travel, but I figure most times, I can just swim wherever I want. Tie up my armor to a pack, put it on, shift, then make my way down a river till I reach the town I need to be at. It's fun, you should try it sometime.\"" }, { "author": "Ser Edvard Eldebrand", "message": "\"I don't swim.\"\n\nEdvard hated water. To be fair, however, he hated most things. From the dirt caked on his boots to the food on his plate. He hated it. He never attempted to hide his hatred, even if it painted him as a displeasing individual. He always used to worry about status. To think, just a decade ago, he was a beloved hedge knight that demanded respect from his brothers in arms. Hailed as a hero across Findara. The famous squire turned knight, carrying the legacy of Ser Hastings. Now, he was little more than a grumbling oaf, full of hatred and anger. It was almost depressing. Almost. \"The story isn't a pearl, ser. You don't want to hear it. I'm sure there are plenty of stable-boys and squires willing to bare their whole life stories out to you at the slightest mention, but I am not one of them. I will suffer in stoic silence, like a good knight should.\" Ed shook his head, breaking his concentration to stare back over towards the man.\n\n\"You seem the type to try and ride the first animal you find in the forest, regardless of its true form.\" Edvard chuckled softly, his armor clinking softly as his diaphragm exploded against the inside of his chestplate. \"I'm sure the wolf had her reasons. Knights aren't exactly known to be the pristine warriors we are so often taken as. At least, not anymore.\" Edvard stood from his seat with a heavy sigh, slowly making his way out of the stables and onto the vibrant green grass left in tatters in front of the wide open door. He was far more comfortable with the sky over his head than he ever was with a roof. There was security in the infinite freedom the outdoors provided." }, { "author": "Sir Rikard Van Dahl, Fulminatus", "message": "\"You know, the water does wonders on the scales, Eddie boy. Besides, it'd probably do a good job of getting you smelling better than the horses if you went for a swim once in a while.\" He grinned down at the morose man, whose humor seemed to be the key to getting him to lighten up once in a while. There was something there. More animals. More stories. He had a few. \n\n\"You're so silent about your suffering that you had to tell me about how stoic you are, as a knight should be.\" He cracked, jostling him on the shoulder with a large hand. \"That's what we need, Eddie boy, proper knights like you who sit in their shit till they're all out of wit.\" Rhymes weren't usually his domain, but he'd been hanging around with a dwarf lately that had told him that line. He thought it was decent.\n\n\"I'm just too far below you, it seems. I do go for wild animals.\" Rikard racked his brains for an interesting story. \"Did I ever tell you about this orc I wrestled in the Hungry Wolf? She was raring for a fight, she came in looking for arm wrestling. So I turned halfway into a crocodile at the table and won. Then she challenged me again, so I asked her to wrestle upstairs. Boy, that was fun. I didn't get anything from her, though, either, except an actual wrestling match. Funny how that goes.\"" }, { "author": "Ser Edvard Eldebrand", "message": "\"Call me Eddie again and I'll cut out your tongue and feed it to my horse.\" \n\nEdvard quipped with no sense of malice or venom in his voice. He seemed almost bored making the threat, as if it was tiresome to correct him. All actions seemed tiresome to him now. It was all so... Demanding. Why couldn't he just lay down in his bed and never get up? The kingdom and the gods demanded him and his sword. Of course they did. Damned parasites couldn't stand up for themselves and do their own damn bidding. With a loud clank Edvard sunk into the wood wall of the stable, leaning all of weight against the crudely cut lumber. Old and poorly crafted. Shitty excuse for a royal stable if you asked him. But all of Alynthi felt that way. Other than the places the fancy king and queen and their little royal spawns inhabited, of course. They got the fancy pearls and quartz while the common man got wood and hay. Suppose that's how its all supposed to work, though. Edvard sighed, shaking his head as he half-listened and half-ignored Rikard and his tales.\n\n\"Proper knights don't overshare, ser. Perhaps you should take the blatant advice I'm giving you.\" Edvard shot his gaze towards Rikard, very clearly annoyed at the conversation. Rikard's stories of sexual debauchery were meaningless to him. \"You are the exact reason I don't go to taverns anymore. Drink is for somber reflection and long slumber. Hard to ponder all of my mistakes when you're wrestling across the bar in some drunken excuse for entertainment. Psh. How did you ever get knighted, let alone put on the King's Guard? You're supposed to be a shining pillar of morality and stoicism, not a wolf-fucking and orc-wrestling degenerate.\" Edvard spat the words before returning to staring forward, sighing slightly." }, { "author": "Sir Rikard Van Dahl, Fulminatus", "message": "\"Hey, now, I got to this point by doing this stuff when I'm off duty, and playing by the rules when I'm supposed to. I could probably be more refined, that's true, but hell, who wants to be refined if all you do is sit and mope? Somber reflection, my ass.\" Rikard snorted, voice rumbling the the baritone of a crocodile as he chuckled far too deeply for a man with his boyish face.\n\n\"Never helped my parents much. What did help them was arresting the thieves in town. That's why I'm a knight - I can help out the people a lot better by having the authority to go beat a criminal's ass and land them in jail. I'm not much for show. You aren't either. But I'm not gonna say I don't do my job. That I can promise. The mindset that comes with it, that one I can't. Fuck do I know about knightly etiquette? I'm a peasant in a tin can being a thug for the right people for the right reasons. Personally, I think that's the way it should be.\" He laid it out step by step as the hostile stare floated away." }, { "author": "Ser Edvard Eldebrand", "message": "Edvard stared towards the man as he spoke, his expression unchanging. It seemed almost for a second that he was listening, trying his hardest to understand where Rikard was coming from in an attempt to settle their differences so they could work as a team. Being on the royal guard was, after all, something that required trust in your fellow man. Yet, as Rikard finished speaking, Edvard only returned to his forward look, chuckling softly. Edvard wasn't the type of man to listen, anyway. Not anymore. Had Rikard caught him a decade prior, back when he was a hedge knight fighting for the kingdom of Findara, he would've heard his whole story. Probably would've shared his own, too. Not anymore. That shit has long since sailed past, never to be found again. Fallen off of the edge of the world, he guessed. Quietly, Edvard moved to adjust his pauldron, sliding it back into place after it had been jostled by the wooden wall of the stable.\n\n\"Remember what I said about oversharing?\" Edvard smiled slightly, turning to look towards Rikard. \"Piece of advice from your senior, ser. Learn when to shut the fuck up.\" Edvard laughed heartily, cracking the first smile of the day. Of course, it was at Rikard's expense. Beating others down seemed to be the only thing that provided joy to Edvard nowadays. The joy however, was fleeting. As soon as it had arrived, the smile faded, and Edvard was left bereft once more. \"Didn't ask for your life story. Didn't ask for what motivates you. Don't care either. Most people could give less of a shit why you piss in a golden chamber-pot every morning. Didn't ask for you to explain why you're a thug, either. Knew it from the moment you walked into the stables.\"" } ]	358	3,571
315	2022-06-06	GuildTextChat	[ { "author": "Sir Rikard Van Dahl, Fulminatus", "message": "To say Rikard's pride was a little hurt was an understatement. He felt the shame of a small boy being scolded for the actions he had undertaken - like being caught with his hand in the cookie jar, but with additional repercussions. His face flushed the shade of a pomegranate, and his jaw clenched together silently as he folded his arms and decided to leave the bitter man to his own devices. \n\nAlthough...\n\n\"So, what did you have in mind? What Should I be doing, sir? Sitting on a stool feeling superior to everyone around me? Is that knightly to you?\" He asked, half out of curiosity, half out of frustration. The man had clearly been around much longer than he had." }, { "author": "Ser Edvard Eldebrand", "message": "Edvard stared towards Rikard before breaking his sightline, clearly in thought. He stood dead still for just a moment, pondering his response. He wasn't a robot or some charismatic actor. He had to think before he spoke. His first reaction was to strike Rikard down with the back of his armored glove, casting him to the floor in an act of anger and disgust. He hated the idea that he thought of himself highly, or better than anyone else. In full truth, Edvard was full of self-hatred. He thought of himself as the worst living example of a knight in all of the world. A man not even deserving of pity. He couldn't even bear to look in the mirror anymore, as shown by the scragginess of his beard and wretched styling of his hair. But he held himself back, not even lifting a finger. Instead, he placed a hand on the pommel of his sword, and another on Rikard's shoulder. It was awkward staring up towards the monstrous man, but Edvard didn't quite care.\n\n\"I am not better than anyone. I am a knight.\" Edvard began, sighing slightly. \"You have the makings of a knight, but your motivations are skewed. You'd stop at nothing to beat the life out of a thief, but you aren't doing it for the victim. A true knight would rather fall on his sword than see a crime go unpunished. But they do it for the sake of the victim. We cut down the murderer for the sake of the dead, not because we hate the criminal. You catch the thief to return goods to their rightful owner, not because you hate the thief. What we think and what we feel is irrelevant. The knight is not a man. The knight is a masked helm and a sharp sword. Stand up for those who cannot defend themselves not because you hate the strong, but because you love the weak.\" Edvard's hand slowly slipped from Rikard's shoulder and fell to his side. He softly fell back against the wall, clearly now disconnected from the conversation but willing to hear more. Rikard had found the more serious side of Edvard, much to Ed's dismay." }, { "author": "Sir Rikard Van Dahl, Fulminatus", "message": "Slowly, he nodded and took in the information at hand. Fall on his sword rather than see a crime unpunished, check. Motivations skewed... That meant they were twisted. Cut down the murderer not because you hate murderers, but because the victim was wronged? Wasn't that the reason to hate murderers? Or thieves, for that matter. Because they took what was rightfully other people's - their lives and property.\n\n\"So, I don't know, what you've said... I figure the way you're putting it, I should be focusing on what to do to make their crimes better or right the wrong. But isn't that why I already have an issue with them? Because they steal, because they mug people, because they kill people without proper cause? I mean, is it wrong to hate people like that?\" He asked, raising an eyebrow." }, { "author": "Ser Edvard Eldebrand", "message": "Edvard shook his head, frustrated with the boy. It felt almost wrong, thinking of him as a boy. The man was a 7ft thug in steel armor, yet he presented himself as a petulant child. It seemed they granted knighthood to anyone with a sword nowadays. Edvard thought back to Ser Hastings, and the gallant life he led. It felt unfair for him, the noble hedge knight, to be laying in his grave with this boy in his stead. Knighthood was a sham. Once again caught in a spiral of grief and remorse, Edvard continued to think of his late master. All the battles he had fought, all the lessons he had taught Edvard, instructing him to be a warrior of justice and morality, a shining pillar of hope and inspiration. Now look at him. A sad man hiding under plate armor in a feeble attempt to run from the gods that punished his every step. Ed felt hypocritical instructing the boy. He didn't follow the rules he laid out so carefully to Rikard. Only Ser Hastings did. And Ser Hastings was long, long dead. The last remnant of a dying age of valor and honor. A true shame.\n\n\"It is.\" Edvard choked, casting his eyes to the cold dirt below. The skies grew dark above the two as clouds blocked the sun, replacing it's rays with dark patterns of rain in an instant. Edvard refused to move, letting the water smash against his breast-plate and pauldrons with a stoic silence. \"The knight is not a man. The knight is a masked helm and a sharp sword. Your emotions play no part in your duty. You are a weapon of justice, not a tool of your own personal desires. You were not given that sword and armor so you could batter those you hate and gorge yourself on the gluttony of self-fulfillment. You are not to hate. You are not to love. You are to do what is right, and only what is right.\" He sighed softly, casting his head towards the heavens as they cried above. \"But, when one is taken by emotion, tis better to love than to hate. Until you learn the ways of stoicism, practice compassion, not hatred.\"" } ]	319	1,260
275.666667	2022-06-07	GuildTextChat	[ { "author": "Sir Rikard Van Dahl, Fulminatus", "message": "\"Weapon of justice and all that.\" He rolled the words around in his mouth. \"So, not enough to just do your duty, you gotta Be Your duty. That's what you're saying? It's not just a job, it's a way of life. I guess I can get behind that, but it's definitely not what I've been doing so far.\" There was something in it that rang half true to him, but it would be pretty tough to stop hating the criminals that had previously been so detrimental to his parents' lives and to the general peace.\n\nThe night he had come home with what few coppers he had as a boy, determined to help his family buy a little food, only to have that handful of sweat-stained coins swiped away from him by someone with a knife and a bad attitude... It was a more than he could forgive at the moment. Thieves, he thought to himself, were the worst of criminals - because every crime deprived someone of their work, what they'd tried hard to earn and needed to eat with.\n\n\"Have you let go of something pretty big?\" He asked skeptically. \"I mean... It's easier said than done.\"" }, { "author": "Ser Edvard Eldebrand", "message": "The rain just wouldn't seem to stop. Edvard's hair, even though it was cut rather short, began to sag and flop over his eyes, forcing him to raise his cold steel glove to his forehead, softly swiping his dark hair away. He ran his fingers down the back of his scalp, wincing slightly as hairs were caught and pulled in the small joints of his armor once more. It was meaningless pain. Reaching down towards his side, he inspected the large plate helm resting on his hip, allowing his fingers to comb over ever slight bump and dent before he even dared look down towards it. Finally, his sullen eyes made their way down towards the fine piece of steelwork, revealing to him a spotless helm. He cleaned it regularly. Other than Gerhard, his helmet was the only thing he really cared about. Mainly because it wasn't his. It was Ser Hastings' helm, passed onto to Edvard after Hastings had passed. It was still a little too large for Edvard. Ser Hastings was a large man, standing around 6ft 7. Edvard didn't care. His helm was the last memory he had of his lost life. Of Findara. Of his home. It was an honor to have it. He'd rather die wearing it than let it accumulate dust on some shelf in a castle.\n\nHe allowed the helmet to fall over his head, reducing his vision to the small peripherals granted by the slats in the visor. It'd be enough. The limited vision helped him tune out the world, and the loud clanging of raindrops striking the top of the helm certainly helped him drown the rest of the noise out. Edvard stared towards the castle for a moment, noticing the window of his chamber. Each of the guard had their own chamber. He imagined the others were far better than his. Ser Winrae likely had decorations and gold dripping from every corner to suit her ego. Edvard's had a bed and a stool. It was all he needed. Slowly, he turned back to Rikard, addressing him with a now muffled voice. \"Knights don't overshare, remember?\"\n\nEdvard chuckled softly before he stepped forward, his heavy boots now digging small moats in the mud with each step. \"This rain won't be good for our armor. Best be getting back.\" And with that, he disappeared into the fog, sighing heavily.\n\n\n\nHe hated rain." }, { "author": "Sir Rikard Van Dahl, Fulminatus", "message": "What followed was simply a snort of derision from Rikard. \"So dramatic. And he talks about stoicism...\"\n\nBut as the older knight stepped away from the stables, the younger followed, considering letting a few drops stay on the scales. It was always nice to be near water is you had the right mindset about it..." } ]	248	827
543	2022-08-13	GuildTextChat	[ { "author": "Prince Hannibal Samir", "message": "The Prince of the dunes entered the thrown room. His outfit was nothing like the one he wore to thunder fest. It fully covered his body in a white and orange robe, only with the smallest hint of extravagance on it. Sadly only having three rings worn on his hands, but each ring was more rare than the last, with one covered in small rubies, another with a large blood diamond, and finally a common silver ring. His wrists and forearm were wrapped in a golden braces that sat nicely, with the glimmer of the gold just managing to escape the fine silk sleeves. As they day was not one to draw attention, he was defiantly dress quite reserved.\n\nThe Sun Elf looked around at the numerous nobles and other members of Royalty, slightly intimidated the Prince was ready to watch on. He walked down the isle and found his seat. He'd look over to a high elf which he could only assume was some noble of Findara that was close to the previous king, given the mermaid dress. He did find the beauty of such an elf intriguing, but he assumes he'll wait for the next thunder fest to speak to such a lady. \n\nFor his first time seeing the Bear king, he felt a shiver down his spine, knowing the man was such an influential figure. He was not scared of the shapeshift as a man, as the prince had taken down many a creatures in the desert. When he saw Delsandra again he got a small grin, knowing at least someone that was semi-positive towards him was here. Besides his sister at least. \n\nHe stood in his aisle and waited for his sister to find him, and the coronation to properly begin. He was upset that the organisers couldn't be bothered to have seats at the very least." }, { "author": "King Alyus Archaius", "message": "What a sight it was to many to see the dreaded, bloody bear king in his human form, and attending the coronation of Prince Astalios Dilitrios no less. His presence was enough to cause mutterings and whispers, but he hoped it would send a message across the land that Alyus was not what many believed him to be. At least, that's what he hoped would happen. In reality, it took a lot for Alyus to muster the will to come to such a ceremony. After all, the moment the king had heard news of Sideron's passing, he celebrated by getting drunk. Down with those that had wronged him and his family. In Infernum may they burn and stay for all eternity.\n\nAlyus would not let his mind linger on such a blood boiling subject. Rolling his neck gently, Alyus straightened out his form as he stood next to Khisfire's princess. Donning his signature silver, black, red and gold armor, the look all came together at the apex of the bear king's form; his glorious crown. It was only then did it settle in that Prince Astalios would soon wear one just as Alyus', and rule over a kingdom that had the strength to challenge his own. Clenching his jaw slightly, Alyus would simply have to play the game that all royals played. Speaking of, Alyus soon looked down at Princess Nala with a side eye, the king cleared his throat and looked ahead. Speaking calmly, his voice was like a rockslide from his throat down to the princesses ear, and likely the prince beside her as well.\n\n\"It's a pleasure to meet you both, your highnesses. Even under such grim circumstances.\" Alyus did not offer the same greetings to Princess Delsandra nor the high elf woman towards the end he did not recognize. Not out of spite or in an attempt to be rude, Alyus simply didn't wish to speak over the son and daughter of Khisfire. That Would be rude. He'd simply have to greet them later on." }, { "author": "Princess Nala Samir", "message": "Frigid was the somber air that laid rather silent within the throne room of Alynthi, hardly any chatter present from the bodies that, few and far between, filled the massive space beneath the four white marble pillars that held up the decorated ceiling under soon to be King Astalios's throne. Given the tone of such a double edged sword- the atmosphere was quite dull. Color present, but not in the eyes of many. Princess Nala Samir had already trailed in behind her big brother, Hannibal, and stood shortly beneath the grace of him, as well as the other four royals. Her face was solemn, radiating the same look she always had during royal meetings or get-togethers. However, this time was deemed far more serious than just a prince's coronation. It was the loss of one was well. King Sideron was an honorable man, one who garnered respect from many, and was surely leaving a lot of hearts broken on this day of celebration. Catching the eye of the Queen regent, Samir took note of the glossy haze stuck in her eyes. And to that gave a gentle nod of silent respect as the two locked gazes.\n\nIt had been a very long time since the princess of Khisfire had left her castle home, though she hadn't forgotten her manners and duties as a royal in the slightest. Even if it was her own brother who had to drag her out from her bed to bring her here, Nala would remain a pillar of respect and grace in these weighing times. It was the least she could do. Although, being that it was her first appearance out since her own tragic loss, the princess was anxious of small talk about it all- hating the gossip of her life come from mouths who did not well know her...\n_ _\n\nUnlike her brother, who was proudly wearing their respective kingdom colors, Nala opted for her own choice of wardrobe that consisted of mainly all black. At a first glance, it almost would have seemed as though the princess was attending a funeral, and not a coronation. However, the more you gaze upon the sun elf's presence, her beauty shined through the respective clothing draping her petite yet curvaceous frame. Mermaid dresses seemed to be an appearing theme here tonight, as Nala donned an elegant, tight knit gown that cut lowly under the tops of her torso. Golden specs of iron lace crisscrossed through the fabric, creating somewhat of a corset effect in the front. On each shoulder, the princess could be seen with long curtain shoulder capes that draped all the way to the floor in length, gold chained cuffs keeping them in place as they laid beautifully across her chest and neck- attaching to the layered golden collar around her thin neck. Samir's look was fully completed with a few touches of jewels embedded into her long, thick braid. That dark raven hair tumbling down the side of her almost to the floor just like her dress- each loose strand of hair framing her tan face and making her bright green emerald eyes pop with color. Lastly, the crown sitting atop her head gave way to the entire look, making her seem rather intimidating in all black, but also very refined. Being the youngest here, Nala didn't want to be looked down upon. \n_ _\n\nNevertheless, what princess Samir Didn't Expect, was to be standing directly next to a man she did not know, but felt alarmed enough to keep her eyes away from. At first glance, the skyscraper of a male definitely stood out within the line up of royals. His armor striking intimidation through the poor girls heart, although.. It took her a minute to recognize that symbol... He was the bear king. \nNala quietly took a sharp breath inwards, feeling the cold air get sucked through her teeth and down her throat like a jab to her windpipe. Quickly, and rather slyly, the princess then inched herself closer towards her brother, before gently looping her arm into his so the pair were touching. A normal sign for the older prince to know his sister was getting antsy. Never in a million years would Nala think she would be in the presence of such a monstrous man, and thus, started to question just why he was invited here today. Nevertheless, the young sun elf kept her composure, and never wavered that silent look on her face. Even when King Alyus boomed his voice down to the siblings... \n_ _\n\nA painful chill ran up Nala's back the moment she felt his hot breath tingle beneath her long pointed ears. There was a flex in the woman's jaw as she kept her eyes straight ahead- Squeezing Poor Hannibal's hand in hopes he would take over the talking after she spoke up, \"The pleasure is ours, Great Bear King.\" Samir said, a sharp sternness in her heavily accented tone. Even if Nala was sheepish around the one and only legend of the ice King, it Was Rather intriguing to finally meet him in person. Because, as legend serves, Alyus has never left his kingdom in Years. So perhaps he is starting to have a change of heart... Regardless of his reasoning's, the princess felt her mind lingering to the other royals standing off to the right of her brother. She was amazed at the beauty of princess Delsandra, and even the gorgeousness of a high elf she had never met. Jealousy was not something Nala would ever come to find herself experiencing, as she knew her worth in beauty. However, the young woman loved to admire all souls, finding the natural beauty in everyone she meets." }, { "author": "The Tale Weaver", "message": "As the royalty and nobility allowed themselves a few fleeting moments of conversations, a wave of silence soon befell the attendees as a priest decorated in robes of black walked to the front of the room. To nearly everyone, the priest would immediately be recognized as a high priest of Devinah the All-Mother, made obvious by his black robes littered with little white stars that almost seemed to twinkle and move. The man himself was a tall and slim high elf with a pure white circlet atop his head, a single black jewel at its center. The last two notably features about the priest was the long necklace hanging down the front of his robe, the symbol at the end one all would recognize as the symbol of Devinah, two hands cupping a planet; Lucidien. The other, the large staff in his hand with the same symbol sitting atop it.\n\nAs the crowd quieted down in his presence, the priest raised his hands to the sky and closed his eyes, offering a silence prayer to the Gods above before offering nothing more than a simple nod in the direction of the doors into the throne room down the aisle. The two rows of guards seemed to tense a bit, and as the doors slowly opened in walked the princess of Alynthi; Alora Dilitrios." }, { "author": "Princess Alora Dilitrios of Alynthi", "message": "The massive throne room doors swung open. Suspense, then light. A bright hue of soft yellow and black ignited the room as the sun shafted through the stained glass windows and sent its rays into the castle. As light towed into the room, a solemn and sorrowful individual was seen standing at the frame of the open doors. It was the princess of the kingdom. Her cheeks seemed puffed and rosy, as well as stained with streaks of dried tears. The emerald eyes of the kingdom's gem glistened as welling tears created a thin layer over the iris of each. \n\nAlora straightened her posture by pulling back her sinking shoulders and slightly puffing out her chest. The princess sharply drew in air from her nose, and right before she could let it out she took her first stride. She suck up her welling tears as much as she could before she continued to walk forwards and further into the throne room. Her steps were small and elegant, but each step held some form of hesitancy. If it was not clear already, the princess was dearly missing her father. Though, that wasn't the only reason why she had tears teasing her sockets. She was proud of her brother and bliss that his hard work was about to pay off by inheriting the crown to be known as ruler. \n\nShe wore a beautiful black-n'-gold dress and a cape that'd been the result of the labour of thousands of silk worms.\n\nThe dress had been crafted and sewed for special moments that'd require her to further represent her kingdom. Indeed was she wearing it on this very special day, but her general fit had a touching detail to it. On her neck circled a necklace of gold that her father had gifted her to wear strictly on special occasions. She hadn't gotten to wear this piece of jewelry yet, until today. Her head held her precious tiara that'd been decorated with many luxurious gems and rocks. \n\nIn the hands of the princess was a precious vase occupied with holy ointment. Only the gods knew how many Alynthi royals had been blessed by this oil. Once she made it to the end of the throne room, she handed the vase off to the priest that was present and lowered her head down to pay her respect. Elegantly she stepped off to the left and placed oneself next to her tearful mother that stood next to the throne. The ceremony had officially begun." } ]	427	2,715
701.6	2022-08-14	GuildTextChat	[ { "author": "Queen Sierra Seey", "message": "Sierra, already a solemn presence in this room of mixed emotions, becomes sterner yet as she sees the young princess enter the room. Her gaze, all her attention, and interest caught by the woman. \n\nOf course, she wasn't alone in watching Alora proceed down the hall, but she did display an overly open curiosity, for who she was as a person, outside of this occasion. As well as sympathy and empathy for her fathers fate, and what consequences it brought with it and admiration, for the high craftsmanship of her dress. Something she would no doubt bring up later, considering her own experience in the craft. \n\nShe recalled what things her grandparents had divulged of the Alynthian royal family, and remembered her title. \nWith her thumb, just as Alora was about to pass, she swiped across the tourmaline in her necklace, and for a moment just, the fellow princess would see it flash in her royal colors, should she looks at the soon-to-be queen of Findara, that was. An encouragement, and if she could make it known that she at least knew 'of' the princess, conversation would be much easier later down the line. \n\nIf she did look her way or not, Sierra cared little. \n\nBut Alora's vulnerable appearance, did awake a dormant, motherly instinct in her. And the high elf would want to seek her after the coronation, when things would quiet down. Be it just to exchange pleasantries, and make sure she managed to stomach the days proceedings, though she did warm up to the idea of planting the first seeds of a potential friendship, the longer she thought about it. \n\nAs her thoughts muddied her mind with fantasies, so too did her outwardly cold appearance melt, for a few seconds only. So she was grateful that hardly anyone had eyes for her, and she could calmly return to her usual, slightly displeased veil. \n\nAnd as she did, her gaze once again shift back to the entrance, expecting the man of the occasion, to walk through next." }, { "author": "Astalios, Iron King", "message": "The visage of Astalios Dilitirios was normally as stern as his efforts to control himself. But in this matter, there was a different weight to the situation - a different sort of officiality that placed the full burden of leadership upon his shoulders. First came the oath, then the assumption of rule. It was so close he could feel the enormity of what he was about to do settling into his being with a finality that reminded him of the last breath of a soldier on the battlefield - one cut, one thrust, one moment, and it was done.\n\nThe death of a father. The weight of a crown. Both over his head.\n\nHe had loved his father dearly from the start, taken his lessons readily, not stepped out of line. Moments had passed where he had looked into the bearded face of the king and seen who he had wanted to be, the man he needed to become. It was now over. The man lived only in his memories for the moment. It would be a long time before he lived again. \n\nThe steps of Alora down the aisle were occurring. He felt the necklace travel down the path, felt the gold of the jewelry that their father had given her and the diadem that was made likewise in gold filigree, an work of art upon her head. Felt the threads of her dress, wrought with filament of golden thread. She was taking those steps towards destiny, the oil within her hands. He, however, was waiting in the antechamber, a private room before the doors, in the narthex. It was a space used for ambassadors readying for audiences, bridegrooms before a royal wedding, princes before coronations...\n\nPeople waiting for their lives to change.\n\nMosaics in gold and silver tile decorated the room, onyx black patterning stags along with the pure yellow metal. It was fortunate, he thought to himself, that he was the one here. Each surface of the palace spoke to him in some way, whispering of wrought iron hinges and doors, golden candelabras lending their light, silver cutlery for them to eat with. Bronze pots in the kitchens.\n\n_ _\nEven now he sat upon an old oaken bench, the cushions fastened with brass tacks, faint, but still copper along with the zinc inside them. Even the windows spoke to him, the stained glass holding bits of lead and copper within them, lending them color and life.\n\nThe palace was no longer his father's. It was His, and his responsibility alone. \n\nThe weight of commanding armies, he had thought, was large in itself. Sending men to die was never pleasant. But winning battles and governing were not the same ordeal, and it was foolishness to pretend otherwise.\n\nInhale, exhale. Inhale, exhale. In through the nose, out through the mouth. Establish a rhythm. Breathe.\n\nHis eyes closed, and he let himself see only what could be seen through his magic. One at a time. The shield, made of steel, large enough to stand on, engraved with the stag, carried by four priests in golden livery and vestments. He would be raised on it like his father before him.\n\nTwo, the crown. Pure gold, the points of antlers like thorns in a wreath of wrought metal, the symbol of office, the recognition of his birthright. Held by the high priest, his own head adorned with golden symbols of divinity.\n\nThree, the royalty arrayed in a row. The rings of Prince Hannibal, decadent as always, each one alloyed of gold and silver. A silver collar. He had to remember - who was it on the end of the aisle, next to the silver mounts for ribbons? Sierra. Princess of Thyseer. It was an introduction to remember, he supposed. It had a gemstone of some kind mounted in it. Strange. \n\nArmor, alloyed gold and iron and copper, in large dimensions, towering over Prince Hannibal's rings and circlet. It was quite like him to attempt to intimidate at any event. A crown made in extravagant proportions, overblown. Obtuse. Showy. Alyus. And... The seating chart laid itself out in his mind once more. The lace, criscrossing itself around a thin golden collar, the backing of a dress. Princess Nala Samir of Khisfire.\n\n_ _\nThe final one in attendance, Delsandra of Thyseer, bedecked in golden thread. He knew her jewelry well, those ears shot through with filigree.\n\nAnd... \n\nA stag, silver through and through, shining bright to unseen eyes, made by his hand and by his magic, the maker of the call, the symbol of favor. On the other side of the aisle.\n\nThey snapped open, the muddy brown orbs revealed under weathered eyelids, as a knock sounded on the door, gentle. One of the priests, he knew. He could feel the holy symbol hanging on the chain of gold. \n\nIt was time to wait before the door, until the call of the priest summoned him into the throne room. His feet found the floor firmly, placing themselves one after the other under him. He wore no armor this day, nor his prince's crown. The circlet was abandoned for something greater. He was adorned in a white robe of silk, no embellishment upon it. Over it was a black cloak, the same silken consistency, made by craftsmen that had woven these garments for his ancestors. At his shoulder was a clasp of gold, patterned with antlers, wrought by the hands of dwarves hammering in sacred duty, holding the cloak in place. Upon his feet were sandals of brown leather, studded with gems each, a yellow diamond in black iron mounts upon the fastenings.\n\nHis legs carried him to the door, one step after the other. Breathe in, breathe out. Breathe in, breathe out. \n\nHis father had worn these garments, he thought to himself, and so would his son after him. He wished that his father was here to see him now - to see the cloak of office upon his shoulders, and the crown upon his head. Would he have been proud or disappointed? Would he be a good king? His hand rested on the handle for a split second.\n\nSteel yourself. Move forward. Be* The man you need to become.\n\n_ _\nHe pushed the door open with finality, striding past the priest with a knowing glance and a nod of respect to the man that had come to remind him. When the great oaken doors to the throne room faced him, he stopped, waiting breathless for the call to enter.\n\nAstalios's hair had been brushed back, carefully curated, cut precisely. It fell in orderly waves of black from his head, contrasting in some respects the weathered face of the man about to be king. His eyes were the muddy brown of silt at the bottom of a lake, ears slightly pointed in the fashion of half-elves. His jaw protruded in a masculine fashion, and he could have been called handsome by those inclined to such compliments. His frame was more heavily built than a true elf's, resembling a human in that respect.\n\nIron Prince no more. Now... About to become something greater. He waited, eyes closing once again, and dipped his head in silent prayer, asking the gods for guidance. For the wisdom he needed to endure the years to come..." }, { "author": "The Tale Weaver", "message": "As Alora made her way down the aisle, each guard in the two rows dipped their heads respectfully as she passed. The priest retrieved the oil from the princess, and once she took her place next to the queen, the priest returned his gaze to the doors. Two men stood ready to open the doors once more, and with nothing but a simple nod they did so. As the large doors opened, the two rows of guards stiffened before unsheathing their swords and pointing them upward in a ninety degree angle, the tips of their swords meeting the opposite guard's. After the gentle clinging of metal and the shuffling of armor was overtaken by silence once more, the Iron Stag finally made his entrance." }, { "author": "Astalios, Iron King", "message": "The sound of the unsheathing swords would have been enough for Astalios's eyes to snap open, even if he had not seen in his mind's eye the myriad weapons pulled from their scabbards, forming an arch in front of him as the hinges of the throne room door began to swing forwards. It was now. The time was here. As those first few glimpses of the aisle in front of him met his eyes, he drew in breath once more, then exhaled. And before the doors had fully opened, he found himself being carried forward, not only by his feet, but by his destiny.\n\nOne day, his father had told him, he would sit upon the throne, and take charge of all Alynthi. \n\nToday was a day no different than any other. The sun rose in the east, set in the west. And tonight the seas would rise and fall, the moon shine bright. The world seemed to change, however, as he made his first footsteps towards the dais that awaited him, golden decorated sandals making his feet feel lighter, the cloak he wore like an iron weight. Black and white garb, the gold at his shoulder. Perhaps it was every man's destiny to one day take up the mantle of life. \n\nHe wondered if for all of them, it felt quite so momentous. \n\nOne foot in front of the other had carried him from the bench to the doors, and likewise, they carried him down the aisle as he held his head high, the expression on his face just as grim as any other day, the worries of his daily life creasing his brow permanently now that his daily life included kingship, and the responsibility of filling his father's shoes. He knew he was capable. Every man was capable with the right will to improve. But the ability to lead... It needed to never cease within a kingdom for that kingdom to be prosperous.\n\nLeadership made the difference in times of trouble.\n\nWith Dazvaz stirring like a hornet's nest, Gantrick's concerning policies... His father might have been able to navigate all of it. But he supposed he had been preparing for a while now.\n\n_ _\nHe had been sent on diplomatic missions, he had been to Thunder Fest, he had mingled and met people day in and day out. He had learned to hunt, to relax when needed. To judge and investigate properly those crimes he considered intolerable, to show the people he was a man of his word and a man of honor. The eyes of the world were upon him, and he intended not to disappoint. To be harsh in times when it was needed, kind to his people, unquestionable in judgment. To always be discerning in whose word to trust.\n\nHe needed to create a council of his own. His father's council would be retained, mostly, but at least for the military, he needed a commander he had served with and trusted beyond doubt. Someone who not only had a reputation for personal bravery, but an intellect to match, a strategist, a tactician. He could not always be there to make the decisions.\n\nPerhaps that was the only seat he knew quite how to assign. Perhaps he might have needed a quartermaster of the army for a master of coin. The swords over his head, the guards providing him an archway of steel. It was as it should have been. Each of the men present in this honor guard had served with him in Dazvaz, proved themselves worthy. Officers, enlisted men, peasants, nobles. Each had distinguished themselves within their roles, and each held their swords straight. He could not have been prouder.\n\nOne step after the other. He continued down the aisle, into the gold-wrought throne room, facing his sister gravely, watching his mother's eyes stream with tears. One step after the other, and his feet had suddenly carried him up the steps of the dais and before the throne - before the priest. His head bowed before the authority of the gods before he knew it, and he knelt as was tradition.\n\nBehind him, the four priests carrying the shield that he was to be raised on stopped, waiting below the steps of the dais to hear the incantations of the priest, and Astalios held his breath...\n\n_ _\nHear now the supplication of us the unworthy..." }, { "author": "Queen Sierra Seey", "message": "Sierra finds herself surprised by how solemn and depressing everything was. \nShe thought this would be a cause for celebration more so than anything. \nLoss of a king or not. \nTears were bein shed, heads were held higher to hide pain, and some lower to express it. \n\nShe began to feel out of place. Apathetic to the struggles that had lead to this moment for Astalios. And she realized what she had missed out on. \nBeing raised to be king. Was so very different than being dragged from a normal life into the role. \nNot to mention how slow it all was to an elf. Yet how quick this all had gone down. Not even a weeks time to prepare.\nHer gaze shift to her side, to the crying princess next to her mother. \n\nShe imagined herself standing there. Her father dead. A brother she might have had taking the throne. \nBut while she imagined it, she hardly felt it. She had no idea the completexity of emotions going through her. \nA thought that troubled her deeply.\n\nAnd turned back to watch the prince approach the altar.\nDespite her features as cold as ever, she found herself suddenly moved by the solemnity of the moment. The swords, a show of loyalty. \nA tear welled from the corner of her eyes, rolled down her cheek, and dropped to the floor. Her left hand jerked forwards, as if to stop it, a futile attempt.\n\nOnce again her mind returned to her simple life as a farmgirl in Khisfire. And she realized, that she has sacrificed something herself. Something so fundamentally different, and that she gave away so irrationally easy. She chose to. And what was apathy, turned to empathy. He had lost so much more than her. More than she could most likely fathom. And he never had the choice, never wanted to choose. \n\nThe tear made sense now. \nAnd as Astalios passes her, she closes her eyes, and gave him a solemn nod of respect. And another tear, passed down her other cheek. \nSurprising even herself, she had managed to understand his pain. Never in its entirety of course. But enough to know. Or so she thought. \n\nShe knew she could not be a replacement for their father. But the siblings made her want to protect them. Be there for them. As little as that would mean.*" } ]	495	3,508
570	2022-08-17	GuildTextChat	[ { "author": "Astalios, Iron King", "message": "The words pounded like distant waves upon his mind. Each of them he had read a thousand times and reread ten thousand. Hear now the supplication of us the unworthy. The feel of the holy oil as it poured over him, bestowing upon him the blessing of the gods to rule his kingdom, was unlike anything he had ever felt - a symphony of sadness and pride, of grim duty and sheer joy.\n\nIt was the touch of the truly sublime - of the divine - that hit him now, drove him to such emotion!\n\nTears might have welled up in his eyes is he had not steeled himself against them, forced himself to project that same aura of strength. He would not falter before the eyes of the world, he would not fail before any examination, and he would bear the weight and the joy of what was now his station with the utmost honor - making his life a service to his people, protecting the realm and the world, keeping the flame of hope alive. \n\nIt was his duty to succeed his father. Now, it was to be fulfilled. With a voice that surprised even him in its strength, he let the reply pour from his lips, like a vessel of strong wine finally uncorked. The speech was filed with passion that gave it substance.\n\n\"Lady Devinah of our fathers, All Mother, who created all things by thy word, and by thy wisdom has made man, that he should walk uprightly and rule righteously over the world; thou hast chosen me as King and judge over thy people.\" Chosen as king and judge. It was a truth now, spoken to the ears of the world around him, imprinted on reality. Those that chose to ignore it now were willfully blind or simply spiteful, refusing to see what was plain and right.\n\n_ _\n\"I acknowledge thy unsearchable purpose towards me, and bow in thankfulness before thy majesty. Do thou, my Lady and Governor, fit me for the work to which thou hast sent me; teach me and guide me in this great service. May there be with me the wisdom which belongs to thy throne; send it, that I may know what is well-pleasing in thy sight, and what is right according to thy commandment.\" Sharp control, he thought to himself, was the mark of a good king, and the oaths of his fathers well knew this. The oaths they had spoken were meant to be followed, and he hoped he was a worthy tool for the task of ruling, a man to be admired in time, to make his mark on history last.\n\n\"May my heart be in thy hand, to accomplish all that is to the profit of the people committed to my charge and to thy glory, that so on the day of Ygdramen's judgment...\" Astalios would be king until he died, or the world ended. Ygdramen would judge not only his soul, but his worth as a leader then, and he hoped he would be fit to the standard.\n\n\"I may give him an account of my stewardship without blame.\" He concluded, voice echoing through the throne room with finality. He bowed his head once more to accept the crown. Soon, he would be raised on the shield the four carried. He never thought he would see the day when this ceremony was performed for him." }, { "author": "The Tale Weaver", "message": "The priest dipped his head respectfully to Astalios before finally placing the crown of a king upon his head. Now that he had been raised up into the air, the four priests holding the shield he stood upon turned so he could face those there to witness this coronation. The priest of Devinah raised his hands high to the heavens before his voiced boomed into every pair of ears within the throne room.\n\n\"Long live the king!\"\n\nThe four priests then lowered the shield, allowing Astalios to step off of it. Moving out of the way, the newly named king would then be able to take his seat at the throne, the throne for the king of Alynthi. It was where his father once sat, and his father before him, and now Astalios would reign over one of the greatest and largest kingdoms across Lucidien. All who laid witness to this event would know it. The priest of Devinah stepped forward, gaining the attention of the crowd once more. Speaking for one final time, the priest shouted and all would repeat his words thrice, thus ending the coronation ceremony once and for all.\n\n\"Valda! Valda! Valda!\"" }, { "author": "King Alyus Archaius", "message": "Watching the proceedings unfold, Alyus had all but drowned out the monotonous speech the priest had given, then the answer Astalios followed with. He was more than bored of all this talk and ceremony, but he had to remain stoic and alert. No reason to make an enemy of the new king, right? At least not yet. The king's eyes did dull when Astalios was lifted into the air like some idol of the Brotherhood however. Did he think this was some sort of concert? What was with all the posh and fluff, it was unnecessary at least to Alyus. Eyeing some of the other guests to gauge their reactions, all seemed awe struck like puppies and children with a new toy dangled in front of them. Alyus wished to leave, be done with this redundant ceremony. Returning his gaze to Astalios when he was lowered and then walked to the throne, the booming voice of the priest seemed to widen Alyus' eyes slightly.\n\n\"Valda! Valda! Valda!\" It was Alyus' voice that likely boomed over most others, loud enough to Ensure Astalios heard him. The bear king's crystal and icy blue eyes were locked onto the elven king, his expression one almost resembling that of mockery. Nevertheless, once all had finished shouting with one another, Astalios returned to his quiet stance, hands placed behind his back. Curious to see who else had shouted along with him, Alyus eyed the other royalty to his side. Nala clung to her brother like a home-sick child, Hannibal seemed more interested in the women present, Delsandra had her gazed glued to the newly crowned king and Sierra seemed more worried about the princess and queen. What a joke. Children, the lot of them. They were princes and princesses flanked by a true leader, and now another named before them.\n\n_ _\nAs the crowd awaited patiently for Astalios to give his first true speech as king, Alyus truly wondered what he'd say. Promises to the kingdom were likely, as well as a payment of respect to the late king Sideron. Perhaps even the queen regent would say a word or two, though based on her empty expression even with her daughter Alora at her side it was unlikely. So, Alyus remained stoic and quiet in his stance, and impatiently waited for the ceremony to end. All he wished for now was a drink." }, { "author": "Caleesi \| Grandmaster of Magic", "message": "\"Valda! Valda! Valda!\" Caleesi's soft voice chimed out into the air. She had been standing silently across rows of Alynthi guards that separated her from not only the royal guests, but also the comfort of the now named king and princess. Lady scarleth, when have hearing of the news of the former king's passing, had fallen deep into a state of sadness and despair. King Sideron was someone Cali's parents loved dearly. Someone so constant in her life, as she was frequently attending royal gatherings on behalf of him and his family. Seeing such despondency here today... It was hard not to shed a tear to such a beloved and well respected king, however, the grandmistress would not do such a thing. At least not right now. Perhaps the perks of being a vampire was the beautiful yet- scary access to your core emotions. Being able to control them in times such as these, Caleesi was able to frame her angelic face to look as aesthetically pleasing as she wished. And, in this case, it remained rather sensible and pragmatic. Fully aware of the grief that lingered in the air, but also fully attentive to the joyous celebration of her old friend and prince.\n_ _\n\nThere was not an inkling of a doubt in Cali's mind that Astalios was going to be a great leader, as he had proved himself worthy of this role so many times before. Upon the coronations beginning, the high elf could sense the disposition on the king's face. Whether or not his deep brown eyes lifted her way or not, Caleesi did her best to offer gentle smiles of admiration and proudness, the ends of her cheeks lively hinted a kiss of pink that lit up the joy in her bright blue eyes. Her heart was full of great pleasure and happiness for him, and she would only wish that he could feel the same for himself. As the ceremony was coming to an end however, Lady Scarleth took the time to shift her focus elsewhere if only for a moment. She had paid no mind to the guest this evening, mainly due to the pain shattered all over Alora and her mothers faces. It pained Caleesi to know end to know exactly how they were feeling, and wished so deeply to be by their side in such a dire time of need. However, part of Cali even wondered if Princess Alora would even come to recognize her anymore, as she was far too young to know of the high elf's presence in her castle so long ago...\n_ _\n\nRegardless of her thoughts and opinions, the grandmistress took the time to gaze her sights upon the royals that stood mere feet away from her. Of course she couldn't see them all perfectly through the hulking figure's of armored knights that separated them, but what she Could See was that of a far more massive figure, one that's armor she had not ever seen before. Squirting to get a better look, Caleesi's eyes flickered ever so slightly as she put the pieces together of just who this odd man was that towered amongst the rest. He was the great bear king, and that alone sparked confusion and interests all at once. Scarleth had only ever heard of tales and rumors when it came to King Alyus. Ones of fear, and many of mystery. Studying the drab look on the man's face, Caleesi fiddled with the stag clipped to her side, brushing her fingertips over the figurine's antlers all the while she pondered on what it would be like to talk to such a legendary King. Perhaps she would if given the chance... But for now, the high elf let her eyes drift elsewhere. \n_ _\n\nShe took note of the siblings of Khisfire, their lavish cultural outfits sticking out to her in ways of elegance and uniqueness. Caleesi didn't see much use in talking to Prince Hannibal or Princess Nala Samir in truth, given she figured there would not be much to talk about. To her, they lead very different lives from the elven woman, and while Lady Scarleth was no stranger to the polar opposites, she did not feel the need to have small talk with every soul here tonight. Skimming her view further, the unforgettable appearance of Princes Delsandra struck a chill down the female's back- causing her posture to stiffen. Although Cali had only met the Eladrin elf once, she had left a rather sour taste within the sorceress's mouth. Something about her... It just wasn't right. Thus, Scarleth made a mental note to steer clear of her this evening if at all possible... Last but not least on the end of the row stood what was to be believed as another high elf. Someone Caleesi herself couldn't make out nor recognize. She did her best not to strain her neck to look, as that would be a disaster within itself. However, from what Cali could see, the royal woman seemed rather laid back and polite. Though- that was only an observation. Now that the Coronation was over, and Astalios was now named King, there would more than likely be time to engage in small talk. Caleesi herself torn between where her attention would be needed most as she began to twist her eyes from the royal guests and her King and princess..." }, { "author": "Queen Sierra Seey", "message": "\"Valda. Valda. Valda...\"\n\nSierra merely whispered the words. She had no desire to make herself be heard, in contrast to the overly compensating bear king. If anything, his showoffish behaviour told her all she needed to know, to confirm that rumors she had heard of him were true. \n\nThe soon-to-be Queen of Findara looked forward to what would come next. An opportunity to meet many new faces. Potential allies, and more dauntingly, potential enemies. Once again, her gaze shifts over the masses, and just to be certain, she runs a finger along her brow, pretending to push away some hair, while subtly casting a trivial spell that would enhance her eyesight. \n\nNo squinting necessary. \n\nHer gaze crosses that of Caleesi's, but with so many other interesting faces it barely lingered, greater interest was diverted to the newly coronated king. A man who she should make conversation with soon enough. \n\nFor now, she would await proceedings. After all they would hardly go and drink themselves silly here. Besides, her rather feeble back was already starting to ache from the bothersome standing around, and a seat or even an opportunity to lay would be heavenly. \n\nStill, she felt that this was... Underwhelming in some way. \nHer coronation would be twice as grand, and thrice as impressive. \nAfter all, Findara doesnt get to celebrate coronating an elven queen that often." } ]	506	2,850
649	2022-06-30	GuildTextChat	[ { "author": "Winrae Kaliyah, Kamara's Chosen", "message": "Morning had just peaked over the mountains to the east of Alynthi's castle, in the direction of the neighboring kingdom of Findara. This was the direction Winrae had flown, hard and fast throughout the entire night before. She had only arrived around two or three hours ago, just as the sky began to grow with the coming day's light. The moment she arrived back home, Winrae hardly new what to do with herself. The first thought that came to mind was to rush back to her sibling, beg for forgiveness. Sadly, those thoughts were quickly replaced with hateful ones, ones of pure rage, something that was growing increasingly common in the paladin. Spurts of nothing but a furious anger she couldn't control, before they'd disappear as quickly as they had come. The voice that was once Kamara's had been occasionally replaced by one much darker, more sinister...\n\nNow, Winrae found herself in Alynthi's castle and more specifically in the training grounds where many knights and guards found themselves. Most cleared out when they saw the paladin storming their way. Fully clad in her extremely recognizable and mountainous armor, Winrae had grabbed the first conjurer she could find and was currently in one of the few arenas in the training ground. On her signal, the mage would conjure specters to fight the royal knight. She'd cut through them like butter, each and every one. Finishing the last one off, Winrae turned to the mage and stomped his way. \"Why not give me a challenge, fool. Do you realize who I am? You think a handful of your poorly conjured specters will give me a challenge?\" Seething through her helmet, the mage could do nothing but nod in compliance. \"Yes, Lady Kaliyah!\"\n.\n\nTurning back toward the arena, the paladin steeled herself and stood in a prepared stance. Soon, not one, not two, but ten specters appeared one by one before her. Clad in armor, wielding bows, swords, shields, axes, any weapon one could think of stood before the winged knight. Greatsword in hand, the paladin allowed each specter to make the first move before cutting into them one by one. The first attempted to slam its shield into Winrae, but with the sheer power of a simple gust from her wings was blown back onto its back. Turning to the second, Winrae swung her greatsword, clashing with the spectral knight's own. As it parried her blow, Winrae slammed her sword into it over, and over, and over again until it finally tired, allowing the paladin to deliver the killing blow. The third, fourth and fifth all attempted to move in on Winrae as she was dealing the second, all of which fell one after the other from Winrae's swift but heavy attacks in the matter of seconds.\n\nThe same could be said for the final half of the small spectral army, before all that stood was a bowman. Turning her gaze toward the ghostly apparition, Winrae almost laughed at how it attempted to take a significant amount of space from her. With a simple thrust of her wings, Winrae was in the specters face in less than a second, slamming her greatsword through its ghostly body and causing it to disappear like all before it. Needless to say, Winrae remained disappointed in this 'training session'. Turning to the mage, the paladin raised her hand to signal the mage to leave. Without any delay, the man did just that and hastily retreated back into the safety of the castle. Now, Winrae stood still, still clad in her armor and sword in her hands. It was almost as if the esteemed warrior was lost in her own thoughts, unable to find a way out.\n.\n\nAll she could think about was Essme. The words that dared spill from Winrae's mouth. The reaction on her sister's face as she did so. Heartache began to crackle its way through Winrae's chest and neck, and she almost began to feel a lump in her throat, but quickly steeled herself once more. Essme brought this upon herself." }, { "author": "Ser Edvard Eldebrand", "message": "The dawn was welcomed by Edvard. It brought needed respite. Needed respite from the mental storm he had weathered just days earlier. His mind gazed towards the sky as he stared out towards the field, standing firm on the cold dirt of the training grounds. He swore he felt the voice of Grikta speak to him in words he couldn't dare decipher, her voice sweet as honey and bright as gold. Yet, the hairs on the back of his neck stood still, as the fire of Otis singed what remained of his rage and fear, bringing them out into the light where he had hoped they would never return. He stood in the same armor he had always worn, noticeably simpler than Winrae's, who stood in stark contrast to him. As she barked orders to her mage in her brilliant, golden armor, Edvard stood silently, staring out into the field in his dull, silver garments. The steel helm rested carefully on his head, trapping his cold breath in the steel and transferring it to his scalp, where frost's silent embrace pierced the very tips of his hair, chilling him to the bone.\n\nHis hands drew back on the long bow, one end planted carefully in the dirt, with the other pointing far to the sky. From his draw-hand, he drew an arrow, nocking it against the old, thick string. Carefully, he brought the string back, taking slow and deliberate breaths as his mind flew to the hay target left two hundred meters away in the field ahead of him. He nodded softly, and the young boy who stood next to the target ran off, taking cover behind a nearby tree. He required the use of a squire to drag the target out into the field, but wouldn't risk his death. He felt that the boy would grow into a valiant knight one day. Meeting his end in an easily preventable accident was unacceptable. All precautions had to be taken. He thought for a moment, his mind drifting from the target. Grikta. The Hewman. Wary. Joy. Otis. Rikard. Faelyth. Anger. All his rage boiled into a single lump, forcing him to loose the arrow.\n\nIt flew true. The arrow landed with a soft thunk in the hay bale, a foot from the bullseye.\n\nEdvard chuckled softly, bringing the bow down and shooting a thumbs-up to the squire hiding in the wood. He could see the boy smile and run out to the target, removing the arrow and stashing it in a quiver before he began to wheel the target away, finding another place to set up for practice. It'd be a few minutes. Resting the bow against the wooden wall of the armory, Edvard turned to the sound of fighting behind him, finding Winrae battling the conjured warriors of some mage. He was impressed, of course. It was Ser Kaliyah, after all. Kamara's Chosen. Astalios' favorite guard. He had heard stories of her work. She seemed a valiant warrior. Her display, of course, helped that notion. He rested carefully, allowing her to finish, before he raised his gloved hand out towards her, addressing the knight with a smile. He stood calmly, his appearance giving off a subtle sense of sorrow mixed with the infinite ink of inspiration.\n\n\"Ser Kaliyah. It's an honor to be in the presence of such an esteemed warrior.\" He began, sighing softly before he continued. His eyes inspected her golden armor, giving him slight pause. He still held true that knights were meant to be modest warriors of justice. Yet, Winrae stood clad in gold. It seemed hypocritical. But what did he know. She had a few decades on him, anyway. \"I am Ser Eldebrand. A knight of the royal guard as well. It's truly a shame we haven't met yet, but I trust you've been busy. The work of a knight is never done, after all.\"" }, { "author": "Winrae Kaliyah, Kamara's Chosen", "message": "Truth be told, Winrae hadn't noticed anyone else across the training grounds before or after she had begun her own training. They were there, but not in her mind. It was only her, the thoughts that plagued her mind, and the specters conjured to fight her. At first, Winrae didn't hear the knight that had called out to her, but as he continued to speak, she shook her head ever so slightly to finally free herself from the dark thoughts in her mind. Turning to the man who gave her his name, Winrae slowly looked him up in down from the safety of her helm. Nothing more than every other knight that approached the Chosen in search of recognition. Was he like the last? The last few that wished to brag to their friends that they had met the Winged Stag? Perhaps, perhaps not. All she could ponder on was the negative.\n\nSoon enough, Winrae finally moved from her stiff stance, removing her helmet to reveal the long fiery red locks sat upon her head. They were slightly disheveled, but swayed ever so gently like a calm flame. The paladin's eyes were a pure, raging white, and seemed to flicker ever so slightly like embers from a fire would, growing and dying in intensity with each passing second. Winrae stood tall over Edvard, especially given her armor gave her a good few extra inches. Even out of it though, she'd stand three more inches taller than him. It mattered not, what mattered what was he wanted with Winrae. The paladin's expression read with annoyance and slight boredom, but soon she opened her mouth, her voice as powerful as her presence. \"Never, it seems. Especially mine, as of late.\"\n.\n\nGlancing away slightly, Winrae placed her greatsword across her back and helmet beneath her arm before looking back into Edvard's eyes. Dancing between them with her own, a silence began to grow between them before a slight scoff escaped Winrae's lips. \"Were you in need of something, or did you simply come to marvel at my skill?\" Soon, the paladin realized where Edvard stood, near the archery range. Raising a brow a bit, she chose not to comment just yet. First, Winrae wished to know what exactly Edvard wanted. If it was nothing more than a discussion, perhaps then she'd inquire on his interest in archery." }, { "author": "Ser Edvard Eldebrand", "message": "Edvard stood quietly, his stomach churning slightly. He read the woman intently, studying every inch of her demeanor. Her golden armor, valiant greatsword, forked tongue, and venomous attitude. He hoped she would be some humble, valiant knight. A sword of justice. Maybe she was. But her egotistical speeches dismayed the serial pessimist. His eyes grew quiet behind the visor of his helmet as he relaxed slightly, taking a couple of steps towards Winrae. Through the small holes cut out in her helm, she almost looked pretty. Not quite, of course. Nothing seemed pretty to Edvard anymore. It hadn't for a while. For a moment, Edvard paused, wondering if his attitude had truly never changed. He promised himself to be that famed sword of justice he had always dreamed of being, but what if he was still that sad, wicked man hiding behind the safety of steel. He shook the thought from his hand, extending his hand towards the brash knight. He trusted her. He trusted that she was a valiant, just, and wonderful knight. The Iron Prince wouldn't have brought her to the top if she wasn't. A small smile escaped his lips, showing silently under the few slits in his helm.\n\n\"I require nothing, Ser. No autographs from me. I was here training, just as you were. I thought it'd be best if we were on amicable terms. We've been working together for almost a decade now. When the family truly needs us, I'd hope I can depend on you just as you can depend on me.\" Edvard chuckled softly, continuing to inspect the woman. He could pick up the faint sounds of steps coming from the field, knowing the squire would almost be finished with placing the target. He gripped the arrows in his hand with an iron anger, almost bringing the hollow shafts to snap. His rage seemed to flow through his arm and down into his hand, which he held firmly behind his back. His iron fist still extended out towards Winrae, though his mind seemed to travel from the conversation and onto her reputation. The stories.\n\nHe remembered hearing tales of her family and her exploits as if they were yesterday. A simple squire walking alongside Ser Hasting's steed, being recounted with tales of the Winged Stag. The graceful sword of Alynthi. The kingdom seemed so far away at the time, it burned her bodice into legend. A myth to young Edvard. Yet, here she stood. As golden as he imagined. Shining like the sun on a rainy day. Yet, he wasn't that squire anymore. No. Life had changed him. There weren't any false tales of glory or fanciful stories of honor embedded in his mind anymore. Valiant warriors weren't golden gods with fancy powers. Valiant warriors were anyone willing to lay down their lives in the name of justice. He didn't doubt Winrae's ability to do so, but something concerned him deeply. Something far within the depths of his heart. Something terrifying. Something he hadn't felt in a long while.\n\nDisappointment." }, { "author": "Winrae Kaliyah, Kamara's Chosen", "message": "Winrae's eyes remained glued to Edvards helm, but being an aasimar it was nearly impossible to read her eyes due to their pupiless appearance. In fact, it was impossible to truly know what she was looking at directly, for all that stood within her eye sockets were two blazing white balls of fury. Seeing his arm move out of the corner of her eye, Winrae finally looked downward to see he had extended his hand to shake her own. After a moment of stiffness, Winrae finally moved herself and took Edvard's hand in her own, shaking it firmly. The knight's words did bring a bit of relief to Winrae, causing her stiffness to noticeably relax. On any other day, Winrae would have warn a valiant smile, and lived up exactly to what Edvard thought she was, but not today. Not in recent weeks. Edvard chose the wrong time to meet his childhood hero.\n\nRelaxing, Winrae's wings spread out just a bit. If one were to count the aasimar's wings in her height, she'd easily be over eight feet tall. Now, they sat stretched above her head, each point in each wing folded neatly to a slight point, almost like two mountains standing over Edvard. At first, Winrae was not sure what to say to his words. The relief was felt to be sure, but what did he expect her to say? Shifting her weight on her legs, the paladin spoke once more as she removed her hand from Edvard's. \"I have served and will continue to serve the kingdom and the royal family until the day I am finally cut down, though no man, woman or beast has even come close to such a feat as of yet.\" Winrae's expression did not change as she spoke so highly of herself, but it did sound as though this was a normal thing for the paladin to discuss.\n.\n\nAs Edvard mention depending on one another as knights, Winrae couldn't help but think of Essme yet again. Winrae needed no one. Not her, not anymore. Let alone some random knight that happened to share her coat of arms. \"You can always depend on me, there's no worry there, Ser.\" Winrae crossed her gauntleted arms across her chest, the armor making quiet noises through satisfying clinks and clangs. It was clear based off of her stance and voice this was a boring conversation to the paladin, one that came all too often. Winrae knew she was the hero in many a story and to many a knight. It didn't mean she acted like one when met in person. Her attitude was easily blamed on recent events in her family and religious life, but Edvard of course didn't know that. No one knew of her troubles with Essme but the prince.\n\nNo one knew of her troubles with Kamara at all." }, { "author": "Ser Edvard Eldebrand", "message": "\"Truth is justice, and justice is truth.\"\n\nThe words rang through Edvard's mind as Winrae shook his hand, his eyes going blank and his mind flashing images of gold and honey. He was taken aback for a moment, his eyes flashing to the inside of his helm as Winrae spoke, her voice falling on deaf ears. The voice of a god filled his ears, bringing his mind to ruin yet glory in an instant. A field fell upon his mind, an image of a bright, golden sky with wheat stretching for miles. No flame torched the ground, no blood stained the dirt. Peace. Peace, and luck. Yet, a figure stood at the end of the field. A figure clad in golden armor, horned, with eyes of bright red. In one hand, the figure held a sword, it's steel stained with blood. Bright, crimson blood. In the other, a torch. The figure set fire to the field. The wheat burned. The sky became red. The dirt baked. A lamp appeared from the sky. And, in an instant, Edvard was returned. Standing in the field, listening to Winrae. He seemed confused, dazed almost, but soon, he came back to his senses. Swallowing his thoughts, he smiled, returning his hand to his side after Winrae had. Intently, he let her finish her speech, noting her boastful spirit. Nothing to worry about. The Hewman was quite the braggart, too.\n\n\"Good to know. I truly feel blessed to serve in the company of such a valiant warrior.\" Edvard nodded slightly, chuckling quietly before he continued. \"You know, you were a legend to me when I was a squire. The knight I served used to tell me stories of your exploits. Ser Hastings, his name was. Good man. I never really believed them. Stories about a valiant Aasimar with a horned helm and the might of a stag? It was little more than myth to me. But now, standing right in front of her, it's... Truly awesome. I trust you'll put as much faith in my abilities as I place in yours. I've served for almost two decades now. Different allegiances, but service all the same. Hedge Knights are still knights, right? We're meant to dedicate ourselves to the realm, not just a kingdom. Stand up for what's right and all.\" Edvard chuckled once again, turning on his heel as the boy in the field whistled sharply, announcing the target's successful placement.\n\n\"Forgive me, Ser. This'll only take a moment.\" Edvard nodded back to Winrae before rushing over to the longbow, flipping one of the arrows onto his finger as he raised the bow up to his chest. Once more, he stood in silence, slowly calming his breaths as he carefully calculated his aim. The target sat somewhere around three hundred and fifty meters away now. Still well within Edvard's range. With another wave of his hand, the boy once again took cover, allow Edvard to take the shot. Silently, he drew the arrow back, taking great pride in the feeling of the arrow sliding against the shaft of the bow. He breathed sharply, and with one final exhale, let the arrow fly. Once more, it flew true, landing only a few inches away from the bullseye. With a smile, Edvard flashed a thumbs-up to the boy once again, before resting the boy against the wall and turning to Winrae.\n\n\"Deepest apologies, ma'am. The squire worked hard to bring the target out. The least I can do is take a shot.\"" }, { "author": "Winrae Kaliyah, Kamara's Chosen", "message": "\"I am a legend to most, Ser Edvard.\" Winrae spoke plainly, shrugging her shoulders a bit. \"Most would clamber over one another to watch my train as you just did. I usually train with other aasimar, as they can somewhat keep up with me.\" The mention of a man called Ser Hastings did cause the paladin's eyes to widen ever so slightly. At the very least Edvard was trained by a notable man, a man of great honor. Edvard's slight gushing over Winrae did cause an ever so slight smile to creep up on her lips before she raised a hand. Edvard was definitely playing on her weakness, being talked about as though she were the most powerful being around. She Was The most powerful being around. \"I admire your belief, Edvard. A knight's job is an honorable and dignified one, knowing knights like you have looked up to individuals such as myself and grew to walk in our steads is a relief.\"\n\n\"Many knights nowadays sign on for nothing more than a roof over their head. I'm glad you are not such a man.\" Winrae was full of herself in and out. Movement was caught in the paladin's peripheral vision before she turned and watched a squire set up a target. Raising an eyebrow, Winrae stood silent for a moment as Edvard took up a bow and arrow. When his eyes diverted away from hers, Winrae rolled her own slightly. A knight utilizing a bow? Really? Ser Hastings trained this man to be a knight, not an archer. Nevertheless, Winrae stood by, silently watching with little interest. Eyeing the squire as he his, the paladin watched the arrow fly and hit close to its mark with little to no reaction. A quiet scoff left Winrae's mouth before she spoke yet again, a hint of mockery in her tone. \"Quite the shot, though not many knights I know prefer a bow over a sword or ax.\"\n\nNoticing his 'thumbs-up' towards the squire, Winrae offered a meak smile. Her eyes then returned to Edvard, shaking her head at her apologies. \"No need to apologize, this Is The training grounds after all. Train away, Ser.\"" }, { "author": "Ser Edvard Eldebrand", "message": "Turning back to watch the squire, Ed nodded slightly, chuckling softly. \"I don't prefer it, but it's a useful tool to have in your arsenal.\"\n\nRaising his hand to the sky, he waved to the boy, silently instructing him to bring the target back. He was done. The young boy smiled widely and ran to the target, beginning to wheel it back. As Edvard fiddled with his coin pouch to produce a couple pieces of gold, Winrae would see the young boy slowly make his way back towards the training grounds, his appearance becoming clearer and clearer as he approached. It started with his horns, of course. Then, his bleeding blue skin. Finally, his perfectly white eyes, sitting as restless ivory pearls in his skull. Cheerfully, yet silently, the boy stashed the target away and ran up to Edvard, extending his hand with a chuckle. Edvard smiled widely, dropping the two coins into his palm. He nodded back towards the stables behind him and the boy dashed off. A stable-boy, not a squire it seemed. Edvard saw something in the boy. Something that could be molded into the shape of a valiant warrior. Determination, attitude, and willingness. It was the least he could do. He planned on laying down his life in the name of his ideals somewhat soon. Might as well train the next generation to be the knights he always believed they should be, right?\n\nTurning back to Winrae, Edvard kept his wide grin, speaking back to the woman with a hint of dismay. \"Death doesn't quite care whether someone is taken by a sword or an arrow. Of course, I'm more skilled with my sword, but often times a different approach must be taken to prevent the loss of innocent lives. Most of our armies are made up of poorly trained peasants with polearms. Their lives are important to me, and I intend on doing whatever I can to make sure they aren't killed in some meaningless charge for glory. Respect isn't something I seek. I just want to do my job. Ser.\" Edvard nodded softly, watching the Paladin intently.\n\nTreading back on her previous comments, Edvard chuckled once again, shaking his head in disagreement. \"I hope you don't take it as a slight, but I don't intend on treading the path you have. My only intent is on following the code laid out for me by Ser Hastings. To be the humble, modest knight who stands up to injustice, no matter the situation. I don't see golden armor or fame in my future. Only a life I can look back on and be proud of.\"" }, { "author": "Winrae Kaliyah, Kamara's Chosen", "message": "Winrae remained silent as Edvard spoke of tools and gestured for the squire and child to come near. The more the child grew closer however the more the dark ache in Winrae's heart grew. It was a tiefling. Of Course The boy was a tiefling. The expression on the paladin's face did not change however, though many knights who have come to know Winrae know well enough of her bigotry toward the demon race. It was in her nature, it was how she was raised. Essme was a failure on that end as well, especially given her most recent companion was and still is a tiefling man. Winrae's fists began to strain and tighten within the gauntlets around her hands, though each was hidden as she still stood with her arms across her chest. The closer the tiefling grew, the more Winrae's teeth began to subtly grind against one another. Now the paladin simply had to watch as a fellow knight handed off coins to a needy little demon child.\n\nRelaxing as Edvard turned back to her, Winrae hid her feelings well. There was no sign of dismay or hatred plastered across the angel's face. Nothing, in fact. No emotion, no expressions. She just stood there, bored of their conversation entirely. \"Ah yes, the times when a bow and arrow are needed makes rangers very valuable. Nevertheless-\" Winrae turned, pointing to the target and closing one eye as she held her finger out toward it. \"I could outfly any arrow you shoot, Ser.\" Shrugging and returning her arm into a fold, Winrae let out a light chuckle, dismissing Edvard show of his skill completely with her words. \"Why should I waste time when I could cut down my target before you even have a chance to draw back an arrow in your bow's string?\" Pulling her legendary greatsword from her back, she slammed the point into the dirt and leaned on the hilt idly, the conversation still not as exciting as she'd hoped it'd be.\n.\n\n\"All lives are important, Edvard. No one ever said they weren't, be it a-\" A look of slight disgust appeared on the aasimar's face as she eyed the tiefling child before, her words droning out slightly, \"Less fortunate Individual, or a knight such as I. What matters to me is that my duty is handled swiftly. Glory is just a perk that comes with the job.\" Allowing Edvard to continue, Winrae's expression dulled once more. So, she stood corrected by a man less than her? \"Ser Hastings was a man of respect. I-.. Commend You for following in his honorable stead. Not everyone can handle glory as I or his royal highness has.\" A slight jab back, but Winrae was not one to take any slight lying down." } ]	605	5,841

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